#FUCKING AUDIBLE SNIFF

[fluffypotatey]

It messes me up so bad macaque can just smell wukong from far away. And it wasn't a throw away line cause he literally sniffs right before they meet the real wukong

WAIT… WAIT!!!!

YOU MOTHERFUCKER COME BACK HERE

i have not struggled to hold in a scream so hard in my life because hello???? macky did what now!?? CANONICALLY????

HOLD UP

ITS FUCKING AUDIBLE!!!! ANON I DID BELIEVE IT WAS A THROWAWAY LINE WHAT THE FUCK

HELP ME

[thewritingrowlet]

The Determined Wife, ft. Red Velvet Irene

tags: creampie, anal, breeding, daddy kink

word count: 6k+

author's note: well, here's the continuation of The Loving Wife—I hope you like this one

p.s. I want to write about Isa or Seeun next; I hope I have ideas for that.

“Hngh? Huh?”, you mumble as your brain kick-starts your body on a brand-new day. As the rest of your consciousness returns to you, you feel weight on the left side of your body. “Who?”, you take a sniff, “oh, Irene”. After getting a grip on the time and day, you close your eyes to get back to sleep. That is, until you feel Irene poking your cheek. “Good morning, my love”, you greet her with closed eyes. “Good morning, honey”, Irene yawns audibly, “do you have work today?”. You tighten your arms around her, “let’s not start our day like that”. “How do you want to start, then?”, she asks, letting out another yawn after, “do you want to breed me first thing in the morning?”. “God, not this breeding thing again”, you think to yourself, “love, are you that serious about getting pregnant?”. You feel Irene rubbing her face against your chest, “I want to have your child—our child”.

You get on top of your wife and hover closely above her face while your hands are planted on either side of her face, “how badly do you want it?”. In the dark, you see Irene smile warmly, “I want it so fucking bad; I want to make you happy”. You clap your hands twice to turn on the lights—God bless modern technology. “Love, you know I’m happy with what we have. I don’t want to burden you with a child—not to mention that you also have a career to pursue”, you try to reason with her. Irene furrows her eyebrows in anger, dissatisfied by your words, “if you use my career against me one more time, I’m leaving you”. You pull her into a sitting position in front of you, “honey, please; I didn’t mean it like that. Surely you know what I’m getting at”. Irene frees her wrists from your grip and crosses her arms, her gaze straying away from yours, “I don’t want to talk to you today. You can go to work if you want to”.

Irene’s behavior leaves you no choice but to give her some space and hope that time will help her come to reason. “I love you, honey”, you dare say, and a part of you expects a slap on the cheek. Seeing that you’re not getting a response from Irene, you get off the bed and get ready for the day ahead. Since you don’t have eyes on your nape, you can’t see that Irene sheds a tear as she feels rejected by you, the person she can’t live without—the love of her life.

-

“Good morning, boss!”, Miss Park greets you excitedly as soon as you enter the company building. “Hi, hello. Good morning”, you return her greeting and shake her hand. “You look like you have a lot of things going on right now”, she comments. You let out a heavy sigh, “I do, actually; had a little disagreement with my wife, and she said she wouldn’t talk to me for the rest of the day”. “Ah, sorry about that, boss”, Miss Park, not expecting such answer, clears her throat to cope with the awkwardness, “anyway, you don’t have much today, sir; just proposals and other paperwork to read and sign”. “Thank you, Miss Park”, you part ways with her in front of the elevator that leads to your office.

You start your routine of hanging your suit jacket on the headrest of your chair and waking up your computer from its slumber. “That’s a lot of emails—how are there 22, man?”, you eye the list of unread emails on your screen, and you see that some of them are paid leave applications that are pending your approval.

When you started your company, you made a commitment to approve such applications without questions and encourage department heads under your command to follow suit. It’s not like it’s a complicated process, anyway; one just needs to fill out a form they can get from HR, ask their manager and head of department to sign it, and then wait for your approval. Such simple steps are set in place to make sure that employees can take a leave in a timely manner—no need to be kneeling and begging for this. Combined with the rules the company has set, you’ve seen reports from employees saying that they’re satisfied with your system.

“Oh, his child is hospitalized; I should visit them later”, you comment as you see an application from a certain Mr. Lee Minhyung from the marketing department. “That’s one down; a few more to go”. You click on the arrow to go to the next email, one from Miss Kim Minjeong, “wait, that’s Mr. Lee’s wife, no?”. Of course you remember; HR notified you by letter and asked you to fire one of them when they learned that they were a married couple.

You read the content of the email, and obviously, she’s also applying for a paid leave; it’s their child who is hospitalized. “Yeah, easy”, you apply your digital signature on the letter as a sign of approval, just like you did with her husband’s. As you’re moving your cursor to go to the next, you wonder what it’s like to have a child, and importantly, what it’s like to be in a crisis involving your child. “I wonder if Irene is ready for such situations”, you sigh, “why are you so determined to have a child, my love?”.

-

“Miss Park, tell Mr. Oh to put the parcel in the car; I’m coming down in a bit”, you say to your secretary over the phone. After getting an answer from her, you put on your jacket and walk out of your office, towards the elevator.

You see a handful of heads of departments on your way down, as they take the same elevator you are. “Any news, ladies and gentlemen?”, you ask. “My son is getting married next week, director—you’re invited to the wedding, by the way”, Mr. Shim, head of IT, shares the good news with you. You shake his hand firmly, “congratulations, Mr. Shim. Send me the details and I’ll be there”.

The rest of your conversations with them are cut short when the elevator stops and opens on the bottom floor, indicating your time to leave. “I’m going to visit someone’s child at the hospital; I’ll see you later”, you exchange goodbyes with the crowd and turn around towards Mr. Oh and Miss Park who are already waiting for you next to your car.

“Is everything in there?”, you ask Miss Park. “Yes, sir. Would you like to be driven for?”, she asks. You shake your head, “no, but I want you to come with me; I’ll need help carrying these stuff—c’mon, let’s go”. You get in your car with Miss Park and drive to the hospital, where the child is hospitalized.

“Excuse me, director”, Miss Park starts a conversation as the two of you wait at the red light, “I know this is presumptuous of me, but can I ask what’s happening between you and your wife?”. “She wants to have a child, Miss Park—that’s all you need to know”, you explain briefly, “why?”. Miss Park pulls out a small envelope from her jacket, “your wife stopped by earlier and gave me this”. You take the envelope from her hands and put it in your pocket, “thanks, I’ll see what this is about later”.

-

You walk with Miss Park towards the child’s room with your hands full of stuff. You’re carrying a basket of fruits in one hand and a box of pudding in the other, while Miss Park is carrying some food for the parents. “Knock on the door, Miss Park. My hands are full”, you gesture to her with your head. Miss Park knocks three times, and not long after, the door swings open. “Director! Miss Park!”, Mr. Lee exclaims, “wha-what are you doing here?”. “Hi there”, you smile, “oh, y’know, just wanted to see your son; maybe I can lift his spirits or something”.

Mr. Lee welcomes you in, and you immediately make eye contact with the boy lying in bed. “Hey, bud. How are you feeling?”, you show him a friendly side of you. He smiles weakly and tells you that he’s feeling better compared to yesterday. “That’s great to hear”, you show him the bag with the pudding in it, “I have some pudding for you, buddy—ask your mom to cut it for you, okay?”. The boy giggles in excitement, and you feel a surge of warmth that you don’t think you’ve felt before.

You grab a chair and sit next to him after handing the stuff to Mr. Lee and his wife. “Hey, buddy”, you gently rub the back of his hand that’s not connected to the IV drip, “what happened to you?”. “I remember feeling weak and blacking out at school, but I don’t remember anything else, sir”, he recalls. “You must’ve been so tired after studying so hard, haven’t you?”, you look over your shoulder and see that Mr. Lee and his wife are smiling at you, seemingly in approval of your actions, “your parents must be proud of you, bud; you look like someone who works hard for school”. The boy beams, and he decides to brag about his grades, “I got a 90 on my last math test, sir!”. You chuckle out loud and pet his head gently, “oi, great job, you! Hey, guess what: I’ll buy you some shoes to wear to school after you leave this place—how does that sound, buddy?”.

You leave the boy’s side after getting a high five from him, and it is now time to speak with his parents. Mr. Lee shakes your hand, “thank you so much, director. About my work—“. You cut Mr. Lee off with a pause gesture, “please, let’s not worry about that right now; I’m not here to talk about your work. Your son is more important than any work, Mr. Lee”. He smiles and bows in gratefulness, “thank you so much, director. I promise I will always work hard”. You pat him on the back while laughing, “you like making me get richer, don’t you, Mr. Lee?”.

When you turn your attention to Miss Kim, she bows in respect. “Thank you for visiting, Mr. Director. It means a lot to us”, she says. It must be true that it only uses two muscles to smile, because you’re not tired of smiling—not even in the slightest. “I’m just trying to help the both of you—ah, can I address the both of you casually? We’re not at the office, are we?”, you say to Miss Kim and her husband. Miss Kim nods, “of course you can, director. Feel free to call us by name”.

You grab the bag of food from the table and hand it to them, “I don’t know if you’ve eaten yet, but if you haven’t, please eat now; I have some sandwich for both of you. Miss Park will keep an eye on your son”. Mr. Kim and his wife say goodbye to their son and tell him that Miss Park will stay with him while they eat, getting a nod in response. “Can we talk while you eat, actually?”, you say to them, and they nod at you, “follow me outside, please”.

You sit on the sofa near the nurses’ station with the couple. “I have some questions if you don’t mind, Minhyung-ah”, you initiate the conversation. “Of course, director. Ask away”, he says. You start by explaining your situation first, “here’s the thing, my wife has been begging me to make her pregnant, and admittedly, I’ve been rejecting her request because she has quite the career and I don’t want her to just throw it away, considering how long it has taken her to build it”. Mr. Lee and Miss Kim look at each other before turning back to you, “I’m guessing you’re curious what it’s like to have a child, especially as a working couple”. “That’s spot-on, Minhyung-ah”, you give him a thumbs-up, “so, can you tell me?”.

“I’ll start first—y’know, as a dad and all that”, Mr. Lee takes a deep breath before sharing his perspective, “personally, director, we were also concerned about our careers at first, but having a child has been the greatest thing in our lives”. Truthfully, you’re surprised to hear such an answer, but before you make any judgment, you ask Miss Kim to share her thoughts first. “I agree with my husband, Mr. Director”, Miss Kim says, “I must say, though, seeing your child get sick hurts so damn bad—this isn’t the first time Daeyoung-ie has been hospitalized, and seeing him lie in bed like that hurts so, so much”. You want to open your mouth, but Miss Kim isn’t done talking just yet. “I can’t explain it but love for your child isn’t similar to love for your spouse, director—something about being willing to do anything for your child isn’t comparable to anything else”, she piles on.

You stay silent as you try to process everything you just heard. “That’s quite the answer, actually”, you rub your chin, “I’ll talk with my wife about it, I guess”. Mr. Lee glances at his wife quickly before turning back to you, “I don’t know about you, director, but the process of making a child is very, uh, fun”. You chuckle out loud, and you see that Miss Kim is smacking her husband while blushing. “I’m sure it is, Minhyung-ah—I mean, look at you: clearly you had fun”, you shake your head in amusement, “alright, Miss Park and I will be leaving after this. I’ll keep my promise and buy your son some new shoes after he’s out of this place, but you’ll need to remind me”.

-

Irene’s Genesis is parked at its usual spot in front of your house, and you feel excited to talk with her about getting her pregnant. You get out of the car after parking it next to hers and run straight to the house. “I’m ho—what the fuck!?”, you see Irene lying on the carpet in front of the TV with nothing but bra and panties on. “Irene? Love?”, you slap her cheeks gently but rapidly to get her to open her eyes, “honey, wake up, please”. You look around the house for signs of what has happened, and you see a tall bottle of whiskey that is almost empty sitting on the table in front of the sofa—no shot glass means that she must’ve drunk it straight from the bottle.

“I… hate you…”, Irene says weakly, her eyelids too heavy to open, “s-stay away f-from me”. Not the best thing you could hear right now, but you’re glad that she’s okay, just drunk—verydrunk. “Let’s move you to the bedroom, okay?”, you carry her bridal style—it reminds you of your first day of being married, actually—and walk towards the bedroom. “P-put me down, y-you bastard”, Irene wiggles around, attempting to free herself from your arms, “I-I’m calling the police if-if you don’t put me down”. Irene has never been this drunk before, and honestly, you don’t know how to take care of her in this state—doesn’t mean you won’t try, though.

You place her on the floor momentarily while you grab a blanket and spread it on the bed. You pick up your wife from the floor and put her in the middle of the blanket and wrap her body with it, just in case she loses control of her actions and starts throwing punches or kicks. “W-what are you doing to me, you asshole—let me go!”, Irene tries to free herself from the blanket burrito, but since she’s very drunk, she’s not strong enough to do anything other than to run her mouth. “Love, it’s me”, you softly say to her, “you’re very drunk, aren’t you, baby?”. “Heheheheh”, Irene laughs, seemingly mocking you, “me? drunk? I’m on cloud nine right now, baby—had to-to take care of myself since my husband wouldn’t”.

Her words sound particularly painful to you right now. You went from feeling excited about talking to her about having a child, to feeling sad about the sight in front of you, and you feel powerless to do anything but let tears run down your cheeks. “Alcohol brings out the best of us, doesn’t it, love?”, you wipe your tears, hoping that doing so will help you calm down faster, “I guess this is how we wrap things up today”.

-

In your peaceful sleep, you’re shown glimpses of what having a child would be like. First, you’re shown a projection of Irene with a big belly; “we have a child, love! I’m so happy to have a child!”, she says. You really want to keep watching this clip, but your brain wants to move on to the next, which is one where Irene is doing tiny jumps while holding your baby, who is wrapped in a small blanket; “who is my good boy, hm? Who is my lovely, handsome boy?”. Like before, your brain quickly moves on to the next part of your dreams. You’re shown images in quick succession of your child taking his first steps, going to school for his first day, and finally, the moment where he makes a vow to never stop loving his wife, and to continue to be with her until death do them part—the speed makes it almost feels like someone is holding down the right arrow key during a PowerPoint presentation.

As soon as the presentation finishes, you’re stirred awake by your brain, as if telling you to start working on making it into reality. Your ability to vividly remember dreams isn’t always helpful because you can indeed remember everything, no matter how scary or joyful it is. “I had a dream, baby”, you say in a soft voice to Irene, who is still wrapped in a blanket, “I saw what it’d be like if we had a child—it was such a beautiful dream, my love”. You rub her exposed cheeks gently as you narrate the rest of your dream to your wife.

“Ah, I’m sorry for disturbing your sleep, love. I’ll go back to sleep now—good morning, by the way”, you say to her as you close your eyes and get ready to get back to sleep. “Wait!”, Irene exclaims in a tiny voice, taking you by surprise, “wait, don’t go back to sleep yet”. You lift your head off your pillow and take a good look at your wife. “Are you alright, love?”, you ask her, trying to gauge her mood. With how limited her mobility is in the burrito, Irene can only shake her head. “N-no, I’m not”, she starts tearing up, “p-please hold me in your arms”.

You unwrap the blanket and hold Irene in a tight embrace. “I’m sorry about the blanket, love. I was just concerned about you punching or kicking me while being drunk”, you spray pecks on her head as a gesture of apology. “I’m sorry—fuck, I’m so sorry”, Irene apologizes as tears start freely flowing out of her eyes, “I-I didn’t have anyone to talk to, s-so I resorted to drinking—please forgive me, my love”. Since Irene is in the mood for apologies, you decide to follow it up with one of yours; “I got your letter yesterday, love. I understand what you were saying, and I’m sorry for not calling you or saying anything back”. Irene shakes her head, “n-no, it-it’s okay, I understand. I-I was just so fucking desperate to do something, s-so I decided to write you a letter”.

As soon as Irene stops crying, you move on to the next subject, which is your little trip to the hospital to visit your employee’s son. “Love, I visited someone’s son at the hospital yesterday”, you say to her, “he fainted at school and was taken to the hospital after that”. “Oh, poor boy”, Irene comments, showing empathy, “so, what then?”. You tell her that you and Miss Park brought some stuff for the boy and his parents; “I also promised him that I’d buy him some new shoes to wear to school”. Irene pecks your cheek as a sign of approval of your actions, “good thinking, my love”.

“Not just that, though”, you pile on, “I also asked the parents what it was like to see their son lie in bed sick like that”. “Yeah? What did they say?”, she asks. You take a deep breath first, “they said that it’s such a painful sight—this wasn’t the first time the boy had been hospitalized, by the way”. Irene can sense that something else is coming from you, so she urges you to keep going. “I just kept thinking about whether you’d be ready for such thing, should it happen to us and our child”.

Irene holds your hands tightly and rubs the back of them gently. “I’ll need you to be with me every step of the way. If I have you next to me, I’ll face anything head on”, she says. You put on an assuring smile, “of course I’ll be there with you, love. It’s not like I have anywhere else to go, is it?”.

Irene gathers her strength and mounts your body, “does that mean you’ll be breeding me? That’s what you’re getting at, isn’t it?”. You run your thumb across her lips, “yes, love, but I want you to do something first”. “What? What is it? Tell me”, Irene starts getting excited at the prospect of getting pregnant. “We’ll be having a lot of sex in the next few days, so I want you to grab a pen and paper and write down your consent so that I won’t have to keep asking”, you say to her. Irene jumps off the bed and runs—or stumbles, rather—out of the bedroom to do what you ask, and while you wait for her, you decide to get ready for sex; you take off your clothes but leave the boxers on for Irene to do the honors and lie down on the bed.

“Here! Here!”, Irene enters the bedroom running and shows you a small piece of paper. You grab the letter from her hands, “let’s see what you wrote, hey?”.

“My name is Bae ‘Irene’ Joohyun, and I am the wife of Director Kang Junho.

I hereby declare that I consent to everything that my beloved husband will be doing to me, as we are trying to have a child of our own. If he wishes to have sex, then I shall comply without asking questions, for I am his beloved wife.

His for eternity,

Irene”

“I know you’re still hungover, but I’ll accept this anyway”, you chuckle as you climb onto the bed, “are we ready?”. Irene joins you in bed and kneels next to you, looking down at herself. “Lo-love”, she says with a tiny voice, “I-I know your dream was about a son, b-but you—erm—you don’t mind having a daughter, do you?”. You take her hands in yours, “of course not, love. Having a child is already such a blessing—it matters little if it’s a boy or a girl”. Irene looks at you with a smile, “that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you”. “Nah-nah-nah”, you deflect, “you just kept saying breed me over and over again”. Irene moves to sit on your lap and pecks you on the lips, “I mean, that’s how a woman gets pregnant”.

“My love, listen to me, please”, you inhale deeply, “I promise you this will be the last time I ask this: what about your career?”. Irene rubs your cheek gently, “love, I don’t care about my career; motherhood will be my greatest achievement—ask me one hundred more times, and I’ll give you the same answer each time”. You move to sit with Irene in your lap. “I will be there with you, love; I’ll be the best father I can be for our children”. “Children?”, Irene bursts out in laughter, “goodness me—now you want to have more than one”.

That’s enough yapping and laughing—it’s now time to fill your wife with baby batter. You place your palms on either side of Irene’s hips and lock eyes with her, confusing her. “Why are you looking at me like that?”, she asks. You smirk, “just thinking about what position I want to fuck you in”. She blushes in response, “w-whatever it is, m-make sure you cum inside”.

You scoot backwards until your back can lean against the headboard. “You want me to ride you, honey?”, she asks, “but what if the cum drips out?”. You shrug, “I’ll just fill you up again”. “Yeah, we can do that”, Irene unlatches her bra and hands it to you, “hold on to this, honey”. Let’s be real, you have better things to hold on to, such as her ass and tits—eh, actually, let’s entertain her for now.

Irene fondles her tits, weighing them with her hands, “do you think they’ll grow bigger, honey?”. You shake your head, clueless, “I don’t know how it works, love. We’ll have to see”. She then holds your hands and places them on her tits, “touch me, please”. “Gladly, baby”, you lick her nipple to tease her.

Irene is great at reacting to stimulations; you’re barely doing anything with her tits, and she’s already squirming around. “Mo-more”, Irene yelps, “oh, please—more”. “Do you think you can give me some breast milk right now?”, you tease her as you squeeze her tits, as if trying to get breast milk out of them. “Prob-probably not”, Irene throws her head back, “I-I don’t think it works like that”. “Ah, unfortunate”, you pinch her nipples, “would love to taste some right now”.  It is when you latch your mouth on her boob that Irene starts moaning loudly.  “Oh, yes, big baby”, Irene palms the back of your head, “big baby can make small babies”. You want to laugh, but you haven’t had enough of your wife’s tits just yet.

Irene’s impatience is showing, as she picks up the pace of her humps. “Please fuck me already”, she begs, “don’t you want to fuck me? Don’t you want to fill me?”. You reach down towards your crotch and hers, “you’re so wet, aren’t you, love?”. “And-and you’re so hard”, she replies. “You know why I’m hard, baby?”, you ask, teasing her one last time. “Y-you—oh, God—you’re hard because you want to fuck me”. You praise her by pinching her nipples, “good answer, baby—now let’s start, hm?”.

You lean back against the headrest and tell Irene that she’s free to do whatever she wants with you. You see that Irene wants to free your cock from your boxers, so you help her out and lift your butt off the bed momentarily. “Who needs a career when you can just spend your days worshipping a cock like this?”, Irene utters, her eyes locked on your erection, “skip work this week, please. It’s not like they can fire you”. True, no one can fire you, but there’s something odd about not going to work, especially as the big boss. “I’ll see what I can do, baby”, you promise her. You keep an eye on Irene, “do you want to suck me off first, baby?”. Your words snap Irene out of her little trance, stopping her from mindlessly stroking your cock; “n-no, let’s skip past that”.

Irene takes off her panties and guides your cock towards her entrance. “I want you so bad, baby”, you egg her on. It is an exaggeration, yeah, but it always works—look, Irene is going down on your cock while moaning! “Oppa”, she calls you by an endearment from way back when, “do you remember our first time?”. You start flipping the pages of your memory to recollect and find the memory with little trouble. “How can I not, love?”, you smile, “you’re my first and only”. Irene lets out a soft yelp when she finally manages to fit your whole shaft inside. “Y-you let me be on top be-because you wanted me to get used to you”, Irene closes her eyes and starts rolling her hips back and forth, “you were splitting me in half, oppa”. Irene’s tight-but-wet grip makes you moan, “it was really hard for me to not just bust right away right there, love”. “Yeah?”, Irene teases with a smirk, “let’s see how long you can hold it in now”.

 “Fuck, baby, you’re so tight”, you grit your teeth, “I love it—I love you”. Irene likes dirty talk, but words of love and affirmation work better on her, proven by how she’s picking up the pace of her bounces. “Yes! Fuck, yes!”, she yells, “I’m perfect for you, daddy!”. You pull her closer to your face so that you can kiss her and show her how much you love her. “Come on, baby. You can do this—fuck, you’re so good to me”, you whisper to her. She plants her forehead on your shoulder and begs for help; “please, please fuck me like you usually do, daddy”. You comply to her request by thrusting up and meeting her in the middle, timing it perfectly to make sure that you can reach her deepest spots.

Irene’s moans are one of the many things you will never get tired of in your marriage. The perfect mix of low- and high-pitched moans (and the occasional yelps and screams, too) makes you feel really good about yourself every single time—the daddy kink is simply the perfect icing on the cake. You don’t really pay attention to yourself, so you don’t know what you look like or what sounds you make during sex, but considering that Irene never complains about it, she probably finds you very attractive during sex—nothing that kills the mood or the like.

“You’re squeezing me, baby”, your focus is turned back to Irene, “you want to cum?”. Irene nods weakly, “please let me cum, daddy”. You never said anything about not letting her cum, but since she’s asking very nicely, she’s more than welcome to cum any time—preferably soon, though; you’re almost on the edge yourself. “Cum for me, baby”, you egg her on, “if you cum now, I’ll breed you”.

Timing couldn’t be any more perfect, as Irene announces that she’s about to cum after a few more bounces. She lets out a very loud scream, but it’s more than fine; it’s not like there’s anyone else in this house other than the two of you—even if the breeding is successful and she’s pregnant, the fruit of the labor won’t be here for another 9 months, so until then, Irene is free to be as loud as she wants.

Irene falls limp to the side, feeling weak from her orgasm, and you use this window to take a breather and get yourself together. “One-one second, please”, Irene squirms around as she basks in the high of her orgasm. “You can take as much time as you want, baby”, you run your hand back and forth on her back to soothe her, “I bet you can’t feel your legs right now”. She chuckles with heavy breaths, “that-that’s your fault, daddy”. You tell her that she can rest while you leave to get some water for her.

When you return, however, you see that Irene’s eyes are closed, and when you lean closer to her, you hear subtle snores coming out of her mouth. You set the glasses of water on the bedside table and pick up the letter to re-read what she’s written. “I consent to everything”, it says, and you’re tempted to push her further. “Let’s see if you’re ready for anal”, you mutter under your breath.

She’s lying flat on her stomach, which allows you access to her rear without having to move her. You make sure that your cock isn’t too dry by slathering spit on the whole thing before you try to pierce her ass. You plant your knees on either side of her closed thighs and spread her cheeks gently to find your target. Even though she has said that she consents to everything, you don’t want to do anything sexual to her while she’s asleep. “Irene, baby”, you pat her cheeks gently to wake her up, “we’re not done yet”. Irene stirs awake and turns her head to look at you, “sorry, daddy; I fell asleep”. You peck the back of her head and tell her that it’s okay. “I’m going again, okay?”.

“Wait, wait—that-that’s not where you breed me, daddy”, Irene grunts in pain when she feels you in her ass. “Consider this your punishment for falling asleep”, you grit your teeth, “fuck, you’re so tight here, too”. “B-but you said it’s okay—AH, FUCK, DADDY!”, Irene lets out a very loud scream when your shaft reaches the deepest point of her ass. “Say your safe word, then”, you challenge her, and Irene shakes her head in response. “N-no, I love getting fucked in the ass”, she grunts, “just don’t cum in my ass, please”. “Oh, yeah, that’s right; we’re trying to get her pregnant”, you think to yourself. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll go back to your pussy after this”.

You lean forward a bit and place your hands on the bed to make sure you’re steady. “Be good, baby”, you whisper to her while you prepare your hips to fuck her ass hard. “Pl-please, just fuck me already”, Irene yelps, “fuck my ass, daddy”. That’s a green light as bright as any, so you start doing what you’re in this position for: to fuck her ass.

Irene’s screams of pain start getting replaced with moans of pleasure, as she gets more comfortable with taking you in the ass. “You’re so hard and big, daddy”, she praises you between moans, “you’re so good at fucking me”. Her praise serves as fuel to your fire of lust, and with a grunt, you pick up the pace of your thrusts. Your wife is reduced to just moans, unable to do anything else but lie flat on the bed while your shaft is stretching the muscles of her rear.

You feel that you’re almost there, so you pull out of her ass and roll her onto her back. “I want to see you, baby”, you say to her before plunging back into her pussy. She feebly stretches out her arms, asking you to hold her in yours. You lean forward and wrap your arms around her body, while your lips crash into hers. “We’re going to have a child, baby”, you say in a soft voice.

-

“Mr. Kang, your wife is about to give birth. Would you like to be present?”, a nurse asks you. “Yes, please”, you get up from the bench, “please show me the way”. The nurse starts walking towards the room where your wife is, and you feel cold sweat running down your forehead. As you follow the nurse, you pray to the higher beings that your wife and daughter will make it out of this in perfect health.

“She’s here, sir”, the nurse opens a door and leads you inside. “Oh my God”, you exclaim; Irene is pinching her thighs until they’re bruised while the rest of her body is drenched in sweat. “My love”, you move to her side and hold her hand to stop her from pinching her thighs, “my God, how can I help you, baby?”.

More and more nurses enter the room, and all you can do is trust them to do what they do best, which is to help during delivery. You try to focus on your wife, but her screams and the nurses’ voices make it very hard for you to do so. One particular scream from Irene wrenches your heart, making you shed a tear. “God, help her, please”, you chant in your head over and over again, praying in your earnest for her and your daughter’s safety.

-

You slowly open your eyes, and you try to make out where you are right now. You gather your strength and stand up from your seat to check up on Irene. “Wait, that’s—“, you rub your eyes to make clear of the sight in front of you. “This is our daughter, honey”, Irene says tearily, “we have a daughter”. “Oh my God, what a blessing”, you let out a sigh of relief, “what happened to me, though? How did I get here?”. Irene places a hand on your cheeks and rubs it softly, “a nurse said that you passed out, so they had to carry you here”. You feel bad for them for having to carry you as a dead weight and you promise that you’ll compensate them later.

“Love, we have a daughter”, Irene repeats as she breaks down in tears, “we have a daughter—can you believe that?”. You place a hand on Irene’s head to soothe her, while you use your other hand to reach for your little daughter. “Hi, baby”, you say gently, “welcome to the world, little one”. The sight makes you shed tears of your own—who knew it would turn out like this, because you certainly didn’t. “What’s her name, honey?”, Irene asks. “Yeseo”, you wipe the tears off your cheeks and peck your daughter over the blanket that’s covering her (because you don’t want to compromise her hygiene or something like that), “your name is Yeseo, my dear—my sweet, sweet daughter”.

-

“Welcome home!”, you excitedly open the doors of your house and lead your wife and daughter, who is peacefully sleeping in her arms, inside. Once they’re in, you close the doors behind you and lead them to sit on the sofa. “I love you so much, baby”, you say to Irene. “I love you so much more, honey”, she replies, “and I love you so much, Yeseo-yah”. You look at your daughter lovingly, and you really want to give her a peck. “Can I peck her, love?”, you ask your wife, earning a laugh from her. “Of course you can; you’re her father”.

Irene hands Yeseo over to you, and you make sure that your arms are perfectly steady. “Yeseo-yah, I love you so much”, you say in the gentlest voice you can come up with, “I will protect you and your mother with my life”. Obviously, she can’t say anything back to you, but you’d like to think that she can hear you, and what’s better for Yeseo to hear first thing than words of love from her parents?

“Love, I want to celebrate”, you say to your wife, your gaze still locked on your baby. “Yeah? How?”, Irene asks, “you want to make more babies?”. “Seriously?”, you look at her with an I-can’t-believe-you-just-said-that face, “no, love; I don’t want to make another one just yet”. Irene laughs out loud, “oh, you know, I was just making sure—so how do you want to celebrate?”. You gently run a finger on Yeseo’s cheek, “I want to make her birthday a holiday at the company, and I want to raise everyone’s salary by 8%”. Your wife moves to sit closer to you and wraps an arm around your back, “yeah, that sounds like a good celebration”.

[captainmalewriter]

Stolen Jockstrap

Adam laid in bed with his nose firmly pressed against a white jockstrap he had stolen from the men’s locker room at the gym. The smell of sweat still lingered in the unwashed cloth. Adam’s audible sniffs filled the bedroom as he indulged in the scent. His hands pawed at his growing member in his sweatpants as he pushed the used jockstrap against his face. Having been raised to never touch what didn’t belong to him, Adam was extremely hesitant to steal the jockstrap from the locker room. But as Adam grew harder and more aroused with every sniff, he was very glad he snatched it. 

“God this smells sooo fucking good!” Adam moaned. While Adam was initially content with just sniffing the used jockstrap and rubbing one out, he got the sudden idea to put it on. Actually wearing the jockstrap never crossed Adam’s mind. While he was originally against the idea, Adam felt an inexplicable urge to put it on as he massaged his cock through his sweats. 

“I’ll just wear it for a little bit…” Adam whispered to himself as he slowly stripped down. His erect dick sprang up as he took off his pants and underwear. He then lifted his leg up and through the hole of the jockstrap. He did the same with the other leg, then pulled the strap up until the cloth cup rested on his groin.

“Damn… This feels so good!” The jockstrap felt cool against Adam’s smooth skin. Being as scrawny as he was, the jockstrap was unfortunately too big for him. It hung loosely over his junk, clearly a size or two too big for him. Wearing a stolen jockstrap was hot in theory, but an oversized strap only killed Adam’s boner once he tried it on. Plus, he was never going to be able to smell the original owner’s cock musk if he was wearing it. 

“Alright, that’s enough of that. Time to continue the real fun.” 

Adam’s hands reached for the elastic waistband sitting on his waist, ready to take it off. However, Adam found he couldn’t pull it down no matter how hard he tried. It was like the jockstrap itself was refusing to come off!

“Huh!? What’s going on? Get off me!!” Aw c’mon Adam, you can’t take me off now! It’s like you said, the real fun’s just getting started!

Adam jolted. He recognized that voice. It was the voice of the guy who owned the white jockstrap. Adam frantically looked around the room but there was no sign of him anywhere. He was completely alone in the room. Then, once a disturbing realization hit him, Adam peered down at the jockstrap. Without Adam’s command, his dick twitched underneath the fabric when he looked at it.

“No… Don’t tell me you’re in the jockstrap… You can’t be serious!!”

That’s right fucker! You stole my clothes, so I’m stealing your body! I think that’s only fair, right?

Adam felt a sudden sharp pain on the tip of his dick. It felt like something was trying to enter the slit of his dick. It was overwhelming. He tried curling up to protect himself. 

Uh uh uh! I don’t think so! Open up those legs for Daddy!!

Without his command, Adam’s legs swung back open. He laid with his arms and legs fully spread like a starfish. Once he was wide open, he felt the owner’s essence slide down the length of his erect member, causing his cock and balls to throb and swell as they grew to accommodate an unexpected guest. 

Alright, I’m in! Get ready Adam!! If you wanna wear my clothes, then you gotta look the part too! Here we goooo!!

Adam felt an otherworldly presence growing inside his body. It filled his fingers, his toes, even his face! Every inch of Adam’s body grew warmer as hair began growing all over his once smooth, thin body. His torso inflated with muscle mass until he had two heavy pecs covered in hair resting on his chest with abs to match too. Adam groaned in pain as his shoulders stretched outwards. He was panting like a dog as his shoulder muscles shifted and contracted until he had the rugged shoulder span of a college linebacker. 

His legs were no exception to the transformation either. Adam’s thighs became drenched in sweat as the spirit possessing him forced the muscles to grow rapidly. His flat ass filled in with mass until he had the nice, firm bubble butt of a man who never skipped leg day. The elastic waistband of the jockstrap strained to keep up with Adam’s transformation. It used to fit him too big, but now it fit justtt right as Adam’s legs became well-defined and toned with muscle. 

All the while Adam’s cock throbbed and pulsed against the jockstrap as blood rushed throughout Adam’s body. His 5 inch pecker grew and swelled under the spirit’s command, making his five incher a hefty 7.5 rod with girth and hair to boot. The warm, stretching sensations Adam was experiencing in his body was a pleasure unlike any he’s ever had. It left him practically begging for release from all the building tension in his body. Once his body transformation was finished, loads of warm spunk came flowing out of his dick and into the jockstrap.

“Ahhhhhh FUCK yeahhhh!!!” Adam, now under the control of the jockstrap’s original owner, let out a deep, bellowing moan that shook the walls of his bedroom. His new, hung cock was twitching as it finished pumping out loads. The new, musclebound Adam smirked as he looked down at his newly possessed body. 

“You like what you see, Adam?” the owner teased. He could still feel and hear Adam’s consciousness somewhere in the back of his mind. “Too bad you can’t enjoy these muscles with me. If only you didn’t steal my shit, then maybe you wouldn’t be trapped inside your own mind right now, such a shame! Oh well… I guess I’ll just have to have fun for you!”

“Adam” hopped off his bed and took a quick selfie before he went out for a night of fun and fucking as revenge against his thief, all while the original Adam was powerless to stop him.

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

"..did you just sniff me ?"

"no."

immediate, crisp. a little snappy, maybe a little too fast. the word leaves tomura's mouth in an instant.

"..you sure ?" your voice shakes, lips twitching to desperate hide your smile. tomura's eyes twitch and narrow, he notices. "yeah." he grits out. his voice remains forcibly even.

"tomu--"

"i wouldn't sniff you. that's fucking weird." he readjusts on the couch, grunting as he does so. you can tell he's desperately trying to make himself more comfortable, he refuses to look your way.

"well, if you just so happened to--"

"i didn't."

"hypothetically. if you did, i smell different because i changed my perfume. it smelled good and i wanted to try something different." you explain, continuing to scroll on your phone in an attempt to calm your boyfriend's nerves. snuggling into him again. no matter how many times you do it it still makes him stiffen the slightest bit, affection is something he can never quite get used to. he loosens up soon after. slowly leaning his shoulders to yours just slightly so he can feel the pressure, so you can feel his weight on you.

it takes him a minute before he grunts out a barely audible "smells good."

[just-a-sewer-goblin]

Butcher!Simon x gn!reader Part 2 < Part 1 | COD Masterlist | Part 3 >

Butcher!Simon who is bored. It's a regular day and he just doesn't enjoy interacting with customers. It's just not his thing. The only exception is you but you always come in on tuesday and friday and today is neither. He sighs and grunts when another customer pays and leaves.

Imagine the way he suddenly perks up when he sees you approach the shop. The shop is empty except for him and so he gets the joy of watching you approach, your big ugly mutt on a leash, pacing besides you, never even tugging on the leash, focused on you.

The corner of his mouth twitches upwards when you stop before the shop and chew your lip indecisively rereading the sign that forbids dogs from entering (he loved and hates when you do that, nasty habit, but he wants to be the one to bite your lip instead).

You meet his eyes, that are already trained on you, intensely, and in an effort to not make you more uncomfortable he waves.

Shit did that look too excited? Maybe he can reassure you if he nods at you so you bring the dog in with you?

He nods his head at you. Hopefully you get what he's trying to tell you and don't think he's completely lost his mind now.

And oh, his thoughts come to a screeching halt, when you open the door and enter the shop, your dog at your hip.

Goddamit, Simon nearly groans in frustration. He wanted to prepare dog treats, but he didn't expect you today. How is he supposed to charm you if your brute of a dog doesn't like him?

But he doesn't have time to think more about that because you're at the counter and smile at him. He notices how much more at ease and confident you seem with your calf of a dog with you.

Maybe your dog is your equivalent of his mask.

And suddenly he's nervous. He never cared about the impression he makes on other but man, does he want to get along with your dog. He tries to hide his nerves when he says: "Didn't expect you today." His voice is gruff.

You don't seem as intimidated today, patting the head of your dog and saying with a smile that's audible in your voice (god, what he'd do to be the cause of that smile): "Yeah today is an exception. It's the anniversary of when I got my big baby."

Simon grabs the counter to keep from reaching for you and just snatching you up in his arms. Fuck. What he'd do for you to look at him like that, to call him your big baby. Maybe in his next life he gets to be reborn as your pet.

He nods at you, eyes intensely trained on your happy expression. "May I give him a treat, as an anniversary gift?"

Will you think that's ridiculous? Tell him to fuck off because it aint his business and he's being a creep anyway with the way he can't. Fucking. Take. His. Eyes. Off. You.

Instead you beam up at him and Simon feels something in his chest clench painfully at that. "Yes, of course."

He reaches for a piece of meat and steps out behind the counter. Pretending that he doesn't see the way your eyes widen when he steps closer and you grow more aware of just how broad and big he is. Pretending that he doesn't notice the way your hands clench around the leash tighter.

"He's friendly, just let him take it from you and don't pet him. He doesn't like that.", you say putting a reassuring hand on the back of your mutt.

Simon extends his hand with the meat and tried to read the tag at his collar.

"Easy, boy. Just a treat for you, for taking care of your owner so well."

He's so focused on trying to impress the dog (why is this so nerve wrecking) that he misses the way you bite your lip at the sound of his voice. He's insanely proud that he managed to not say "my love" instead. Doesn't want to scare you off after all.

Your dog takes a step forward, sniffs his fingers for a tense minute and then gently takes the meat from his hand, chewing it loudly making a pleased rumbling sound.

Simon feels like he won the lottery.

"Good boy.", your voice rings out and now it's not only Simons chest that clenches but something deep in his stomach as well, something delicious and needy.

His eyes meet yours and he feels like he's doused in cold water when he sees you looking at the dog.

You were talking to the dog. Of course.

[starkeyisthelastname]

sucking rafe off under the table. 😘🤌

(Thinking about season 2 Rafey. 😘)

He’d been so busy, running around with that lady came to the house. He had seemed so stressed, searching for whatever was so important. You just wanted to help him, hoping slobbering on his cock would make him relax.

You could hear the loud sniff as Rafe’s head swiped across the end of the table. He leaned back against the chair, hand still covered in white powder coming to grab your hair. His eyes rolled back as you swirled your tongue over his tip, being a tease with those pretty lips.

“Fuck… suck that fucking cock, slut.” Rafe’s voice so low it almost sounded like a growl.

Your cunt dripped in the pathetic lace of your pink panties as he called you a slut. Your innocent self getting off on his nasty words. Rafe had been rougher lately, more demanding and demeaning towards you. As needy as you were, you would do anything to please him. You fluttered your long lashes up at him, taking his dick further down your throat.

“There you go… gag on it.” He mumbled, pushing your head down to hear the audible sound.

[sturnioz]

wait omfg IMAGINE. Summer break, fratboy!chris and shy!reader’s circle of friends arranged an abroad trip. Secretly hes scared of flying and she figures it out and comforts him but he’s still tryna act all tough. Talking about how hes fine and doesn’t need to be babied.

even at night, the airport buzzes with activity — people strolling through the terminal, dragging suitcases and duffel bags behind them, while others lounge in the waiting chairs, wearing tired yet excited expressions on their faces. you're seated on one of the hard plastic chairs too, sipping from a bottle of water, your suitcase resting comfortably beside your legs.

the invitation to your very first trip abroad is both nerve-wracking and exhilarating. you can hardly believe it came from chris, who nonchalantly suggested the idea as if it were the most natural thing in the world; asking you to join him, his brothers, and nate for their summer break getaway.

your friend is coming along for the journey too, having been invited by nate, who she is currently hooking-up with. (you have no idea how or when it happened, but you're relieved it's not with the other frat brother who she was fucking before).

your attention flits to chris, who sits beside you, his elbow resting on the arm of the chair. he's chewing the cap of your water bottle between his teeth, and his leg bounces restlessly, knocking against yours.

you watch as his eyes dart around the airport, a flicker of something unfamiliar igniting each time he glances out the tall windows at the planes taking off and landing, a shuddering exhale escaping his lips, barely audible over the din of the terminal.

suddenly, everything falls into place, and your eyebrows raise in surprise as you realise that chris is scared. the revelation is a little startling; you've never seen him this way before.

"are you okay?" you ask, your concern breaking through the ambient noise.

"what?" chris snaps, his head whipping around to face you, the surprise evident in his eyes. he quickly adjusts his hat and sniffs, a familiar gesture that seems to ground him. "yeah.. m'fine."

you purse your lips, "are you s—"

"i said m'fine, kid." his tone is sharper now, a hint of frustration cutting through the air, and your shoulders sag in response. you can't help but pull a face at his attitude and of course, he notices immediately, scoffing as he shakes his head. "don't look at me like that."

"it's okay to be scared, y'know?" the words slip out, and you instantly wonder if it was the wrong approach. the look he gives you is dark, a silent command for you to back off, but you press on, determined to reassure him. "you're going to be fine... you actually have a higher chance of dying in a car crash than a—"

"shut the fuck up," his mouth parts in disbelief. "why would — you fuckin' serious? why would you tell me that? fuckin' dumbass."

you huff softly, a pout forming on your lips. "just... trying to help."

"i don't need help. m'not a fuckin' baby."

"... do you want to hold my hand?" the suggestion slips out before you can second-guess yourself, your voice light in attempt to break the tension.

chris closes his eyes, as if praying for patience. when he finally opens them, he deadpans. "i swear, kid. m'gonna drag your ass to that fuckin' runway and watch a plane squash you."

[boop-le-snoot]

masterlist

dirt

sundress+no panties+daryl = uh oh...

title and soundtrack is dirt by depeche mode. you need to take depeche mode away from me tbh, I'm hung up on the exciter album writing smut when I should be making updates to my negan and ironstrange fics.

I also headcanon daryl having huge fat swinging balls for some reason and I'm so sorry you had to read that I turn into an animal when I write daryl

cw: 18+, word count 3k. a little rough (butt slaps, some bites, he calls you a "bitch in heat" and a "slut" a couple of times - lovingly of course), a little pervy (you're fucking outside and daryl eats his own come out of your pussy+breeding kink if you squint really hard).

He reaches in, fingers curling around the bunched up, patterned cotton of the dress and his mind blanks. The low growling, he realises, is coming from his own mouth.

"The fuck, girl?"

You look at Daryl over your shoulder, where the bare skin has erupted in goosebumps from his hot, humid breath. "What?"

You sound annoyed, but there's a distinctive teasing undertone to it. Your eyes are narrowed a little too much. The corners of your cherry-tinted lips are tilted upwards.

"You ripped all my damn underwear, Daryl! What did you expect?" You grouch, breaking the second of still silence. "Can't just take a stroll to Victoria's Secret anymore, can I?" Seeing his face darken even more, you hastily add, "I got a couple I wear on runs."

You sound so cute when you're annoyed, Daryl thinks, but it's overshadowed by his blood rushing in his ears, hot and fast. His cock is still pulsing in his jeans and it demands to be released.

"So you jus' walkin' 'round with allat juicy ass hangin' out fo' all da men to sniff?" Daryl feels an urge to clarify to you, what is exactly you're doing, that he's upset with. "Cuz that's exactly what all them dawgs are fuckin' doin'!" He's jealous, of course he is, but most importantly, he doesn't trust any of the men as far as he can see them.

Hell, he isn't completely sure even Rick would pass on the opportunity to get an eyeful of your soft thighs, your scrumptious ass, or your fat cunt, for that matter.

Lord knows they're the juiciest fucking things he has seen in his whole entire miserable life. Just thinking about it makes his rock hard cock twitch and release a sad dribble of pre-cum in his pants.

"Exactly, your girl!" You declare, eyeroll audible in your voice. "Nobody's seein' me without my panties 'cept you."

Daryl's only response is to hitch up the sundress higher, the movement so quick, the fabric gives a sad crack as the seams threaten to burst. Your ass is still bare, still round and smooth as ever, nobody should have this sort of curves while they're in the middle of a damn apocalypse, he thinks, and sinks to his knees and sinks his teeth into the supple skin of your right ass cheek.

You yelp at the sharp pain. You squirm, your attempt at getting away, of course, futile: your hips and waist are firmly in his grasp. Rough fingertips dig into you, just shy of painful.

"There," Daryl inches back a bit, admiring the indentations left behind by his teeth. For someone who forgets to take care of himself most days, his teeth are surprisingly straight and white and strong. And he lets you feel it. "Now if any asshole decides to go nosin' where he shouldn't, there'll be a warnin'." Daryl sounds proud of himself, which is all and all - fair.

Once the initial shock subsides, your feel your cunt lips stick together even more as your arousal oozes out of them- and down your thighs, now that there isn't any fabric to contain it all. In all honesty, you did enjoy the occasional breeze that would waft up your skirt, even if it didn't offer much respite from the sweltering summer heat.

And Daryl is definitely not helping matters, either. He's like a damn furnace, pressed up against the back of your legs, all solid bulk, breathing hot and moist into your skin, every exhale going around the curve of your ass and disappearing between your legs. He knows it the moment that you shift in place, subtly trying to widen your stance even though there is nothing more you want than to rub your thighs together to provide relief to your swollen lips and throbbing clit.

He raises a hand, wide and open-palmed, and smacks your ass. "You're such a fuckin' slut," he grouses. And your first instinct is to gasp at the offense; you hide your grin in a lip bite. Yes, yes you are. And you know it. And he knows it. Your ass cheek jiggles as he gives it another well-aimed slap. "Lookit you," Daryl presses the issue, "drippin' wet." To hammer his point home, he takes a thick, fat finger and runs it along the seam of your cunt.

It glides easily. You shudder, biting back a moan. Your legs shake just a little, but Daryl notices - he always does - and his finger dips inside your lips. The rough, calloused fingertip swipes through your labia, stopping just short of your clit. You whine and he withdraws.

His numerous knives and tools clatter as he abruptly gets up.

"You wanna be fucked, huh?" Voice quiet, Daryl's front presses to your back with a malicious intent. The prominent bulge of his erection is pushing into your back. "Is that why you goin' round naked? So anybody coulda bend you over, anytime, huh?" He reaches around you, hand blindly nosing for your face. When he finds it, he wastes no time in prying your mouth open, sticking the damp finger inside.

Your own cunt, salty and tangy, blossoms on your tongue. The gesture makes you moan around his finger and him- he sticks another one in, keeping you quiet.

"Shut the fuck up," Daryl orders. The rasp in his voice makes your knees buck and your cunt weep and he knows it. His free hand moves at your back, and with the accompanying noises, you come to realise that he's opening his pants and hurrying to free his dick.

When the damp, silky tip touches the bare skin of your ass, your body reacts before you do. Your mouth wraps tighter around his fingers. Spit dribbles from the corners of your mouth and onto his wrist. Your back arches into his body. He is just as scalding as the sun beaming down from the sky.

Daryl pushes his fingers deeper into your mouth, holding them there until you gag. The motion makes your whole form spasm and shiver; his cock gives a responding jump of its own.

"Lookit you," he rasps directly into your ear, hot breath tickling the shell of it. "Like a fuckin' bitch in heat," he grabs the meat of your ass cheek, spreading you one-handed. His cockhead noses around the cleft, leaving a sticky trail behind itself. It dips near your cunt, adding your juices to the mix. "You want it so bad."

You do. You really, really do. But you know Daryl is mean. You love it when he's mean to you. When he is proud of the strength of his bulk, when his eyebrows draw tightly over his brilliant blue eyes and nothing, absolutely nothing can escape his predatory stare. You crane your neck, trying to look back at him, to plead with your eyes.

He gets it, because he always does. Daryl's fingers quickly leave your mouth, dragging a wet trail of spit down to your neck where his fingers wrap around it in a secure hold.

"You want it so bad, then fuckin' beg," he says the words and you immediately, greedily descend into the permitted depravity.

"Please, Daryl," your voice sounds hoarse, interrupted by hiccups as you struggle to swallow the saliva that had pooled in your mouth and around his fingers, "please, fuck me. I'll be good. Please."

You feel him fist his cock as it twitches; you can't help it, really, as you arch your back even more and push your ass against his rough hand. Immediately, he withdraws it, just to slap you again.

"You're a bitch in heat," he muses, but you can hear the beginnings of impatience in his voice. "Say it!"

He's never made you do that before. Wide-eyed and open-mouthed, you gasp, part shock part offense, until you feel a drop of fluid roll out over the outer lip of your cunt and fall and disappear somewhere below you. Then it's just lust. The kind that tints the whole world red and narrows your field of vision.

"Fuckin' say it!" Daryl demands, patience thin.

You wouldn't put it past him to just shove himself in at this point. "I'm... I'm a bi- I'm a bitch in heat," you hiccup, feeling your face flood with heat. "I'm a bitch in heat, please fuck me!"

You feel his lips tilt up just the tiniest bit against your ear before he reaches back for his cock and aims it at your cunt in a single, precise thrust. You gasp and mewl as he suddenly stops halfway through. Your cunt ripples and flexes and squeezes. Daryl drops his forehead onto your shoulder, panting.

"So fuckin' tight," he murmurs, mostly to himself. You're not - he knows better, he makes sure you're not before he even thinks about sticking it in - but you are. All that blood that went straight to your cunt the moment his breath caught up in his throat at the sight of your bare pussy - It's making your cunt swell all around him.

A pathetic mewl leaves your lips, your satisfaction incomplete. You wiggle, you arch, but Daryl is as unyielding as ever.

"You take what I give you," he growls, teeth bared like an animal against your ear. Nonetheless, you feel the tip of his cock kiss your cervix. Stars burst in your eyes. You are so full, practically bursting at the seam of your cunt where his fat balls rest against the stretched hole.

Slowly, Daryl withdraws, both of you hissing at the drag of his fat cock in your engorged cunt. You may be a bitch in heat but he's every bit the stud that is just as fervent and feral to breed you. His teeth creak as he pulls back completely, leaving just his weeping tip inside of you.

And then he slams home. And again. And again. And again.

With every powerful thrust of his hips, you gasp. Quiet, pleading moans is the limit of your vocal capacity. Mouth dry, the air gets trapped in the back of your throat as your lungs demand their due.

Daryl is unrelenting. His blunt fingernails drag over the skin of your throat, leaving marks in their wake, as he makes way to your mouth.

"This is what you wanted, slut?" He pants into your hair. "Be quiet. Be really fucking quiet unless you want everybody to see what kinda..." He inhales sharply, feeling your walls flutter at the flith dripping from his tongue.

And it shouldn't make you feel the way you feel. Those fucking words just add more accelerant to the fire in the pit of your stomach, spreading it from there and up, over your face. It flames. Your hand helplessly clutches the nearest surface as you attempt to brace yourself against his thrusts and the notion that anyone could see you.

Bent over something or another, dress hiked up to your waist and Daryl's hips pistoning in and out of you at a rapid pace. He didn't bother undressing save for letting his pants hang freely just below his cock and balls. Heavy, fat balls, littered with coarse dark hair, that slap against your cunt and your clit with a resounding smack every time he drives his cock inside of your cunt. The squelching noise it makes is obscene.

Another whine, and your pussy squeezes him once again, blind and hungry for release. You can feel it building steadily, deep within your abdomen.

"Fuck yeah," Daryl growls, "you fuckin' like this, don't 'cha?" He's gotten the hang of it: the dirty talk, he knows exactly how to get under your skin. He's a mean bastard with nothing close to dignity or self-respect. If anyone saw him, rutting into you, little more than two animals, he wouldn't, couldn't stop.

Daryl would stare them down up until his cock swelled and busted, depositing his seed inside your womb.

Your knees feel weak. It's getting harder and harder to keep up with him; seems like every pathetic whimper that leaves your lips only makes him meaner, stronger somehow. The grip of his hand on your hip is bruising. Daryl effectively wears you on his cock, submerging himself into the warm depths of your pulsing cunt over and over.

"Da-Daryl..." You gasp, you moan and you plead.

He doesn't stop. He merely handles you into a different angle, the one that hits that special spot inside of you with every powerful thrust. He is mean, but he is also fair.

"Gonna cream my cock?" He barely makes sense to himself, the words that his dry mouth garbles seem to have a mind of their own. "Gonna be good, girl? C'mon."

"Ah," you want to say yes, you want to affirm, but all that comes out of your mouth are garbled, unintelligible noises of pleasure. But Daryl sees it. It's in the way your arch becomes near-painful, body overtaking your mind. Even the slightest bit of pain blends into hot-blinding pleasure. You don't know where what ends and begins.

It begins somewhere behind your cunt. The contractions start slow and aching, and every punch of his cock to your guts intensifies the feeling tenfold, until every last inch of your cunt is squeezing around him in that same arduous, suckling rhythm. It's like your pussy is nursing at his cock, attempting to suck his life out of him and deposit it into you.

The pleasure is like a wall of fire and water. Your chest blooms with it, but your extremities swarm with pinpricks. Mouth parted in a silent scream, you sway forward, managing to catch yourself on your elbows at the last moment.

The man behind you doesn't care. He's way past caring, having had started chasing his release the moment your cunt enveloped his cock in a vice grip. The meat of it is sensitive and he spends the few inches to the finish line gracelessly mashing it inside of you, accompanied by the sound of wet flesh meeting even wetter, sloppier flesh.

"Take it, fuckin' take it," you hear him gasp through your stupor before that familiar, warm rush floods your cunt. His cock twitches, once, twice, three times, each forceful throb followed up by more and more seed being pumped into the depths of you.

Against your back, Daryl sags and pants out his excerption. Like a dog. His wet nose leaves sweat stains on your back where he nuzzles into you.

Your knees shake as you struggle to hold up his weight, and then your legs completely turn to mush when droplets of his cum escape your cunt as his spent cock slips out. You know you should be worried about stains in unsightly places but somehow, you can't bring yourself to care.

Daryl notices this, of course. His bulk slides off you; you hear him quickly shove himself back into his pants before his ass hits the ground with a loud thud. Next to you, of course, his stubbly, prickly cheek rubbing over the skin of your leg. He places a wet kiss on the inside of your thigh, and then another.

You know the drill. It's hard for him to find words, sometimes, after a scene like that. It's the intensity of it, the forceful ejection of him out of his head where he spends most of the time, that renders him speechless. Daryl is forced to feel - good things. It's not something that he is used to.

Your skirt is still around your waist and the hot sun is shooting lasers directly at your ass and pussy. You've managed to get your bearings enough to feel at least a little self-conscious, a little exposed. Your combined fluid still drip from you and for a split second, you think about pulling up your panties to try and at least somewhat contain the mess.

Right, you sigh to yourself. It makes your exhausted body twitch and sag even more.

Daryl gently pushes away your hand that was attempting to pull the dress over your ass. You freeze; he smiles against your skin, a little closed-lipped grin that makes something warm and fuzzy make a nest inside your chest. That quickly turns into a startled gasp as his fingers glide through the mess of your cunt.

You're spent. Exhausted. So sensitive, his rough skin practically hurts on your hole and clit.

But Daryl gets it. You get him, and he - he gets you. His hot breath fans over your pubic hair and it's all the warning you get before he opens his mouth wide, flattens his tongue and licks. You've made a big mess and there is a lot to take care of, but if there's anything about Daryl that you know, is that he's thorough at what he does.

In no time, he's got his tongue shoved down your cunt as far as it would go, curling against your walls, lapping up his and your cum like your pussy is an all-you-can-eat-buffet and what's inside of it is sugar and spice and everything nice.

But it's not enough. It's not anywhere near your clit, or any other place that could make you produce more of the cream he's feasting on. Idly, you think about who's the real bitch in heat here, but push out your hips to meet his face nonetheless. You can be mean too. If you want to.

I don't know what to say for myself

[avpdpossum]

an incomplete list of things my avpd says i’m not allowed to do:

laugh at something on tv before someone else laughs at it first

say the answers to jeopardy questions out loud when i know them

visibly react to getting hurt

sing or scream at full volume, even while alone

fall asleep in the car when no one else is sleeping

cook while other people are home

ask someone if they’re okay or try to figure out what might help them

express affection to my immediate family or say anything sincere to them

blush (which does happen to come with the territory of being embarrassed 24/7)

fart, burp, or hiccup audibly

sneeze or sniff too many times

“look cold” when it’s cold out

raise my arms if there might be any kind of sweat stains on my shirt

“act horny” while actively making out with or having sex with my boyfriend

reply to someone when i’m not 100% sure what they said

ask someone to repeat themselves when i didn’t hear them

break a rule i’ve been told to follow

follow a rule everybody else is breaking

smile at, greet, or even just look at someone i know when i see them

suggest a restaurant to go to or a movie to watch

talk about liking something without knowing the general public perception of it

form my own political/social opinions and stick to them when people disagree

retweet something that hasn’t already been retweeted by someone i follow

say anything in a group chat or server

or, in other words, literally just exist as a human being and live my life at all. i’m so fucking tired.

[laylarevengers]

dancing with our hands tied. manjiro sano x fem! reader. bonten timeline. established relationship (marriage). established biological son. changes like emma, shinichiro, izana are around alongside most ‘dead’ characters in this arc. overall fluff!

“hey, don’t do that. you’ll get hurt.” manjiro mumbled, stretching his arms and pushing his son back from the table he was gladly going to walk into. it was weird, having two people that he loves this dearly, that is. y/n and his son. every time he watched the three-year-old kid play around in his office, ruin papers and invade executives meetings with his barely audible words; it made manjiro’s heart flutter. fuck, he loved that kid to hell and back.

he wanted to leave. get away and ensure that this kid won’t be tied to him, have him have a normal life without any fear, but he couldn’t. he couldn’t leave. he left y/n once and it was the worst time of his life, what will happen when he leaves her and his son again? the light of his life? the only ones that make him laugh that boyish smile he used to have in his toman days.

“dad!” a whiney voice snapped manjiro and out of his thoughts. he sat one of the meeting rooms with the executives, all waiting for some snobby people to have a dumb finance meeting with, all with the child running around the room. y/n had work, manjiro does not trust babysitters, and the executives are here so he had no choice but to have him attend with him.

‘teach them young,’ manjiro chuckled when he remembered y/n’s words at the decision to take the kid. little fingers pointed at the haitani brothers, “ran, candy!” mikey’s full attention was on the broken, mumbled words spoken. he hummed, “yeah? ran toke your candy?” he couldn’t help but smile at the desperate nods from the little boy and how he crossed his arms with a small pout, glaring at ran and rindou who couldn’t control their laughter anymore.

it was crazy, manjiro thought, how much of a carbon copy of him this kid was. the same silky black hair that y/n insisted on letting grow, similar to how mikey had it in his toman days. the same big, black eyes but unlike his own, the boy’s was full of light and sparkles whenever he looked at his dad. he stood there, small and arms-crossed, wearing the cardigan auntie emma had crocheted him with the sweatpants and snickers that he bought with uncle izana and uncle shinichiro after motorcycle rides.

manjiro bent down and picked the little boy, sitting him on his lap. small arms immediately wrapped themselves around mikey’s neck, “did ran and rin make you sad?” manjiro mumbled, patting the boys back. he heard a small sniff then a muttered, “yes.” it was times like these where the executives saw the real manjiro. when he was around his son or his wife, soft and gentle and happy.

manjiro turned boy around, “sanzu is right there. go tell ‘em.” he pointed at the pink haired man who just walked into the room. ran and rindou groaned in fake fear as the little boy smiled widely and rubbed the tears away with his sleeve. he quickly got off mikey’s lap and ran towards sanzu who almost immediately put the cigarette he had in hand when he heard the small call of his name, “san-zoo! ran-rin, candy!”

mikey watched as the boy jumped in anticipation in front of sanzu. “oh, yeah? you want me to take care of them?” sanzu bent down so he was face to face with the boy. “yes! can we, dad?!” manjiro noted how clearer his words were becoming now, he had to tell y/n later tonight. he nodded, giving the boy permission which immediately made him burst into laughter and giggles as he ran towards the haitanis with screams and hit them with small fists to which they pretended to get hurt by with fake groans and cries of pain.

manjiro audibly laughed. “the assholes are here,” koko told him. mikey hummed, “hey. no cursing.” god, he’s such a dad. manjiro called the boy by his nickname which immediately caught his attention. it was always like that. the boy admired his dad so much. “come on. you gonna sit with dad as he listen to some assholes?” koko could only roll his eyes. the boy ran excitedly towards his dad, climbing onto his lap while refusing any help with the task until he sat completely and placed his small hands on the table with a small serious face.

the bonten executives all let out small chuckles as manjiro ruffled the boy’s hair, “good job. ‘always making dad proud.” the boy rested his back onto mikey’s chest and holding his wrist with a small shy smile.

manjiro sighed heavily as he locked the front door after coming in. he toke off his shoes, making sure the boy sleeping in his arms would not be disturbed. he glanced at the shoe wardrobe they have by the door and could not find y/n’s shoes placed outside the wardrobe indicating she came come. weird. it’s really late.

he continued into the penthouse until he reached the living room closest to the master bedroom where he placed the small boy on the sofa, slowly taking off his white sneakers. “jiro,” mikey turned around and saw her. he could not help but smile, “hey.” he replied lowly as she made her way towards both her boys, placing a small kiss on each of their forehead.

she was still in her work clothes, mikey noticed. they both sat on the floor, leaning on the couch where their boy laid, heavily sleeping. “how was today?” she asked with a whisper, brushing strands of black hair away from the small face of the sleeping boy. mikey shrugged, “practically spent all day in the meeting. we got cupcakes after we were done. that’s it really.” y/n looked up at manjiro with a small smile, “cupcakes?”

he lowered his eyes from hers. ‘kinda want cupcakes… anyway, where is ___’s white sneakers?’ words uttered by y/n this morning as all three of them got ready. manjiro always did that; made sure neither of his two stars went to bed without having anything they wanted. he has money, he’s not using it and he loves seeing the small giggles and laughter erupted after he gets things as small as cupcakes or a lollipop.

“he asked to come to work with me again,” manjiro said. y/n smiled, “yeah? are you going to take with you?” her fingers stopped playing with long black hair and turned to play with much shorter black hair. “i’ll take him with me when it’s boring days like these.” y/n understands he means when he doesn’t have to use guns and get chased by the authorities. she was a worrier, especially when it came to her little boy, but she doesn’t trust anyone more than she does manjiro sano.

“you’re thinking.” she mumbled, eyes not wandering away from mikey’s face. he remained looking in front of him, tangling his fingers with hers, “‘saw a normal company, business man with his little daughter at the bakery. made me think. fuck, i’m a mess.” he chuckled, his un-intertwined hand coming to push his hair back from his face. y/n cupped his face with her free hand, “well, you’re the mess that i want. that we both want.”

“y/n, people will talk. put us in our place. threaten. they will—“

“manjiro sano. you think i don’t know? i knew no one in the world could take it, but…”

“but you,” mikey finished her sentence immediately. silence fell again before y/n spoke up once more, “you know we won’t be able to do anything without you. ‘need you, jiro, both of us do. always will do.” before manjiro could muster up a reply, a small yawn caught their attention. “mama..!” tired excitement erupted from the boy as he stretched his arms towards y/n. “hi, baby. had fun with dad?”

“always!”

manjiro’s eyes widened slightly at the boy’s reply. y/n’s small chuckled alongside the tired giggles of his son made him feel warm. tracing everything, they were making him a better man. giving up alcohol and cigarettes, rarely forcing anger out and using rationality because his little boy could always be around and looking at dad.

“i love you,” manjiro suddenly said to the both of them. “love dad!” the boy replied without hesitation, hugging both his parents. y/n rested her head on manjiro’s shoulders, “i love you more.” she whispered softly, helping their boy comfortably lay on the both of them and drift back to sleep.

they will wake up with the worst back pain, but manjiro wanted it that way if it meant having this. having them. because he knows he needs them more than they will ever need him and he was way more than okay with that.

[officialabortive]

Barbarian!Bakugou x FoxHybrid!Reader

Barbarian!Bakugou had already set up camp for the night under a canopy of thick tree branches. Finally finding some semblance of relief within the cool shade, when he was disturbed by jingling of rusted bells and worn out wooden wheels clacking against rough terrain. Of course, he knows before even looking, that it was the tell tale clatter of a wandering merchant. Bakugou makes haste, jogging over to see the available merchandise. Opportunities like this are rare, as merchants who travel so far out are few and far between.

The stallions —who are surprisingly well kept and very clearly well groomed— hauling the small wooden caravan came to a halt as the man holding the reigns gave a tug upon noticing a blonde figure jogging up. Dropping the reigns, the man swiftly hoped to the ground, ready to offer a sales pitch. Clasping his hands together, the merchant gave his best smile. It was obviously forced, far to wide and toothy to be genuine. Katsuki already pinned him as an obnoxious asshole.

"Ah! Hello, hello, good sir! Would you be interested in making a purchase? You've come at a good time, I have quite the selection at the moment!"

Bakugou grunts "maybe. What'd you have?" The cart was ever so slightly too elevated to see inside without needing to jump to look in over the edge

"Oh please do come take a look!"

Bakugou trails behind him to the back of the caravan where they can see in through the open back. Several hybrids sat on the wooden flooring, all of which having their gaze pinned directly back on him.

"I only carry the cutest and most unique hybrids! Even some exotic breeds! Only the best of the best! And I can assure you they are all perfectly family friendly!" He started pointing to them individually. "Here we have a beautiful teddywidder rabbit! This is red tailed deer! Over here is one of my personal favorites, a rare spot-"

"Got any hunters?"

The man began stumbling over his words. Now one ever wanted something like that, a possible threat. People wanted a nice cute hybrid to have around the house and be loved by children.

"I- uh- well, I do have this exotic snowy fox, who I'm sure is an amazing hunter. Foxes are known for their incredible hearing, agility, and stealth! All amazing attribut-"

"I'll take 'em"

There was an audible ting, Bakugou having flicked something to the man who fumbled to catch it, even with using two hands. Greedy eyes bulge at the perfectly circular gold piece in his palm. Gluttony has evidently long had it's unshakable grasp on his greed ridden soul.

—

You were fairly well behaved. Immediately inspecting the temporary camp, analyzing each item in the worn out bag that lay open on the dirt. Than coming to sniff at bakugou, poking and prodding, curiously tugging at each individual necklaces on his chest. He'd even noticed how you sat exclusively in shaded areas, and squinting whenever you weren't.

Yeah, he regrets not thinking further into the whole 'only liking dark areas' thing. Turns out foxes are fucking nocturnal.

Now, the sun had long gone in to hiding, yet here sits a very much wide awake, agitated barbarian. Slouched with arms crossed over his chest as he glares at nothing in particular.

"Can't believe I spent fuck'n money on this bullshit– QUIT IT!"

The sales basterd was right, you were definitely stealthy. And for Katsuki, it's annoying as shit. He can't even hear your approach when you pounce on him from behind, cackling when you successfully grab on to him mid-jump. Only after several hours worth of attempts to catch you, only for you to slip right out of his grasp, to have you apprehend and tired. Finaly he can get some damn shut ey- why the fuck are you burrowing under his cloak!?

Whatever. At least bakugou is confident in your skills required for hunting. Perfect.

MASTERLIST

[skamenglishsubs]

Subtext and Culture, Young Royals, Season 3, Episode 2

Episode 2 starts days or maybe a week after episode 1. The curfews and phone ban is in place, so Wilhelm and Simon make the most of their one hour of phone sex talking.

Blink and you miss it: Wilhelm snapped a quick instant picture of himself and Simon at the palace in the last episode, using the camera we saw on his desk. The heart is still on his hand, so maybe it's the next day, or maybe he's been filling it in every day.

Cinematography: Intense red light typically symbolizes their mutual love, and this scene is overflowing with it.

Lost in translation: They both finish the phone call with "puss", which means kiss, but not exactly. It's more platonic, something you can say and do with your parents, or your kids, or end phone calls with. The other word for kiss, "kyss", is more romantic/sexual, and would be super weird to end a phone call with. Simon is using that word when he says he would kiss Wilhelm's collar bone birth mark.

Subtext: Of course Vincent doesn't believe anyone was bullied. He's the biggest bully, but what he does is just a joke, or the other guy deserved it. This is gonna be a recurring theme™ in this episode, how various characters look back on and remember, or choose not to remember, what happened to them.

Subtext: If you didn't pick up this meaningful glance, you're blind. The initiation porno was totally real, and Nils and August clearly remember it, and weren't as flippant about it as Vincent.

Culture: In Sweden, inner city schools are typically better and have richer students than the poorer schools out in the suburbs. This is the exact opposite of the typical US school demographical pattern.

Subtext: Wilhelm avoids Farima's question by evading it. Note that it does make sense that she doesn't know what's going on at these schools since she's an employee, she's not upper-class herself. Wilhelm's parents know though since they attended Hillerska, but they would of course never admit it either.

Culture: Ironically, this is exactly how the real-world Danish royal family handled the Herlufsholm scandal in 2022 involving prince Christian. Only when the media storm in Denmark got too intense did they pull him out of the school, while furiously denying knowledge of the abuse or that he was involved in any way.

Cinematography: We're in the cursed music room, but the light is soft and golden, and the scene is just cute. No fight this time.

Subtext: We're touching the theme™ again, but from Simon's perspective. He has the same outsider perspective we have; speaking up about abuse is always good, and if the school's closing because of it, that's an obviously good thing. There's plenty of scenes in this episode showing that most Hillerska students don't share this perspective, they really love their school, as fucked up as it is.

Subtext: Although it sounds like a rehearsed PR line and Felice is thinking about her girl group here, it's gonna come true for her and Sara.

Subtext: Yuck. No further comment.

Cinematography: The immediate cut to Felice getting her aggressions out in gym class shows us exactly what she thought of what the principal said and how much it pissed her off.

Blink and you miss it: Simon audibly sniffs Wilhelm's hair.

Blink and you miss it: Micke made dinner for both of them, but in her depression, Sara ignores the cooked food (Pyttipanna, btw), and makes herself a cucumber sandwich instead.

Subtext: Micke is a man on a mission, and he is constantly steering the conversation towards helping Sara get her driver's license. For him, it's a way to make up for having been a shitty parent.

Culture: Sweden has long been a holdout of stick-shift cars, and if you don't do your practical test in a stick-shift, you'll get a restricted license, so it's not out of the ordinary for Micke to be teaching Sara how to drive one. However, automatics have seen a sharp rise in the last decade, and in 2024 automatics will finally overtake them.

Culture: The green ÖVNINGSKÖRNING sign is compulsory in Sweden if a car is being driven by someone on a learner's permit, with a parent or friend as the instructor. There's also a red version of the sign, which indicates it's a student driver with a professional instructor in a dual control car.

Cinematography: The room is filled to the brim with things to do, there's a bazillion board games, they have books, magazines, fidget thingies, they're drowning in stuff, and yet the girls are still soooooo boooored just because they don't have their phones. Except Madison, who is knitting.

Subtext: Here comes the theme™ again, and Fredrika is firmly in camp denial. Everyone else is just lying and exaggerating! The wheels are starting to turn in Felice's head though.

Subtext: Nils and August are finally talking about the initiation without Vincent being present, and they can finally be honest about what they actually thought about it. It happened, they didn't like.

Subtext: Their idea of fixing it however is not to go out publicly and talk about it, but to just quietly stop the tradition, hoping they'll be the last ones. (Since there are no second-year students in the show, we have no idea what happened to them, so we're just gonna ignore that.)

Subtext: And here comes the reason that August wanted to put a stop to it. He was completely humiliated by it, and he doesn't want anyone else to know that he was humiliated, because that just makes it worse. This is also the reason that traditions like this keep on going, no-one wants to blow the whistle on it, because everyone was abused, everyone was a victim, it's hard for abuse victims to speak up.

Cinematography: The talk with Nils triggered an anxiety attack for August, and being inside his small room doesn't exactly help. Him going so close to the camera that he almost bumps into it really shows how he feels like the walls are closing in on him.

Culture: This, kids, is a standard Swedish landline telephone jack. For the longest time I thought phone jacks looked like this everywhere, but it turns out that this particular design was only used in Sweden and Iceland(!?!). You won't find these in newer buildings because landlines are pretty much dying out, and if there are phone jacks they'll probably be using the much more common RJ-11 standard.

Culture: This, kids, is an Ericsson Diavox phone. The former government phone monopoly in Sweden, Televerket, only allowed certified and approved phones to be used on the network, and they only approved a very small set of phones, so everyone had pretty much the same phones in their homes. However, in the 1980's the market started getting flooded with "illegal" phones from other countries, so the monopoly simply stopped enforcing the rule, and you could finally, finally, plug in that novelty Garfield phone that you always wanted.

Blink and you miss it: Sara is studying for her driving test, and she's reading about driving in the dark.

Subtext: We're gearing up for the main plotline of the season, dropping more hints that maybe Wilhelm's image of Erik wasn't complete, and what August says sows some seeds of doubt in him.

Subtext: This song is objectively not very good, please don't kill me, but it is very sixteen-year-old-boy-just-singing-from-his-heart, not thinking about the text.

Subtext: Simon isn't wearing anything purple, but just after he posts his song video, he picks up a purple shirt, drops it immediately, and then the camera lingers on it. Colour theory goes brrrrrrrr. He thought about Wilhelm, and then stopped because his music is more important to him or something?

Subtext: Unlike Simon, Wilhelm immediately understands how problematic the text is for him, and how people will interpret it...

Subtext: ...but since he doesn't want to hurt Simon's feelings, he lies about why he thinks the song was a very, very bad idea. And he cushions it by telling Simon that he thinks the song is jätte-jätte-bra. Giant-giant-good.

Subtext: Yes, but also no, and someone from the court really should have given Simon some media training and explained to him why he has to be very careful about what he posts. But it's drama fuel, which is why this disaster is allowed to happen.

Subtext: A nice little throwback to season 1, this is exactly what Erik told Wilhelm in the first episode, about making sure that their public image is carefully curated.

Subtext: That's some on-the-nose foreshadowing there, since Felice is one of the main causes for the school ultimately closing.

Subtext: We're back to the theme™, Fredrika is saying pretty much the same thing as Vincent. It didn't happen, and if it did, it wasn't that bad.

Subtext: However, Felice isn't playing along this time, she's starting to speak up about the issues, and the result is a long, awkward silence, because her friends are not willing to do the same.

Subtext: Wilhelm and the rest of the rich kids are of course all wearing pretty expensive high-end hiking gear, in contrast with Simon who is simply wearing one of his usual hoodies and his usual winter jacket that we've seen before. That's a damn fine jacket from Fjällräven, btw, the same company that makes the weirdly globally popular Kånken backpacks.

Blink and you miss it: Henry is getting dragged for his actually quite reasonable objection to the tent groupings.

Subtext: Felice physically distances herself from her friends, and joins Simon and Wilhelm, in a nice little foreshadowing of the show's ending.

Blink and you miss it: Did you miss the line in last episode where Ayub said they were also gonna go camping at Talludden with their classmates from Marieberg? Well, here they are, because they pitched their tents nearby, and decided to go check out the Hillerska camp. It's not just Rosh and Ayub randomly walking through the woods.

Subtext: In season 2, we learned that Stella has a crush on Fredrika that she thinks is one-sided, but Fredrika sure has some kind of reaction to seeing Stella being close with Rosh. Jealousy, perhaps? Not clear at this point in time.

Subtext: Read the room Fredrika, for fuck's sake. At least Wilhelm has started learning to recognize privilege. The other rich kids probably recognize their privilege, but they're mostly just enjoying how much better they are than the poor regular kids.

Subtext: But Wilhelm's still got a lot more to learn. Yes, technically he is forced to spend his summer studying, and technically it is a kind of work, but the underlying reasons are completely different. If he skips it or fails, nothing bad will happen to him, unlike the Marieberg kids who rely on their summer jobs to have any sort of spending money.

Lost in translation: Wilhelm's dad says that the queen is going to be "sjukskriven", which is more serious than someone deciding on their own to take some time off or to use some sick days. It means that a doctor has evaluated you and decided that you are not fit to work, and that if you're a regular person, you are eligible for sick pay for the foreseeable future.

Cinematography: Yeah, mommy is really sick and Wilhelm is feeling the weight of responsibility, but take a look at that sunrise! It's so pretty! Wilhelm is completely in shadow because trouble whatever, but look at how that light just pops, with the sky and the water and the sun on the trees! Beautiful!

[elvhensinner]

Fuck Around & Find Out

Kwon Eunbi smut 4.2k words Tags: Honeymoon sex, (Just got) Married, "Soft" & "Wholesome", Roleplay, Musk, Bondage, Very thick Eunbi T/W: Noncon, R A P E, Mindbreak A/N: I had a hard time proofreading this so pardon some doodoos and lack of eloquence at some parts ✌️

"Hey there, hubby." Eunbi squeals at that last bit, unable to contain herself as she welcoms you to the honeymoon suite. You linger at the full smile she had on before your eyes devour tonight's entrée.

You think back to all the pictures you have of her. You can't imagine any one of them topping your view tonight; Kwon Eunbi in her wedding lingerie.

A fine white mesh barely obstructs the sight of her legs.

A garter belt that connects her girdle to her thigh highs.

The thinnest of lace straps holding up her lace bra.

Asides from 'wedding night', you detect a theme for her attire: 'Clothes so tight that she's popping out', evident from plump parts of her body constricted here and there, practically eating the straps enveloped by the pudge of her body.

'Dummy thicc' worthy of the name. You couldn't wait to rip off what little clothes she had.

Tonight truly was a magical night, for besides finally getting married, tonight of all nights was when she finally decided to succumb to your bondage kink.

“Nnngghhhh” Eunbi whines, snapping you out of your trance. Squirms, even, probably from the lack of action on your part. “Hubby, I don’t know if I could hold this pose any longer without combusting.” There it is, her fluffy demeanor that contrasted her dynamite body. You remember why this is the first time she's agreed to this. Her legs attempt to cover her crotch area, but all it does is tighten the ropes around her shins.

“Seriously, I’m dying of embarrassment here. M-maybe you can take a picture so it could last longer.”

You take out your phone and fill the silent room with the sound of camera shutters. All angles of her beauty splayed out were yours to capture.

Once you leaned in closer. Your nose was immediately enchanted with her fragrance. Probably lotion. So elegant and warm. Almond shea body butter, if you remember correctly. Probably even applied a little extra, judging by the sheen of her skin. You get carried away and produce an audible sniff, making her giggle.

You've had enough. Her scent was the final nail in the coffin. The heat in your loins dictate your movement. In A Flash, your monkey suit drops to the ground.

“Are you ready to start, hubby?” she didn't need to ask twice. With just your boxers covering you, you bring your knees up to the bed and inch your way between her legs.

Your raging hog was already aligned to her crotch area, ready to rip off all the fabric in between should it need to, until she interrupts you with a clear of her throat.

“O-oh you must be the plumber… M-Mister plumber, could you give me a hand?” She pled with such a submissive, squeaky voice, stopping you in your tracks.

You were fully aware of her roleplaying kink, but you didn't think she'd bust that out tonight. 'Happy wife happy life', you thought, getting off the bed so you could reach her side to indulge in her fiction.

“Woah, what's happening here?” You said with a distorted, indistinguishable voice. Her nose flared, probably due to the comedic pitch you chose.

Getting her bearings back, Eunbi gets back in character "Well.. you scared my boyfriend... he thought you were my dad so he fled."

"Mmhm... and he's the one who tied you up?

"Yeah, b-but only 'cause we were trying something out... Could you help untie me?" she said in the tiniest, cutest voice. Even roleplaying she cant help but be all soft.

"Sure, sure" you said, as your fingers finagle the rope securing her arm.

"He's a lucky fella for you to agree to this." Once you’ve had your fill of hearing her whimpers and her small voice thanking you for untying her, your hands abandon its play pretend and lightly touching her arm. Tracing her wrist down to her arm. This made Eunbi twitch in 'shock'.

"Well it seems like your boyfriend's not coming anytime soon, so maybe I could replace him-"

"No please." She says in panic "I just really need to be untied."

"Mmhm sure you do" Your hands travel to her exposed tummy and rub her mid section sensually, making Eunbi bend her body to avoid the plumber’s curious hands.

“S-sir… could you please just focus on untying me?”

You filter out her words, too busy with groping the glory of a tied up Kwon Eunbi. You decide to tease her main attraction; her boobs. A pair so voluptuous that merely pinching her bra strap and tugging on it caused them to sway around with gravity.

It was moan after moan for Kwon Eunbi, clearly enjoying this too much. She dives deeper into fantasy:

“No mr. plumber. Those... those are for my boyfriend.”

“Ngghh.. I wore this for my boyfriend, but the filthy plumber’s the one enjoying it”

“Please don't do this. I dont want to be a disloyal girlfriend."

Spitting out more and more words push you past your tilting point. You pry a finger on her bra strap and —unlike the playful teasing from before— you retract your hand hard, making it snap. With her tits in the air, you dive in.

“S-sir sir sir, please unhand my ooohhh fuckk…. please, not my boobs, they’re my boyfriend’s favourite”

“Mmmh I can see why” still by her side, you had to make do with just one tiddy. Your hand grips and kneads, focusing between fondling her globes, and using two front fingers to flick her nipples to kingdom come, earning bigger and throatier moans from the tig bitty lady.

“He must be the luckiest man on earth to be able to fondle these tits every night. Do I fondle your boobs that same way your boyfriend does?”

“Fuck, I love this so much, baby-”

“E-ehem” you try and snap her right back into sticking with the script.

“I-I mean no. You don't do it the same way as my boyfriend. He usually kisses me while he fondles me…” her mouth tilts to your direction, already expecting your lips to touch hers. You fight off every instinct to give her plump, cherry-colored mouth a good frenching. You had other plans to escalate your night together.

"Y-you're not gonna fuck my face, now, are you mr. Plumber?.." She says, knowing full well that that was always how these nights of lust begin.

"Fuck it? Naaah, I'm gonna paint it." You reposition, having her beneath your wide-spread legs. It was too much for you. The lingerie, the roleplay, everything. You didn't mind an early exit, you just knew that your cock is gonna start ripping your boxers if you don't take it out and jerk it until your sweet release.

"Noooo my boyfriend never paints my face. Please don't do it mr. Plumber, sir. Anything but that, I hate ittttt." with your knowledge of her preferences, you knew she kinda meant that. 'I guess I'm fulfilling two of hubby's fantasies tonight... but he better pay me back later' she thinks to herself.

She hears your wet cock being jerked just above her face. Wanting to encourage you to make her eat your dick instead, Eunbi extends her neck to reach your member with her mouth. She only manages to place small kiss on it, however. This makes her she gasp and break character "Oh my..... You're so hard that its throbbing so so thick, baby."

You didnt have time to reply, your prejac instantly jets out to warm Eunbi's face. Wanting to respond in a manner that's genuine to the roleplay, Eunbi sounds out 'distress' and 'no's', but at the same time.

You moan through your high and finish covering every inch of her face with white. Eunbi's tongue curls to your dripping cum to get a taste of your addicting cum, but

"You must have skipped the pineapple juice tonight, huh, hubby?" she breaks character yet again, but this time you pay no mind, you had your heart set on which hole to paint next.

"I hope you like missionary." You knew she liked it. Loved it, in fact. Her doubts wash away with how her heart skips a beat. Her giddiness skyrockets when you remove yourself from bed and position right between her tied up legs.

Hiking her panties to the side, you make quick work with clipping your fingers inside her cunt to search for her beloved pleasure spot. Once you find her rough spot, you double, triple, down on it. Even using your bicep to bring her to bliss as fast as you can.

Kwon wails at this point. Slowly breaking her voice to show you how much she's close.

"You remember how I got into my bondage kink?" you suddenly ask out of the blue

"Y-yeah... mmmmhnnngghhh" Eunbi's cunt was a freeflowing faucet of wetness at this point "Your friend-- fuckkk-- he told you all about it and-- and..." she loses herself in pleasure, so much so that she slurps the mixture of drool and cum weighing down near her chin. "And you've been into it ever since-- Tell him I said thank you."

With one hand you continue murdering her cunt, while another reached up towards the tits you love.

You knew exactly how she liked her chest being played with: Using your index and middle finger to play with her nipples. Similar to rubbing a clit. Exactly the same fashion you fondled her breast a few minutes ago. Such knowledge over this woman was how you knew that her contorted face wasn't one of pleasure, but of discomfort.

You were all the way hard again, in a position to penetrate her soon. This makes you feel excited —finally this honeymoon suite will see some real action. This idea couldn't help but excite you, turning your gentle massage into an eager peppering. Using your thumb and index finger, you pepper away at her nipple. You were amazed at their elasticity. Too amazed. You tug and tug to no end, wanting this night to never end.

“Oh my… mr. plumber, that's not how my boyfriend usually does it... ughhh..... fuckk.... you’re so different from him and… Fuck…. mr. plumber’s being so rough with my tits. My boyfriend... h-he loves to treat me soft, but youre doing such a better job” She said in the most unconvincing of tones.

"Oh my.. you're ruining my body mr plumber- ohh.. oh-okay... wait.. fuck... ZUCCHINI"

You were surprised, she uses her safe word. It was quite a while since she had used it, but you knew exactly what it meant, so you retract your hands.

"Aww but we were getting to the good part, little miss helpless girl."

"You can drop the fake voice... ah fuck.... that one was.... that one was a little too much, Paul" She finally states a name. After her confusing mixed usage of mr. Plumbers, babys, boyfriends, and hubbys, it was quite refreshing to finally hear her mouth produce a name. Eunbi was panting, and had sweat building up on her forehead. She was set on wanting to throw in the towel with fulfilling your fantasy.

"Help me take off my blindfold." She said.

Not wanting this to end, you place both hands on her chest to pleasure her nipples the right way "No... nngghhh, Paul, its not about my tits. You've been acting weird all nigh-" she was interrupted.

Eunbi feels an inch of your cock enter her, as should husband and wife on their wedding night. Fireworks go off in your head, feeling her perfectly primed pussy on her wedding night. You were stunned. At a loss for words. This was amazing, until Eunbi had to ruin it with grunts of pain.

"you're not Paul......" she asks with labored breaths, trying to accommodate your size

"Shhhh with how well I know your body so well, I might as well be-"

"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU???" Eunbi starts to squirm, trying to get you off. You give her the respect of seeing who you really are.

"Let's just say, Paul's had pretty loose lips recently."

"What the hell do you mean? Who the fuck are you?! GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME. PAAAAUL! PAAAUL, WHERE ARE-" you grab her cheeks with one hand, squishing them to make her stops.

"How the hell do you think I know how to touch you?"

"Paul put you up to this?" Eunbi had pleading eyes looking up at you.

"Well yes and no... In his defense he was just trying to brag about how much 'you melt from his touch'. With accompanying pics and videos, I might add. Your man sent one too many pictures that it wasn't hard to track you down. You'd be amazed by how easy it is to find things via reverse image search. From that point, its simple math. Tux + Wedding + some alcohol for good ol' Paul."

"Where's, Paul?" she said in an assertive voice

"Shhh, its not polite to talk about other people in bed. Don't worry, with how much I know about you, you might as well continue roleplaying."

"Untie me, you pig." she says

"Not a chance, cow" you grip her tits hard, making her nipples bugle out off the gaps of your fingers. With some micromovements, your skin teases her nubs of sensitivity, making her go still.

"You... you're the reason Paul suddenly wanted this out the blue..." she pieces together.

"Hey, Its not my fault he's such a copycat. But hey, I ain't complaining"

With a clear painting, Eunbi's brain fires off at every direction, feeling every emotion, and wielding rage like a steel hammer. Eunbi doesn't care if you tease her nipples anymore. With all her might she sways her body, powers her limbs, screams at the top of her lungs, everything she needs to get herself out of the ropes she put on herself. This made you unhand her and simply sit back.

"I don't see what the problem is. I know your body. Just pretend I'm the same size as your new husband's and it would be like I'm Paul-"

"You shut your mouth. Your cock is nowhere as big as Paul's." she bites back, not even bothering to take a gander at the snake between your legs before continuing her struggle.

It was quite a sight, the woman who left nothing for your imagination was squirming in vigor, producing a sight of nothing but pure sex. The way her tits sway and her pussy clenches was magnificent in and of itself.

With the lack of intervention from the outside world, it seems like Paul wisely paid extra for the soundproofed room. Easing the final worry of your crime.

You give Eunbi a chance, sitting down in between her legs and allowing her to walk out should she succeed in breaking free.

With a smile on your face, one of the reasons you loved bondage unfolds itself in front of you.

There was nothing more delicious than seeing the fighting spirit of a woman. Mustering what little ounce of hope they could, wishfully thinking that Yes. I can get out of this.

You thank the heavens for convincing Paul to opt for the premium ropes. They were certainly holding their own against the thrashing of a grown woman.

You palm Eunbi's pussy, making sure that each one of her struggles would cause her thick labia to grind agaisnt your hand.

"For someone who claims they wanna get free, you sure are grinding your pussy on my hand hard. Hahahaha" Eunbi has grown deaf and numb from your games. She only had one thing in her mind right now.

Your phone camera reads 30 minutes. Watching her go through the motions of anxiety and action has lost its charm. With a final attempt to break free, Eunbi flexes all her muscles to no avail. She drops her limbs, defeated.

You hear her huff and puff, probably exhausted from her hour long clenchings.

Having your fun, and having little to no action for yourself for the past half hour. You get back up on your knees and close your phone.

"Hey, A for effort." you said, laying flat on her body as you hug her, cusping her cheek and looking at her straight in the eye. The fury in them lights a fire under you. Your first attack shall be on her neck. Diving right in, you inhale her scent and mix her sweat with your saliva.

She smelled so good just earlier, but now she reeked of her natural musk. It was like her profuse sweating pushed all the fragrance out of her skin.

With how hard you pressed your face to her body, you could feel the pores on her skin. From her jaw to her armpit to the area around her boobs, you had to make sure you inhaled every essence of her porn body. Your exploration took you to every curve of her torso, every divot, every crevice, smelling the fear and pheromone that pierced through the lotion she wore for Paul tonight. Eunbi squeals to no end, graciously adding background music to your manic deed.

"Where are my manners" Your hand glides around her top, gathering spit and sweat. Well lubricated, you insert 3 fingers inside of her in an instant. Eunbi's body tenses up and makes your hear the beautiful sound of ropes tighten once more.

"You sick fuck" she says in a weak voice, obviously trying hard not to give you the satisfaction of her moans. You knew her body, so you knew how to touch her.

"They say that some rape victims often forget everything that happened to them due to the trauma. Here's to hoping you don't forget how good I am in bed." you laugh, as you continue to violate her birth hole.

After teasing her; bringing her to the edge and then stopping, edging and edging and edging, you decide that its time for your own pleasure.

'Missionary, her favorite.' You think back to Paul's notes, as you take position. “Now lets see just how deep I’ll get"

You lay your cock on her, your base rests on her entrance. while the cockhead all the way up, sizing up how far you'll reach. Eunbi’s eyes almost pop out upon looking down and seeing how the tip of your cock easily reached her tummy.

"Please... stop..." she said as you got off her and aim your cock on her leaking cunt.

"You should have told your husband that." You take your phone and show you all the pictures and videos that Paul had been sharing to you all this time. The delicious trust that he had for you was endearing. Or was it ignorance? Perhaps the anonymity made him think he was bulletproof.

Distracted from your phone, was the best time to pierce Kwon Eunbi, “Don’t worry. If it wont fit, then I’ll make it fit.” Applying pressure, Eunbi groans and starts to let you hear her weeping.

"Heey hey..." You comfort her pretty little head, wanting her to calm down before you say "Remember to open those legs wide for me, Eunbi. I’m not as big as your husband, remember?” you chuckle, a glint of mercy shows from your joke, one short-lived as your patience grows thin. You spread her legs yourself, so far off to the point of pain.

You wanted her to be tight, you wanted her pussy to grip your dick so hard that it could turn to diamond. But what Eunbi had in store for you? Was much. Much. Better.

Your cock laced with precum only had to push past her puffy labia. From then on, your cock was a key that perfectly fit the lock of Eunbi's pussy. Amused, you leave her pussy, and try entry again. Paul's woman weeps from this, again and again you repeat your actions, as if she were built for nothing but your amusement. Seeing her, you wipe her tears and give her a smile. With your cock withdrawn from her depths, you nod your head, as if asking a question. Eunbi shakes from left to right. You sigh and exit her tasty cunt. Looking like you were discouraged.

Such a ploy paved the way to seeing her fill up with hope and drain back out. You weren't letting go of this one. Eunbi's pussy has got to be one of the fattest pussies you’ve ever pounded. Her pussy was perfection. The little bend of your cock allowed you to grind your swollen cockhead to what little gap her filled pussy had left.

Eunbi started to ease her agitated expression. In fact, the both of you did. It felt Like Heaven for the both of you that you two had a couple of dumb, mindless faces.

"Heey, look who's here. Its your hubby~" you snap her out using another one of your ploys, a bait she gladly takes as her head flicks to the door.

Your free hand guides her head to face yours. “He's in front of you, silly~"

"No no, you're not-" you spit on her face

"Yes I am. Go ahead, call me hubby”

“n-no…” preparing to spit once more, you decide consent was nonsensical at this point.

“But wifey~" disregarding her disapproval, you go ahead and steal the moniker from their relationship “Its our honeymoon~”

She had nothing but eyes filled with fear and tears whilst staring up at you. You slow down your ravishing, eventually putting it to a halt.

From the moment your cock entered Eunbi, you've been noticing how much her volume increases whenever your cock kisses a certain part of her insides.

Face to face, you watch her react to your ace in the hole. Its not like your were jackhammering her. No. You simply pressed your cock hard on her special place. Same position, same angle, full sustained strength. You swear you could feel her wall bumping outwards with how much your cock was pressing on it.

Like a madwoman, Eunbi shouts with the entirety of her being. The escalation from calm to panic was exquisite, from her eyes shooting open to her screech pushing past her throat.

"NOT THERE! OH PLEASE DEAR FUCKING GOD NOT THERE!!!"

she screams lies past her teeth. Eunbi's reaction was so visceral. As if possessed, her body lifts off the bed, not mindful of her arms and legs secured. You graciously accompany her upwards, making sure to stay connected.

Her disgruntled moans were continuous, leaving a constant gap on her mouth. An invitation you gladly accept, sucking out both breath and spit; as if you needed anything more to remind you that you own her tonight.

Cock in. Mouth together. Your fingers reclaim its rightful plush throne atop her boobs.

Your core was about to give out with your current position, still applying pressure on her sweet spot. A few more swipes on her nipples were all it took for you to finally reap her sow. It looked cute, the way she orgasms. A muscle from the V lines of her hip spasms in and out. Your cock was compressed to no end when Kwon Eunbi's cream tries and tries to push your member out of her. Her condensed nectar engulfs her cunt and then your cock.

"Hu...bby....." Eunbi finally says, with her body still suspended mid-air. The line between love and hate fades, and along it, Eunbi's sanity. Nevermind the fact that she was calling for help, you choose to believe she's finally yours.

You guide her bum back to bed, seemingly necessary with how her face and body froze, and her pupils vibrate. After much consideration, you decide it was time to meet Eunbi in heaven. Your hips only had one goal: To resume fucking her. Thankfully, bucking your hips forward didn't make her squeal anymore. No whines nor moans were left. Just anguish 'love'.

It seems like she's finally broken 'warmed' up to you. Without restraint, you fuck her glorious pussy, still ladened with her own cum, bottoming out so hard that what little voice she had left couldn't be heard over the squeaking bedframe.

"Since Paul loves these so much. I'm gonna help them grow. Even. Bigger." You grip her tits. Grip. Truthfully, no word will ever do justice to the roughness your hands show her tits. Using them as handles, you chase after your orgasm. Wanting to finally pay back Paul for all the times he's sent you pictures of Eunbi, each one leading you to this moment. A gift that will reveal itself 9 months later. A gift that will make Eunbi's already-bountiful bosom blossom. The gift of life.

Lights almost go out as your virile cum pushes past her cunt and squirts straight into her womb. It was fireworks. The perfect punishment to Paul's mishap.

You lay in bed. Using one of Eunbi's meaty arms as your pillow. She was still tied up, but that didn't stop you from cuddling the woman as if she were yours. You look below, thankfully, hiking her panties as high up as the fabric can hold prevented your baby batter from leaking out.

You trace her belly, excited about how much larger it will be in a matter of months. Looking at her face devoid of emotion —no will to live whatsoever— you give her a kiss goodbye, and a rub on her head for doing a good job at being such a good toy for you tonight.

You leave, with your number on her phone, and her state a shriveled husk of a woman.

You pass by the room you had put Paul in before making sure he was drunk as all hell. It wasn't even locked. Bastard was just out of it.

You scoff. Walking a little taller as you think to yourself

'Fuck around and find out.'

Reason why I wrote this smut: For the Nth time, my close friend has bragged about his "catch of a girlfriend". I didn't think jerking off to his gf's pics (the ones that he himself sent) was enough of a punishment, so I wrote a fic about it too. As I'm writing this, I am intoxicated with the idea that everyone who jerked off to this fic is in a way jerking off to his girl 😋 Whenever I was stuck in this fic, I was totally thinking of how I'd fuck his girl.

Welp this certainly took a dark turn... I am honestly shocked at myself with how this one turned out. And I say "turned out" because this had a different draft and story line before I moved it over to Tumblr to polish it. I think the pressure of not wanting the storyline/ending to be same the as Doggy Cam's (where its revealed that the idol actually likes) got to me. Lol! But hey, at least I got noncon off the list now! Hoping to move on to a fluffy smut after this cause it was legit "...oof what did I write" for me by the end of this one 😅

[bugs1nmybrain]

Bipolar!Tomura x Reader

Warning: Bipolar Disorder (implied to be type 1), gender-neutral reader, angst, fluff, Shigaraki is mean to the reader, psychotic symptoms, substance use (weed and alcohol), short

note: Shigaraki refers to himself as "being bipolar." I'm aware this is pejorative language, but it made sense for the context of Shigaraki's condition in this story. I also have Bipolar Disorder for reference.

The TV was barely audible over the obnoxiously loud video game music and sound effects coming from Tomura's bedroom. It wasn't like he was ever quiet, but this loud? The neighbors might mistake you two for having a break-in. It definitely didn't help when Tomura would cuss out his screen.

"are you fucking KIDDING ME?! You SCUMBAG CHEAT FUCK!!"

You weren't unused to him talking shit to people on voicechat. It's just he was particularly erratic at the moment. You wanted to check in on him but you weren't sure if that was appropriate. The stabbing decibels would surely blast you away.

Suddenly, all the sounds stop, only leaving the sound of your ears faintly ringing from the absence. It was soon that you smelt..*sniff* .. pot. You hoped he had a fan going and you also wished he'd share. Tomura was already on it though. He opened the door to his room and zipped into the kitchen. With his joint still burning in his hand, he reached up into the cupboard to grab a glass and then a bottle of whiskey. Damn, maybe he should ask for some help?

You watched as he attempted to open the bottle, with his joint in his left hand. His quirk certainly was to be taken accounted for, and he knew it too, because he got too impatient and dusted away the cap, only for the disintegration to fall into the bottle.

"fuck," he said abruptly, but just decided to pour the alcohol in his glass, dust particles included.

"Tomu?" you questioned, watching him try to multitask putting the shit back while smoking his joint.

"Yea, I know, I'll share. Just hang'on."

"Can I help you?"

"Uh.." he spent a moment pondering as if it was a weighted decision. "Here, hold my joint."

You walked over to him and took it from his hands. You contemplated if you really wanted to smoke now, given his state. You knew early on that Tomura had a condition and this wasn't the first time you'd seen him manic. The fact that he wasn't on medication also meant that his episodes could get carried away, and he'd scare you. Not because he was scary...or maybe he was, but you knew it was because he had tripped into a heavy episode.

Tomura turned back to face you when he was done, noticing the joint burn down.

"Why aren't you smoking?" He asks. His tone was normal, though a little jumpy.

"I don't really wanna."

"Why? I don't like smoking by myself. Makes me feel like shit."

"You seem restless."

"Mm, how'd you guess?" He said with a blissfully agitated staring at you.

"Like..you're fast."

"I'm so speedy fast wanna watch me?"

"When's the last time you slept?"

Shigaraki paused and tried to sort through his recent memories but he was unsure. "Uh, maybe..five? Five days ago? I've probably had a nap or two though."

"Maybe we should calm down. Do you wanna watch a movie?"

"Why're you talking to me like a kid?"

"I'm not, I'm worr-"

"Yea I know that, I can tell it's all over your fucking face. Listen, I'm well aware I'm batshit crazy right now but I'm NOT some tragedy, alright?"

"I didn't mean it that way," you stood shaking, trying to fight back your eyes watering.

Tomura sighed seeing you standing scared in front of him. He'd been trying to be fine for weeks. Tomura was never "fine," but when he was paranoid, hyper, determined, and careless beyond proper function, it was a major hindrance. Impacted his goals, though he was great at brainstorming when he was manic.

"You meant it. I'm not even like, mad. I don't know why this happens though, you've seen it before, right?"

"I have. Tomura, can I say something without you getting pissed?"

"What?"

"I think you have Bipolar Disorder."

"Oh really? Turn in your psychiatric report because I'm sure I'm many other things too!"

Tomura huffs and plops down on the living room couch. His adoptive father never gave him access to anything like mental health treatment. AFO told Tomura himself that issues of this matter where only problems that could help his passion for destruction. But Tomura would even admit, being manic beyond belief was scary. He heard voices, saw things that weren't there, sometimes his family, and it was a total living nightmare.

You snuck up behind the couch and began playing with his hair gently. He let out a "hm?", confused considering he just raised his voice at you.

"I just say it because I notice patterns. Like you'll be motivated and nonstop for weeks and then super depressive and bummed out. And it repeats over and over. Usually within the same time frames, too. I'm not trying to insult you, but it might explain things, right?"

You ran your fingers through his scalp. It was definitely a while since his last shower, too. His hair was greasy and dry, but you kept touching him. You could feel him relax into your fingers and whine.

"Sounds like bullshit. I'm not taking any pills."

"I'm not telling you to."

"Well, are you leaving or something? Gonna punish me for being Bipolar?

"No. I want to help you."

"Ain't you some fucking hero."

"I mean it. I can tell you're overwhelmed and just need some sleep or something. I'm not mad Tomura, I never was, I just want you to be ok."

His shoulders began to tense and shake a little. He may have been tearing up but you didn't look and he sat silent.

"Can we order pizza and play Mario Kart, instead? I don't wanna just sit. I'm too awake."

"Yes, baby. I can make a pillow fort!"

"Fuck yessss. Um. I'm also really sorry for yelling at you that wasn't cool."

"I understand Tomu."

You ruffled his hair and kissed his head quick before bolting off to grab your phone but he pulled you down to his lap before you could escape! mwah-ha-ha!

"Stay here for a bit."

"You're trapping me!!" You protested.

"You want me to settle down? Then stay."

Tomura rested his head against yours and held you like you were a stuffed animal. Soon, you could feel his body relax and heard snoring. You turned to see Tomura finally sleeping, but decided to sit still and drift off with for the rest of the night.

[toomuchracket]

tan lines (flatmate!matty x reader smut)

part of summer75, alternatively known as "the 69 fic". bon appetit <3

the flat is suspiciously quiet when you get home.

usually, matty's making some sort of noise - singing, talking to himself, or playing while he writes - or listening to something, the TV or the radio or a record. if he's doing none of these things, the sound effects of whatever video game he's into at the moment are usually audible, assaulting your ears as soon as you step through the front door.

but today… nothing. well, nothing but the air con, providing a slight but welcome reprieve from the blistering heat outside.

“baby?” you shout down the hall, dropping your bag and kicking your shoes off. he's in the flat somewhere, because his car and house keys are still hanging from the tuning pegs on the old guitar head you stuck to the wall for that very purpose, but he doesn't reply. brow furrowed, you wander past the bathroom, knocking the door and opening it to find the room empty. “matty, where are you?”

your next port of call is the kitchen, which you do linger in despite its matty-less-ness, just long enough to down some of the apple juice stashed in the fridge. once the heat in your body is alleviated somewhat, you continue on into the living room, where it becomes immediately apparent that said alleviation was futile; matty's there, stretched out asleep on the sofa, softly-heaving chest illuminated by the sun.

and he's stark fucking naked.

heat floods your cheeks, slightly embarrassed to have stumbled upon him so exposed like this - when your brain remembers he's your boyfriend, though, the heat floods… elsewhere on your body, and before you know it your legs are carrying you towards the couch and settling in a kneeling position beside it. you rest your head on matty's thigh, as slowly as possible so you don't wake him, and look up towards his face. as he is in every facet of life, he's a pretty sleeper, long eyelashes lightly brushing his cheekbones and those beautiful lips open in a slight pout, and you're content to just adoringly watch him dream, heart fit to burst with how sweet he is and how much you love him.

and then he moves, shifting more onto his side towards the sun, and sweetness is the last thing on your mind.

whatever he's dreaming about - you hope it's you - has him half-hard, and it honest to god has your mouth watering. muscle memory, you think; one of your personal favourite mutual discoveries about matty in bed is how much he enjoys getting fully hard in your mouth before he fucks it, weaving his hands into your hair and groaning about how pretty you look sucking his dick, and looking at him right now is upping your desperation to recreate it all to an insane level.

yeah, you need to wake him up right now.

still on your knees, you shuffle up further towards that pretty face; one hand comes up to caress it, the side of your index finger satin-soft against matty's slightly stubbled cheek, while the other is poised right over his dick, ready to stroke when your boyfriend starts to stir. voice singsongy and little more than a whisper, you speak. “matty, baby, wake up.”

matty sniffs, eyebrows raising while his lids stay firmly closed. a noise of vague recognition rumbles in his chest, turning into a light moan when you tentatively drag your nails up the length of his cock - when you circle the tip with the pad of your index finger, smiling as you spread the pre-cum all over his head, matty's eyes flutter open with a satisfied hum. “hi, darling,” his voice is scratchy with sleep, and it's really fucking doing it for you. in contrast to the sexiness of his voice, though, his brow furrows cutely. “am i still dreaming?”

“no, sweetheart,” you giggle, leaning in to kiss him softly. “i'm real, see?”

he huffs out a laugh. “feels familiar,” he kisses you, groaning into your lips when you start to slowly wank him off properly. “fuck, feels good.”

“yeah?”

“yeah. thank you,” he beams, and your heart flutters. “what brought this treat on?”

you shrug. “came home to my incredibly hot, incredibly naked boyfriend, and i wanted to make him feel good. why are you naked, by the way, baby?”

“was - fuck, babe, just like that, yeah - was sunbathing, and i didn't want any tan lines,” matty blushes, smiling bashfully while you laugh. “s'pose i was just so content that i fell asleep.”

“and here was me thinking you were doing some new free-use sex thing for me.”

he groans. “don't give me any ideas, sweetheart, especially when you're dressed like that.”

“you like my work outfit?”

“you know i do.”

speeding your hand movement up the tiniest bit, you smile as sweetly as you can muster. “you wanna fuck me in it?”

“christ, you can't just say things like that to me, darling,” matty's hands come up to his face; he shakes his head before dragging them downwards, smiling exhaustedly at you. “s'like you want me to cum immediately.”

“i wouldn't be opposed,” to prove your point, you speed your hand up again, beaming at the whine that leaves matty's lips and the way his hips jerk up into your grasp. “but you have to answer my question first, sweet boy.”

he sighs, gulping before he talks. “wanna go down on you in it more than anything else right now.”

oh.

you hum happily. “shuffle down the couch a bit for me, then, please, sweetheart.”

matty looks confused, but does as you ask. “what for, babe?”

caressing his cheek again, you beam. “so i can sit on your face. if that's alright with you, of course, my love.”

he blinks repeatedly while you keep on beaming at him, trying to compute your words in his groggy brain; suddenly, his lips are on yours, kissing you with the same desperation he's always kissed you with, as if you're on the edge of slipping through his calloused figures like the sand in his sleepy eyes. “underwear off. now,” he mutters into you - then, a somewhat less gruff afterthought. “please, darling.”

“okay,” you oblige as you stand, leaving your (damp) thong in a puddle on the floor as you climb onto your boyfriend and the sofa. “fuck, this is tight.”

“oi, s’my line,” the smile is audible in matty's voice as he tugs you back towards his face.

you sigh, leaning down to take his dick in your hand again. “shut up, babe.”

“gladly.”

before you even have time to sarcastically thank him, your boyfriend's tongue slices through your soaked core. you gasp out some sort of shocked moan, a wanton sound that mutates into a whimper when his mouth finds your clit and sucks on the bundle of nerves; when you take his dick into your mouth, it's as much an act of keeping yourself grounded as it is an act of getting matty off. he groans into your cunt when you deepthroat him, and the sound makes you simultaneously hurtle towards your own climax and diligently focus on getting matty to his. unlike other times you've found yourself in this position with your boyfriend, though, there's no competition - just two people working as best they can to make their lover feel good.

however, if it was a contest, you would doubtless win; matty's hips are already jerking up sporadically, a primal instinct for friction so he can finish. despite the pleasure clouding your own brain, you focus enough to dig your manicured nails into his thigh to subdue him, and he obeys with a whimper directly on your clit. you have to hand it to him, though - even on the very precipice of orgasm, he's dead-set on getting you off, eating you like he hasn't had a meal in weeks and sending shockwaves of ecstasy through you. he pulls back, very briefly, just enough to warn you of what you already know is imminent. “babe, baby, fuck, m'gonna cum, m'gonna cum.”

you stay silent, diligent, aside from a soft hum around his dick and a slight smile; the vibrations from the noise are enough to set matty off, and he spurts into your mouth with a series of whimpers, hips continuing to fuck your throat as he rides out the last of the orgasm. eyes watering and mouth full of your boyfriend, you slide off him with a pop, swallowing his cum and gasping - half for air, half from the pleasure he's giving you now that his sole focus is to make you cum.

and he does just that, embarrassingly quickly for you, that fucking tongue of his making you shake and cry and see stars and soak his face with your release. actually, the orgasm is so strong that you honestly black out for a second - at least, you think you did, because how else would you have ended up curled into matty's chest so soon after cumming, his lips on your forehead and a hand in your hair?

regardless, that's where you find yourself, in the arms of the person who loves you most in the world, both of you spent and sated and so content. there's silence for a minute, save the sounds of east london through the open window and the two of you breathing in tandem, until matty looks down at you with a shit-eating grin on his pretty, soaked face. “so, babe… how was work?”

[sulumuns-dootah]

31. 10. Shower - Asmodeus

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⟡ Masterlist ⟡ 

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽Helltober '24☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

A/N: Here we are: A much needed shower for our stinky king. I kinda did forget to keep describing the shower, but everything is happening in a shower :D (The prompt for this bonus was decided by YOU through a poll ^^)

Warnings: Since there was a significant amount of people also voting for Consensual Non-con, i decided to include it too - sadly couldn't fit throne fucking in :/, Asmo uses 'bitch' to reffer to reader (I honestly think that's what devs meant to translate 'female' to)

    ༺☆༻

Finally, after a long day of spending time with almost all demons in Hell, you're alone and taking a scorching hot shower. The almost-boiling water droplets fall on your body and help you relax your sore muscles. It was a long day, but it's finally coming to an end.

If you had to guess, you'd say it's somewhere around midnight and you're just about ready to collapse into your bed and fall asleep in whatever position you happen to land. Hopefully the colder air outside your shower wakes you up enough to finish your whole night routine.

Maybe you can stay in the shower for just a little bit...Suddenly a chill runs up your spine and the hair on the back of your neck stands up. Huh..?

You still haven't moved an inch out of the shower and you're already cold?

No, this feels different. Almost like when Foras is around, but you're sure he's currently tending to Leviathan's nightly needs. No, this feels heavier, more overbearing than a noble.

Then... you hear the sound of bare feet and some rustling chains quietly making their way to you, back turned to the room and facing a wall.

Your fight or flight response kicks in and instead your body freezes. Maybe it's even for the best. There's water all over the place and you don't want to hurt yourself.

The intruder is so close and you hold your breath, waiting for anything.

But for the longest time nothing comes. No sound or shift in energy.

“Huhu, I love the smell of your fear, little bitch.” you jump as a mischievous whisper interrupts the agonising silence, followed by a very audible sniff. Your mind immediately jumps to Beelzebub, but the voice is way too different to be him.

The thoughts in your mind are racing, trying to figure out who this demon is, but they're coming up empty. Who is this demon and what does he plan with you?

Suddenly, two large hands find their place on your body with some more metal sounds. One pushes your torso against the tiled wall and the other pulls your hips backwards for you to feel the huge, throbbing dick, ready to impale you.

A cry leaves your lips at the sudden action as well as the sensation of being pushed up against the cold surface. Finally, your fighting response kicks in and you start to try and struggle, but it's to no avail. The unknown demon's grip on you is too strong.

“Haa~, you really know how to make things more exciting, Y/N!” the impressively long length starts being rubbed on your backside. The adrenaline, still coursing through your body makes your legs shake and your knees almost give out on you.

“Mmh~... Your fear feels very much real. Did you forget about our little talk from earlier this month?” the demon chuckles out and his hand moves from your torso to entwine in your hair.

You gasp out. From the slight pain, but also from realisation.

“A-asmo?!”

Now it makes sense. Earlier in the month you've found yourself in Abaddon and met Asmodeus for the first time. You two had a somewhat long conversation about sex, kinks and such. At one point the king of lust asked you if there was something you'd like to try but were too afraid to admit to anyone. After some encouragement, you ended up confessing that consensual rape was something that intrigued you.

You completely forgot about that conversation during your very busy month.

“Ahah... So you do remember!” Asmo doesn't waste any moment and draws a sigil on your lower belly. The lines immediately start burning, until your whole body is heated in different way than it was from your shower.

The demon king keeps rubbing against you, to which now you're more than responsive in your magically aroused state, “A-ah fuck~!”

“Huhuhu, as you wish, my pretty little bitch.” Asmodeus chuckles and swiftly enters your awaiting heat. The sigil working its magic helps you fully take him in without any problem, like you've been already going for a few rounds.

Instantly picking up a fast pace, your walls tighten around him, making your first orgasm approach much faster than you'd even like to.

“So~ how do you like your first dream fulfilled? There's much more to come, huhu!”

Oh. That's right. This was only one of your secret fantasies.

Fuck.