#grouse grind

[pigeonedlilac]

Thank you guys for the love always . constantly nervous abt what I’m posting but you all always make it worth it 🫶🫶 my love to u!!!!!!!!

comes on here to drop you this ..

thinking about Yuzuru becoming more and more enamored and he doesn’t even realize it 🗣️🗣️ can anyone in the crowd hear me 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

I will be back on to browse enjoy and repost later. Rn I’m going to snooze ^^ good night to all hokuto enjoyers specifically

[thisreallyrattlesmybones]

skully p characters as stock photos part ???

the council of elders:

the monster fuckers hunters:

cassandra pharos:

skulduggery's fucking disguise:

kenspeckle:

clarabelle:

omen:

[three-headed-monster]

noted cross country star luke hughes finished the grouse grind in 41 minutes as a 15 year old

[thatswhatsushesaid]

is this salt at my own expense

maybe

why is it that my least canon-compliant shitpost memes, aka the ones i literally just made for shits and giggles, are the ones that do the most numbers on this site. why is this happening to me. is this punishment for my hubris, for assuming that people would reblog the obviously fanon (TO ME) stuff in the spirit in which they were originally created: to just mash up jpegs and textpost screenshots like fun barbies in Situations, heedless of their basis in canon?

what have i done 😔

[onmytape]

which canuck would you do the grouse grind with

which one can lift the most? i'm looking at the roster trying to determine which one will carry me up 😭 real talk probably quinn. who are you picking?

[daftpatience]

ohh she SHOULDNT be hiking that much without a break!! im just making fun of a particular typa person we have out here (avid hikers)

i hear we are drawing mikus from where we are heres miku from vancouver canada

[yameoto]

caitvi sandwich

wives returning from war

tw; dom!caitlyn, dom!vi, f!reader, double penetration, voyeurism, masturbation, pussyfucking, pussyeating, blowjobs, overstimulation, 3some, sex if it was a competitive sport. wc; 1.8k

you are all they can think about. all fucking day. it’s a wonder they could've waited this long, really, to get home and fuck their sweet, sweet darling. by the time the door opens, they’re ready to jump your skin.

“baby,” vi gasps, bulging arms winding tight around your waist and seizing you—lifting you into the air like you weigh nothing more than a china doll. she kisses you, hard. then kisses you again, and again, and again; peppering down your jaw to your neck to your collar. they’re sloppy in their haste, nuzzling into your throat with a hefty amount of neediness.

seriously. you haven’t even put down your tea, yet.

“stop hogging her.” caitlyn complains, as she collapses back onto the couch. she angles her head upwards, and caitlyn kiramman does not pout—but the gleam of her doe-eyes is uncharacteristically sulky.

vi spins you around, much to your disgruntled (though, secretly pleased), “hey!” before she delightedly turns to caitlyn, smirking. “don’t tell me you’re jealous, little ms. dignitary.”

caitlyn scowls.

“you aren't the only person who’s missed her, you know.” she grouses, and vi just grins. “spread your legs, cupcake.”

there’s a beat in which caitlyn wearily glares, like, really? you’re ordering me around? though she concedes, legs unfolding from their elegant cross to fall open, wide and inviting.

vi promptly plops you into caitlyn’s lap.

caitlyn gasps, pupils darkening in an instant as her knees jerk upwards. she grunts, out loud, when your thighs shift—unintentionally—against her bulge. that’s all it takes, before silk is getting torn of your shoulders by pale hands, and vi is tugging the skin of your nape between her teeth, exhaling shakily against your ear. so. they were clearly on edge.

“been thinkin’ bout you all day, princess.”

“understatement.” caitlyn hisses, hips canting upwards to grind shamelessly up against your groin. oh, gods. she’s getting harder by the minute. “i seem to remember your descriptions on the ride home, vividly.”

“what can I say? it got you all hot and bothered.”

“with nowhere to take care of it.”

you swallow, cheeks hot. “do i get a say in this?”

“no. “no.” two voices resound at once, almost unintelligible with the way vi is biting into your shoulder and caitlyn has begun to ravish the expanse of your tits, like they both won’t be pleased until you leave, bruised and marked to oblivion.

hands seize your hips, flipping you easily—back onto the couch. you can’t tell whose. especially when your eyelids squeeze shut the moment a palm cups your quickly slickening cunt, rubbing over your panties.

“hah..”

“fuck. been dreamin’ bout this sweet pussy all day.” vi murmurs, hungrily, nose dragging up the insides of your thighs. she marks her way in furious nips, getting sloppier and sloppier; desperate to tongue her way to the prize.

“ha.” caitlyn’s voice is drill, yet amused. your eyes fly open when your legs are wrenched apart by large, veined hands, and vi grins up at you from between your legs.

your tea, is now unceremoniously spilled all over the floor, porclein in pieces. all in the name of seizing vi’s pink head of hair and smushing her up against your quickly soddening pussy, whining in need. she winks, the asshole, yanking silken underwear down in clumsy movements, and then her rough hands are clamping, spreading you wide open. she’s being beckoned by the heady scent of your cunt; tantalisingly all-consuming. her mouth is watering.

listen. vi wants to work you up—wants to take her time, relish each and every drop that coats your folds in that thickening glisten. it’s just—fuck, princess. d’you have to smell so goddamn good?

“can you not be patient?” caitlyn husks, and annoyance has never sounded so fucking sexy. “i’m trying to enjoy the view.” her legs have slid, to fit over your shoulders, and when your eyes flutter upwards; you’re greeted with the underside of her cock. it arcs above your head, obscuring most of your vision, and it’s enough to draw a needy little whine out of you, hips jerking upwards—right into vi’s waiting mouth.

that’s how it goes. her tongue drags, hot and flat against your swelling, puffy clit, before exhaling into your cunt like a little fucking tease before she dives in.

“who’s fuckin’ pussy is this?” vi growls, mouthing feverishly, one hand pre-occupied with jerking herself, furiously off, whilst the other slides two fingers, stretching you generously open.

“ah-ah—mm—yours.. ow—!

“ours.” caitlyn corrects, twisting your nipple sharply, in reprimand. it’s hard for her to be too mad, when you nose into the wedge of her thighs, apologetically, your hips shaking the couch—like a kitten nuzzling against an outstretched knuckle.

her gaze lowers, black and blue; and your lips part; glossy, plush, and absolutely begging for it. caitlyn can’t resist—her dick sliding its way into your open mouth.

you take her tip like a greedy thing, lips wrapping round and tongue slicking underneath, arching up for more.

“shit, darling.” caitlyn gasps, entire body shuddering, all around you. it takes everything in her not to throat-fuck you right then and there, nails digging into the fabric of the armrest, eyes rolling backwards as you nurse on her cock.

vi laughs, pleased and breathy. each tremor thrums straight to your core. her tongue swirls, panting; hot and heavy, as she pumps her fingers ever deeper, burrowing into your pussy like a woman starved. there are slurping noises, because she’s a messy fucking eater and there’s nothing she loves more than having you smeared all over her chin, her nose, her cheeks—as long as she’s salivating into your pussy. the searing coil in the pits of your stomach winds, tighter and hotter like a spring, overheating.

you can feel vi’s lips curling upwards with every clench of your thighs—hips spasming—bucking heedlessly into tongue. she fucks your head empty. in fact, all you can do is moan into caitlyn’s cock, and that sends shocks of pleasure trembling up caitlyn’s length to her spine; unable to resist pumping herself, deeper, into the warm, wet heat of your throat.

all of sudden, vi thrusts another finger inside, just as her tongue drags upwards and mouth sucks, hard on your clit. she curls, knuckles pulsing against your tight, tight walls. caitlyn seems to approve, because her slow, treacherously-shaky motions begin to stutter into frenetic jerks, breathing harsh. overwhelmed, you let out a mangled croon—back arching off the couch—pinned down two ways, by the cock in your throat and the tongue in your cunt—and promptly cum all over vi’s face.

vi licks it all up. glances upwards from between your legs, smug and pussydrunk, cum dripping from her lips. she makes a show of swiping it with her tongue, though you’re too spoiled by the warm aftershocks of pleasure wracking your body to do too much about it. caitlyn is still fucking you, trying her damndest to remain in control, but her restraint is slipping with every trickle of white that rolls down vi’s throat, and the way you tug her dick deeper into your mouth, like you were made for it.

all you can do, for the moment, is attempt to catch your breath—chest rising and falling in shallow pants as you suck on caitlyn’s cock, suctioning her in, weakly. her hips rock, and in the fuzzy whiteness that’s throbbing your brain you almost don’t realise vi is lifting up off the couch and fisting her own cock in her hands, until your pussy is being splayed open and—ah—fuck!

“hush, baby.” vi coos, almost in awe at the way your pussy gapes, loosened by her fingers and her tongue and wet, wet, wet with her saliva, your pleasure. it yawns open. takes the thick length of her girth so easily. she fucks back into you, smooth and languid, gently tracing fingers up your hips. you’re trembling in overstimulation, sensitive, sore. they always seem to find a way to leave you like that.

“look at you. takin’ me and cait so well.”

look at you, indeed. the outline of vi’s cock pumps in you, along with caitlyn’s own; one raised against your abdomen, the other down your throat. it has the two of them almost dizzy with arousal. vi buries herself inside you—fucking your aching walls in loose, hot drags; biceps tense in fighting the urge to not roughly slam you balls-deep and fuck you into the couch, like some wild animal—lest you choke on caitlyn’s dick. speaking of—

“oh, darling.” caitlyn shudders, as her balls tighten and her thighs clamp down, around you. “i think i’m—ah—“

at the last second, caitlyn jerks herself out from your mouth and aims. her load shoots out—a thick, white arc that splatters against vi’s tits and streams down her torso. there’s a viscous, glossy streak down the line of your body—like a bucket of paint knocked over.

caitlyn pants. vi ceases her motions, momentarily. glancing down at the mess, glistening down the ridges of her abdomen—and then back up at the woman, thighs locked around your head.

she smirks, chest heaving, hips still working. “wow.”

“oh, shut up.” caitlyn slurs, slumping against the armrest of the couch, temporarily satiated. her cock drizzles weakly, as she pumps it lazily in her hand, watching vi fuck you, gentle and slow—hand curling into your hair. her dick twitches.

“next time, you’re swallowing.”

a drop of leftover cum beads, down her length, and splashes on your lip. your tongue drags out, and it’s with a deliberate little arch, you lick it into your mouth. two, twinning inhales; sharp, and shaky. vi’s hips stutter. caitlyn’s eyes meet yours, dark.

oh, you’re not getting a wink of sleep, tonight.

[screampied]

can you please please write manhandling & squirting w gojo :(

❤︎ ໋𓈒 telling your best friend satoru that you can’t make yourself squirt

warnings. fem! reader, manhandling, praise, fingering, talking you through it, rev cowgirl, dirty talk, squírting, mdni.

legs sprawled, toes all curled up, you were desperately trying to make yourself squirt. it’s never happened to you and you wanted to experience what it was like—you read through various erotic stories of how it feels way different than just your everyday ordinary orgasm. with your teeth softly digging against your bottom lip, your fingers gently rummage throughout and against your clit. after a while though, you end up sighing—on the verge of giving up before as if on literal cue, your best friend gojo opens the door.

“hey, is it any more . . oh! uh,” he’d murmur, walking in on you with your legs sprawled all open. gojo suppresses a giggle that was about to escape from his lips before he utters. “. . . should i come back another time? you seem busy.”

there was smugness dripping underneath his tone and you were far too aroused to feel embarrassed. “no,” you puff. “i need help, satoru.”

“yeahh you seem like it,” he snickers. running a hand through his hair, he hums to himself before his eyes avert towards your lazily slid to the side panties. “is that what you call fingering yourself?”

“. . . shut up,” you chastise, and his sly smirk only widens. gojo stares at you for a long while before inching closer towards you—plopping down beside you. the mattress jolts a bit from his weight and he cocks his head to the left in pure amusement. “i need help. i can’t … i can’t squirt.”

gojo sneers. “oh, you sure can. you just don’t know what the fuck you’re doing, angel, heh.”

he had such a smart mouth, the dramatically frustrated sigh that deserts past your lips was too adorable—in his eyes at least.

the way you were so dedicated to making yourself have a proper finish was so cute . . but you couldn’t, you needed his help—you wanted his help.

“hm but okay,” he shrugs with a cheeky grin, getting right beside you. gojo lightly grabs your wrist, peering at how you’d already soak two of your digits with sloppy amounts of slick before he titters. “aw, poor thing. these useless fingers just can’t do shit, huh?”

“just fucking help me.” you grouse at him, a pouty scowl ceasing against your lips firmly.

“fine, girl fine,” he rolls his eyes. “i’ll take it from here.”

and he does because once he starts to ‘help’ you, it’s in a way that has you merely speechless.

with your neck slightly whirling towards the left, you’re mindlessly bouncing up at down on his thick cock. you’re faced the opposite way, your back leans up against his chest. gojo holds you up with no problem, a brief squeeze on your thighs and you start to whimper at how close his fat tip thwacks against a particularly sensitive spot.

“f— fuckk, ‘toru,” you’d whimper out, feeling him reach the deep components inside of you.

so deliciously good, you felt a few droplets of your own saliva trickle past your lips as you slump back against him. “so deep, stuffin’ me f— full, ‘toru.”

“. . . hah,” he pants heavily, tensed abs flexing each time he drags you up and down. he’s treating you like a rag doll. you didn’t expect him to do all this, having you all up and down. although, who were you to complain—he was reaching every spot without an ounce of trouble. “guess i can reach better than those fingers ever could, hm angel?”

“y—yes, yesss,” you stammer, your voice all shaky, trembling on each syllable that you spat out. “satoru, harder. fuck me, f—fuckkk me.”

you repeat the same words out your spit-glossed lips. with such a firm grip, he’s making your hips slam up and down—such a rigorous rhythm…

you try to grind a bit against him but you only end up slouching against his bare chest. it was simply no secret, gojo was known to be lengthy, longer than thick when it came to his cock. every orifice, he makes sure to locate every spot inside of your gummy walls with the crown of his shaft.

gush after gush, you’re spasming on him and you make a cute attempt at grabbing his wrist, clammy hands piercing into his skin. “s-so good, more ‘toru. right there, pleaseee . . !”

“i got ya.” he huffs, warm breaths waft right up against your earlobe. he’s holding you in place, each time he bounces you up again and again.

your eyes do that cute thing where it rolls all the way back into your cranium. it’s cute, lewd . . but cute.

with your pretty pupils dilated, all you see is nothing but pure splotches of white. his cock’s buried so deep that you’re stuck in a trance, a trance you never wanted to escape from.

“. . . awww,” he purrs against your ear, a big hand softly cupping your chin. he feels some of your translucent spit pour down the sides of your lips before smearing it over your mouth with his thumb. “such a messy baby. you feel it comin’ don’t you?” he teases, nipping a kiss near your neck once you squeeze his wrist a tad bit tighter. “oh. you want me to hold your hand, is that it?”

“sato—ru,” you whine, a cute trembly voice making a special appearance.

but oh, the stretch…

it was so good simply divine.

each second is spent with gojo’s dick delving into your clenched walls. a syrupy ear ringing whimper snatches right out of your throat before you speak once more, “satoru, ‘toru, s—satoru.”

“hey, that’s me,” he grunts with a coy grin, feeling how well you clamp down on him—of course, he’d make a joke out of nearly anything. you’re like a bobbling doll, feeling your cunt squeeze him tight before within seconds, your thighs began to quaver.

with your legs quavering, it was as if a volcano was preparing to erupt. violently, your legs start to tense and you’re steadily pulsing and pulsing. something’s coming and it’s coming fast…

it had to be exactly what you were thinking. it felt a bit different though. pressure presses down against you and you feel gojo’s fingers intertwine with yours. “heh, you’re kinda dramatic, huh?” he teases—and right before he can give you another snarky reply, he brings your hips to an abrupt halt. teeth chomping down together, your jaw insignificantly tightens and you feel a certain sharp twinge for at least three and a half seconds.

“i- i’m about to s-squirt, ‘toru,” you warn him, and he nips another chaste kiss near the crook of your neck.

“nuh uh. you’re going to squirt, trust me. give it to me, yeah. grind against me ‘n just listen to my voice, mhm.”

his voice.. just the way he spoke to you in such a playfully deep tone was enough to make you finish on the spot.

gojo holds you still. he’s still buried deep inside. stuffing you fill of hefty inches before he brings a hand towards your swollen puffy entrance. “damn, she really is so fuckin’ sloppy,” he grunts, starting to maneuver slow circles against your pussy. he makes haste with it though, and your lips part before moaning once you even hear the evidence yourself.

squelch, squelch, squelch..

it’s loud, it rings throughout your ears—each time, it’s louder than the next. he’s so sloppy with it too, no shame whatsoever. gojo then drags a soft thumb down your slit that was just sopping. everything felt so fervent - the way he’d strum his fingers against your cunt, only to then give it a concise spank.

“s-satoru, fuckkk.” you’d gasp, leaning way back with your legs still sprawled, “i—”

“now—don’t be rude, angel. she’s tryna speak to me, let her do her thing, baby,” and he clearly referring to your dripping wet pussy. he continues, rubbing against your clit at a much more rapid speed now. your legs could barely hold themselves open. mouth twitching, you feel a rupture on the very brink of rippling out of you before his spanks against your pussy come again, and again, and again…

“sloppy girl with a sloppy … fuckin’ … cunt.”

his words get more raspy and degrading and he’s way too into it to pause. with a thumb slowly tickling against your spasming nub, he watches at you moan a shrieking whine before not even seconds later, it happens. you gush out, and it’s a lot to where you even dampen gojo’s lap. thankfully he was prepared, keeping a towel underneath you just in case you were a bit too much of a soaked.

and soaked you were, it felt so good that you didn’t even know what to say… more like, you didn’t know what to think.

your mind was blank, equivalent to an empty canvas. he’s so mean, whispering such filthy murmurs into your ear before he lets you ride out your orgasm.

wet, you felt that entire word right between your legs. gojo’s still playing with you, cock stuffing your pussy full to the very brim before he feels you bare around him.

“. . seeeee,” he pants, humming in a soft tune.

he squeezes your folds tighter just to hear that honeyed mewl rip from your sweet lips. he gradually pulls out and now you’re just laying back against his chest with the dumbest expression. “told ya you didn’t know what the fuck you were doing,” he chaffs before making you turn your neck, dragging you into a deep kiss.

it catches you by surprise, you connect your lips against his and that’s when he makes you fall back. you watch with glossy eyes before he then grabs ahold of chin with one hand, brushing it tenderly against your skin. “say ah, open that pretty mouth for me ‘n taste what a messy girl you are.”

you felt your heartbeat go straight between your legs. once you loll out your tongue for him, staring right into his bright cerulean irises, he stuffs your mouth with two fingers. the same fingers that were covered in nothing but your sweet wet arousal. “yeah, run that tongue around my fingers ‘n taste it all, baby.”

you moan, swirling your tongue alongside his digits before you briefly end up gagging at the tips of his fingers massaging against the very back part of your throat.

“good girl,” he whispers—pulling his fingers out real slowly, he does this purposeful. a sheeny trail of your glistening saliva follows out from your lips before he gives you another long kiss before departing. “now, let’s do it again. but this time,” he utters, making you lie back against your back. “i’ll make you squirt just from my tongue, angel. let’s make that cute squirt velocity a little stronger, hm?”

[astralnymphh]

dry humping with ellie..

els is such the type to start dry humping as a joke, but then slowly the suggestive nature begins to whirl her brain 180 and genuinely starts bucking into you. like, you just bend over to retrieve something from the lower cupboards and her lanky ass slinks over, hooks both curled hands into your folded hips and thrusts you into her groin, giggling, "dang, all this for me?" and you can just feel two lazers burning holes on your ass, bobbing limply as she continues to hump you. you grouse in a chuckle, "hey! stop that– that is not for you!" but she doesn't listen. of course. it's redundant to even attempt a complaint. then it keeps going, and going– anddd gooinggg, till she can't stop. the jab of her steel denim button just gets harsher and harsher, with airy moans to get all blushy about, "uhuhh~ fuck, your ass feels s'good– shhhit–" her teeth clamp, hissing cold air. realistically, the inseam of her crotch was tightening just right to split her folds and sandwich her achy clit, not that your ass had any physical stimulation to give her. you intervene, an intervention destined to spoil, forwarding your hips out of her grasp and locking your spine upright, "okay, els, please–" to your dismay, horny hips follow, and grinds denim against denim like a literal horndog. her strapping grips mark dents around your hip crest, using you as support while she possessively ruts into your plush butt, summery hot breath coating gales on your ear, "don't pull away, mhh– fuck you think ur' going?" and hacks a timid laugh, caving open lips to your ear and clasping points of her teeth lightly.

[greenmilkyee]

force them into the grouse grind ONG

co-signing this

[zepskies]

Lost in Translation

Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x Female POC!Reader

Summary: Living with this man isn’t easy, and you’ve absolutely had it with him. Supe or not, you’re one step shy of kicking him out. Will he try to make it up to you? 

AN: So after getting requests for a Soldier Boy x POC!Reader, I’ve had a short series in development called Unravel Me. I’m a bit stalled on the outline right now, so I thought this could be a fun way to introduce their relationship and see if you guys think I should continue with the prequel, kind of like how I did with Checkerboard and the Break Me Down-verse.

This story would take place after Unravel Me, after a fair bit of character development lol. It also fulfills a bingo square for @jacklesversebingo!

Prompt: “Whatever you’re going to ask, the answer is No!”

Song Inspo: “Damage” by H.E.R.

Word Count: 3.4K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, bit of dirty talk, fingering, edging, some angst, fluff and feels. The reader is a mixed race POC (Afro Latina), with textured hair. 

The apartment was quiet, but not peaceful.

You were in the kitchen washing the Mt. Everest of dishes piled in the sink, partly because someone hadn’t rinsed off his own plate of carne guisada.

Ben had asked for beef for dinner yesterday, and you’d graciously delivered with your grandmother’s recipe for the stew. It was filled with chunks of tender, fall-off-your-fork beef, garlic, onions, carrots, and more—all marinated to perfection, if you said so yourself. You even added in some little yellow potatoes, both for taste and texture.

Apparently, he couldn’t be bothered to put those meaty man muscles to good use, aside from shoveling three helpings into his mouth.

A bottomless pit and a freakin’ man-child, I swear to God, you inwardly groused as you scrubbed the ceramic a bit too hard with the rough side of the sponge. No matter how many times you asked, nicely, it seemed your boyfriend couldn’t manage to pull his weight around here.

Okay, you knew his job could be demanding, but so was yours.

What the hell is this, Maid in Manhattan? Newsflash: I’ve got shit to do too! 

“And I cooked!” you muttered in indignation. That reminder propelled you to scrub a bit harder. The least he could do was clean the kitchen. Or take out the trash. Or toss the laundry into the washing machine once in a while. Like you really wanted to handle his dirty boxers all the damn time.

Did he have no shame? Couldn’t he do anything for you without you having to ask him three million times?

Es que él es bruto, mija, as your Dominican grandma would say about your grandpa, often while swiping a tired hand over her long braids. Es como un animal con ropa.

Just then, you heard his heavy steps creaking on the wood floors in your bedroom. Today was his day off, so he was probably taking his sweet time rolling his ass out of bed.

Meanwhile, you were hustling to get the place at least decently clean before you got yourself together for work. The thought made you simmer as you continued to place dishes on the counter rack. Each one clacking to rest was satisfying, but it also ticked up your internal dial to a fine boil. 

You heard him bang the bathroom door open and cringed internally, your teeth grinding. You’d reminded him three times already about the neighbors and the noise.

Sabes que, supe or not, I’m about to— 

“Morning, sweetheart.”

Ben’s voice washed over you, deep and still a little rough with sleep as he stepped into the kitchen. His old man loafers slid against the floor with every step when he approached you from behind, and his heavy hands found a familiar resting place on the curve of your waist.

He swiped your slightly wild curls to the side and pressed a tantalizing kiss into your neck. His voice, his touch, the brief scrape of his beard; it all caused a small shiver of delight up your spine.

“Hmm, you smell good. Good enough to eat.” And he teased you with the graze of his teeth, biting gently enough where your neck met your shoulder. You flinched with half a huff, trying not to smile. 

Just like that, it took the edge off your irritation…a little. You opened your mouth to reply, but before you could…

“Hey,” he said, “since you’re already up and about in here, how about some breakf—”

Your spine tightened once again.

“Whatever you’re going to ask, the answer is No!” you snapped. You moved out of his arms to grab a hand towel to dry your hands with. They were all pruny from washing dishes.

“I’m already running late. Why? Because this place is a fucking mess, and the only one who seems to care is me!” you exclaimed. First, you gestured to the dishes now drying on the rack. “Hmm?”

You then opened up the lid to the full-to-bursting trashcan. “What do you call that, huh? You said you’d take this out last night. After I asked you twice. What, was I not speaking English? Did something get lost in translation, or are you already losing your hearing? Just let me know, ‘cause I can sure as hell crank up the volume for you!”

Ben raised a brow. You read his thoughts in his surly frown. You have some fucking audacity, talking to him like that, but it’s still early. He hasn’t even had his coffee, for Christ’s sake.

If he was more awake, no doubt he’d be barking back at you. Instead, he heaved a sigh, drew closer to you and shut the trashcan lid. At least there was one lid he knew how to close.

“All right, it’s just a little mess. No need to get fucking hysterical,” he said, trying to grasp your arm to placate you. You shrugged out of his hold and crossed your arms in anger.

“Ben, it’s not just a little mess. And what is this, 1945? I’m not hysterical!”

His lips twitched at a smirk, making you even angrier. But he’d caught enough smoke from you in the past to know he didn’t want it at 8:00 in the morning. He grasped your arms and rubbed them up and down, trying to sooth you.

“Okay, okay. It’s a little early for all this Latina temper, don’tcha think?” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. Your gaze snapped up at him with a glare.

Oooh, this man. He knew how to get you mad fucking tight.

Not in a good way.

Instead of exploding like Mount Fuji, you kept it all under your skin. You turned away from him and aimed to continue getting ready for work, but first, you took out a Greek yogurt from the fridge and wholly ignored him taking up space in the kitchen. You wouldn’t answer him when he called your name. In fact, you were going to give him the most frigid of cold shoulders—so cold he’d get hyperthermia through that invulnerable skin.

He waylaid your plans when he grabbed your hand, swinging you back into his arms. You gasped at the suddenness of it, looking up into his cocky, charming smile. You couldn’t stare too long at his green eyes, or the rest of his handsome, bearded face. Not when he knew exactly how to use it against you.

“Don’t think that’s gonna get you out of this,” you warned him. You set your yogurt on the kitchen counter and pushed at his chest, but it was no more effective than pushing at a mountain and expecting it to move.

His hands spanned your waist, his fingers beginning to press into your soft sides. He bowed his head, brushing his lips against your neck and the shell of your ear when he said, “Out of what, baby doll? Looks to me like we can still have a good morning.”

His voice once against trilled heat and tingles through your body, but you managed to lean back, holding the pads of your fingers to his lips.

“Hey, I’m not playing around here. If we’re gonna do this,” you pointed between him and yourself, “then let me make one thing really clear. I’m not la sirvienta around here, okay? I’m not your fucking maid. I’m your girl. Your partner. And since you live here now, I’m gonna need you to do your part.”

Ben almost rolled his eyes, but you grasped his chin. He frowned at you with furrowed brows. There was a time where he would've been inclined to grab your wrist and try to intimidate you with his temper. You saw it lying in wait behind his pursed lips and irritated stare, but you weren't afraid of him. Not anymore.

“Listen to me. I get that you haven’t lived like us commoners for most of your life, but this stuff is important,” you said. You took a deep breath, and you counted to three. You met him with a calmer gaze. “Ben, I love you.”

You let go of his chin and lowered your hand, letting it splay over his chest. He softened, ever so slightly, even though his frown remained.

“I love you,” you repeated, “but I don’t need a man-child.”

"Excuse me?" he did snap this time, his hold loosening from around your waist. "The fuck did you just say?"

You narrowed your eyes right back at him.

"You heard me," you said. "I want a man. A man who's going to be my rock when I need him. Can you do that for me, like I do for you? Are you gonna be my man, or do I need to claim you as a dependent on my taxes?"

His expression sharpened again at your thinly veiled accusation…but the longer he looked into your eyes, no longer angry, but earnest and imploring, the more he actually listened to what you were saying. His jaw worked for a moment in annoyance. You subtly softened him with your hands soothing up and down his arms, a slow back and forth over solid, warm muscle.

Eventually, he was able to curb his instinct to bark a callous reply. He nodded, expelling a breath through his nose.

“Fine,” he said.

Your brows rose. “Fine?”

“Yeah,” he said flatly.

You knew it was the closest you were going to get to an agreement, as well as an apology. You were still working on that last one, but dating this man was a work in progress, for both of you. With a sigh, you patted his arms that were slowly wrapping back around you.

“Okay, I’m really running late now,” you said.

“You should probably get a move on then,” Ben said.

Still, he didn’t release you. He stared down at you with an amused smile while you struggled against his hold. You uttered a laugh.

“Babe, I need to get to work.” You leaned over and spied the oven clock. “Oh, shit! it’s almost 8:30! If I’m not there by 9:00—”

“You sure you want to go now? Tense, body all tight,” he said, his voice deep with sensuous suggestion.

His lips neared yours, but he didn’t kiss you. Not yet. His lips veered away to brush against your cheek. He inhaled deeply as he moved, taking in the floral scent of your soap, mixed with the army of products you styled your hair with, and the faint imprint of your perfume from the night before. He skimmed down your neck and along the shell of your ear.

“Wouldn’t you rather I fuck all that tension right out of you?” he offered. “Leave you nice and warm and satisfied, have that pretty pussy coming hard on my cock.”

You let out a shaky breath, closing your eyes as his filthy mouth and the timbre of his voice struck a chord through your body, tinging warm arousal between your legs. Your fingers tightened on his strong arms, digging into the fabric of his loose robe. Ben took that as a wordless confirmation. He bent at the knees and grabbed you up by your plush thighs. You wrapped your arms around his neck on instinct, with a small gasp.

But you recovered quickly. Taking his face into your hands, you met his lips roughly with yours in a devouring kiss. He set you down on the kitchen counter hard enough to make the clean dishes rattle. His hands were just as claiming as his mouth, squeezing your hips and thighs as he spread them open to make more room for himself.

While your tongue dueled with his, you shoved the robe off his shoulders, followed by his sleep shirt pooling to the floor. His hand slid under your top as well, and almost ripped it at the hem in his haste to get it up and over your head.

“Ow, ah-ow!” You giggled when the collar got caught on your hair. Ben’s breathy chuckle reached your ears. He was gentler in how he helped get the shirt off the rest of the way. Your mane of hair fell into your face, and you huffed.

Ben did you the favor of brushing the thick curls away from your eyes, tugging several strands behind your ears, even though most of them didn’t obey him. He framed your face with his big hands, and his thumbs swept along your skin, the rich complexion shining in the morning light filtering through the kitchen window.

There was more care in his touch now, his strength tempered just for you. Fond amusement colored his features. For as much shit as you gave him, you still gave him more of yourself; more of your trust, your patience...and all the rest of it. You gave him more than anyone that had come before you, and deep inside, he doubted anyone that might come after you.

You smiled up at him, a little wryly. You leaned up and met him for a gentler kiss. Your eyes fell closed at the feeling of him, and the spicy hint of his aftershave. It was a scent that often clung to his pillows. When he was gone on a mission for days on end, you wouldn’t admit to clinging to one of them to help you sleep, and make you feel safe. 

“Mmm, you smell good,” you whispered. And it was true. He smelled like mint and spicy aftershave. You plied his lips with deeper kisses, licking into his mouth with a sensuous tongue, before you stole his words. “Good enough to eat.”

He uttered a groan deep in his throat. It satisfied you, enhancing the warm flood between your legs.  

Fuck it. You were calling in sick today.

You drew him back into the pull of you, winding your arms around his neck and your fingers in his hair. It was getting long again, but you liked it. You liked something to hold onto, just as much as he did. Your nails brushed against his scalp, down the back of his neck, earning a hum of pleasure from him. You wound your legs tightly around his hips and invited the press of his hard cock against your throbbing core, even through your panties and pajama pants. A faltering groan caught in his chest.

“Needier that I thought this morning,” he remarked. His warm hands drifted down to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over dark, pebbled nipples. You sighed into his mouth in response.

You heard the cocky grin in his voice, but for once, you didn’t care. You did need him. You wanted him to fuck the stress and chaos out of you.

…Well, he’d caused most of it, but still. He was gonna damn well fix it.

And he aimed to do just that, with his hands sliding farther down your body with purpose, grabbing the waistband of your pajama pants and roughly sliding them down, along with your panties. Your bare ass felt cold against the tile counter, but you didn’t have too much time to think about it with Ben’s thick fingers probing between the wet, glistening folds of your pussy. He soon found what he was searching for, circling firmly over your clit.

Your hips raised off the counter as you whimpered against his lips and ground yourself against his hand. You broke from his kiss to bury your face in his neck. Ben’s free hand grasped your hip and pulled you right to the edge of the counter.

There he held you down, his brows furrowing in concentration. His fingers sought your entrance and slipped inside you with ease. By now, he knew what angles would have you squirming, writhing, your body arching into him, while your inner walls clenched around his hand.

“Fuck. That’s right, baby doll. I’ve gotcha,” he said roughly, continuing to fuck your pussy with his fingers. His thumb rubbed against your clit between strokes.

The coil in your lower belly began to tighten, the delicious throbbing deep inside beginning to make your thighs shake. But just as you felt yourself tipping over the edge, Ben withdrew his fingers from your sopping channel.

You struggled to catch your breath in shock. Your head raised from Ben’s shoulder to glare at him. When your mouth opened to deliver an indignant protest, he silenced you with his mouth claiming yours. Your nails bit into his shoulder in retaliation, even though you knew it wouldn’t hurt him in the slightest. In fact, it only curved his lips into a smirk against yours.

You slapped him on the shoulder, immensely frustrated, but also laughing. “You’re such an assh—”

Before you could even finish cursing him, he gathered you up again and lifted you off the counter. He walked you over to the couch in the living room. He would’ve loved nothing better than to lay you out across the two-seater table in the kitchen, but he thought the shitty old wood might just give out under the strain of him fucking you. So the living room was a close second, and in this tiny-ass apartment, it was barely a few feet more to walk.

He laid you out underneath him on couch, and it groaned and squeaked under both of your weight. You squeaked too, if for a different reason. It had Ben smirking down at you. He freed himself from the confines of his pajama pants and coated his rock-hard arousal with the leftover wetness coating his hand.

“I approve of the scene change,” you said breathlessly, once again stroking his arms. Your fingers slipped over every dip and plain of muscle.  

“Didn’t think you wanted to be fucked on some cold tile,” he said, even if the sentiment behind his words warmed you. You were pretty sure he didn’t used to care about that. At least, before he met you.

He grabbed your hips, lined himself up to your entrance, and his cock breached you smoothly, pushing into you until his hips fit snugly against yours.

“Oh, fuck,” you choked out, your thighs squeezing around his frame.

“Feel good, sweetheart? All fuckin' filled up,” Ben teased, a bit breathless himself. You were a tight fucking fit. He slid out of you experimentally, drawing a moan from your lips. You nodded.

“Yeah, baby. So good,” you freely admitted, panting all the while.

Ben’s hot gaze drew over you as he continued moving hard and fast inside you. He took in your every bare curve, the way hot breaths and sexy moans fell from your lips with every thrust, the way your hair fanned out underneath you and hung off the side of the sofa cushion, the way your hands still explored him and touched him, demanding, but still loving.

For that, it was all the more tantalizing against his skin, warming even the darkest places he tried not to show you.

And every drag of his cock inside you stretched your inner walls in the most delicious of ways. It wasn’t just that he was able to fill you to the fucking brim. He also just knew his way around a woman’s body. He knew you, and he knew exactly how to make you come undone. Even quick and dirty on your couch, he made you feel brand new. 

He was right, damn him.

The coil deep inside you snapped. Pleasure crested through you and made your inner walls squeeze him tight, fluttering and pulsing with warmth. You came hard on his cock, hard enough to milk his release shortly after for all he was worth.

His forearms fell to the cushion on either side of your head. You were basically being smothered, but for the moment you didn’t mind. You just held his sweat-slick body against yours while you both caught your breath, each of your heartbeats falling back into a steady rhythm.

He was always so damn warm. It was nice, considering how cold it was this winter, but the thought always made you a bit sad. It reminded you of the power housed in his chest, and every memory he caged there as well.

You laid a gentle kiss on his shoulder. In return, his lips found the side of your head and hesitated there.

“You’re not going to work,” he said. It was more an observation than anything else.

You laughed breathlessly and shook your head. “Nope.”

He nodded. “Let’s go out for breakfast.”

You could get behind that. Your kitchen was finally clean, which meant your kitchen was closed until further notice.

“Shower first,” you stipulated.

You felt Ben’s smile grow against your dewy skin. “All right.”

You sighed, and he guided you to your feet along with him. You had a feeling “breakfast” was going to be lunch by the time you and Ben finally escaped this apartment.      

AN: Lol hope you had fun with this one! Let me know if you'd like to see more of these two! 💚💚

Spanish Translations:

Es que él es bruto, mija. Es como un animal con ropa.

It’s that he’s stupid, my daughter. He's like an animal with clothes.

However, “bruto” can also mean brutish, crude, and/or like a beast, so it fits in more than one way. 😂

Sabes que, …

You know what, …

La sirvienta

The servant (or maid) (female)

Join Patreon 🌟 Get early access to new stories, bonus content, and first looks at upcoming stories, send me requests, and more!

Jacklesverse Bingo 2024 Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Soldier Boy Tag List

@spnwoman @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @adoringanakin @rizlowwritessortof @chernayawidow

@midnightmadwoman @deans-spinster-witch @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78

@deansbbyx @sarahgracej @this-is-me19 @kazsrm67 @jacklesbrainworms

@waynes-multiverse @my-stories-vault @syrma-sensei @alwaystiredandconfused @globetrotter28

@mrsjenniferwinchester @charmed-asylum @waywardxwords @k-slla @deanbrainrotwritings

@jackles010378 @deans-daydream @deanwinchestersgirl87 @rachiem4-blog @just-levyy

@leigh70 @kmc1989 @ghostslillady @siampie @jessjad

@beautyvaliant @mimaria420 @kaleldobrev @pieandmonsters @twinkleinadiamondsky

@stoneyggirl2 @sl33pylilbunny @spnfamily-j2 @mostlymarvelgirl @artemys-ackles

@chevroletdean @winchestergirl2 @a-lil-pr1ncess @winchester-whiskey @spnbabe67

@cheynovak @megara0224 @yoongi-holland @illicithallways @perpetualabsurdity

@deansimpala @impala-dreamer @jc-winchester @k4marina @atenea585

@kayleighwinchester @samslvrgirl @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @star-yawnznn @number1whorehome

@g0ldfishd00dles @10ava01 @sixxteenbullets @tayl0rfanatic @everything-is-all-clear

@suckitands33 @cookiechipdough @trashmoutth @riteofpassage77 @mxltifxnd0m

@bleuatlas @luci-in-trenchcoats @valerinapetrova @spnaquakindgdom @podiumackles

@ladykitana90

@lamentationsofalonelypotato (I believe you said you would like to be tagged in this one. If not, I'm sorry, friend. Please disregard! 💚)

[merakiui]

how well do you think jade would handle pregnant darlibg who is inconsolably horny? she’s always on him. most recently she tried to ride his arm🤭

Very well. >:) if anything, Jade is pleasantly surprised your libido has skyrocketed into something unfathomable. He read that human libido varies for each pregnant person and that it can either be nonexistent or up in the clouds and rivaling that of the sex gods.

One thing about Jade is that he never does anything he doesn’t want to do, so you’ll never have to worry about how he’ll handle the change in your hormones and insatiable horny. Jade himself has an insatiable (sexual) appetite when it comes to you, so if his hands aren’t on you, whether teasing or touching or just enjoying the feeling of your softness and warmth beneath his palm in sweet, loving, mostly innocent intimacy, call someone because a Jade who isn’t handsy is not Jade!!!!

He’s always willing to indulge and spoil you, and naturally this extends to sex. He’ll go at it with you for however long it’s safe during your pregnancy, finding ways to deliver bliss when your bump gets in the way and becomes particularly unwieldy. He’ll eat you out, curl his fingers inside you, tease your clit, bite and suck marks into your skin… sometimes you think he’s more insatiable than you when he’s like this. Jade cums so hard he’s seeing stars. You’re just so hot,,, he loves his wife. He is so obsessed with you.

Jade cannot fathom how some partners find pregnancy and the way it changes the body unattractive. You’ll grouse about all of this extra weight and the hormones and the heaviness in your chest and everything else, but in Jade’s eyes you’ve never been prettier. >w< if grinding against his arm is what wifey wants, it’s what wifey will get!!! Anything for his darling. You can and will get away with everything. He’s weak. An absolute loser in the sweetest of ways.

[acesartemis]

@118dailydrabble prompt -> confess ↳ eddie & tommy in take #287494939 of the BT breakup 😆

“I gotta confess, your stupid idea of breaking up with Buck coinciding with my new resolution to choose joy is killing me,” Eddie grouses from the mat he plopped down on after pouring his bottle of water over his sweaty head. “His Snickerdoodles are like crack, dude, I can’t stop eating them and he knows it.”

Eddie’s sure he can hear Tommy’s teeth grind across the room where he's unwrapping his hands from their boxing session.

“What gave you that bright idea anyway?”

“Eddie, just drop it, okay? He deserves—”

That causes Eddie to swiftly bounce up to his feet and cross over to Tommy. “Bullshit, man! Take it from me—stop denying yourself happiness. Talk to him already!”

[bluemerakis]

Drabble: Mean!Billy loves grinding fem!reader on his thigh

Word count: 0.8k

A/n: I get late night bitch-in-heat thoughts okay

[18+ ONLY]

Billy’s grip on your hips were relentless—thickset fingers contorting your tender skin until the flesh memorialised the shape of his hands with reddened blotches. The twinge of his nails set off some primal response within your body, a biological plea to flee the grasp of his talons, but the knot in your core kept you grounded against the bulk of his thigh.

Your clit rode repetitive rounds across the length of his jean-clad leg, the trail well marked with the juices he’d been coercing from your depths for the last hour, at least. He loved wearing you down this way—loved wringing the sense from your grasp as you came completely undone at his will, over and over and over again—a puppet stuffed with the mean movements of his thigh wedged between your yearning folds.

Each time you found yourself back in this position, you’d be nothing but a blabbering mess after the second or third induced high, the euphoria so entangled with the cognitive ability of your brain that you were left dumb and disposable at his exploiting fingertips—and a man like Billy Butcher had an unflattering tendency to help himself to more than his rightful fill.

“Fuuuckin’ hell,” he drawled gruffly, rough eyebrows knit together as he admired the fresh, slimy trail overlaying the countless pathways you’d ploughed into his jeans only minutes before. “Yer gonna sue me? Got tha’ cunt workin’ bloody hard and well into overtime. She achin’ yet—doin’ yer ear in ‘bout how unfair all o’ this shite is? Fuckin’ diabolical—this cunt o’ yers. I done milked ‘er dry for the last bloody ‘our, and still she keeps on deliverin’ me more,” he mumbled distractedly, all his efforts imbued into his steering of your hips.

Your head buckled with exhaustion, your tongue nothing more than an incompetent ornament each time Billy forcibly ground you against him in this brutal manner. It was a regular practice of his—a power trip of some sort that you knew he got off on because it was the only way he could have you gobsmacked enough to lay a couple on you.

Words had never been lost on a tongue as sharp as yours, and he always enjoyed the banter served up on a gold platter whenever you’d prowl around him during work hours within the compound—in the shared company of the rest of the Boys. But in here, in his apartment—completely and utterly isolated from their prying eyes, you could be considered Kimiko’s fellow mute for all he cared.

If it wasn’t his cock wedged half way into the warmth of your throat that throttled your wit, it was surely one or the other manipulations he’d perfected on your clit.

“Not such a prattler now, are we, eh?” He groused into your ear as you collapsed against his chest, exhaustion seizing all voluntary movement of your hips—but Billy would force the momentum, anyways, pawing at the skin and pressing you harder against him until your core imploded for the thousandth time.

Your hands furled around the fabric of his shirt, where they squeezed tightly as some pitiful act of defiance to antagonise his degradation—but only breathless gasps fled your lips, and your eyes could barely manage to comprehend the patterns of his shirt that you’d come to memorise within such short time of knowing him.

“Atta girl, doin’ so good,” he murmured into the crown of your head, chin resting onto the support of your collapsed frame. “I’ll let yer off after this last one—promise—just make it a good last one f’me, yeah? Can yer do that for me, Love?”

You stilled against his chest, some petty part within you not so willing to submit to him completely, but the way his hand slid across the curve of your ass to deliver a squeeze and then a harsh clap was enough to coax a whimper of surrender from your stubborn depths.

“You forget, Love, I’ve made me a mental manual on yer body by now—I know just which buttons to press to get ya all muddled up on me lap,” Billy husked against your ear, then stole a gentle nibble of your ear lobe. “Now, brave that poncy l’il clit o’ yers—this finish’ll be a bloody hurrah to behold.”

The friction against your clit built up to an unbearable burn as Billy raked you across his thigh, the pace so brutal that your sensitive extremities felt as though they were being skimmed across hot tarmac. The stimulation was so painfully—yet pleasurably overwhelming that you couldn’t help the pathetic moans spewing from your parted lips, fingers curling deeper into the hold on his shirt.

“Tha’s it,” he husked into your hair, his lips then trailing down your forehead to place an encouraging kiss on the sweat-covered skin. “Tha’s it,” he repeated more steadily—proudly, chin tilting down to where you released the last of your pleasure onto his jean. “Helluva finish, Love,” he remarked with a chuckle, that trademark grin settling onto his lips as he lifted his attention back to you. “Cunt’s nearly as expressive as you—and I do love me a feminist tag-team.”

I just wanted to flex my fingers with something dirty hehehe enjoy it my butcher sluts. The getaway house oneshot is coming soon I promise!!

Masterlist

Tags: @violent-darkness @bohemianblasphemy @babyfri3dric3 @internetitgirl17 @dwinchesterspie1967 @gibson-g1rl

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 24 all chapters

WARNING: NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT, YANDERE SH!T. Plz take care. I luv u all. 😘

-It always takes you a little while to shake off the haze when you wake. However, this morning, you are instantly aware that you are being filled. You try to move, but unyielding arms tighten around you, holding you fast. “Good morning, beautiful,” John greets with the gravel of sleep in his throat, nuzzling at the shell of your ear with his nose.

Stuffed full with his morning wood, your pussy pulses around his thick, velvety hard flesh inside you. You make a sound, not sure if you are whining for mercy, or more.

“John…”

“I woke up to this sweet, wet little hole just begging for my cock,” he grumbles in your ear.

Yet, he does not move, and it is driving you mad.

Of course you went to bed wet, because your body has not been allowed any form of reprieve, no chance to regroup or recover. You feel like you’ve been living in this agony for ages.

You strain against him, hungry to feel him move inside you. To feel him do something besides just fill you quietly, taunting you with his glorious girth.

“Want to do something about it?” you grouse, trying to move your hips against him, but you don’t have the right leverage at all.

“Maybe.” He kisses the back of your neck, his lips like a brand upon your skin. “I feel like you pulled a trick on me last night.”

“Gave you a blowjob and put you to bed? Behold, my nefarious scheme…”

You feel the rumble of his laughter in his chest pressed against your back.  “Hmm. Little witch. Be still. I don’t think I’m ready to wake up yet. Want to stay like this for a while…”

The keening sound of frustration that escapes you is barely human.

“Unless there’s something you’d like to say to me? Otherwise, you can just…keep this warm.”

You breathe in through your nose, and out through your mouth, determined not to let him win. You lay very still….but there is no pretending there is not a big dick deep inside your weeping cunt. You whine again, and he kisses your neck this time.

“You know the magic words, kitten.”

Say you’re mine.

“Don’t you know torture yields unreliable intelligence?”

“Hmm. Not in my experience.” 

You pause as you realize he used to work for the Russian mafiya, and he probably really has pulled out someone's fingernails or some shit before. 

He reads the way you pause, sensing the change. 

“It was never really my forte,” he tries to explain away. “I didn't have the patience.” 

That, you almost believe. 

He remains still inside you, the seconds ticking away in heartbeats. Your body betrays you, just fucking refusing to settle down. He teases you until you could almost scream.

You squeeze your inner muscles as hard as you can, winning a strained groan from behind you. “Those are some fucking kegels you’ve got there, kid.”

“They feel even better if you move.”

“Hmm.”

His hand trails down, dipping into your curls, exploring your slit while avoiding your clit all the while. “So wet for me. I’d like to make you cum, kitten. I’ve been thinking about it for a long time.”

“Be my guest,” you grind out between gritted teeth.  

God, if he would just give you one hard touch on your clit you think you will explode. You are that turned on. You have never felt anything like this before, with anyone. And it’s not just that no one ever thought to treat you this way. It’s…him. You know it’s him, your feelings for him, your chemistry together that could burn down the world, if he would stop being so fucking weird about this mine thing.

Because you are not a thing to be owned. You are not a sofa, or a set of dishes. You belong to no one but yourself.

He does touch your clit then, just a feather light caress with the tip of his finger.

You do scream, and he swallows the sound with his mouth on yours. Suddenly you are flipped on your belly, your ass in the air with his cock buried inside you. He gives your round rear-end a smack that makes you jump. It doesn’t really hurt you, but it stings. Your reaction makes him groan, his fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise.  

“Do you know how many times I thought about ambushing you in the early morning in the coffee house, when it was still dark outside, and no one was there but you?” he asks as he withdraws, hovering so just his tip kisses your entrance. “I watched you fuss around behind the counter, listening to your music, oblivious to me. I fantasized about grabbing you up and ruining you on the countertop to the smell of the first pot of vanilla roast brewing.”

You blink, not sure where this is coming from at a time like this.

He was watching you. The whole time, he was watching. It should freak you out more than it does, but after everything that’s happened…the thought just inspires an uneasy warmth in to spread in your belly.

“I usually kept the doors locked before opening,” you offer weakly.

He snorts at that. “Wouldn’t have stopped me from getting to you.” He drives himself inside you, and you cannot help but flinch, your face shoved into the pillow. He is kinder with his next thrusts, but no less determined. “Cum with me, baby,” he demands again. “You’ve always been mine. Before you even knew it, you belonged to me.”

You want to. God, do you want to, but you’re not willing to pay this devil’s price for it. You are so grateful for the surge of anger that swells in your breast.

“You’re just a bully,” you snarl. “Maybe you’re bigger than me and meaner than me, and you can keep me here as long as you want, but that doesn’t mean you own me. I’m not a fucking coffee maker or a couch or a stereo. The only way you’ll ever truly own a piece of my heart is to have the courage to ask for it openly, with the freedom to let me stay or leave.”

He freezes, his cock buried inside you to the hilt, his fingertips digging into your hips. “Is there a chance in hell you would stay with me, after what you’ve seen?” After what I’ve done to you? hangs unsaid in the air.

Your pause is too long, and you know you fucked up by not answering him immediately. This would have been a great time to tell him a lie. You guess he’s conditioned you against it though. You’ll tell him the truth, even if it hurts you.

“That’s what I thought,” he snarls, and with three thrusts he finishes savagely inside you.

There is no snuggling afterwards. He leaves you cold and alone in the big bed, retreating to the bathroom with a slam of the door.

For the umpteenth time you think to yourself, you are so fucked.

_______________

20 points to your House if you spotted the Jane Eyre reference...🥰

[blindmagdalena]

How It Feels to Chew 5 Gum

Summary: 18+ 3.6k homelander x reader, established relationship, gn reader w/pussy, eager brat reader, domlander, slurs, degradation, rough sex, zero refraction period, spit kink, come play, anal, unprotected sex, dirty talk, blowjob, cunnilingus, fingering, dp (fingers and cock), come/spit as lube, just a lot of spitting, ends soft in aftercare and praise.

While you hadn't meant to irritate Homelnder with the simple act of chewing gum in his proximity, you can't help but be a brat about it when he tells you to spit it out.

It all starts with a stick of gum.

You’re chewing quietly. Politely. Mouth closed, absent and slow. It helps you focus.

It does precisely the opposite for Homelander.

“Would you spit that out already? Disgusting habit,” he grouses from his seat, shooting you a withering sidelong look. The two of you are sharing an office at home today, something you didn’t expect to be an issue.

You quirk a brow at him, and then look back to your computer. You hadn’t intended to be annoying. Now you intend to be annoying. You begin smacking your lips as you chew the gum, pushing it from one side of your mouth to the other with your tongue, never taking your eyes off your screen.

This lasts for all of six seconds before Homelander pushes his chair out, the legs of it making a horrible screech of protest against the hardwood floor. He stands with a flourish of his cape, and  marches towards you like a man on a warpath. A crimson clad glove appears in your face, his palm upturned, fingers splayed. “Spit it out.”

You grin, still smacking that gum as loudly as you can manage. “Make me.”

Faster than you can process it, Homelander grabs hold of your chin with his other hand, squeezing your jaw tight enough to straddle the line of pain. “You’re going to regret saying that.”

“I sincerely doubt that,” you shoot back. It’s incredible, you can actually see his eye twitching with each smack of the gum.

“Suit yourself,” he responds. The next thing you know, the hand splayed in front of you moves in a blur of red, and he’s shoving two fingers into your mouth, abruptly halting your chewing. You make an indignant noise, but he’s wholly unbothered by it, pushing the taste of leather onto your tongue. He focuses on spreading his fingers in your mouth, blocking your teeth from closing, until he manages to pinch the piece of gum between his middle and index finger.

He snorts triumphantly as he pulls the gum out, tendrils of saliva stretching from your mouth to his finger before inevitably snapping. He rolls the chewed gum into a ball, and then flicks it. It hits the opposite wall with enough velocity that the thunk it makes startles you.

“Honestly. Disgusting.” Looking back down at you, Homelander maintains his iron grip on your jaw. “Are you really that desperate to keep your mouth occupied?”

You’re breathing shallowly now, your mouth abruptly much drier. “Maybe I am,” you answer breathlessly, shifting in your seat. Homelander’s gaze flickers down, catching the way you grind down against it when you do. You aren’t subtle about it. Recognition lights up in his eyes as they return to yours. “You got an alternative? Otherwise…” You lick your lips. “I’ve got a whole pack of gum in my bag.”

“No,” he says, relinquishing his hold on your jaw. “If I have to listen to your mouth work, it’s going to be working for me.”

The hiss of his zipper is music to your ears. You make a play at pushing your chair back, but he catches you by the back of your head. “Don’t fucking move,” he says, voice heavy with it. You know he can hear your heart hammering in your chest, the throb of your clit, and more than that, the smell of your arousal soaking your underwear. You know it by the hunger in his eyes. “Open your mouth.” “Make-”

You don’t get the chance. The second your lips part to say it, Homelander shoves the fat head of his cock between your lips, his precome smearing salty-sweet along your tongue. Your eyes flicker, rolling back briefly. Your moan is shameless, muffled by the way he shoves in too deep too fast, bumping the back of your throat hard enough that you gag.

“Mouth’s dry,” he grumbles, voice caught in that same petulant, grumpy tone that makes you love teasing him so much. “Wasted your spit on that goddamn gum.”

Sharply, he withdraws, leaving you panting. The hand at the back of your head turns into a fist full of your hair, and he tugs your neck back into an arch. While you’re still sucking in breaths, he sneers down at you. “Lucky for you, I’m feeling generous.”

Your whole world is rocked when he spits directly into your mouth, the wet of it landing directly on your tongue. Before you can think to do or say anything about it, he shoves your head back down and slips his cock right back in, wringing a depraved moan right from the back of your throat.

“Christ, listen to you,” he sighs, holding your head in both hands now, rocking back and forth, fucking your mouth in earnest. “Needed this so bad, you had to make a whole big show about it. Who knew you were such a cockslut.” 

Your moans turn pitchy, just as needy as he says you are. Ever since he learned you get off on this, the degradation and the game of it all, he’s been an absolute menace. In his eagerness to please you, he becomes a filthy fucking animal for you.

“C’mon, suck,” he hisses, tightening his grip on your hair. “Don’t get lazy now. If you want to be a little whore, you’re gonna need to put that mouth to work.”

Hollowing your cheeks, you do precisely as he tells you to. You suck him down with as much force as you can, knowing it will never be enough for him. Nothing ever will be. No matter how much he takes from you, you know that he will always want for more. You start to rock yourself, grinding your aching cunt down against the chair.

Moving his hand from your hair to your neck, he cups your throat in his palm and shoves you down lower, bringing you perpendicular to his pelvis. Your eyes water as his pace picks up, filling you out with every thrust. You wonder if he can feel himself, if that’s why he has his palm pressed flush to your throat like that, or if it’s just to cut off what little bit of air you were capable of pulling in. Either way, your head is spinning up, up, up into a state of bliss that makes you feel like you’re floating.

“That’s it, fuck. Fuck. See? Knew you were holding out on me. Don’t you fucking swallow, you hear me? I want your mouth as wet as your pussy. Think I don’t see you fucking yourself on that chair? Fucking shameless. Listen to you, bet I could make you come like this. Make you come just from sucking my cock.”

You keen, drool spilling from the corners of your lips, your tongue pressed up tight to the underside of his cock. You’d nod if you could, but he’s holding you so tight by your throat and your hair that all you can do is submit to the frenzied thrust of his hips. Your skin is prickling hot all over, and he’s right, you haven’t stopped grinding against the edge of your seat since he started fucking your mouth.

As if possessed, you mindlessly slip your hand into your pants and start rubbing your clit, wetting your fingers with your own slick, desperate for some relief.

“Greedy slut,” he breathes, voice fraying at the edges. “Not enough for you? Need a cock for every fucking hole, don’t you? Too bad. I’m not sharing. I’ll have to find something else to stuff you with,” he grits out, losing coherent thought, his voice becoming thinner with every word. His breath catches, he groans, and then with a handful more thrusts, he pulls back and comes all over your tongue, tipping your head back to keep it all from spilling out.

Pulling the rest of the way out, Homelander stares down at you, looking dazed. You’re just as out of it, delirious with your own arousal, but you manage to keep his words locked in your mind: don’t swallow. Your mouth is full of a mix of your own drool and his come, and the sight of it is enough to make him smile lopsidedly.

“Look at that. Good for something after all,” he says, touching the side of your face with a tenderness that sings loudly the depth of his affection beneath this wicked little game. “Close your mouth, don’t swallow that. You’re gonna hold that in your mouth while I fuck your pussy full, and then you’re gonna keep hold of that while I fuck your ass. Tonight, your only purpose is to hold my come. Understand?”

With every inch of your body throbbing, you nod, obediently closing your mouth with a soft moan. He hauls you up by your hair, and with a sweep of his arm, completely clears your desk. You make a genuinely startled noise at that, eyes wide as your computer hits the ground with an ominous crack. Homelander doesn’t care. He bends you over it, and roughly yanks your pants down before taking a seat in your chair. He takes two firm handfuls of your ass, and spreads you wide, wringing a low moan from you as he wastes no time lapping at your pussy, dragging his tongue all the way from your clit to your asshole. Your whole body jerks with the hot press of his tongue, but you keep your mouth diligently shut and full.

“Stay still,” he orders, following up with a sharp slap to your ass. Oh, he’s really not playing fair. You drop your head onto the desk and moan unreservedly, encouraging him with it, spreading your legs and trying to fuck yourself back on his tongue every time you feel it.

“Slut,” he says. You can hear the smile in his voice. You smile, too, giggling softly, only for the sound of it to fade off into a come-muffled moan with the return of his tongue. He makes a mess of you with his mouth, wetting your ass and your pussy so thoroughly, you start to feel it drip down your thighs. You have no idea how much of the mess is yours, and how much is his, but you don’t care. It feels fucking amazing.

Homelander sucks your clit, slurping on it so loudly, you can hardly believe this all kicked up over a little gum chewing. Another smart slap to your ass makes your pussy clench. The next thing you know, one of his hands leaves your ass, and you feel the dull probe of two gloved fingers pushing into your cunt. You can’t spread any further for him, but god knows you try, whining around your mouthful of his release.

“That’s it. Open up for me, sweetheart,” he sighs, scissoring his fingers when he plunges in deep, and curling them on each slow outward drag. You press your cheek to the cool hard surface of the desk, panting through your nose, desperately fighting the urge to swallow back the load in your mouth. The addition of a third finger has your knees shaking. The wet squelch of his fingers pumping in and out of you completely fills the room, making the sudden quiet of it when he stops almost deafening. Using his thumbs, you feel him spread the lips of your pussy, a heated flush crawling up your chest and face when you hear the appreciative sounds he makes, admiring you.

“Mm, there we go. Gonna fill you right up,” he purrs. Your whole body jerks when you feel him spit directly onto your pussy, the slick of it rolling slowly down to your clit. You grip your desk for dear life, shuddering when you hear the sound of your chair skidding backwards as he stands. Homelander puts his hands right back on your ass and holds you firmly in place for the first sweet, aching push of the fat head of his cock.

“Don’t fucking move,” he grits out. He still sounds sensitive from the first round, but it doesn’t stop him. “You don’t fucking move. You’ll take exactly what I… ffffucking give you,” he groans, sliding all the way into you in one smooth, firm push. He feels so good splitting you open, it almost hurts, your clit throbbing wildly. You want him to touch it, you want to touch it, but you don’t move. You keep your white knuckle grip on the desk and moan as prettily as you can for him. 

Blissfully, he starts to fuck you in earnest, hands moving to your hips so that he can yank you back onto every sharp thrust, ragdolling you like an inanimate toy, using you. His strength makes the feel of it unreal, makes your teeth clatter, the clap of skin against skin obscenely loud and so fucking good.

“There we go, happy now? So fucking needy,” he says, exhaling the words roughly. “Only cooperate when you’re full of cock. Goddamn brat,” he calls you, punctuating each word with a deep, hard thrust. You nearly lose yourself, almost moan aloud and spill the mess in your mouth down your chin, but stubbornly, you hold onto it.

He moves one hand from your hip, you hear a wet pop, and then feel a new pressure: his thumb to your rim, pressing in slow, spit-slick circles before it sinks in, wringing a startled, low moan from the back of your throat. He’s fucking you so good, working you open from every angle, you feel like you’re going to pass out, struggling to breathe from just your nose.

“Jesus fucking Christ, take me so easy, don’t you? Not a hole on you that won’t suck me in. Can’t talk, so your whole body begs for you,” he says, sinking his thumb in deep while he fucks your pussy. Another spit makes you jolt, more saliva being pushed in from your rim. You could sob with it, your clit throbbing so hard it hurts while he fucks you onto your tiptoes with each thrust, the desk rattling so much he has to move his hand from your hip just to hold it in place. “That’s it, that’s it, moan for me, sweetheart. Wanna hear you with my come on your tongue,” he says, thrusting deeper yet, groaning. “Come on my cock. Clamp down on me. Show me what a good little cockslut pussy you’ve got.”

His words wholly unravel you. You close your lips tight and very nearly scream behind the gag of your full mouth, gritting your teeth as your whole body seizes up with the calamitous wave of your orgasm. His cock feels bigger inside you with how intensely it hits you, walls spasming around him in wave after wave of euphoric release. You hear it steal his breath away, a choked off noise as he slams into you one last time. The rush of heat that floods you with his release is burning hot, and you can feel every last throb of his cock as your own quivering pussy milks him of each and every drop of his own orgasm.

You barely have time to process the aftershocks of your climax before Homelander’s withdrawing both his cock and his thumb, and flipping you over onto your back, hitching your legs over his hips. You can feel the mess of his come spilling out of you, dripping down to your ass before he abruptly pushes in three fingers, stifling the flow and wringing a surprised little chirp out of you.

“Clench,” he demands, voice ragged and low. “Don’t you waste a fucking drop,” he says, though it’s a little late for that. The wet mess of it has already made it to your ass, where you can now feel the probing push of his slick cock. You listen, clamping your cunt down around his fingers, giving a shivering moan as you slip and swallow a portion of what’s in your mouth, almost choking on it. You feel delirious with pleasure.

“I heard that,” he says. “You’re fucking lucky I gave you so much to work with.” You look at him, and see your own fervent desire mirrored back at you in his eyes. He looks wrecked with it, his own breaths shallow. You know he’s doing this for you, talking like this for you, and you know it’s your pleasure that drives him to such insanity. Your clit throbs with it, almost painful after the intensity of your orgasm.

With his fingers deep in your pussy, he pushes slowly into your ass, fucking once more into the soaked mess he’s made of your body. He moves slower here, gives you more time to adjust, but all you want is for him to really fuck you again. No matter how tightly you clench around his fingers, you can feel more of his come spilling out of you, dripping over his cock as it splits you open.

You reach between your legs and grab his wrist just to touch him, to brace yourself against the building pressure, fully overwhelmed by each and every sensation: his fingers in your cunt, the salty fill of his come in your mouth, and the agonizingly good ache of him plunging deeper and deeper inside you. Bending over you, Homelander takes hold of your jaw, and smiles wickedly. “Let’s see how you taste.” He kisses you, prying your stubbornly held lips apart with his tongue. You relent, opening up and giving a blissed out sigh as he ravages the taste of himself from your mouth, come and drool dribbling from the sides of your mouth. It’s more depraved than you knew sex could be, and yet all you want is more.

“Fucking delicious,” he growls, using his grip on your jaw to snap your mouth back shut. He covers your mouth with his palm, holds you down like that while he starts to fuck you with both his fingers and his cock. “Fuck, fuck, you don’t even know how good you are, do you? Too fucking desperate to be degraded, to be used. That’s fine, that’s fucking fine by me. I’ll use you. I’ll fucking ruin you,” he says, snapping his hips sharply. You cry out against his palm, eyes rolling back. “You’ll never get this from anyone else. Understand? Your mouth, your pussy, your ass, you fucking belong to me.”

Staking his claim, glorifying and sullying you in one fell swoop. You know that he’s right. Not only would he never let you go, but you would never let him. You want this more than anything, to be his inside and out, to be forever tainted by the ruination of his love. You would rather be destroyed by him than salvaged by any other.

You come again, eyes screwed shut. Your whole body arches into a curve, and you swear the desk cracks beneath you as Homelander gives one last thrust before spilling into you for a third time, filling the empty spaces inside you like liquid gold into cracked porcelain. Your breaths are harsh and tonal, sucking air in through your nose in desperate pulls.

Homelander lifts his hand from your lips, and replaces it with his own, kissing you softly, soothing your frenzied breaths. “Swallow,” he murmurs against your lips. You do so instantly, gasping as soon as you have the capacity to. He gives you the time to breathe, easing his fingers from your quivering cunt. He brings them to his mouth, which you smell before you see, and one at a time, he sucks each finger clean, smiling lazily around them, moaning at the flavor of you on them. You laugh breathlessly, barely finding the strength to take hold of his face and pull him back down into a kiss, savoring your shared flavors as they mingle on your tongues. You take the time to recover, to recalibrate your senses while you luxuriate in the full feeling of him inside you, warm and so wholly yours. 

Homelander nuzzles into the crook of your neck like an overgrown cat. You think he’d be purring if he could. “Too much?” He asks, playfully giving one of your limp wrists a little shake. You can tell there’s genuine concern behind the play: he’s always worried about pushing you too far.

“No,” you answer, that simple word alone slurred. You both laugh at that. “No, was… Good. Mmmm… You do good.”

“I do good?” He echoes slyly, clearly as amused as he is pleased by your lack of coherence. You can already see it going straight to his ego, though you don’t mind. Despite the facade he puts on for the world, you’re the only one who really knows how much he needs these little assurances.

“Mmmmhm,” you hum, smiling. “You do good.”

“Good,” he says softly, eyes soft, lips slanted in a deeply content smile. After a while, he helps you adjust, slipping out of you, and you both work slowly on putting yourselves back together, never going far from one another. You’re both a mess, as are your clothes, but that can wait. Intimacy can’t. He settles down into your chair, and you slide into his lap, wrapping your arms around him. He has a talent for making any and every spot and position comfortable, allowing you to drape yourself on him in whatever way you like. His strength makes it effortless.

Once you’re comfortable, you hear a rustling. You lift your head, and find him rummaging through your bag. Just as you’re about to ask what he’s looking for, he reveals it: a single stick of gum. You stare incredulously as he unpeels it, and pops it into his mouth, smacking his lips obnoxiously as he chews. He lets out a pleased sigh.

“Unbelievable,” you say with a smile, shaking your head with a laugh as you nestle in against his chest. “I love you.”

You can hear his grin in the way he chews the gum alone, but it’s even more prevalent in the earnest way he says, “And I love you.”