#Plus Size Pants Men

[triedpklove]

both& is one of the funniest brands in the world. you’re telling me you’re selling 80-100 dollar “gender affirming” pants. literally just gave the pink tax testosterone injections.

who would win these 100 dollar cargo pants made for afab bodies or whatever or these 10 dollar cabellas cargo pants i got at goodwill

[maskmens]

Trippy Mushrooms Shirt

[sourcedecay]

Went to the goodwill bins with a couple of my classmates today and i found a good amt of stuff but specifically i found this pair of wranglers pants that are like my exact size and in pretty good condition like massive fucking win

[ezool]

had to do a little clothes shopping today

was reminded of why i hate clothes shopping

[lycorogue]

[Image ID:

Screenshot of a tweet by The Volatile Mermaid (@OhNoSheTwitnt) from May 17, 2023 at 11:19AM. At the time of screenshot, the tweet had 286K views, 1482 Retweets, and 119 Quote Retweets.

Tweet Text:

Men’s pants: Your waist is 30 inches, therefore you are a size 30.

Women’s pants: Your waist is bad inches, you have wide hips, a small butt, short legs, a prehensile tail, and we don’t like your face. Therefore you are a size whatever the fuck we want, but only at this store.

/end ID]

[sad--tree]

need 2 go formal wear shopping at some point soonish. dread. :|

[bunny-jpeg]

bulk

capt. john price

cw: smut/pwp, rugby au, rugby player!price, age gap (20s/40s), size difference/kink, rough sex, doggy style, headlock (slight choking), dirty talk & degrading language, breeding kink, is this ticking off boxes for anyone?

this bunny feeds on comments & reblogs! feed the rabbit!

john price was a big man. almost ten years playing professional rugby for the english team, he had bulked up since his early years on the team.  thick muscle and a nice softness over top. he was strong, able to carry all the groceries inside of your shared flat and also get his hulking frame across the field with ball in hand. he was also hairy, patches of hair across his chest down to his belly, didn't mention all the pubic hair between his legs. it obscured a lot of his tattoos that he had gotten over the years, like your name over his heart and his jersey number at his thigh (you knew you'd get too hot if you thought about his thighs too much).  you once told him, with your tongue loose with alcohol that it was the ideal male body. that these ‘dehydrated poor excuses of men’ needed to drink water and eat some carbs. 

price was a man's man. you knew the first time you fucked him, that you'd never ever fuck with those limp dicked boys at your university. you got addicted to the feeling of a real man, one who know exactly how to make your eyes roll back and your tongue hang out, panting heavily like a good bitch you were.

post-game price was your favourite shade of john price. you could feel his electricity while in the passenger seat of the car after the match. when he pulled out of the parking lot, he placed his large hand on your thigh. he played with the edge of your skirt and kept his eyes on the road. you could tell that the wheels in his head were turning. 

  “honey?”

  “been thinkin', love.” he said as his fingers edged up your skirt a little more. like he was a teen boy rather than a forty year old man. he was teasing you, knowing that there would be no way you could both fuck in the back of his car. even it was an expensive vehicle, it would be a tight fit for such a large man and his smaller wife. 

you looked at him and said, “never a good thing for a man to think.” you giggled then yelped when he gripped your thigh suddenly. 

he chuckled a little as he continued to drive, “thinkin' about makin' a baby.” he licked his top lip, “i ain't gettin' any younger, love. and you're almost done school, so i think it's high time we start makin' a family.” his words were honey in your brain. it made you squirm. your much bigger, much older husband was asking for you to make a baby with him. 

  “someone's got baby fever.” you giggled as you placed your hand over his. the air of the car grew warmer, which made price open the window a little.  you squeaked a little bit when he gripped you harder. you felt your heart rate pick up at the feeling of his large hands on you.

he chuckled a little, as he looked at you briefly while at a stop light. he leaned in to kiss you, “of course. part of me's been thinkin' about you walking across the stage at your graduation with my little brat in your belly.” then looked back to start driving again. 

you rubbed your thighs together and felt wet at your core. you couldn't deny your husband, plus you had been subject to baby fever as well. maybe it was your body screaming for your lover. to have a part of him in you. and it wasn't like you two were being the most safe, so accidents could've happened. once back at your flat, you weren't in your clothes for long. 

price had practically ripped your skirt off of you and those large paws he called hands were groping at your plush ass with his lips on your neck.  you could feel his hard cock inside of his white briefs. the pre cum leaked through the fabric as he humped against you. he said in a heated tone, “i need it. i need her.” while made you moan then try to get your bra and panties off. you felt the heat rising in your skin, it was painfully hot for you. it excited you in ways that left you feeling hot all over. 

  “how badly, honey?”

he pulled you right up against him, his clothed cock digging into your abdomen, “more than anythin'. i need ‘er.  i need ’er stuff full. want it to smell like me for months. and if it doesn't, i'll just fill 'er up again.” he slapped your ass and watched you moan with your back arched. he groped the cheek one last time before he took his naked wife to the bedroom. 

his clothes were tossed to the side too, the t-shirt from the rugby league and basketball shorts. once everything was off, you admired your lover for a long moment. seeing all the heft and hair on him. his body that was so strong that he could easily crush you in his bicep or between his thighs. it made your core throb as you got into bed. 

  “nah, nah.” price said as he got onto the bed and grabbed your hips, “i need a deeper angle, somethin' to really show her i love you.” then patted your pussy before he gripped onto your hips once more and turned you onto your stomach. he then angled your hips up then dragged a finger across your achy slit. he chuckled, “there she is.” then leaned in to give your slick cunt a little blow, watching your hole flutter.

  “mmm please, honey.” you arched your back as you felt your husband so close to you. your hulking husband who only hours earlier was running across the field, fighting his way through the other team. his strong legs carried him and you were sitting in the stands with your thighs pressed together with need. 

price replied, “i know, i know. i know you need me” he rubbed his achy cock up against your slit, “always so good for me. knew for the moment i met ya that i wanted ya for the rest of my days.” there was an age gap between you two, but in all fairness, it turned you on even more. knowing that this handsome older man wanted to make sure that his cock was buried in you. 

when he pressed into you, your back arched. you gasped heavily into the covers as he lifted your hips further to get a better angle to sink into you. he laid over top of you, his fuzzy body up against your back. he pressed his weight onto you and kept that heavy cock of his snug inside of you. you groaned loudly, muffled by the pillows under your head. 

  “honey.” you whined as you felt the ache of his cock so deep in you. 

he got one of his hefty arms around your throat, keeping you further pinned against the bed. it wasn't hard enough to choke the lights out of ou. but enough to have pressure that made your head swim. it all felt so good and just just started. your voice was strained when price started to rut against you. his pace wasn't fast like a young stallion, but they were hard. every thrust of his hips were lazily slow but hit the back of your pussy perfectly. his cock had a thickness to it, you had carried rolls of ground beef that weighed less than his cock. not to mention the forest of pubic hair anf his breeder balls. he was a perfect man, body and all. he  took you so well. 

  “she likes me.” he said, “your pretty cunt. i bet you were thinkin' about me on the field. all dirty and roughed up, yeah. bet you wished i fucked ya right in the locker room. let the boys hear how i make my girl feel. bruise that poor pussy of yours.” he said, words hot in your heat. it made sweat settle over you.

you whimpered a little against the covers, “please, john. ah!”

he continued to fuck you, his pace was aggressive and it made you see stars. his arm was still around your throat and you could feel your pulse in your jaw. he left messy kisses on your face, leaving your cheek wet. you whimpered and clenched around his cock which only made him fuck you harder. you were such a good little wife for him. being so good to your man while he wrecked your sweet little hole. 

  "honey! please! you whimpered as you arched your back, but didn't get far due to the impressive size of your lover. you felt pinned under him, his strength. you gasped out another noise as the blunt head of his cock kept bullying your sweet insides. letting it make a huge mess of you, his cock was soaked in your wetness. it dripped down his hairy balls. he loved making his girl feel good. 

he continued to kiss your face, not quite getting your lips. his facial hair brushed against your heated skin and made you over sensitive. his mouth kept running as he kept moving. he felt hot all over, like a heat in his gut as he battered your sweet insides, “my perfect woman.  know how to take me so well. meant to take me. givin' me the privilege to make you a mama. ya like that? showin' up to uni with a little extra next semester. my dutiful little wife. keepin' up her studies while she nursing my babe.” he chuckled as he continued to keep that pussy of yours nice and filled. 

you gasped and moaned into the covers. you could be as loud as you wanted, you were in the safety of your bedroom as price rutted against you. your body was sweaty and your head was swimming. it was so painfully erotic, you felt hot all over. your heart thumped in your chest with a heavy beat as price kept moving against you. 

  “you're lucky you have the ring already. if your classmates saw you with a nice round middle, they might have gotten the wrong idea about you. that you're a dirty slag who can't keep her legs closed.” he chuckled as he licked down the sweat on the side of your neck, “dirty bird. but it's alright, we're married. you're my wife. mrs. jonathan price. about time you got a little one in your belly.” he pressed further into you and it made your head spin. his cock felt like it was pressing into your stomach. 

  “i love you.” you panted.

he finally kissed your lips, or at least the corner as he tightened his hold around your throat, “i love ya too, sweet thing. lettin' my cock bully your sweet insides. made for me, all of me. don't worry, be keepin' that womb warm for a long time. hope ya like 'em big, price boys can be a handful.” he laughed as he kissed the back of your neck. 

he was fully crowded in your space as he worked your sweet pussy. you barely had time to think before you felt the flash of orgasm through your body. it was like being engulfed in a quick heat while your body tensed up and your mind went blank. your pussy drooling on his cock, beckoning him to finish inside of you. 

a good husband always finishes in his wife. 

with a few more heavy thrusts against your limp body price finished inside of you. he pushed his cock all the way inside of you and made sure that your hips were at an angle that made it easier for you to get pregnant. he clutched onto you as he slowed down to a stop. your eyes rolled back a little as he pulled out. the loss of pressure made you whine. you weren't able to form any proper thoughts, your tongue felt heavy in your mouth as your husband rolled you onto your back and kissed you deeply on the lips. 

no need to think, mrs. price. let your rugby playing husband do all the decision making. <3

[dollniu]

guilty pleasure.. — JJK MEN

SYNOPSIS — things that secretly turn jjk men on!

CHARACTERS — sukuna, gojo, ino, hakari, higuruma, choso, toji

CONTENT — skirts, stockings, whispering, ear-biting, scent, neck kisses, lingerie, nipple play, praise kink, licking, choking, biting, bondage

A/N — MDNI 🔞, if you have any suggestions for posts reblog or comment 💋

RYOMEN SUKUNA

- neck. he lovesss neck kisses, especially while you’re riding him

- lips. anything to do with his mouth on you, biting, licking, sucking, eating you out, all of it

- clothing swap. he gets off seeing you in his robe, he hates how hard he gets from seeing you 🤭

- vocal. loves it when you scream his name, makes him go even harder 😋

- degradation. he’s less than nice in bed and will make you feel like a pathetic little sex toy to him, calling you cruel names just for his own pleasure 🤭

- sadism. the sound of him spanking your ass, the yelp of pleasure you make when ever he slaps you, pushing your head into the pillow whenever he fucks you from the back.. he can’t get enough.

SATORU GOJO

- scent. he loves ur scent, the perfume/cologne you wear makes him weak to his knees.

- accidental touch. he loves it when you touch his lower back, he always gets embarrassed when he arches his back and lets out a little gasp of desperation 🤭

- angry sex. he finds it hot when you’re mad at him, like he could fuck the anger out of you and have you going from angry to begging

- teasing. seeing you squirm whenever he gets so close to you, touching you in places where he definitely shouldn’t be, dirty talking, he loves seeing the flush in your face!

- clothed sex. loves it when you grab his dick through his pants 😋

- breast play. this man LOVES TITS, he will plunge his face into his tit and swallow them while playing with your nips and still get hard.

KINJI HAKARI

- cat ears. secretly loves cat ears and will def fuck the shit out of you while you wear them

- shorts/skirts. he’s an ass kinda guy so seeing your ass poke out through tight short shorts or mini skirts sends him into a frenzy

- choking. while he’s fucking you from the front with his hand wrapped around your neck 😫

- lingerie. spoils you in expensive victoria secret lingerie that he picks out just for you, he loves seeing you slowly take it off in front of him

- pinning. pinning you against the wall is probably his favorite thing to do, seeing you struggle to move against his grasp gives him a hard on immediately

TAKUMA INO

- cockwarming. this man can’t get enough of how good you feel when you’re wrapped around his dick, your pussy swallowing his length like a good girl 🤭

- begging. this man will BEG for you to let him cum and he loves it, it goes both ways as well. he loves seeing you under him, a complete mess, fucking you while you’re begging for him.

- blindfolds. silk ribbons wrapped around your eyes leaves you on edge, wishing you knew where he’d touch you next, where he’d lick you, how he’d fuck you, just what he’ll do to you.

- dry humping. the intimacy of it all feels so filthy, but ino absolutely loves it. the friction of the cloth between you too is so hot for ino and he will do it whenever y’all are lying in bed together!

TOJI FUSHIGORO

- raw. this man will fuck you raw and never uses a condom (no lube no protection!) the feeling of him pounding you and feeling your slippery walls wrap around his dick is an immediate orgasm for him

- daddy kink. we’ve all called toji daddy at least once and it’s all he needs to be fucking you all night long.

- face fucking. there’s nothing toji loves more than slamming your face down his huge dick! and he always cums and makes sure you swallow all of it. 😋

- size difference. we all collectively know that toji has a big ass dick, plus he’s just huge in general! he’s the type of guy to get off just looking down at you as you look up at him with fuck me eyes.

CHOSO KAMO

- overstimulation. our sensitive man choso LOVES being overstimulated. he will go round after round even after cumming 10 times consecutively.

- praise. he loves holding up your face when he’s fucking you and staring into your eyes, telling you how good you’re taking him. “such a good girl”

- edging. it goes both ways. leaving you on the brink of cumming only for him to stop just before you’re about to release just to see you begging on your knees. but when he’s getting the most toe-curling blow job or handy? edging him is the most pleasurable yet hated thing to do to this man and he will be left a whimpering MESS.

- hair pulling. when he’s eating you out, he loves it when you grip at his scalp and push him further into your cunt!

HIROMI HIGURUMA

- 69. we all saw this coming, our big nosed king loves pleasuring you while eating you out. sitting on his face while he can barely breathe can make him cum just thinking about it. but while he’s getting a blow job too? orgasm after orgasm.

- maid dresses. it was a secret he kept to himself until he saw you all prettied up in a maid dress where he lost all self-respect and fucked the shit out of you

- glasses. he loves seeing the way your glasses fall down your face while he’s fucking you against the wall. plus it’s just a preference

- thigh riding. he loves the sounds you make whenever you’re riding his thigh, desperate to cum and pussy practically drooling all over his thigh? his absolute favorite.

- face sitting. like i said before, this man loves oral sex. like he WILL keep eating you out even when you’ve already came, that’s how much he loves your taste ♥️

[conthesatanist]

Fr I’m a fat bitch babes. I’m tryna look just as good as the skinny girlies 😫🧍‍♂️ - a plus size trans man

I do have mad DIY skills now tho, which is truly punk 🤟🤟

ya im complainiong about them i want the COOL PANTS not the MOM OF THE COOL PANTS

[steampunkedparm]

another case of "oh hey!! thats a really cute skirt! and it has built in shor- oh fuck of course they dont have anything under a 35 inch waist :|"

[sundrop-writes]

Meddle About

Sub!Spencer Reid x Dom!Fem!Reader

‘Cause it's not just a figure of speech - you got me down on my knees.

It's gettin' harder to b r e a t h e .

Summary:

You hate it when Morgan teases Reid. So when Morgan says that you are Reid's 'Mommy' - you verbally fire back without even thinking about it.

Reid vastly overthinks it.

So much so that he ends up calling you Mommy by mistake. And you definitely don't hate the sound of that word coming off his lips.

Sub!Spencer Reid x Dom!Fem!Reader. Co-Workers to Lovers. Smut. Set during Season One.

Word Count: 6,300

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: general smut fic - porn with some plot; dom/sub dynamics (but this isn't a pre-discussed dom/sub relationship, the characters just fall into these roles naturally), Spencer is submissive and the reader is dominant; the main theme is Mommy kink - Spencer discovers that he has a Mommy kink after a joke that Morgan makes, referring to the reader character as Spencer's Mommy; Spencer calls the reader 'Mommy' and the reader also refers to herself with that title; the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina (and breasts); it could be interpreted that the reader has larger breasts/is plus sized (but I think anyone of any size could enjoy this fic); the reader is part of the BAU; this is meant to take place during season one (baby Spence my beloved) but there are no other major canon events mentioned and the case being discussed is one that I have made up; some very background typical elements of Criminal Minds - murder, killing, systemic vicimization of women/violence from men towards women (passing mention of bodies being consumed by wild animals); the reader and Spencer fuck while on a case (but they aren't endangering anyone's lives from lack of their attention, so it's fine); mentions of potential injuries from a car accident (theoretical - doesn't actually happen during the fic); very slight threads of Morgan x Reader (mentions of Morgan being attracted to the reader - it could be one-sided); very passing mention of Reid having breeding kink (doesn't take place during the fic, just one of his thoughts); for the actual smut section: this could be interpreted as virgin!Spencer but that's not explicitly stated here (at most, this is just inexperienced!Spencer) (the reader is definitely way more sexually experienced than him); praise kink (we all known Spencer is so eager to be praised); mentions of breastfeeding - Morgan makes a joke about the reader breastfeeding Reid, which later turns into faux breastfeeding kink (the reader doesn't actually lactate, but she lets Spencer suck on her tits and calls it breastfeeding); the reader calls Spencer: 'baby', 'good boy',; descriptions of subspace - but it's not specifically called 'subspace' in the text; thigh humping - Spencer humps the reader's thigh; cumming in pants (Spencer); multiple orgasms/overstimulation (Spencer receiving); handjob - the reader jacks Spencer off while he is sensitive after his first orgasm; using lube as cum; dumbification kink - the reader calls Spencer 'dumb baby' and generally enjoys seeing his intellect drop the more turned on he becomes (Spencer also likes being called this); technically the reader doesn't get to cum, but she gets turned on from treating Spencer like the good boy that he is (and this is more about him). I think that's everything.

A/N: This was directly inspired by the scene from Reid's birthday party, where Morgan says 'Mommy to the rescue!' (talking about JJ) and then Spencer says '...Mommy?' and it seems like he is discovering his Mommy kink in real time. Especially because he is then trapped between Elle and JJ and he makes direct eye contact with their boobs, and he just has such a look of scared kink realization in his eyes. I considered copying that moment exactly and just replacing JJ with the reader character, but this seemed like more fun lmao. I had so much fun writing this and I think this is one of my best fics in a while. I hope you guys enjoy it!!

...

Generally, you hated being stuck with grunt work. 

You knew that it was all part of the job - an important part of it. Paperwork, side interviews, background checks. Sifting through someone’s apartment looking for aspects of what kind of person they were based on their everyday life. 

But you thrived more on being right in the middle of things. You preferred interacting with suspects, chasing people down, harsh confrontation. 

Gideon said that you were overly controlling, impatient, brutally honest - that you had an ‘abrasive personality’ that put most men off. But that was why he often brought you into interrogations with male suspects. Many of the people you caught - men with superiority complexes who targeted the weak to make themselves feel powerful - they hated that you weren’t intimidated by them. That aspect of abrasion between you and the suspects often brought out a lot of information - things they spewed out trying to intimidate you. 

But you weren’t needed on that front today. 

No - instead, you were doing grunt work. The kind of work that made you impatient and generally aggravated. 

The only upside was that you got to do it with Spencer. 

He was one of the only men that voluntarily worked so closely with you so often, because he wasn’t intimidated by you. He took orders from you very well and naturally fell under your authority, bringing a natural chemistry to your partnership when you worked with him. Plus - his seemingly endless stream of ‘fun facts’ was like listening to the radio, which did help to soothe your boredom during these kinds of mindless tasks. 

You were on a case in Texas. Five women raped and tortured before having their bodies hung from a tree and consumed by cotoyes that the UnSub knew lived in the area. Since police had closed in on him, he had gone on the run. He had killed three more women since fleeing, while leaving no clues as to what his ultimate endgame would be or where he would be going next. 

Hotch sent you and Reid to find that out while the rest of the team worked victimology and profiled the scenes of the most recent murders, following the trail he was leaving. 

After spending hours sifting through the suspect’s house, looking for any small clue about where he might be going - you came up empty. When you touched base with Hotch, he told you that you and Reid would be going to visit the suspect’s ex-wife - who lived four hours away. You needed to interview her to see if she could give you any further insight to the man, and perhaps - beat him to the house if she was the ultimate target. 

(A lot of the victims looked like her, and it couldn’t really be a coincidence.) 

You knew that lives were at risk, and it was juvenile of you, but all you heard was: long, boring drive. Boring day. You hoped that Reid would be good company through it. 

Now, you were waiting outside of the police station in the bureau-issued SUV, waiting for Morgan to come and give you the file with the ex-wife’s address and contact information. 

“Did you know that over forty-six percent of Texans own a gun? Texas is second only to Montana in registered gun ownership, where over sixty-six percent of citizens proudly tote their right to bear arms.” Reid told you, continuing to look over the case files that were sitting in his lap. 

When you looked over toward him to reply to this odd factoid, your mind got caught up on something else. 

“Reid, come on, take your feet off the dashboard!” You told him, reaching over to gently smack his knee, trying to encourage his legs down from the awkward position. 

It bothered you for several reasons - the idea that he would leave shoe prints on the dashboard, which was minor and cosmetic, but still annoying. And the fact that if the car did happen to get hit head-on, the air-bag would explode out and push his knees into his chest, causing his shattered leg bones to pierce his organs and possibly kill him. (At the very least, he would never walk again.) 

Speaking of which: 

“And put your seatbelt on!” You barked, now noticing that he wasn’t wearing it past all of the files he had piled into his lap. “You of all people should know how many deaths are caused by not wearing a seatbelt.” 

Spencer opened his mouth to spout out this exact statistic, but before he could get the words out, another voice entered the conversation. 

“Aw, Reid, listen to your Mommy.” 

You were almost startled by Morgan’s voice coming from the open driver’s side window so suddenly. His appearance there as if out of nowhere was so jarring that you couldn’t get caught up on the way he had called you Reid’s Mommy. Your head whipped toward Morgan so quickly that you didn’t notice the flash across Spencer’s features - worry, dawning. You didn’t take note of the way he rushed to comply with putting on his seatbelt. As if he was rushing to please you, even unconsciously. 

“I bet if you’re a good boy, she might even breastfeed you when you get there.” 

Morgan then pursed his lips and made loudly suckling noises, clearly imitating breastfeeding in what he thought was a comedic way. 

Again - glaring at the muscled man through the open window, you didn’t see Spencer’s reaction. You didn’t see the way his large, glassy eyes flickered to your breasts (only emphasized by your own seatbelt crossed over the center of your chest) before he forced himself to focus on the files in front of him so that he wouldn’t feel so caught.

“Shut up.” You told Morgan, your voice so commanding and firm that his simple order was enough to get him to stop his antics. 

“And give me the address already.” You held out your hand expectantly, and Morgan handed you the file, which you placed onto the center console. 

Then, you turned back to him for one last point, determined to have the final word in the conversation. 

“Besides, we both know that you’re the one who’s got an obsession with my breasts, anyway. Just because you stare while wearing sunglasses, doesn’t mean I don’t notice. My eyes are up here, pal.” You told him sharply. 

He let out a scoff at this, and rolled his eyes behind his dark frames - but he made no clever comeback. 

You had successfully bested him. And with that knowledge, you rolled up the window and left him standing dumbly in the parking lot as you sped off. 

… 

You pulled over later to put the address into the GPS system, and you let out a long-winded groan when you found that it was more than four hours away. Four hours and twenty five minutes. 

So you pulled over again to get gas and stocked up on snacks, and you were surprised that Reid wasn’t giving you some lesson about the colloquial use of ‘soda’ and ‘pop’ (thinking that you hadn’t listened the other ten times when he had gone on the same rambling point about linguistics and how language evolves). 

He was being far too quiet for your liking. 

But he was keeping his eyes glued to the files, and you guessed that he was churning over something in that big brain of his, like he usually was. 

You were entirely surprised when the next time he spoke - it wasn’t about the case at all. 

“How - how do you know that Morgan likes your breasts?” He asked, his voice low and mousy, looking straight ahead as he fidgeted with his hands in his lap. 

“What?” You gaped, the word flying out of your mouth as your brain was utterly slow to process what he had just said. 

Hearing Spencer use the word ‘breasts’ was jarring, but somehow utterly adorable. You found it stirring a slight heat within you. Especially because he was still so shy. The whole thing made you want to pin him down and force the shyness out of him. 

Spencer felt the need to further explain himself. 

“When - when you were talking to him, you said: ‘we both know that you’re the one who’s got an obsession with my breasts.’” He said, repeating back what you had said, word for word, using that perfect memory of his. 

You wondered if that’s what he had been doing, sitting there in his seat so silently for the past hour of the car ride - going over the conversation again and again in his head, trying to make sense of it. And because he couldn’t make any sense of it by himself, now he was consulting you. 

Again, you found it so utterly adorable. 

“Morgan didn’t deny it. So - was it a hypothesis based on something, or did you just call him out hoping that you weren’t wrong?” Reid continued, sparing only a singular glance in your direction, a look that you caught out of the corner of your eye with your gaze still mostly focused ahead on the road. 

You found it intensely cute that he was using the word ‘hypothesis’ in this situation. You wondered if he ever turned it off - the textbook big words and the intellect that he always carried himself with. You wondered if you could make him turn it off. You wondered if there was any situation where Spencer Reid could be as stupid as any other man - chasing a bone, desperate to get his nut off. 

For the first time ever - you imagined Spencer Reid underneath you, blabbering nonsense, begging for release with your hand around his cock as you pumped him, red and aching, so slick in your palm. Desperate, empty-headed, beautifully stupid. 

(See, this was what happened when you were forced to do grunt work. You got bored. And when you got bored - you had to entertain yourself somehow.) 

“It was a pretty well-informed hypothesis.” You replied. Now that Spencer had brought the topic up, you certainly weren’t going to shy away from the discussion. “Morgan often brings up my sex life, and wants to engage in detailed discussions about my sexual encounters with me. So I assume that he spends a fair amount of time thinking about me in a sexual way.” 

Reid let out a choked-off noise at this. 

You continued. 

“Plus, he’s always staring down my top. He’s not exactly subtle.” 

“You - you actually notice that kind of thing?” He chirped, his voice becoming a few octaves higher as worry flooded him. 

You bit your lip, suppressing a grin. 

Of course, you had noticed the times that Spencer stared at your breasts as well. He was even less subtle about it than Morgan was. You didn’t mind it when he did it, because you knew that Spencer wasn’t exactly casanova. He didn’t have a different girl every other week like Morgan did, so taking a glance down your shirt when he passed you a morning coffee was probably about as much action as he got. 

Secretly, letting him get away with it was your gift to him. 

“Don’t worry about it, baby.” You told him, the pet name slipping out mindlessly as you reached over and gently patted his knee as a form of reassurance. 

This movement unintentionally drew his eyes toward your chest, especially in his desperation to look anywhere but your face, not wanting to make eye contact with you. But he found his eyes glued to the swell of your breasts once again - hating how perfect they looked, even through the simple cotton shirt and plain bra that you wore. 

“Sorry, Mommy.” The word slipped out before he could even consciously process it. “Sorry!” 

Spencer raised a hand to smack his own face at lightning speed, and slumped down into his seat in embarrassment. 

You bit your lip to suppress a grin. It stirred a filthy heat in your belly. But you knew that Spencer likely needed a while to sit with this and wouldn’t want to talk about it - not yet. So you reached over and turned on the radio, letting the music fill the space so that the silence wasn’t so awkward and gutting. 

…

Spencer didn’t talk for the entirety of the rest of the car ride, which didn’t surprise you. 

When you finally arrived at the ex-wife’s house, his hands were shaking with nerves as he tried to unlatch his seatbelt. You probably should have just left him alone to struggle, but an evil spark, likely fueled by the boredom of the day, flared up inside of you. You couldn’t resist the urge to lean over the console, very purposefully showing off your breasts as you gently pushed his hands away and undid the belt for him. 

“Here, let Mommy get that for you.” You said, distinct teasing on your breath as you mumbled the words into his ear. 

Spencer huffed out a deep sigh and collapsed back into his seat, and pushed his hair out of his face in frustration. But he didn’t say anything more as you gathered the files in preparation for the interview. 

He only spoke when you moved to get out of the car. 

“Look, I-” He began a half assed explanation, and you easily cut him off. 

“You let Morgan get in your head too much.” You told him with a chuckle, opening your door and getting out. 

But as he forced himself to follow you with numb limbs - he knew that this definitely wasn’t all Morgan’s fault. 

… 

The ex-wife didn’t know much. 

She described the marriage as hell - the suspect exhibited all the typical behaviors as a husband that they would have expected. He hated women, and he wanted full control over his wife at the time, which eventually led down the path of divorce. They had to sell the house they had bought together, but neither of them had moved out of Texas since. But he hadn’t contacted her in years. 

She had two young kids from a new relationship, and when the woman stepped out to take a call, you picked one of them up to soothe his cries, hushing him gently while you rubbed his back. 

Because of this, Spencer found himself even more dizzy and confused. 

He knew that it was Frueadian - some deep, misguided part of his psychology - something broken and missing inside of him because of his own fractured childhood. 

But seeing you being so sweet with a kid, especially after the day he’d had - he wasn’t sure if he wanted to be your baby, or if he wanted to shoot his cum so deep inside you that it would ensure he could give you one. 

(Ultimately, he knew that it was likely both - and that didn’t answer any questions for him. It just gave him far more questions.) 

… 

Even though the ex-wife couldn’t give you guys much more than you already knew, Hotch wanted you and Spencer to stay close by in case the suspect decided to make his ex-wife the end game. The two of you would be able to make it to her first if she called for help. 

So you and Spencer had dinner at a random local barbeque place off the highway and Spencer still didn’t talk much through it, other than posing some theories about the case. Even though he was a bit more talkative, he still refused to look at you - he stared down at his plate the whole time. Though whenever he did look up, you noticed that his eyes lingered on your chest - and he still wouldn’t look you in the eye. 

By the time the bill came around and the two of you were ready to leave, you knew exactly what you had to do. 

… 

Spencer waited by the car with his bag while you checked in and got a motel room (needing to stay in town, you got a room for the night). When you came back, you handed him the room key and then moved to get your bag out of the car. 

“Do… you already have yours?” He asked quietly. 

“Hmm?” You hummed in reply, slinging the strap of your go-bag over your shoulder before you closed the back door and used the remote to lock up the car. 

“Your room key?” 

You suppressed another grin. 

“I only got one room.” You told him. “You don’t mind sharing with me, right?” 

You gave him a purposeful look - looked at him through your lashes, bit your lip slightly, and subtly squeezed your breasts together with your upper arms, emphasizing them. You knew exactly what you were doing to him, but hopefully it seemed subtle. 

“I - uh - no.” Spencer stuttered. “It’s fine. We can share.” He gave a grin, not wanting to appear upset, even though his entire body was racked with nerves. 

Spencer followed you to the room and he fumbled with the key with shaking hands for a moment before he sighed and then handed it to you. 

His insides quaked when he saw that there was only one bed. 

He wasn’t sure if he should say anything about it. The two of you had slept in the same room before, but you had never shared a bed before. Sure, you had slept near each other before. He had accidentally fallen asleep on your shoulder on the plane or vice versa. But you had never crawled into bed together with the intention of sleeping together. 

And yes, just the entendre behind it made Reid’s head spin. 

He had a heavy knot in his gut, and hatefully - a distinct stirring in his crotch. He could only imagine how embarrassing it would be for you to wake up and see him compromised in some way. Or god forbid, if you caught him moaning in his sleep because of unconscious dreams that he couldn’t stop - for you to think that he was some kind of dirty sex pervert because of it. 

He felt an overwhelming need to clear the air overtake him. He had no clue how to broach the subject, but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to spend the night like this. He wouldn’t be able to sleep with this anxiety hanging over his head. 

He studied you carefully as you sat down on the edge of the bed, ditching your bag off to the side and heaving out a tired sigh as you began taking off your shoes. 

Spencer put down his own bag and then stood there, fidgeting nervously as he searched for words. 

“I - uh - I am sorry about earlier.” He mumbled out the beginnings of an apology. “What Morgan said was stupid, and I-” 

“I don’t think it was stupid.” 

You let out a chuckle, and reached up the back of your shirt. Spencer found himself frozen, his eyes tracing your every moment as you unhooked your bra underneath your shirt and then moved to maneuver the straps out from your short sleeves while you kept talking. 

“I think he had a point.” You added on. “Good boys should get a reward. And I think you were fairly good today. You didn’t eat all your veggies at dinner, but you kept your feet off the dashboard and you were quiet during the car ride. You definitely get points for being patient during such a long trip, baby.” 

Your voice smoothed into a soothing tone, that word - baby - melting like butter over your tongue in a way that made Spencer’s knees wobble. He hadn’t known it until right now, but you calling him a ‘good boy’ and listing off such mundane things he had done that made him worthy of a reward fired off sparks inside of his brain. 

A breath choked off inside of his throat as you stood up off the bed and peeled your bra completely out from under your shirt. Somehow it was one of the sexiest things he had ever seen, revealing the hard peaks of your nipples and the beautiful natural teardrop shape of your breasts to him through the cotton fabric. 

Spencer wanted to speak, but his tongue felt so heavy and dry inside of his mouth. He knew that he was staring at your chest so blatantly now, but he couldn’t peel his eyes away. He couldn’t even feel ashamed anymore. 

That dull tingle in his crotch had turned into a full on stinging interest, and he unconsciously pulled at the fabric of his pants, trying to loosen some of the tension that was growing, not even considering how it might look to you - him dumbly reaching for his crotch to make it look looser when his hardening bulge was becoming more obvious by the second. 

It was one of the most ‘caveman’ things he had ever done in front of you - standing there with his mouth hanging slightly agape, pulling at his crotch without caring how it looked. You definitely wanted more, wanted to see how dumb he could get. How far you could make him devolve. 

“So what do you say, baby boy?” You hummed, stepping close into his personal space now, causing him to get a whiff of your perfume - something that was only a dull trace after such a long day, but still smelled so good. “Do you want Mommy to breastfeed you? Do you wanna suck on my tits as your reward?” 

You gently ran a thumb across his cheek, and paired with the words, Spencer’s brain short-circuited. 

He knew realistically that you weren’t actually offering to breastfeed him. There was no evidence in your life to say that your body could actually support the production of milk currently - but you were offering to let him play pretend. To suck on your tits with a very sexual air, to call you Mommy without the teasing humiliation behind it that Morgan had hinted at (or maybe Spencer liked that humiliation, he wasn’t even sure). (He hadn’t even known before this morning that he liked the idea of calling you Mommy, but here he was). 

All he could conjure in response was the dumbest, non-human sound. 

“Nngh.” 

It was a grunt from the back of his throat - too much blood swelling to his cock all at once and too much direct attention from you making him dizzy. 

You giggled quietly. 

“Come on, baby. Just say the word. And Mommy will give you everything you need.” 

Spencer inhaled sharply. At this point, he was desperate to get some oxygen to his brain. 

His mind was racing, chanting out: 

‘Yes! God, yes! I want it so badly, Mommy! I want anything you’ll give me. I need you. I need you so badly.’ 

But all his lips could form in the wake of such dizzying lust was: 

“Please.” 

“Good boy.” You sighed. 

You used a hand on his chin to tilt his face up to meet yours, and you consumed him in a kiss - he was hungry and eager to meet your touch, moaning loudly into your mouth, his hands racing to touch you now, rushing up to grip on your hips in the most utterly needy way. He balled the fabric of your shirt in his fists, like he couldn’t get enough of you - like he was afraid you would dissolve away if he let go of you for even a second. 

It was cute, to say the least. 

You only let the kiss last for a moment, though. You pulled away to a disappointed whine from Spencer, which you quietly hushed. 

“Hey, it’s okay baby.” You soothed him. “Come here. Mommy’s gonna take good care of you.” 

You lead him toward the bed, getting rid of his tie in the process, and Spencer stepped out of his shoes along the way. You slid onto the bed and laid up on the pillows on your back, Spencer clumsily following you, crawling on all fours. The two of you had barely started, but he was full-on panting now, racing to catch his breath while his blood hammered through his veins. 

He watched on with eager curiosity while you got comfortable, fluffing the pillow under your head before you then reached down and pulled up your shirt. You pulled the fabric to sit up under your chin, finally revealing your gorgeous breasts to him. 

If he was lost for words before, then he had receded back to a total neanderthal now. 

His mouth fell open and his salivary glands started working overtime as his eyes raked hungrily over your chest - enjoying the pure beauty of the fatty mounds, striped with zig-zagging stretch marks and completed by your hard peaked nipples. 

“Here, come on, baby.” 

You had to remind Spencer what the goal was, guiding him into place with a hand on the back of his head. You helped ease his body to lay on top of yours as he relaxed into you - and his mouth finally found its rightful place on your breast. He became greedy, suctioning hard on your nipple as though he might actually get something out of it. 

Truthfully, he did get something out of this. 

It definitely wasn’t any form of nutrition, but it was something that drove him lustfully insane and made his head fuzzy and warm in the best way. This was the only time in his entire life that he didn’t have ten thousand thoughts running through his mind like the news blasting on television in the background. This was the only time since his first conscious memory that he had actually known his mind to be quiet. 

He felt intensely thankful for it. Intensely thankful toward you for giving him this feeling. 

In that moment, without all the noise, all he knew was the comforting feeling of your fat tit under his mouth, the heat of your body under his own as you cradled him. The soothing firmness of your hands through his hair and down his back - and the distant, sweet purring of your voice in his ears. 

“Good boy.” You hummed, loving the feeling of him moaning around your nipple - so constant and so greedy now that you were sure he didn’t even know that he was doing it. “Such a good boy for me. Such a good boy for Mommy.” 

Your cunt was humming between your thighs, aching so hard at seeing Spencer like this. The usually composed, intelligent, practically robotic Doctor Reid reduced down to a blubbering, moaning, needy mess just because he wanted to suck on your tits. 

Just because you had called yourself Mommy a few times in his presence. 

It was so utterly beautiful, and you wanted more. 

(You didn’t think that you could ever let him go after this. You probably wouldn’t be able to stand the idea of another woman touching him after this. But you would have to think on that more later.) 

You noticed Spencer canting his hips, unconsciously seeking friction against his hard cock while he continued to suck on your breast. With his eyes closed blissfully, drool gathering around his lips where they met your skin in the most utterly adorable way. You couldn’t help yourself - you scooted your knee between his thighs. You then used a hand to help his hips into place, adjusting him so that he was getting good friction against your denim-clad thigh. 

“There you go. There you go, sweet boy.” You hummed, feeling another jolt through your body when he let out a sharper moan against your tit, and began humping your leg in earnest. 

You were quick to encourage him, putting both hands on his hips and helping him along while he greedily hung onto you. He had on your hip, the other hand slipping up to cup fingers around the bottom of your breast, making sure you didn’t escape him while he moved his body against you so frantically. 

“That’s just what you needed, isn’t it, baby?” You moaned out, your voice wavering slightly as the pleasure of it all thrummed through you. “Just a dumb little baby who needed Mommy’s tit.” 

The term ‘dumb little baby’ came flying out of your mouth before you could stop it. Though you knew exactly why it happened. Seeing such a brilliant genius reduced down to this truly did something to your ego. And apparently hearing those words from you did something to him, too. 

He whined sharply against your skin and his hips stuttered abruptly. You knew it wouldn’t be long before he came in his pants, his cock throbbing against the friction of your thigh. And this thought alone caused your mouth to run off without restraint. 

“Such a needy little thing.” You sighed. “You love being Mommy’s dumb baby, don’t you? Not a single fucking thought between your ears, just sucking on Mommy’s tit without a care in the world.” 

Spencer moaned and it sent another jolt through your body - another harsh pang through your cunt. You loved how much he needed you. You loved how much he was clearly eating this up. 

You didn’t even care if you got to cum tonight; you just wanted to exhaust him for all he was worth. Because he was so fucking pretty like this. 

“You gonna cum for me, baby boy? You gonna cum for Mommy? Come on, baby. Cum for me.” 

These words were what ultimately sent him over the edge. Well that along with your strong hands on his hips, encouraging him along while he was mindless and busy mouthing on your breast.

His jaw dropped open, finally loosening that desperate suction on your now slightly sore nipple as he began to pant frantically over your now spit-soaked skin. He moaned hotly while he humped you in an entirely adorable, almost distraught manner - absolutely desperate to have the most friction on his cock while his orgasm overtook him. 

You could feel his needy cock throbbing against you, trapped inside of his pants, shooting off hot ropes of cum that quickly soaked into his underwear and even then, seeped into the fabric of his slacks. You grinned and bit your lip as you felt that wetness even beginning to soak into your jeans, knowing he must have set off quite a big load. 

Spencer soon collapsed on top of you, gulping in air as he tried to catch his breath. 

Any normal person would have taken pity on him (seeing as he was clearly nervous and inexperienced) and wound things down to end the night here. Anyone else would have likely let him rest. 

But again, you felt devilish temptation overtake you. (It was a feeling that seemed to be much more ripe around Spencer Reid.) 

You just felt thankful that your temptation and inclination toward chaos came in the form of lust, rather than something more violent, like the people you studied every single day. Everyone around you should be thankful for that. 

You used your leverage (and the fact that you weren’t nearly as exhausted from the experience) to flip him over onto his back. He let out a surprised sound as his back made contact with the mattress - blinking up at you with shocked, glassy eyes as you moved down his body slightly. 

“Wha-?” He mumbled out the question, only getting out part of the word before you reached for the zipper on the front of his now wet pants. 

“Hey, shh, baby. I just wanna see you.” You told him quietly, causing him to stare down the length of his own body at your hands as you worked. 

You got the button and zipper undone quickly and you let out a quiet ‘fuck’ as you peeled back the wet fabric of his grey slacks to reveal the sight of his simplistic (very Reid) white cotton underwear slightly transparent and stuck tight to his cock, coated in wet, sticky cum. 

“So pretty baby.” 

He only whined in response. 

You couldn’t help yourself - you reached up and pulled down the waistband of his underwear, feeling more lust pricking through you as he was truly revealed to your eyes. He was perfect. Glossy and wet with his own release, his cock pinky red from the exertion and friction, still half hard. You pulled the clothes down over his hips and he lifted his body to help you, clearly glad to be rid of the mess, and the second you untangled the fabric from his ankles and ditched everything aside, you were back on him. 

You skimmed the tips of your fingers oh-so-lightly up his shaft where it was sprawled across his pelvis, and his hips jolted. He let out a bitter gasp - as though cold water had been splashed across him. 

“You said-” He choked on the words as you ran your thumb right underneath the crown, gently pressing into the head, causing him to choke on a moan while his knees quaked. 

You sat on his knees to keep him still and his head became so fuzzy once again. 

‘You said that you only wanted to look.’ 

The sentence died off in his lungs somewhere, and truthfully - he didn’t want to protest. He didn’t want you to stop. 

“Sens-sensitive.” He whined. “Too much.” 

“But you’re so pretty, baby.” You replied, your voice turning smooth and warm like butter again, melting over his whole body, causing all of his muscles to go soft and pliant for you. “Your cock is so pretty. I need to touch you.” 

He let out another strangled noise when you cupped your hand and took him fully in your grip this time, giving one good tug across his cock from root to tip. When you did this again, faster this time, his lungs seized inside his chest - trying to take in oxygen so quickly, as though he were drowning on dry land. 

“You gonna be good for me, baby?” 

“Yes.” He gargled back in response. “Yes, Mommy.” 

He was already so wet from cumming in his pants, and he let out a pathetic dribble of precum as you continued to move your hand - so it was an easy, slick slide. One that sent harsh shockwaves through him from overstimulation. Against his own will, he soon ballooned back to full hardness - becoming painfully swollen in your hand while you sped up your touch and closed your fist tighter around him. It caused the most wonderful hurt between his legs, and made a downright filthy wet sound as you pumped your grip faster along his needy cock. 

Spencer heard wailing and felt the soreness against his throat before he realized that he was the one making those desperate sounds. He distantly wondered what it might sound like to someone else, if the rooms on either side were occupied, if the motel would receive a noise complaint about some frail woman getting fucked to death by her husband next door - because that’s what he sounded like in his own ears. 

But any of those half-thoughts were chased out of his brain the second you flicked your thumb up over the head of his cock and your dirty mouth filled his ears once again. 

“Gonna milk this pretty cock, baby.” You told him, your voice firm. “You gonna show Mommy how much you can cum for me? Gonna show me what a good boy you are?” 

Spencer let out another pathetic sound, his body singing with pleasure at his pure need to prove to you that - yes, he was a good boy. 

He felt tears wet on the side of his face before he realized that he was crying, but it was all too good to ask you to stop. 

You used your other hand to cradle his balls and you swooped down to capture his gasping mouth in another kiss (a very messy, open mouthed kiss that Spencer could barely pay attention to). Spencer screamed into your mouth while he painted his stomach with cum once again.

You only stopped jerking his cock once you had truly milked every last drop from him, his hips seizing up off the bed and your hand almost slipping off him completely from how sloppily wet it was with more of his cum added to the mix. 

He was purely exhausted then. His eyes blinked heavily, struggling to stay open. He vaguely remembered you cleaning him off and tucking him into bed - but he definitely enjoyed falling asleep curled up next to your warmth. 

…

The next morning, Spencer felt hungover. 

He wondered if that’s what good sex always felt like - the combination of endorphins rushing through your body and physical exertion tackling you over. His legs were sore, as though he had run several miles. (Which wasn’t even something he could make a bold comparison to anyway, because he didn’t exercise nearly as much as he should for someone with this job). He woke up starving, grateful when you drove to a diner down the road after checking out of the motel and planted him in one of the booths before going outside to call Hotch in order to touch base with the rest of the team. 

You came back with a small grin on your face. 

“Turns out that tip the ex-wife gave us about their first house in Arlington was pretty solid.” You told Reid. “They caught the guy on his way there. He had another girl in the trunk. They got her back mostly unarmed, and took him into custody.” 

Spencer nodded. “That’s good.” 

When he moved to grab another sugar packet out of the caddy on the side of the table, three of them already open and empty beside his cup of coffee, you grabbed him by the wrist. 

“That’s enough, baby.” You told him. 

His stomach curled, that distinct feeling running through him again. And against his will, that word slipped out - again. 

“Yes, Mommy.”

...

A/N: This is a standalone oneshot. There won't be a sequel or a continuation, so please do not ask for one. If you liked the fic, please comment about the body of work that has been written, or consider reblogging to show your appreciation. If you want to see more Spencer Reid fics that I have written, you can check out my Criminal Minds Masterlist, or you can check out my Masterlists for other fandoms to see if anything catches your eye. Thank you for reading!

[villanelleskiss]

buying pants for myself became so much easier once i started buying men’s sizes

[realcube]

SUMMER HEAT pt2

summer sex with hq men

characters ☀ suna, daichi, bokuto & nishinoya

tws/tags ☀ handjobs // vaginal, size kink // semi public, fingering, breeding // oral (receiving)

SUNA RINTARŌ liked to laze outside in the hammock with you, sheltered from the blistering sun by the shade of the trees. one arm wrapped around your shoulder, and the other resting of your waist as you nuzzled against him. it was calm for a while, until you positioned yourself in such a way that your tits were pressed right against his chest. soon enough, you could feel his length stiffening and prodding against your thigh. suna chose against aknowledging it, but when you looked up at him with a devilish smile, you could see a gentle pink dusting over his features. "want some help?" you offer kindly, as you slip your hand beneath his shorts and stroke his cock. eyes closed, he nods, "would you, baby?" his question is answered as he feels your delicate hands wrap around his length and start pumping, eliciting hushed moans from your boyfriend, you could feel his biceps tense around you as he pulled you even closer towards him. "fuck, (y/n). you're so perfect."

DAICHI SAWAMURA goes on a camping trip every summer with his friends, but this year they are all busy with their own affairs so he convinces you to come with him instead. though camping with you is a little different than with his friends. your hands are pinned above your head by daichi, against the floor of the tent while his massive cock drills into your hole. your nipples perk at the cold night air, tempting him to take one in his mouth and suck. you arch your back and let out a shriek-like moan at how his girth rips you open, and he chuckles, while keeping his vigorous rhythm, "might want to be quiet, doll." he captures your lips in his own, keeping you in a ferocious kiss before suddenly pulling away, "you don't want to wake the bears." you whimper at the suggestion, remaining quiet for a couple of moments before you continue to scream at how your strained walls have to contort to accommodate his size. you figured nothing the bears could do to you would hurt more than daichi.

BOKUTO KŌTARŌ was very excited to visit the water park with you. but after he saw you in your swim suit, he spent the majority of his time in the park praying for your bikini top to get caught in the slide. and after going down together, with you on his lap, he has to drag you away to the changing rooms so he can relieve himself before he gets back in the pool. he has your wet body bent over against the door of the stall, thick fingers stimulating your aching clit while his cock rams into you, over and over again. with his other hand grabbing your ass, watching your shiny body bounce with each thrust, it doesn't take long before he's ready to burst inside you. his eyes are tightly shut and he grits his teeth together to avoid moaning your name in the public changing rooms, this is about the quietest he's ever been. he pants heavily in lieu of moans, taking deep, laboured breaths that guide him through his climax, as your tight hole wrings him dry and he spills into you. as much as he enjoys the feeling of your snug cunt, eventually he pulls out, but he shoves his fingers in immediately in place of his cock, causing you to yelp. "sorry, babe," he whispers, "can't have you leaking into the water though." you exhale out your nose, "i think i'm done with pools for today, actually."

NISHINOYA YŪ picked up fishing during his travels, and was eager to share his new-found hobby with you. so on a nice, warm day, he decided to rent a boat and take you out into the middle of a lake so you could join him. however, he should've known that the two of you plus a secluded area could only lead to one thing. the boat rocks and you hear the slushing of water with each fierce thrust. your wanton moans echo across the lake, in the stark contrast to the previous tranquility. "shh." he smirks, placing a finger over your lips, "you'll scare the fish away." you bite your lip in attempt to suppress your moans, but he only tosses his head back and increases the pace. "so fuckin' sexy." he grunts, pulling out, only so he can drop onto his chest and push his face between your legs, tongue lapping up your juices, desperate for your taste.

[chase-solidago]

pssst - hey field work/ecology work/rugged folks of all types

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[captainsamuelmorrigan]

Spank Bank

Steddie! NSFW! TW: Porn, Body Dysmorphia

Steve has a huge problem. He's obsessed with this magazine he found at Eddie's house. Well, one photo specifically.

He found it in Eddie's copy of Dungeons & Dragons Players Handbook that he had been trying to use to create his first character. The book was so well-loved that for a moment, Steve had thought part of the book itself had fallen out, before looking down and seeing the cover of a gay porn magazine. His entire face turning red, thinking he hadn't been meant to see this, he quickly stuck it back into the back of the book and back onto his nightstand. Falling onto his back, staring up at his popcorn ceiling, trying to get the shirtless man from burning into the back of his eyelids.

He made it 36 hours before tentatively pulling the magazine back out of the book again. There wasn't any shame in knowing what a friend was into. Right? He's one of Eddie's best friends! They can laugh about it later! 'Haha, you left your dirty magazine in the book you lent me. You pervert!'

Steve looks at the front, a lithe and handsome young guy staring straight into the camera, holding up a football. The only indication that this magazine was dirty at all was the text advertising "HOT Young Jocks, Otters, and Daddies!!" Steve shakes his head and puts the magazine face down on the bed. He feels insane. This is way over the line.

Grabbing the magazine once again, he leafs through the pages, seeing all manner of muscular young men in a variety of sporty attire. Some in baseball outfits that were a size too small, legs spread on a bench to see his package straining against his pants, next to a picture of the same guy from the behind, the same pants making his rather round butt look almost like a girl's. Turning further past a few guys making out in camo gear, Steve comes across a dog-eared page.

For a moment, Steve remembers whose porn this is. Eddie had dog-eared this page to return to. The page that was folded for easy access was a muscular, sweaty guy in a basketball uniform. The uniform was a costumey shade of red that seemed that it was made for this shoot in particular, with the top cropped right below this guy's chest, the basketball shorts hanging low on this guy's hips, showing the waistband of his underwear, and a neatly manscaped happy trail. His hair was tossed around sexily. No, teased. It was kind of like Steve's, a warm, natural brown. This guy also had a few moles like Steve. Plus, the basketball outfit is almost a little too on the nose.

The page next to it made Steve's mouth go dry. This Not-Steve was below the camera now, mouth open for someone's hand to be pressing their thumb down onto his tongue. Looking through his long brown lashes like he was receiving sacrament, a silent prayer of reception in his soft eyes.

Steve hastily shoves the magazine in his bedside drawer. He struggles to sleep with so much blood southbound.

It's two days after that that he has to meet Eddie's eyes.

He's over to watch Rocky Horror again, nothing new. But this time, he sits an extra few inches away from Eddie. He isn't worried about Eddie making a pass at him, but he is worried he'll be weird if he thinks about Eddie thinking about sporty boys, his face getting all flushed and sweaty and- Quit it, Steven.

He stuffs pizza into his mouth, willing the cheesy bread to blanket his busy mind.

"Dost the King wish to share his royal thoughts?" Eddie quips.

"Shush, Freak." Steve flicks a piece of stale couch popcorn at Eddie.

Eddie cluches his chest, leaning back dramatically. "Oh! I'm wounded, Steve! How could you bring up my troubled past?"

"Sorry, just distracted tonight."

"Anything I can help with?"

Steve sighs. "Nah, just one of those nights."

They nodded at each other. They had seen enough of vines, girls with superpowers, and demobats to fill a million nights. They looked back towards the TV to watch the glittery outfits of the Transylvanians.

Steve felt a twist of guilt deep in his stomach at the small lie.

"Mm." Eddie said, knowingly.

"Yeah."

They sat in silence for quite a while, the campy sparkly show tunes bursting forth from the wood-paneled television enough to keep the quiet from becoming too awkward.

Janet breaks the silence with her iconic line, "I don't like men with too many muscles."

"I didn't make him FOR YOU!" Eddie shouts back along with Frank, laughing.

Steve takes a breath to gather his courage. "Do you like guys with muscles?"

Eddie's fingers drum on his thigh, looking away from Steve, pulling his hair to cover his face. "Whaat? Steve, do you really want to know my taste in guys? Isn't that like... weird to you?"

"Robin and I talk about our taste in girls all the time."

"Yeah, but that's different. You both like girls." Eddie's fingers pick up their rhythm, speadily pressing out a few chords into his thigh of choice. "You don't like guys."

"I don't, but Nancy does. I've talked with her, El, Max, even Argyle about the guys they like."

Eddie is quiet for a moment. "How about we talk about this another time. I'm kind of floaty on my painkillers right now."

They turn back towards the movie.

...

"Do you think Rocky or Frank-N-Furter is hotter?"

Eddie sighs, folding his hands in his lap. "Rocky. I think I'm too much like Frank. Plus, any gay guy can't resist those smooth muscles." Eddie laughs. "Not my usual type, though."

They part ways an hour later after the movie. Eddie's eyelids had started to droop during "I'm Going Home," and Steve knew he had about 20 minutes before he had to drag Eddie's spidery form to bed.

Once he was home, he grabbed the magazine and turned to the folded page. He stared down at Mr. Basketball, or "Rory," as the mag had dubbed him. He seemed slimmer than Steve, definitely less hairy.

Eddie's line from earlier chimed in Steve's head. "Any gay guy can't resist those smooth muscles." Well, Eddie liked smooth. Steve wasn't smooth. Eddie liked slim. Maybe that's what 'wasn't Eddie's type' about Rocky. This guy in the magazine was everything Eddie wanted. All the things Steve was, and the things he wasn't.

Steve pulled up his shirt, revealing his muscular stomach. It wasn't as toned as his high school days, but he would say he was muscular. His thick brunet curls, spreading up his stomach to his chest, and swirling down towards his cock.

As he pulls his shirt up further, more to the length of the boy's in the picture, he noticed the slight tenting of his pants.

Was this guy in the picture getting him hard? He looked between his junk and the mag a few times, noticing the tenting of Rory's own shorts in the second photo. It seemed that Rory was also a little more well-endowed than Steve. Steve had plenty, sure, but this guy? Steve clenched a little at the thought of staring down the barrel of that thing.

Eddie liked big-dicked, hairless, skinny jocks. Steve was maybe one out of three.

His hand drifted from playing with his stomach hair, following the swirls lower, into his pants. His dick twitching at the notion of use. Twirling the hair around his fingers, watching the front of his pants move, giving slight bits of friction to his quickly responsive dick. He groaned softly. Was he really about to jerk it to Eddie's porn?

He slowly wrapped his fingers around his cock, tugging lightly. He thought about Eddie there. What would Eddie think of Steve like this? Maybe he'd pull out the theatrics, like he used to in high school.

He imagined Eddie looking down at him. "You really think I'd want you, Harrington? With all that beastly hair? You look like a werewolf, man."

His dick twitched at the thought of Eddie looking at him with disgust. His eyes were getting misty.

"I don't even know how I'd get to that tiny cock through that thick jungle anyways. Truly a needle in a hairy haystack. The only thing you're good for is taking my load on those muscles."

That did it. Steve came with a weak cry, tears streaming down his face, thinking about Eddie's glistening cum on his stomach, soaking his belly fur.

The shower after was full of pitiful sniffles and more shame than Steve was used to. He felt empty.

The next week was full of more shame-wanks than Steve had ever done before. Night after night, Steve opening the magazine, finding more of his shortcomings, all ending in his hand around his dick and a pitiful cry in the shower. The nights following are full of fitful tossing and turning. He barely had the energy to do his hair in the morning.

By the 8th day of this Robin had rebooted the 'You Suck' counter. Steve couldn't really blame her. He had dropped VHSs, forgotten to tidy the break room, and worst of all, had snapped at Robin. He had gotten 3 strikes for that one.

"What's your damage, Steve? You're not being a real girl's girl right now. Plus you look like shit." Robin crossed her arms for emphasis.

"It's nothing."

"Truth, now." Robin leaned in. "Or I'm assuming you have brain cancer or something! You could even be a government replacement or something! What's my middle name? Wait... that's something the government would know. Where did I tell you I was a lesbian?"

"You're a lesbian?"

Robin's eyes widen in horror.

"The Starcourt bathroom, after the Russians. I'm me, I'm just distracted." Steve looks away from her. "I found a magazine in one of Eddie's books and it's freaking me out."

Robin scoots to be next to Steve. "Is it like... a porn magazine?"

Steve nods.

Robin cringes. "Are you freaked out in a 'this sex stuff is too weird' way, or in a 'this is gay and I don't like it way'?" She looks softly into Steve's eyes, obviously trying to be delicate with him.

"One of the guys looks like me, but he's like... not me? Maybe I'm making too big of a deal out of it." He starts to turn away from her.

"No! I'm sure it's weird to see that in a magazine, but it's just one picture, right? Could be a total coincidence."

"The page was marked. He'd definitely meant to come back to it."

She covers her mouth, eyes wide. "Oh that's..." She searches for the right thing to say before speaking. "Still, could be a coincidence! There are lots of guys with brown hair."

Later, at Steve's house, Robin stares at the page, mouth agape. "Steve this is... this guy looks A LOT like you. He's got your little chin moles and the basketball uniform, and the styled hair? I get why this squicked you."

"Squicked?"

"Made you feel gross. This is kind of shocking."

Steve pulls the magazine back to himself. "Well- I- I don't care if he's doing that to me." He's shaking a bit as he tries to collect his thoughts.

"You don't?" She raises an eyebrow, reaching towards Steve. "I don't think I understand."

"This guy isn't me! He's smaller, and better looking. Plus, he's like, HAIRLESS! Obviously Eddie would never want me if he likes this guy." Steve flops back, leaning limply against the wall.

"Woah woah woah!" Robin puts a hand on Steve's arm, rubbing soothingly. "Steve pause the negative self-talk for a second. Do you WANT Eddie to want you like that?"

Steve ceases for a moment. "I don't- It's not-"

Robin pats his arm. "It's okay if you do."

"No! It's not!" Steve sits up quickly, Robin having to jump out of the way. He hides his head in his hands, stressfully rubbing his face as his voice grows small. "It's not. He wouldn't-" His voice trembles. "He wouldn't want a guy like me. He wants a guy like that."

Robin reaches over to rub his back. "Steve, I know you're sleep deprived, and it seems like you're suffering through your first gay crush, but I promise you that you and that guy are much more similar than you are different. Even though I think it's really gross that Eddie is doing things while thinking about you, you seem to want that! And that's totally and completely okay."

Steve peeks out from behind his hands. "What if Eddie doesn't want me, though?"

"Stephen Maurice Harrington, you are the biggest idiot in the entire world if you think that Edward Munson is not" she takes a breath, cringing "crazy horny for you if he was willing to find a sporty soft-core porn magazine with a guy who looks so much like you that it grossed me out to see him in the position he's in." She folds her arms again, looking down her nose at him. She raises an eyebrow expectantly.

"Do you think I should talk to him?"

"Steve, I say this as your best friend. Go do him."

Hours later, Steve is on Eddie's doorstep. The newer, nicer, double-wide trailer in front of him suddenly much more imposing than it was last week. He brings his hand to the door, lowering it and turning around before hearing it open behind him.

"Steve? Robin said you were coming. What's going on?"

Dammit, Robin. There was no way to escape now. He plastered his trademark King Steve smile on before spinning around. "Hey! Yeah, I remembered I forgot to return your book." He offers Eddie back his book, knuckles white with stress. "I didn't get around to completing the character, but maybe we can hang out next week, and you can help? Unless you're busy or something. It's totally up to you, man." He crosses his arms to put something between him and Eddie, stepping back.

Eddie raises an eyebrow. "Steve, you know I'm not doing anything. Is this about Rocky? I told you that this was going to make things weird." He hugs his book to his chest, using his other hand to lean on his cane. "If you're going to be homophobic about it, can we just forget about it?"

"I can't forget about it, Eds." Steve shakes his head.

Eddie cringes, starting to lean back to close the door, losing his balance a bit. The book slips from his grasp, falling in slow motion as Steve grabs after it. It slips through his fingers, the pages fanning open enough to allow the magazine to slip to the ground first. The book thudding to the concrete next to it. They both stare, at a loss for words.

Eddie covers his face defensively with his arm. "Steve I- I can explain. I'm so sorry that was in there. I totally forgot about it and- and- I would NEVER make a pass at you. You have to understand! I'm not like- like THAT!" Eddie looks like he wishes he could disappear into oblivion. If he still had the running power, Steve was sure he'd be down the block by now.

"You wouldn't?" Steve deflates. Of course he wouldn't.

Eddie's arm drops. "What?"

Steve bends down, stacking the mag on top of the book. "Robin said, she said the guy in the magazine looked exactly like me. That you... you probably liked me. I knew that I wasn't your type. It's okay." He offers Eddie a weak smile, he tries and fails to stop his chin from trembling. This hurt more than Nancy, more than anything.

Eddie pushes the book out of the way. "Steve." He takes a deep breath, his shaking calming down a bit. "Do you want it to be you?"

"He's thinner than me, though. I mean, I get it if that's your thing. He's thinner, way less hairy, his dick is- Well, you know, not a lot of guys are that big." Steve looks at the little bundle of dandelions in one of Wayne's mugs on the table by the door. Anything to avoid Eddie's eyes.

Eddie lets out a nervous laugh. "Steve. Steve. Look at me." He waves his hand in front of Steve's face, trying to get him to disengage from his self-hatred fixation. "I don't care about that stuff."

Steve looks into the curly-haired boy's eyes. "You don't?"

"Nah, I mean, not as much as some other people might. I like muscley guys as much as the next homo, but beggars can't be choosers in small towns."

"So you're settling for me?"

"Jesus, Harrington. Who pissed in your cheerios? No. I'm saying you're super fucking hot, like, way hotter than some guy in a magazine." He fidgets with his cane, tapping it on the floor, laughing nervously. "I've had that magazine since, like junior year. I forgot it was in that book."

"Did you have that page marked that whole time?" Steve holds his breath, his eyes sparkling as he looks at Eddie.

"Y-yeah? It's really embarrassing. I used to have this weird fantasy where you'd like, be one of those homophobic bullies who turned out to be gay and you'd do a bunch of nasty stuff with me. Again, it's very super embarrassing, actually. You totally don't have to do any of it with me if you don't want to." He tucks a curl behind his ear, looking at Steve sheepishly.

Steve laughs, leaning in to kiss Eddie. It's just an innocent peck, their lips meeting as their eyes close. Eddie's lips are softer than Steve expected. "I want to hear about it. We might try some of it out."

"Careful there, Stevie, you're gonna get my hopes up."

"And about the dick thing?"

"Steve, trust me, I am totally fine handling average."

"What about like, slightly above average?"

Eddie stumbles for a second time. "So the legends are true!!" He laughs.

(Edit: For those asking, the fic that inspired this is "Driving with the Devil" by objectlesson on AO3.)

[kaivenom]

I really like your writings about one piece dilfs, can you write one about what turns them on with fem reader?

What turns the One Piece Dilfs on HCS

Characters: Mihawk, Doflamingo, Crocodile, Smoker,Shanks.

Masterlist

Dracule Mihawk

Control yourself.

I mean, when someone is threating you, you are on a high stress situation, etc and you don't loose your cool, that makes him instantly hard.

Matching his style, cause in the end we know he is a fashion men and seeing you with that style makes him feel things.

Cuts, but not that he made them, when you are in battle all cut and bruised but still on your feet and determined to win the battle.

Helping him cutting his hair, this may sound strange but we know this man has a really careful imagen and when you are sat on his lap or the sink and you are trimming his moustache, he is eager for you to finish.

Donquixote Doflamingo

Suplicate, he loves when you get on your knees and ask him for something.

Being mean, especially if it's to other people, he feels like you are matching his cruel personality and he loves it.

Trying to reach him to kiss, simply size kink related.

Seeing you not flinch when he tries to scare you, that's a real challenge and when you succeed he goes hard.

You getting the lead, it's means that you are capable of getting what you want and take it from him, he would never let you be dom but he loves when you try it.

Crying (from pleasure) or just seeing your body after you two had fucked, this is a double edged sword cause he just finished and suddently he is back up.

Sr. Crocodile

You putting on things that he bought you, he loves to see that you are covered in HIS gifts for you.

Calling him sir, everyone does it but there is something on how you say his title that gets him twitching everytime.

Blowing smoke on your mouth, just yes.

Back massages, the tact of your hands in such an intimate moment makes that all the massages ended with a "happy ending".

When you wait for him to get home, especially if you manage to stay awake and ussually with a lingerie.

That's the other point, lingerie, he just loves how it fits oyur body, plus if you use it outside the house.

Smoker

Giving orders, even if you aren't his superior, he loves when you command him what to do.

Seeing you in uniform, if you work for the marine he has a really hard time seeing you at work, literally.

Workouts, seeing you sweating and pant always makes your sharing trainings end up with a steamy session.

Praise him, for like anything, this man just needs reassurance from you.

Seeing you act under stressfull situations, he tends to be the cold hearted one on that kind of situations but when you are that too, he mest.

Akagami Shanks

Seeing you mad, with everyone else or with him, that's why he ussually get's on your nerves.

Seeing you on short clothes, really basic but when you get to a summer island and you take the bikinis for a ride, he is the happiest horniest men ever.

Tracing his scars, espeally his eye one. It makes him vulnerable at first but soon after he melts under your touch.

Eating lollipops or juicy meals, it bring him so many memories about him cumming on your mouth that he just have the need to repeat it.

Taking his charge, when he is sick or something and you just assume the rol of captain, even though he should be dying of a fever, all the hot goes somewhere else.