#It doesn’t feel like your pulling shit out of your ass????

[deadhands69]

Laundry Detergent

MDNI

loser!Shigaraki x reader

One last fic for the year! Happy New Years!!

Contains: gn reader/maybe afab if you squint, cussing, pacifying loser/sub!shigaraki by sitting on his lap/teasing him, light choking, male orgasm.

Shigaraki has been in a mood lately, which means the whole league is miserable. After the last failed mission, he’s been taking it out on everyone and everything for a week now. Between his snide comments and sulking, you’ve all had enough of it.

It was all your fault, really. Or so he decided. If you hadn’t worn that scent he liked, it would have been fine. You know, the one he would kill for. The one that makes him want to drop down on his knees for you and beg you to touch him. 

‘My laundry detergent?’ you once asked. 

Yeah, that. Or whatever. In any case, it drives him crazy and it’s definitely your fault the mission wasn't going as planned.

The idea was easy, or it should have been if he didn’t have a massive erection stealing the blood from his brain the entire time. All he had to do was decay four city blocks. He only made it through two before running off and ducking away somewhere private to deal with something. Leaving the rest of you to handle his task and your own.

He wouldn’t admit that part in front of everyone else (or to you) but the passive aggression continued to linger through the week.

After the last meeting abruptly ends with him rage quitting, you’re left in a room of your coworkers (if you could call them that.) They all stare at you.

“What the fuck am I supposed to do,” you assert, “he’s the one who blew the mission now he’s pissed at all of us.”

“I don’t know, fix it,” Dabi snaps before walking out.

Everyone shuffles back to their own spaces, in varying levels of anger. On top of this, no one has been sleeping well lately because Tomura keeps you up all night barking at his video game and slamming the controller on his desk every time he dies. Which is often. 

It really has been getting to you all.

Later that evening, you’re walking past his room. The muffled sound of him grumbling at his most recent death radiates through the wall. And, like clockwork you hear the controller crack as he quits for the next five minutes to pace around his room in anger.

This has gone on for too long, you need to fix this.

“Shigaraki?” you try knocking.

No answer. Of course.

“Tomura,” you shove the door open, slamming it behind you. 

“What the fuck, [y/n] get out of my room.”

“Not until you calm down, you’re making everyone miserable.”

It’s true and he knows it. He doesn’t have anything to say in defense so he settles for dropping back onto his chair, crossing his arms, and glaring at you. 

Even when he’s like this, you get the feeling he would do anything you say.

“Do you want to tell me why you’re still in such a shit mood?” you ask, bridging the gap between the two of you to where your knees nearly touch his as you stand above him.

“No,” he grumbles, eyes shifted down. He adjusts his sweatpants in a way he thinks is inconspicuous, but of course you notice it. 

In response, you slide your hoodie off. Lightly grabbing the hem with both hands while you slowly tease it over your head and throw it on his bed. The fresh laundered scent drifting towards his face. 

“What are you doing?” he asks, looking increasingly flustered.

Leaning forward, you whisper in his ear, “keep your hands on the armrests.” 

“Huh?” He stares up at you, eyes filled with confusion and nerves.

The same eyes widen immediately when you sit on his lap. Twisting your torso to press his face into your chest. 

You feel the drool of his lips as he gasps into the skin above your low-cut tank top. His chin nestled lower while he takes huge breaths. Inhaling the scent of you. His erection pressing into your ass as he tries desperately to hold his hips still. He’s not even trying to hide it anymore.

He could probably cum right now, but you have ulterior motives. You pull back and watch as his pretty lips quiver at the loss.

“Are you going to be a good boy and calm down?” you ask, index finger and thumb pinching his chin to force his face up towards you.

“Uhnhuuh,” he moans.

“You sure?”

“Yes,” he chokes out, “yeah. Anything.”

“Good,” you reply. “I’m not fucking you,” you say, then more quietly whisper, “at least not today.”

“Wait, you w- aahhhh”, he moans as you slide your hips back into the painfully hard bulge he tucked into his waistband. 

Your hand slides down his chin to the soft skin on his neck. Grabbing tighter than polite, but you know he loves it by the way he squirms under you. His hips jutting up into your ass involuntarily. 

Licking your lips, you twist your face to his. Mouth only millimeters from his and there’s nothing he can do but whimper.

Shifting your weight, you rub against him again. This time he gasps and grips his chair so tight you worry he might decay it. While he catches his breath under you, you watch the wet stain creep through his thin t-shirt. 

That was fast.

Smoothly, you climb off his lap and head for the door with one last glance over your shoulder to admire the mess you made. Shigaraki is so fucked out his eyes struggle to stay open. Hands still dangling over the edge of the armrest. You did good, you think as you head back to your room to lay in bed. The whole place is quiet. Everyone in the league really owes you for that one.

Ten minutes later, your eyes shoot open.

Fuck, you forgot your favorite hoodie.

m.list

[aloesarchives]

Domestic Headcanons w/ Mama!Reader and the Fushiguros #2.5: Teen!Mayumi (OC)

TW/Warnings: Domesticity, AFAB/Female Reader, Family life, unhinged crack, JJK OC(but not main x Reader), tons of swearing, Mayumi is truly a Gen Z kid

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader

Pronouns/Usage: She/Her, Mama/Mom

So, it's been awhile since I've actually posted anything. College, projects, life in general fuck my ass up frfr. On top of that, I got really bad writer's block and being burnt out. I've been spending time with family and friends and it's been giving me motivation to write again. So I'm trying to finish my long wips before my winter break ends!

I also made reference pics of Mayumi for anyone who's curious on what she would look like. These pics of Mayumi were based on my appearance since she's an self-insert combination of me and Toji lol. I had to work with what I got to visualize her. If you has questions or wanna ask more about her, feel free to drop an ask in my inbox!

(Credits to the creators of the photo generators from Piccrew and Storior. I didn't create the generators but used them to create these pics)

Preteen!Mayumi:

Teen/Highschool!Mayumi:

Mayumi wasn’t a menace or a problematic child. Nothing was too extreme that required strict parenting. As she grows up, she’s not as rebellious as you imagined. She only talks back to Toji, never you. But even then, she’s setting her boundaries up and setting herself up. 

She’s in her own little world, doing her own thing. A go-getter if you will.

Only taking after the green eyes of your hubby, she is a mini version of you through and through. Performing well and evolving into an academic weapon of mass destruction. School has never been an issue for her or will be in the future. She is a competitive person at heart but stays humble as much as she can. She most definitely does Kendo, Kyūdō, and Karuta. You and Toji always go to her competitions. She’s always on the podium in first place. She’s only good because Toji’s the only one who has the physical prowess to match. And Toji doesn’t go easy on her during their training. But your daughter is grateful that her Papa supports her interests and wants her to succeed, which proves your point that you made the right choice in choosing a husband and father for your children.

But Mayumi in her teen years, she turns a complete 180 and becomes a mini Toji. A menace. 

She isn’t a bully nor picks on others. It’s the other way around, she is fully beefing with egotistical kids that think they’re all that and can do anything. Her reasoning is quite interesting because she’s trying to show them that the stuff they pulled off wouldn’t slide in the real world. She’s helping them out because the stuff they pulled can be digging their own graves if they mess with the wrong people. The bullies jump her off-school grounds and after school hours, too bad it leads them to either having a bruised complex, pride, or straight up CTE.

She never fought in school, no never. That's after-school activities for her. Even if that were to happen and you and Toji had to be called down, the only thing that matters to Toji is whether or not Mayumi won. But the answer is always the same, which is yes. That’s you as well but you had to be the reasonable parent in the situation. If any of the parents of the bullies trifle with you, you can pull your connection cards on them and it shuts them up good.

“Oh, you think your threats scare me? Bold of you to assume I could feel shaken by someone like you. It’s not like your company violated several labor and wage laws, or your money embezzlement affairs? Hm?”

Once she got to high school at Jujutsu Tech, no one wanted to shit on her because they all know they’ll get boxed up by her after hearing the things she’s done to people that tried her.

She never explained how she controls her impulses. She credits her strong will power but you remember your husband is Toji. And with that, you know her sudden urges to do something reckless/impulsive are watched under the supervision of her father. You know this because one day you saw her long jump over the koi pond in the backyard of your home. She cleared it with perfect form and footing. You’re dead when Toji starts teaching her optimal forms and techniques so she could have a higher vertical and be nimble in the air like he is. 

She isn’t a trouble-maker. She’s not as reckless or impulsive like others around her age. You ask her why she doesn’t participate in day adventures or nightly escapades. She said most of her friends have curfews and can’t be out late. All of them have different routines so it’s hard to find time to hangout on the weekends. Mayumi also said she doesn’t know what’s lurking at night and wants nothing to do with it. And She knows Toji will know whether she snuck out at night. But she doesn’t want to cause you and Toji any trouble so she either doesn’t get into trouble at all or does but it’s a situation she knows she can easily handle herself.

She is a certified Zen’in hater and the most vocal about it too. She really doesn’t acknowledge that half of herself and purposely avoids talking about them in a familial matter. 

She is definitely stealing Toji’s old clothes and adding them to her wardrobe. The jackets he doesn’t wear anymore? She stole them and is a part of her wardrobe. She says she is repurposing them when she really wants them. 

Most of her teen years were filled with K-pop, her aesthetic is Y2K for sure. The staples of her closet are cargo pants, those long retro denim skirts, oversized t-shirts and jackets.

Because Shui sometimes visits Korea for business, Mayumi is always asking him for a TWICE, New Jeans, or BTS vinyls. She gets him all three in her room on display and plays them when she wants to chill out in her room.

Mayumi likes to spend time with Maki, Mai, and Nobara. Trains with Maki alongside Toji. No wonder Mayumi is so good at fighting. She was literally taught by PEAK.

The sibling banter, oh my god. “Mom, get this Emo kid off his ass and tell him I need him to come with me to watch a movie!” “Why me? Can’t you ask Tsumiki or your friends?” “Ugh, because my friends are busy and Tsumiki-Nii won't come home until after her club. Plus, you’re not doing anything right now and today’s our weekly sibling bonding time!” Megumi groans and grumbles before getting up off the couch and grabbing his wallet. Or her saying, “Gumi-Nii, this is why you got no maidens” when Megumi told her to leave him alone when she went into his room to bother him. 

Megumi has to deal with her as he is the main victim of her antics. Getting teased and roasted endlessly. He knows everyone's footsteps and knows who coming. That's only because he needed to recognize when Mayumi is coming and needs to mentally prepare himself when interacting with her. This is what happens when Mayumi got your looks but Toji's personality.

Begs Megumi to bring out his shikigamis so she can take pictures of/with them. Putting silly accessories on them like bows and hair clips. She puts hats on his divine dogs or take pictures of them at funny angles.

Don’t get me started on her inheriting Toji’s shit talking and banter. Her snide remarks and roasts are creative and out of worldly that Toji takes mental notes. Prime example, upon learning Toji and Satoru’s “shared past”, her insult library grew. “Dad, I don’t wanna hear anything from you! I’m talking to the same man who had beef with a bunch of high schoolers because his pockets were itching!” Turns to you “Can’t believe you looked at this and thought, ‘Oh, I’m definitely gonna make him my husband and the father of my future kids.’” You raised an eyebrow at her when you looked up from your laptop, “Mayumi, Dearest, you can’t be saying that. If I never gave that man a chance, you, Megumi, and Tsumiki wouldn’t exist. Besides, if it wasn’t for me, your Papa would be seeing a Michael Jackson concert or be at a Tupac meet and greet right now.” On second thought, maybe she got the shit talking from you too.

Continuing on the previous thought, Mayumi will say the most out of pocket, unhinged, crazy type of insults and curses you will ever hear. A prime example of this was during the Tokyo-Kyoto exchange event in Mayumi’s first year Jujutsu Tech. It was a 1v1 tournament between the Kyoto and Tokyo students. Mayumi’s opponent happened to be a third year student from the Zen’in clan. As you were watching from the sidelines with Toji, you couldn't help but notice Mayumi’s expression. She was locked in and basically mean-mugging them. Any and all insults were brushed off and unfazed. As she expected, your daughter knew her distant relative would pick her a part for being a celestial restricted user and not having any curse energy. As the fight went on, Mayumi was getting annoyed. Not because her opponent was hard, oh no not that. She was annoyed by the fact her opponent was all bark and no bite. Like her opponent was legit trying but it wasn’t enough for her. She could’ve easily ended the match, Toji and you knew that from the start, but she wanted to hold out in case her fight would get interesting. Alas, it didn’t and Mayumi was disappointed as hell. As she would put it, she’s related to frauds. Her opponent was yapping away with the classic “You got lucky” and “this isn’t my full power” shit. Now she’s just getting mad that her opponent was absolute garbage. Her opponent said something that you couldn’t quite make out, but Toji did as he let out a huff. You guessed it set off Mayumi because she stared them with the iconic Toji glare, clenched fists and teeth, and said “Choke on my dad’s dick and get pegged by my mom, you damn fraud!” Then proceeds to give that Zen’in the most devious combo imaginable, it connected so well it would be a perfect score in any fighting game. The fight was over with the obvious winner being Mayumi. But you and Toji, stunned for a solid five seconds before bursting out in laughter. For as vulgar and out of pocket your daughter was for saying that, it was creative. Toji even had tears in his eyes because he was dying of laughter but also how proud he was of Mayumi. That combo was crispy and only his daughter could do something like that.

She is so much like Toji that when she was fighting a Zen’in member(s) (99% Naoya), she locked in and did a pose. She had this look in her eyes and her grin was done in a way that’s almost primal. Then everything clicks and she’s giving them flashbacks because she’s giving TOJI AURA. She’s reminding them of Toji and piecing them up like her Pops. As Mayumi likes to put it, she’s running it back to her papa. The get back on the Zen’in clan for Toji. And she fucking delivers, ate that shit up and left no crumbs behind. She’s infamously known to be compared to Toji in the Jujutsu world but she wears that shit with pride and honor. “Disrespect my papa, then I’ll give you guys that generational fade that even your descendants will feel the secondhand embarrassment that you’re their ancestors. Straight up Frauds.”

Forces Toji to take selfies with her. Just a teenage daughter dragging her dad around. She’s just a girl, your dearest daughter, just dragging your 6’1 boulder of a husband around. Doing those drink dates and posting them. 

Okay, in my Modern/Toji Lives Au, since Shui doesn’t dip out and go under the radar he has a presence in the kids' lives. Every Time he’s over, he and Toji are yapping away at each other. Every time Mayumi is about to go out, she stops by and greets Shui and Toji before leaving. Usually she would be out the door when she has to go somewhere but there’s always a five minute gap. Turns out, she waits for Shui to give her cash and leaves with at least  29,000 Yen(close to $200 US). Watching this unfold is sometimes jarring because your husband and his friend at one point in time wretched havoc in the Jujutsu/underground world. Now, they’re just two older guys, chilling on the engawa of your home, and having a drink.

Mayumi is running Satoru’s pockets. Gifts, money, anything you name it, he’s getting her something. Satoru told you that as the unofficial oldest child and brother, it’s his job to get gifts and provide some financial incentive to his younger siblings. Since this is voluntary for Satoru, Mayumi is taking full advantage of it. When Mayumi got to that age, Satoru even offered to pay for schooling if she wanted to go to college/university or study abroad. Toji felt a bit insulted with how Satoru was casually flexing his wealth right in front of him. But Toji being the guy with an eye for better deals, he’ll silently let Satoru spurge on Mayumi if it meant he didn’t have to spend a single dime on her.

Ends up having a popular social media presence because she went viral from a post that had you and Toji in it. It was caption with something like "I want what they have/ Why my standards in love are so high" and it's you and Toji doing domestic stuff with Toji having this loving look on his face and you giving him a soft tender expression.

She doesn’t take her account seriously and just posts fun stuff or things for shits and giggles. Probably makes Toji do trends with her or takes videos of him doing mundane things around the house that got netizens foaming at the mouth. Then netizens start foaming at the mouth and become rebid when they find out about you. Doing a mom reveal and people were asking in the comments your skincare/makeup routine, making barking noises, etc. Then she does a family reveal where she includes Megumi and Tsumiki and people say the most unhinged things.

“You guys need a table? I can be a table for you guys”

“If yall need a chair, I’m the best chair to sit on. I can hold everyone.”

“Bro, please, save some for the rest of us! Like, let me have a fighting chance! Please!”

It gets worse when she posts a picture or video of her hanging out with Satoru, Suguru, or Nanami.

When Mayumi reveals both you and Toji’s ages, she did a video of your secrets while you say something sweet and practical like family and dropping your skincare routine then there’s Toji’s portion of the video. Toji just says: “My wife” and that’s it, does not elaborate on it. When Mayumi presses on, Toji responds “Your mom, Mayumi. I mean, do I need to say anything else because I legit got nothing else, Sweetheart.”

She does those livestreams to answer questions, you sometimes watch them when you’re away from home. They make you feel better and you do get a laugh out of them. 

Mayumi doing a livestream: “How old is my dad–? Too old for you all! And he’s married! shows a picture of you in the livestream Married! He’s taken! So stay away from my father! Stay away from my father, guys!”

Did a livestream with you and Toji and the amount of time Mayumi had to chastise Toji because the stuff he says will get her banned is hilarious and you are just watching the carnegie unfold right before you.

She did one livestream with her friends doing the hear me out challenge. And one of them pulled out Toji’s picture and put it on the brownie cake. Mayumi: “gasps! That’s my dad! Why the hell did you guys put my dad in!?” It gets worse when her other friend puts a picture of you in there too. Everyone was laughing while Mayumi was straight up flustered and stressed. Poor girl, she doesn’t need to be reminded that everyone wants to bang her parents.

Mayumi begged you to do that trend where daughters put their mothers in their style/clothes. That post was a hit but Toji wasn’t home for that. So when she made a post of Toji’s reaction to the post where you’re wearing Mayumi’s Y2K clothing, it was a hit too. That’s because as Mayumi sends him the post and he watches the post on his phone, Toji watches the video before looking up at Mayumi, with her phone pointed at him, and saying, “You want a younger sibling, Mayumi?” And she lets out a scream that was perfectly cut at the end of the video. 

Toji definitely spends the most time with her, they are very close to each other. They vibe on another level that you know you can’t even get. You’re aware she confides about anything and everything to you but always goes to Toji first since he’s more empathetic of her situations and what she goes through.

She’s the extrovert of the family (if you weren’t already one) but spending time and being near her is fun and entertaining. Mayumi is the apple to everyone’s eye but knows when to be strong and stand ten toes when she needs to be. She’s still a kind, considerate, and compassionate person. She’s just more outspoken now that she’s a teenager and she’ll stand on that. She’s a wonderful mix of you and Toji and is a certified Gen Z kid who loves her parents and siblings.

Taglist:

@luqueam @ploylulla @tqd4455 @wolywolymoley @captainbabybear @ravenswife @tqd4455 @k-kkiana

Taglist(w/o links):

@szillx @SleppyAnn @g0th1xac1d @kneelarhmstrung

[hearts4pearlescentmoon]

Bro is trying so hard to be Stanford Pines

[kurooh]

FILL ME UP ! — BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA

⊹₊˚. he thinks you look so pretty with his cum dripping from your pussy.

⟡ feat. aged up! midoriya izuku, bakugō katsuki, kirishima eijirou, dabi, takami keigo.

⟡ warnings: 18+ content (mdni), f! reader, breeding, mentions of pregnancy, unprotected sex, oral [f receiving], cum eating.

⟡ xoxo, juno: i’m sorry this is so short ): the past 72 hours have been horrible hahah

— MIDORIYA IZUKU.

unsurprisingly, he wants to get you pregnant someday; he cums the hardest whenever he thinks about filling you up with his cum and picturing your swollen belly.

“ah, baby, i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum— fuck! where do you want it?” izuku stutters, hips jerking wildly as pleasure zaps through him like lightning.

“inside, ‘zuku..”

“a-are you sure?” his voice rises in surprise and he doesn’t know where to put his hands when you thrust your ass into his pelvis. your eyes are hooded when you turn, tossing him a look over your shoulder that has him spilling inside of you with a desperate whine.

izuku cums so much that it starts to run down the length of his cock, so he collects the excess on his fingers before rubbing his sticky fingers against your clit.

you moan lowly, “fuck it deep, izu.”

with a shaky nod and a tight grip on your hips, he complies, thrusting into you hard. despite having cum already, he feels his cock throb, eager to fill you up again.

“can i cum again, please? need to fill you up!”

— BAKUGŌ KATSUKI.

he fills you up because he has a possession kink.. in his mind, cumming inside you makes you his. he’ll take photos/videos of you dripping with his cum and jerk off to it later.

“s-shit, your pussy’s so fuckin’ tight,” katsuki grits out, pressing into the backs of your thighs to make the mating press a little closer. your ankles rest on his shoulders, feet dangling, gold anklet with a ‘k’ he gave you catching the afternoon light through the window.

you grin up to him, before pleasure washes over your whole body and your face falls as you moan. “go ahead and fill it up, kat.. i need it so badly.”

“shit, you’re not on the pill.” crimson eyes are full of worry and thoughtfulness.

“i don’t fucking care,” you groan, your eyes rolling back when the tip of his cock presses deep inside you, in just the right place.

katsuki doesn’t doubt you, or object — after all, he wants to fill you up. but why are his balls clenching at your words, his cock spilling cum deep inside you so quickly?

you feel his cock tighten inside you before heat is gushing all over you, sending you right into your own orgasm. he pulls back to stare, watching wide eyed as his cum drips out of your fluttering hole.

“fuck, you’re so good. i’ll never be able to pull out again, god.”

— KIRISHIMA EIJIROU.

he loves to make you as messy as possible, and then he’ll lick it all up.

“mmmh, ‘m still sensitive eiji..” your words come out as a soft mewl as your boyfriend spreads your legs open eagerly.

“wanna taste,” eijirou mumbles, eyes hooded as he notices your hole clench on nothing as he licks smeared cum off your thigh. “i also wanna make you cum again, yeah?”

“y-yeah,” you stutter when he drags his tongue along the sides of your pussy, collecting your squirt and his own cum on his tongue. eijirou swallows, kissing your clit with a quiet moan before he’s licking a stripe between your folds.

when he hears you whimper at the light touch, he fights off a smile and dips his tongue inside you easily. he tastes the bitterness of his own cum and the sweetness of your slick, and lets out a groan as his cock throbs against the bed beneath him.

“god.. ‘s good.” he doesn’t hesitate to pull back, pressing his tongue flat against your clit. then he slides his fingers into you, looking up at you eagerly. eijirou’s eyes meet yours, and he grins at just how shy you look.

“don’t worry baby, i’m gonna make you squirt again, yeah? focus on me.”

— DABI [TODOROKI TŌYA].

whenever tōya’s feeling jealous, he fills you up and makes you cry.. sometimes he likes to fuck you on top of a building or in an alleyway during pro-hero hawks’ patrols.

“you gotta scream for me, doll,” tōya hisses before biting into your shoulder while his grip on your neck gets tighter.

face burning with horniness and head spinning, you let out a long whine, and it echoes in the secluded alleyway. “fill me up and make me yours, tōya!”

he ignores the rustle of feathers from above, and only fucks into you harder. a thin sheen of sweat gleams on the darkened skin of his chest, the staples shining even more in the light.

tōya thinks you look beautiful like this, back against the wall and oh so pliant — letting him bounce you on his cock, or fuck your hole until all you can slur out is his name.

“louder. let the whole city know who’s fuckin’ you, doll.”

— TAKAMI KEIGO.

though he’s human, his bird-like quirk influences so much about him, such as his food choices, interests, and the way he likes to fuck.

vermillion wings rustle beneath you as you ride keigo’s cock into oblivion. his head is thrown back, golden tufts spread out on the car seat around it; above, your holding down both of his wrists tightly.

“lemme touch you, dove, come onnn.”

“no,” you gasp after a particularly deep stroke, “you’re just g-gonna bounce me up ‘nd down, and i want to ride you.”

your eyes close tightly as you languidly drag yourself up and down, pussy squeezing him so tight he feels like he’s about to burst. slowly, he feels himself thicken, approaching his high.

it’s as if a switch is flipped.

without even holding your hips and waist, keigo slams his hips upwards into you, stretching out your pussy almost mercilessly.

“keigo! that’s not— fuck!” your voice breaks off into a gasp, tits bouncing as he fucks you hard.

“g-gotta fill you up, dove.” his golden eyes are dark, swirling with some kind of breeding instinct. his wings are fluttering now, beating the air so strongly that goosebumps rise on your skin.

keigo’s entire body lurches beneath you as he chokes out a groan, “nghhh— i’m cumming, shit..”

his cock spills inside of you, effectively filling you up. however, he makes no move to pull out. when you start to sit up, he stops you.

“mm mm. let’s let it sit for a while, ‘nd i’ll stay inside, alright?”

[rafestify]

need a rafe fic please where reader is part of the pogues, her and rafe have been on and off for forever obviously due to everything he’s done but deep down he’s so down bad for reader and maybe she’s pregnant instead of sarah and he doesn’t find out until morocco because the pogues are hovering over her idk angst fluff whatever you feel!!!

Two lines — Rafe Cameron

Summary : Fem!Reader is pregnant with Rafe’s baby, but he doesn't know until pope accidentally mentions her baby (season 4 ep 10 spoilers!! ⚠️)

Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

Warnings : mentions of vomiting & language (english is not my first language)

A/N : as requested 😉 hope u like it anon!

Two lines, and the father was long gone, off doing god knows what. Rafe was the last guy I'd hooked up with, and even after we broke up, we somehow kept finding our way back to each other, especially after the Kildare Enduro. He knew no one else could satisfy me the way he did, and so it became this endless cycle, break up, hook up, make up. What Rafe didn’t know was that I was pregnant. I hadn’t planned on telling him, at least not until we made up.

There I was, back on Rafe’s boat with my friends, setting off to Morocco in search of the Blue Crown and Chandler Groff. My friends had locked Rafe up, tying him up in a small room, just in case. We all knew better than to trust Rafe Cameron, not after everything he’d done.

I walked into the dimly lit room, carrying a tray with a glass of water, a plate of food, and a couple of aspirin for his black eye. The sight of him, bruised, tugged at something deep inside me.

“Here,” I murmured, setting the tray down on the table beside him. “I brought some aspirin, just in case you’re feeling dizzy or something…”

He snorted, cutting me off. “What? You’re just gonna throw it in my mouth like I’m a fuckin' seal?” He wasn’t exactly wrong, but his sharp tone made me bristle. “Nobody trusts you, Rafe,” I replied, my voice steady. “Not after what you did.”

His jaw tightened, and a flash of anger sparked in his eyes. “I saved your asses!” he shot back, his face flushing with frustration. “And not even a thank you was said.”

I took a slow breath, steadying myself. “I know, Rafe. I know,” I said softly. “Thank you, really.” I offered him a small, sincere smile.

He looked at me for a moment, his gaze softening just slightly. “You trust me, right?” he asked, his voice quieter, a bit more vulnerable. I bit down on my lip, feeling the pull he always seemed to have on me.

“Yeah,” I admitted, almost reluctantly. God, he knew exactly how to get to me.

He looked at the ropes binding his wrists and nodded toward them. “Then untie me. Get this shit off me.”

I shook my head, feeling a pang of guilt but holding my ground. “I can’t. I’m sorry.” I pressed my lips together, trying to keep my resolve. “Just… eat the food. We wouldn’t want you dying in here.” With that, I turned and walked out, the door closing softly behind me, leaving me with a sigh that I didn’t even realize I’d been holding back.

As I stepped out of the room, I was met by Kiara’s anxious expression, her arms folded tightly as she waited. The moment she saw me, her face softened slightly, though worry still flickered in her eyes.

"How’d it go?" she asked quietly, as if afraid to hear the answer.

I shrugged, trying to mask the mixture of emotions stirring inside me. "Same old Rafe," I replied, keeping my tone light, but my gaze drifted, unable to meet hers directly.

Kiara studied me for a moment before speaking again. "Soo... did you tell him?"

I frowned, genuinely puzzled. "Tell him what?"

She raised an eyebrow, giving me a pointed look. "That you’re pregnant, with his child."

Oh, right. That one.

I swallowed, feeling a sudden knot in my stomach. "Uh—no, not yet," I admitted, my voice barely a whisper. "I just… I don’t know how he’d react." My hands found each other, my fingers nervously fidgeting as I tried to imagine how that conversation would even go. "What if he doesn’t want to keep the baby?"

Kiara sighed softly and reached out, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder. Her warmth grounded me, pulling me back from my spiraling thoughts. "Look," she said firmly, her gaze locking onto mine. "You have us. We’ll help you through every single part of this. That’s what friends are for, right?"

I looked at her, the tension in my chest easing slightly. Her words held a strength that I so desperately needed. "Yeah," I whispered, a small smile breaking through my worry. "Thank you, Kie."

She wrapped her arms around me, pulling me into a hug, and for a moment, the uncertainty and fear faded. In her embrace, I felt a flicker of hope—a reminder that I wouldn’t have to face this alone.

After battling fierce winds and waves, we finally arrived in Essaouira. The coastal city spread before us, its whitewashed buildings with blue shutters gleaming under softened storm light. Narrow streets twisted through the medina, lined with shops selling handmade crafts and drenched in a timeless, rustic charm.

The Atlantic crashed against the ancient medina walls, sturdy and weathered, while blue fishing boats bobbed in the harbor—just like the skiffs in the Outer Banks. The salty air and easy warmth of the locals, the slow rhythm of the sea, and the hum of daily life brought back memories of home, as if Essaouira was a Moroccan echo of the Outer Banks.

We continued to wander through the narrow streets of Essaouira, the sound of bustling market vendors and the distant call of seagulls filling the air. John B and Sarah led the way, their steps light and carefree, like they had no care in the world. Following behind them was Cleo, Pope, and Kiara, their conversations flowing easily as they walked, with JJ and I bringing up the rear. But it was Rafe who trailed behind, his presence almost ghostlike, like a lost puppy, following silently in our wake.

As we strolled through the maze of alleyways, I felt a sudden, sharp wave of nausea hit me. It was sudden, and intense, as if something in my stomach was threatening to rise up. I let out a soft huff, pressing my hand to my stomach, trying to hold back the overwhelming feeling of sickness.

JJ, who had been walking beside me, must've noticed the change in my posture because he looked at me with concern. "Y/N?" he called, his voice laced with worry.

"Oh god," I muttered under my breath, the nausea worsening, my head spinning.

"What's wrong? You okay?" JJ asked, his voice low, concern evident on his face.

I shook my head, barely able to focus on him. "No... I need to sit," I said, my voice strained. I felt like I was going to collapse if I didn’t stop moving.

JJ quickly guided me to a pile of carpets that were stacked outside a shop. The soft fabric felt like a relief under me as I sat down, trying to steady my breathing. The rest of the group quickly noticed, and soon I was surrounded by their concerned faces. Kiara dropped to her knees in front of me, her eyes searching mine, her hand resting on my knee in a comforting gesture.

"What's up? What are you feeling?" she asked, her voice soft and filled with genuine concern.

"I'm really nauseous," I managed to answer, my hand covering my mouth, just in case. I didn’t trust myself to hold it down any longer.

Cleo, who had been standing off to the side, stepped forward, her arms crossed over her chest. "She probably needs food. It’s been like two days..or what?" she said, her voice tinged with practicality.

"Yeah, the baby’s probably hungry too," Pope added, offering a casual shrug, as if it was just an obvious conclusion.

I froze, my stomach twisting. The mention of "the baby" caught me off guard, and suddenly, all eyes turned to me. Rafe, who had been hanging back, still distant, looked like he was suddenly paying attention. His gaze shifted from me to Pope and then back to me, his brow furrowing.

"What baby?" Rafe asked, his voice sharp, as if something about the situation didn't sit right with him.

Oh god, here we go.

Pope went silent, and I could feel the tension rise in the air, thickening around us. I glanced up at Rafe, who was now standing a few feet away, looking at me with an expression that was hard to read. His eyes narrowed as if trying to make sense of what he had just heard.

"No, seriously, what baby?" he repeated, his voice insistent, even stern now.

I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment settle over me. There was no easy way to say it, but it had to be said. "I’m pregnant, Rafe," I said quietly, locking eyes with him. "With your baby."

The words hung in the air between us, like they were too heavy to carry. For a long moment, Rafe didn’t say anything. He just stood there, silent, his expression unreadable. The others were watching him closely, waiting for a reaction, but he remained eerily still.

I could feel the tension growing, an awkwardness settling in the space around us, as if everything had just shifted. My hands were shaking slightly, not from the nausea anymore, but from the weight of what had just been revealed. And Rafe, he was just staring at me, his mouth slightly parted but no words coming out.

"Go get her something to eat," Rafe suddenly snapped, his voice cutting through the tension that still hung thick in the air.

Without another word, he dug through his small waist bag, the leather creaking under his movements. I wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but then, with a small grunt of satisfaction, he pulled out a wad of cash—several bills, all stacked neatly together. As he unfolded them, I saw that he had about $400 in his hand, a small fortune for street vendors in Essaouira.

"Wait what?" JJ’s voice broke the moment of disbelief. He raised an eyebrow and shook his head. "They don’t take dollars, you idiot—"

"I said go," Rafe interrupted sharply, his tone hardening. There was no room for argument, no sign of hesitation in his voice. It was almost as if he was trying to regain some control over the situation, and in doing so, he completely dismissed JJ’s protests. His words were a command, not a suggestion.

The rest of us exchanged uneasy glances, the shift in Rafe’s demeanor catching everyone off guard. But without further discussion, John B, Sarah, Cleo, Pope, and Kiara reluctantly turned to start walking back toward the market, their steps unsure but obedient. JJ hesitated for a moment, clearly frustrated by Rafe’s abruptness, but eventually followed along as well.

Rafe’s eyes lingered on me for a second, his expression unreadable. He stood still for a moment longer, his gaze momentarily drifting over to the group before returning to me. He didn’t say anything else. His words had been clear, and I could tell that something about the situation had shifted for him.

"I don’t care whether you want the baby or not, but I’m keeping them," I said, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. My heart pounded in my chest, the weight of my decision pressing down on me. The truth was, I had made up my mind. I had to keep the baby, and nothing anyone said or did would change that. Not even Rafe.

Rafe’s eyes widened at my declaration, and for a moment, he just stood there, staring at me, his face unreadable. Then, he kneeled down, and he let out a sharp breath. "Hey, hey, hey—who said I don’t want to keep the baby?" His voice was calm, but there was an underlying tension to it, as if my words had hit a nerve.

I blinked, caught off guard by his response. The words seemed to hang in the air for a moment, and I wasn’t sure what to say next. His eyes were fixed on me now, intense, searching. It felt like something was shifting between us, and I couldn’t quite wrap my head around it.

"We’ll take care of them," Rafe continued, his tone softening just a fraction. "I’ll be with you throughout the whole journey, Y/N. You’re not doing this alone." His voice held a kind of resolve, as if he had already decided, as if he was offering something that felt almost too good to be true.

For a split second, it felt like the world around me had stopped moving. The noise from the market faded into the background, and all I could hear was the steady beat of my own heart. The words he said felt surreal, like they were echoing in my head. "I’ll be with you, 'aight?"

I blinked again, almost feeling like I was in a dream, like I had slipped into some alternate reality where everything suddenly made sense. But when I looked at Rafe, his gaze never wavering from mine, I felt a wave of disbelief wash over me. It felt like a nap dream, a momentary illusion that would disappear when I woke up.

"What?" I said, my voice coming out in a whisper of disbelief. "Sorry—"

Rafe seemed unbothered by my shock. He placed his hands on my knees, his movements deliberate. "You heard me, Y/N." His words were firm, and there was no mistaking the sincerity in them.

For a long moment, neither of us spoke. The air between us was thick with unspoken thoughts, and I could feel the weight of what he had just said settle in my chest. It was almost too much to process. I had always expected Rafe to pull away, to make this harder for me. But here he was, standing before me with something I hadn’t expected, a promise. A promise to be there. A promise to face this together.

My mind spun, trying to make sense of it. I glanced away for a moment, as if hoping the world would shift and reveal the truth. But when I looked back at him, his expression hadn’t changed. He was still looking at me with those steady, unwavering eyes.

"You’re serious," I murmured more to myself than to him.

Rafe didn’t flinch. "Yeah," he said simply, as if there was nothing more to discuss, as if the decision had already been made. "I’ll be there for you. For us."

For the first time, I didn’t know what to say. My heart was still racing, but for a different reason now. There was a part of me that wanted to believe him, to hold on to this moment, to trust that things might actually be okay. But there was also a part of me that was terrified of what this all meant, of how my life was about to change in ways I couldn’t predict.

I stared at him in utter disbelief, barely able to process the reality unfolding before me. It felt like some kind of miracle. My vision began to blur as tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, the emotions welling up and spilling over, probably caused by the pregnancy hormones, but I couldn’t stop them. I tried to blink them away, but they only gathered faster, until a warm tear rolled down my cheek.

Rafe’s expression softened when he noticed, his gaze never leaving mine. He reached out and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close in a way that felt so natural, so steady. He didn’t hesitate for a second, and his embrace was warm, reassuring, holding me together when I felt like I was on the edge of falling apart, and God, it felt good to be back in his arms.

His hand rubbed gentle circles on my back as he murmured, “We’re gonna be parents.” His voice was soft, filled with awe and disbelief, as if he was speaking the words for the first time and couldn’t quite believe them either.

I nodded against his chest, clutching onto him as tightly as I could. The weight of his words settled over us, the reality of what lay ahead, and as much as I wanted to be brave, I couldn’t shake the fear that started to consume my mind. I let out a shaky breath, my voice coming out in a whisper, “I’m scared, Rafe.” The words felt small, vulnerable, but they were the truth.

He pulled back just enough to look at me, his hands gently cupping my face as his thumbs brushed away the stray tears still slipping down my cheeks. “I know,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I am scared too.” There was a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes that mirrored my own, a glimmer of uncertainty about the unknown future that lay ahead.

“But we’re in this together,” he continued, his voice growing stronger, as if he was convincing himself as much as he was reassuring me. “I don’t have all the answers, and I don’t know what’s coming… but I’m not going anywhere.” He leaned down and rested his forehead against mine, closing the space between us. “I’ll be there every step of the way.”

His words washed over me, filling some hollow place I hadn’t realized was empty. In that moment, his presence felt like a lifeline, pulling me out of my fears, giving me a glimpse of something that felt almost like hope. The future was terrifying, yes, but it felt a little less daunting with him by my side.

I looked up at him, my voice steadying as I replied, “I’m glad it’s you.” And as I said the words, I realized just how much I meant them.

He offered me a small, crooked smile, a warmth in his eyes that I hadn’t seen before. “We’re gonna figure this out together,” he promised. “One step at a time.”

I nodded, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. And in that moment, held in his arms, I felt a little less afraid.

Suddenly, as if on cue, the rest of the group appeared, each carrying an assortment of food and drinks. It was almost comical, watching them return all at once, each of them holding something different, John B with a handful of pita bread, Cleo balancing a bowl of yogurt, JJ carrying bottled water, and Sarah clutching a small bag of fruit, including a shiny red apple that she immediately extended toward me.

“Here,” Sarah said softly, her face easing with relief as she offered the apple. I took it gratefully, feeling the cool skin of the fruit in my hand, and took a tentative bite. The crisp, sweet flavor flooded my senses, soothing the nausea that had been twisting in my stomach. They watched with eager anticipation, and as they saw me begin to nibble, their worried expressions started to relax.

“Feeling better now?” Pope asked, his voice gentle but laced with concern as he studied my face.

I swallowed another bite and nodded, a smile creeping onto my face. “Yeah, yeah… thank you,” I replied, glancing at each of them.

They exchanged glances, visibly relieved, and a sense of warmth spread through me as I looked around at their familiar faces, each one showing their own brand of care. I realized then just how much I’d come to rely on them, not just as friends, but as family. I felt a comforting wave of gratitude for each of them, knowing they’d been there for me without question, supporting me in ways I hadn’t even thought possible.

As I took another sip of water, Rafe moved a little closer to me, his hand resting gently on my thigh. His touch was subtle, but the gesture was enough to let me know he was still there, holding his promise to stay by my side. There was something calming in his presence now, something steadying that I hadn’t noticed before.

The others began chatting among themselves, sharing their own stories of haggling with the vendors, laughing about who’d paid the most for what they’d brought. They were giving Rafe and me a moment, I realized, a chance to talk without the pogues’ attention fixed on us.

Rafe leaned down slightly, his face level with mine, his voice low and steady. “You really okay?” he asked, his hand still warm on my thigh.

I took a deep breath, the initial dizziness and nausea fading, leaving behind a feeling of clarity I hadn’t expected. “Yeah, I think so." I paused, looking up into his eyes.

He smiled, a soft, almost vulnerable expression, and for a moment, he seemed like a different Rafe—one who wasn’t weighed down by pride or bravado. “That's good” His voice was filled with a sincerity that softened something inside me. "Don't want our little one and her mommy to starve, do we?" He smiled making me let out a low chuckle.

In this quiet moment, I knew, deep down, that I wouldn’t want anyone else to be the father of my child. Everything just felt right. Despite all the chaos, the ups and downs, there was a steady comfort in knowing me and Rafe would face it together.

likes and reblogs are appreciated! 🐇

>゜))彡 taglist — @rafecamerons-national-anthem @ts1mp0ne @vheavxly @enjoymyloves @tv-girllover07 @husherstan @smthabsolutelyunhinged @multisection @onlyrealjoy @hoelesslyt @nina357

[tonycries]

“She My Best Friend, Yeah We Not a Couple.”

Synopsis. You know it’s wrong to fuck your best friend. But how can you complain when you’re slammed against the library desk and stuffed full of his big cock like this?

Pairing. Multiple x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected sex, panties in your mouth (+ some other very heinous things), really fucking dirty, public sex, jealous sex (from his side), pet names (my angel), swearing.

Word count. 1.3k

A/N. My ancestors are prolly so proud of me rn. Art by @_3em on X.

“Best friend” his ass. 

It’s laughable really - the way those other losers think they have a chance with you when you’re begging for his dick every night. 

He’s known you since you were both whiney, snot-faced brats - and right now he’s got you sitting prettily on his lap in a study room tucked on the campus library. Your needy mewls are muffled into the crook of his neck as he holds you steady by your hips, the length of his achingly hard cock nudging the line of your ass. 

Panties hastily pulled to the side, your slick pools on his flushed tip, dripping along his length to his tight balls. Pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your racing pulse, he drags his hefty erection teasingly along your dripping folds. 

God, he could feel the way your pussy was clenching desperately around nothing and it was driving him insane. 

Surely that study buddy of yours could wait a few minutes. Who did that scrub even think he was? Eyeing his pretty lil’ best friend like that.

“Hngh- please, I want-.” you whisper into his ear, the heat of your breath sending blood rushing straight to his already rock-hard cock. Your needy whimpers are cut off as he subconsciously thrusts in-between your swollen folds, juices making the prominent veins along his length glisten.

Fuck, this was getting too much for him too. 

“Tell me what you want, my angel.” he leans down to murmur raspily in your ear, sending a trail of goosebumps down your spine. You were so fucking hot. 

That scrub couldn’t even imagine this. How perfect you were. How wet you were for him. How lustful your voice is as you sinfully whine, “I want your cock in me so badly. Want you to fuck me right here. Right now.”

With lightning speed, he’s got you bent against the cold surface of the library desk, painfully hard cock throbbing under the thin material of your panties. You gasp as his length grinds against your quivering cunt.

Having you splayed out so sinfully for him, he’s never been more thankful that the old librarian was such a heavy sleeper - probably wouldn’t wake up for a stampede of elephants if it happened. 

“This shit is getting in my fucking way.” he groans out as a large hand grabs your soaked panties. 

A sharp rip! of fabric sounds throughout the still air of the study room. “Much better.” he grins dangerously, harshly groping every inch of skin now laid completely bare for him.

“Please. Put it in.” you mewl, voice dripping with need for him. Fuck, he’ll never get used to this. 

“Shhh, my angel.” with a low hiss, he bullies his thick cock into your dripping cunt.

“God. S’tight, so tight. Pussy so desperate for me hah- sucking me back in. She doesn’t want me to leave, huh?” he grits out through strangled moans as he sheaths himself completely into your wet pussy. Shit, at this point they’ll hear him and not you.

Warm walls squeezing him to insanity, he fucks you at a feral pace, pulling out till his tip teases your dripping entrance, only to ram himself fully inside once more. 

“Ah! Hngh- It’s too much. Please!” 

He would never get to know the feeling of your snug cunt desperately sucking his cock back in every time he rams into you. He would never get to feel the way your walls clamp down on him, struggling to adjust to the burning stretch of his thick cock. He could never make you feel this good.

That loser probably has a small dick anyway.

He drinks in the pornographic ah! ah! ah! leaving your mouth at each harsh thrust, feeling intoxicated off the animalistic cadence of his hips, and the thick white ring of slick forming at his base. 

“Shit. Always so good f’me, my angel.” he groans, your pretty moans only making him thrust impossibly deeper in a way that has you scrambling to hold onto the table for support. 

His throaty groans and the merciless slapping of his heavy balls against your ass echoes across the room as his fingers dig deep purple marks into your hips.

“S-someone’s gonna hah- hear-” 

“Then we must be quiet, hm?”

Before you have a chance to process what’s happening, the wet panties that were tightly gripped in his hand are now stuffed into your mouth. You moan around the large fingers forcing themselves inside, cold rings stretching your mouth as much as your cunt.

His cock twitches as he forces you to taste yourself, feeling you getting impossibly wetter. That’s his girl. 

He could never fuck you like this. 

Moans now muffled by the fabric in your mouth, his saliva-coated fingers move down to draw rough circles on your clit - making you yelp at the stimulation. 

He knows someone could walk in at any moment - and a part of him actually wants it to happen. Let them see, he thinks. At least then those fuckers would finally take a hint.

A soft whine of his name snaps him out of his pussy-drunk thoughts, blown-out eyes now meeting your dazed ones as you lock eyes with him over your shoulder. Lipstick smeared, tears clinging to your lashes, and panties half-hanging out of your kiss-bitten lips.

Ah, actually scratch that - he’s gonna keep his pretty lil’ best friend all to himself.

“Shhh, my angel. I’ve got you.” he towers over you, pressing a trail of kisses up the curve of your spine before angling your neck to attach his lips with yours. He delights in your surprised squeal, clearly not expecting him to kiss you with your panties still in your mouth. But for you, he’d do anything.

Cock twitching, your feet almost lift off the ground as the rhythm of his hips gets harsher. He intertwines his tongue with yours, sweet slick-soaked panties wrapped in the middle. Fuck, he was going insane at the contrast of your soft tongue with the lacy fabric of your panties, hand around your neck getting tighter.

You moan incoherently as he sucks on your tongue, drool dripping down the corner of your mouth and onto the polished library desk. 

It was so fucking lewd. Doesn’t matter how many losers swarm around you - none of them deserved you. None of them could fuck you like this.

Your sounds of pleasure get more and more frantic as his cock still slams inside you relentlessly, ringed-fingers continuing their abuse on your clit - getting closer and closer to what you crave.

He can feel the way your walls flutter so snugly around him. God, he’s so fucking turned on that he doesn’t know whether the heartbeat he feels between his legs is his or yours.

Neither of you have to wait long. His tongue still continues its dance with yours, around your soaked panties, as you both cum with a muffled moan. 

Your pussy clenches around him as you climax him as if to milk his cock for all he’s worth. And you do, thick ropes of his hot cum painting your pulsing hole white. 

Riding out both your highs, he fucks his cum into you animalistically - feet lifting off the floor at his firm grip on your waist and the sheer power of his rough thrusts.

So messy. Damn, he has to send the librarian an apology gift later - a fruit basket or something, he wonders, barely lucidly. 

His mind is still foggy as he pulls his sensitive cock out, and pockets your panties for a lonely night without his dear best friend. Promptly plugging his fingers in your quivering pussy, cum smearing on his fingers, he mutters out a quick “Keep it inside.”

Walking out of the heavy, sex-filled atmosphere of the study room, he bumps into that fucking study buddy of yours - running late and clearly surprised to see him there.

With a slow smirk, “Sorry in advance, my girl made a bit of a mess in there. Hope you don’t mind.”

Hey, this is what best friends are for, right?

- GOJO, GETO, Choso, Tsukishima, ATSUMU, SUNA, Oikawa, Kuroo, EREN, Armin

A/N. Teehee *blushes like a slut*

Longfic Sunday incoming if I manage to write 6k words by tomorrow.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[oreo-creampie]

“𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫!!!”

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬! Mean!toji, hints of reader being a brat, spanking (ass/cunt), biting, praise & degradation, cock drunk/pussy drunk, thigh fucking, teasing/begging, light size kink, gagging/choking, some face fucking, manhandling you, hair pulling, pain kink, daddy/lil mama

fey: writing makes me feel like a rusty gate covered in moss that screams in protest when moved

Toji is too big! Your jaw aches whilst your eyes blur with tears. His groans as he fucks your throat is making your pussy drip.

Seeing the the tears slipping down your cheeks as you gag on his fat cock he smirks then demands, “Say that shit again, come on be a mouthy lil’ brat n’ see what fuckin’ happens.” Yanking you by your hair smacking you across the face as you gasp for air.

Your cheek sweetly sting, “‘M sorry please I won’t be a-!” Toji cuts you off by sticking two thick fingers into your mouth. You can faintly taste your cunt as you suck.

He croons, “So you wanna lie to me now?” Sliding his fingers out of your mouth, smearing your spit on your face. Toji yanks you onto your feet with a fistful of hair. “I always gotta remind you how to fuckin’ act.” He shoves you face down ass up onto your sofa.

Toji’s hands are so big and rough, fuck he’s big and rough tossing you around like you’re a doll. His thick fingers brush close to your wet cunt as he massages your cheeks. “I’m thinking I might fuck your thighs n’ cum on your pretty pussy.” Toji roughly smacks your your wet cunt three times with his large palm.

Your pussy throbs with a fiery sharp sting that two of his thick fingers ease. Toji admires how your soft lips look wrapping around his fingers. It’s sinful how he groans, “Fuck,” whilst slowly fucking you fingers with his fingers. “You’re making such a mess.”

“You don’t deserve my fingers but you have such a pretty lil’ wet cunt I wanna stretch her out n’ ruin her. Wanna hear her squelchin telling me how much she loves me when I fuck ya.”

Using all your energy to focus on getting out, “How do you know my pussy loves you?” Whilst he fucks your cunt faster, stroking your g-spot making you tremble and whine.

He smacks your ass, digging his nails in and jiggle your cheek before taking a bite. Groaning as he softly shakes his head, burying his face in your soft cheek.

Smacking the aching bite mark when he pulls away. He sneers, “By the way she gushes and squeezes my cock like she doesn’t wanna let me go.” Whining, shifting your hips, and struggling to keep your feet planted when Toji stretches your hole apart with two large fingers.

You can hear the condescending smirk in his proud tone, “N’ cause of my sharp sense of smell, I know how wet you get. Smells so fuckin’ sweet like your goin’ into heat, your little slutty cunt needs my fat cock n’ we both know it.”

Toji slowly glides his fingers out, smearing your wetness between your thighs. “Too bad I have to fuck your thighs instead.”

Clutching onto your fluffy sofa cushions, begging Toji, “Please fuck me, I wanna feel your cock!” Your cunt clenches nothing as Toji slides his warm fat cock between your thighs, he’s taunting you,just barely rubbing your clit.

Toji tightly grabs both hips to keep you from squirming. “But you will be, just not in your pussy not tonight, maybe tomorrow morning when I got morning wood. I might be feelin’ a lil nicer” His cock is so close to your cunt it’s unfair. Each steady stroke taunts you, he should be fucking your pussy like that.

Whining, “Please daddy-toji!” Grabbing his wrists, this position and now you got in it feels so lewd. He’s manhandled you, putting your ass in the air, face down into the sofa with his veiny cock in between your legs.

Toji lines himself up with your soft cunt, swiping his fat warm head along your soft wet slit. “You’re not playing fair lil mama you can’t moan that n’ expect me not to fold.” You clench up and whine when he smacks your cunt with his cock, he’s so heavy, and big.

Toji leans over you, trapping you against the sofa with your ass in the air. You moan as he glides half in head in whining he stops to croon, “Lil mama are you sure you need daddy’s cock?”

all fics

[classyrbf]

ᯓ★ BABY FEVER! — NANAMI KENTO

“Awe come on Ken, don’t you wanna—ah—cum in me? Fill me up, breed me? Nngh fuck!” You say in a teasing voice, your knees pushed all the way to your chest as his animalistic thrusts push you further into the bed. His pulsating cock and your sloppy hole making a mess on the sheets below. Plap! Plap! Plap! He knocks the wind out of you with each jolt of his hips.

Nanami’s mind is absolutely spiraling at your words. It’s like you flipped some sort of switch in his brain, and it doesn’t help with how tightly your cunt is hugging him either. “This greedy pussy wants my cum, hm? Careful what—ugh, shit—what you wish for, love!” He breathily chuckles through his moans. The bed creaks under your weight, the sheer force of hips knocking the headboard against the wall.

“I want it, Ken! So bad! Hah! Mmmph! Want y-you to put a baby in me!” You nod up at him, pleading eyes and all. The grip he has around your legs tighten and you swear you could see his eyes darken. He’s quick to throw your legs over his shoulder, pushing his weight down on you, folding you into a mating press. “Oh my god!” You swear you could feel the tip of leaky fat cock reach deeper than before, stretching your poor pussy.

“Want me to make you a mommy? Yeah? Is that it? That’s what my sweethearts been wanting all this time?” His lips quirk into a smirk, flashing a wicked grin at you. Your jaw falls slack, eyes wide as his heavy balls slap against the fat of your ass. “I’ll breed this pretty pussy everyday until you’re round with my kids—fuck, yes, yes, keep taking it!” The mere thought makes him feral.

“Yes, cum in me, baby, yes, yes! I’ll take all of it!” You cry out, eyes clenching shut when he roughly slams his hips into you over and over, his cock dragging against your gummy walls before sucking him right back in. The barge of his hips sends your eyes rolling back and you can tell he’s close to cumming, his erratic pace a telltale hint. “You’re so fucking deep in me! Oh my god!”

“This pussy’s gonna make me cum, sweetheart—nnngh—yes, keep squeezing me like that! Fuck, fuck,” he pants heavily, “I’m cumming!” He slams into you once more, the force making you cry out and cling onto his sweaty body. A blissful sigh escaped your lips as you felt his cum paint your insides, a lazy smile spreading across your face. “There you fucking go!” He groans, slowly dragging his hips out before pushing his thick length back in, fucking his sticky cum into you.

Both of you breathe heavily, trying to catch your breath as he pulls out, a mix of your juices and his cum coating his length. His eyes gravitate towards your swollen cunt, watching the way his cum leaks out of you and he’s quick to push it back in with his thumb. The corner of his lips turn into a satisfied smile before he leans down as places a sloppy kiss on your puffy lips, tongues gliding against each other before pulling away. He looks down between his legs, his dick still rock hard.

You let out a soft giggle, spreading your legs for him again. “Gonna breed me some more?” You bite down on your bottom lip.

“Only,” his throbbing top pushes past your messy folds, the warmth of your pussy wrapping around him as he slowly inserts himself inch by inch, “if you ask nicely, sweetheart.”

[nanaslutt]

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

toji “i’m not gay” fushiguro letting shiu fuck him (not in a gay way because he’s def not gay)

“fuuuuuck.” toji groans, digging his heels into the sheets where he has his knees bent. shiu’s hand around his cock is so tight, stroking him off steadily while he eats him out.

toji burries his hand in shius hair and grips the strands roughly, making shiu grunt against his ass. “fuck, so rough. this is how you say thank you for eating your ass?” he teases, kissing his thigh before sucking on his balls while teasing toji’s cockhead with his fingers.

toji sucks air in through his teeth, eyes fluttering. “don’t kiss me, and you know you like it.” he yanks on shius hair again, emphasizing his words when he grunts in pleasure, lips popping off of his balls.

“so i can burry my tongue here?” shiu says, sucking and licking against his hole, making toji buck against his face. shiu shakes his head back and forth, letting his tongue sloppily lick him down there, before he pulls back. “but i can’t kiss you?”

“it’s fucking weird, i’m not a woman.” toji grunts, slapping shius hand out of the way to jerk himself off when he goes too slow for his liking.

shiu smirks predatorily and climbs up the bed, taking his own cock in his hand while he slides himself between tojis legs. “no, you definitely aren’t.” he agrees, teasing tojis hole with the tip of his cock by rubbing it up at down.

toji bites his lip, jerking his dripping cock faster. “hurry up, don’t have all day.” he grunts, squeezing shius waist with his knees.

shiu presses the tip of his cock against his hole harder, teasing him to the tip before pulling back out. “what if i want to hear you beg?” shiu teases, nudging toji’s balls with his cock and making him groan.

“i’m not begging for your cock, i’m not gay.” toji grunts, reaching down to grip shuis thigh while undulating his hips up and down.

shiu smiles and drags his cock back to tojis asshole, finally giving him what he wants. toji groans long and low, gripping the base of his cock in an iron hold to prevent himself from cumming prematurely while he presses his lips together, eyes rolling to the back of his head.

“my cock is in your ass, zenin.” shiu says, pulling out to give toji a shallow thrust. toji immediately grunts when he finds that sweet spot inside him right away.

“so?” he replies breathily, begining to stroke his cock when shiu starts pumping into him steadily.

shiu wraps his arms around tojis thick thighs, holding them to his chest before he starts to pick up the pace, balls slapping welty against tojis ass as he pounds his hole. “you said you’re not gay, but you let me put my cock in your ass.”

tojis eyes are rolling back in his head, and he grits his teeth, reaching up with one hand to pinch his sensitive nipple while stroking himself off. shiu pounds right against his prostate with each thrust, making his stomach heat. “shut the fuck up. fuck. shit, fuck that feels fucking good.”

shiu bites his lip before poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue, leaning back to angle his hips upwards more. he’s rewarded by a loud grunt from toji when he pegs his prostate dead on. the slapping of his balls against tojis ass is so vulgar and aggressive, he loves it.

“feels good when a cock massages your prostate, huh?” shiu teases, watching toji act like a slut on his cock, pinching his nipples and tightening his hole like a pro.

“doesn’t- make me fucking gay, fuck!!” he borderline yells when shiu presses his legs down by his head, lifting his ass off the mattress as he starts pounding him deep.

“god, i’m in ur fucking stomach zenin. you like that doll? huh?”

his only response is tojis hand smacking against his lips to shut him up. shiu darts his tongue out and instantly is met with the taste of his salty cum. toji is still pinching his nipples, but he let his cock go to shut him up. now it’s bouncing freely against his stomach, so red and hard, almost ready to burst. shiu wants so badly to suck it down his throat and relieve his ache.

“give it to me harder, know you can do better than that, cmon.” toji grunts. shius balls throb when toji slaps his ass before digging his nails into the fat of it, still pinching his nipple so hard it looks borderline painful.

“your hole is so tight, zenin. you feelin it? cos im gonna cum.”

toji starts fucking him back harder, cock slapping well against his stomach, leaving a pool of pre on his abdomen. “you’re such a- one minute man, make me cum first. selfish- fucking-“ tojis mouth falls open in a silent moan when shiu stars pounding harder, deeper, faster.

tojis cock erupts, his balls pushing out his cum all over his torso as he orgasms handsfree. his seed shoots all over his chest, some even getting on his chin as he tips his head back and groans like his soul is leaving his body.

“oh yeah baby, fuuuck. milking my fucking cock. god you’re so sexy cumming without touching your dick. fuck!!” shiu isn’t far behind him. he presses his body weight down on toji and stills as he spills his seed inside his tight asshole, grunting when rope after rope fills him.

both men breath heavily come down from their orgasms. shius head is burried in tojis neck, and toji curses at him when shiu kisses his chest. pushing off of his body, still inside him, he teasingly thrusts his softening cock inside his ass. “think it’s gay to have an ass full of cum, zenin?”

[sanjisblackasswife]

JJK Men with a GF with a Fat Ass (NSFW-ISH)

…I’m taking a small break from drawing and I missed doing HCs. Shaddap.

Ft. Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji, Choso

Black ! Fem Reader in Mind

CW: Twt Links!, mentions of sex, men are a bit OOC

Gojo

Gojo definitely does this to you anytime you lay on his lap. And if he finds out you’re not wearing any panties under it…welp..all plans are now cancelled

He’s a pervert and it’s your fault.

He’s never really seen women of your stature often so when you both were younger he was so BLUNT with his thoughts about your body.

“You have a very voluptuous—“

“Imma stop you right there….VO-WHO?”

“You don’t know what the word vo—-“

“No, I know. I’m confused as to why you are using that word when talking about my ass.”

Gojo is 6’6-7” , he’s a big nigga, but can he handle a big behind?

No.

No he cannot.

He constantly uses his blindfolded eyes to shamelessly watch the way your walk across the room in public. His poker face is actually impressive, but if you couldn’t see how tight his fist were in his pockets it’d prove otherwise.

He’s so got damn childish he does this shit sometimes because he thinks your ass is perfect for playing on

“CAN YOU STOP.”

“Whhhyyyyuuuhhhhhh.”

When you wear moomoo’s or a big shirt it is his favorite

Yup.

Moomoo.

Your ass is free to move and shake to its desire and he just watches in awe. He loves you bad.

Another thing he loves doing is napping on your butt, he doesn’t sleep often, unfortunately, but he can attest that the best nap he has ever taken was in between your plush thighs and ass.

He blames his pretty little girlfriend as to why he is now an ass man when he initially was a boob guy.

Geto

He takes these kinda pictures with you which sometimes leads to him pulling down your underpants and massaging it with his bare hands to then licking or kissing it to then…eating…you…out…while you’re standing.

He loves watching you put on clothes.

Having to shake, jump, and wiggle yourself into some pants is actually so sexy to him.

If your butt is anything like mine and is HEAVY. He LOVES it even more , watching the way the movement in your butt and thighs to match is something Geto finds so so mesmerizing.

One thing about Geto he’s very sneaky, he’ll come up behind you to help pull up your bottoms you clearly need no help putting on, and everytime he does you can feel a slight pressure on your ass that is a verrrryyy familiar feel to a bulge.

He can’t help it, your ass is so pretty.

Sitting on his lap is a must, whether he is talking with someone in public or doing some work he needs to feel your weight on him.

The first time you sat on his lap you swore you heard a groan. When you turned to ask him if he was okay, his cheeks were very pink.

He denies it to this day, but even if he did it’s your fault because why does your ass feel so good against his pelvis?

Showers with Geto are so insufferable in the best way because once you finish cleaning yourself your long haired boyfriend can’t wait to practically grind and hump against you into the cool shower wall.

He definitely loves hugging you from behind, swaying you back and forth. To others it’s a cute gesture seeing such a big man hold you so close, practically dwarfing you , only you and him know the real intention behind it was just him whispering how good you look in that dress and how badly he wants you.

Geto is such a sensual person next to nanami. Even after sex and you’re laying with him in a bliss he finds his way to continue his love by kissing and licking you down and praises of how beautiful and sexy you are even after such activities. He calls it “Cleaning you up”…little perv.

“‘Was wrong?… Embarrassed?”

“YES.”

“Good, now c’mere.”

Toji

Ass eater.🫵🏾

That’s an ass eater he eat ass🫵🏾.

Toji “Ass Eater” Fushiguro

You thought gojo was shameless? Toji is WORSE

As an ass connoisseur he prides himself on always reminding you how fine you are to him.

“You like my dress?”

“Hell yes, mama. Turn around for me.”

SWAT to the ass just to see it recoil

He definitely slaps and GRABS. It’s kinda hot though because he’ll do it anytime anywhere

For example you went with him to some horse racing game for him to make bets and got hungry so you headed to grab a few drinks and snacks. Before walking past him, his legs were spread, tooth pick in his mouth and just like clock work you feel a firm hit to your Jean covered behind.

“OOWWUH!”

“Sssh, Baby im watchin the game….what? Your ass was all in my face what else could I do?”

Whether you are a chunky girl or a skinny girl with a larger butt he don’t care he quite actually is your biggest fan.

Toji is your new seat btw.

Not just his pretty face but his lap too.

He’s a big strong man so don’t EVER think or assume you’re too heavy for him. It ACTUALLY wounds his ego more than you think.

Of course Toji being the ass eater he is almost every other night is spent just like this or sitting on his face. He never seen himself as a pleasure dom kinda guy. With his one night stands he only had sex for himself, but with you of course being the first woman he finally got to love after MamaGuro he takes his time with you. It’s a slutty sight but he knows it’s exactly what can get you off before him

Nanami

This man here.

A KING.

Freaky king but a king none the less.

He loves every part of you.

Which is what he does say and prove everytime you both are together but he does have a small little quirk about him that you aren’t sure whether or not to point it out in fear he may stop out of embarrassment or awareness.

Most men guide their woman by putting their hand on their lower back

Nanami however does this

ESPECIALLY on date night.

Just like Geto he loves to watch you dress, but also dresses you himself

“Wear this, yes? It compliments your skin beautifully.”

“You sure it’s not, because it’s a bit tighter below the waist?”

And now hes blushing.

He’ll admit. Whenever you come and visit him during lunch to feed him a home cooked meal he hates to see you go but LOVES to watch you leave.

Especially with that sundress you wear during the spring.

Nanami definitely is another man that will practically BEG for you to sit on his face.

“It’s okay, baby, honest. Use my face.”

“Kentoooo—!??”

One of his favorite ways to eat you out is like this. It was actually so embarrassing for you at first only because of his SLUTTY MOANS. Which was something you wouldn’t expect from a man like him, but you wasn’t complaining!He whined and whimpered so shamelessly inside you, you couldn’t even make eyes contact after cumming on his tongue.

Choso

Lord bless him.

He is very….confused to say the least.

He never understood the attraction of women’s parts.

Of course he found YOU attractive, but that was all over until he seen your shape.

“Oh.”

“…oh?”

“You—“

You usually wore baggy clothing like him. You decided to change really quickly at his new apartment and he was watching you.

Who knew you had a BODY LIKE THAT under all of those clothes!

“You’re sex—cute…”

Choso isn’t necessarily a shy man, but more hesitant when it comes to touching and complimenting you…

You’ve told him time and time again he is free to touch you when he wants but you sometimes have to guide him.

Usually when he wants to grab your ass he walks DANGEROUSLY close behind you.

So a few times you take his hand and place it on your cheek. For a moment he just rubs his hand across the soft skin and then SQUEEZE.

Choso loves to kneed and rub on your ass while he licks you so usually it’s 69 or you laid to your side.

Another things he actually loves seeing you in are sweats with a small top. Your lower body being heavier than the top is so attractive and you look so squeezable he can’t help but to hug you from behind

Please. Please PUH LEASE wear thigh high socks around him the ones that go RIGHT UNDER the cup of your ass and shake it JUST A LIL in front of him.

Moans at the sight everytime

No like literally MOANS by just looking at your ass jiggle.

He doesn’t think he’s a pervert but from how he grinds and hump against your ass while you sleep says otherwise.

If yall are wondering why I didn’t really speak on backshots it js because ALL OF THEM GO FERAL DOING IT.

[joeloverture]

deadfall | enemy!j.m. x f!reader

masterlist | notifs blog | on palestine

pairing: dad’s enemy!joel miller x f!reader summary: joel miller, rival raiders with your father, is the last person you expect to save you from the group that captured you. he’s also the last person you expect to sleep with. [post outbreak] warnings: (mdni) canon typical violence (stalkers, mentions of death), porn with plot, game or tv joel, reader born before the outbreak, reader has a present/loving father figure (HAH), alternate universe — joel never went to boston, implied age gap but how big is up to you, self indulgent humor, quicksand, explicit smut, reader is a biiiit of a peeping tom, close proximity, only one bed, (brief) accidental somnophilia so dubcon, dry humping, degradation, humiliation, mirror sex, unprotected piv (he’s snipped dw), doggy style, manhandling (he fucks you in a headlock), mild breath play & choking, brief hair pulling (reader has hair!), scratching/biting, brief orgasm denial, hatefuck [no use of y/n] word count: 9.5k author's note: pwplot! a joeloverture first. also my first foray into somno! and post!ob joel! lots of firsts here. special thanks to @joelsdagger for taking a glimpse at this for me (and for being the PIONEER that forged joel fucking in a headlock) and @lovesickonmybed for being the best sounding board ever. i hope y'all like this one, i sure do.

There are no infected in the swamp — not this far out. They prefer the slant of buildings or the maw of split pavement. Blood-bloated leeches and black-trunked cypresses aren’t their domain.

You can’t say you blame them. One day in, and you’re already sick of this shit.

A few gnats have flown up your nostrils as you wade through the ankle-deep sludge. Mist curls at the edges of your vision. Your feet keep slipping on the slime covered stones that are half-submerged in the deep. Sweat crystallizes on your nape as your toe catches on a downed branch.

Before you faceplant in the sludge below, a burly hand snags your collar and hauls you up. “You always this much of a klutz?” It’s the first few words he’s said to you in hours.

A scowl buckles your lips. You shove Joel Miller’s arm off your back, splashing up scummy water as you step over the branch this time. You say nothing — don’t even dignify him with a passing glance.

“You’re a real peach, ain’t ya?” Joel says. When he takes his next step, water splashes at the backs of your calves. “Save your ass and this is the thanks I get.”

Joel Miller doesn’t want thanks. Up until he accidentally burnt his thumb with boiling hot coffee yesterday, you’d been convinced he didn’t feel anything at all. As long as his pulse is woven between bullets and stab wounds, he doesn’t give a damn what happens to those around him. His heart, much like the rest of the people at the end of the world, is calcified. Only beating out of necessity.

You’re silent as you footslog forward. The slurp of mud stretches between your shoe and the ground. Your pack jostles against your back. The ache in your bones has proven to be a better company than Joel – at least that is tolerable.

A deadfall lays flat ahead, a tree with cambered branches that droop with moss. Joel cups a hand over his eyes to block out the sun and squints past.

You go to walk past him, around the deadfall.

“Nuh uh,” Joel tugs you back by the scruff. You grunt. “‘S deeper out there. I’d sure like to see you get swallowed up by a gator, but that doesn’t work for me, kid.”

It sure works for you. If you see one of their bumpy snouts protruding out of the water, you’re using him as bait.

You don’t say that, though. Just hitch your foot up over one of the branches in the tree and start to haul yourself up. It’s a nagging ordeal – full of hissing through your teeth and feeling wood tear small cuts into your skin. Your hand tangles in an unoccupied spiderweb before you toss yourself through the other side of the bramble. Water sluices around you as you right yourself, rubbing a bead of blood from one of your knuckles.

Joel’s quick to follow, even quicker to take front again. You’ve learned he likes being ahead of you — unless you’re climbing a ledge or a fallen oak.

The hours wear on. You refuse to be the first to call it for the day. Even when you get stinging salt water into your open cuts, you grin and bear it. When the sun lounges on the chaise of the tree-sketch horizon, he drops his pack on an island of mulch that’s nestled in a grove of dead vegetation. 

You slump down next to him, rifling through your pack for a bite of jerky. Joel’s knees pop. He grunts as he slips down into the dirt and unrolls his sleeping bag. He rolls over, facing away from you. Hand wrapped around his gun like it’s a lover. 

When you do the same, it’s with a barbed insult on your tongue that’s better left unspoken.

At the end of the world, everything is ruleless. But you grew up with exactly one rule: don’t talk about Joel Miller.

You hadn’t been expecting him to kill you.

The Cockroaches, the lesser raider group in Northeast Texas, had captured you. Apparently your dad had some unpaid debts, and in taking you as leverage, they’d intended to get close to him. All they got were bullets in their heads.

You’d sighed in relief when the hatch to your basement confinement had finally opened. A spillage of sun sliced down through the opening, and you were expecting the familiar warmth of your father, an apology, and reassurance that he wouldn’t let them take you again.

Instead, you got Joel. With his hulking gun, broad figure that blocked out the sun, and the scowl that would be the last thing you’d ever see.

You had fumbled against the post you were tied to, feet scrabbling against the floor. You’d winced away when he raised his knife. “Don’t–”

…And cut into your restraints.

You’d rubbed the chafing from your wrists and stared at him, nebulous and delirious. “Get the fuck away from me,” you’d croaked.

“They touch you?” he’d asked. You’d shaken your head. “Hurt ya?” Another shake.

“Good. Now get up and get ready to haul ass.” He turned around, but not before throwing his knife to the ground next to you. The clatter it made against the concrete made your ears ring.

You grabbed the knife.

“Why are you helping me?” you ask him. They’re the only words you’ve spoken since you’d seen him in the cellar. 

“I ain’t,” he says. His voice is gruff. Sandpapery. 

“Looks like helping,” you say, nodding at the pack he’d given you. He’d come out prepared. To get you.

“Your daddy ain’t the only one with debts,” he says.

You stop, booted feet sinking into the mud. Shit. “So that’s what this is. You take me away just to hand me off to some other shitty group?”

“Yeah,” he says with a shrug. He turns around, already mid-stride.

You yank his knife out of your pocket and dive at him.

“Hey, hey, fuck – you little brat,” he spats. He goes off balance before he twists around. You corral him against a tree, leg hitching around his waist as you knee at his thighs, aiming for his crotch. His spittle sprays your cheek as he grunts. His fist wraps around your hand, and the knife splats into the mud. His booted heel slips and he goes sliding back as he shoves you away, hard. You cough as you slam into a tree trunk. The knot that swells out of the bark digs into your head. You drag a branch up off the ground, pushing yourself off the tree as you heft it.

Before you grab it, he slaps you. Hard. Your head goes spinning as you stumble back into the muck. He jams his boot down against your chest, mud smearing across your tank top. “I gotta tie you up, or you gonna fuckin’ listen to me?”

You reach up to grab his ankle, and he just stomps harder against your chest. You wheeze, flopping back in the sludge. “B-bastard,” you hiss.

“Yeah, yeah, shut the hell up. ‘S your dad’s shitty group I’m talkin’ about.”

You give him an incredulous look.

“Your old man ain’t the only one with a coupla debts under his belt.”

“You’re shitting me,” you say. Voice squished in your throat from his tread against your chest.

He shakes his head and finally lets his boot up. You suck in a breath, another cough rattling your ribcage. “Quit being all uppity and pickin’ fights ya can’t win if you wanna learn, dumbass.”

“Why didn’t he just come get me himself?” you grit out as you lean back against a log. You use it to lift yourself, legs feeling gelatinous from being shoved about.

“You didn’t see? Cockroach shot ‘im in the leg.” Your lips tremble, but you straighten them. “He’s fine.”

You scowl. “And you didn’t tell me this sooner?” You march forward. Your arms cross solidly over your chest.

“Figured you wouldn’t take it well.” He looks you up and down. “And I was right.”

You curse under your breath. Dip to grab your knife. Toss it in your hand while you think. You don’t flinch when it slightly nicks your thumb — it’s hardly a poke with all of the scraping you’ve been doing through undergrowth — but Joel smirks. 

He sees you as juvenile. The product of a world that you haven’t earned the right to be in, always cowering behind your dad’s back. 

You’ll prove him wrong.

“How far are we from the nearest city?” you ask. You want to go home. Your arms ache not just from swinging at your side or lifting you up toppled trees, but to wrap around your father. Your bones protest at the thought of being in your skin. Your tank top sticks to your flesh with mud and the parasites that squirm in it.

“I’m not a goddamn fortune teller,” Joel says. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Then we better get moving.” You readjust your pack and jostle him as you march on.

Three days later, and there’s no end in sight to the swamp. Whatever towns you’ve encountered are home to only a derelict gas station and ransacked mom-and-pop stores. They’re no place for pit stops.

You (reluctantly) stay close to Joel, who you’re lucky to hear so much as a murmur out of. Most of the time, he’s redirecting you, tugging you out of the way of half-decade old hunter’s traps or reminding you not to go too far.

“The world isn’t gonna end if I step out of your imaginary line, Joel,” you say. You test your foot on the side of the bank you’re walking on. Nothing happens.

“Ki–” Joel says, brows crunched up.

“See? Fine.” You press more of your weight into the ground. He reaches for you, but your body tilts.

Your foot is sinking.

“You’re a fuckin’ pain in my ass,” Joel says. He pinches his nose bridge. “Shoulda left ya down there.”

You glare at him, bending yourself at the waist so you can try to wiggle yourself with your upper body strength. Your free knee is propped up on the squishy ground. You grunt, palms slipping against the oily, grass-filled mud. “I got it,” you rasp out as he crouches in front of you.

“Uh huh,” he says, frowning pointedly.

“I got it.” You slap his hand away and thresh your leg in the sand. It barely even wiggles. “Fuck.” You strain your leg, huffing and puffing. Dirt fixes itself under your nails.

Joel wraps his arms under your shoulders and you flail in protest. “I said I can handle it!” Instead of listening to you, he tugs at you like pulling a toy from a dog. You keep windmilling your arms.

“Quit thrashin’!” Joel yells. “Any harder and you’re gonna drag me in with you.”

Your face is too close to his. Too close for the uncomfortable heat. His humid breath fans against your sweat-slippery cheek as he groans. Your foot loosens. You prop your calf up on his thigh as he wrests you out of the quicksand. You’re chest-to-chest with him as you tip over the muck, dropping flat against him. “Mmph.”

Joel shoves you off of him, and you fall on your ass in the mud. By all odds, your boot has remained strapped to your foot. He’s already up and moving when he says, “Jesus Christ, you are just like your fuckin’ dad.”

The mud still caked into your shirt has started to flake by the time you reach a city called Monroe. Just off of I-20, you and Joel trek further into what you imagine must’ve been a medium-sized city during its heyday.

You’re bone-weary. Your back keeps popping with every step with how you keep having to sleep on the ground. You’d be thankful for even a mattress of moss — but luckily, you won’t have to settle. Sunset is nearing, which means you can see the blue water (imagine that, blue water) tainted pink and orange below. Houses and the city clocktower reflect into the gentle pull and ebb of the tide.

Joel nods at a half-bent blue roadway sign. “YMCA up ahead,” he says. He wipes the sweat off his brow and clutches his gun closer to his side. “Stay close.”

You keep your hand around the grip of your knife, following him into the city.

It’s quiet as you navigate through a labyrinth of abandoned, rust-gutted cars. At one point, you manage to slip ahead of him, and he allows it for long enough (fifteen seconds) that you opt to take a shortcut through a parking garage. You climb over the edge and dip inside, feet scraping over roots that have grown between concrete slabs. The shade is a brief respite from the scorching sun, but the humidity still wrings the sweat from your pores.

Joel slips ahead of you again, taking long, dragging strides that look as exhausted as you feel. Four days of hiking through swamp and gunk and slapping mosquitoes against your skin has made you grateful to just be walking on solid ground again. Joel steps past a busted, sticker-covered van.

A streak flickers against the dark canopy of the garage. “Infected!” you shout, but Joel falls back on his ass.

His gun flies out of his hand and skids across the concrete. He grunts, shuffling backward, but the stalker’s already on him, its mouth sewn partially shut by fungi. It croaks and slashes at him, blind left eye battering and twitching. Joel throws a hooked punch, but the stalker takes the opportunity to grapple him, snarling in his face.

He’s going to get bit.

You launch forward, knife in-hand. You fling yourself into a tumble with the stalker, legs strewn over Joel’s. Adrenaline plummets through your body. You stomp on its shin and it shrieks. The knife almost slips from your grip as you start to stab blindly. You thrust the blade up through its eye socket.

The thing cackles and caws, its vocal chords clacking with mold and rot. Rusted blood trickles from its nose and down your wrist as you twist the blade further until you meet bone and then whatever is left of a brain is beyond it. You cringe as you drag the knife out and wipe it across your pants. It slumps back in a mound and then falls over.

Your chest heaves as you look between Joel and the stalker. His hands are scraped up as he grabs his gun.

You extend him a hand. He seems to think about it for a second before latching onto you and letting you help him up. He grunts in acknowledgment. “C’mon,” he says. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

This YMCA in particular isn’t like the others you’ve stopped at with your dad. Instead of glass windows and tin roofs, it’s brick and mortar. You and Joel climb in through the window, and you almost sob in relief when you see at least a dozen oversized yoga mats. That’s a suitable homemade mattress, you think. 

There’s a basketball court whose court has been warped and fossilized by the leaks in the roof. A peek of sunset dives in through a hole, lighting up the western side of the room. You expect the pool room to still smell of chlorine. It’s a little weird when it doesn’t even though the pool’s been drained for years, you imagine. From there, you two reach the showers.

Before you let yourself get excited, Joel fiddles with the knobs. Water sprays out of it. “Still hot,” he says, absorbed in the droplets that are spraying his hand. He turns it off.

“Fuck it,” you say, tearing your tank top over your head.

“Woah, woah, woah,” Joel says, turning to face the wall.

“You aren’t the one who’s covered in mud!”

“Yeah, you’re right, I ain’t the one who went jumpin’ into quicksand. I also ain’t the one who deserved an ass whooping.”

You glare at his shoulder blades as you unzip your jeans, fumbling out of them. They’re nearly crunchy with the amount of mud you’ve been traipsing through. “They did charity drives at these things, right?” You never really went to any YMCAs before the world went to shit. “Maybe they’ve got clean clothes.”

“Maybe,” Joel says. “Maybe you shoulda thought about that before you turned this place into a strip club.” You roll your eyes and hook your bra on the shower curtain, followed by your panties.

“I didn’t know you were a prude, Miller,” you say.

He bristles at the accusation. “Maybe I should get an eyeful. Being ‘round you is like wishin’ the Lord would strike me down.”

You laugh. Joel made you laugh. First (and only) time, probably. 

“Yeah, right, you’d get struck down for something a whole lot worse before he started getting mad at you for peeping.”

You fiddle with the shower curtain and step in. There’s old body wash in an automatic dispenser on the wall. It doesn’t work, but it’s easy to wrangle open and squeeze the pouch into your hand. The grout is odd under your bare feet, but quickly becomes familiar as you twist the lever. Water spits down at you, and a satisfied sound leaves you. “Fuuuck,” you sigh. “This is nice.”

Joel clears his throat. “I’m gonna go look for clothes. And deodorant.”

“You should shower too,” you say instead.

You can almost hear the face he makes.

“God, don’t be so much of a Holy Joe, Joel. It’s practical. This water isn’t going to last that damn long, and I am not taking a cold shower when the hot stuff is all right here.”

“You’re a real pain in the ass,” he says like he hasn’t already told you.

Eventually, you hear his belt unbuckle.

He strips down a lot quicker than you. Habit, maybe, you think. His jeans slump against the floor, and then he’s in the shower. You hear the other faucet come on as the water warms against your skin. You sigh, lathering yourself with the Dollar General body wash. It forms iridescent bubbles along your body, and it smells faintly like artificial strawberries. You wonder if it ever used to smell stronger than this.

There’s a slit in Joel’s shower that exists between the curtain and the wall. You should look away, but you shouldn’t have plunged your foot into quicksand, either. There’s many things you shouldn’t do that you take it upon yourself to do anyway.

So you watch the dirty water cascade down his sharp, scarred shoulder. You eye how the gnarl of his bone adjusts as he lathers himself with soapsuds. He stretches to get his hair and his bicep tenses with the movement. He’s built, and built well. From years of survival, trekking through swamps not so different from these, and aiming guns in places he wanted to and places he didn’t. The way the sun flits through the rectangular windows makes him look golden.

You imagine how it’d feel to walk up behind him, to massage the knots out of his sore muscles. You don’t even notice it, but your hands are traveling your own body now, fingertips going to pluck at your pebbled nipples. He’d been rough when tussling with you in the swamp. Would he be rough with you in bed, too? In your mind, you run soft, open-mouthed kisses down his back, reaching your hand between his legs to wrap around his—

A clanging noise stops your hand in its tracks. You drop it limp at your side. A wave of revulsion crawls like insects up your back.

“Shit!” Joel says, fumbling around in his shower stall.

The plastic body wash dispenser goes sliding out under the curtain, foamy with soapsuds.

You can’t help it. You snort. And eventually, your snort becomes full-fledged laughter, breaking the seam of your lips as you lean against the wall of the shower.

“Shut up,” he says, but you hear the tinge of a chuckle embedded between his vowels. You hear his half-huff of laughter before you force yourself to stop giggling.

You two stay under the shower streams until the water runs cold and bitter and all of the mud that had banded around your limbs is congealed in the drain. 

You leave the showers first, roaming around until you find a discarded cardboard box that’s brimming with clothes in your size. There’s jeans that should do well in the elements and another tank top suited for the crushing heat. 

When you’re dressed, you call out to Joel that you’ll be in the yoga room. You spend the down time arranging the yoga mats into two separate mattresses. Joel’s feet will hang off a bit, but you imagine it’ll be better than sleeping on the floor.

Footsteps scrape from the doorway, and your head snaps up.

Joel Miller cleans up nice, it seems. He’s kept his boots, but apart from that, looks like a completely different person; his jeans now hug his hips tighter, his raggedy tee from earlier has been replaced with a form-fitting ribbed tank top. Any traces of mud, sweat, or gunk have been washed off his skin and down the drain. His hair hangs in wet stripes, sticking to his crinkled forehead.

You haven’t realized you’ve zone out until he’s waving a calloused hand in front of your face. “Hey, peach, anyone home?”

You clear your throat and replace it with a scowl. “Don’t call me that.” It’s deflection, and you know it. You think he knows it, too.

He gives you a funny look. “Uh huh,” he says. He taps his fingers along his hip bone. “Well, what the fuck are ya doin’?”

You furrow your brows at him. “Setting up camp…?”

“This is a shit camp to set up,” he says. “Stalkers in the parking garage, city I ain’t ever been in before? No, we need a vantage point.”

“And I assume you have one in mind?” you ask.

“Yeah, I do. ‘S a hotel, ‘lil further into town. Got three floors, we probably can block the stairwell from the inside to keep any raiders out.”

You nod and heft your backpack over your shoulder. It’s bulging from the extra clothes you’d stuffed into the bottom, and your arms are sore from the wrangling you’d given it after the collar of one of your new shirts jammed the zipper. 

Joel turns to stand guard at the door while you collect your stuff. You can’t seem to focus much on that, though, not with his ass practically at your eye level. The tighter denim definitely does him favors. You swallow the newfound lump in your throat and stuff your water flash into the side of your pack.

It has to be the lack of human connection. It’s been two weeks since you’ve seen anyone other than your captors, and the majority of this week since you’ve seen anyone other than Joel. Joel, who with every word, breath, movement, flinch, gets a rise out of you. Joel, who stirs the pot with you at every chance he gets. Joel, who almost certainly looks at you and sees a reflection of your father whom he hates.

He’d said so, early on.

This isn’t only one-sided. It’s a living, breathing disaster.

“‘S a hotel’ my ass, Joel, this place looks like a loaf of moldy bread.”

Joel insists on staying on the third floor. Says that the second floor is ‘too low’ and that being on the third floor poses a good choke point for any raiders or infected who might stumble upon your camp. He wants to ‘bottleneck’ any intruders, whatever the fuck that means.

The issue with the third floor? There’s mold. Everywhere. In the days after the outbreak, a leak must’ve happened somewhere in the pipes that bled through the ceiling and all over the top floor. None of the rooms you’ve checked have been left unscathed so far. It’s embedded into the rugs, the walls, the ceiling, all of it. At least it’s a good deterrent for the people that pass through. The infected, however? You have a feeling they’d be just at home.

“Would you shut the fuck up?” he says through his teeth. He pinches his nose bridge – he does that a lot, or maybe you just stress him out a lot – and glares at you.

“No, Joel. I’m fucking exhausted,” you hiss. “I’ve been roughing it with you all week, all you do is give me shit. The only thing this voyage of ours has taught me is that my dad has perfectly ample reason to hate your guts.” You’re closer to him now, knocking him back with your fist to your chest.

“Quit bein’ cute,” he scowls. “I’m the only reason your ass isn’t eyeball-deep in quicksand.”

“Yeah, and you’d be stalker food without me. So I guess we’re even, aren’t we, Joel?” You shove past him. “I’m just a way for you to pay off your stupid ‘debts’ anyway,” you mutter under your breath. He wasn’t protecting you, pulling you out of that damn pit. He was saving his own skin.

The hotel room door at the end of the hallway is slightly ajar. You lift your knife just in case, and step inside. 

It’s lacking the mold that the rest of the rooms have. People have definitely stayed in here before, what with the rumpled blankets left on the bed and a flashlight situated upright on the dresser. The thick layer of dust on the flashlight tells you that they never came back.

The room itself is satisfactory enough. Beige, almost green walls, close in at all sides. A cloudy mirror is hung by the window. Moonlight stipples the room. There’s a busted, corded phone on the nightstand that’s propped up on a Bible, a shattered nightlight, and a small table. You toss your pack onto the quilted bedspread and collapse onto the mattress. For an old, creaking thing with a busted spring or two, it’s still the most comfortable thing you think you’ve ever felt in your life. You sigh in relief and nuzzle into the pillow.

Joel clears his throat from the doorway.

“Find your own room, dipshit,” you say, nudging your pack off your bed with your knee. It thunks against the floor.

“I don’t think so.” He crosses his arms.

“I’m not sharing with you. You snore.”

“I don’t snore.”

“You do.”

You don’t have to look up to know he’s doing that thing where he pinches his nose bridge again. “You’re a fuckin’ piece ‘a work, kid, you know that?” You hear his pack drop against the ground. He drags a chair across the room and you cringe at how it squeals against the floor until he jams it under the doorknob. Then, the mattress dips.

You look at him sideways. “Get off my bed.”

“‘Your’ bed? You just discovered it two seconds ago.”

“Finders keepers.”

“Well I’m takin’ it from you. Losers weepers.”

You grit your teeth so hard you hear the bone scraping bone in your ears. 

“That’s now how this works–”

“We’re even now. You don’t wanna owe me one, and I sure as hell don’t wanna owe you one. So roll your ass over, act like an adult, and go to bed.”

You grouse under your breath, but with Joel, you have to pick and choose your battles. So you roll back over and wiggle yourself under the quilt, tucking your face into the musty pillow underneath you.

You sit in silence for a couple of minutes, staring at how the moon spills milky light along the alabaster ceiling. Then, you roll over again, stretching out the knicks in your back. Despite being the comfiest you’ve been in days, you’re feeling restless. You know Joel wouldn’t hurt you in any substantial way – you’re a bargaining chip to him. Nothing less, and certainly not anything more.

In spite of that, you find yourself drifting off with your face to him.

When Joel first wakes up, he thinks a clicker’s gnawing at his leg

Blinking the crust from his eyes, he realizes nothing’s gnawing on him at all. 

Rather, it’s you.

In your sleep, you’ve thrown your leg over his thigh. Your crotch is angled up against the bulk of his leg, a furnace that sears him through his jeans. Your head has dipped, forehead overheated and angled against the crux of his neck. If it were just that, he’d roll you over (maybe hard enough for you to crash on the floor) and hog the blankets for himself.

But you’re thrusting your fucking hips into him, letting out sleepy little whimpers while you fuck yourself on his leg. That explains why you’ve been acting dumber than a box of rocks. He oughta tan your hide for this. Bitching at him all week and really, you just need to get dicked down. Ironic, ain’t it.

He should still shove you off the bed. Call you a whore and leave you to rub your pussy raw in the bathroom instead of on his leg.

You give a particularly hard thrust, a keening little sound catching in the netting of your teeth. He swears you’re soaking through the denim.

He bites his tongue. The moonlight accentuates your closed eyes, your lashes fan out across your cheeks, there’s a cute little pinch in your lips as you unwittingly try to muffle the sounds coming out of you.

He can’t help himself. He raises his knuckles to your cheek and taps, taps, taps at the bone until your eyes startle open.

When you first wake up, you think you’re dying.

There’s a shortness of breath in your lungs. You feel like you’re being burned alive, your skin hot to the touch. You’re mummified in the crusty, flaky hotel sheets. Each intake of breath is musty and clings to your nostrils. You’re throbbing. Between the legs and elsewhere. Confusion puckers your brows. There’s slick between your legs — and Joel’s leg between your legs.

You tear away from him, making a disgruntled noise as the sheets tangle around your legs. His hand is raised to your face. There’s a moment where all you register is the judgmental squint in his dark eyes.

“What the fuck– you pervert,” you hiss, slapping him across the chest. A queasiness squiggles in your stomach as you inch your way back.

“Oh, no, peach. That was all you,” he drawls. He wraps his thick hand around your hipbone and pulls you back. You kick him in the shin, but there’s no real force behind it.

“Y-you’re lying,” you snarl. But a brief look at his lap tells you he’s not. He’s barely touting a semi, yet you’ve got the entire Mississippi River in your YMCA-issued panties.

Joel shakes his head at you. “‘S why you been actin’ up, you little shit? Just needed to get fucked?” He grips your hip so hard that it stings and hauls you against him. You tell yourself that the moan you let out is more of a hiss.

“I don’t– you’re making shit up, old man,” you say, squirming in his grip. You can’t help the way your hips sway at the tease of friction his knee gives you. You feel lightheaded, a freshly kindled bonfire.

“Am I?” Another squeeze to your hip. “Don’t look like it.” He notches his knee tighter against your swollen cunt, and your head dips forward as you bite into your lower lip. “Look’s like I’ve got a ‘lil slut more worked up than a hornets’ nest that spent all night rubbing her needy fuckin’ pussy on my leg.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and whine.

“Jus’ say the word, peach. I’ll do ya real good. Make that ache go away.” He rubs his thumb in a circle along your skin. The calloused pad of his thumb slips underneath the hem of your tank top, a lit match dragging along your skin.

“I don’t think you have it in you, Miller,” you say. But your voice gives you away. It’s breathy, coarsened by your sleep-stained, lust-stained rasp.

“Yeah? Well I didn’t think you had it in you to be humpin’ this ‘old man’s’ leg, but ya learn something new everyday.” He doesn’t grind his knee into your cunt — more so wedges it up. Pain blurs a watercolor line with pleasure as your back arches. His hand drifts from your midriff to your thigh, arm hooking around it so he can heft you up against his thigh proper. You grunt as you end up chest to chest with him. Your hips rock into his, guided by the North Star of his hands clutching at your hips. “Can feel ya,” he says. “Drippin’ all over me.”

You grind your teeth, digging your fingers into his shoulders. He groans as your nails claw at the skin there. “Shut the fuck up so I can pretend you’re someone else.”

He chuckles. “You can play pretend all you want, but I’m the one you’re soaking, ain’t I?”

You make an aggravated sound. Your left hand drags down his arm, leaving angry red tracks in their wake. Before he can gripe about it, you slap your right hand over his mouth. His eyes flare. Eye for an eye, his teeth sink into the flesh of your palm. You hiss at the sting. It only makes you pump your hips against him faster. The friction of your shorts and panties against the bulk of his leg and the wrinkle of his denim jeans makes your clit twitch against him.

Your flesh stretches as you tug it from his teeth. Your hand plants itself in his hair instead, dragging his head to the side. His eyes flutter, lidded and dark. “Don’t act like you don’t damn near cream yourself when I talk to you like this. You like being told what a nasty. Fuckin’. Slut. You are. Don’t look at me like that. You are. Been cruisin’ for a bruisin’ this whole time — just didn’t know you were after a pussy beating instead of a real one.”

Your eyes roll back. Your hips roll more languidly, only jerking when Joel gives a particularly brutal tug at your waist. You let out a pathetic moan into his neck. You nip at the skin there, tongue laving over the scars and blemishes he’s collected over the years. He reaches down and grabs a handful of your ass, groaning. “Too pretty to be actin’ a fool, baby.”

You dig your teeth into his neck, hard enough to leave cavernous bite marks in your wake. Your tongue digs through the craters your teeth left behind, saliva pulling from your lips to his skin. He smacks your ass hard enough for your hips to jerk, and you almost glare at him as you separate from your throat. Instead, your eyes squeeze shut.

“Don’t wanna look at me, do ya peach? Mmmm, well thas’ okay.” He fists his hand in the roots of your hair and tugs your head to the side. You hear Joel groping at the nightstand in the dark, and then the flashlight ticks on.

Your eyes blink open to yourself reflected in desilvered glass. Mirror rot surrounds your luminescent face, but most of all, you can see your hips and how they rock shallowly into Joel’s leg. “Watch yourself fuckin’ yourself stupid on my leg,” he croons in your ear. When you go still, his thumbs press hard into your skin. You stare at him. “You already fucked yourself stupid or somethin’? ‘S a simple instruction, sweet cheeks.”

“That’s dumb, Joel–” you sneer, going to look away.

He jerks your head back to where he had it and rocks his leg into your clit. You watch your face contort around a ragged moan. Pleasure thrashes through your system. “C’mon, you’re a dirty girl. Watch how pathetic you look while you get yourself off. Pretend I’m your pillow if you have to, but it ain’t gonna change how I’m the one gettin’ you off like this.”

Your thighs clamp around his. He smirks at you in the mirror. Your knee grazes his bulge, and a breathy moan loosens from his lips. “Two way street, Miller,” you say. But you’re weak — and so, so wet.

You give your hips a languid roll, watching yourself in the mirror. You’re a mess, mouth parted, eyes lidded, skin slick with sweat. Your hips shudder and start against him as you start to properly buck yourself against the meat of his thigh. With the shelves of your teeth, you try to smother the depraved noises coming out of you. Joel rolls his eyes.

“Gonna wake the fuckin’ dead with all that whining of yours.” Mid-moan, Joel shoves two fingers into your mouth and pries your jaw open. His fingers are bulky and ridged with callouses against your tongue. His thumb presses a dent into your jaw. “‘S okay, baby. I like ‘em loud.”

“I like you shutting the fuck up,” you say around a mouthful of his knuckles. You can’t help it. You bite at his fingers, not hard enough to hurt, but definitely hard enough to sting. He hisses and presses down on your tongue. You make a sputtering noise.

“You were sayin’?” he asks, tensing his thigh. You whimper against his fingertips. He tightens his grip on your hair, and in the mirror, you see yourself bared raw for him to see in all ways but the physical. You rut into his leg with increasing need.

“Mmmph, Joel–” you say around his fingers. 

“Oh, now you’re moaning my name? What was it I said? Cruisin’ for a bruisin’, peach.”

Wetness leaks down the insides of your thighs. Your swollen clit hitches on a wrinkle in his jeans. You’re shaking, thighs trembling where they’re wrapped around him. Your fingers grapple for purchase and find some anchored in his hair, tugging wildly. You eye yourself in that damn mirror, the way your chest is slotted against his, how your hips pitch into his over and over again in your pursuit of release.

“Ask for it, baby.” Joel grinds his leg up into your cunt. “You wanna come on me, you gotta ask for it.”

You shake your head wildly. You aren’t a beggar — especially not for Joel Miller. You’d rather throw yourself back into quicksand. Jump in front of a clicker. Step on an alligator.

Joel pouts mockingly at you. “Stubborn for a slut who’s willin’ to spread it open all hours ‘a the day.” You rub your knee into his bulge, tenting his jeans, in hopes that it’ll be a suitable distraction. He groans, knee jerking. His thigh rams against you, and your back arches. You see your brows pucker in your reflection, your hips undulating against him.

“F-fuck,” you whine out, bouncing against him.

“You wanna come, don’t you, peach?” You nod frantically. “Wanna soak me, huh?” At that, you grit your teeth and snarl at him. You do you do you do. But you don’t want to admit it.

You squirm on his leg, desperately rocking into him. You dig your feet into the creaking mattress, fisting your hands into the fabric of his shirt. Tremors wrack your body as you work yourself on him. Your cunt flutters, and you almost taste your orgasm.

Joel tosses you off of him.

“You son of a–” you shriek, thrashing and out of breath. Your clit throbs and your hole twitches at the stolen promise of release. You bounce on the mattress, sprawled on your back and twitching.

“I told ya,” he says. “Gotta ask for it.”

“I’m not asking you for shit, asshole–”

“Yeah, yeah, you’ll change your tune when I stuff your right full.” He grabs you by the back of your shirt and coaxes you into spinning around. He yanks you onto all fours, forehead meeting the mattress.

You back your hips up as he reaches around your shorts for the button. The zipper squeals as it comes down and he shuffles them down your legs. He nudges your knees apart. You can feel his bulge, insistent and pressed against the back of your thigh. He grips the inside of your thigh, fingers sliding through the slick that’s there.

“Shit, baby,” he groans. “No wonder you were humpin’ me. Just needing someone to take away that ache, don’t you? Jus’ a horny girl wanting to go cock dumb.” His fingers graze over your clit, barely even a brush, and you let out a mangled sound into the comforter. “See? So desperate and sensitive. You’re cute when you’re not a pain in the ass.”

“That makes one of us,” you say.

Joel snorts. “She’s got jokes.” He rubs a circle into your clit, and then another, and all you can do is rock your hips into his hand. Impatient, you brace yourself on your elbow so you can reach behind him and fumble with his belt buckle. Joel laughs under his breath, working at the zipper while you undo the buckle. It chimes as his belt falls loose and his pants slump on his hips. You work the button open. 

You wriggle your hand into his briefs and pull him out, giving him a series of quick pumps. Joel grunts. “Just like that, peach. Fuck, yeah, you know what you’re doin’.”

He teases the tips of his fingers at your entrance. Razor sharp want slices up the insides of your warm thighs as you clench and drip more of your wetness along his hand. “I’ll throw you a bone,” Joel says. Then, with no warning, he slips a finger into your warmth and curls it just right. You claw against the sheets, whimpering.

“Nasty thing.” He hooks his finger and you fully mewl. Heat rushes into your cheeks. “Barely gotta do anythin’ to get you writhing and wanting.”

Warm tears brim at your eyes from the heady, deadly mix of arousal and hatred. Your cunt tightens around his finger, and without warning, he pushes another one in, twisting and hooking them brutally inside of you.

Your fingers fist in the sheets, temple pressed into the mattress. You can see the cocksure look on his face in the mirror, the way his forearm flexes with each thrust into you. “Fuck me already,” you spit. You know it’ll hurt if he fucks you without really preparing you. You want it to hurt. You want it to ache like the tread of his boot stamped on your chest. You want it to sting and simmer like the cuts that the wetlands left in a collage across your arms and legs. You want him to split you open and leave you flayed by your own pleasure.

“Alright, alright,” he says as he pulls his fingers out of you. He gives your clit a light slap that makes you squeal. You almost black out when you see him bring his slick-stained fingers to his mouth and suck. “Yeah, taste as sweet as a peach, dontcha sugar? Such a tasty little cunt for such a smart-mouthed brat.”

You could cry with how bad you want hi— no, his cock. 

“Gonna hurt, baby. But you want it to, don’t you? Wanna feel me all up in here.” He roams his free hand across your stomach, then back around to your ass where he tugs you back. There’s the smack of flesh as your hips meet each other, the whimper between your netted teeth as he nestles his cock between your slippery folds. You nod, head slinging forward. “Don’t gotta tell me. I know ya do. Girl like you, always such a smartass. Yeah, you want it rough.” His voice is gruff, lust-addled. “Act stupid all you want, peach. I got you all figured out.”

He slots his head against your hole and you let out a strangled noise into the mattress. Your vision swims as he pushes into you, thumbs dug into your ass cheeks so he can watch how you take him. You mewl, back arching into and away from him at the same time. Your body can’t decide where to go. If it wants to be further, or as close as possible to him. Joal groans as he sinks into you.

“Tight as a fuckin’ hose pipe, peach,” he says. He reaches around to give your flick your clit — a move that makes your entire body spasm. 

“So about as small as your dick, then?” It’s bullshit — you know it, and he knows it. He’s not even fully inside of you, but the difference is startling. He’s stuffing you to the brim, leaving you to scrabble and claw against the sheets.

He slams into you, a blatant disregard of your comfort. You feel his balls smack against your clit, and hear the same thigh you’d been humping slot against your own. A ragged cry rips from your throat. “Joel,” you whimper, hips trying to writhe against the bed. “Joel, fuck—”

“Feels pretty big now, don’t it?” You whine, petulant, but it breaks off into a moan as he pulls back and then punches back into you.

All you can do is take it, take it, take it as he bashes your swollen cunt with his fat cock. You gasp raggedly, each snap of his hip bringing pleasure-pain tears to your eyes. Joel’s nails dig into the meat of your ass and yank you back on him. The sting is renewed, then, as he props his leg up on the bed and pounds into you. You whimper, helpless to his whims.

Between one thrust and the next, the bite in your cunt turns into a thrum of pleasure. A persistent swarm of heat and your own slick leaking down his cock. “Like I said,” Joel grunts as he fucks you. “A nasty fuckin’ slut with a sloppy ‘lil cunt.”

You whine, squeezing around him. Your head spins. “Fuck,” he spits.

“Joel, please, please, ple–”

“Quit beggin’, it ain’t ladylike.” You prop yourself up on your elbow and reach behind him, tugging his wrist away from your ass so you can slip his hand between your thighs. His pistoning into you falters. “What’d I say?” Joel grunts. His knees adjust over the backs of your calves to hold you down.

“Keep touching me,” you whine. “Please, you asked me to ask for it, so I’m fucking asking for it.”

“Told you to ask permission, not cry at me like a kicked puppy,” he says. “I call the shots here. Like it or not.” He goes to yank his hand away from your clit, but you yank at his knuckle.

Joel scowls, and so fast you might get vertigo, his other arm’s bicep locks around your neck and heaves you back against his chest. You sputter, drool pooling in your mouth. Your hands briefly tug at his arm, but fall limp when he says, “Oh, shut the fuck up, I ain’t gonna kill ya. Gotta keep you on your toes, peach.”

You arguably shouldn’t. But you trust him. Enough to keep you alive, at least.

With another thrust into the warm vise of your cunt, your body’s running hotter than an engine and twice as fast. He squeezes tight enough that your air is in short supply, and with it, everything is amplified. Pleasure crinkles through your body like crumpled aluminum foil, serrated and clinging to you. The crook of his elbow is warm, and you can’t help your head lolling back to give him a look that’s purely salacious. He tips his head down at you and smirks.

“Yeah, that’s my hungry little cockwhore,” he says. With his free hand, he tugs your hair. You seize around him, struggling for what to hang onto. You let out a rasping, strangled moan. With your head tipped back, you can see the tilt to his lips as he moans, feel his scruff scraping at your forehead. “Takin’ it like you were made for it. Shit.”

Joel moans as you clamp down around him again.

Tears might be sliding down your cheeks – you don’t know. You’re too trapped in this, in this moment, in the feeling of his cock slamming into your throbbing, aching cunt. “Mmph,” you whine low in your throat as he fucks up into you. He’s damn near bruising your cervix. Each thrust makes your cunt flitter around him. 

“You look good like this,” Joel grunts against your ear, using the leverage of his propped-up leg to bounce you on his cock. “All quiet ‘n sweet ‘n whorish. Goddamn, never thought a slut could feel this fuckin’ tight.”

Your eyes slip shut, vision spotting behind your eyelids. He keeps forcing himself into you. Making room. Making a mark that you’ll never forget he carved into you.

Your body is limp as he gets himself off, his hand moving from your hair. He gropes at your tits, flicking your nipple in a way that draws a sloping moan out of you. He slides it down your side, each callous bumping against your skin until he reaches your clit. You nod wildly, and he chuckles into the shell of your ear. “You think you’ve earned it? All you’ve been doing is whinin’ like a little bitch, baby.” He taps his fingers against your clit, once, twice, mounting the tautness of the tension drawn tight like elastic through your body. You gasp down air as he ever so slightly loosens his grip around your neck. He keeps thrusting into you, jerking tiny moans out of you as he does.

Your legs tremble. Your brain feels like mush. You wring his cock with each strain of your pussy. “I don’t want you,” you gasp out between thrusts. “I want you for what you can — fuck — give me. So I guess… that makes… us even. Doesn’t it?” Joel’s finger stills where it hovers over your clit, and you almost don’t notice the falter in his hips with how subtle it is.

“Yeah,” Joel pants. “Guess it does, peach.”

He presses his thumb down on your clit and the whole world makes sense.

You cry out as your juices soak his cock, dripping down his balls and thighs. “Joel, Joel, Joel, Joel,” you chant in between moans. He’s holding you up now by the underside of one of your arms, his fingers toying with your nipples. Each touch sends laser hot electricity between your legs.

He slams up into you again and you shriek. “Fuck, you’re a mess,” Joel says. “All stuffed full ‘a me… yeah, that’s how you’re s’posed to be. Sprayin’ your pussy juices all over me while I ram my cock into this drippy little hole.”

You whine, clit twitching against his finger. Tears burn at the edges of your eyes like fire on parchment. “I wanna come,” you whisper, voice tinged with need. “Please, Joel. I–”

“Who do you want to make you come?” he asks as he rolls his hips up into you. An undulating pace that makes you want to scream.

The curdling pleasure in your stomach brims, stews, steeps. You’re drowning in it, in the fire lashing through your body. Fire that he lit and stoked and now, only he can put out. “You, Joel!” you cry out. “You! I want you to make me come, please, I need it, I want t-”

“I got you, peach,” he says. He mashes the pad of his thumb against your swollen nub, rubbing circles, circles, circles. You scream this time, head slumping against him. “Throbbin’ for it,” he growls out. “All swollen and whinin’ like you’re in heat. You needed this. Needed me.”

“I needed you,” you nod, exhaling. You think you’d agree to anything he said right now. “Fuck,” you wail. Your hands anchor themselves on his forearm.

“Don’t fight it, baby, don’t fight it,” he coos. Your nails scratch angry red tracks down his burly arms. “Come on me, see if it gives you an attitude adjustment.”

To your chagrin, that does it.

Your orgasm shatters you. You’re fragile as it tears through your body, tying knots around your racing heart and making your legs quiver. You feel yourself gush around Joel’s cock, gasping for air as your lungs empty. Your cunt flutters around him as pleasured tears spill from the corners of your eyes. Everything’s hot and melting, your arousal dripping out of you in droves. Joel rubs at your clit through it, coaxing in your ear, “That’s it, theeeeere it is. Shit, baby, I’m comin’— squeezin’ me so damn good—”

Joel twitches inside of you, and you whine at his absence when he pulls out just in time. With a throaty, reverberating groan, he sprays the small of your back with his cum. You gasp as it splashes against you, your chest heaving against his hand. 

You sit in the silence, high off of the come down, panting in delirium. 

Joel clears his throat. “You alright, peach?”

“You don’t have to pretend to like me now that we’ve had sex, Joel,” you say. “I get it. We fucked. We got it out of our systems. Hooray. Do you want me to pop some confetti poppers?”

“I was being courteous, goddamn,” he grunts as he stands up. You watch as he tugs his jeans back up. “Clearly ain’t nobody ever treated you gentlemanly before.”

“Says the man who got off on choking me out.”

He shoots back, “The feeling was mutual, if I remember five minutes ago correctly. I ain’t that old.” He buckles his belt up. As he redresses, you toss your own shorts off to the side. He’s already been in your whole pussy — you’d rather not sleep in the denim shorts.

When you’re done, you give him a look.

He pinches his nose bridge and sighs through his teeth. “We oughta hit the hay. Long day ahead. And you should be too exhausted by now to be wakin’ me up again.”

You clench your fists at your side. “Fine.”

You reach for his flashlight and turn it off.

Reunion Tower is the first building you see.

Dallas. Home sweet home, for better or worse.

The skyline slowly eases up and out of the treeline as you and Joel meander up the car-cluttered I-20. Remnants from a life that’s long gone, all but skeletons with the organs of another time.

You and Joel have scarcely talked. Mostly, it’s just him pointing out directions. But he does other things. He helps you through wreckage or rubble instead of leaving you to muscle through on your own. He gives you part of his rations. He tosses you a magazine he finds in a store. He keeps watch.

You had meant what you said. You fucked. That was that. He was still the man your father told ghost stories about. The thoughtless killer. The unforgiving bullet to a skull. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of peoples’ deliverance to the afterlife. The man who’d betrayed your father all those years ago, a story of which you only know the vague specifics of.

Maybe you’ll ask him while he’s on bedrest from that bullet wound. (Or maybe you’ll just ask him. He’s not the sort of man to stay down for long.)

Regardless, as you two cross the exit a couple blocks from your dad’s base, you ask him, “Do you think he sent people after me?”

“Maybe,” Joel says. “Probably went up to Oklahoma instead. Louisiana ain’t famous for bein’ easy hikin’ material. Shocker that them Cockroaches brought you all the way out there.”

You nod and kick a rock with the toe of your shoe. “You think your group’s doing good on their own?”

“Who fuckin’ knows,” Joel says. “Left Tommy in charge of the place, I’ll be lucky if it ain’t burned down by now.”

“Well, you’ve got a whole new world ahead of you. Free of debts and all. Maybe my dad will finally get off your ass. Could skip town, if you wanted.”

Joel’s feet drag on the concrete. You watch him out of the corner of your eye as he scratches the back of his neck. “There were never any debts, peach,” he says.

Your brows furrow as you stop in your tracks. “The fuck do y—”

“Got you of my own volition,” he says. “Your dad and I might be on shit terms, but that don’t mean I don’t care about him. I…” He pauses. “I know what it’s like to lose people.”

“Everyone does,” you say.

“Yeah,” Joel nods. He turns to make eye contact with you. “Everyone does. But I don’t exactly wanna go about losin’ you,” he says.

“That’s a bold claim, Miller,” you say.

“You’re good company. Even if you’re a shitass.” He pats you on the shoulder. His hand slides down your arm to your hand, and he gives it a squeeze before letting it drop. “Now c’mon. Let’s get you home.”

[gay-dorito-dust]

Would they or would they not catch you…

Dick: yes. 100% yes but he’s -no pun intended- a little bit of a teasing dick about it.

He will catch you but then act as though he’s going to drop you by loosening his grip, making you scream out of surprise and cling onto him tighter, all the while beaming that bright and beautiful smile of his as though he wasn’t about to willingly let you fall flat on your ass on multiple occasions.

‘I fucking hate you!’ You whined, smacking Dick on the bicep.

‘Oh do you now?’ Dick inquires as he slowly begins to losses his grip on you, smirking.

‘Did I say hate you? I meant love you, a lot! Please don’t drop me.’ You cried as you tightened your grip on his neck whilst struggling to keep your feet from touching the floor. ‘Awww I love you too gorgeous.’ Dick coos as he pressed kisses into your face as you could only glare at the cheeky bastard.

You hate him sometimes but you weren’t going to complain about the affection you were being given. So you guess you’ll suffer for now.

Side note: he might even try and see if you can catch him. 💀

Jason: He will catch you but makes it a big deal whenever he can. He loves holding you in his arms.

He could keep you in his arms forever if he could but knew that he can’t, so he settles for going about his day carrying you throughout the apartment instead.

‘You can put down any day now.’ You’d tell him but that only makes Jason tighten his grip on you as he moved in his makeshift library for a book to read.

‘No.’ He simply replied, scouring the many book titles in front of him in the hopes that one might speak to him. You pout. ‘What do you mean no?’ Jason then looks at you and says. ‘No means no. As in no I will not put you down because I do as I like and will not be told otherwise, so the cutie currently in my arms has to deal with it.’ He then smiles as he presses a kiss to your forehead before looking back towards the bookshelves.

You end up falling asleep in his arms and Jason couldn’t help but smile at how cute you were, even if you did look like the living dead.

Damian: says no but will in fact catch you without hesitation.

However if you do try to tease him about it, then he will drop you without a second thought. ‘You can catch yourself next time.’ He would say as he walks away, leaving you with a bruised ass. Titus -who saw the whole thing- would come up to you to make sure you weren’t genuinely hurt and encourage you to get up by nudging you with his head.

Don’t test him because he will do it and then act like the whole thing didn’t happen if you were to bring it up.

‘Dick.’ You’d say as you stood up.

‘I heard that.’ He’d call back, his voice echoing off the walls. ‘You were meant to.’ You reply. ‘And at least Titus came to check up on me to see if I wasn’t hurt.’ You’d add while scratching Titus behind the ear.

Needless to say you were more cautious when choosing Damian to catch you. However he does apologise for dropping you on your ass by gifting you something he himself drew by hand; He secretly doesn’t like it when you’re upset with him and will do anything to rectify it.

What a sweetheart.

Bruce: he’s too use to you pulling this type of shit that it’s basically muscle memory for him to catch you as you’re running towards him, all with a straight face mind you.

Be grateful because he risked a much needed bowl of Mulligatawny soup just to catch you in his arms, but then again the kisses you bombard his cheek is more than reward enough, a small almost missable smile appears on his lips as he then proceeds to carry you for the rest of the day as “punishment.”

( this only occurs when Bruce is feeling particularly affectionate or playful)

Much to your batkids -Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian, Duke, Cass and Steph- dismay. They’d want to use this as blackmail, but they know that it will backfire as you’ll probably hang the photo on a wall somewhere in the manor, reminding them of how disgustingly their parents can be when given the opportunity.

[loveanddeepdick]

nerd!nanami halloween edition

batman & catwoman

nerd!nanami who helps you into your costume. it was supposed to be a surprise but there was so much tight latex you had no choice but to ask him for help. gojo had invited you to his annual halloween party in his penthouse and nanami reluctantly accepted the invitation.

“honey.. are you sure this thing is made for.. humans? it looks like a medieval torture method,” nanami grunts as he pulls the latex up your legs, “are you in any pain—shit! are you in any pain, dear?”

“no, no, kenny! just get it on my arms and we’re all done!”

“i might have to oil you up, dear..” he chuckles wholeheartedly before he pauses, realizing his innuendo.

“… okay ken,” you giggle, slapping his arm.

nerd!nanami who finally gets the whole costume on you after another hour while his batman costume only took a max of five minutes to pull on.

“i think i look silly, dear,” he runs his hands over his hair before putting on the black mask, his face dwarfing the spirit halloween accessory. he was just ginormous in all ways.

“you don’t look silly! i think you look very handsome,” you smile, rubbing a hand over his biceps under the black shirt. he refused to wear anything too silly, opting for a black batman shirt and black sweats along with the mask.

you two stood before your bathroom mirror as you giggle excitedly at the sight. you whipped out your phone, taking what seemed like a thousand photos of him before you two left for gojo’s halloween party.

nerd!nanami who tries his hardest to hide his boner at the party. he was a reasonable man, of course he let you go have fun and party with your friends. but that didn’t stop him from keeping a possessive eye on you.

he couldn’t believe it. his girlfriend. his catwoman. he used to pray for a day like this to come. he had to pinch himself to realize it wasn’t a dream and that you were indeed real, a goddess in his eyes.

nerd!nanami who doesn’t last for another thirty minutes seeing you in that costume, pulling you to a guest bedroom in gojo’s penthouse where you two usually stayed if you crashed there.

you gasped as he pressed you down against the bed.

“hold on, kenny i’ll just—“

you try to take off the panted pants yourself until your hear a loud stretch and a rubbery rip. you shriek, eyes widen as you look back and he’s got the spandex in two pieces, baring your thighs and pussy to him.

“please, honey.. i need you now,” nanami groaned, pushing his hand along your back to guide you back onto your stomach.

gojo’s sheets were always cotton, thank god. they’d be easy to wash after this.

nerd!nanami who has your head pushed into the pillows as he plows your pussy from the back, spanking your ass to watch them move like water.

“fffuck, baby.. you feel so good”

nanami groaned as he leaned forward, angling deeper inside you as his cock reached what seemed like you stomach.

“kennnn.. so big!”

“shh, shh i know, i know, baby, just take it,” he grunted as he felt you clench at his words, reaching down to rub your clit as he watched you drool onto the pillow.

“i-im gonna—ah! i’m gonna!”

“you’re gonna what, honey? use your words”

“i’m gonna cum, kennnn”

he was never the one to tease you or enjoy watching you like this, but something inside him snapped when he watched you stumble over your words, whining to try to find your sense of mind when you went dumb on his cock.

“cum for me, baby, c’mon, i know you”

“fffuck! ken!”

your pussy held his cock like a vice and shit, thank god he wasn’t batman cause he would never be saving the world since he has you waiting at home.

he shot thick, creamy ropes of cum deep into your pussy, warmth filling you up as you sighed contently. he pulled out, admiring you for a minute, watching as his cum spilled out. he was about to get up to clean you until he saw you subtly wiggle your hips, the sight of your plump ass, your ruined pussy, your legs only half covered in spandex, fuck it only made him hard again.

he leaned in, spreading you open, watching your gaping, twitching holes before licking a stripe over them as you shivered

“honey, how about i clean you up, hm?”

[fairy-angel222]

For @s0dium ‘s 10k+ event!! Congrats lovely 💗💗

Kenma can be so mean when you’re needy. Crawling onto his lap while he’s playing his game and whining desperately into his chest. “Ken.. need you.” You mewl, rutting your hips onto his thigh with a whimper.

He only stares down at you for a split second. Shaking his head to fight the smirk threatening to fall onto his face. “I just fucked you.”

“Want more.” You huff, arms reaching up to wrap around his shoulders with your face in his neck. Letting out a soft moan when he teasingly shifted his thigh under your clit.

“You’re fucking greedy ya know that? Always want some cock.” Pulling off his headset before kicking his chair away from his desk. His long fingers curling into your hair to pull your head back, muffling your surprised yelp with his lips on yours.

You moaned into the kiss, your hands falling to his front to fist at his shirt as his tongue latched roughly onto yours. Your eyes having already fluttered shut as your hips involuntarily rolled in small circles on his lap. You panted heavily when he pulled away, a lewd string of spit connecting your swollen lips as his head tilted towards the bed. “Go.”

You eagerly did what you were told. Your boyfriend scoffing at the wet spot on his sweats from your lack of underwear. “All i did was kiss you and your pussy’s already dripping.” Stalking up to the edge of the bed with a short nod. “Turn around.”

And you did, back arching as you put your ass on display for him. Short skirt flipping onto your back when you let your chest lay flat against his sheets.

“So fucking eager,” He groaned, palming your ass with his large hands as his cock hardened. Using his fingers to knead into the supple flesh before spreading your cheeks with a breathy chuckle. Your folds sticking to each other with how wet you were. “Fuck.”

Kenma swallowed hard, the sight of your sopping cunt making his cock throb. Especially when you were whimpering so adorably for him on top of it.

You whined loudly, attempting to push back onto him with the small wiggle of your ass. Squealing into the air when his hand landed down roughly instead. “Have some fucking patience yeah?”

You shivered when his fingers ran down your slit, the loss of his touch being short lived when you felt them being replaced by his cock. You moaned, feeling him bury himself deep inside you with a groan of his own. The stretch of your pussy to take his girth only adding to your pleasure when he began fucking into you slowly.

“Ahh.. f-faster.” You gasped, feeling his tip kissing your g spot perfectly as his pace grew harsher.

“You come sit on me all whiny, rub yourself all over my thigh, take me out from my game.” He grunted, “You’ll take whatever I choose to give you.”

You could only cry out in response when he quickened his pace regardless. Hips snapping roughly into your rear as he slammed himself in and out. Your eyes welling with tears as you babbled dumbly, body rocking back and forth with each mean thrust.

“F-fuck, you’re so— ahhh.” You couldn’t think, and it took no time for you to crumble under his merciless pace. He was fucking you so good, so deep. You were so fucking full and he was giving you no time to adjust to each thrust.

You loved it.

Kenma grinned, “Aren’t you the one who wanted me to speed up baby?” His hand reaching to snake around the back of your neck. Pushing you even further into the mattress with a grunt. “So fucking take it.”

“O-oh god, ‘s so g-good. So fucking good.” You cried, your fists gripping tightly onto the sheets near your head as you drooled. Lips parted in high pitched mewls when your stomach tightened, feeling yourself being pushed closer and closer to the brink of orgasm.

“Pussy’s sucking me in like she doesn’t wanna let go. She’s as greedy for cock as you are,” he breathed, head falling back with a shuddered moan when you clenched down at his words. “Shit- gonna milk me dry if i keep giving in.”

His words were incomprehensible. Your mind foggy as it focused on the rhythmic torture to your sweet spot.

“K-kennn, ‘m gonna cum. Please can i cum?” You were so close, body trembling with the curl of your toes as the building orgasm.

“Hold it.”

You almost sobbed, shaking your head as you pulled your body forward. “C-can’t. Needa cumm.”

His hands flew to the small of your waist, pulling you back roughly on his cock to continue his torture. “I said hold it.”

You wailed, tears flowing freely as you tried to keep it in. Chanting out an apology as your eyes rolled back, legs shaking uncontrollably as you made a mess on his cock. “‘M sorryyy.”

He watched as your slick dripped onto his bed. Your noises only increasing in volume at the overstimulation when he began using your hips to fuel his thrusts.

“Only know how to follow instructions till you get what you want.” His palm landing down on your ass with a small scoff. “I change my mind baby, you can cum. And you’re gonna cum until i say you can stop.”

He tried to act unaffected by his first release. The way his body trembled as his abs tensed. Letting out a string of inaudible moans as his jaw slackened. Eyes closing shut as he shakily pumped you full of cum.

Pulling out to watch the substance drip out of you in thick spurts. A groan sounding in his throat when he spread your folds for a better view. Watching you cry out when he pinched your clit meanly. “Pussy looks so much better filled with my cum.”

You felt your body going limp. Letting out a contented sigh as you lay there leaking cum.

“Uh uh, turn around. We’re not finished.”

Fuck.

[shawtuzi]

“o—ohhh fuck ‘renny!” you pink pedicured toes curled in ecstasy as eren slipped inside the tightness of your pussy in one go, the veins and ridges on his dick rubbing deliciously against your walls. eren let out a deep growl, his forehead falling against your shoulder, the baby hairs from his disheveled bun tickling your cheek. “s-stop squeezing me so fucking tight y/n, goddamn,” his nostrils flared, bicep tightening around your throat the tiniest bit.

he had you on your tummy, your head smushed between his arm and bicep while he took you from behind. the lack of oxygen on top of the fact that you both smoked beforehand had your head spinning. “i can’t he—help it ren m’sorryyy,” your pouting lips pressed against his arm, giving it little kisses. how cute.

eren pulled out halfway before slamming back in, his hips grinding against your ass. his strokes were nice n’ deep, his swollen tip bumping against that squishy spot that had you gasping for air. you were so soft and warm he almost didn’t wanna pull out, wanting to bask in your essence all night long. “r-ren i *hiccup*—”

“i know, baby, i knowww. hurts so good doesn’t it?”

you let out a pathetic ‘uh huhhh’, drool slipping past your lips and onto his tatted forearm. you couldn’t quite find the words to say to him, but that’s okay!! whenever he had you like this eren always did the thinking for you.

your backside pushed against his front, meeting his thrusts halfway. “thas’ right baby c’mon, fuck me back. show me how much you wanna cum,” eren slurred into your ear, his tongue lolling out to lick the shell of out. you shivered, tears slipping freely from your already bloodshot eyes.

“wanna cum so bad renny, y-you’re gonna—hah, finish in—inside right?” you were sure you’d burst into uncontrollable sobs if he denied you of the sweet feeling of filling you up with his warm cum. eren clenched his jaw impossibly tight, his dick throbbing painfully hard from your dirty mouth.

“mmph, don’t worry baby. after tonight you’re gonna be dripping my cum for days, i promise princess,” his free hand hooked two fingers in your mouth, his balls tightening when you immediately started swirling your tongue around the digits. “thounds like a dweam,” you panted against his fingers, your eyes now fluttering shut.

“uhn uhn, look at me y/n. wanna see your face when i make your pretty pussy cum,” it took all the strength you had to open your eyes and turn your head to the side but it was all worth it to see the fucked out, yet oh so slick smile on eren’s face. “tho pretty,” you moaned, nibbling on his knuckles.

embarrassingly enough you calling eren pretty had the coil in his tummy snapping, his hips snapping against your one more time as he came inside of you. his orgasm triggered your own, a symphony of moans leaving your kiss swollen lips—very loudly might i add bc eren’s a little shit and pressed down on your tongue to open your mouth wider.

“mm you like being called pretty renny?”

“shut up please.”

[ervotica]

Imagine this: youre in college, and after all those boring classes you come to your job at the donaldsons that includes riding him in the couch for as long as your legs allow you.

Tashi just coming home to thats sight and just making herself a afternoon drink unbotherd.

Dbsnhxhsb

omg shut up???🥲

warnings; all smut not much plot, older!art, so much potential for this series aghhh

a/n; art is an ear freak i literally feel it in my balls he loves it when u suck on them ears (he did it to tashi so he likes doing it to others too <3)

the front door clicks and you wander through, in this teensy little white tennis dress that art told - no, commanded - you to wear when you came to work. the dress that shows the strain of your hard nipples through the fabric, swollen into points like diamonds, the one that slips upward and reveals the perky swells of your ass, the barely covered seam of your pussy when you trounce up to him, chirruping nonsense and smiling at him like he’s the only man in the world.

he murmurs something indiscernible - a pleased noise that reverberates at the back of his throat - and you lean over the back of the couch, sliding your manicured fingers across the expanse of his chest, chin tucked to his neck.

“hi.”

“hi, baby,” he murmurs in that low, rasping way that turns your insides molten.

fast forward no more than ten minutes, and you’re both bare, art’s thick fingers curled round your waist as he uses you as a fleshlight, lifting you up and down like a ragdoll and watching, entranced, as your cunt flares and parts for his thick cock; you sob and babble, slumped forward against his chest, nails digging into porcelain skin, teeth scraping along art’s cheekbone.

“i know, baby. i know,” he grunts, and you’ve never heard a sound like it. your cunt clenches, a soft silk wrap around his cock, and he’s turning his head to suck at the corner of your mouth, all spit and drool and tongue, so much of it that it drips from your chin, globs of it pooling between your tits.

the front door clicks and you’re both too lost in each other to care as tashi comes through the living room and enters the kitchen; art hooks one of his huge hands under the crease of your knee, lifting your leg until it’s draped over his forearm, bracing his feet against the leather of the couch as he jackrabbits up into you. you make a sound somewhere between a moan and a scream, and then tashi’s figure is crossing by you once more, drink in hand, lithe fingers nudging at your jaw to examine your expression. she bends at the waist, pinches your pert little nipple and rolls the bud between her fingertips, and smirks - fucking smirks - as your pussy clamps down on him like a vice; art lets out a stuttered breath, pulls you down onto him, and cums on the spot.

neither of you quit writhing against each other; he has at least another load in him, cock already chubbing back up encased in your spasming walls, no doubt an angry red and drooling precum. tashi settles herself on the armchair opposite you, already disinterestedly flicking through tv channels.

“want my mouth on you,” you whisper, face pressed just below his jaw, breathing hot air onto his neck.

“in a minute, baby,” he supplicates, grunting as he sheathes himself further into your tight warmth, balls heavy and swollen and slapping against your ass with every filthy rock of his hips.

tashi crosses one leg over the other, the picture of boredom, and says, “bite his ear. he loves that shit.”

you do just that, teeth rolling over his lobe as you suck the sensitive skin into your mouth.

he almost cums again, hands sliding up and over your back to still your movements so he doesn’t blow his load right there.

oh, tashi’s going to have fun with you. mould you into a perfect little toy for her husband, take some of his intense, fervent pining off of her, let you be the center of his world so she can focus on improving his game.

she might even keep you if you’re lucky.