#dirty writing.

[eldritchan0maly]

Javier Esquella Sfw & Nsfw hcs

SFW

-This man is the sweetest romantic ever. Im talking about holding doors, helping you over puddles, helping you on and off your horse, getting you gifts for every occasion, etc.

-I think he can be a bit of a dork, but most of the time its only when he is comfortable.

-He will teach you Spanish if you don't know it, or if you do know it he will speak to you in Spanish. Most of the time it's always spilling tea.

-Javier can and will sing songs about you in Spanish. This dude is just down bad for you and his thoughts are consumed by you.

-Javier isn't fond of being cuddly with you in front of others, but once alone he is GLUED to you.

-Afraid to let you do jobs alone, but he knows that he can't go with you on all of them. So expect him to be practically showering you with kisses and hugs so tight it feels like he's trying to break your back.

NSFW

-Speaking of breaking your back, this man can and will fold you in positions you didn't think possible.

-Will whisper the filthiest things in your ear in Spanish.

-I see Javier being a dom-leaning switch. He will sub but he has to feel completely safe with you to do it.

-I also see him being bi or even pansexual. Like he doesn't give a fuck what genitalia you got. This mans can and will fuck your brains out.

-I see him being more partial to giving head than receiving. Don't get me wrong, he likes receiving but I just see him getting off more on your pleasure.

-He for sure has a knife kink, and maybe likes light bondage.

-Javier keeps himself trimmed downstairs but will not shave it all off. He did it once and hated how it felt.

-He has a pretty good-sized dick. I think he would have like 6-7 inch flaccid and like 7.5-8 hard. Has a slight upwards curve and a prominent vein that runs along the underside. But what he doesn't have in length he makes up for in girth.

-I think his favorite positions would be ones he could see your face. He adores the faces you make as he fucks you into the bed or whatever surface is available.

[seanconneraille]

may your glasses stay clean for an entire day. like to charge, reblog to cast.

[nanaslutt]

Geto would beg to put it in…

hahahhehehehoohooho yes he would

geto needs to zip tie his mouth shut because it’s so FILTHY

MDNI

He would rub the tip up and down your folds, smearing his cock all over your pussy lips, looking down at you with a weak smile.

"Please baby, wanna put it in now, please." He begged. Your hand was gripped firmly against his scalp, his soft hair between your fingers. "Mmm, but it feel so good when you rub your tip on my clit like that."

He repeated the action again, hoping him obeying you would let him get his cock inside you sooner. "They're kissing, how cute." you whined.

Geto looked down between the two of you and saw your little clit catch perfectly in the slit of his dick when he used it to rub circles against the nub. When he looked back up at your flushed face, pretty eyes staring up at him through your lashes, he had to try not to blow his load prematurely.

He gripped the base of his cock firmly, aiding him in staving off his orgasm. "Yeah yeah so cute,” he rushed, “Can I please put it in now? Gonna cum all over your clit if I dont stop rubbin it like this." need laced in his voice when he spoke.

He had started to slide his cock back down to your entrance, getting stopped in his ministrations when you yanked his head back, making him whine, "Fuck!" he groaned, tip leaking out more precum at the delicious pain on his scalp.

"Maybe I wont let you put it in at all, since youre being so impatient," you huffed breathily, trying to sound dominate but the need ultimately sneaking its way into your voice.

"Come onnnnn," Geto dragged out the syllables, "I know you need it too.." Leaning his big frame down over yours, pressing his mouth to your ear as his deep voice vibrated in your ears, "Please let me fuck you baby, need to cum so deep inside your little pussy, need it so bad." He teasingly groaned when your hold that was still on his head made itself known again, pulling the strands at his dirty words.

"You like that idea?" he kept pushing, knowing he was winning you over, "want me to stuff you full of my cum, huh?" he moaned into your ear, pressing the tip against the tight ring of your cunt before retracting the pressure, repeating that action a couple times, successfully making you needy for him.

"S-supposed to be you begging m-me, not the other way around suguru." you wined, feeling yourself lose the hold you had over him, geting lost in the pleasure and promise of what was to come.

"Your so right baby," he cooed, sucking your earlobe into his hot mouth and stimulating it with his tongue before he spoke again, "Please let me put it in, pretty please." He asked, concecending tilt in the undertones of his pleasding voice, “M about to cum jus’ thinking about it…”

"O-ok, you can put it i-" Sentence getting cut off with a moan when he thrusted the entire length of his cock inside you all at once.

Geto buried his face into the crook of your neck, gritting his teeth and clenching his jaw when he was fully inside, "F-fuckkk, haha," he groaned, balls already twitching, and stomach coiling with the need to cum. "So- fucking- tight-" He growled, fucking his words into you.

Lifting his head to get a better view of your face, he caressed the side of your teary cheek when he spoke, "Thank you for letting me fuck you baby, so fucking good to me." Groans and moans filled the air as he thoroughly fucked you into the mattress for the rest of the night in appreciation.

yeaahhhh, geto would def beg to put it in :p

[cozylittleartblog]

Columbo and the Knight (1984)

put me in the universe where Columbo ran through the 1980s and had a crossover episode with Knight Rider. I think they deserved it, and I am not just saying that because they're my two favorite Old Shows. @telebeast wrote a little fanfic blurb about it and I HAD to visualize it into a comic (which is also the longest comic I have finished thus far at five pages...), so writing credit goes to them.

Autism W!

[kurooh]

EMBARRASSING SEX MOMENTS. [BNHA]

☆ includes: aged up! midoriya izuku, bakugō katsuki, todoroki shōtō, kirishima eijirou, kaminari denki, takami keigo, amajiki tamaki.

☆ warnings: 18+ content, f! reader, crack & cringe.

— izuku is always curious to try new things, and that curiosity is how you ended up fingering his ass while he was on all fours. apparently he had read online that the doggystyle position would help you hit his g-spot. you had helped izuku prep his ass before all of this, and somehow 2 hours of prep wasn’t enough. he was moaning and enjoying it, but unbeknownst to you, he had to fart a little. he assumed it would be harmless, and small. so he trusted it, and ripped ass HARD. the sheer force pushed your fingers out, along with a stream of shit that shot onto your hands. he was so embarrassed :(

— katsuki is an aggressive ass slapper; you ask for some spanking and he makes sure your asscheeks burn by the end of it. sometimes he adds little tiny explosions, which feels good. you like it, especially when he smacks your ass while you ride him. one night, you were riding his cock hard, and he was loud and really into it. “slap my ass, katsu,” you moaned desperately, and he grunted out some sort of understanding. he was gearing up for a hard slap - he couldn’t help it, the feeling of you bouncing up and down on him was deserving of a good one. his palm sparked ever so slightly, and he swung his hand with a ton of force towards your ass but had miscalculated because your ass was moving up, not down. he smacked his balls full force, and made tiny explosions which only added to the pain. you’ve never heard that boy scream until that night. he actually got up and excused himself to grab some water and wiped some tears away. katsuki is very ashamed and gets pissy whenever you bring it up.

— shōtō loves it when you take control. like he always cums so fast when you ride him, and it’s definitely one of his most favorite positions. so, not long after you had both installed a new and beautiful wooden headboard and bed frame, you were on the bed riding him like seabiscuit. he started to grab at your ass, his back arching and his eyes tearing. “oh, i’m gonna cum, please come with me, love.” you nodded, body shaking, but you weren’t sure if you had enough energy left to cum with him since you were a bit tired. before you could register what was happening, he had grabbed onto your hips and started fucking up into you, hard. you gasped, inhaling and choking on your spit, and after one particularly rough thrust, your body jolted forwards and your head rammed into the new headboard.

— as eijirou fingered you and licked your clit, you took his cock deep into your throat, bouncing your ass onto his face for maximum pleasure. he used his free hand to push your head downwards into his crotch more, trying to signal that he was really enjoying the blowjob. he started sucking your clit, and you thought it would be a nice idea to play with his balls. you began to lick and kiss them, but his dick and balls are very sensitive; his legs started to twitch and his knees tried to close but he still didn’t stop sucking your clit. you took this as a positive reaction and started to suck on his balls, maybe a little bit too hard… eiji thrashed under you and bit down on your clit with a muffled shriek. you screamed into his balls and bit them hard. in the end, the both of you held ice packs to your crotches and hoped that the neighbors would not ask about the loud screaming at 2 am.

— denki was pounding you hard in a mating press, moaning loudly and getting really into it. after 3 minutes of fucking, he came inside you and FARTED loudly at the same time. he was extra noisy when he came so maybe the fart added to the pleasure?? but it stunk so bad that you started gagging and pushing away from him while he could barely move from how hard he’d cum. he might’ve shit the bed.

— you and keigo drunkenly stumbled back into your shared apartment after a night flight across the city. you were both incredibly horny, and immediately got on the bed together the second you got into the bedroom. you yanked off your own clothes and his shirt, pushed him down, and straddled his lap. you kissed him, gently biting at his lips and tongue, drawing loud moans from him. you kissed his jawline, his neck, occasionally sucking at the soft skin. “dove,” his voice shook, “i need you so bad.” “mhm,” you mumbled, your whole body close to overheating from the liquor and the heat of the situation. everything was perfect until you began kissing his chest. out of nowhere you were overwhelmed by the liquor, the vodka shots you took kicking the fuck in. you licked his nipples, whining as you moved to give attention to the rest of his pec muscles. you bit down into his skin, sucking hard, almost completely lost in your own world. then you heard shouts of pain and tasted iron. you let go of his skin, ready to apologize, but keigo was so worked up his wings had begun to buffet, and the feathers smacked you right in the face, hard enough to throw you off the bed. you started crying a little because you felt bad for biting as hard as you did, and because your head smacked into the wall during your journey to the floor. he started to cry too, from the pain and because he had thrown you off the bed accidentally. the both of you decided not to have sex that night, and showered together and then went to bed. he has a scar on his tit now.

— tamaki has had many embarrassing moments with you, with the worst occurring in the beginning of the relationship, and then later on. when you’d first had sex together, you weren’t on the pill so you seductively told him you would put the condom on his dick. you tore it open with your teeth to impress him (it worked), and then grabbed his base just right, and began rolling the condom down his cock. he came, and the condom wasn’t even all the way on. secondly, he was fucking you doggy style, and was really into it. moaning, groaning, all that. tamaki went to slap your ass, but some of the wires in his brain got crossed and he slapped his OWN ASS. he did it hard enough for the sound to stop both of you in your tracks.

[fos-tis-zois]

jjk smau: sending them a dirty text when you're at an event

♡ incl: gojo, geto, nanami, toji, ino, choso, shoko

♡ an: requests are open lovesss, suggestions very welcome because i wanna do this more but have very little ideas (ps. if you've sent me a req and i've not written yet its js bc i don't have good content for it yet im not ignoring it i promise)

[foldingfittedsheets]

I am a little creature largely made up of anxieties. There have been times in my life when it was worse. It’s currently significantly better. This story takes place at a time when it was pretty bad.

Food was a prison for me. I moved out early with very little idea of how to feed or care for myself. Every meal was a question mark. For three years I had Brendan doing most of the cooking but when things ended between us I moved in with some other friends. I suddenly had no way to feed myself again.

I was working at the sex shop and living with all my coworkers; a premise that would make sitcom writers weep. In that house, at the age of 24, I learned how to fry an egg. It was the only thing I knew how to do but by god, I mastered egg frying. I was so proud. I could now have one stress free meal a day of an egg on toast.

The problem was my roommates. Living with three other people is already tough but messes pile up alarmingly fast, especially in the kitchen. No one sees the whole mess as their responsibility but the one person who’s responsibility it absolutely wasn’t was mine, as I only ever cooked eggs. Glaciers moved quicker than the dishes got done, mountains of greasy unwashed dish ware were fixtures across the counters.

My friends occasionally cooked for me and each time I happily cleaned all the resulting dishes. This seemed fair.

But on my own I only used three implements for my egg. When I finished with my spatula, pan, and plate, I carefully washed them and set them to dry. Every time I came back to the kitchen there was nothing clean.

Crusted on ketchup, dried food, and unsavory residues plagued everything I needed to touch. So I ended up doing all the dishes twice, once to use my three implements and again once I was done.

I started to realize I’d come home, see the filthy pile of dishes, then go to bed without eating because I didn’t have the energy to wash it all. So I finally addressed my roommates about it. Please, I beseeched them, can these three things always be clean. I cannot function like this, and eating is already hard for me.

The answer returned: no. My request was deemed unreasonable and a counteroffer was made to turn off the small space heater I ran in my room in exchange for them magnanimously cleaning up after themselves. I declined, as my bones ached with cold everywhere except my room since no one else wanted the heat on. The impasse continued. I went to be hungry.

I noodled on it. I schemed. I plotted. And on my day off I went to a thrift shop and acquired a nice little pan and spatula. I squirreled them away into my closet. The plan was just to wash and dry it after meals and keep it in my room.

This is not how it went down. On day one of my pan coming home one of my roommates popped into my room to chat, glanced into my three quarters shut closet and immediately said, “What is that?”

I sighed and admitted my plan. All three roommates roundly condemned my plan as extremely passive aggressive. I tried once again to explain that I wasn’t eating, but my secret pan was now a source of contention, a precious resource held back from the collective.

Their discontent reached a fever pitch and I finally declared, “Fine! I will put my pan in the kitchen. On one condition. If I ever find this pan dirty, ever, I will scrape whatever is left on it into your bedding. I swear to god, if I ever come home to it being dirty there will be a reckoning.”

Terms were agreed.

The first month or two went okay. On the third month I awoke to eat breakfast and found my precious pan sullied. I grabbed it and marched upstairs. Betty was named as the culprit. I strode into Betty’s room and stood over her sleeping form like the vengeful ghost of dishes past.

“If you don’t get up and clean this right now I’m going to dump it on your bed.”

Betty groggily regarded me. “Seriously?”

“I have never been more serious.”

“It’s one time, can’t you just clean it yourself?”

“No. You promised.”

With much huffing and grousing Betty arose from bed and tromped downstairs, hastily cleaning my pan while I watched. “Happy?” She demanded.

I was. I made my egg, cheerfully cleaning the pan afterward, leaving it to dry.

[stervrucht]

How I remember it anyway ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[1800titz]

ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ — ᴘᴇᴛ ᴘʟᴀʏ (ꜱᴏꜰᴛ)

ROLL OVER | boyfriend!Harry (couples costumes gone wild)

The dalmatian/fire fighter duo runs a little deeper in the bedroom after the party.

★₁₈₊

ROLL OVER as the final installment to the KINKTOBER projects. Based on this ask.

If you enjoy this, consider checking out my patreon masterlist, constantly being updated, with loads of exclusive content. If you would like to see the other KINKTOBER projects, do so here.

CONTENT/WARNINGS: couple's costume gone wild. pet play (soft). soft dom. praise. leashing. collars. use of "puppy" as a pet name (pun unintended). oral (f to m). dumbification. dom/sub undertones.

WC: 1.7K

“Yeah,” Harry breathes and shifts his hips with a subtle flex that nudges a little more of him past your lips, cradling you close by the shape of your jaw and petting his palm across your heated cheek. 

You swallow, nostrils flaring, and you let the congealed dust— of this particular disposition— across your lashes lure you under a little harder. Let it crush you under the soporific wave of its gravity. 

But you don’t miss the way he swallows, tugs a little harder on the polypropylene end of the dog leash wrapped taut around the knobs of his naked knuckles, and purrs, “Such a good girl, puppy.”

You blink up at him. At the unstilted paradigm of your insatiable hunger (eating, eating, still so hungry for him); bare stomach flexing, shoulders swelling, jawbone tucked and face ducked to watch you swallow around him. Watch and feel you work your little tongue in crescent shapes against the underside of his cockhead. 

You’re drooling. Slobbering, like a needy, little puppy, and your spit dribbles across between the wedges of your knuckles, where you cup him around the base and squeeze every time he throbs. 

It’s good. It’s really, really good.

He sprawls back against the chair but keeps his chin tipped. Staring down at you— the way your lips suction around him and the way your eyes pool under your fluttery lashes with a dew. Inkpools unwavering. Unrelenting. 

His shirt is discarded, so all his ink is on show. The way it breathes alive under the tension of his musculature, his rippling abdomen when you dip the tip of your tongue into the slit on his head; moving, dancing over his skin. 

It feels dirty. Borderline gaudily pornographic; you, on your knees in that careful nook between his split thighs, with his suspenders dangling across his lap. The big, utility boots on his feet, either side of your haunches. The pried zipper on a set of work trousers, slouching low on his hips, multi-faceted into a costume. 

He’s heavy on your tongue. Takes up too much room in your mouth. Leaking and throbbing when you duck your head to take him just a little deeper, a little more.

“Christ,” Harry murmurs. It sounds a little dark. Hardly over a whisper— you make a wet, ugly sound around him and blink back up. 

From your angle, there’s this pastiche of sovereignty to him. Like blue-collar regalia; half-shed firefighter’s rig, shape of his face chiseled in self-possessed stolidity—

Save for his eyes, the little cinch in his jawbone. The glint in the charcoal vats, the sharp carve your lips make, the way it wobbles when his teeth grind together a little harder. Your tongue seeps out over your lower lip when you take a deep breath through your nose, open wide, and take him nearly to the root. 

The sound that crawls out of Harry is so battered that all you can do is claw into the fabric on the apex of his thighs and let your eyes screw. 

His cockhead bludgeons at the gummy lining on the back of your throat, and you’re sure the phlegm is collapsing in little broken pieces like a mirror shattering under the weight of a hammer. Spuming out over his face in creases and rapture. But you can’t look. 

All you can do is try to swallow around him when the hand that was on the side of your face glues to the back of your crown, his fingers tangling into your hair. His knuckles bleach a little whiter with the strain of the leash, the way he holds you in place. 

(When his palm moves, it smudges one of the little tar-black spots you painted on with a brush, across your temple.)

You can hear that he’s groaning, pressing himself into you and folding praise in with the shape of his fingers scratching at the back of your skull. Things like, “Yeah— fuck— just like that, sweet girl,” in rich husks that simmer across your porous bones and trickle when your shoulders shake. When your toes curl under you. But he holds the leash a little tighter for the angle, and the makeshift collar around your throat gets a little more taut—

Really, it’s all his fault. 

Taunting, Can’t be my proper puppy without— the lead he delicately clipped onto the cheap, old hot topic choker you dug out of the closet to use as a collar. The way that he kept his knuckles wrapped over the handle and his knuckles in his pocket at the party. Toting you around like a pet, keeping you rooted to his side when he settled. Tucked to the swell of his massive shoulder. 

The way he told you to stay like a dog when he went off to refill your drinks, the way he patted your head upon return to find your soles glued to the same spot. Scratching behind your ear derisively, fingertips riling a shudder across your shoulders. 

Such a good girl, you are, saturated in artificial, satirical delight. Corners of his mouth curling, the jeer dripping off the corners of his eyes. 

(Here’s your treat.)

It started as a joke. Mocking for the sake of watching the heat froth under your skin, across your cheekbones, the ruckled bridge of your nose. Faux praises and the condescending gravity of the lead across the base of your neck. The subtle tug into an isolated pigeonhole of a docility that soaked across the crown of your head. 

The mushroomed ridges of his tip bludgeon a splutter out from between your sopping lips, and more saliva oozes out and trickles across your tacky, wet fingers. 

You need to hear it again, need to hear him say it, that itch festering in the noxious tangle of your arousal when you rise on your haunches a touch to duck your chin and press your nose to the wiry smattering of hair bedding around the root of his cock—

“Fuck,” Harry drawls. Guttural, heated—

Varicolored phosphenes fleck behind your lids like constellations in the yawn of a mesmeric, caliginous sky. 

“You’re so good, sweetheart,” he grunts, hums, hips tensing and canting up into the wet heat of your mouth like it’s an undiluted reflex to an itch, feeding his cock deeper— “Gonna cum down this pretty, little throat f’you keep sucking my cock like that.”

You rest both palms on his thighs. Twist your fingers into the fabric until it’s soggy with spit. Gag around the swell of him until he wrenches you back with his fingers under the collar, at your nape, and leaves you sputtering for air with your neck craned. When you blink your lashes apart, your eyes are wet. Bleary. Burning like the back of your tongue, the soft lining at the back of your mouth, where the only place left to cram further is down into your esophagus. 

He looks like a hedonistic cover page for a pornographic issue. 

The coarse strip of dark hair from his navel pools in the bed of curls nesting the hilt of his cock, and his thighs are split in this kingly way that makes you dizzy. It’s vertiginous, staring up at him from your knees. Meaty shoulders, one burnt umber curl hanging to eclipse an eyebrow, and his cock is so spit-slick. Wet, and shimmery, and stupidly thick, sealed in his fist. Throbbing. Your spit puddles off onto his heavy sack, the sodden fabric wrenched apart by the zipper, and you watch a little, pearlescent bead drool off the tip when he squeezes and twists his palm up. 

“Want it in your mouth?” Harry muses. It’s a subconscious maneuver; canting forward on the hinges of your joints with your swollen lips parted as he drags the pad of his thumb across the blurting pre-cum and smears it over his frenulum. “Want it bad, don’t you?”

The way he pulls on the end of the lead isn’t sharp. It’s subtle, but it corners you into nestling your mouth against his cock. Against the swollen shaft, cockhead pulsing and leaking out over the sloping bridge of your nose. 

“Beg,” he tells you. It’s soft. The wisp of a breath; a sigh when you smush your cherry mouth to the little vein that rides up the underside and turns baby blue beneath the crown. 

But it’s chock-full of the command given to an animal— beg, and I’ll give you a treat. It makes you sizzle down to your marrow. His lips curl loosely into a lazy grin. So debauched, around the shape of his cock, coated in your own saliva, pressed to your face. 

“Go on,” he smiles, “Let me hear you whine for it. Show me what a needy, little puppy you are.”

The words sink into your underbelly and leave your hands cresting for surface-purchase under the spindrift. They slip to his knees, and tangle into the fabric there as your lashes flutter. 

“Please,” you breathe, mouthing the word along the shape of his cock. Your lashes are still fluttering. Batting. You scootch forward a little, scratching into the firm muscle under the nomex, and let him smear his shaft across the tip of your nose, tarnishing the borders of the snout you painted on.

He hums. His thumb catches on the corner of your mouth, just as you start to paste an open-mouthed, suckling kiss onto the underside of the root. Your tongue smudges out against his sack. 

He’s unconvinced— you watch it in the way his brows notch, hear it in the rumble that stems from his chest when he grips his cock by the hilt and taps it against you. “Come on, baby. I know you can do a little better than that. Really work for it, hm?”

“Please,” you say, rocking your hips. “Want it bad. Wanna keep sucking you. Please, please.”

A hand tucks into your hair. The fingertips there scratch into the spot behind the shell of your ear softly, and the sensation draws a shudder over your shoulders. You feel on fire. Molten, under the weight of his gaze, the unresistant pressure on the lead, the patronization that trickles off his tone.

“Go on, then, puppy,” Harry murmurs, finally, and loosens the white-knuckled, taut grip on the leash enough for you to clamber back, “Take me back into your mouth.”

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TAGLIST: @aprlmuse @babegoals @cinnamonone @lolalovespeaches @flubblubbb

@ivegotthecinema @bxtchboy69 @iloveharrystyles04 @littlenatilda @witch-rry

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@madstyles3204 @fruity-harry

[velvrei]

i know you’re not taking requests for him… but rob rausch (from love island) smut would actually be amazing 🙏🙏

hehehehe yes this is one of the only exceptions i’ll take for non-requested people bc rob is HOT

you and rob have been coupled up sense the beginning. you chose him and he chose you. rob, being himself, did have moments where he was skeptical, however he was always completely transparent with you and would tell you how he felt.

there were many girls that liked him, including liv, who stole him, and he eventually came back to you. you and rob had won today’s challenge, and been voted america’s favorite couple, so you gained your night in the hideaway.

and that’s how you ended up on top of him, his hands tied behind his back, mask on your face as you rode him, hips moving against his.

“god, that feels amazing,” he whispered under his breath, his head falling back, tugging at the rope that held his hands together.

“yeah?” you spoke, various cuss words slipping from your mouth as he fucked up into you, “feels good when i’m on top, doesn’t it?”

the whole villa knew you were probably the horniest couple on the island, so they knew after your night in the hideaway there would be many stories to tell.

after 2 rounds of you on top of him, he took the mask off your face, throwing it across the room, turning your bodies over.

“missed that pretty face of yours..” he says, tucking some hair behind your ear, before turning your body around, shoving your face into the pillows, knowing you liked it rough.

“that feel good, baby?” he said, pushing into you again and gaining speed. he smiled as your back arched, holding your hip with one hand and your head with the other.

“yes, feels so good!” you shout out, clenching around him as he pounds in and out of you.

“good girl,” he says, sending shivers down your body, “you know i like it when you respond to me,” he said, watching as you scream into the pillows.

“yeah, come on, scream my name, baby,” his words cause your body to tremble and scream his name into the pillows, feeling him twitch inside of you, he enjoyed seeing how much pleasure he gave you.

“good fucking girl, i’m so close baby, you feel so good, fuck,” rob moaned, starting to bottom out as he starts to reach the edge, his hips stuttering as he shoots his cum into you.

once he comes down from his high he doesn’t stop, continuing his thrusts, “come on, love, cum for me,” he moves faster, moaning as he sees his load spilling out of you.

“cum for me, god, you look so pretty with my cum spilling out of you,” his words brought you over to the edge, his hand reaching over and rubbing circles along your clit, watching intently as your body trembled as you came.

“good girl, it’s okay, i’m here,” his words slowly slowed your breathing from quick pants to regular breaths.

rob turns you around after a minute and kisses your forehead. “you okay?” you nod your head, eyes tired and drowsy as you smile up at him.

“i’m okay, robby,” you say, your voice obviously tired, he giggles at the nickname you call him, which you really only use when you’re tired and drowsy or feeling playful.

“good, had to make sure. let’s go to bed baby. 3 rounds is more than enough for us.”

you giggle at his words, “is it?” you say, raising an eyebrow. he laughs at your words.

“for now it is. who knows, maybe we’ll be up again at 2am. tonight’s the night to do whatever we want,” rob says, wiggling his eyebrows as you gently tap his face.

“you’re so stupid,” you say, and you both laugh and you cuddle against his chest, you both finally falling asleep.

[awearywritersworld]

mdni

thinking about gojo satoru, who loves seeing you in his boxer briefs, especially when you pull them from the dirty laundry because you need something to slip on real quick.

he loves the way they cling to your thighs.

he loves the way the band accentuates your pretty waist.

he loves the way they ride up and expose the crease of your ass to his hungry eyes.

it's really quite the predicament for him— does he want you to keep them on? or does he want to peel them off and reveal what's underneath?

[visionsofcarnality]

Dirty Old Man ! Joel Headcanons NSFW!!

Part two!

Dirty Old Man Joel who’s never tried digital p0rn, only his old magazines that are yellow with age.

Dirty Old Man Joel who’s never googled p0rn before until he’s typing you features after the word and burying himself in the results.

Dirty Old Man Joel who offers to do your laundry when you’re busy so he can sneak a peek at what undies you wear.

Dirty Old Man Joel who tells you that, no, he didn’t see your favorite black silky pair in the wash… They must’ve gotten eaten by the dryer or something.

Dirty Old Man Joel who jerks off into those same panties that night. The first time he’s been able to cum twice in the same night since his divorce.

Dirty Old Man Joel who hears your vibrator through the thin apartment walls of your shared building and fists his cock to your barely audible moans.

Dirty Old Man Joel who, when you come home from a filling, fakes shock that you had a cavity. “I hear your toothbrush every night. You go to town with that thing.” And enjoys watching you blush and splutter in embarrassment.

Dirty Old Man Joel who smirks to himself when his one night stand makes a comment about his “grouchy neighbor giving me a dirty look”

Dirty Old Man Joel who opens the door dripping wet from his shower because he heard you pounding on his door.

Dirty Old Man Joel who thanks you for picking his wallet up off the hallway floor and returning it to him.

Dirty Old Man Joel who dropped it on purpose so he could answer the door fresh from the shower.

Dirty Old Man Joel who clutches his towel tighter around his waist to hide his hard-on when he watches you blatantly check him out.

Dirty Old Man Joel who knows through the wall when you’re faking an orgasm for the sake of your shitty boyfriend and dreams about making you cum for real.

Dirty Old Man Joel who bakes you cookies after you tell him in passing that your boyfriend was cheating on you.

Dirty Old Man Joel who hugs you while you cry and totally doesn’t offer his apartment if you get lonely and want to watch a movie.

Dirty Old Man Joel who fucks you on the sofa when you inevitably come over, having to push your face into one of his old throw pillows to muffle your sounds.

Dirty Old Man Joel who makes you cum twice on his face and once on his fingers before he gives you his cock because he just popped a viagra and it hasn’t kicked in yet.

Dirty Old Man Joel who then uses the power of Viagra to fuck you into oblivion for several hours until you’re certain you can’t speak.

Dirty Old Man Joel who cums inside you every time because he got a vasectomy after his divorce and you’re both clean.

Dirty Old Man Joel who laughs at you when your legs start shaking as he’s plowing into you and smacks your face “You alive in there, kiddo?” while he’s balls deep in your cunt.

Dirty Old Man Joel who knows just how to grind against you to have you screaming even after you’ve already just cum.

Dirty Old Man Joel who hasn’t used his phone to take a picture in months but now he’s putting on his glasses and figuring out the buttons because he wants to take a picture of his cum leaking out of your pussy.

Dirty Old Man Joel who, despite his perviness, comes to clean you up with a warm washcloth and cuddles you into his chest after you’re thoroughly fucked dumb on his cock and drooling in pleasure.

Dirty Old Man Joel who only lets you go back to your apartment when he’s sure you’re ready and drops off breakfast the next morning because “you must’ve worked up an appetite.”

Dirty Old Man Joel who tells you to come over any time you want.

You and Dirty Old Man Joel who set up ‘movie nights’ and even go through the trouble of making popcorn.

Before you ask, no, he doesn’t remember what movie you put on.

[taddymason]

Face to Face

[willowser]

"i ain't takin' a fuckin' bath."

katsuki's half-undressed, standing in the kitchen with the fridge doors wide open; shirtless, shoulders broad and muscles round and taut, cool air raising goosebumps across his exposed skin. his un-buttoned tac pants are dangerously low on his hips, so low that you wonder—while staring at the dimples of his back—if he's doing it on purpose.

the dewy sheen of sweat he'd come home with has gone matte, leaving him in a thin, sticky, grimy layer that is grimace-inducing to feel. like most nights, dirt and soot and even blood—grown dark and less worrisome with time—color him haphazardly, strewn across his body; a mosaic of dynamight, made by his own hands.

"but you stink," you fail to suppress a smile when he snaps his head around, to fix you with an ugly look that you return. he manages to hide his own amusement in the bulge of his bicep. "i'm serious! a bath will help you relax!"

turning back to the open fridge, he grumbles, "i am relaxed," in a tone that doesn't sound relaxed. at all.

"come on," you urge, shuffling up to him, wrapping your arms around his waist despite all his dried grease and muck. "you go first and i'll be there in a minute."

that catches his attention enough that he finally closes the doors, facing you as he runs a lazy hand over his stomach. to his credit, he does look a bit more relaxed than he had when he'd come through the door—but the set of his jaw is still too stern, brow only ever furrowed, a little more argumentative than usual, even if it's harmless.

katsuki seems to consider your unspoken proposition, before finally surrendering with a roll of his eyes. "fine, but i'm takin' a shower like a grown ass man."

"no!" you groan, latching onto his arm when he moves to step around you. you try to dig your heels into the ground, but you're in the kitchen in socks, and katsuki only yanks you after him with a wicked grin. "bath! a bath will help you relax, i mean it! i've got lavender oils!"

"i ain't using' your frilly shit!"

he finally slips from you when you sputter out a laugh, tugging free from your grip before throwing you a look that is hot in more ways than one. innocent as you aimed to be, something tightens in your stomach; awakened at the sight of him.

you warn, "i'm only coming if you're in the bath!" and his loud, exaggerated groan echoes nearly throughout your entire house, swallowing up your chirpy laugh.

—but, much to your surprise, he listens.

you let him soak for a good five minutes before following after, and when you find him, he's got his head leaned back over the edge, elbows resting on either side of the tub, legs bent and knees sticking up out of the water. handsome as ever, you think, a little dreamy, before the marble of him shifts at your arrival.

he only opens one eye, and you can see already the tension has drained from his face; half-asleep, a little bloodshot and breathing too even to convince you otherwise.

"well, well, well," you murmur, lowering to the floor on your knees after his eye slips shut again. "look at you, princess."

katsuki makes a haughty noise of irritation, but doesn't bite back: a dead giveaway of his exhaustion. instead his hand finds the material of your shirt, tugging on it lightly before he slurs out, "get y'r ass in the tub."

you'd bite his fingers if they weren't still disgusting, but you place a teeny kiss on the cleanest spot you can see on his wrist. "i don't need a bath, but thanks."

"hah?" he grunts, eye shooting open again as he frowns at you. when you only smile coyly at him, he raises his head and glares at you properly. "y'dirty liar, you said—"

"i said i'd be right behind you," you grin. "not that i'd be getting in."

the water sloshes up against the sides as he straightens his posture, baring his teeth at you as he prepares, you think, to lunge out and haul you in with him despite a screaming protest—but you reach forward just before he can, dipping a hand down into the warmth right between his thighs.

katsuki jumps, seriously, leg kicking out so hard that his heel slams into the edge of the tub, when you gently hold him where he's soft. "jesus!" he all but yelps, eyes going a little wide as he realizes what you've done. what you've made of him.

he's still—marble-still—air sucking in sharply between his parted, frozen lips as you touch him, and heat pools so obviously, so suddenly, in his cheeks, sweet enough that you want to bite into the apples of them. in your hand he swells thick, quickly, a little slippery from the soap he's already added to the water.

all his tension returns, as a different strain; katsuki swallows, hard, as his eyes dart back and forth between your own and where your hand disappears into the water; when you gently rub your thumb back and forth across the tip of him, his back straightens, even moreso, and, you don't think he knows it, but his legs part even further.

an invitation if you'd ever seen one.

he finally comes back to life when you lean in close enough to nudge your nose to his, just to see him blink.

he's so cute, you want to eat him alive.

"the f-fuck are y'doin'?" he whispers, eyes dropping back down as you stroke him lightly, just enough to coil him tighter. at the end of the tub, water sloshes quietly from the movement, and katsuki's ears burn.

you've caught him entirely off guard, and if it wasn't clear before, it becomes crystalline when you kiss him, deeply. he's lazy to reciprocate, breathing softly, open-mouthed, as you press a soft kiss to his top lip and then to his bottom, whispering his name back to him just to hear his sharp inhale.

you time a clever stroke of your wrist with the firm press of your mouth to his, insistent and fast, urging the wildness of him to catch up, to come out. it hits him all at once—your desire, his own, the heat of it all—and his hand shoots out of the water to grip the back of your neck, a deep groan slipping from his chest as his cock kicks in your hand.

you try more than once to pull back from him with a sneaky little laugh, but his fingers tangle in your hair and he kisses your teeth and you think, maybe, you're not teasing him enough. his knees knock lightly against the ceramic as he tries to spread them, even further, and his hips shift up with every slick pump of your fist, urgent and eager.

he speaks, furiously, against your lips, when you snatch your hand away, instead teasing your fingers along the inside of his thigh. "get—in th'fuckin' tub." his shoulders tremble, ever so slightly. "i ain't askin' again."

you laugh against him and his nostrils flare. "you didn't ask at all!"

"so quit your bullshit already."

you lick his bottom lip, nipping at the fat of it gently before weaving your own hand into his damp hair. "no," you tease, like a brat, but when you tug enough at the strands, he gets the hint and allows you to pull away. "i'm trying to help you relax, you know?"

katsuki doesn't respond at first, only huffing out a frustrated sound when you wrap your hand around his length again. his face is steaming, despite how firm he's trying to be; your own desire strikes hot when his head tips back just slightly, jaw straining as he grits his teeth.

"no," he finally grunts, eyes dark and pinned to you. "'s'the last thing i feel, is-is relaxed."

"hmm," you make a point to frown and look away, like you're thinking, but katsuki's impatience wins out and he drags you back in for a shuddering kiss. he's fervent, now, nipping at your lip and brushing his tongue against your own eagerly, trying to muffle a painful sound against your cheek. "that's too bad," you tell him—but you don't think he hears you, really, over his low curse and the returning slosh of water against the tub.

but when you ask him again, only a handful of minutes later—his boneless answer is precisely what you were looking for.

[teddybeartoji]

18+ mdni; male!reader

staring up at toji with your lips wrapped around his dick, your hands resting behind your back like the good boy that you are – he thinks you fucking look exceptional.

drool trickles from the corners of your lips as you tongue at his foreskin, the sensitive sensation making his jaw fall slack. a layer of sweat coats his skin; toji's glad the wall's there to steady him because he feels like he might faint. it's hot, way too hot. he's wearing too many clothes but he doesn't even want to imagine telling you to stop.

there's an ache in your knees but you couldn't care any less for it – toji's pleasure is your first and utmost priority at this moment. you know you'll be flaunting gorgeous bruises tomorrow, the best remainders of your good work. you also know that he'll be kissing them better. he always does.

you part your lips further to take more of him in your mouth, holding back the gag as he hits the back of your throat. you try to keep your eyes on him though because to see him unraveling like this is a treat; there's a cute flush to his cheeks and the tips of his ears, and the way he's groaning. and panting. he looks fucking hot.

one of his hands rests on the back of your head – he's not really pushing, more so just keeping you in place; nose brushing against the unruly black strands of hair that sprout at the base of his cock, spit dribbling down his heavy balls as you swallow around him.

"fuuuck, baby... "

the nickname makes your own cock twitch, the mess in your boxers getting worse by the second. there was simply no time to remove yours or his clothes – you were on him the second he got home, his complaints about being sweaty and dirty gone unheard as you hungrily latched onto his neck. when you insisted that that's what makes him even sexier, he could only laugh at your neediness but who's he to refuse you of anything? how could he when he felt your hot tongue against his skin and your hand on his hardening bulge?

so, here he is now – balls deep in your warm and tight throat, curses falling from his lips like they're the only words he knows. they keep tumbling out, one right after the other, and every single one of them goes straight to your aching member. you're so hard that it's starting to hurt but you love it. it's the most delicious kind of pain there is – you can never get enough of it.

air can't reach your lungs anymore and slight panic seeps into your body but toji doesn't miss anything, not even when his head is in the clouds. his hand stays cradling your cheek as you pull off of him, chuckling darkly at you trying to catch your breath. his baby.

toji leans down while holding your jaw and whispers against your messy lips. "yer s'fucking perfect, did ya know that?"

and then he kisses you properly; he feels you smiling into him and he can taste himself on your tongue and it's all making him dizzy. he moans into your mouth before matching your lewd grin. his other hand comes to rest on your cheek aswell as if he's afraid that you're going to slip from his hands any given second. he needs to be closer, he needs to devour you. he needs to have you all to himself.

your fingers sink into his hair, roughly tugging at the roots while pressing your thighs together for any sort of relief. toji's practically eating your face and you fucking love it; he's never been one to stray from anything sloppy – quite the opposite really, he fucking loves it. your own drool finds the hand that's holding your chin and he just wants... more.

he licks the inside of your mouth, groaning when you turn to suck on his tongue next. pre-cum drips out of his slit; there's a puddle between the two of you – a mixture of you and him together.

but then he's pulling away with a pop to praise you some more because toji would rather sink six feet below ground than to miss out on seeing the hearts shine in your eyes at his words. "my good boy, yeah?"

nodding your head, you give him a cunning little smirk before pushing him backward, forcing him to rest against the wall again, giving you enough room to continue slobbering all over him. toji's head falls back with a thud and his eyes press themselves shut as you suckle on his sensitive tip like it's some type of candy. that's what always breaks him.

that and—

you cup his big balls and toji lets out a gasp, his fist tightening in your hair. they're all wet as a result of your heavenly mouth and it makes you feel proud. you tug on them just a little and his eyes crack open; two dark orbs stare down at you and you know he's close. you give him a hum and let the vibrations run through his body. the sounds that emit from your actions fill the entire room and it's so, so filthy that they make toji's abdominal muscles contract. he can't hold it in anymore, he can't.

locking eyes with him is all he needs to suddenly spill down your throat, his salty cum flooding your mouth on instant. there's so fucking much of it – you try to swallow as much as you can but let the rest pour over your lips. you know he loves it.

and he really does think you look exceptional. toji doesn't know what he did to deserve you – what'd he do to deserve someone, who treats him like some king. who loves him like you do.

heaving like he just ran a marathon, toji takes a few seconds to compose himself before sending you a lazy, lovesick smile. he wipes the last tear that's running over the apple of your cheek before tugging you up on your feet and you immediately stumble into his chest, your knees dead from sitting on them for so long. hiding your face in his pecs, you both chuckle quietly at your own fucked state of being.

"'m fallin' for you, toji..."

you hear another thud and you know the exact expression he has on his face right now – head lolled back once more, his eyes closed with a stupidly handsome smirk on his face. "ya just had me down yer throat and now yer makin' jokes? ya really are something, huh?"

all bark, no bite.

"you love me."

his hands rest on the small of your back, slowly and smoothly inching toward the waistband of your pants. you're about to scold him for not saying it back but then you feel his lips against the top of your head.

"i really fucking do."

[ervotica]

marking/bruising + felix catton.!!

maybe some possessive and jealous!felix? idk just a little reminder that i'm his 💋

warnings; exhibitionism (felix fingers r publicly), marking, hickeys, heavy making out, 18+ only

a/n; this was sooo much fun to to write! hope you enjoy angel <3

The hem of your minidress is frayed and riding up against the soft fat of your thighs, almost pushing past the threshold of your dampening knickers when Felix shoves a thick fingered hand up the side of the material to palm at your bum. He's mouthing at your neck as if he's possessed, a knee driving up to knock against your clothed cunt.

You feel his smug grin when you angle your hips downward to chase the friction, a soft plea of "Felix," murmured out against the clammy skin of his shoulder. Perspiration beads across your hairline when he nips at the curve of your jaw, lips suctioning to create a blooming dark mark under his fervent touch.

The bass of some regularly played club song thrums through your veins despite the darkness that shrouds both you and your hulking boyfriend; a sharp sting sprouts in the juncture of your shoulder, Felix's teeth sinking into the delicate flesh until you're whining, rolling your hips against the rough denim of his jeans and reaching down to palm the tent that's formed there.

"You know, I like Ollie. But if he keeps looking at you like that, I'm going to deck him," he gasps, rutting into the palm of your hand when you squeeze his cock.

"Ah- Felix," you trill wetly, something halfway between a sob and a moan dislodging from your throat as he pushes your underwear to the side to nudge your swollen clit with the tip of his thumb. “We can’t. Not-not here.”

"Just got to put on a show for Ollie, yeah? Remind him who you belong to?"

His lips capture yours once more, the wet muscle of his tongue licking into your mouth when thick digits squeeze at the fat of your breast. Your head knocks back against the wall, teeth clashing with Felix's; you can feel the heat pulsing from his chest, the ragged breaths that expel when his touch scrubs across your pulse point to anchor your face closer to his.

Your jaw smarts when Felix's teeth sink back into the fragile skin, and you know when you step back into the light you'll be marred with deep bruises. You feel his lips quirk against you, the edges of his mouth pulling up into a cruel smirk when he feels Ollie's eyes boring into the scene unfolding.

"That's better," he murmurs before pulling away and leaving you feeling cold, empty without his warm body pressed to yours. "We'll finish this later, angel."