#The way he talks about the women is fucking gross

[whysamwhy123]

I'm sure all of you who (rightfully) complain about AEW's shitty sexist commentary are just as mad at Nigel for spending the entirety of the Toni/Taya match objectifying Taya and making gross, pervy comments about her and how he wants to fuck her, right? Right?! RIGHT??!! 🙂🙂🙂

[sleepy-crypt1d]

i'm gonna be autistic about borderlands for a sec, everyone stay with me okay

i do not understand why the borderlands games try to make moxxi so important to jack, i dont get it, genuinely it doesn't make sense

so, spoilers for BL2, the pre-sequel, tales from the borderlands, and BL3 moxxi's heist- the general info you need is that jack and moxxi canonically dated for a period of time between the first game and TPS, how long this was we arent sure but we can make a guess that at the VERY most it was less then six months of them being together

we can piece this together by the vague timeline of TPS happening about a year or less after the first game

(this is estimated by the fact that Athena said she worked with jack five years ago, meaning TPS happened five years ago by the time the second game takes place and five years is also the amount of time that's passed between the first and the second game so- TPS took place in a very short few month period after the first game)

now we know that they couldn't have been together for long because moxxi was together with BOTH mordecai AND jack during this only a few month period of time between games- this is confirmed in a line of dialogue from BL2 where mordecai says moxxi left him for jack at the end of BL1 but then in TPS moxxi and jack are already broken up, which means they could have only been together for a few months for the timeline of five years to make sense! at the VERY most they were together for like, three months or even just a few weeks. all that matters is that it was not very long

in BL2 there's also a line about jack destroying moxxi's fighting dome because he thought she cheated on him, which is a thing he does AS handsome jack not as the normal dude jack he was when they broke up, the reason for which is still unknown but we know it was Vaguely Messy which is like whatever, sure, that sorta makes sense for him to do but what DOESN'T is the games trying to convince you that jack is in love with her.

okay you still following? cool

in TPS jack is visibly uncomfortable around moxxi and doesn't like working with her, even going as far as asking her to stop calling him 'sugar' a request she just, ignores and continues doing anyway, also during TPS is when jack gets together with nisha, his canon girlfriend he's had through the five years between BL1 and BL2. jack is INSANELY in love with nisha, we see this in the after credits art of both TPS and BL2 same with the way he talks to her/about her in TPS and in outside game material where he literally stutters when talking about her AND in the way he proudly displays her hat in his office in TFTBL alongside his most prized possessions.

he LOVES his woman with his entire heart, he gave her a whole town to prove it!! nisha is his everything outside of hyperion so, tell me, PLEASE why BL3 tried to tell us that jack was still in love with moxxi? because i do not get it at all

what im talking about here is 1. in moxxi's heist timothy is in love with moxxi, this is made canon in TPS where he fumbles through trying to flirt with her and in the heist dlc this is brought up again and timothy has a line about how jack asked moxxi on a date during his reign as handsome jack and sent timothy to go as him because he was busy but like, why would he do that? we know that jack is insane about nisha why would he then?? ask his ex that he visibly hates on a date??? and then 2. they added a fucking painting of her in his office in the casino.

i do not even know where to begin on how much i hate that detail

when you get to jack's office in the casino there are two paintings you find, one is of angel- makes sense, is his daughter who he loves even if he is really bad at it, it's the same as him having the picture of her in his office on helios, he loves his daughter, a painting of her being here is in line with everything else!! plus it's really pretty and i like it

then across from that is a painting of moxxi, which makes no fucking sense!!! why isn't it nisha!! it SHOULD be nisha!! the woman he is CURRENTLY TOGETHER WITH AND MADLY IN LOVE WITH????

i have DETESTED this detail since i first played the dlc, as much i love moxxi's heist and credit it as my favorite borderlands dlc the whole 'moxxi is jack's true love' thing makes me so confused?? they dated for MAYBE three months between BL1 and TPS and then he got into a five year long committed relationship that is never properly explored in the games and then the devs have the gall to say they wish they had done more with nisha like!!! good news you still could have!! but you didn't

anyways, i apologize for this, it has just been bothering me for months and i had to get it out and see if anyone else had noticed this and was bothered by it?? because it makes me go a little insane every time i think about it

then again maybe the character writing in BL3 is just bad

[davy-zeppeli]

so it turns out the weird guy who was out with my friend last Friday when I had to sit next to him actually makes her uncomfortable too. but they work in the same building so she can't just get rid of him. he's obsessed with her. she got fucking warnings from people about him. I am worried for her. I offered to be her girlfriend if needed to ward him off. he's asked her out twice and she said no twice. he waits for her at lunch. he steals her phone to take selfies. he always goes out with her. he refuses to leave her alone even when she tells him to. I am Fear.

[cursed-spirit-manipulation]

i like thinking about Geto being quietly obsessed with grieving Riko. He thinks about her constantly and refuses to ever forget her, but he also refuses to talk about her. He has the selfish impulse that he's the only one who's truly allowed to grieve her because he was there when she died, he was the one who failed her. And I think he hates that he has that impulse because it's selfish, because Gojo failed her just as much as him, and Kuroi was her family and Riko meant so much more to her, but that isn't enough to stop him from feeling like he's the most deserving of the guilt and grief. And I think he can't ever truly see Mimiko and Nanako as their own people- he sees them as proof of his worldview, they are the reasons for his beliefs made human, but also. They're a chance at redemption. Theyre a chance to go home

[neverendingford]

.

[euniexenoblade]

I think it's crazy how so many transfems have similar stories about tme people ignoring their distaste for Rocky Horror and I think it's wild how so many of us have trauma related to that movie caused by the people we saw as friends.

I think it's interesting that anytime transfems try to criticize the movie for transmisogynistic tropes, loads of tme people become combative, insulting, rude, they do not want us to critically analyze it, they do not want us to talk about it. I think it's equally interesting that if we then try to discuss the transphobia of Richard O'Brien, the creator, we are met with equal amounts of disdain. He has said trans women are not women, he has defended JK Rowling, but people will plug their ears about it. "He's nonbinary he can't be transphobic!" Or, transfems will just talk about the trauma of the movie, trauma related to the movie, there are so many joke posts about trans women getting forced to watch it by their tme "friends" and those are responded to with disdain and vitriol.

I have tried to rewatch the movie multiple times in the last decade, each time puts my brain back in that place where a cis woman friend who constantly talked about wanting me to be one of these characters for Halloween, betrayed my trust and put me in massive amounts of danger. When I watch it my brain goes back to the time I logged into Facebook to have some transphobe I don't know calling me FrankNFurter.

And it makes me wildly uncomfortable. These events in my life have just put a different sheen on the movie that makes it look so gross. And knowing I'm not the only one who feels this way about it so relieving, this movie held up as important LGBT cinema feels dehumanizing for me, and there's so many others that feel the same. But anytime we talk about it we are met with such contempt.

This isn't like, a coherent thing, it's just a personal rant. It feels so weird how tme people at large seem to walk over transfems over a movie. Which yeah yeah transmisogyny is a thing, but transfems not liking a movie seems so inconsequential. Why must we deal with the trauma of our so called friends not respecting our comfort, just to turn around years later and be ridiculed for having that trauma? It's just a fucking movie. And it has literally all the "man in dress bad" tropes we criticize other movies for. Why defend this movie to the death? It's just so annoying.

[lady-djarin]

on my radar

joel miller x f!reader (one shot)

warnings/tags: edited very little so sorry! dual pov, jackson era dark!joel, SMUT (oral fem receiving, p in v), stalker behavior from mr miller, age gap (50s/20s), joel is kind of a creep but reader is kinda into it, murder off screen, cannon typical violence, men harassing women (a guy is gross with reader/unwanted touching etc) NO R*PE, possessive talk and nicknames (mine, love, my girl, good girl etc), reader can be lifted by mr big man joel but otherwise no really specific details about readers body other than the usual fem. 18+ minors be gone!,

word count: 5.8k

* ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

YOU

You almost dropped it twice, your gloved fingers slipped around the smooth metal of the gun as you fumbled to pull the trigger. The clicker was quickly stumbling toward you even on its one and a half limbs. You and your patrol partner got separated when a small swarm of the dead caught you both off guard in a densely wooded area . As you were trapped in a corner of a hunting shed by the crawling thing, you felt your heart rate begin to rise and the feeling of dread set in that this might be your last moment.

You saw the blood hit your gloves before you even heard the blade hack into its head. Then the body hit the floor.

You looked up to find your patrol partner standing there with a machete clutched in his hand. He was looming over you with a look very close to anger creasing his brows and his chest heaving in exhaustion. He grabbed the gun out of your hand and grabbed your arm to pull you away from the writhing body. He hacked the large blade into the neck to fully decapitate the head then stabbed into the ear to finally kill it.

“Do you even know how to use this thing?” His voice had an edge to it, like he was mad, or scared as he held up the gun in your face.

You looked at him with tears brimming your lash line, the cold was seeming to freeze them before they tried to fall down your cheek. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“Have you ever been on patrol?” His eyes narrowed as they scanned your face, then your body.

“No.” Your mouth was so dry.

“Who sent you on patrol!? What the hell…,” he grumbled as he turned away. “I asked you a question.” He shot another nasty glare your way when you didn’t answer.

His statement kind of shocked you, not a lot of people are blunt like that.

“Uhm, I asked Tommy, I wanted to help.”

“Fucking Tommy, sticking me with a kid.”

“Hey I might be new to this but I'm not a kid,” you chased after him and that didn't help your defense.

“Jesus…,” he was grumbling again and marching away, toward where you hid the horses. The two of you set out on patrol a couple hours before, your first time outside the gates in Jackson. You had heard rumors about Joel, people said he was ‘rough around the edges but good people’. You had seen him around the community and wondered if he was someone you could get along with. He seemed like he was an outsider, kind of like you. When you learned you were partnered with him you figured it was going to be difficult, but this was a little much.

You were on your way through the state trying to get to where your dad lived in Sundance when you ran into some trouble near their camp and they took you in until you recovered. They stitched you up after they found a nasty gash on your ribs when you were discovered fighting off a pack of stalkers. After arriving at the Jackson community, you learned that Sundance was completely overrun. The sparse community there hunkered down in their homes after the outbreak but with the large swarms that came through the area, pretty much everyone fled and went their own ways. You could barely stand the thought that your dad was caught in the middle but he was strong, he could find his way out.

He had to.

So you remained in Jackson, becoming a part of the community, and everyone in the community had to help out somehow. You felt indebted to Tommy and the community for helping you and making you feel at home here after your recovery. That's why you wanted to go on patrol, you felt like you could help. Joel clearly didn't agree.

That last fucking thing he wanted to do was teach some rookie how to handle themselves on patrol. He was pissed and you could see it in the tense bunching of his shoulders as he rode on in front of you. You felt kind of bad for having Joel take care of you back there but he didn't have to be such an ass about it.

“Hey,” you rode up next to him. “Look I know I'm not who you wanted to be on patrol with but just give me a chance ok? I'm just trying to do a job here.”

He barely looked your way, he just kind of grunted before urging his horse over the final path into Jackson.

Alright then.

You didn't see those broad hunching shoulders for a couple days after, though he clearly had been talking about you. Tommy took you off patrol so Joel obviously made his concerns clear to his brother. When you did see him it was from across a room or passing in the street, but even in brief passes it felt like a tension was always present. His brows would bunch in the middle as he scanned you. It always felt like a judgment maybe, or some kind of disgust the way he would observe you. You quite honestly thought he hated you.

JOEL

You looked cute when you were mad, actually to Joel you always looked cute. Your cheeks were pink with the morning cold, your breath steamed in the air as you huffed through your nose. You were mad because he was ignoring you, and he was ignoring you because he was scared shitless when he came into that hunting hide and found you cornered by one of the dead. It scared the living shit out of him to think about how you were almost torn apart.

He doesn't remember the exact day that he started to care a little too much about you, it was a slow thing. It took over his life, watching you as you became integrated into the fabric of the town. The people of Jackson welcomed you and you welcomed them right back. People loved you and you got along with pretty much everyone. He started to notice you when he saw you and Ellie chatting about something girl related in the mess hall. He noticed how you seemed to genuinely invested in your conversation with Ellie, hanging on to her every word. Next thing he knows he's thinking about you every waking hour, and you haunt most of his dreams. It feels like you are a presence in his chest that he can't carve out and he has tried.

Joel had tried to occupy himself by relieving the tension himself, trying to dissolve the desire he had for you. It didn't work, of course, but he couldn't help himself.

He refused to actually make any kind of relationship with you, he felt like it would look inappropriate. He was a grumpy gray haired man and you were young and bright, he felt like he would be too rough for you anyway. He was a broken man, his hands were dirty with death and guilt and blood. He could see the innocence in your eyes, the way you smiled with your whole heart when talking to people, especially someone he cares for.

Maybe those were the moments he truly started to have real feelings for you, seeing the way you cared for Ellie. Everytime he would see you it made his heart skip a beat, it almost confused him at first, like his heart was waking up from a decades long nap. His chest hurt with how intensely he was starting to ache without you near, it only ever stopped when he saw you or felt you close or smelled your shampoo as you walked by. It was the same as everyone else as there was a lady in Jackson who made everyone soap but still when it lingered after you it smelled like heaven to Joel.

All that to say, Joel still felt like it was wrong to pursue you. You were and always will be the one that got away.

He needed to stay away.

YOU

It had been a couple weeks or so, maybe longer since you saw those grumpy brown eyes. You had started to miss him, as painful as it was to admit. Even though he was barely a colleague, definitely not a friend, you were missing the way… he was mean to you? No, that can’t be right. Why would you miss a man that is anything but nice around you?

Tommy had found you another job working at the local watering hole/dining hall, as the patrol thing clearly wasn’t going to work. He was walking you around the hall, introducing you to the people you would be working with when you heard a familiar voice.

“Hey Tommy, you here?”

“Yea Joel, in here.”

Shit.

“Oh hey Joel…” You wanted to keel over and die.

”H-hey.” He seemed… odd.

They chatted about something security related and you were introduced to the hall supervisor. As you talked on one end of the room, Joel and Tommy were on the other and it felt like neither of you could look away from the other. Your eyes kept finding each other, each time it felt longer and longer, like the world was falling away. It felt much different than the last time you spoke, like he might not actually hate you. It was an odd feeling, having his eyes on you, he was almost predatory.

Even as he looked over what felt like every couple seconds, he still had this pinched, angry look on his face.

But it was hard to look away. Joel was mesmerizing but you knew deep down he could never be interested the way you would want him to be. He was a grumpy older man that wanted nothing to do with the new young girl in town.

You didn’t see him for a while after that.

JOEL

Joel Miller was by no means a good man. A good man wouldn’t be watching you like this, following an unsuspecting woman around town. A good man wouldn’t watch you as you walked around the Jackson streets, minding your business, talking to your new found friends.

Ever since seeing you again at the dining hall he couldn’t rid his mind of you, as hard as he tried. He knew he would ruin you if you let him, if he even got one taste he would be addicted. Not like he wasn’t now, leering at you talking to patrons at your job. He felt dirty in a way, like he wasn’t allowed to look, not allowed to have the urge to bash in the head of any man who looks at you wrong. Like the guy you were helping now, Mike, every time you turned away to get him what he asked for, he could see his slimy gaze caressing your curves.

He felt like he was going crazy, not being able to be near you like he truly wants. He wasn’t sleeping well, barely eating enough to keep him upright and almost missed patrol on more than one occasion. His mind was playing tricks on him, he would find you in dreams, wake up to find you cooking breakfast in his kitchen or walking hand in hand down the streets of Jackson. The cruel reality that he would never have that always hit him hard in the morning when the sunlight came streaming over his bedspread.

He often found himself turning over, searching for you.

Sometimes they were nightmares, visions of you being attacked by the dead or one of Jackson’s very own.

That’s why he was here, making sure you were safe from the dangers of this world. It was his job.

He was there until you got off work, gathering your belongings and heading out the door when Mike popped around the corner. Joel was immediately on high alert, watching the man’s every move as he advanced on an unsuspecting you. He stalked after the two of you, staying just out of sight. His blood boiled when he saw Mike call after you.

She’s mine, he thought.

He stayed across the street, just in case things went sideways. In case he put his hands on what didn’t belong to him.

“Hey! Saw ya leaving work, how was your night?” Ok, nice enough but Joel knew he was clearly waiting for you to leave work.

“It was ok, just tired and ready to go home.” You were being polite but clearly trying to convey that you were going home, alone. That’s my girl.

“I’d like to talk to ya though, ya know i’ve seen ya ‘round and think you’re real cute. Come on, please? One chance?” He’s persistent, that's for sure. Walking the line there, Mike.

“That’s sweet but I’m not really looking for anyone right now, I just got here a few months ago…” You kept walking and you kept your eye contact away from him, smart girl.

“If you give me a chance I’ll show ya I’m worth it. I promise baby.” You were not his baby.

“I’m not your baby, Mike. Please, I just want to go home.” You turned towards him now with determination in your tired eyes.

Mike clearly wasn’t hearing you, or just not caring because as you tried to turn away he grabbed your arm and pinned your back against a wall.

He’s dead.

YOU

I’m dead. This stupid asshole is going to kill me. Your mind was racing as you looked for ways out. Mike’s front was almost completely pushed against yours now as he trapped you against the brick wall. You could now smell the alcohol on his breath now that he was on top of you. You tried to break free, maybe he was drunk enough where you could shake him off. You could tell that wasn’t the case when he groaned in delight.

“Mhmm, keep doing that baby. I like feeling ya move that pretty body.” You wanted to puke, his greasy beard and sour breath was assaulting your space. You froze your body in an attempt to get him off you but he leaned in, trying to capture your lips. You whipped your head to the side and squeezed your eyes shut trying to block out whatever he might do next. Only, when you expected his lips or something on you, there was nothing. His entire weight was gone and you almost slumped to the floor in relief. When you opened your eyes, there was nothing, no one in sight, not even a sound. Mike was nowhere to be seen, nor was anyone else. If you weren’t so relieved that the creep was gone, you’d be freaked out. It felt like one of those eerie horror movies you watched before the word turned into one itself.

You weren’t really sure what else to do other than go home. You walked the quiet streets towards your small house and barricaded your door that night, just to be safe.

…..

“Have you heard?! I can’t believe it!” Angela’s voice shook you out of your tired daze. No matter how you tried to occupy your mind or sleep last night you couldn’t shake what Mike did to you. “It was Mike! That’s who it was that was found behind the dinner hall.”

Mike? Did you hear her right?

“Wait, Mike, like creepy Mike?”

“Yes!” Angela never learned how to not raise her voice.

Mike was dead. He was dead behind where you worked after he assaulted you. That seemed… convenient. Did that make you a bad person?

“They are calling everyone to the town hall for an announcement.” This was the only time they have done this in the short time you’ve been here.

Everyone walked over and filled the hall wall to wall. Tommy, Maria and a few other members in charge of running Jackson stood on the stage of the building that looked to once be a school auditorium, including Joel. Your eyes caught him up there as soon as you walked in, recognizing his brown curls anywhere. Tommy walked up to the top of the stage and everyone immediately quieted down, they clearly respected him.

“Hey ya’ll… Uh, unfortunately it's not good news that calls us together today.” He was clearly nervous. “One of our own is gone, Mike Walton. Now I know in this world losing someone happens more often than we would expect but this one is different. It happened in our walls and we think, committed by one of our own.”

Murder. He was killed. Fuck.

The crowd was starting to murmur and quietly panic. You felt responsible somehow, like you being the last one to see him, you think, meant… something. You had to tell them what happened last night, if only to make sure they know now instead of finding out some other way. So they know you're not hiding anything.

You stayed after the crowd cleared, listened to Tommy assure everyone that they are safe and he is putting security measures in place. You went up to the stage and caught Maria’s attention, you felt comfortable with her and maybe she would be more understanding. She really helped you assimilate when you recovered and felt kind of like a sister in a way.

“Hey sweetie, how ya doing?”

“I need… I need to tell you something.”

She took you to a more private area and you told her what happened the night before. She listened dutifully as you recounted your story and it really made it strangely better to talk about it. It was by no means easy to forget but knowing someone was listening helped. After you finished and she gave you a reassuring hug, she brought you back to Tommy… and Joel.

“Ok hon, I will need to tell Tommy about this, I’ll only include the necessary things.” You nodded knowing you could trust both of them with the news. “Joel, would you be able to walk her home? I don’t want to take any chances here.” Maria did say to you privately that she was going to treat this as if you were in danger in some way, in case this turned out to be about you.

He only nodded in your direction, extending his arm, signaling you to lead the way. You walked the streets, the silent tall man trailing behind you. You stopped so abruptly that Joel backed up in surprise.

“I don’t need you walking behind me like a bodyguard.”

“Where should I walk?” His voice dripped with something dark.

“W-well…I don’t know, next to me like a normal person?”

All he does is silently walk up to you and nod forward urging you on. You kept walking, feeling Joel’s arm brush up against yours and the tension was building before either of you said anything. You arrived at your building in silence and he walked you up the steps, more than you were expecting from the distant man. You paused as you opened the door and realized something, if Maria is right and someone is after you, they could be in your house.

“Y’ok?” His voice was low and rough.

“Uh… actually, no. Joel, would you be able to come in… and uh, check it out? Just to make sure, I don’t know…someone’s not— not in there?”

You swore his eyes softened at your nervous request, maybe he felt bad. He followed you inside and had you wait by the door as he surveyed the rest of the house. He came back within only a few minutes and you were relieved it was quiet in the house.

“You’re all good here darlin’,” he stood by the kitchen counter almost like he was avoiding leaving.

But you didn’t want him to leave.

JOEL

He knew no one would be in your house, there was no one after you. Except him. He saw Mike put his hands and other parts on you and something flipped in his brain. He went feral and had been looking for an opportunity to take this guy out. He was a menace to the community but Tommy said there was no legitimate reason. Usually he wanted a blatant offense to take action or even exile someone. Mike was sneaky, that was the problem, he was good at hiding his deplorable behavior towards women behind being friendly with most of the male Jackson population.

Joel was so sick of it, and he likes to pretend that’s why he was there that night, not that he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. For weeks now he had been everywhere you were, coincidence of course. He needed to make sure that you were safe, that someone would be there for you. Even if he couldn’t have you, he needed to watch over you. You had completely consumed his life, every waking and sleeping hour he had his mind on you.

The worst of it he thinks was a few weeks into his obsession, he found himself across the street from your house, crouched in the bushes like a maniac. He watched your silhouette as you turned about the room, picking things up, gathering our belongings and just generally going about your home life. It was so magical to him to see you living your life unencumbered by the burden of how cruel people can be. He had to make sure no one took that from you.

He was pulled from his thoughts by your sweet voice. “Joel? You ok?”

“Y-ya sorry, what did you say?”

“I asked if you wanted a drink.”

“Oh, uh- sure sweetheart.”

He watched you go over to a cabinet and pull out a dwindling bottle of something dark that made his mouth water. You had good taste.

That's my girl.

You slid over the glass with a small amount of whiskey and you each sipped it slowly.

“Thanks for walking me home, I really appreciate it.”

“No problem darlin’, but I'm sure you’re safe. No one’s gonna hurt ya.”

“Sure doesn’t feel that way.”

YOU

“I promise you, no one will ever…ever hurt you again.” The way Joel said it, it was like he had murder in his eyes. He was so intense that you believed him, like he would protect you. You felt a thrill pass down your spine from his gruff voice. He was always a rugged man with his height, his broad shoulders and intimidating dark eyes but now, he looked downright deadly.

For a minute you worried that Joel could be responsible— no he would never. Even if he did, could you really be upset at him making this community safer? Did that make you a bad person?

He was looking at you like prey he wanted to devour. It made your pulse race, it made your core throb. The tension had been growing since the walk back and it was evident to both of you. Joel circled the kitchen counter to come right in front of you. Both your glasses forgotten, he caged you in with his hands on the counter bracketing your hips. Without a word he brought a hand up to cup your cheek, his calloused skin caressed your skin much lighter than you were expecting. The only sound in the house was your heavy breathing as he stared down at you. You couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something off about Joel. Not necessarily bad but just something sharp and scary, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as he slowly leaned down to hover his lips over yours, asking for more.

Even if Joel was a bad man, fuck it.

You leaned up slightly to meet his lips and all self control went out the window. His hands were all over you in a second, hips pressed into yours as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. Your head spun as he licked into you and nipped at your bottom lip causing a whimper to escape your lungs. It all became very frantic as he lifted you up onto the counter and bit and kissed his way down your neck. You knew there would be evidence of it the next morning and it kind of excited you to know you’d have Joel’s marks on you. His greedy hands were groping and squeezing every inch of you and you couldn’t get enough. With your own shaky hands you tried to unbutton his shirt but Joel stopped you.

“R’ya sure baby girl?” You swore you felt slick dripping down your inner thighs. “Jus’ gotta tell me and I’ll stop, ’k?”

All you could do was nod.

“I need words.”

“Y-yes,” you practically moaned.

“Good girl.” Fuck, his voice. Your hips rolled forward on the counter, trying to gain any friction. Your clit was pulsing with need and both of you were getting impatient. “Thank god, otherwise I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.” He mumbled it almost to himself.

You gasped as he pulled off the counter and led you up the stairs in silence. Any other person would think he was angry but you knew, he was anything but. He led you to your bedroom and it briefly dawned on you that he was leading you there, he knew where your bedroom was. There was always something intense about Joel, you knew that from the start, it's one of the reasons you were drawn to him. But due to recent events you were starting to question just how depraved he might be. You hated to assume anything but you somehow knew deep down that he was the one who… saved you from Mike. That’s what it was, he saved you from being killed, or worse.

Once in your bedroom Joel turned and pushed you against the wall, attaching his lips to your neck.

He hummed deep in his throat, almost a moan. “Mhmm, darlin’ you are so sweet. Y’smell so good.” He was mumbling into your throat, half kissing, half biting. You were each pulling clothes off the other, desperate to feel skin. When Joel had you completely bare for him, you tried to cover yourself, mostly out of habit.

“You… you are perfect baby.” His eyes dark with desire as he pulled your hands up his mouth and kissed your knuckles. “Don’t cover up, I wanna see ya.” He pulled your hands away as he backed you up to the bed and gently pushed you back onto the soft quilt. You stared up at him, taking in his form, he was still in his jeans but bare from the waist up. You admired his graying hair that led below his belt, mouth watering at the bulge underneath. Before you could reach for his belt, he looped his strong arms under your knees and pulled your butt toward the end of the bed. With cracking knees he knelt in front of the bed and his face became level with your dripping core. His eyes were locked on you, his lips almost matching the way you drooled between your legs.

“Joel—,” you were unable to form words, the breath perpetually caught in your throat.

“Shhh, I know hon, I gotcha,” his voice was lower than you ever heard it, something dangerous simmering below the surface.

“Joel, wait—,” he moved up your body at your request. “I just… I’m confused,” you were shaking and out of breath but you needed to ask him. “I thought you didn’t like me… it’s just every time we would see each other you seemed to avoid me at all costs and now…”

“The only reason I was acting like that was because I liked you… too much.” His eyes hovered directly over yours, deep pools of obsidian overtaken with the desire. “I thought I was protecting you, from myself. But I… I,” he almost seemed nervous in a way, but there was still the underlying grumble of anger in his chest.

“What?”

“I see now that I have to protect you from everyone else.” He said it with such a darkness settled over his face, and it took you a minute to register what he was admitting.

He killed Mike. Holy shit.

Your whole body froze and you felt your eyes widen and breath pick up. But you also had this deep feeling in your gut, was that arousal? Were you attracted to this? That dropping feeling in your stomach told you that you were. Jesus, did that make you a bad person? Fuck it.

You grasped your fingers through his hair, pulling him down to you as you attached your lips to his.

JOEL

You were a vision, puffy lips wet from kissing, eyes blown wide as your chest heaved. “You protected me?”

Oh, fuck me.

“Of course baby girl,” he needed you to know this was all for you. He was yours and you were his. “No one will take you from me.”

He worked his way down your body, kissing and nipping his way to your center again. He spread your legs and stared into your dripping folds as he got onto his knees again. You whimpered and moaned his name and he relished the sounds, he loved hearing and seeing you react to his touch. He wanted nothing more than to hear you scream his name.

“I wanna feel ya’ cum on my tongue darlin’,” he loved the way your pussy drooled for him. Joel felt like a man starved, like he was finally seeing water after a year in the desert. He licked a broad stripe up your folds then sealing his lips around your clit and sucking. You screamed and he felt your thighs wrap around his head only spurring him on further. He pulled your legs in front of him and pushed to the mattress, opening you up further for his enjoyment. When he worked two fingers into you, he knew you were close based on your shaking and whimpering.

“I-I’m so close baby,” you sounded so cute, so desperate. “I need— please Joel.”

He wanted you to fall apart, speeding up his movements he knew it wouldn’t be long now. He curled his fingers while lapping at your clit, he felt your walls flutter and tighten around his fingers.

“Cum for me angel.”

You broke. Joel’s fingers were covered in your juices and you screamed his name as you came. He kept up his movements to prolong your pleasure, he reveled in the way your legs shook with overstimulation.

“Oh… my god,” you sighed as Joel crawled his way back up to your face, slotting himself between your legs.

YOU

He entered you slowly. You could feel every vein and edge of him and you were thankful he readied you with his fingers because Joel was not a small man. He started slow, presumably for your benefit, but soon his pace picked up and the crown of his dick was hitting a spot inside of you that made you see stars.

“Fuck— You feel so good,” he puncuate each word with with his hips, each time driving you up the bed. You grabbed onto his shoulders, trying to gain leverage but you were unable to do anything except take his brutal pace. He was past holding himself back now, you swore you felt him in places you never thought possible. You recognized somewhere in the back of your mind that letting the man who… murdered someone for you fuck you into your mattress might be a bad move. Too bad he was too good at it for you to care. You felt the coil of your orgasm tightening in your lower stomach as Joel leaned back, looming over you like a dark angel.

“I want you to touch yourself,” he pulled one of your hands towards your clit. “Cum for me baby.”

You pressed and circled your fingertips into the bundle of nerves, your pleasure just seconds from cresting. Joel must have felt it because he gripped your hips and pulled you into his lap, picking up his pace and punching into your g-spot.

“Oh fuck!— I’m gonna cum baby…plea—,” you couldn’t even get the rest of the word out as your orgasm crashed into you. You think you might have blacked out as your vision went blank for a moment and you think you heard yourself screaming. Joel kept up his pace and rode you through it all.

“Mmm that’s it, that’s my good girl…,” his voice was low and gravely in your ear when he leaned over, pushing almost all his weight on top of you while he chased his high.

“P-please Joel, cum inside m-me,” his harsh movements made it hard to talk, hard to breathe. You didn’t care though, you were desperate to feel him finish inside you.

“Inside you baby? Ngh, tha—that’s my good gi—,” he didn’t finish his sentence either as he almost collapsed on top of you. You wrapped your legs around his hips and held him there as he filled you up. He grunted and groaned in your ear as he came down, he pulled out slowly making sure you were comfortable and kissed his way down your neck and chest. “Stay here baby.” You laid there unable to move and watched his naked form as he found your bathroom with ease and came back with a warm washcloth. As he cleaned you, you recalled his words, ‘my good girl’. His.

“Joel?” He didn’t respond with words, only hummed at you to continue while he cleaned your inner thighs. “Did you mean it? I’m…,” you were hesitant to speak it, what if you were wrong? What if it was something he said in the heat of the moment. You felt the bed dip and he settled beside you, towel discarded.

“Use your words honey, what’s on your mind?” He moved a bit of hair out of your face and waited patiently for you to continue.

“I’m yours? Not just tonight.” You met his gaze with timid eyes.

“Yes, of course. Y’have been since I first saw you.” He kissed you deep, lips prying yours apart. “I protected you, remember? I wasn’t gonna let anyone hurt you, especially not him.”

He looked at you with nothing but truth in his eyes. He really did kill Mike, holy shit. He did it for you. In this world maybe you could rest easier knowing you had someone to protect you like that. Joel may be a scary man, but you had nothing to fear for yourself with him around. You slept that night more soundly than you had in ten years. wrapped in the strong arms of a man who chased your nightmares away.

[sugugasm]

୨୧ ˗ˏˋ OTAKU HOT GIRL ! | suguru & satoru x yn “i like a tall woman with a nice, big ass.” ꒰ 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑠 ! ꒱ this is me being delusional srry, but thinkin ab gojo & geto fucking tall, curvy! reader after she begs them to watch her favorite anime with her . . like ugh rn. also forgive me if this is pure degeneracy. i was bein a horn dog n’ there’s no plot rlly :/ inspired by the one n only stallion ofc, we luv u mama

꒰ 𝑛𝑠𝑓𝑤 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡 ꒱ : blk fem reader, uses she/her pronouns, usage of pet names like cocksleeve, love, baby, babe, sweetheart, etc. positions included such as doggystyle, double pen, themes such as choking, bratty reader, dom! satoru & suguru, rough sex ??, oral fem recieve, oral male receive, dirty talk, mentions of a size kink, lots n lots of cum, mmm yum so gross — 5.3𝑲 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕

“hurry up, boys! m’ gonna’ be mad if you miss the intro. it ruins the whole experience of watching for the first time!”

“we’re comin’, woman. calm down.”

both satoru and suguru scurry around in your shared kitchen, gathering the rest of whatever horrid snack combinations they could find before jogging lightly to make their way over to you on the couch. with your feet positioned criss-crossed n’ a warm bowl of popcorn sizzling down in your lap, the only thing really missing were the two imbeciles of men you mistakenly decided to roommate with around a year or two ago.

you roll your eyes fondly as satoru and suguru finally plop down on either side of you, their arms laden with an assortment of junk food. satoru’s got a family-sized bag of cool ranch doritos tucked under one arm and a jar of peanut butter in the other hand, while suguru’s juggling a pack of oreos, a can of whipped cream, and what looks suspiciously like . . ew, a jar of pickles. what?

“are y’all for real right now?” you laugh, eyeing their haul with a mix of amusement and disgust. “ we’re about to watch anime, not enter a county fair eating contest.”

“hey, don't knock it til’ you’ve tried it,” satoru grins, ripping open the doritos and the peanut butter simultaneously. his gaze dips briefly to your chest, taking in the way your soft pink lace cami clings to your curves. “besides, we’ve gotta’ fuel up. you said this show is, and i quote, ‘a cultural reset that will redefine our understanding of feminism and body positivity in media.’ i don’t know man, that sounds intense.”

suguru snorts, unscrewing the oreo package. his eyes briefly lingering on the bare expanse of your thighs, the flimsy matching shorts riding high as you curl your legs underneath you. “pretty sure she just meant it’s got a lot of ass shakin’ and women empowerment. still, sounds pretty lovely.”

you chuck a kernel of popcorn at his head, giggling when it bounces off his nose. “excuse you, that’s a very tiny observation of ‘megan - sama : twerk hero for a new generation.’ s’ a journey of a woman’s adventure to self-love and confidence in a world that constantly tries to tear her down. she uses her sexuality as a form of power. she like, challenges the male gaze and double standards with, well . . every clap of her ass.”

satoru blinks at you, a glob of peanut butter sliding off the dorito he’s holding halfway to his mouth. “that . . was surprisingly deep, yn.”

“mmm, that's our girl,” suguru says proudly, throwing an arm around your shoulders. his fingers skimming over your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. “beautiful, brilliant, and able to find meaning in the most unlikely places. like a twerking anime.”

you elbow him playfully in the ribs, warmth blooming in your chest at the casual praise even as heat prickles across your skin at the contact. “you’re jokin’ but m’ serious,” you whine, “it celebrates a body type that’s so often shamed and or fetishized, like i dunno’ . . she faces some of the worst - but she never gives up, and that self-love is what ultimately gives her the strength to change the world around her in the end . .” you keep gushing, waxing poetic about megan’s badassery and the show’s powerful message. the boys listen attentively, nodding along, but you don't miss the way their gazes keep drifting south, tracing your figure with barely-concealed appreciation.

you hated to go on your fourth tangent of the week right now, but god, representation really did matter. it was practically rare to see your body type in entertainment — let alone that exact body type standing at a whopping 5’10. this was . . like you said, a real cultural reset.

a comfortable silence then settles as they finish taking it in, the low murmur of the anime’s opening theme — otaku hot girl, now filling the room. you sneak a glance at satoru out of the corner of your eye, surprised to find him looking thoughtful rather than skeptical like any other guy your age would.

“i can dig it,” satoru says slowly, popping a peanut butter dorito into his mouth. “more representation of different body types in media, s’ important. and i mean, objectively speaking . . .” he rakes his eyes over your form, lingering on the swell of your hips and ass. “i like a tall woman with a nice, big ass. ain't nothin’ wrong with a little extra somethin' to hold onto, y’know?”

you raise a brow, something playfully bold and a little reckless brewing in your chest. “is that so? didn’t know y’liked your girls thick, gojo.”

satoru swallows, adam's apple bobbing as his gaze snaps to yours. “no, yn. i love, my girls thick,” he says, voice pitched low. “well that and, exploring your sexuality n’ confidence in general is jus’ sexy . . as hell.”

“hmmm, i see. getou?” you turn to suguru, head cocked. “any thoughts?”

suguru’s smile is slow and devastating, dark promise in his eyes. “he’s not wrong. m’ sure you know that though. body like . . yours, s’the kinda canvas i could spend hours worshipping. takes an incel to not appreciate it, honestly.”

“oh please. all that bravado, but i can’t you couldn’t handle me even if you tried.” you shimmy your shoulders, drawing attention to the truly tremendous amount of cleavage your cami isn't concealing. “you'd probably bust in your boxers if you so much as touched this ass. thank youuu.”

but even as you say that with all the confidence in the world, you can’t help but to think . . ‘what if?’ what if they could? what if you were talkin’ straight out of your ass right now just to have it be thrown in your face later on? — no, never, couldn’t be.

and later on, as the end credits of the final episode roll, you stretch languidly, you’d forgotten about the thought, feeling pleasantly buzzed from two pretty drinks the three of you had earlier and the easy camaraderie of the night. satoru and suguru have been the perfect viewing companions, cracking jokes and providing commentary that had you in stitches more often than not.

but all in all, underneath the lighthearted banter, you can feel something else tiptoeing - a tension, an electricity that’s been building all night. it’s in the way satoru’s gaze lingers on the curve of your throat as you tip your head back to laugh. it’s in the heat of suguru’s palm on your knee, his thumb rubbing absent circles that inch higher and higher with each passing minute.

“so . .” satoru drawls as the autoplay timer counts down to the next season. “that was . . actually enlightening annnd i just followed megan on instagram. so, when will she be mine?”

“mhmm, told you,” you laugh, feeling loose and languid from the warmth of the alcohol in your veins and the solid press of their bodies on either side of you. “and i dunno, join the club. she’s a fuckin’ queen. knows what she wants and goes for it, she’s inspirational, and an overall bad bitch, duh — i want her too.”

“kinda like someone else we know,” suguru muses, a sly curl to his lips as he turns to face you. his eyes are dark, heated in a way that makes your breath catch. “ain’t that right, yn?”

you swallow, pulse picking up speed as you meet his loaded gaze. “oh? and who might that be?”

“you,” satoru says bluntly, shifting to angle his body towards you as well. the movement brings him close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off of him, the firm press of his muscular thigh against yours. “talkin’ all that shit earlier, bout’ how we couldn’t handle you. you think that, babe?”

oh . . so maybe you were wrong.

and they had planned on it proving that to you.

there’s a challenge in his tone, a dare that sends a frisson of anticipation skittering down your spine. you lick your lips, noting with a thrill how both their gazes zero in on the movement, “maybe i did,” you say, pitching your voice low and breathy. “what’re you gonna’ do about it?”

suguru makes a rough sound in the back of his throat, fingers flexing on your knee. “oh, well since you asked . . we can give a little demo - show you exactly what we’re gonna’ do about it. ain’t that right, satoru?”

“damn straight,” satoru growls, a wicked gleam in his eye. “whaddaya’ say, sweet thing? why don’t you go ahead n’ show us what makes you a hot girl, yn?” he finishes.

heart pounding, skin prickling with goosebumps, you lift your chin in clear provocation. “tch, whatever. bring it on then, bitches. show me what you’ve got.”

of course you’d challenge them. why wouldn’t you? you quite literally had the power of god and megan on your side.

twin groans meet your bold words, suguru’s hand tightening convulsively on your leg as satoru’s eyes blaze with intent. “don’t mind if we do,” satoru rasps, voice gone low and gravelly with want. “been fuckin’ gagging for it all night, watchin’ you all curled up and cozy in this tiny ass pajama set, lookin’ good enough to eat . .”

“gonna’ fuckin’ devour you,” suguru vows, already shifting to press hot, open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat. “gonna’ put this bratty little mouth to good use, fuck, been dyin’ to feel these pretty lips wrapped around my dick.”

you moan, head tipping back to grant him better access even as your hands come up to fist in satoru’s hair, dragging him down for a filthy, biting kiss. he groans into your mouth, licking past the seam of your lips to tangle his tongue with yours, one large hand palming roughly at your breast through the flimsy lace of your cami.

“fuckin’ tease,” he pants when you break apart for air, fingers already working at the tiny buttons holding the top closed. “prancin’ around in this scrap of nothin’ all night, like a slut. y’knew we wouldn’t be able to stop thinkin’ about you, baby.”

“why don’t you tell me?” you breathe, emboldened by the blatant need in their faces, the desperate flex of their hands on your body. “c’mon, boys, use your words. what’ve you been thinkin’ about doin’ to me all night, huh? how’re you gonna’ shut me up, put me in my place?”

“jesus fuckin’ christ,” suguru swears feelingly, wrenching himself away from your neck to stare at you with wild, hungry eyes. “keep talkin’ like that and i’m gonna lose it, i swear.”

“then lose it,” you purr, hooking a leg over his hip and using the leverage to grind yourself against his straining erection. he hisses, hips rocking forward to press the thick line of his cock harder against your aching center. “c’mon, sugu baby, show me how bad you want it. show me exactly what this bratty little tease does to you.”

“fuck, you fuckin’ - get her naked,” suguru snarls to satoru, already fumbling with the tie of your shorts. “fuckin’ get her naked right goddamn now, i can’t - i gotta’ taste her, gotta’ get my mouth on this sweet cunt before i fucking explode . .”

satoru doesn't waste any time, practically ripping your cami open in his haste to get at your bared tits. you cry out sharply as he latches onto one straining nipple, suckling hard and grazing the sensitized bud with his teeth. “oh fuck, oh god, yes!”

your shorts and panties are yanked down your legs, the sudden rush of cool air on your heated flesh making you gasp. and then suguru is shouldering past satoru to find his way between your thighs, pushing them open wide and burying his face in your dripping cunt with a guttural moan of satisfaction, “i call first,” he mumbles into your pussy.

satoru scoffs an agitated, “not fair, but whatever,” and you can’t help but to giggle at the sheer fact that they were quite literally bickering over who was gonna’ eat your pussy first.

“shut the fuck up — ”

“aht, aht! hey, all my munches get along so . . y’all about to argue all day or what?” you mutter, and as if they were being scolded back in their early sourcerer days - they hush, and then, “holy shit!” you whimper, back arching clear off the couch as suguru goes to town, licking and suckling at your clit like a man starved. “o-oh my god, sugu, you’re s’good . .”

“mm, y’like that, sweetheart?” satoru husks, sucking and then pulling off your nipple with a lewd pop. his hand palms roughly at your other breast, plucking at the stiff peak, drawing high, breathy cries from your throat. “like the way he eats this pretty pussy, fucks you with his tongue? gonna’ make you cum so hard you scream, baby, gonna’ make you fucking flood his mouth.”

“y-yes,” you gasp, fisting your hands in both their hair as suguru goes even harder, slipping two fingers into your clenching hole and pumping them in time with the relentless suction of his lips around your throbbing clit. “yes, fuck, m’gonna cum already, gonna’ come on your face sugu, please, fuck, m’ so close . .”

“that's it,” satoru coaxes, pinching your nipple viciously, making you yelp. “give it up, yn, fucking come for us like a good girl, wanna hear you scream . .”

suguru crooks his fingers just right, rubbing mercilessly against the spot that makes stars explode behind your eyelids, and you shatter with a raw sob of their names. your cunt clamps down vise-tight on his thrusting digits as you gush around them, release flooding his chin and dripping down his wrist.

he works you through the aftershocks with hitching praises and soft kitten licks, only pulling away when you start twitching from oversensitivity. he rocks back onto his heels, wiping and licking around his mouth with the back of his hand and tongue, eyes hazy and satisfied as he takes in your wrecked, limp form. “fuckin’ gorgeous,” he slurs, words edged with wonder. “shit - look at you, jesus, all fucked out and dripping just from my mouth. i told you i could spend hours between these thighs, baby, i wasnt lyin’.”

“h-hours, huh?” you manage, breath still coming in shuddery gasps. “that mean you’re done with me already, sugu?”

his eyes sharpen, a predatory curl to his lips that sends a bolt of heat straight to your core. “not even close, pretty girl. m’ jus’ gettin’ warmed up.”

“why don’t you let her catch her breath,” satoru suggests, something dark and intent in his gaze as his eyes rove over your naked, trembling body. he palms his cock through his sweats, hissing at the contact. “still gotta put that mouth to work, remember?”

your cunt clenches weakly at the implication, arousal already starting to rekindle in your veins. “gimmie’ a minute to recover and i’ll put it to work all night long,” you promise, licking your lips. “wanna’ choke on it, toru. want you to fuck my throat . . please.”

“jesus, fuck, you’re so nasty,” satoru groans, fisting a hand in your hair and dragging you up for a brief, brutal kiss. “gonna’ wreck you, baby. gonna’ fuckin’ ruin you for anyone else, mark you up inside n’ out until all you can think about is us, all you can feel is us stretching that hungry little pussy wide . .”

“oh please,” you whimper, already halfway there just from their words, their roving hands, the hot press of their bodies caging you in on either side. “god, please, i want it — fuck me stupid, i don’t care.”

“and we will,” suguru vows, fingers dipping back between your legs to circle your slick, twitching entrance. “gonna’ pump you so full of cum, baby, shit, gonna fuckin’ breed this cunt.” you keen high in your throat, the images they’re painting sending heat licking through your veins like wildfire. you want it, want them, with an intensity that’s scarce.

“so what’re you waiting for?” you rasp, disentangling yourself from their groping hands to shimmy off the couch and drop to your knees between their splayed thighs. you rest your palms high on their legs, thumbs teasing at the straining bulges tenting their sweats. “i believe i was promised a face fucking . . and y’know i hate broken promises. don’t make me beg.”

“brat,” satoru husks, eyes practically black with lust as he lifts his hips so you can tug his pants down his thighs. his cock springs free, thick and ruddy and leaking at the tip, and your mouth waters at the sight. “let’s see how cocky you are with your mouth full. won’t be able to sass when you’re chokin’ on dick.”

“choking? you promise, daddy?” you purr, shuffling closer on your knees, hands running teasingly up and down their thighs. suguru makes a strangled noise, hands clenching into fists at his sides like it’s taking everything in him not to grab you.

“open,” satoru demands hoarsely. “open that smart fucking mouth. lemme’ feed you.” you part your lips obediently, tongue darting out to swipe at the swollen head of his dick. he jerks like he’s been electrocuted, a guttural moan punching out of his chest as you proceed to lave at his cock like an ice cream cone, all kittenish licks and teasing flicks that have him cursing up a storm above you.

“gonna’ kill me,” he grits out, hips flexing like it's taking everything he has to keep from fucking up into your mouth. “yn, jesus, quit teasing and suck it, shit — suck it baby, please . .” deciding to put him out of his misery, you open wide and sink down, relaxing your throat to take him as deep as you can. he shouts, hands flying to your hair as you set up a steady rhythm, bobbing and sucking and swirling your tongue until he’s leaking a steady stream of precum down your throat.

suguru is panting harshly on your other side, fisting his own cock with short, rough strokes as he watches you work over satoru. “look so fuckin’ pretty with a dick in your mouth,” he praises raspily, thumb collecting the bead of moisture at his tip and reaching down to smear it across your lips where they're stretched wide around satoru. “made to be a fuckin’ eater, weren’t you sweetheart? made for us, made to take what you’re given, aren’t you?”

you whimper around your mouthful, the degradation making your cunt clench up hard. you redouble your efforts, relaxing your throat and sinking down until satoru’s cock is nudging the back of your throat, your nose pressed against his pelvis.

“holy fucking shit,” he wheezes, fingers tightening in your hair to hold you there. “oh my god, oh fuck, your fucking throat, m'gonna come, gonna come right down your slutty little neck . .”

“do it,” suguru growls, hand still fisting his own cock, the wet slap of skin on skin obscenely loud in the otherwise quiet room. “feed her that load, man, fucking paint her throat, make her gag.”

satoru cums with a hoarse shout, cock pulsing on your tongue as he empties himself down your throat. you swallow it all, working your tongue along the throbbing underside to draw out every last drop until he's shaking and pushing you off with an overwhelmed grunt. and you pull off with a gasp, lips swollen and spit-slick, chin wet with drool and the remnants of his release. before you can even catch your breath, suguru is grabbing you by the hair and dragging you over to his waiting cock, the head an angry purple and weeping steadily.

“looks like s’ my turn now, hm?” he grits out, tracing the seam of your lips with his cock, smearing the slickness around like obscene lipgloss. “back open, c’mon.”

you let your jaw drop wide once again, and then he’s pushing in, stretching your lips wide around his girth as he feeds you every thick, throbbing inch. he sets a punishing pace from the start, one hand cupped under your chin to feel his cock moving in your throat as the other winds tight in your hair, holding you still for his thrusts.

“oh fuck yeah,” he rasps, eyes fever-bright as he stares down at you, taking in your glazed eyes and drool-slick chin, the vulgar bulge of your throat. “takin’ it like a champ aren’t ya’? so pretty like this, baby. y’like it, like daddy’s cock buried in your throat like this?” you moan around him, looking up at him through your lashes as you hollow your cheeks and suck viciously — vacuum technique doing absolute wonders by the looks of it. he curses, rhythm faltering as his cock throbs warningly against your tongue.

satoru is suddenly there, pressing up against your back, arms banding around your waist as clever fingers find your aching nipples and pluck at them roughly. “your face is so pretty,” he husks in your ear, stubble rasping against your neck as he mouths at your throat. “it’ll look even prettier painted . . c’mon make him cum, you’ve earned it.”

the filthy words combined with the sharp mix of pleasure pain of his fingers on your nipples has you shuddering, cunt clenching down on nothing as a bolt of heat sizzles up your spine. suguru’s is close, you can tell by the way his thrusts are going erratic, his cock pulsing faster against your tongue.

“f-fuck, oh fuck, m’gonna cum,” he warns, high and tight, hips snapping forward once, twice more before he's pulling out abruptly, fisting his cock with desperate strokes. “open your mouth, fuck, stick out your tongue baby, wanna’ see it, fuckin’ shit!”

you obey mindlessly, tipping your face up and extending your tongue, a lewd, pornographic presentation. suguru loses it at the sight, shouting brokenly as his orgasm crashes over him, cock jerking in his grip as he paints your face with ropey streams of pearlescent white.

you moan shakily, back arching as some of his release hits your waiting tongue, the salty-musk taste of him flooding your senses. you feel debauched, utterly wrecked and still desperately turned on, your cunt a throbbing mess of need between your legs.

��holy shit!” suguru pants, slumping back against the couch, chest heaving. he takes in your cum - streaked face, the way you’re panting and squirming, still perched on your knees between them. “you’re a fuckin' vision, you know that? prettiest thing i’ve ever seen, all messy and marked up, fuck.”

“mmm, but she’s not finished though, are you baby?” satoru purrs, fingers drifting down to tease through your soaked folds, making you gasp and buck your hips. “look, she’s still hungry for it, so ready for more like the insatiable little slut you are. tell us what you need, sweetheart. tell us how you want us to wreck this pussy.”

“both of you,” you manage, voice a needy rasp. you reach down to circle your swollen clit, putting on a show for them. “want both you in me, filling me up t-til’ i can’t fuckin’ take it.”

“fuck,” satoru swears emphatically, cock already twitching with renewed interest. “yeah baby, we can do that, no problem. so sorry if we make you cry.”

“we gotta’ get her on the bed,” susguru demands, pulling you up and herding you towards satoru’s room. “need you spread out for us, wanna’ wreck you properly.”

you go willingly, eagerly, practically trembling with anticipation as they usher you into the bedroom, tearing their clothes off as they go. they descend upon you like men starved as soon as your back hits the mattress, hands and mouths roving over every inch of bared skin until you're writhing and keening beneath their attentions.

suguru pushes your thighs open and buries his face between them, groaning at the taste of your arousal. he licks into you like a man dying of thirst, tongue delving deep and curling just right to make you see stars. “fuckin’ drenched,” he mutters, pulling back just enough to circle your entrance with one long finger, gathering the slickness. “absolutely soaked for it, aren't you baby? dripping for our cocks, greedy little pussy desperate to be stuffed full.”

“please,” you whimper, back arching as he pushes two fingers knuckle-deep, pumping them lazily. “oh fuck, g-getou, more, need more!”

“ive got you,” satoru rasps, rolling on a condom and slicking himself up with lube. he shifts up the bed until he’s bracketing your head with his knees, the thick jut of his cock bobbing mere inches from your face. “gonna’ give this filthy mouth something to do while sugu opens up your hungry cunt, yeah? gonna’ fuck your throat while he fingers you sloppy, get you nice and ready for us both.”

you open eagerly for him, relaxing your jaw as he feeds his cock past your lips. he groans at the wet heat of your mouth, at the way you hollow your cheeks and suck, working your tongue along the throbbing underside.

“there you go,” he praises roughly, grabbing a handful of your hair and giving a shallow thrust. “just like that baby, fuck, feel like heaven around my dick . .”

you moan around him as suguru works a third finger into your dripping cunt, scissoring and curling them just right to graze that spot inside you that makes your toes curl. the dual stimulation has you shaking, the obscene sounds of satoru’s cock gliding through the slick clutch of your throat and suguru’s fingers pumping wetly into your pussy filling the room.

“she’s good to go,” suguru declares after a few endless minutes, pulling his fingers free and wiping them clean on the sheets. he slicks himself up, shifting into position between your spread thighs. “gonna’ wreck this pussy, baby, you have no idea how bad i’ve wanted this, wanted you. i think about you while i dream . .”

how could something said be so blended with both degeneracy and sweetness.

he pushes in on one smooth glide, the breath punching from his lungs in a guttural moan as your walls clench down greedily around him. “mm, what a tight fit. shit. gripping me, yn, goddamn.”

you sob brokenly around satoru’s cock as suguru bottoms out, hips flush against yours. he gives you a moment to adjust before he starts moving, rolling his hips in deep, devastating grinds that have you seeing stars.

satoru keeps rocking into your mouth, hands fisted in your hair to hold you in place for his thrusts. you take it eagerly, gagging a little when he hits the back of your throat but relaxing to let him push deeper, until your nose is pressed against his pelvis with every pump of his hips.

“m’ gonna’ cum down your throat again,” satoru grits out after a few minutes of spit-roasting you between them. “gonna’ get you all warmed up, honey.”

you moan helplessly, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes as you struggle to breathe around his considerable girth. just as spots start to dance in your vision, satoru stiffens and curses, hips jerking erratically as he spills into your mouth with a hoarse shout. “there you go baby, breathe for me — agh fuck yes. choke on daddy’s dick, thas’ good girl.” he then pulls out carefully, cradling your jaw as you cough and gasp, chest heaving.

suguru is still working into you from below, the drag of his cock against your fluttering walls almost unbearably good. you’re so fucking full of him, stretched around his thickness, but you still feel so empty, aching for more.

“please,” you rasp, looking up at satoru with wet, pleading eyes. “need your cock inside me too, need both of you fucking me, filling me, please.”

“such a needy little thing,” satoru marvels, eyes dark and hungry on your face. “gonna’ give it to you, baby, don’t worry. want me to stuff that pussy, hm? confuse you on whose is whose,” he laughs.

he slides down your body, shifting to kneel behind suguru between your lewdly spread legs. slicking up his fingers with more lube, he circles your stretched rim where suguru is steadily pumping into you, dipping just the tip of one finger in alongside his thrusting cock.

you keen high in your throat at the added stretch, the slight burn as he works you open further. suguru groans at the increased tightness, at the filthy drag of satoru’s fingers around his pistoning cock as he meticulously stretches you out. “god, look at you,” suguru pants, sounding absolutely wrecked as he stares down at where you're taking them both, hole straining wide and shiny-slick with lube and your own arousal. “pretty, little cunt all desperate for it, practically begging to be stuffed full. you want that, baby? want both of us crammed up in that pussy, wanna’ be our fuckin’ cocksleeve?”

“yes,” you sob, past the point of shame or restraint. “please, fuck, want it, want you both so deep in me, wan’ it to almost hurt . .”

“holy shit,” satoru swears feelingly, pulling his fingers free and lining his cock up alongside suguru’s. the blunt pressure against your already stuffed hole has you nearly hyperventilating, squirming down onto them eagerly. “okay, baby, deep breaths. gonna’ put both of us in, yeah?” you nod, and he pushes in hard, forcing his cockhead in alongside suguru’s with a devastating stretch. you wail brokenly, back bowing as you’re split open on their straining cocks, the burn of it so intense it borders on both pleasure and pain. but then suguru is rolling his hips and satoru is grinding into you and oh, oh it’s fucking perfect, the drag of them against your walls, the way they throb and pulse in tandem inside you.

“fuck,” suguru wheezes, sweat rolling down his temples. “o-oh fuck, fuck, fuck!.”

“m’ not gonna last,” satoru warns, voice absolutely shattered as he starts to move, drawing out only to slam back in, forcibly creating space for himself in your overstuffed channel. “yn, o-ooh, pussy’s stranglin’ me, baby — m’gonna cum.”

“do it,” you demand breathlessly, rolling your hips up to meet their thrusts, taking them impossibly deeper. “cum in me . . claim m-me.” with twin shouts they comply, snapping their hips forward one, two, three more times before they’re cumming hard, cocks pulsing in tandem as they empty themselves into you. you moan brokenly at the feel of it, of their release flooding your cunt, marking you up from the inside out.

they collapse against you as they come down, chests heaving and skin slick with sweat. you whimper as their softening cocks slip free of your abused hole, a river of come slipping out after them to soak the sheets.

“holy f-fuck,” satoru rasps after a long moment, pressing a reverent kiss to your shoulder. “that was fucking crazy . .”

“and incredible,” suguru adds, sounding just as dazed. “yn, baby, fuck. we wrecked you, jesus.”

“mmm, you did,” you agree, feeling utterly boneless and fucked-out in the best way. “absolutely ruined me for anyone else, jus’ like you promised.”

“good,” satoru growls, something fiercely possessive in his gaze as it rakes over your limp, satisfied form. “because this pussy? this filthy, perfect pussy? it belongs to us now. you belong to us now . . .”

you glance briefly at the tv, dick drunk and pleasure high. part of you thinks you should probably pay your respects to the anime that facilitated this unexpected but very welcome turn of events, but the rest of you is preoccupied with trying not to black out as satoru and suguru keep their attention on you.

megan-sama, you think muzzily, just before suguru starts to nip at your shoulder again, bless your ratchet heart. you the real mvp.

and then coherency flees completely as your boys descend on you once more, cutting off anything resembling higher thought.

the last fleeting thing you remember is a deep, unshakable gratitude for your beautifully crafted body and the incredible dudes about to spend the foreseeable future worshipping it.

thick thighs save lives, indeed.

there’s only one you.

we love you meg.

[sceletaflores]

where there’s sparks, there’s fire!

pairing: patrick zweig x fem!reader

summary: you can’t tell if patrick hates you as much as you hate him. every time you see him he’s constantly talking to you, touching you, trailing behind you. but he’s only doing all that to piss you off. you think back to tashi telling you it’s obvious that he wants to fuck you. you don’t see it. patrick wants to fuck everyone, you’re not special.

—or: patrick zweig is a slut. you can't stand him.

word count: 4.6k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, p in v, rough sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it y’all!), public sex (doing it in a coat closet lmao), more hate sex, swearing, fighting as foreplay, light choking, light hair pulling, degradation, even more hints of mean!reader cause i really do live for that shit, tashi and reader are cute besties always, porn with a little plot, no use of y/n.

author’s note: i originally wanted to post a tashi fic next but i realized i don't have any like actual full on plot filled patrick works lmao i felt bad neglecting him and my patrick girlies so yeah. once again had literally so much fun writing this, like i hardcore love this niche!!! i ride so hard for it!!! the tashi fic i'm working on also falls into this category lols and yes this is fourth of july themed and it's late shut up i cannot write fast for the life of me...anyway! to the anons who requested something like this, hope you love it! okay bye mwah xoxo.

Patrick Zweig is a huge slut.

Everyone knows that. He doesn't even go to Stanford but he's still somehow managed to sleep with a third of the girls on campus, maybe even more than a few guys too if the rumors going around are true.

You hate him. Hate isn't even a strong enough word. You loathe him. You despise him. You detest him. Pick any other fancy synonym, the point still stands. You just really fucking hate him.

It blows your mind that someone as sweet and angelic as Art would be best friends with someone like him. Someone who's so obnoxious, so arrogant, so crass. Art’s the guy that goes out of his way to protect you from the gross frat bros at parties, only to bring his very own as a plus one.

Sigma Nu throws a rager every year on the fourth, extending invites to those who are still in Stanford for the summer. The women’s tennis team is always invited, and Tashi always ends up convincing you to go. Well, she’s less convincing than she is more forcing you, but it’s basically the same thing to her anyway. She did your makeup and wrestled you into a Hollister dress, vowing to get you laid as she straightened your hair.

Tashi’s almost more invested in your sex life than you are, constantly hand-picking guys on campus for your consideration. She actually offered up Patrick once when you told her you wouldn’t fuck any of the guys on campus at all. The two of you were practicing, she suggested it as casual as ever while returning your serve. You were so shocked you stopped in your tracks, letting the ball fly right past you. She assured you she wouldn’t mind if you did, that what the two of them had was quote “Nothing serious, he’s just a really good fuck.” and that you should “Totally do it. He definitely wants to fuck you, I can tell.” 

You just brushed her off, ignored the way she smirked knowingly at you over the net. Your cheeks burned as you served again, you wrote it off as annoyance. As if you would ever let Patrick Zweig fuck you.

You lost Tashi when she took off to the bathroom, texting you that she’d be a while thanks to a long line outside the door. You were leaning against a wall nursing a half-empty cup of jungle juice when he came up to you. You can’t remember his name, you think it starts with a B. Something like Brandon? Or maybe Brian? One or the other.

He’s Sigma Nu’s secretary, you sit three seats down from him in your economics lecture. Tashi says he has a crush on you, and he’s nice for a frat guy but he’s definitely not your type. He’s been droning on about his upcoming trip to his family's summer house in Cabo for almost ten minutes. You try your best to seem interested, humming and nodding every couple seconds. You’re in the middle of tuning him out when a loud, familiar voice calls out your name. 

“There you are!” Patrick Zweig shouts from a few feet away, ugly American flag patterned flip flops smacking against the ground as he makes his way over to you. He’s wearing a bright red button down and white cargo shorts you scrunch your nose up at. He’s tanner than the last time you saw him, legs long and even more toned. “I’ve been looking everywhere for that pretty face.” He coos sweetly, his hand that isn't holding a bottle of Bud Light comes up to pinch your cheek.

You scoff, smacking his hand off your face. “You found me, so you can go bother someone else now,” you say, rubbing your cheek lightly. “Bye.” You press, waving your hand dismissively when he makes no move to walk away.

Patrick grins, unfazed by your reaction, he steps in even closer. “Yeah, I missed you too,” he says breezily, his breath smells like cheap beer and camel blues. He’s just as tall as you remember. He has tacky blue shutter shades resting on the top of his head. His eyes rake over your body shamelessly, lingering on the low dip of your neckline. “Cute dress.” 

You ignore him, rolling your eyes before turning your attention back towards Brandon/Brian. He’s silent now, eyes flicking between you and Patrick skeptically. “Are you like, together, or something?” 

You laugh loudly, quickly shaking your head ‘No’. Patrick beats you to speaking though, “God no, man.” he says through a laugh, dark curls bouncing as he shakes his head. “I came over here to warn you.” He continues, voice and expression going overly serious like he’s not talking out of his ass.

Brandon/Brian’s brows furrow, clearly confused. “Warn me?” he asks, head tilting to the left slightly. His puka shell necklace makes a small clicking sound as he moves. 

Patrick nods his head gravely, clapping his free hand down on Brandon/Brian's shoulder a little too roughly to be considered friendly, shaking him back and forth like a rag doll. “Yeah, best of luck trying to get inside that snatch, man.” he says earnestly, jerking his head in your direction. “Cause’ she’s really fucking picky–”

You whip your head in his direction to cut him off, grimacing in disgust. “You would say snatch, you sick fuck.” you snap, red solo cup crunching quietly in your hand. Patrick just laughs, dropping his hand from Brandon/Brian’s shoulder. Anger stews inside you the longer he looks at you with that stupid shit-eating smirk on his face. 

You can’t tell if Patrick hates you as much as you hate him. Every time you see him he’s constantly talking to you, touching you, trailing behind you. But he’s only doing all that to piss you off. You think back to Tashi telling you it’s obvious that he wants to fuck you. You don’t see it.

Patrick wants to fuck everyone, you’re not special. Sure, he may feel the constant need to be a horn-dog when he’s around you. That doesn’t mean anything. Patrick’s just gross, constantly making crude comments or lame innuendos. What Tashi fails to see is him making sex jokes around you is just another way he can piss you off. It’s not an open invitation into those god-awful shorts. 

Patrick takes a small step back, big hands raising in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Put the claws away,” You try to ignore the way him saying your name in that goddamn infuriating condescending tone makes your cheeks start heating up. Patrick leans his shoulder on the wall next to you, looking down at you with a small grin on his face. “I actually wanted to congratulate you on cracking the top twenty.” He takes a long sip of his beer, head lolling to the side lazily as he swallows. “Lucky number 14.”

You’re not too proud to admit that Patrick is kind of hot, especially in this lighting. He’s objectively a hot guy, and he knows it. All tall and firm looking even in his horrendous outfit. But he’s kind of cute too, in an ass-holey way. His hair's a mess of soft-looking black curls and his ears stick out from his head sort of endearingly. He’s close enough that you can see he’s got a little brown in his eyes, and long lashes. There’s a handful of freckles sprinkled over the bridge of his nose. 

His big, strong nose that looks like it could work wonders between your legs. Or at least that’s what you’ve heard from Jen in your chem lab. Maybe this jungle juice is stronger than you thought.

Patrick's smirk widens, wolfish and dirty like he can see what you’re thinking. “That’s pretty impressive.” he continues, his tone a mix of genuine admiration and teasing. "Especially for someone who's always so...busy." He lets the last word hang in the air, a clear innuendo that makes your blood boil all over again.

"Busy training," you snap back, not willing to let him get under your skin any more than he already has. "Some of us have actual work ethic, Patrick. We put in the hours on the court instead of fucking anything that breathes, you know? So we don’t look like idiots that get their ass handed to them on tour by nobody scrubs."

You can feel the heat start to simmer in your stomach, anger and frustration bubbling beneath the surface as Patrick's presence continues to grate on your nerves. The tension between you is thick, amplified by the chaotic energy of the party swirling around you. You see Brandon/Brian take a long, awkward sip of his beer as he steps away, turning on his heel to quickly disappear into the sea of bodies crowding the living room. You roll your eyes internally, pussy.

Patrick grins, not deterred in the slightest. “You’ve been keeping up with my matches?” His voice is low and pleased sounding, shiny green eyes slowly getting swallowed by the black of his pupils. 

You pause, owlishly blinking up at him in silence. You’ve been caught. Shit.

You can feel the immediate warmth of embarrassment burning hot on your cheeks as you cast your gaze to the floor. “Only when I need to cheer myself up, a losing streak that high is actually laughable.” You mutter to the floor, lightly swirling your drink in your cup. 

Patrick laughs loudly, throwing his head back in amusement. “Still thinking about me though.” he says matter-of-factly, a lazy grin taking over his face.

His audacity sends another wave of anger and embarrassment through you, your grip tightens around your cup. "Only because you make such a spectacle of yourself," you retort sharply. "It's hard not to notice when you're crashing and burning so publicly."

Patrick's grin doesn't falter. If anything, it widens. "I'll take what I can get from you," he says, his tone a blend of amusement and something else that you can't place. "But seriously, congratulations. You deserve it."

His unexpected sincerity throws you off, and for a moment, you don’t know how to respond. It's rare to see Patrick in a light that isn’t coated in sarcasm or sleaze. You catch a glimpse of something genuine in his expression, something that almost resembles respect, and it confuses you.

It confuses you, and it makes something warm start to burn in your stomach. You can’t afford to feel any warm, fuzzy feelings around a guy like Patrick, not if you don’t want to get majorly fucked over the second he gets bored of you. 

You don’t know how to react so you do what makes sense, you lash out.

“God, will you just fuck off and leave me alone Patrick,” you say, tone over-dramatic and long-suffering as you tip your head up to the ceiling in annoyance. “I’m trying to have fun.” A lie. The party kind of sucked compared to last years. You were planning on talking Tashi into leaving when she came back, but he didn’t need to know that.

Patrick’s cool exterior finally cracks, letting out a quiet huff of disbelief as a frown starts tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Jesus Christ, what the hell is your fucking problem? I’m being sincere.” The playful light in his eyes is gone, replaced by something darker.

You let out a loud laugh, shaking your head in amusement. “Maybe I’d believe that if you weren’t such an ass. I know you too well, Patrick.” You say, tone mean and condescending. You know he’s right, on some level, but that doesn’t stop you. 

Patrick is silent for a beat, eyes boring into yours with an intensity that makes you want to start squirming. He lets out a quiet, bitter laugh, bringing his beer up to his lips to take a long sip. You watch the way his throat moves as he swallows, the way his lips look wrapped around the neck of the bottle. You feel a familiar heat start to pool between your legs, thighs clenching involuntarily as your mind envisions something else his slick, pink lips would look good wrapped around. 

He drops the bottle to his side, finally breaking the silence. “You know, now I do believe you.” he says casually, swiping his tongue over his lips lazily. “You must really not be getting any dick acting like this much of an uptight bitch.”

You reel back in shock, his words hitting you like a punch in the gut. The wave of fury that sweeps through you is almost tangible, your vision narrowing to a tunnel that begins and ends with Patrick’s infuriatingly smug face. “What did you just say?” you ask completely taken aback, voice low and rough. Your hand twitches at your side with the need to throw your drink in his face, anger and embarrassment lapping white hot flames in your stomach. 

Patrick just scoffs, heated gaze not breaking from your own. “You heard me.” He says, jaw set stubbornly. “You need like, emergency dick, or something to chill the fuck out for once.” 

You feel your heart rate spike, your free hand clenching into a tight wrist by your side. “You’re a fucking pig.” your voice shakes with anger, you feel sweaty and hot all over. The heat swirling between your legs is persistent.

Patrick laughs, a loud and infuriating sound. “Come on, we both know you’re fucking begging for someone to give you what you need.” He says like it’s obvious, you clench your fist a little tighter. He takes a step closer, voice dropping down to a whisper meant just for you. “I can help you with that. I can fuck all that bratty shit right out of yo–”

You’re reacting before you can stop yourself, hand flying up to slap him hard across the face. The loud crack pierces through the room, loud enough that a few eyes turn in your direction. Patrick's head snaps to the side, the shades resting on the top of his head fly off. 

Your heart stops, hands shaking with the realization of what you just did. You expect Patrick to flip out, start shouting and threatening to sue you or whatever else it is that rich people do. Time seems to slow down as he turns his head, and when he looks back at you, there's no trace of anger in his eyes. Instead, they're dark with something else entirely— something that makes your stomach flip.

He licks his lips, a slow, deliberate motion, and then he laughs, a low, throaty sound that sends shivers down your spine. A clear hand print grows steadily, red and angry on his cheek. "Fuck." he breathes, his hazy eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your breath catch in your throat. 

You’re stuck staring at each other for what feels like hours, the music and chatter from the party reduced down to a low hum as you’re caught under Patrick’s heavy gaze.

He drops his beer bottle on the floor carelessly, hand shooting out to grab your wrist tightly and drag you away from the living room. Your cup falls from your grip, splashing down onto the hardwood in a red sticky mess. You fall into step behind him, letting him guide you into the hallway outside the living room before he lurches to a stop in front of a closed door, ripping it open and shoving you inside. Patrick follows quickly, closing the door behind him and bathing the coat closet in darkness. 

It’s a tiny closet, you’re pressed up against too many coats fighting for space on the tiny rack, kicking loose shoes around as you try to find your footing. “Patrick, I–” You start, but you're cut off by a strong hand gripping your forearm and whipping you around. Your back hits the door with a dull thud, you don’t have any time to react before his lips are on yours.

The kiss is the opposite of gentle, Patrick’s lips are almost violent as they move with yours. Your hands tangle in his soft hair, kissing back just as roughly. He hisses into your mouth as you twist the strands in your grip meanly, pressing you into the door harder. His tongue forces its way past your parted lips, claiming your mouth fiercely. He tastes like beer, his fingertips are rough and calloused on your skin, pulling you closer as if he wants to meld into you.

“If you don’t want this, say the word and I’ll stop right now.” He says against your lips, breathless and rumbly. His hands squeeze your hips reassuringly, his own version of sincerity softening the moment.

Yeah fucking right.

“Zweig,” you say slowly, yanking his hair roughly. “If you don’t shut up and fuck me in the next ten seconds, I’ll kill you.”

Patrick grins wildly, surging forward to connect your lips again. Your hands find the buttons of his shirt as the two of you kiss, working them open one by one until you get too frustrated and rip the two half-open sides apart. Buttons clatter onto the floor of the closet, Patrick groans into your mouth, breaking the kiss with a huff. “I liked that shirt, dick. You owe me twenty bucks.”

You’re not listening, eyes trained on the bare skin of his chest as everything seems to slow down for a second. Of course, you’ve seen Patrick shirtless before, when he’s on the court and it’s above ninety or when he’s taking up space in Art’s dorm. This feels different, a completely new situation where it’s actually okay for you to stare at the expanse of his torso. 

You can’t help reaching out to touch him again— running your greedy hands down his chest, his abs, the sharp ‘v’ cut of his hips that makes its way into the waistband of his shorts. Your manicured nails scratch through the dark hair of his happy trail, you can see the muscles in his stomach jump.

“Fuck,” you whisper breathlessly and immediately regret it. He was already insufferable— all you fucking needed was for him to know how you felt right now. How the sight of his barely undressed body is making your pussy soak through your panties.

Patrick doesn’t even gloat, just uses his tight grip on your hips to flip you so you’re pressing onto the door harshly. He impatiently yanks the skirt of your dress up, wasting no time in hooking a finger on the lace of your panties and moving the fabric to the side for easier access.

You hear him pop the button of his shorts open, his zipper following close behind. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this.” He says, sliding the thick tip of his cock through your slick lips, brushing himself against your entrance teasingly. “I’m gonna make you think twice about bitching me out ever again.” He seals his promise by grabbing your hair and yanking, causing a surprised whine to fall from your lips. His voice is so patronizing, but you aren’t getting mad like you should be. You’re just getting wetter, getting desperate with the need for him to get inside you right fucking now.

You grit your teeth in frustration, exhaling sharply through your nose. “I hate you.” You hiss, grinding back against his hard cock. You gasp raggedly as he starts to sink himself inside you, not stopping until his hips are flush against your ass. “Shit!” Your hands grip the door so hard you’re scared one of your nails will break. The stretch of him burns in the best way possible. You’d never say it out loud, not wanting to inflate his ego anymore than you probably already have, but he’s definitely the biggest cock you’ve taken. Almost porn-star big.

“I know.” He replies easily, hiking your thigh up with his hand as his hips start to pound mercilessly into the meat of your ass, not even giving you time to get used to the thick stretch of him. The loud smack of skin on skin fills the tiny closet easily, you hope to God the amount of clothes shoved in here somehow muffles the sound. The rough denim of his shorts scratches against your raw skin, adding to the sting of his hips.

Patrick was pounding into you in a way that makes you feel every inch of him. His cock felt impossibly big, filling you up like he was carving a place for himself inside of you. The sting in your pussy at the stretch of him is mind-numbing, you think you’d collapse from how hard your thighs were shaking if he wasn’t practically holding you up.

His big hand grips the sensitive skin of your inner thigh hard enough that it’ll probably be bruised by tomorrow. You distantly hope he’s high up enough that your tennis skirt will cover it, because if not it’ll be a hard thing to talk your way out of.

You throw your head back, a strained moan erupting from your lips. Your nails scratch at the paint on the door's edges, raking small lines down the wall. The loud squelch of your pussy’s overflowing wetness every time he sinks back inside you would be embarrassing if you had the mental capacity to care.

“Fuck yeah, keep making those slutty sounds, baby. Want the whole fucking party to hear how good I’m making you feel on this cock,” he mutters, hiking your leg up higher so he can pound into you deeper.

He drops your thigh, sliding his hand up your body and around your throat. You whine loudly, pushing back into his thrusts harder. Guys have tried the choking thing in the past, but Patrick’s hand is the only one that’s felt right. His long fingers curling around your throat like they belong there.

“Shit, fuck- don’t stop.” you mewl, lips parted in ecstasy. His hand squeezes a little tighter, not enough to cut off your breathing, just enough to get your eyes rolling back into your head as your pussy weeps around the thick length of his cock.

“That’s it, taking my fucking cock like you were made for it,” Patrick grates through a groan, gripping your hips and pulling out from your tight hole to spit on where his cock bumps up against your entrance before plunging back in.  You jolt at the extra wetness, whining at how dirty it is. “So fucking tight— does it hurt, baby?” he asks in a barely breathless voice, laughter edging his tone. “Is my fat cock hurting your tight little pussy?”

“God– shit, yes!” you sob loudly, cheek rubbing against the wood of the door as you nod your head frantically. “Hurts so fucking good.” You stop caring about inflating his ego, letting moans fall freely from your lips as you get closer to the edge.

“Fuck yeah, I’m gonna come,” he grunts, his rhythm growing sloppy and erratic as his muscles tense. He wraps your hair in his other hand, pulling hard enough to make your neck crane back awkwardly. He leans forward, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “I can feel you, fucking clenching up on me so tight,” he whispers, still pounding into you roughly. “I know you’re close. Do it. Come all over my cock like a slut.”

Patrick's hand tightens around your throat as he talks, cutting off your air for just a second. “Patrick!” Your voice sounds weak and strained, your hand coming up to wrap around his wrist desperately.

He pulls out abruptly, dropping your hair from his fist to frantically jerk his cock, burying his face in your neck. You can hear the lewd shlick shlick shlick of your wetness help his hand glide over the skin of his cock quickly. Patrick lets out a loud growl before you feel the sharp bite of his teeth sinking in where your shoulder meets your neck, muffling a loud groan of your name as he sprays hot come over the skin of your lower back and the swell of your ass. 

The feeling of Patrick’s hand wrapped around your throat as his come paints your skin has you catapulting over the edge. Eyes rolling back in your head as your convulsing pussy gushes wet over his spent cock. 

You drag in greedy lungfuls of air, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. “You came first.” You say breathlessly, voice scratchy and hushed. Patrick chuckles against your skin, swatting the tender flesh of your ass lightly. 

“Shut the fuck up.” He mutters half-heartedly, nuzzling his nose in your neck in a way that seems far too intimate for what the two of you just did. You don’t say anything.

Patrick eventually peels himself off your back, but the warmth of his body stays wrapped around you as he starts to gently wipe your skin clean. You’re ready to scold him for using some poor guy's coat as a come-rag, but when you turn your head to glare at him he’s using the inside of his own shirt. You wrinkle your nose, but a tiny smile fights its way onto your lips. So gross, you think with a sort of reluctant fondness.

He leans over to fix your panties back over your puffy, abused pussy. Your thighs continue to shake weakly as you try to stand on your own, still unsteady without Patrick holding you up. He gives you a sweet kiss on the back of your shoulder, smacking his lips loudly. You huff out a tiny laugh, pushing away from the door to face him.

You watch him as he languidly gets re-dressed. He looks well-fucked, his hair and clothes are mess, his face is flushed and sweaty. Your eyes trail down to where he’s buttoning up his atrocious shorts. 

The fabric around the crotch is darkened with your release, wetness soaking the denim around the zipper and front pockets. You gawk at it, a mix of terror and excitement swirling through your stomach. “You can’t go back out like that.” you say to his shorts, shame burning your cheeks. 

Patrick follows your gaze down to his crotch. A pleased smirk plays on his lips when he looks back at you. “I’ll text you later.” Is all he says, zipping his fly and turning towards the door. 

“You don’t have my number.” You say, tugging the skirt of your dress down over your hips. You can slowly feel the horny fog leave your brain, leaving you clear-minded and a little panicked.

He cracks the door open, but before walking out of the closet he looks back at you over his shoulder. “Art’ll give me your number. “ He says casually with a small shrug of his shoulder. You suddenly feel sick, wondering how many other people have heard that line before getting completely ghosted. 

Patrick must see the negative thoughts running through your mind play out on your face. He gives you an actual smile, one that has his eyes crinkling up the tiniest bit at the corners. “Promise.” He says with a reassuring nod, it’s the most sincere you’ve ever seen him. You bite your lip to stop from smiling at the hope blooming in your stomach, nodding back at him slowly. He throws you one last toothy grin before he’s walking out and closing the door behind him.

You sigh contently, staring at the closed door for a few beats before your phone buzzes to life from where it's laying on the floor. You bend over to search for it, blindly rooting around until you see the tiny display light. The ringing stops before you can answer, when you flip the screen up to check your inbox you have seven missed texts and two missed calls.

Four texts and two calls from Art, and just three texts from Tashi.

arty where are you? i’ve been looking for you are you okay? hello???

tash you know you're not invisible right? everyone saw your little show have fun <3

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

mini a/n: yes i did change the title leave me lmao love you!

[sems-diarie]

Ok but Aizawa is absolutely obsessed with chubby/fat women bc they’re soft and they smell nice and he will use you in place of his sleeping bag all the time. He will come home from a shift or his hell class, see you on the couch and bully you into a position where he can sleep comfortably on you.

If you pout n whine at him just right he’ll let out this huge sigh like you’re stressing him out and then wiggle down between your legs to eat you out until you’re crying, wailing that you can’t take anymore and then he’ll just smack your thigh or ass, enthralled at the way the flesh jiggles before diving right back in.

You wanted his attention right? So be a good girl and take what he’s giving you, and thank him for it.

anon u r brilliant i’ve been thinking ab this for days

you’re not thinking much of him when aizawa comes to sit by you. no, not even when he slots his huge, dense body over your back.

you gave him an initial side eye, but he just grinned real lazy. said he likes being close—don’t you, pretty lady?

you don’t think much of shouta, or his schemes, until he raises his head from motorboating the back of your thighs to slapping a hand into the meat of said luscious thigh. he’s sick, you decide, when he presses his nose against the sweat-slicked skin there.

you squeal and tense at the sudden pain that blossoms where he hit you. you don’t have long to relish in it when his fingers sink into you. he holds you still where you lay on the couch, and shouta groans deep as he molds your flesh with hands.

“it hurt?” shouta asks, sounding like it hurts him to breathe anything but the bewitching aroma of the cute, twitching pussy beneath his nearly drooling mouth. “sorry.”

“i need—,” you whine, rocking back to meet his mouth despite knowing you shouldn’t. “y’can’t, ‘cause i’m gross.”

your shouta doesn’t even bat an eye. the minute the words leave his mouth, he’s gone back to harassing your pussy-soft pillow thighs with his scratchy beard. “i don’t care for the shaved shit.”

“i need t’shower,” you hiss. “you’re tactless.”

you’ve been home all day. well, you showered last night for your early-morning errand run. and then you went and did some roller skating. then, you came back and watched a movie. and now, your husband is home and hungry—

and you’re trying to tell him dinner isn’t ready?

you don’t even bother after that. shouta’s strong hands take to your legs, spreading them a bit. just enough to get space for his shoulders to take up between your hips. for a while, aizawa just looks. and talks shit. fake worry drips from your husband’s tone when you, to his pleasant surprise, fight back against him.

“i just want to lick you a little,” aizawa says. he kisses you now, soft half-bites to soft, delectable parts of your legs. “woke up thinkin’ ‘bout it, came home thinkin’ ‘bout it…”

“you want my pussy in your mouth all the time,” it’s more of a hiss than you mean for it to be. and you nearly cry out as part of him brushes your clit. one of his hands supports your weight on his face; the other slides up your body to pinch your nipple.

“fuck yes. are you offering?” shouta loves how your hips grind back to him, taking the pleasure he’s giving you with a clenching, sloppy pussy. “wish you’d cut it with the panties, too.”

“think i give a fuck about a shower?” aizawa is not shy about it at all as he continues. he bites into the silence your swirling brain so dumbly encourages you to leave. and your brickhouse of a man fills it with the filthy, nasty ways he plans on making those pretty eyes cry as you grind cum all over his mouth.

he growls, “make me fuckin’ messy, baby.”

you whine.

“whining about later—you don’t think this spoiled pussy needs me now?”

shouta revels in the gooey squishes your pussy makes when his thick fingers come to pry your ass cheeks apart. you don’t even get a chance to answer before he spreads you again, and this time his tongue claims the insides of your cunt instead.

[slaytheusurper]

⭑ Mine all mine ⭑

Masterlist

Pairing: (TGC) Gaius Julius Caesar x fem!reader

A/N: as requested by multiple people ;)

Warnings: +18 mdni, mutual pining, cheating reader, murdered/poisoned husband, affair, making out, grinding/humping, oraljob (both f and m receiving), handjob (both f and m receiving), vaginal sex and creampie.

Summary: You hated your husband and want to be rid of him, luckily you meet a certain man who will change your life.

Word count: 3.6k

Another boring fucking supper party hosted by your boring fucking husband. You were only married to him for about two months but you never wanted him. All you got married for was the money and power your husband could provide. You came from a great ancient family in Rome.

So does he, your husband was a well known and feared senator. Quite an important man, but also old. And not to mention gross and too horny. It was well known you were beautiful and from when you were young you had many suitors lined up, begging for your fathers approval, but your husband was the richest, so he won.

You rolled your eyes as he looked way too proud to have you at his side. You greeted your his guests and your husband got many envious stares from his male guests. You never needed to persuade him much, many men fell to their knees at the sight of you. And you knew that even though you were a ‘helpless’ woman, you at least had that power.

Many old, ugly and plain people passed you, while the women all gave you glares. You never understood why they had to be so envious while you were all in it together. Most women were actually girls, some even as young as 14 to 15. You were more lucky though, you were married the day you turned 18. Some consider that too late but those were your fathers terms. 

You were very grateful for him and you knew that he would have your back. You started to get more and more bored when the amount of people didn’t seem to end, luckily you had one of the biggest houses in Rome and it could fit thousands of people if it had to. But the guest list for tonight was only about two hundred. Two hundred of the most important people in Rome. 

But then it seemed time slowed when a certain brown haired man stopped to greet your ugly husband. The man then introduced himself to you. “Gaius Julius Caesar, thank you for having me, it’s a beautiful home. Almost as beautiful as you, it is true what they say... You are very lucky.” He said that last part while turning to your husband before joining the larger party in the main hall. Your husband thinned his lips and looked at you angrily.

You shrugged your shoulders and placed a hand on his, faking your empathy for the idiot. He of course fell for it, as always, and went back to greeting the last guests strolling in. Only a couple more stiff smiles before finally the whole party was here, and your husband went to check on some of his men. You strided towards some women you knew growing up and started a conversation with them. 

They provided you with some gossip and soon you were talking about the husbands all of you wanted instead of the ones you got. So you told them about Gaius and of course they knew who you were talking about. “Of course you want the most devious one of them, and I bet you could get him too, I saw how he looked at you, only moments ago.” One of them told you. And sure enough, when you looked over one of the women’s shoulders, his brown eyes were looking at you.

You smiled at him, the way you did when you ‘persuaded’ your husband, he grinned back. One of his men looked at him questioningly. “Too bad she’s already married.” Agrippa whispered to Gaius, which earned him an annoyed look. “So? Divorce exists.” He fired back. “You really think that that old man is going to let a woman like her go? And what if she’s pregnant? She’ll have to give up that child.” Agrippa argued. 

“Don’t think she is, a girl like her wouldn’t let an old fuck like him touch her.” He smiled, Agrippa rolled his eyes. “She doesn’t have a choice obviously, that’s why she very well could be.” Gaius got annoyed by his friend and needed a break from his constant nagging. He always got what he wanted and he would have you too.

He strolled over to Cicero’s wife, not nearly as pretty as you but he was hard from your smiles at him and he needed relief. He wasn’t too sure about getting away with fucking you at your own husband’s party. So the desperate one would do, he knew she would do anything he asked, he was one of the most young, handsome and richest ones here. 

So he whispered something in her ear, that of course didn’t go unnoticed by you and jealousy filled your chest. Your face fell, and he glanced at you while he discreetly followed the other woman up the stairs. You decided to ignore it and went back to talking with your ‘friends’ instead. You did learn that he wasn’t married and you envied him. He could do whatever he wanted but you couldn’t.

You tried to focus on anything else but the thought of him fucking that other woman right now but you couldn’t and before you knew it you had excused yourself and rapidly ascended the stairs. Glancing behind, you saw your husband and his guests busy talking and drinking. He didn’t have a fucking clue.

You searched around the quiet upper floor for a while, until you heard soft groans and moans. The sounds lead you closer and closer to your own bedchamber. When you pulled the soft fabric aside and your eyes met his, he was laid on your bed with the woman between his legs, sucking him off. He started to pant and moan faster at the sight of you.

The sounds and the sight of such an arousing scene made heat puddle in your own belly. And soon you were panting along with him, your eyes never left each other and the look on your face quickly made him cum in the woman’s mouth, waking you up and moving yourself behind the fabric again, being careful the woman didn’t see you when she left. 

Then he appeared from behind the curtain, giving you a wink as he walked off. “That’s Cicero’s wife.” Your words made him turn around as he walked back over to you. “Yes.” He replied curtly. “I thought he was your friend.” He stepped closer to you. “He is. He married her because her family’s rich. That’s why everyone gets married, money, power, family. They’re the only things that matter.”

You looked up at him and he glanced at your lips, licking his own. “To the son of a money lender I’m sure that’s true.” He smiled and inhaled. “Grandson.” He mumbled, before crashing his lips on yours. You whimpered at the sudden feeling and he only deepened the kiss, gripping your hips tightly. Your hand travelled up his leg and he leaned into your touch. Then you squeezed his bulge, he let go of your lips and groaned in response. 

“That’s my bed.” You said, he looked at you with heavy eyes. Then you let go of him, leaving him there with another erection. You went back to the party and your husband, much to your approval, was already drunk, good, no sex tonight. He had only fucked you once on your wedding night, but his seed didn’t take root so you were still free from the burden of a child, but you knew that one day he would succeed, so you had to take action.

The party was soon over and the guests started to leave, you were once again at your husband's side but now bidding them goodnight. And soon enough Gaius walked past, only giving you a grin. Your husband looked at you questioningly but you again pretended not to know Gaius’ intentions. Since he was still drunk he quickly forgot and the last of the guests had left for the night.

That night you were thankfully in your own bed, your husband passed out in his own and your hand slid down your stomach between your thighs, pleasuring yourself to the thought of him. And that night after you had one of the best orgasms of your life, you dreamt of him. Gaius Julius Caesar, showing up on a huge white stallion with a hundred knights, slaying your husband and claiming you as his. 

A few months went by and everytime you still managed to avoid being with child. Much to your husband’s dismay, who grew more impatient and annoyed. But you promised him that soon you would bear a son. This was not true, when he did have sex with you, you had your servant bring you water, and you washed his spend out of you. So far it worked, as you showed no signs. 

You were only a few moments back home from the market with some other wives when your husband barged in. Snapping you out of your thoughts as you admired some of your new jewellery. “I have good news!” He laughed. It made your stomach curl. “Gaius Julius Caesar himself has invited us to a supper party at his house. Some three hundred are invited and we are one of them!” Now that made your smile return. 

So only a few nights later you arrived at Gaius’ house, it was even bigger than yours and he greeted you with a big smile. Your idiot of a husband didn’t even notice, taking in the house. Soon you were joining the larger party and your husband was quickly lost in the crowd. Good. You didn’t need that fool tonight. No, your plans were different from his. Tonight you would get yourself a new husband. 

It didn’t take long for him to find you, you purposely had left to ‘catch some air’ and had walked to the balcony outside. He walked up behind you and joined your side. “You enjoying the party?” He asked. “Not really.” You responded, looking at him with heavy eyes. His tongue pressed the inside of his cheek. “Me neither. Follow me up soon, third door to the left.” With that he made his way back inside.

Moments later when you knew for sure he was in his room already, your feet guided you inside, and you as discreetly as possible made your way upstairs. You passed the doors, one, two, three. You knocked on the door and it opened fast, a hand pulling you inside. “No one followed you?” You shook your head. His lips then pressed against yours and he pulled you against him tightly. He broke the kiss for only a moment.

“I will make you mine.” He groaned against your lips. You smiled and his tongue soon invaded your mouth. You moaned at the feeling, heat cursed through you and you knew you had made the right decision. He moved both of your bodies towards the bed, climbing on top of you. Then he started to nip and suck at your neck, your moans echoing through his room. Never had you felt such pleasure from so little.

“Gonna show you how a husband is supposed to fuck his wife.” He growled against your skin. You gasped at his words and he harshly ripped off your robes, sucking and licking at your exposed skin. Your body responded beautifully to his touch and he had never been this hard in his life. Your own body was aching as well, begging him for relief.

He kissed down your bare body and didn’t neglect your breasts, he flicked his tongue over your nipples and you shivered at the sensation. Is this what sex is supposed to be? When he was pleased with your now sensitive nipples he kissed down until he reached your glistening folds. He licked his lips before dipping his head down, licking at your clit. Your back arched and a loud cry left your lips.

“Feels good doesn’t it? My little slut, you’re all mine now.” He groaned swiftly going back in. He moaned against your cunt when he grinded his hard cock against the bed. Only adding to your own pleasure. Your hand moved to his head, grabbing his brown locks for support. He saw this as a sign to move his tongue faster and so he rapidly flicked his tongue over your clit. 

You could barely breathe, the pleasure was suffocating you and you could only whimper at the warm tongue between your legs. He noticed your peak was near and moved his hand to enter a finger inside you, sliding it further in until he reached that sensitive spot inside you. He knew he found it when you jerked at his touch. He never slowed down his tongue as he now fingered you as well, bringing you to edge of release.

With only two more licks and a press against your sensitive spot inside, you contracted when your climax rushed through you, coming with a loud cry of his name. You didn’t give a single fuck about if anyone had heard you, since he made you cum so hard you saw spots. When the overwhelming feeling had calmed, you looked down at him, he was still between your legs, resting his face on your left thigh. Your juices over his face and his pupils blown wide.

He only allowed you a moment before he came back up, licking your lips and into your mouth when you opened it on instinct. He let go off you for a moment to take off his own robes, revealing abs and a dark happy trail leading to his thick hard cock. It had veins and a red leaking tip. You couldn’t wait to put it in your mouth, nevertheless inside you.

You sat up and moved on your knees, Gaius positioned himself on the bed, him now in your previous place against the pillows. You moved between his legs now and realised you had never sucked a cock before. Your husband always just immediately penetrated you and that was the end of it. “Do you ever do this for your husband?” He asked, his voice raspy as his eyes were glued to your tits. You shook your head. “Good.” 

He motioned you to come closer and he wrapped your hand around his cock, helping you pump it up and down. “Now just kiss it, and then wrap your lips and suck on it.” You did as told, you knew you’d do anything to him. You carefully kissed his tip, right at the slit where pre cum was dribbling out and he hissed at the feeling. Then you wrapped your lips around his uncut cock, he helped you pull the skin down a bit so his whole tip was exposed. You instinctively let your tongue swirl around his angry head, and he let out a cry of pleasure. 

You stopped for a moment, “Am I better than that whore from my husband’s party?” A grin played on his lips, “She doesn’t even slightly compare to you.” You smiled at his words and went back to swirling your tongue over his tip. “Fuck- go deeper- take it deeper- ah!” You took him deeper in your throat as he commanded and he grabbed your head. His other hand furiously holding on to the sheets.

He wasn’t too long but he was very thick and his was so much prettier and bigger than your husbands, it made you drool all over his cock. You wondered what his response would be to fondling his sack so you moved your free hand up his leg. He looked down at you with an open mouth, completely frozen when you started to massage his balls. He could only let out hitched breaths and grunts.

“K-keep going- almost there- please!” He moaned when you licked his slit, your other hand still giving his balls attention too. And soon his abdomen tensed, his breath stuck in his throat as his cock twitched in your mouth, then his seed spurted down your throat, a guttural moan leaving his. “Fuckkkk!” He came so much it dripped out of your mouth, on your chin as well as his shaft and balls. He gasped and moaned at the sight.

You let go of his cock and swallowed the salty liquid, he sat up and swiped his thumb over your chin, gathering the remainder of his seed and putting it in your mouth. You made sure to suck his thumb all clean before he pulled it out, chuckling at how dirty he had already made you. Gaius then pulled you towards him by your waist so you laid upon his chest. “I will have one of my men discreetly kill your idiot husband, so you might be mine.” You looked at him with uncertainty. “What?” He asked. 

“How though? My husband is a powerful man, we have a lot of guards.” He smiled sweetly at you before kissing your head. “Don’t worry about that, Agrippa and I will make a plan. Then we shall have the most beautiful wedding Rome has ever seen.” And so you got dressed after a while and looked for your husband. Gaius gave you a smile before blending in with the crowd. 

You were awoken by screams of members of the household, it had been a week since the party of Gaius and you anxiously awaited for your husband's death. You and Gaius knew he would never divorce you and so he had to die, in order for you to marry him. You threw the sheets off you and ran to where the screams were coming from. Your husband's room, finally. You were stopped by one of the servants who begged you to stay back but you pushed past him.

There he laid, in his bed, In a puddle of blood. Blood stain trails out of his nostrils, tear ducts and mouth, even out of his ears. What had Gaius done to him? Clearly some sort of poison. You pretended to be surprised and screamed, pretending to want to go to him and ‘struggling’ against the servant's grip holding you back, he then led you back to your room. Not long after the body was removed, the news was all over Rome. And a grim funeral followed. Gaius attended as well as his friend Agrippa and he ‘comforted’ you during the remembrance supper. 

Two days after the funeral, Gaius arrived at your house. You, by law, had inherited the estate and got approval to find a new husband, what the senate didn’t know, was that you had already picked one. And so the news of your wedding soon spread like wildfire across Rome, the women jealous and talking about how fast you had found a new husband. But you didn’t care.

The wedding itself was somehow better than your previous. A thousand had come, and you wore the finest jewellery and fabrics. Even Gaius had on a marvellous robe and his hair was for once neat. You couldn’t help but stare and smile at each other during the ceremony and it was soon officiated with a heated kiss. Gathering a loud applause from the guests. The rope that tied your gown was loosely fastened, ensuring Gaius would have easy access later that night.

You only had a quick supper party after the ceremony, wanting nothing more than to finally fuck your new husband. So you rushed up the stairs, not bothering to wait for the last guests to leave and immediately rushing to his bedchamber, slamming the door shut behind him he almost jumped you. Slamming his lips against yours in a frenzied kiss.

“Finally I have you.” He said between kisses, once again moving you to his bed. But this time it was you who climbed on top of him, grounding your hips against his, he easily pulled the rope out of its knot. Your gown almost fell off you with the rope discarded but Gaius helped pull it off anyway.

You could already feel how soaked you were. Your heated kiss resumed and Gaius’ hips bucked up into yours eagerly. “How about I just fuck you right now hm?” He groaned. He didn’t even pull off his own robe, rather he helped you lift up the skirts, revealing his aching cock. You held yourself steady with both hands on his chest, he lined his length up at your entrance and you carefully sank down on him.

Both of your moans filled the room, the sensation of his cock filling you up so well becoming overwhelming. “So fucking tight-” He gritted out, hips snapping up into you as his patience had run out. He had to have you, fill you with his child. The thought of you waddling around with a swollen belly made him dizzy. 

You rode him with urgence wanting nothing more than for him to fill you with his cum, the thought drove you crazy. His cock hit that sensitive spot inside you with every thrust and it made you a blabbering moaning mess, clenching down on his cock as you came with a cry. His grip on your hips tightened and he fucked into you mercilessly, soon his hips started to falter and cuss after cuss left his lips. With a couple more harsh pounds into you he filled you with his seed.

And just like last time, he came so much, it dripped out of you. He quickly turned you around and pulled out in the process. With two fingers he pushed his cum back inside ensuring a child would be on the way soon. And it worked, in no time you were walking around with a swollen belly, a proud look on Gaius’ face. But of course he still fucked you every night.

[blushweddinggowns]

“And that’s why I don’t mess with girls who still live with their parents,” Jeff said, finishing his story off with a flourish, “Never again. I was almost shot.”

“Oh don’t say that!” Freak laughed, “We all got a secret weakness. What was yours again? Girls with Daddy issues?”

“Hey, that was Eddie!” Gareth jumped, not seeing the way Eddie immediately tensed up, “Jeff was into the lingerie thing. You don’t remember the catalogs under his bed?”

“Oh my god the catalogs!” Freak cackled, “So many catalogs.”

“Hey, don’t laugh at me, Mr. Foot Fetish,” Jeff pointed out, giggling himself at his friend’s scandalized gasp, “Oh yeah, I remember! We all do!”

“Well I stand it’s better than girl’s with Daddy issues-”

“Daddy kink,” Eddie emphasized, using everything in his power not to look at Steve. This kind of thing was normal for them to talk about, sure, but he had never gone there with Steve.

“Oh potato, potatoe,” Garthe joked as he poked at him, “Same shit.”

“I think there’s a little bit of a difference,” Steve piped up next to them, casual enough for Eddie to chance a look at him. He looked normal, sipping at his beer with a small smile as everyone drunkenly snickered.

“Oh, you do huh?” Gareth challenged, “Do you got the same predilection?”

“Not exactly,” Steve said, “I’m more vanilla than anything else.”

Eddie highly fucking doubted that not with the way he’s heard Steve beg. There was nothing fucking vanilla about the sounds that boy could make. Nothing at all. But he kept that thought to himself.

“King Steve really never got freaky?” Jeff asked, a brow raised, “Come on now, we’re all guys here.”

“We can’t all have libraries of women’s underwear dude,” Steve said instead of answering. He was met with a round of laughs. Enough for no one to even notice when he stood to leave the room, all of them too busy back to poking fun at each other. Everyone but Eddie.

Eddie, who got right up and followed him into the kitchen.

“Sorry about them,” Eddie said the second he was out of earshot, watching Steve with eagle eyes as he grabbed another beer. He leaned up on the counter across from him, apologetic, “They’re a lot. We’re a lot.”

Steve shrugged with a light laugh, turning to face him, “It’s fine. They’re fine. I just didn’t know what to say.”

“You don’t gotta say anything. We’re a little too comfortable with each other,” Eddie said with a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck.

“That’s what friends are for,” Steve said with a small smile. Bordering on sad, “If anything I’m a little jealous.”

Eddie blinked at him, “Jealous?”

“A little,” Steve said, not meeting Eddie’s eyes, “We never talk about stuff like that.”

“I kind of thought I was sparing you from my gross shit,” Eddie said quickly, “I just- I didn’t think you wanted to know-”

“It's not gross,” Steve interrupted, with a furrowed brow, “When did I say it was gross?”

“You sure about that?” Eddie asked, raising his brow, “The Daddy thing kind of had you running.”

“I wasn’t running!” Steve said, giving Eddie a slightly tipsy pout, “I was… embarrassed. That’s all.”

“That you aren’t into it?” Eddie asked, confused, “It’s definitely not everyone’s thing, Stevie. Don’t worry about it.”

“Well…” Steve said, his voice going quiet the longer he talked. His cheeks getting redder, “I never said I wasn’t into it.”

From the newest chapter of this fic

[machveil]

alright I know we’ve all talked about how johnny is a bush guy and honestly. bars. but it got me thinking about the why (the smell, obvi) and the how and the nitty gritty details.

start off with the facts: he didn’t ALWAYS know he was a bush guy. I love my beautiful pathetic man but I also strongly believe that part of his gym behaviors and simp tendencies stem from being a Loser in his youth. man was terminally bitchless. and that means, of course, that he watched truly SO much porn. and thanks to that influence, he spent much of his early adulthood thinking body hair on a woman or man was gross.

his path to enlightenment began in his first threesome. he proudly brags about the time he banged two chicks at once to his army buddies— and he did! but the reality might do less for those guys than it did (and still does) for johnny. some femme top and her pet butch took him home for the night, a little three person party to satisfy the craving for some strange. he’d planned for SOMEONE to spend the night face down ass up, just didn’t think it’d be himself. ariana and len had taught him the joys of pegging, body hair, and pad thai that night. he still sends them christmas cards.

from that day on it was him and his love of pubic hair against the world. fascinatingly, he isn’t as committed to other forms of body hair— whatever state of shaved or not his partners come to him is fine, so long oral involves him diving face first into bliss. he likes chest hair on a man, but he won’t weep the way he does when he sees a naked twig and berries. women with armpit hair? cute, but shave it if you want. just don’t leave his poor kitty out in the cold 🥺

and when he finally settles down with his girl (gonna go cis afab on this one bc it’s wish fulfillment for yours truly), best BELIEVE he is involved in that grooming routine. not in a controlling way (or not without prior consent, anyway). but as soon as he had the green light , hes buying the mildest hair oils, cotton underwear, the most unscented soap he can find! he wants his best friend to be comfortable and cared for!!!!! also you ig, whatever. he’ll even help with trimming every few months if it’s ABSOLUTELY necessary. just be prepared for him to pout the whole time. gently massaging his “favourite forest” (that one got him a kick to the head) is his most beloved pastime. he views cotton as the cleanest canvas for an artists masterpiece, folds his darlings panties with the care and admiration of a craftsman with the tools of his trade. there’s a special sort of hum in his chest as he tucks them into their shared intimates drawer, knowing he’ll see them on the other side when they smell musky and used and perfect.

AUGH i just live for Johnny being an absolute dog when it comes to being a munch+!!!!! (the plus is the hair). him coming home from a stressful day and peeling his sweet thing out of her knickers just so he can’t put his face down and kiss and smell and nuzzle. and half the time it’s not even sexual, he just feels so CLOSE to his partner at this, the most essential part of them. short of cracking open their ribcage and climbing in, it’s the best he can get to satisfy the part of him that craves the safety and closeness and comfort of them being one. FUCK he’s such a freak I wanna match it!!!!!!!!!

anon, I’m kissing your cheek, my Johnny thoughts have been loud lately and this scratched my brain just right. I don’t even have any notes, it was just a stellar take. shoutout to Ariana and Len, iconic

[wolfythewitch]

Another hi, also could you tell me more about your love for Odysseus? I think this is super interesting. I always struggled to like him. I mean he lived through so many adventures but he also seems to forget his family and live his life happily with other women. I always pitied Penelope so much. So I always wanted to strangled him. I mean I love bad characters but how he he basically says "wife son kingdom I missed you so much. I never forget you." feels super wrong because at the same time he tasted so much half the women of the Greek islands. :/ So idk I simply want to know why you feel in love with him? That would be super interesting for me. But you don't need to answer this if you don't want to. I understand if you don't want or don't have time.

I'm not going to lie I kept trying to answer this and then getting mad lmao

Anyways. "Tasted half the women of the Greek islands" is a gross way to say he slept with two goddesses, one of which he did under hermes' reccomendation

and the other blatantly against his will. The latter of which, by the way, kept him trapped on an island for 7 years, in which every day he would go to the shore and cry for home.

Technically in some version he was also given hecuba after the war? Though she isn't present in the Odyssey so I'm not really counting that

Insert this fun little passage

What a fun passage.

Here's another one where he stayed up for 9 days straight to make sure he got home

You know how he lived many adventures? It's because he kept trying to go home. He did not live his life happily with other women. He stayed one year on Circe's island and that's maybe the closest you can attribute to that, but he had also just lost 11 of his 12 ships and men so I'm inclined to give him a break. 7 years were spent trapped on Ogygia. The other 2 years were spent sailing around trying to get home

He also constantly talks about his son in the iliad, as well as Penelope. Not as much in the Odyssey because you don't talk about your son and wife to strangers

Here are some more fun passages for fun

Very fun.

I'm not really sure why I keep getting asks like this considering I Am a blog primarily that posts about Odysseus, or why so many people think he was prancing around Greece fucking women left and right but okay

[frankendykez]

what annoys me about posts on the novel frankenstein in this site (besides the blatant ableism towards victor frankenstein from people who swear they "care" about disabled people) is the amount of readers that forget that the bride, had victor truly put her to life, would in fact have the same amount of autonomy & free will as the Creature does.

i talked about this in some reblog before but really it is incredibly annoying, seeing people who claim to be feminists and advocating for the rights of women saying that oh! victor should've just not given her ovaries/not given the Creature a cock and so that would fix everything! so they shan't be able to reproduce an dmake evil moster children! just in response to this one thing in that chapter:

"one of the first results of those sympathies for which the dæmon thirsted would be children, and a race of devils would be propagated upon the earth, who might make the very existence of the species of man a condition precarious and full of terror."

it is true that victor worries about them reproducing, but how did they miss these lines from the first paragraph of the chapter?:

 "He had sworn to quit the neighbourhood of man, and hide himself in deserts; but she had not; and she, who in all probability was to become a thinking and reasoning animal, might refuse to comply with a compact made before her creation. They might even hate each other; the creature who already lived loathed his own deformity, and might he not conceive a greater abhorrence for it when it came before his eyes in the female form? She also might turn with disgust from him to the superior beauty of man; she might quit him, and he be again alone, exasperated by the fresh provocation of being deserted by one of his own species."

it's literally longer, reader can't have somehow accidently missed it? frankenstein thinks of her free will, that is so much more important. he worries of her consent in the matter. it is in my belief by ignoring this you are ignoring the voice of mary shelly, daughter of a world known feminist, who is against arranged maariages of which this situation very closely resembles.

even if we ignore the fact that people somehow managed to not read a significant amount of the text, why do people belive the victor owes the creature a wife? do you think men are owed wives? that women, without a say in what they want to do, must become a wife to some random man just because he wants her to?

people here woobify the creature so much that they literally act extremely ableist and anti-feminist on accident. i am not saying the creatture is pure evil and victor is pure good, i am very against black and white readings, but is this not common sense? and honestly, the way the creature speaks about the bride is gross anyways. here are two examples:

"one as deformed and horrible as myself [would not deny herself to me]" & "(…) of the same species and have the same /defects/".

is that not odd? how the creature Wants her to be miserable and ugly so she has no other choice but to be with him?

not to mention how the bride parallels elizabeth and the relationship between her and the creature would've probably parallels the relationship of alphonse and caroline frankenstein, how the creature would've (accidentally?) groomed her. but that's a whole different can of worms

i know you guys love adam and hes interesting but jesus fucking christ

[sleepingcrtter]

Jimmy (Mouthwashing) NSFW Alphabet

୨୧

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

He usually doesn’t think twice about aftercare. He’ll either fall asleep or leave you alone.

The most “aftercare” you would get out of him is him holding you while he falls asleep.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He’s a tits guy 100%. He likes curvy waists, too.

If he had to choose a body part he wasn’t constantly sexualizing, it would probably be your eyes.

He doesn’t put much thought into his own body, like at all.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum)

He always cums first. He doesn’t care if you came yet, he just wants to get off. He isn’t gonna ask for permission to come inside, he’ll just beg for forgiveness later.

D = Dirty secret (Pretty self explanatory)

Seeing women in pain turns him on a little too much. Asking him to stop or telling him it hurts would be sort of pointless, it would just turn him on more.

If he really cares about you, he’ll respect your limits. To a fault.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s a man whore. Most of his sexual experiences are one night stands or meaningless hookups. He definitely knows what he’s doing, but he rarely goes out of his way to please anyone but himself. If he’s in the right mood, (which is rare) he’ll focus his attention on getting you off completely.

F = Favorite position (This goes without saying)

Doggy. He can pull your hair, grab your waist, etc. Most importantly, he doesn’t have to listen to you talk if he’s going at it from behind.

Any other position is fine, as long as he’s in control.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? Etc.)

He isn’t dead serious, but he doesn’t have much of a humor when it comes to sex. He will crack a few jokes at your expense, though. If he knows you, he’s more inclined to make humorous comments to lighten the mood.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? Etc.)

Sorry, but there’s no way he’s keeping himself “well groomed”. He honestly doesn’t give a shit. He’s the sort of guy to put no effort into shaving and then call a woman with hair gross.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect)

He isn’t intimate at all… if anything. The most romantic thing you’ll get out of him is a few kisses and some comments about how good you make him feel.

J = Jack off (Masturbation headcanon)

He’s doing it a few times a week, minimum. If he’s feeling especially stressed, it’s probably more.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

He’s rough. He doesn’t care for slow or intimate sex, it annoys him if anything. He likes to slap, grab, bite, anything that will cause you physical pain. He enjoys the whole inflicting pain aspect and everything that comes with it.

He can be a huge tease, too. Make you think he’ll give you what you want, and then leave you unsatisfied until he cares enough to get you off.

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

He doesn’t give a shit. He’d fuck you anywhere. Your place, his place, a parking lot… literally anywhere.

If he had to choose, it would just be somewhere he isn’t getting interrupted.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

He likes a tease. If you don’t give him what he wants right away, it only gets him more worked up.

He’s also a huge sadist, that kind of speaks for itself.

N = No (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He doesn’t like not being in control. If you were to suggest him being submissive for a change, he would laugh and tell you to fuck off.

In reality, he would probably end up liking it. He’d never admit that though.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He’s almost always on the receiving end. He’s rough with it, too. You wont get a break until he’s finished or ready for something else.

As far as giving goes, he’s sloppy. He doesn’t care much about getting you off, but if you’re adamant about it, he’ll push you over the edge and then tease you about it afterwards.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? Etc.)

There’s no going slow with him. As soon as he gets his hands on you, or vise versa, he’s going all the way. He doesn’t care about what’s most comfortable for you, he knows what he likes and that’s what’s important.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He likes them, and that’s mostly what he’s going for. He could care less about taking the time as long as he gets off. If he’s really into you, though, he’ll want to make things last.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? Etc.)

If anything, taking risks turns him on more. He’d fuck you anywhere, no matter who’s around.

He isn’t super experimental, but if you asked him to try something new, there’s a high probability he’d do it just to prove he’s good at it.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

Generally, he can last quite a while (if he’s in the mood). He’ll go multiple rounds just to tire you out, and considering how rough he is, it doesn’t take much.

Most of the time, he’ll just finish and toss you to the side after one round.

T = Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He’s never experimented with anything like this, and the thought never really crosses his mind. If you were to ask, he’d probably be more insulted than open minded.

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)

He can be a huge tease, anything that can get you whining and begging for more. Usually he’ll take it a little too far, but in the end you’ll (probably) get what you want. It’s mostly about his ego.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He isn’t very vocal, but he’s not ashamed to make some noise. If he’s really into it, he’ll forget about trying to keep himself quiet and go all out, talking dirty and all.

W = Wild card (A random headcanon for the character)

He’s selfish. He doesn’t care if you’re having a good time, as long as he’s getting off. The only reason he’d actually try to satisfy you would be for his own ego’s sake.

X = X-ray (Let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He honestly doesn’t put a lot of effort into his appearance, but he is pretty physical, so he stays in fair shape.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

It’s embarrassingly high. He’s never gonna turn down an opportunity to have sex with you. Chances are, he would probably get on your nerves with how often he’d come around for a hookup or whatever else.

Z = Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Almost immediately after. He doesn’t care for talking afterwards, or any sort of aftercare. He’d just plop down beside you and fall asleep, regardless of how you’re feeling.