#maybe that’s why he’s so fucking dumb

[kamitv]

▷ Seven — Explicit Ver.

Synopsis . JJK men fuckin' you right on Valentines day night. / Pairings . (Separate) Toji x f!reader, Nanami x f!reader, Gojo x f!reader, Choso x f!reader, Sukuna x f!reader, & Ino x f!reader / Content . afab!reader, needy men, slight possessiveness, oral sex (m!receiving), pussy slapping, lots of teasing, handjobs, premature orgasms, subby!gojo (kinda? girl idk), soft dom!choso, lovemaking, bondage (nanami), pet names, spitting, praise, a hint of brat taming here 'n there, non-curse au, dirty talk, filth, fluff (if you squint maybe), overstim, etc. / wc . 9k (whoops lol)

A/N: Happy late Valentine’s day ladies 'n gents, hope you enjoy!! I totally didn’t get distracted by playing lads instead of finishing this. Just pretend this was uploaded on time, yeah? Thx. [MDNI]

ᡣ𐭩 Toji Fushiguro

“You can handle it, c’monnn,” Your boyfriend–, no, your fiancé (as of today) grunts out to you in between the mean thrusts he’s gifting you with.

Your fingers are busy clawing at the sheets below and you’ve got the prettiest arch for your lover. With your ass perked up in the air and his fat throbbing cock stretching your cunt so messily wide as drool slobs out your mouth and wets up the bed beneath you. You’d been fucked so dumb already and yet there he was still talking you to filth anyway.

Lopsided scared lips curving up into a smug smirk, Toji brings a hand down against the fat of your ass. Grunting, “There ya’ go, jus’ like that doll, handle that fuckin’ cock. Uhuh…”

You were–or, trying to, anyway. He’s almost always rough like this but shit even after years of being with the man, you don’t think you’ll ever get used to the girthy inches of his cock. Hence why your eyes are meeting the back of your skull and you’re babbling soft moans of his name down into the bedding.

“T-Toji,” You mewl sweetly, prompting a mean reel of his toned hips back back back until his sopping tip is left leaving a lewd lil’ kiss against the slit of your cunt. A filthy string of slick droops between the two of you and he tuts. 

“Hm? What’s wrong?” He huffs with a tilt of his head. That large hand of his gives your already hand-marked ass a gentle rub-over while he awaits your shaky reply. Your lashes are busy fluttering and you don’t even continue your statement—instead, you wiggle your hips back, urging for him to push into you again.

It’s then that Toji gets what you want and decides to tease you just a bit more, taking his heavy cock into his hands and moving to tap the head against your left ass cheek. “Whaat?” He utters breathily, almost as if he were mocking you and cooing at you simultaneously, “You want me back inside ya’?”

Nodding dumbly, you just barely angle your head to look back at him and you’re met with his intense hazy verdant gaze. “Mhm,” You grumble to him.

In comes that cocky smile of his and he completely removes his hands from both you and himself, clasping them behind his back for a moment as he redirects his gaze down to what little space remains between his cock and your pulsing hole.

“Heh,” He scoffs shortly and then nods his chin down at the lewdness below him, “Work for it. Lemme see that hand,” Toji directs, to which you hesitate little to shift your hand under your body and in between your legs, fingertips grazing his sensitive balls for half a second before you messily wrap your hand around his cock and tug on him carefully. “Fuuck,” He smiles at your fingers perfectly hugging his throbbing shaft, “That’s a pretty rock I gotcha’, isn’t it?”

Oh, right. How could you have possibly forgotten the reason he’s been acting the way he has all night. You’re engaged now. He proposed earlier that day right after dinner and it was the most romantic thing ever—of course he had you wear that ring for the rest of the night, even while he fucks you stupid.

“Mhmm…” The sound of Toji’s throaty hum makes your cunt shiver in pure need. You carefully angle his cock toward your pussy and catch a glimpse of him drooling a little before he swipes his tongue over his lips and pulls his lower one in between his teeth. Voice dipping an octave lower, “Keep goin’, guide me to her.”

Shifting your knees backwards against the bed and closing the distance between his length and you, you decide only to get back at him for a few seconds and purposefully swipe his angry cockhead up ‘n down against your slobbering folds. You watch the way his eyebrows twist up and his lips part softly, a breathy sound dangerously close to a whine falling from his dampened mouth.

“Don’t do that, baby, Toji whispers, quickly moving his beefy hands to your hips and pushing himself forward. “Y’know how much I hate bein’...” His jaw falls open as you interrupt his sentence by merely pulling his cock an inch inside you, “...T-Teased-, shit.”

You continue on like that for a while, fucking yourself solely on his plump cockhead and getting drunk off the feeling. Not to mention the heavy grunts Toji releases as you keep control. His eyes are so greedy on you and he simply can't get enough.

Your sappy walls hug the ridges of his cock so snug that it makes his breath grow heavier by the second even though he's not fully inside you. “Fuck." Your fiancé muttered, "Look at you, all perfect jus’ f’me.”

You're slow to retract your hand and focus all your movement into your hips, feeling him give you a lazy roll forward as his cock slots back into your cunt in one slippery motion. Letting off a moan of his name once he casually reaches the hilt of your pussy, “Toji..”

He swallows down whatever pathetic noise had been on the verge of escaping his throat and gives your hips a tender squeeze, “Hmm?”

You forget why exactly you called his name for a hot second due to the way he picks up this slow but deep pace with you—a complete contrast to earlier. Your face turns into the bed for a moment and you whine, “Hnngh…" Lips parting hotly against the sheets, you eventually manage out a muffled, "'Love you."

His cock throbs inside you and you gasp at the way he snaps his hips forward unintentionally, moving his palms to the bed at your sides and leaning down to you, “You love me?” Toji taunts, earning a cute nod of your head. “Yeahhh? Go on, show me then. Show me how much you love this cock right now,” His hand slithers under you and you feel his weight press against you, deepening the aching inches inside you whilst his thick calloused fingertips meet your clit.

He doesn't even have to clarify what he means by that because you're making the filthiest mess around his cock for the nth time of that night and he's smiling over you, “Uhuh. Juuus’ like that, pretty.”

A pitched sound leaves you but you manage to find yourself again somewhere within your high, lifting your head and huffing, “S-Say it back,” Before glancing to him and shooting him a glare, accompanied with the same pout he think he fell in love with, “...A-Asshole.”

Toji rolls his eyes profoundly at that but he smiles, “Yeah, yeah, love you too, brat.” Then you feel yourself collapsing into the mattress as he leans all the way down to your ear, presses a haste kiss against your skin, and then whispers, “Can’t wait t’marry you.”

ᡣ𐭩 Nanami Kento

It's Valentine's day night and yet there you were still having to beg your husband of many years for something. Moaning, “Ken' please.” While you flash your best pleading eyes and stare up at the man.

Ever the gentleman, Nanami merely smiles at you as if he were confused, “Please, what, my love?"

Your brows twist up and you bat your eyelashes at him, glancing down to watch the way he rudely slaps his heavy cock against your cunt again, “Stop teasin’.”

Your overly handsome husband has the audacity to smile at your sudden command, “Oh? But look at you now," He says in that gentle baritone that makes your cunt clenching around nothing, "You’re drooling for me..."

You wanted to say something else, y'know, argue and beg with him more to convince him to just fuck you already but when he lifts his cock away from your pussy entirely, all you can do is let out a pathetic whine. The sound prompt a slight spurt of precum from his tip but just to make things a lil' messier, Nanami brings his free hand up to his mouth and your eyes widen as you watch him.

Now, you've always known that your man was a gentleman during the day and a complete freak at night but god does he never fail to make your breath hitch. You watch him with glossy eyes as he spits a wad of saliva onto his finger tips, bring them down to his cockhead, smears the liquid messily over his tip, faintly moans, and then gently thrusts himself right up against your clit.

With a nasty slip against you, Nanami is left panting. His cheeks are flush with a warm shade of pink and you can feel your entire body heating up more and more by the second as he continues to tease you to tears.

You thought he'd stop there and give you what you wanted but no, the moment you moan out his name, he grows the desire to drag all this teasing out even further. Dragging his cock back against your heat and smearing his pre all over your sloppy folds, Nanami groans.

"My gorgeous girl," He murmurs to you. Though, you're not sure if it was to you or your cunt. You believe it's the later as he takes his unoccupied hand and uses his thumb and index to spread the lips of your pussy open—following this action up with another lift and mean slap of his cock, a slick wet sound entering the air as he does so.

Your back arches up a little at that and it becomes apparent to you for the first time in a while since you'd gotten to this point with your husband that, well, he's got your hands tied up over your head. You couldn't reach down and urge is cock inside you even if you wanted to (despite the bondage being your idea).

So, there you are, legs spread open like some slut-, his slut, panting and huffing at how badly you're aching for him to be inside you. Your cunt tensing around nothing with every heavy thwack of his cock and wad of spit he dribbles down onto the filthy exposure.

It's not until Nanami rolls his dripping tip around your clit in taunting circles that you start genuinely losing your mind. Your hands squirm to move at the sensation and your husband remains almost as composed as ever while watching your face twist up into pleasure. Your lashes are batting and you're releasing a soft string of moans, whispering his name, and lifting your hips in desperation.

To which he simply presses a hand down to your hip and pins you to the bed. Then he stares dead into those loving eyes of yours and starts swatting his cock head left 'n right against your twitching clit. Oh now he's just being mean.

You start pouting and open your mouth to say something, only to be cut off by a clear moan bubbling out your throat as Nanami drags his cock down, fucks himself into his fist against you, and plunges only the tip in and out and in and out of you.

"Ken please," You repeat, "Just put it in."

"I am, aren't I?" Nanami hums with a kind smile on his face.

"All of it," You grunt, trying to lifting your hips again but failing as he shoves you right back down.

Scoffing, "My wife's demanding today, isn't she?"

"You've been doing this for hours," You bite back with a bratty eye roll.

"Oh please, now she's just being dramatic. What do you say, hun?" He redirects to ask your cunt, "Think I just give her what she wants?" His cock rubs right in between your folds and you can feel the veins decorating his length throbbing. "Should I stuff you full already?"

The lack of attention to you (in a way) makes you frown, "Kento—"

"Don't be rude, sweetheart." He cuts off sharply and sternly.

You grumble something under your breath and that earns Nanami's fawn brown eyes back onto your face. It's almost intimidating the way he looks at you, a gentle glare, like he dares you to repeat yourself. Spoiler alert, you don't. If anything, you swallow thickly and wonder what's going on in his mind as to why he's staring at you so hard all of a sudden-

Nanami cuts every thought you were having off with one sharp thrust into your cunt, a nasty squelch echoing into the air along with a hitched breath from his throat. He then slumps down against you, pressing his hard chest against the softness of your own, moving his lips purposefully to the crown of your ear and tugging a bit of your skin in between his teeth.

Your arms jerk against the restrictions fastened around your wrist as the reflex to wrap them around his neck and claw at his back kick in.

Nanami drags his hips back and the next thrust into you makes you choke out a moan right into the sex-enduced air. Your body was so so hot against his, that's why he liked teasing you so much beforehand. Sure, he could've gotten you this worked up with his voice alone but, where's the fun in that?

And as for his voice that he knows you love so much, Nanami intentionally presses his mouth against your ear and groans your name deeply. You throb so prettily around him that it makes his lips curve into a knowing smile, "I missed you.” He says into your ear.

Nanami's hands find your legs and he grips onto your plush skin firmly with those hardworking palms of his, parting you a bit wider for himself before picking up his pace.

"K-Kento, fuck!" You gasp as he angles precisely into you.

Growling hotly into your skin, “Agh, I know, I know," Nanami coos. He shifts his hips only a little and zones into that same area inside you, feeling your lips quiver around the girth of his cock, "That’s the spot, isn’t it?”

You're a bit too busy losing your mind beneath him, having already reached your orgasm the moment he slid into you and now being fucked into an embarrassing state of overstimulation. 'Guess that's where all that teasing landed you—and you have the nerve to wonder why he does it.

Chuckling at you as if he's not seconds away from stuffing you full of gooey ropes of cum, “So sensitive.” Nanami teases. He then leans up and allows his eyes to fall on your expression. You were a mess, a few tears were slipping down your cheeks, your eyes kept flickering back, and a spot of drool was spilling out the corner of your lips.

“And look at this face,” Nanami's quick to bring attention to it, to which you whine and try turning your head away from him out of embarrassment. He's been down this road with you time and time again so, all he does is bring a hand to your jaw and force you to look at him.

Inching closer to you and pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek, “You look so beautiful taking all of me like this," He praises, tongue darting out to lap up the few tears you had decorating that pretty face of yours. He was so infatuated with you. "Hear me?" Nanami utters.

You manage a messy fucked-out nod but that's simply not enough for this husband of yours. No, he's a greedy man when it comes to you.

So, Nanami moves his lips over yours and sears his words right into your mouth, "Say it," He tells you, "Tell me how beautiful my wife is."

With a strong gripping clench around his cock at that, you struggle to maintain eye contact with him during this moment of intimacy and the words come fumbling out of your mouth, "Ken..."

"Tell me," He says in a gentler tone, "Please?"

"S-So beautiful," You whimper. You're so embarrassed as you say that out loud to him but, even so, your body is feeling a bit more confident than before. Leading to your legs wrapping around his toned waist and locking him into this position with you—even though you can't verbalize it, you can physically be that confident wife he loves so much.

Which is exactly why Nanami mashes his lips onto yours once you do that and starts fucking you into the bed, groaning, grunting, growling into your mouth as his tongue sloppily meets yours.

After all, what kind of man would he be if he didn't make sure you understood how gorgeous you are on Valentine's day of all days? Which is why the remainder of the night is spent with him asking telling you to compliment yourself.

ᡣ𐭩 Gojo Satoru

Oh he’s definitely surprising you with his cock on full display for you. After spending the entire week showering you with gifts and a new surprise each day, how could he not save the best gift for the night of?

“What’s with that look on your face, do you not like your gift?” Your boyfriend, who’s currently sprawled out against the comfort of your shared mattress, asks you as you stand a few feet away simply baffled.

Blinking, you try to gather the display before you as calmly as possible. “Is this why you rushed out the bathroom like that?” You’d asked in return, referring only to a few minutes prior to this as you and your lover had bathed oh-so-romantically together.

Gojo tries his best to flash an indifferent smile, as if he isn’t utterly embarrassed right now.

You’ve got to be the only women he’d ever present himself to like this—matching bathrobe hanging just barely off of his shoulders as he lays across the bed, body dampened with water that glistens under the soft room lighting, cock exposed and throbbing as it typically does when he’s around you, with a tip that’s just as embarrassed and flushed as the rest of his body is, and a bow wrapped firmly around his base.

You hardly know where to place your eyes. He’d been basically courting you all week and loved on you a bit more than normal (which says a lot in itself because this man is just head over heels for you) just for him to end the day with one last surprise for you; himself.

Crossing your arms right under your chest and taking careful steps closer to him, a smile creeps onto your face, “I can get this anytime of the year, how’s this a gift?” You tease before dipping one knee onto the mattress.

Gojo’s rolling his eyes immediately and a pout tugs at his lower lip, “Well… I put a bow on it,” He practically mumbles out to you.

Your boyfriend really had a knack for being so utterly adorable when he wanted to. Which is exactly why you can’t help but proceed to tease him a little. “I can see that ‘Toru,” You hum softly.

And honestly, who are you to refuse a gift like this? Look at the man, he went 'out of his way' just to put a pretty lil' bow on his cock juuust for you!

Obviously you waste no time in enjoying your gift.

It started out with soft banter, a slow removal of your bathrobe, a sensual approach to him on the bed, and a quick position of yourself in between his legs. Although, it didn't take long for you to clasp your teeth onto the ribbon wrapped around him and then give it an eager tug.

By then, Gojo's breath was already heavy. How could it not be? He's got the best girlfriend a man could ever ask for in between his legs and unwrapping his cock with a hungry look in her eyes—of course he's going to have unsteady breathing.

Especially when you look up at his face as you pull the bow loose and allow it to fall out against his bare thighs. Then you're sending him a teasing wink before bringing your lips to the head of his cock. And oh he was leaking the entire time, cum dripping all down the sides of his lengthy cock before your lips fully met him.

Gojo always found himself to be a weak man in the face of you, no matter what he did, and today was no different.

Your freshly manicured nails are the only thing he can focus on to keep himself from cumming on the spot as your hand wraps around his base and you lull your tongue out to meet the crown of his cock.

Giving him one teasing kitten lick, you sigh, "Has anyone ever told you how pretty you are 'Toru?"

You're trying to kill him, clearly. If his face wasn't flushed before, it damn sure is now. This is the only reason why he tries his best to avoid letting you give him head, he always ends up like this—cheeks as red as ever, cock twitching wildly in your hand before he even enters your mouth, and voice coming out with a faint crack as he tries to respond to you.

"N-No," He responds. There's this pitch in his voice that makes your cunt throb. You never knew Gojo Satoru to have a voice crack like that. You hadn't even done anything yet. He's quick to clear his throat though, "I mean, only you've told me that."

Your plumped, lightly saliva-glossed lips wrap around the tip of his cock and his head immediately flies back. Hah, yeah, he's not lasting too long like this. "Do you like it when I tell you how pretty you are?" You whisper softly.

His blue eyes are fixed up on the ceiling now and as you continue to look up at him, you just watch the violent bob of his adam's apple as he gulps. "'Course I do," Gojo tries to say confidently, "I like anything you tell me, sweets."

"Yeah?" You purr. Ah, shit. Maybe he shouldn't have said that. "Can you look at me, Satoru?" You request softly.

Mhm, he's done for. Not able to tell you no or ignore your gentle request, Gojo forces himself to tip his head back into place and look down at you. Cum starts dribbling out from his tip again but that's not what makes him lose his mind, no.

What really gets him is the way you stick your tongue out and make him watch his cock slot into your mouth. Saliva spills past your lips and wets up the rest of his length that your mouth doesn't reach, in which you spread around with your hand as you rotate your palm against his shaft.

He can't help the full body reaction that invokes. He almost immediately sits up a bit straighter and moans, "Fuck.. Can you warn me next time before you just—"

His jaw falls slack the moment you pop your mouth off of his cock and start jerking him off with whatever saliva is left lathering his aching length. Snowy white brows twisting up in a mix of pleasure and confusion, Gojo loses his breath as you lean up to his face and meet his lips with a messy kiss.

"Mmgh," He groans against you, moving a shaky hand to your waist as he kisses you back passionately.

When you pry away from him, you grin. "You like anything I tell you, right?"

He nods, "Uhuh..." Gojo's eyes are low on yours and he wonders where exactly you're going with this. He can't think too clearly with the way you're jerking him off but—

You cut his brain off with a sensual whisper near his lips, "What if I told you about how much I like havin' your cock in my mouth?"

He cums. Right then, right there, in your hand, as prematurely as ever. And that, that is exactly why Gojo hates when you give him head. You can't help but look down at the mess your boyfriend's made of himself in your hand. So much came out that it makes you giggle.

And the fact that you've get to stop moving your hand only makes him choke out your name. To which you tune out, too focused on how much cum is still spurting out of his glazed tip. Then you make this face, as if you were satisfied with just that and...

Gojo thinks he falls in love with you all over again. He spent all week catering to you, today especially, and normally he's the one who has you like this by the end of a special night but here he was—pathetically falling for how much you seemed to enjoy seeing him like this.

Seeing him...submissive.

Yeah, but don't worry. This is only a Valentine's day thing. Trust and believe he will be reversing the roles in a moment. Y'know, as soon as you remove your hand from his cock and stop staring at him like you want to devour him whole.

ᡣ𐭩 Choso Kamo

“It’s yours Cho’, take it.”

Did you have any idea what you were even asking for sometimes? 

How could you moan out something like that when he’s mid-stoke and expect him to hold back? Of course his hips are gonna start stuttering against you and he’s gonna thrust his thick cock a bit harder than intended as words stumble out his mouth, “H-Huh?” Choso gasps, dumbfoundedly. “But, I wanted to cater to you tonight..” He pouts.

Even while literally being on top of you, pressing your legs gentle against your chest, and stuffing you full of his rudely curved cock, he still had a way of being so soft ‘n kind to you. A shade of red decorates his cheeks and the tips of his ears and he’s got that lovestruck look in his eyes as he admires you below him.

Sending him the same smile he fell in love with, “You always cater to me, baby. S’okay, I don’t want you to hold back anymore.” You tell him.

Choso swallows thickly and he halts the movement of his hips for a second, leaving his throbbing cock bulging against the walls of your slobbering pussy. “But, Valentine’s day…” He trails off carefully and his brows meet in confliction, “I should be making love to you—”

Your hands move to cup his cheeks into your palms and you giggle, “You make love to me all year long.” Tugging him down and forcing his eyes to focus solely on your own, “Look at me,” You breathe out, feeling his dick twitch inside you. “Tonight… I want you to fuck me.”

“Princess,” Choso grunts, falling forward a little and motioning to kiss you. Part of him wanted to shut your mouth with his own. If you kept talking to him like that, he was gonna act on desires he’s been suppressing for a long time.

You let him kiss you for a couple of seconds but soon pry your lips away with a wet pop, whispering, “I know you want to,” You point out, earning a mean press of his hips and causing his cockhead to greet your sweet spot with the filthiest french kiss, “Ah… A-And you’ve been such a good boyfriend to me, so—”

Choso tugs his hips back and his expression changes immediately. From soft ‘n loving to something more serious, more feral, “Say that again?” He rasps out.

Your eyelashes meet a couple times in shock at his quick change in demeanor but, you don’t hesitate to hum out to him, “You’ve been a good boyfriend to me.”

His eyes get lower and suddenly his voice is growing huskier, “And the other part? What you said before that.” Choso asks, leaning up slightly and letting your hands leave his face.

“I want you to fuck me,” You repeat, confused as to what exactly this is about to earn you.

The last thing that leaves Choso’s kiss-bitten lips is a low curse of, “Shit.”

Maybe it was the first thing you said that threw him off, the whole thing about how it’s his and he should just take it, or maybe it was the look in your eyes, or even those last two statements. He’s been a good boyfriend? You want him to fuck you?? Shit, how the hell is he supposed to function properly after hearing that?

Which is exactly why it doesn’t take him long to do as you’ve asked to and fuck you down into the bed in the meanest mating press. Cock bullying into your soaking cunt, husk groans exiting his throat, and hands all over your body to grab and hold onto any bit of your hot skin he can get to—Choso’s treating your pussy ruder than he ever has before. The nasty squelch that echoes into the air after every thrust, the way you moan his name out sexier than he’s heard you before, and the cute twitch and clench of your cunt around his cock all drive him even crazier.

You find yourself embarrassed by how quickly he makes you cum by acting the way he is and you move your hands to cover your face. Choso’s never felt this way before but the sight of you being too shy to show him your expression while he pounds into you makes him a bit greedier.

“Don’t cover your face,” Choso huffs out, “Lemme see you.” Before you could even move one of your hands away, he wraps his fingers around your wrist and tugs it away from you. You gaze up at him all wide-eyed and lost in pleasure, watching pants leave his lips and the way his hair messily falls over you. Getting a bit rougher with his thrusts and watching your eyes get even wider, “This is how you wanted me, isn’t it?” Choso asks.

You’re quick to shoot your other hand to his chest and your nails claw at his skin as you give him the weakest push, jaw stupidly hanging open with moan after moan sliding out your throat. “C-Choso,” You choke when he makes this specific face—almost as if the sight of you pushing at him for a break made his brain short-circuit.

Pupil dilating and cock pulsing inside you, Choso nibbles on his lower lip for a second to bite back a smile before grunting heavily, “You’re pushin’ me away,” He points out before dropping his weight onto you even more. “S’cute…” Choso huffs thoughtlessly. He’s beyond pussydrunk at this point, and hardly even realizes what’s coming out of his mouth. Groaning, “Ugh, I-I thought you said it was mine? Didn’t you want me to take it like it’s mine?” He sears, “Fuck you like I belong t’ya?”

A whimper flies out of your mouth because he’s only emphasizing his every question with a heavier thrust of his cock, gaze locked onto your own so he can watch the way your eyes roll back in bliss. 

“That’s it,” Choso whispers to you before lifting himself a little, letting go of your wrist, and bringing that calloused hand of his down to the lower half of your tummy. Then he presses his palm down, “Can you feel me right here?”

Slurred together, “M’gonna cum,” Starts pouring from your lips over and over in a faint whiny whisper and your boyfriend simply fucks you right through it.

Smiling, Choso seems to purr his words out, “Yeahh? C’mon then, cum on this cock,” He grunts, speeding up his pace as he feels you gush all around him, “Get it nice ‘nd messy, princess.”

Your eyes are at the back of your skull by that point and your body quakes beneath your boyfriend. You didn’t know his mouth could be so nasty with you—in a verbal sense, anyway. And the way he was staring down at you, soaking up every moan and mewl that left those pretty lips of yours, fuck it made you wonder why you didn’t ask him to do this sooner. 

You’re not sure if he’s ever made you cum that hard before (he has, you’re just a bit too fucked out to remember right now). So, as you come down from your high, he slows himself down, smearing the mix of your cum and the slick that’s been drooling from his tip all against your pulsing walls. Your pants come to a steady halt once you catch your breath and you glance up at him with this dazed look plastered all over your face.

Choso brows furrow and he nuzzles every inch of his cock into you slowly, holding himself back from fucking you into overstimulation, “S-Shit, don’t look at me like that…” He mumbles to you. Aaand just like that he was back to normal, averting his gaze and everything, “Makin’ me nervous..” When his eyes do find yours again, he leans in to engage in an intimate whisper, “Was that too much?”

You fight the urge to use whatever you have left of your stamina to laugh at him. Shaking your head, you palm his cheek again and pull him down to kiss you. Then, you speak in between his lips, “Want you to do it again, Cho’.”

His breath hitches, “O-Oh, you like that?” It takes a second for that to register but when it does, he nods and leans up, confidence returning just like that. “Mh, I’ll keep that in mind for next time. Didn’t think you’d like my mouth to be jus’ as rude as my cock is with you.”

ᡣ𐭩 Sukuna Ryomen

“What a stupid Holiday…” Sukuna grumbles out to you not to long after the two of you had arrived home from a rather romantic date. “This is no different than what we normally do," He scoffs, referring to the way you're propped up on his lap right now.

You flash your boyfriend a sly smile and rock your hips back against the bulge that’s poking up against your cunt, “Yeah, but you’re twitching more than normal, ‘Kuna.”

He kisses his teeth and glances away from you dismissively, his grip on your hips tightening. “You have been depriving me of my needs all week,” Sukuna grunts out as you rub over a particularly sensitive part of his cock.

All these stupid layers in between you and him were driving him insane. He had half a mind to toss you into the back seat ‘n rip the flimsy dress you’re wearing right off but after putting him on a sex ban from the last holiday (Christmas) that he did that… he decides to control himself a bit more on this day.

“The buildup will be worth it,” Your voice sounds weirdly sweeter than normal. It’s almost though every syllable that slips off of your tongue makes his entire body react. It was weird. You were weird.

Scoffing again, “I’m sick of this ‘buildup’ nonsense.” Your boyfriend complains to you again.

Your hands trail up along his broad shoulders and you lean closer to him, breasts grazing his beefy chest as you do so, “Sukuna—”

He’s quick to snap his eyes back onto yours due to the closer proximity and there seems to be a faint softening in those typically hard red eyes of his. “Let me at least touch you,” Sukuna murmurs. You swear you notice his face flicker into something almost needy for a split second but perhaps you imagine it. 

Or at least, you thought you imagined it until your boyfriend leans closer to you and slithers one of his arms around your waist—the other slipping down to sneak beneath the fabric of your dress and meet your bare skin. Then, he stares directly at your lips, “...Please?”

You’re taken aback by the word that just left his lips. Sukuna Ryomen, your boyfriend of two years, begging you for something? Perhaps he hit his head sometime earlier. “Did you just beg?” You chuckle out lightheartedly, not exactly taking him seriously.

Sukuna remains indifferent, as if he said nothing out of the ordinary. “I did,” He hums, dropping his gaze down to your body atop his and squeezing your leg a bit, “Lift your hips, angel.”

You blink. Then, you feel his cock practically jump under you as your next word leaves your lips, “Sukuna are you…” 

Even though you trailed off, he was losing it. You hadn’t let him do anything sexyal with you in weeks and today of all days was more tortuous than any other. The dress you wore to dinner, the red lipstick stains you pressed into his neck before you’d even went out, your scent—fuck, you smell ten times sweeter than normal. Maybe it’s just because it’s been a while but, either way, the simple utterance of his name for a third time in a row makes his body so utterly anxious for you.

“I am aching to touch you,” Sukuna huffs, a hinted groan lying beneath his words as he shifts his face into the crook of your neck and inhales strongly. Then, his fingernails dig into the skin of your thigh and his voice grows rougher, “Lift your fuckin’ hips.” He demands, pausing for a couple seconds to let his eyes fall to the back of his head in reaction to the throb he feels against his precum smothered cockhead. “…Please?” Sukuna whispers.

And that was all it took for you. You never knew him to beg and although it was extremely foreign to hear the first time, you wouldn't exactly ignore how sexy it sounded leaving his lips.

He always demands and sometimes asks—never forces, of course, but never ever begs… until today, that is. So how can you possibly find it in you to deny him any longer?

Slowly, you begin to raise your hips and at that very second, you look down and notice his own rolling upwards as he adjusts himself in his seat. He may have asked you to lift but he didn’t think much about how that meant he wouldn’t be feeling your warm panty-clad cunt against his bulge anymore.

With a throaty grumble, Sukuna rubs the bridge of his nose against the skin of your neck and he moves one of his hands in between your legs, “...Thank you.”

Everything about your body was so so addictive. The way you gasp lightly as he presses his fingers against your flimsy panties that hug your cunt so snuggly, the slight arch in your spine, and the way your hand meets his wrist at the touch all drive him mad with lust.

Sukuna could feel his heart pulsing in his chest in a way that was unusual. He’d never felt such strong waves of need until now.

The pads of his two thick fingers rub right in between your slick folds against your panties and he smirks, “All that talk about ‘buildup’ and yet you were more anxious for this than me.” He points out, feeling the twitch that follows his words.

He slowly tugs that soaked fabric to the side and as soon as his fingers rub against your cunt bare, you gasp again. Maybe you were needier than you’d let on. Sukuna retracts his hand for only a second and brings it to his mouth, pressing them against his lips and letting your slick rest there for a moment before returning his fingers to your dripping hole.

Then, you just barely watch him lick his lips and grunt at the taste right against your neck. Then he kisses you and positions two of his fingers to your entrance, easing them both in seamlessly while trailing his kisses up to your jawline.

Whispering hotly into your skin, “Look at that, took me all the way in only one thrust.” He breathes, drawing his fingers outward steadily and feeling the clench your pussy tries to hold him with, “S’warm in here,” Sukuna moans a little and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him like this before.

Dipping his digits right back into you, your boyfriend works your squelching cunt with ease, soon pressing his thumb against your clit and groaning while you moan over him, “Mmgh, I missed playin’ with her like this. She’s so reactive…”

You were losing your mind just as much as he was, eyes frantically traveling over to his car windows and wondering what someone would think if they passed by and saw this. He didn’t have the darkest tint in the world and even though it was nightfall, a person could gather a erotic idea of what was taking place inside the vehicle rather easily. 

A heavy pant falls from your lips, “Hah, w-we should stop, ‘Kuna. What if someone sees—”

“Who cares? I am celebrating my woman on this ‘special’ day,” He tells you, upping the thrust of his fingers ever so slightly as he lifts his head from your neck and looks at you.

He couldn’t get over how much you were soaking his fingers right now, slick trickling down along his skin, decorating his wrist with pretty filth. Oh, you were everything to him—not that he would ever tell you. Instead, he smiles and curls his fingers deep inside you, “Pleasing her special spots, watching her pretty face twist up, cherishing her… loving her.”

Your legs twitch to clamp together at the sound of that. With glossy parted lips, you flash your boyfriend a dumbfounded look, “D-Did you just say you love me?” You utter as the faintest smile of satisfaction tugs at the corner of your mouth.

Sukuna maintains eyes contact with you and shoves his fingers deeper just to watch you lift your hips a bit as if to escape, “In a way, I suppose I did say that, huh?” He laughs a little and his head tilts to the side when he feels your walls throb around his two fingers, more of your slick gushing past your messily parted folds and wetting him up even more.

“Oh, was that to your liking? What if I say it more directly?” He moves to your right ear and says confidently and heavily with that rough voice of his, “I love you.”

Your face falls forward onto his shoulder and you moan messily into him, thighs tensing, and teeth baring just to bite down on him a little as you’re fingered right over the edge. An almost annoyed groan exits your throat and you find yourself frustrated at how embarrassingly quickly you finished.

Now laughing at you, “That’s all it took for you to cum?” Sukuna teases, pulling his fingers out for a second and leaning back to get a glance at it, “Look at this mess you’ve made, ugh.” He hums, parting his fingers and watching the way your release drips all messily along his skin.

“S’your fault,” You puff out against his shoulder.

His smile widens as if he were proud, “My fault? Hm. I suppose I should take responsibility then, yes?”

You lift your head a little and look down to his lap, knowing exactly what he means by that. Then, your gaze raises to his face and you quirk a soft brow before moving one of your hands to adjust his seat.

Sukuna scoffs lightly and leans back against his steadily reclining seat, cocking his head to the side and eyeing you up and down. When your let-back of his seat comes to a stop and there’s enough space for the two of you to move your limbs more freely, your hands find their place on his chest and you trail down. “You wanna.. in here?” You murmur curiously.

“Mhm, smart girl.” Sukuna praises just as your hands meet his waistline. Then, he looks down and nods his chin to your hands, “Now, unzip me.”

ᡣ𐭩 Ino Takuma

After spending all day loving and clinging to you more than he normally does, Ino practically forgot to do anything remotely sexual with you. It wasn’t exactly a priority for him on this day. Why would it be? All he wanted to do was see his stunning girlfriend keep that pretty smile on her face all day, sex was the very last thing on his mind.

Though… it becomes rather apparent to him while the two of you are cuddling late that same night. It’s about half an hour past eleven, he’s laying big spoon to you with your back pressed against his chest and your ass flush with his crotch—not that he over-sexualized the position, it was simply cuddling. 

It’s not until the show you guys were making fun of switches to a full on passionate sex scene that his eyes ever so naturally shift from the TV and to you laying against him. One of his arms had been idly wrapped around your waist but not even two minutes into the scene and he started moving it. His fingers begin to splay across your stomach and he rubs his palm over the fabric of your shirt for a bit before deciding experimentally angling his head down into your neck and planting a kiss to the side of it.

Just as he dips down, your entire body reacts and you smile. “Takuma?” You whisper whilst his hand creeps to the end of your oversized t-shirt and then slips beneath it so that he can feel on you skin to skin.

Mumbling and trying his best to keep his smile back, “Hm?”

Your head turns back to him and he lifts his mouth away from your neck to meet eyes with you. “Did that scene get you worked up?”

It’s then that it dawns on you for the millionth time that your boyfriend is really just the most delectable man you could’ve ever laid eyes on. Curious brown gaze gleaming down at you as he sits up a little, soft set grin spreading across his face, and voice leaving his throat as gentle as silk, “Not really,” Ino whispers to you. “I jus’ wanna love on you, baby.”

“Yeah?” Your smile widens and he takes that as his sign to lean in and connect his lips with yours. 

It's a tender moment between you two at first. Soft pecks that both of you chase for as the other pulls away ever so slightly carefully turn into something more heated. Ino’s lips lock onto yours firmly and he pushes against you, his hand rising further up under your shirt before his palm meets your breasts and he gives you a gentle squeeze. 

Groaning into your mouth at the simple contact of your hardening nipple to the center of his hand, Ino can’t help the push of his hips against your own. After that, his touches only grow greedier and greedier. Few words are exchanged between the two of you—only grunts, groans, and breathy moans enter the air for a while as you both melt into one another.

You’ve no idea how much time passes before you end up with two of his skillful fingers working the inner depths of your leaking cunt. His breath is now hot against your ear, “So wet… all I did was kiss you a couple of times,” He chuckles playfully.

A whine leaves your throat and you feel his fingers rub eagerly inside you, “I want more.”

Ino gets a little nervous at the sound of that but, he plays it off as if he were still the one in control of the situation, “Aw, is this not enough for you?” he taunts.

You shake your head and move your hand down over his, guiding his fingers deeper into you.

He starts to get the idea but, instead of fingerfucking you like you so clearly want him to, he tugs his digits out and casually cocks a brow, “Hm. So, what do you want then?”

“You know what I want,” You say, groaning at the loss.

Your boyfriend shrugs innocently and a playful smile dawns across his lips before he looks elsewhere, “Maybe, buuut I wanna hear you ask for it.”

Not hesitating one bit, you lean up closer to him and briefly pull his lower lip into your mouth and suck. Ino’s eyes fall down on your movements and you go from sucking on his lip to kissing him fully, to which he folds. And if that wasn’t enough, when your lips do sever from one another, you whisper, “Can you fuck me, Takuma?”

“Hah, anything for you, beautiful,” He whispers, quickly caught off guard as you turn around to face him full and moving your hands down to his sweats, “O-Oh, we’re eager, are we?”

“Want you inside me,” You grumble, hand sinking past his sweatpants and straight into his boxers to tug his hard cock out. 

Ino had let out one last curse in reaction to your eagerness but he damn sure didn’t deny you of anything. It’s not long before you’re lifting one of your legs and he’s stuffing himself inside you as you both continue laying on your sides facing one another. Your leg hooks onto his hip and he ends up with a mean grip onto the underside of your thigh.

Your legs are all intertwined with one another and Ino’s groaning into your neck while he feeds your greedy cunt his cock over and over again, sucking your skin into his mouth, and leaving all sorts of marks on you.

At some point he lets off a moan and feels your pussy grip onto him even tighter than before in reaction, “Like that?” He whispers, taking your next moan as a response, “Uhuh, I can feel it.”

His voice is so caring and attentive with you, despite the constant stretch of his dick past your folds, slick spilling all out your lips and creating the sloppiest mess of wetness where the two of you are connected. His plump cockhead is giving the depths of your cunt the tenderest smooches, obscure sounds leave both your mouth and your pussy with his every thrust into you. 

Catching your expression particularly lewd, Ino tries to bring your attention back to him and not his cock for a second, inching closer to your face just to talk to you, “Did… ah, did you enjoy your day, baby?” 

Just as he says that to you, you feel his cock glide into that one spot that makes you see stars for a moment. Your jaw falls and you just give him a dumb nod, he’s fucks you so unintentionally good that it makes you lose all trains of thought in only a few minutes—and god when he actually puts in some effort? Now, that’s when you start letting out moans loud enough to earn complaints from your neighbors. 

But for now, Ino doesn’t have to do any of that. You’d been secretly worked up from the moment you woke up to breakfast in bed and now that he’s finally giving you want you’ve been craving, you find your body especially sensitive to his every move and word. 

Ino, as oblivious as ever, simply grins at you, “I enjoyed my day too, mhm.” He hums, eyes all over the way you’re falling apart on his cock right now. His hips snap forward a little harder and the arms you have wrapped around his neck grasp on to him more, nails scratching at his back in reaction—which leaves the prettiest bright red marks he’ll be sure to admire later.

You let out an embarrassingly loud moan at the sudden jerk of his hips and try hiding your face. Ino scoffs before pushing your body over. You fall onto your back and he remains on his side, lazily continuing the sloppy fuck of his cock into you. 

“Don’t go gettin’ all shy on me now,” He says with a kind smile, flicking a hand down to thumb at your clit, “That’s my job, remember?” Your back arches up off the bed and you struggle to look at him, “C’mon, keep those pretty eyes on mine. Mhmm, just like that.” He praises.

A gorgeous string of moans leave you as he pushes one of your legs to get you spread apart even further. Which quickly ends up with him positioning himself on top of you and thrusting into you with more eagerness than before. You’re not sure where his sudden urge to press you down against the mattress comes from but he sure as hell starts beating his leaking cockhead right into that spot he knows drives you crazy.

And as if to contrast the abrupt bullying of his throbbing inches into you, he leans his mouth up and kisses your forehead softly. It was as though his next word was a warning in regards to the way he’s about to treat your cunt, “Love you.” Ino whispers.

Yeah, he only says that during sex when he’s either about to cum—which usually consists of those two words being uttered over and over, but one single claim of loving you always leads to your legs parted nice and wide for him so that he can look down and watch his cock disappear inside you.

Which is honestly one of his favorite sights, especially when you let him cum inside you, then he gets the chance to watch the creamy mess struggle to stay in your cunt. What better gift to the two of you on this day than that?

A/N: Join my discord server for sneak peaks on upcoming works & more!

[billthedrake]

LINEAGE (PART TWO)

It was weird being in my doctor's office. Even weirder sitting out in the waiting room while my son Braden was getting the news confirmed. I wondered if the other people there had any idea or could read how much I was hiding my anticipation and excitement. Trying not to get my hopes up TOO much.

Too late for that, though. A week before, Braden had peed on the pregnancy test. I wasn't a water sports guy, and Brade wasn't a water sports guy, but it became our regular weekly ritual. Stepping into the master bathroom and then Braden pulling out his dick to pee on that stick.

It took several months to conceive. It was disappointing, at first. But Braden was the optimistic one. "You got strong swimmers, Dad, I know it. Let's just enjoy the act of making our first kid together."

So we did. Each time we fucked - and that's all we did now and would do now until conception - it was with a purpose. We had the idea of pregnancy in our heads. And we spoke them out loud. We talked about baby names while I slow pumped my raw dad cock in and out of my hot Marine son. We talked about the changes Braden's body would undergo once he got knocked up.

But the thing that drove me wildest, that drove Braden wildest, was the incest. Once either of started talking about how my son was also going to be my grandson, or how I was gonna give Braden a baby brother, how I was gonna fuck his little brother into existence inside of Brade... well, both of us would cum explosively.

Maybe those extra hard cums did the trick. The pregnancy test got a plus sign. It was wild to watch my son's soft cock grow instantly hard at the news. I certainly boned up.

"Bill?" came the doctor's voice as he popped out into the lobby. "Wanna come back?"

Dr. Fiedler was my general practitioner, and had been ever since he took over the practice from his father. He was still young, mid-30s. I had felt self conscious coming to him, but Braden insisted that he felt more comfortable with Fiedler than with some new doctor.

I tried to read the man's expression as he led me back, but he had a poker face. Until we got closer to the door and I saw a smile form on his lips. Hell, yes.

Brade was shirtless on the examining table, sitting up for all of his hunky perfection to see. God, if Fiedler touched my son in any way... get a grip on yourself, Bill, I told myself.

Braden's smile calmed my weird jealous streak. He didn't have a poker face, just pure joy. Already he was putting his T shirt back on, which I kind of regretted. We'd definitely have to fuck when we got home.

Fiedler motioned for me to sit in a chair while he pulled up his rolling desk chair.

"Well, Bill, I've told Braden the news, but he's for sure going to be a father."

"Yeah?" I replied with a beaming smile that I couldn't suppress. "That's incredible... I mean." Catching myself, though not in time.

Fiedler laughed. "It's OK, guys... I think it's beautiful." He looked back and forth between me and Brade. "Why do you think my dad retired early?"

"Shit!" Braden exclaimed with a laugh. "For real?"

Fiedler nodded. Doc was a handsome, cute fucker, I'll give him that. And the fact he'd bred an incest baby was wild to think about. "They've made some real advancements in fertility pills," the doctor said. "I'm sure Braden here doesn't need them."

"It took us a while to conceive," I admitted. Maybe I was concerned and wanted to make sure everything would be OK.

The doctor gave a quick nod. "Yeah, it takes longer with men." He looked over at my son. "Braden's all Y chromosomes, so if the sperm that reaches it is also Y, it won't take."

"So it's going to a boy?" Braden asked excitedly. No one could accuse him of being a dumb jock, though he was committed to researching pregnancy in a way he never got into studying in school.

"It's a boy," Fiedler assured us.

The doctor spent the next fifteen minutes filling us in on the next stages and then pulled out a pad. "Here's an obstetrician I can recommend," he said, writing down a name. "Dad and I used him, so he's sympathetic."

I took the paper. "Um, if you don't mind me asking, Doctor, how many kids have you...."

"Three," Dr. Fiedler answered. "And we're working on number four now." Somehow, the guy could say it in a way that was endearing as it was lewd. He turned to Braden. "Fatherhood's the best, Braden... and nothing like the first time."

***

There were phases. The excitement period over the news. Braden and I fucked at least twice a day. Trying to relive that moment of conception. Getting deeper into our sex talk. Choosing that baby name. I never thought I'd be one of those ego-centric guys who'd name his kid a junior. But once Braden went on about he really wanted our kid to have my name, I got real into the fuck, real into making out Brade, and real into the idea. Our first son was going to be Bill, Jr.

Then came a two month stretch of morning sickness. With Braden, it wasn't just the morning. He had it rough. I felt bad. I did my best to look out for him, even with my long hours. I got into the rhythm of bringing work home or tackling some on the weekends. It wasn't ideal, but it meant I could step up and do some of the basic household stuff. I'd gotten used to Brade taking care of all that.

In a strange way, it was like I was 18 and doing my share to help Susan out as we raised Braden. I could envision doing this once Bill Jr. was born. It would be even better, since my son was conceived with purpose, with love. Conceived with Braden.

Around the time the baby bump started showing, Braden felt better. Then the pregnancy hormones started kicking in. My son could get moody... sullen, angry, manic... but damn did he get horny. I'd wake up to him sucking me. Or he'd pounce on me when I got home, pulling me by my tie back to the bedroom. It was like our fucking honeymoon.

It got better. Once Braden started swelling, I got even more turned on. I was caught off guard by how much that growing belly and that overall pregnancy thickness would turn me on. I learned not to go rough when having sex, but that was better, too. Just pumping into my hot son while I watched that big round swell where my soon-to-be-born son was. Seeing that pregnancy gut sway lightly but tightly on his midsection. Where our son was.

And Brade's taut muscular chest grew rounder as he body prepared to make milk to feed the newborn when he arrived.

Bill Jr. was a big baby. 9 and a half pounds. I was over the moon, but it was the smile on Braden's face that thrilled me the most.

"We did it, Dad," Brade said as he held our infant son in his arm. He was still in a hospital gown, and even so he looked hot. Braden could look hot in just about anything, I decided. "Bill, Jr."

I saw our son squirm. "He's a feisty one," I said.

Braden laughed. "Was I, Dad?"

I shook my head. "Nah, you were a docile infant. Even as a toddler you were quiet. I don't think we're going to be so lucky."

"Probably not." Braden's eyes were on our son, taking in the miracle of a new life he'd brought into being. He looked up at me, then. "He's gonna be like you, I know it."

"We'll see."

***

I was proud of Braden. Nothing is like parenthood to make you grow up fast, but it was wild to see him step into responsibility. I wasn't able to take paternity leave since to the outside world, I was just helping my single-parent son out. That was the only tough part of this, the fact that Brade and I had to hide our relationship and the fact we'd made a son together.

The first couple of months were amazing but also tough. No sleep, changing diapers, the feeling of always being on shift. And my son and I weren't having sex. Brade wasn't ready, and my own libido was taking a hit. I jerked off in the shower from time to time for a quick release, but that was it.

Until one day I came home to see Brade shirtless on the couch, breastfeeding Bill Jr. It was just, I don't know, angelic, beautiful. Brade in his prime of youthful masculinity and parenthood. Feeding our son.

But there was the physical sight of Braden's body, too. The pregnancy weight was mostly gone but not entirely, and the fullness gave his ex-Marine muscle a beefiness.

"Hey Dad," he said softly as he looked up from Jr to me. "How was work?"

I shrugged and sat down across from him. "Work's work," I replied without wanting to go into the stress of my day. Brade didn't need me to unload that on him. "Nice to come home to this."

Braden laughed. His voice was deep now, a man's grown voice, and sexy as hell. "To what?"

I leaned back. I was chubbing up in my trousers. It was inappropriate sure, but my son was so hot and the neglected sex drive was coming back with a vengeance. "You. Feeding Junior." I paused. "Is that wrong to say?"

Braden got what I was thinking. He shook his head. "I didn't know you were a milk guy."

"Never was," I said, thinking back to when Susan was breastfeeding. "It's you, Brade, the fact you give me this gift."

His voice got soft, emotional. "Let me put Junior in his crib, OK?"

I nodded.

I was in a weird mood when I went to the bedroom to get out of my suit. I felt like I'd sullied something good and perfect about parenthood. Maybe my son would be freaked out. I'd hung my suit up in the walk in closet and had removed my tie when Braden entered the bedroom, still shirtless.

"Junior left some for you, Dad," he said in a quiet tone that I knew was lust. "We doing this?"

I felt my dick rock hard in my briefs. Braden could probably see that beneath my shirt tails. "It's probably wrong, isn't it?" I said.

Braden stepped up. "Inside this house, inside these walls, it's not fucked up, Dad," he said. Throwing back the words I'd told him more than once. My heart beat double time and my breath stopped as he grabbed my hand and guided up to his bare pec. Brade had let his chest hair grow in and there was soft fur all around the swollen nipple.

"You get sore tits?" I asked as my fingers played with the fleshy nib.

He nodded. "Yeah, a good sore though. Means our son has a healthy appetite."

"Oh Brade," I hissed as I leaned in for a kiss.

When you're in an ongoing relationship, particularly with your own son, you can't really rank the sexual milestones, but this definitely ranked up there in hotness. Me and Brade connecting for the first time since the birth of our son. I plunged my tongue into his mouth and felt his flutter back against mine. I could tell he was horned up now, and as I felt up his full pecs, his own mitt reached down to grip my boner.

Braden was the one with willpower to pull back. I could see the erection in his loose shorts.

"I don't think I'm up for fucking yet, Dad, but why don't I lie back and let you nurse me?"

I nodded dumbly. Not bothering to take my dress shirt off, I watched Braden strip and get on the bed while peeled down my underwear to free my hardon. Already I was leaking, dripping clear sap steadily off the tip.

My son's dick was hard, rock hard as he lay back on the pillow, legs slightly spread and his hand cupping his milk-full chest muscle. "Sorry to make you wait for sex," he said.

"Buddy... you should never feel pressured," I said. "But I won't lie, I've missed this."

I crawled on the bed, on top of Braden. Part of me was sad I couldn't be inside him, but even the feel of his nakedness and warmth beneath me was incredible, particularly as our cocks touched.

We kissed, and I did my best to go soft and slow before pulling back.

"You sure it's OK if I have a taste?" I asked Brade.

He nodded, with a grin. "More than OK. The idea is hot to me, too, Dad."

"Fuck," I hissed. This was kinky as hell. But as I kissed along my son's neck and down that hard upper chest, I got crazy excited. My lips traveled along the softer, fleshier part of his pec, dusted in his hair, before I found that swollen nipple.

I licked and sucked at it. I could taste the sweetness there, but milk wasn't really flowing out. That was Ok, I guess. Junior had probably tapped that teat dry.

I felt Brade's hand on my head, massaging my hair. Then I heard his deep, masculine voice. "Kind of munch a little, Dad. Gently, then suck on it at the same time."

Fuck, my son was coaching me on how to nurse at his tit. It took a second, but I coordinated the actions and was rewarded with the flow of his milk.

I moaned excitedly as I tasted Brade's breastmilk, swirling it around my tongue, then swallowing as more came out. I learned to coax more out. It tasted different than what I expected but both rich and watery at the same time.

I was going wild, but it turns out Brade was, too. I could hear the urgent excitement in his voice. "Fuck, Dad, this is so hot! Do my other tit."

The right one was more swollen and raw-looking but Braden didn't seem to mind as I latched my mouth on it and suckled hungrily.

His left hand cradled my head while his right went down to stroke off. I wondered if I could get him to cum like this, but I realized I wanted more. It had been too long since we'd had sex.

Relinquishing his teat, I gave it one last soft kiss then scooted down to taste my son's prick. He was leaking like crazy - like father, like son - and when Braden realized what I was doing he let go other than to feed his dick to me.

It took five bobs and my son was spurting into my mouth and throat, hard. He'd been majorly backed up.

"Dad!" he gasped as he gave it up. "Oh shit!" The aftershocks were intense for him, so I finally pulled off, gently lapping the dribbles which kept coming.

He still had a horniness in his voice. "Want me to suck you?" he asked as I rose up to look him in the eye.

I shook my head. "Can I feel a little more, buddy?"

That made him laugh. "Leave some for Junior," he said but twisted to reach over for the lube in our nightstand.

I took the bottle and squirted some on my prick, kneeling up to show it off for my son. Brade always loved seeing my dad cock and I loved showing it to him. Maybe before long it could be inside him again.

But that would have to wait. I tossed the bottle aside and leaned down. I still couldn't believe the miracle of life and the way Braden's body was producing milk like this. I licked around his tit and then placed my mouth square over it.

This time I had the knack down. I suckled and felt and tasted the milk in my mouth. I didn't want to overdo it, so I just went fot it. Storking furiously as my son breastfed me.

I came hard. As I rode out my orgasm I finally pulled off, resting my face against his meaty chest.

"Love ya, buddy."

"Love ya, too, Dad. So much."

I scooted up and met him in a kiss. I'm sure he was tasting his own milk. Braden was still hard and I hadn't gone soft myself. Maybe we'd go for a round two but just then we just enjoyed the closeness and connection.

"Dad...?" Braden finally said.

"Yeah, Sport?" I said, massaging his Marine-buzzcut hair. We'd talked about what life was going to be like now that he'd served out his enlistment contract, but the stay at home dad thing was more and more appealing to him. And I was getting very into the idea of supporting Braden that way.

"You know I think you're an incredible father, right?"

I leaned up. "I guess I could see where this is going," I said with a wry sadness. I knew that while I'd done my best raising Braden, I hadn't always been the best dad.

He had a contrite look on his face. Maybe a little hurt that he had to be saying this. "I just want you there in Junior's life, maybe in a way you weren't in mine."

"Oh buddy..." I said, heavy in emotion.

He cocked a grin to defuse the heaviness. "Maybe you just knew the hard-to-get approach worked on me."

I laughed, which made Braden laugh.

"I'll do my best, son," I said more seriously. "I want us on the same page when it comes to parenting."

"We will be, Dad," my son said in earnestness. "I know I'm going to learn from you."

****

It was a month before I was fucking Braden again. It was even off to the races with the pregnancy talk during sex. But I didn't need to check up on my son's birth control pills to know he was taking them religiously. I could trust him totally. We'd talked about how we wanted another son, maybe two more, but we wanted a break and time to enjoy raising Junior.

And for all the ups and downs between me and my son as a couple, and yeah the occasional fights, I knew we were of one mind with what we wanted for our family.

[kisssukuna33]

Can i request Sukuna hyping up and being very devoted to his wife who is insecure about her body after having a baby?

Husband Sukuna comforting Wife reader who's insecure about her body after having a baby

"He finally went to sleep" Sukuna said letting out a big sigh of relief as he sat down on the couch beside you.

As much as it was a blessing, being first time parents really took a toll on you both. It's only been 2 months so far and the baby has pretty much changed your life upside down. The dark circles visible in both of your faces say that enough.

"He kept crying even after you left to check the restaurant this morning" a displeased sigh left your mouth matching your husband's.

"I told you to sleep woman" Sukuna said gently grabbing your face into his hands as he observed the dark circles under your eyes, a concerned expression taking over his face.

"Tell that to your son, he's the one keeping me up"

"That's why I told you to call me if he started to give you shit. That's it, I'm closing the restaurant for 3 more weeks" Sukuna said, no almost like he scolded you.

"You're going to lose customers if you keep closing it like this" You voiced your concern because you know Sukuna didn't spend time in the restaurant more than 4 days since you have given birth. Everytime he had to leave he looked at you like he's leaving you alone in a Battlefield.

"That's not something you have to concern yourself with, I pay the workers anyway" He got up from the couch as he went to your shared bedroom and came back with a bag in his hands.

"Besides I already earned enough for my family to be comfortable, you know that" He said as he put the bag in your hands.

"what's this?" You asked curiously taking a peek inside the bag. A dress. A gorgeous tube dress with a large flower in the middle and cut out from the sides. You can never compete with Sukuna's taste when it comes to choosing clothes. He knows what looks good on you everytime and you never doubted his taste until maybe now.

You have given birth only 2 months ago, your post pregnancy belly and the stretch marks surrounding it is still pretty much visible, not to mention you are completely a different size from before. You anxiously check the inside of your dress to see the size Sukuna bought you, in deep down you wanted to check if Sukuna also took notice in your change of weight. But for some reason the size tag has been ripped off from the dress already. That sly bastard.

"Wear it, We are going out for dinner. I already called Choso so he will babysit tonight" Sukuna said as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your hair. He wanted to make you happy, he really did. He didn't want you to remember the early part of your parenting journey as only stress. He thought maybe finally going out for dinner can be a good change for the both of you. But it didn't take him that long to notice the sour expression in your face.

"uh Kuna how about we-"

"No we are going, you have been inside the house for 2 months. You need this" he said in a stern voice leaving no room for arguments.

You sigh thinking of another way to not wear this dress.

"This looks expensive" That earned an eyebrow raise from Sukuna.

"of course it isn't. When the fuck have I ever bought you cheap shit?" Sukuna said like he's personally offended by your comment.

"That's not what i- Anyway maybe this is too much for a dinner" please work! Please work! You mentally chanted as you continued with the lie "I'm gonna save this for a special occasion".

Sukuna wore a dumb look on his face. Clearly trying to figure out what nonsense are you spouting because he can just buy you a new one? Like he always do?

You avoided meeting meeting Sukuna's gaze because that man can read you like a book.

"Woman what are you- And Why do you keep looking that way? Look at me" Sukuna said as he kneeled down in front you.

He cupped your face with one hand as he brought it closer to his face.

"spit it out"

You left out a sigh as you began telling him how you felt about your post pregnancy body and it didn't take long for Sukuna's face to drop. He felt like it was his fault that you felt this way. It's been few weeks since you two shared intimacy and Sukuna wasn't able to remind you how much devoted he is to your body even after you gave birth ( your doctor said 4 weeks of no sex but Sukuna being the protective husband he is, decided to wait atleast two months).

The moment you finished your explanation Sukuna picked you up into his arms. He wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you to the bedroom.

He gently put you down the bed as he started to take off your shirt. You were a bit nervous at first but decided to let him do it anyway. The moment you see the scars visible in your belly you looked away hiding from Sukuna's gaze.

"Look at me, Don't look away"

Sukuna brought his face closer to your scars. First he ran his fingers through them. Like a blind man reading a book and touching it with care. Then his lips started to touch your skin. He kissed you softly slowly making his way around your scars. He kept bringing his eyes to yours reminding them to keep watching. Sukuna didn't miss a single scar, no. When he finally separated his lips from your body, you felt like he casted a spell on you. A purifying spell making all the negative energy around your body go away.

"You went through hell with the brat, those scars are reminders that how strong of a fight you put up. Scars or without scars you are still the same gorgeous woman I fell in love with 2 years ago" listening to Sukuna's words you can't help but let the tears fall down. How much lucky you must be to have this man in your life. If you could marry him again you would do it in a heartbeat.

"And don't you dare call my wife ugly I will fucking kill you"

That earned a giggle from your part as you smacked his chest playfully.

"Your wife must be a very lucky woman then" you murmured wrapping your arms around Sukuna's neck as you pull him into your embrace.

"Nah, I'm the lucky one"

[lsunstreakerl]

for kink prompt...SH!verse, the possessive jealous threesome that never was with max charles + lewis. either it actually happening or max riling charles up by talking about it 😎

1.9k words because they spend too much time yapping. kink prompt fill! SH lestappen and the threesome that never was. explicit, obviously.

pairings: charles leclerc/max verstappen, (in spirit) lewis hamilton/charles leclerc/max verstappen

relevant heads up: slight feminization? in a little bit of a derogatory way but that's more so a thing Max isn't willing to admit he likes. I think the most outrageous thing here is charles taking a picture without asking (but it doesn't go anywhere except the private folder on his phone)

"Max, are you mad at me?"

Max is currently firmly on his side of the bed, trying very hard not to be mad at Charles.

It's not even anger, it's just-

"No."

Charles sighs, half rolling over to drape an arm across his waist.

"I don't believe you."

Three points to Charles, because despite how he's behaving, apparently he isn't an idiot.

"That is because I am lying."

There's a beat of silence. Charles is clearly giving him space to elaborate, and Max is very clearly not interested in elaborating, because it's stupid.

Charles grips his waist and rolls them, settling them so that Max is facing him, even though he's avoiding eye contact.

"Chéri- I cannot fix it if you don't talk to me."

Max frowns.

"I thought you'd be more interested in talking to Lewis."

Charles makes a face like he's swallowed a lemon, and it's the closest to unattractive Max has ever seen him, which makes him feel slightly better.

"What?"

Well, Max has already gone and stuck his foot in his mouth, why not make it worse.

"Since you two have been so cozy lately."

The root of the problem here is that Max is acting like a jealous, bitchy WAG. Ferrari had done some dumb clothing collaboration for the winter, and it had involved Charles and Lewis and a fucking log cabin. With one bed.

"Max, what are you-"

Max tries to roll back over, but Charles snags him around the waist, pulling him back in. Max ducks his head down, catches his teeth around the edge of Charles' collarbone and nips.

"Ow- Max. What do you mean by that?"

Max keeps his head down.

"Your stupid winter ad went out today, and everyone on the internet is talking about how you are both 'so boyfriend coded' and it is stupid."

Charles is quiet for a moment, and Max is sure he's coming up with some kind of apology, appropriately dramatic for the situation.

Charles laughs.

Max practically gives himself whiplash yanking his head back, eyes narrowed.

"Sorry- Max, baby, I am sorry, really, it is just-"

Max groans and rolls away. Yes, it's stupid. Yes, he knows. Yes, Charles would rather step on a slobbery dog toy than get in bed with Lewis. Still.

"Chéri, come back-"

Charles can barely speak through his laughter, and Max flips him off as he stalks out of the bedroom.

Stupid boyfriend. He turns his head slightly, calling out over his shoulder in a parting shot.

"Maybe I should go dig up the tweets from 2021, where everyone was talking about how Lewis bends me over after every race- see how you feel then."

The laughter abruptly cuts off, and Max has to fight not to choke on his own sudden giggle.

He turns to poke his head back through the doorway, and Charles is sitting up, duvet pooled around his waist, eyes narrowed.

"I'm sorry, what tweets?"

Oh- oh Charles doesn't know.

Max can't stop the smug grin playing at his lips as he tugs his phone out of his pocket.

"You did not see them? It was practically every weekend Charlie, all these accounts saying Lewis puts me in my place after every race, or that I was just being bratty- Lando sent me one that called Lewis my dom once-"

Max lights up, delighted at the way Charles' face has gone shadowy. This whole thing could have been avoided if he'd just apologized.

"I mean, really- if everyone thought he and I were fucking, and now you and him are fucking, we should just invite him in, see if he fucks as good as his reputation."

"Max."

Charles' voice is dark, and Max freezes. When he looks up, Charles' eyes are locked onto his, and they don't waver as he speaks.

"Leave your phone on the counter, and then you're coming back to bed."

Max hadn't intended to make Charles act like... this.

He's not complaining. He drops his phone off on the dresser before making his way back onto the bed, and his knee has barely hit the mattress before Charles is manhandling him, laying him out flat with his wrists pinned above him.

"You can still apologize for that, and we can pretend it didn't happen."

Max is not fucking apologizing, if anything Charles needs to apologize, for doing such a stupid photoshoot.

He raises his chin.

"Maybe you want him on the phone to hear it also? I can moan his name very easily as well, want to hear-"

Charles grips his jaw hard, bringing his teeth down into the meat of Max's shoulder, and Max gasps, jerks at his hands, but Charles keeps them held firm.

"Don't be a whore, Max."

Max hates how those words, in that tone, is rapidly making him hard, pressing his hips up into Charles.

"You really think you would want Lewis here? You want him to see you beg for fingers, start crying on my cock? You want him to see how desperate you get to be full, the way you fall apart if I don't give you something when I'm done?"

Max tilts his head back, because Charles' tone is dark, and he's still holding his jaw in his hand, but Max is grinning.

"Maybe he would fuck me better. Maybe he would not tease, maybe he would not even-"

Charles shoves three fingers into his mouth and Max gags, knows he's dug his own grave.

"What if I said you were right? What if I called him right now, left the phone next to you on the pillow and edged you all night?"

Charles scoffs, pulling his fingers out and wrestling Max's shorts off, pressing his thighs apart, and Max moans.

"You- you would not, you get too impatient to get your dick in me-"

Charles presses his thumb meanly into the tip of Max's cock, and Max jerks underneath him.

"Fuck, you're as wet as a girl, aren't you baby? You want it that bad? You really are a whore, if this is all it takes."

Max twists underneath him, thighs flexing.

"No- no, it is not-"

"Right, of course not. You'd probably love if I called him over, let him see you fucked out and messy. Maybe I'd let him have my sloppy seconds when I'm done with you, yes?"

Max's face is violently red, and he didn't mean for any of this, the way he's so hard it hurts, the way Charles isn't fucking stretching him, the way his words are ringing in his ears.

He opens his mouth to respond, but Charles flicks his wrist again, and Max's head flies back into the pillowcase.

"Charlie,"

Charles continues talking over him, like Max hadn't said anything at all.

"He seems like a tits guy, and you've got plenty."

"They're not-"

Max hates when Charles calls them... that. It makes something in his gut churn, makes him feel hot. He squirms underneath Charles, wants to hide his face or have his hands back, but Charles doesn't give him the option.

Charles laughs at him again, lowers his head around one of Max's pecs and bites, and Max's hips jerk up off the bed, legs wrapping around Charles as tears bead at his eyes.

"Hurts, Charles please, please I didn't mean it-"

Charles lets go, bringing his head back up to kiss Max, wet and filthy and messy.

"I thought you wanted Lewis, no?"

Max bites at Charles' lower lip, pulling him in with his legs to grind against him.

"You- I want you, fuck me, please."

Charles squeezes his wrists together for a moment, grinning against his skin.

"See, I would, but-"

He presses Max back into the mattress, sucking hickies into his throat where they'll be impossible to hide.

"-you are being a brat."

Max moans, half out of desperation and half out of frustration, fruitlessly grinding his hips up for friction. It's not enough.

"Please, I was-"

Charles squeezes at the base of Max's cock, long fingers wrapped around him, and Max could cry. He's not getting fucked tonight. He'll be lucky if he gets off at all.

Charles must be able to see the resignation on his face, and he laughs at him as he brushes his fingers across Max's tip- gets them wet and sticky before bringing them back up to his lips.

"Suck."

Max lets his mouth drop open, and he's trying not to cry around Charles' fingers, even as he can feel Charles rutting against his hip, because it's not fair-

Charles tenses, groaning as his fingers press deep into Max's mouth, grazing the back of his throat. Max gags, feels sticky and wet and hot, and he's not going to come tonight, but Charles still looks so pretty above him.

He's still trying to swallow down the excess saliva when Charles pulls his fingers out, wiping them against Max's cheek.

Charles leans over him, grabbing his phone off the dresser before sitting back on his heels, and Max is still so pent up, so close to coming he really thinks all it would take it just a bit of pressure.

Max doesn't realize for a second until he hears the shutter noise, and then it hits him- Charles has taken a picture of him, debauched and messy, desperate and wanting.

"Oh, oh don't send that-"

Charles huffs a laugh, tossing the phone down by Max as he lets go of his wrists.

"If you want to get off so bad you can call Lewis and beg him."

Max whimpers, because he doesn't fucking want Lewis, he wants Charles.

"You, just you, I only want-"

Charles brushes his fingers lightly against Max's hip, so close to where he wants him, but not close enough.

"That's right."

"Please."

Charles grins down at him, gorgeous and beautiful and terribly mean.

"You can beg prettier than that."

Max feels tears sliding down his cheeks, and he's so close, he might even get there just by Charles taking that humiliating tone with him.

"Please, please get me off, please let me come, only you- I never wanted anyone else, just for you, Charles please-"

"There we go."

Charles finally wraps his fingers back around Max's cock, and Max sobs, gasping as Charles jerks his wrist, and then he's done, feels his own come painting stripes across his stomach, trembling underneath Charles' hands.

"That's it, there you are."

Charles carefully strokes him through it, letting go right before it tips into overstimulation, leaning down to gently kiss Max.

"You were so good for me, you are so beautiful like this, I love you."

Max steadies his breathing, tugs Charles into him to hide his face in his neck.

"Thank you, thank you, I'm sorry-"

Charles presses a kiss into his hair.

"Nothing to be sorry for, unless you actually want Lewis in the bedroom."

The post-nut clarity is starting to hit, and Max recoils slightly.

"Eugh-"

Charles bursts into laughter, peppering kisses on Max's face and cheeks, dropping one on his nose.

"So now it is not okay? You are ridiculous, did you know that?"

Max turns his nose up, avoiding eye contact.

"I of course do not know what you're talking about. I was very mature about the whole thing."

Charles squawks, looking affronted.

"This whole thing started because of you-"

Max is going to pretend he doesn't know what he's talking about.

[circescircle]

im still starving for more dad Adam content!! So I request a fic where fem!reader and adam are married and together they have a daughter who brings her boyfriend home for the first time, and adam becomes very protective, thinking that no mer boy deserves to date the daughter of the first man.

Or Adam comforting his daughter after a harsh breakup. 🙏🥹

I love that man so much it hurts (I want to chuck him in a blender) Seeing as you said First Man, I’ll go with Canon Adam with his (Heaven) spouse and their adopted angel daughter (Ruby)

I did make it Gender Neutral (on accident) but you’re only mentioned so I hope that’s okay 😭

CW: Cursing, a bit of world building (Angels grow up and go to school bc it’s easier for me), Adam wanting to kill someone to nobody’s surprise

He never liked that kid. Too many smiles. Too stiff. Too… perfect. Like he was hiding something.

He never thought the dumb kid would be shitty enough to cheat on his daughter with some random angel. This was meant to be heaven for fuck’s sake.

Maybe he should chuck the kid down to Hell. Sera wouldn’t care, right?

“He told me,” Ruby sniffed, “that he loved me.”

He rubbed her back, his wings curled around her, “I know, baby, I know.” He never wanted to kill someone more than today. But Ruby needed him, so… he’ll wait until you can come in and do your Emotionally Available Parent shit and make her feel better.

Until then, he’d keep her close. He could do physical affection. Easier than words.

When she took in another shaky breath, he felt the usual bloodlust that never seems to go away, but he also felt a pit in his chest. It only happened with you and his now tear-stained, hiccuping mess of a daughter. Something akin to getting his heart ripped out and stomped on.

Ruby loved Adam. She looked up to him. He taught her guitar, which she took to quickly. Duh, he’s got magic genes. She even did a ‘Who’s Your Hero’ project based on him. She trusted him.

So why couldn’t she trust him about… Shit, what was the kid’s name? Doesn’t matter. He’ll get rid of him anyways. But if she had just listened, they’d probably be learning a new riff or making a mess in the kitchen as they tried to cook for you.

But you, in your all knowing wisdom, explained that even Angels are weak to love.

Obviously, if he was willing to do anything for you and daughter.

He sighed as he kissed her head, “I’ve got you, Ru. It’ll be okay.”

My friend is going through a bad breakup and I ‘broke up’ with a (toxic) friend I’ve known for 12ish years so I’m definitely inspired.

[piastrw]

i would love to read abt a threesome in the bunny oscar verse… maybe max and charles get to him before he goes to carlos…!!

kink prompt list

me when i go insane and write almost 4k words for a tumblr prompt game….

anyway. here’s the bunny fix au where charles and max get to oscar before he goes to carlos (this is my first time writing a threesome so if the logistics are fucked. no they’re not. just go with it 😔) enjoy bunny oscar 🐰

—

Oscar stands at the edge of the room, arms crossed, glaring at Max and Charles perched on his hotel bed.

He takes a second to process.

First—he’s got fucking bunny ears on his head and a dumb little tail twitching above his ass.

Second—Max fucking Verstappen and Charles fucking Leclerc are staring at him like he’s the daily special and they haven’t eaten in weeks.

Alright.

He clears his throat. “Care to explain?” He pauses. Then, deadpan: “Please.”

Max answers, casual as anything. “We’re here to help.”

Charles nods, smiling.

Oscar squints, suspicion creeping in. “Why?”

Charles tilts his head, thoughtful. “Do you want the truth or the PG version?”

Oscar just scoffs, arms crossing tighter.

Max grins. “Oscar, you’re hot. And you’ve got bunny ears.” A shrug, like that should explain everything. “It’s cute.”

…Huh.

“You know Charles said your cat ears were cuter, right?” Oscar says.

And—holy shit. Max blushes.

What the hell.

“Not the point, Oscar,” Charles cuts in.

This is the dumbest situation of Oscar’s life.

Max moves. Grabs his wrist. Tugs him in with zero effort.

“Come on, baby.” Low voice. Too smooth. “Just yes or no.”

Easy. Yes or no.

Except it’s not easy.

Oscar stands there, heart in his throat. He’s never had a threesome before. And, look—he’s not stupid. He knows Max and Charles are hot. He’s not blind, and he’s definitely gay enough to notice.

It should be simple.

But then he thinks about what Lando said earlier.

What about Carlos? Lando had teased. You two could finally work out all that crazy sexual tension.

Would Carlos even want him like this? Would he pull Oscar close, kiss him slow, murmur Yes, Oscar, of course I’ll fuck the bunny ears off you against his skin?

Or—worse—would he laugh? Say something stupid that would leave Oscar crawling out of his own skin with secondhand embarrassment?

It’s too much. One fucking day with this curse and he’s already at his limit.

So he looks back at Max and Charles, their gazes heavy, waiting.

“…Yes,” he whispers.

Charles lights up, grinning so wide it should be illegal.

And then Max moves again. Closes the space. Slots their mouths together.

Oscar makes a soft noise—surprise, maybe.

It barely registers before Max deepens the kiss, the hand on his waist sliding up to grip his hip. Oscar moans into it, flushed hot with embarrassment when Max’s hold tightens, fingers pressing into skin.

A tongue slides between his lips, shameless, licking into his mouth like a man starved.

Oscar barely has time to process before Max pulls back, lips shiny, a thin string of spit connecting them.

“Bed, yes?” Max murmurs.

Oscar nods. Too fast. His brain is definitely short-circuiting.

Charles tugs him onto the bed, barely gives him a second to breathe before he’s straddling Charles’ lap, hands warm on his hips.

One slides up, fingers curling into Oscar’s hair, the other pressing low against his back, riding his shirt up as he leans in.

Charles kisses him. Really kisses him. Deep. Wet. Tongue and teeth.

Oscar just melts.

The tension in his shoulders dissolves as Charles sucks on his bottom lip, pulling a noise from him that he definitely didn’t mean to make.

Behind them, Max chuckles. “You look good like this.” His hands skim up Oscar’s sides, fingers pressing against the curve of his ribs.

Oscar shivers.

And then—hands.

Inside his sweats. Charles cups his ass, thumbs pressing right at the base of his stupid, twitching tail.

Oscar shudders, gasping into his mouth, hips grinding down before he can stop himself. Charles’ fingers trail over the fluffy base, and Oscar jerks—whimpers—rubs against him.

“So sensitive,” Charles murmurs against his lips, but Oscar can barely think past the needy little sounds slipping from his mouth, past the way his skin burns hot.

When they break apart, Oscar’s lips feel swollen, raw, already aching for more.

Max’s firm hands peel Oscar’s shirt off, toss it aside, drags him to lay down against the pillows.

Oscar’s chest heaves. His floppy ears twitch wildly. His tail probably gives him away entirely.

Max settles between his legs, fingers already at his waistband, and Oscar exhales—

Lifts his hips eagerly, lets Max pull his sweats down in one smooth motion.

And fuck—

He’s so hard. Already leaking. Already aching. His ears flatten for half a second, heat crawling up his neck.

Charles hums in approval beside them. Beaming.

Max shrugs off his shirt, and Oscar stares. Like, full-body frozen, pupils blown wide, mouth dry.

He wants to touch. Wants to bite. Wants—

The bed shifts. Charles moves in, propping himself up on one elbow, so close that Oscar can feel the heat of him, can smell his skin.

And, okay. Look. Oscar knows he looks good. But right now? Spread out, practically presenting for two of the most unfairly attractive men he’s ever met?

Yeah. His instincts are going haywire. He needs.

His thighs twitch, caught between spreading wider and rubbing together for any kind of friction—but Max catches his knee, presses it back down.

“Don’t hide,” Max murmurs.

Oscar shudders, a sharp, needy tremor running straight down his spine.

Charles hums, dragging his fingers up Oscar’s chest, teasing over his nipples.

“So pretty, mon lapin,” Charles whispers.

Heat floods Oscar’s face—hot, humiliating—but the words, the praise, only make his cock twitch, dripping against his tummy.

He bites his lip, tries to keep quiet, tries to breathe—

“Let us hear you, baby.” Max’s lips brush against his ear.

Then Max wraps a hand around his cock, strokes slow, and—

Oscar moans. High and needy, hips bucking wildly into Max’s fist.

Charles laughs, pressing kisses down his neck, nipping just enough to make him writhe.

Oscar’s brain is gone. His body knows what it wants, and it’s this.

“Please,” he gasps, barely aware of the word leaving his mouth. “Fuck, please—”

Charles tugs lightly at one of his floppy ears, then brushes a teasing stroke over the fur. Oscar whines, the sound breaking as Max drags his thumb over the head of his cock, smearing the precum around.

“Making a mess,” Max murmurs, pumping him slow.

Charles shifts, stripping down to his boxers before pressing in close again, bare skin against bare skin. Oscar moans, feeling Charles’ fingers skim over his belly, dipping low, almost brushing against Max’s hand.

Max grabs him behind the knee, pushing his leg up, spreading him wide.

“Charlie,” Max says, “hold our bunny open for me, baby.”

Charles sighs, but he’s eager, grabbing Oscar’s thigh and draping it over his waist. Oscar feels the hard line of Charles’ cock pressing against him, making his breath stutter.

“Shit,” Max swears, running a thumb around his dry hole, then swiping lower, pressing briefly against the base of his fluffy tail, smushed against the sheets. “So fucking hot, Oscar.”

Oscar whimpers, nerves sparking, body thrumming with need.

“Want us to fuck you?” Charles murmurs, lips brushing his ear.

Oscar doesn’t even need to think. He nods immediately.

Max hums. “Lube?”

Oscar barely manages a breathless, “Suitcase.” He points weakly toward the corner of the room.

Max pulls away instantly, leaving Oscar’s cock to drop against his belly pathetically. He makes a frustrated noise, pouting without thinking.

Charles laughs. “Poor bunny,” he coos, and before Oscar can complain, Charles wraps a hand around his cock, stroking him just as slow, just as teasing as Max had.

Oscar whimpers, hips jerking. “Don’t—”

Charles grins, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Don’t what?”

Oscar glowers. “Tease.”

Charles just laughs again, fingers tightening. “I won’t.”

Max is back in an instant, tossing the bottle of lube onto the mattress before leaning in, kissing Oscar again. At the same time, Charles picks up the pace of his hand.

Oscar whines into Max’s mouth. Jesus—he feels wrecked.

Four hands, two mouths—touching him, kissing him, pulling him apart piece by piece. Oscar is dizzy with it.

He’s so overwhelmed he can’t even think.

Max kisses him deep, tongue slipping past Oscar’s lips, swallowing every whimper. Charles is stroking his cock faster now, twisting his wrist just right, the way Oscar likes—and fuck, he’s—

His fingers clutch at Max’s shoulders, nails digging in as he whines, hips stuttering, body tensing all at once.

Charles chuckles against his jaw, breath warm. “That’s it,” he murmurs. “Come for us, bunny.”

Oscar does.

His body arches, a wrecked sob catching in his throat as he spills over Charles’ hand, pleasure crashing over him so intensely he can’t even focus, only aware of Max kissing him through it, of Charles stroking him through the aftershocks.

Oscar shudders, gasping against Max’s lips. His body feels boneless.

Charles hums, swiping his fingers through the mess on Oscar’s stomach with a smirk. “Cute.”

Oscar groans, already feeling the embarrassment creeping in, but Max just kisses him again softly.

He lays there, disassociating slightly, floating somewhere between bliss and disbelief as Max and Charles move around him.

It was just a handjob. A fucking handjob. Why does he feel like his soul just left his body?

But he doesn’t even have time to process it before there are hands on him again.

“Wait—” he starts, but Charles is already flipping him onto his stomach, pressing a warm hand to the small of his back to keep him in place.

Oscar tenses immediately. He knows what they’re looking at. He knows.

“Oh,” Charles hums, pleased. His fingers ghost over the base of Oscar’s tail, right where it meets his skin.

Oscar groans, shoving his face into the pillow. “Don’t laugh about it.”

Max is laughing, the bastard. “Don’t be embarrassed,” he teases, dragging a finger down Oscar’s spine. “It’s adorable.”

Then Charles’ fingers curl around the little fluff of his tail, giving it the tiniest tug—just testing, just playing—

And Oscar whimpers.

“Don’t do that,” Oscar breathes, muffled into the sheets.

Charles tilts his head. “Why? You don’t like it?” He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to Oscar’s shoulder blade.

Oscar doesn’t respond. He just shifts his hips back, trying to escape Charles’ hands, feeling overwhelmed.

But then—oh, fuck.

His movement presses him right into Max’s crotch. Ass to dick.

Oscar freezes.

What the fuck? When did Max lose his pants?

Slowly, Oscar turns his head—

Max is right there, naked, thick and hard and heavy against Oscar’s skin, looking entirely unbothered by the situation.

Oscar swallows. “Jesus.”

Charles giggles beside him, delighted. Oscar thinks he might actually die.

Even the drag of the sheets against his oversensitive cock is too much, but now there’s this—Max pressed up behind him, big and hard—and Oscar feels like he might just combust on the spot.

Charles kisses him again, slow and distracting, maybe to pull his focus away from the sound of Max uncapping the lube.

Oscar swears he hears Max mutter something like, “I have to do all the work,” before slick fingers slide up the curve of his ass, spreading the warmth over his skin.

Oscar moans, into Charles’ mouth. His body is thrumming, humming, aching with sensitivity, but it feels good—so good it’s almost unbearable.

Charles breaks the kiss first, lips pink and swollen, breathing a little uneven. “Oscar,” he starts, but Oscar doesn’t open his eyes, too caught up in the feeling of Max’s fingers teasing around his rim.

Charles makes a pleased little sound, then tugs lightly at Oscar’s floppy ears, making them twitch. “Bunny,” he coaxes, “look at me.”

Oscar barely manages to crack his eyes open. Charles is watching him, pupils blown, looking half-amused and half-starved, and Oscar doesn’t even get a chance to ask what he wants before Charles is leaning in close, murmuring against his lips—

“I want you to fuck me.”

He says it at the same time Max pushes a finger inside him, sinking in with zero resistance.

Oscar chokes on a breath, body jerking. “Christ—”

Charles just smirks, dragging his fingers over the tips of Oscar’s ears again, playful and teasing. “Is that a yes?” he murmurs.

Oscar nods, eager, desperate. “Fuck yes—”

Just as Max adds another finger.

Oscar gasps. His grip tightens on Charles’ waist, fingers pressing into soft skin before he fumbles clumsily at Charles’ boxers, trying to shove them down. Charles huffs a quiet laugh but lifts his hips to help.

And just like that—everyone’s naked.

Oscar barely has time to process it, the sheer absurdity of it.

His tail twitches again but he doesn’t notice, too caught up in the slow drag of Max’s fingers inside him, stretching him open.

Max notices, though.

And he fucking laughs, pressing a kiss to the back of Oscar’s neck.

Oscar would argue—he wants to—but then Max crooks his fingers just right, and any protest unravels into a sharp, punched-out breath.

He tries to focus, to be useful, to help Charles open up for him. It’s difficult when Max is knuckle-deep inside him, but Oscar doesn’t want to be selfish.

“Charles,” he murmurs, sliding a palm over Charles’ waist, pulling him closer. His hand trails lower, fingers dipping between Charles’ cheeks—

And he feels it.

Cool metal, smooth against his fingertips.

Oscar stills. Blinks.

“What the fuck,” he breathes.

Behind him, Max huffs a quiet laugh—watching, obviously—while Charles just smiles, biting his lip as he tugs playfully at Oscar’s floppy ear.

“Something wrong, bun?”

Oscar doesn’t answer. Can’t.

Max pulls his fingers out of him with a slick sound, and Oscar shudders, his round, fluffy tail still wagging—pathetically.

“He wanted to be prepared for you, Oscar.”

Charles hums, tilting his head. Then he lays back properly, spreading his legs, feet flat on the bed. His fingers hook around the plug, twisting once before pulling it out.

The stretch of it makes his mouth fall open, cheeks pink, breath catching as it slides free.

“Come on,” he murmurs.

Oscar makes a broken little noise. His cock twitches, leaking, his tail fluttering all excited.

Max’s hands are warm on his waist as they guide him forward, pressing him between Charles’ legs, close enough that Oscar can see—pink, slick, stretched just enough. Waiting for him.

“Go on, bunny,” Max purrs, breath hot against Oscar’s ear. “Be good for him.”

Oscar doesn’t need to be told twice.

He presses in, slow at first, just the head slipping inside—and fuck, Charles is tight, warm, soft.

Charles exhales, a breathy little oh, barely even a sound, but it shoots straight through Oscar, makes his thighs tremble as he pushes deeper, sinking into heat that wraps around him like a vice.

His breath stutters. His tail twitches, thumping against Max’s stomach where he’s still pressed up close behind him.

Max laughs, dragging his hands down Oscar’s sides, not helping.

“You feel that?” Max murmurs, fingers squeezing at Oscar’s hips. “So tight for you. He’s been waiting for this.”

Oscar groans, drops onto his elbows on either side of Charles’ head. His ears flop forward, stupid, falling into his face, brushing against Charles’ cheeks.

He growls, annoyed, shaking his head, but they won’t stay back—fuck, is this how girls feel when their hair gets in the way?

Charles giggles. “Let me hold them for you,” he whispers, reaching up, fingers curling around the base of Oscar’s ears, holding them back as he pulls him down for a kiss.

His fingertips brush through the fur, soft, barely-there, and Oscar shudders. His whole body tenses, a sharp, instinctive reaction that makes Charles gasp beneath him, makes his cock throb where he’s buried deep.

Max hums, knowing. “Sensitive there, aren’t you, bunny?”

Oscar makes a helpless, wrecked little sound. Max chuckles, dragging one hand up his waist, the other sliding lower, fingers pressing between his thighs, teasing his hole already so open and fucking wet with lube.

“Let’s see how long you last.”

Oscar barely has time to breathe before Max spreads him open, thumbs pressing into the soft give of his ass, exposing him as Oscar shudders.

Charles keeps kissing him, keeps nipping at his lips, holding him close. His cock leaks between them, smearing wet against Oscar’s stomach, and Oscar can feel the way he jumps horny.

Then Max presses in, forcing Oscar open around the thick stretch of it, and fuck—

Oscar yelps. His tail wags—pathetic—kicking uselessly against Max’s stomach as he sinks deeper, stretching Oscar wide.

It’s too much. Too full, too overwhelming, his body torn between the heat swallowing him up front and the impossible pressure behind.

Max bottoms out, buried to the hilt inside him.

But he doesn’t move.

Doesn’t fuck him.

Just stays there, cock thick and heavy in his ass, his hands firm on Oscar’s waist.

Oscar whines, twitching his hips, trying to move, but Max’s grip stays firm.

“Work for it, Oscar,” Max murmurs. His fingers press into Oscar’s waist, thumbs dragging possessive circles over the dip of his hips. “Make it good for us.”

Okay.

Oscar moves.

And fuck, it’s insane.

Every thrust has him caught between them.

Oscar just whimpers. He doesn’t know where to focus—

Max, thick inside him, stretching him deep, pressing against everything that makes his body sing. Or Charles, tight and slick around him, needy, clenching like he wants to pull Oscar deeper, hold him there, keep him.

Max groans behind him, fingers digging into his waist, guiding his movements, controlling the rhythm.

Charles tilts his head, lips brushing hot against Oscar’s throat right over the two tiny freckles there, breath ragged as he whispers, “Feels good?”

Oscar makes a sound, half a moan, half a whine, too overwhelmed to answer.

Max just laughs. “Look at him.”

Charles hums. “So pretty when he’s gone like this.” His lips trace up Oscar’s throat, pressing soft, almost affectionate kisses against the flushed skin. “Nothing going on in that bunny brain, huh?”

Oscar tries to glare, but Max snaps his hips forward, punching the air from his lungs and the moan that leaves his mouth betrays him.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Charles breathes, tightening around him.

Max groans behind him, dragging his hands up Oscar’s ribs. “Think he even remembers his own name right now?”

Charles huffs out a quiet laugh, tilting his hips up. “Doubt it. Try asking him.”

Max’s grip tightens, his next thrust sharp enough to make Oscar keen. “Oscar,” Max murmurs. “What’s your name, baby?”

Oscar makes a wrecked noise. His brain isn’t fucking working, everything drowned out by the stretch, the heat, the feeling of being caught between them, used and ruined and owned.

“Shit,” Charles laughs, dragging his nails down Oscar’s back. “Nothing. All gone.”

Oscar hates them.

He loves them.

His thighs shake as he tries to move, but it’s too much. He can’t keep up.

“Aw,” Max coos, leaning in, pressing a kiss to the shell of his ear. “You need help, bunny? Want us to take care of you?”

Oscar whimpers, nodding fast.

Max grins, grips Oscar’s hips tight, and snaps into him, knocking a moan from his throat. The pace has Oscar’s body moving helplessly, his own cock grinding up into Charles, every thrust forcing his tiny little jerks into Charles’s body.

“Fuck—fuck, I’m close—” Charles gasps, suddenly high, and Oscar feels it when he clenches down around his cock.

Oscar whimpers because fuck, Charles is so pretty like this. His flushed cheeks, his damp curls, his mouth falling open in a soft, ruined little O—and then he’s coming, hot between them, making a mess of their stomachs, shaking as his hips stutter.

“Jesus—shit—” Oscar whines, body tensing, “me too, me too—”

Charles barely opens his eyes, still dazed, pupils blown as he presses their foreheads together. “Fuck, bun,” he whispers. “Inside me, yes? Want you to fill me up.”

Oscar breaks.

He comes with a whimper, pleasure ripping through him, his nose scrunching up, mouth open, bunny teeth peeking through.

Charles kisses him through it, licking into his mouth, swallowing every little sound, his hole milking Oscar’s cock as he fills him up.

“Fuck,” Max growls behind them, his pace turning sloppy, even harder, dragging out Oscar’s over-sensitivity with every deep, wet thrust. Oscar whimpers, so overstimulated he can barely breathe.

“Gonna cum,” Max mutters.

Oscar just nods, too gone to do anything else—just lets Max spill inside him.

—

Oscar is wrecked. Properly, thoroughly, blissed-out wrecked.

He hopes it worked, hopes the curse is fucked off for good, because he’s tucked against Charles’ chest like a very satisfied, very well-used plush toy. His ears twitch sleepily, tail flicking lazily, no longer the frantic thing it was before.

Max is watching it with way too much interest.

“It’s still moving,” Max murmurs, reaching out to press a finger into the soft fluff of it.

Oscar groans, barely lifting his head. “Stop.”

Max, predictably, does not stop. He taps it again, grinning when it twitches. “I think it likes me.”

Charles snorts, arms locked around Oscar like a weighted blanket, fingers scratching lightly at Oscar’s scalp. “Doubt it. Bunny’s just too blissed out to fight back.”

Oscar makes a noise, part whine, part groan. “I hate both of you.”

Max taps his tail again, watching it twitch, fascinated. “Do you, though?”

“Yes,” Oscar grumbles. But he’s too warm, too sated, too heavy with post-fuck satisfaction to put any real venom behind it.

Charles hums, pressing a lazy kiss to Oscar’s forehead. “Bunny’s lying. He loves us.”

Oscar pointedly does not answer.

His tail flicks again, slow and sleepy.

Max grins. “Guess that’s a thank you.”

[laz-kay]

Having analysed both Brad Bakshi and David Brittlesbee's characters so heavily over the course of the last few years, I can safely say that my theory of them being endgame has solidified.

Now, "endgame" doesn't necessarily mean they need to become romantically involved. I'm saying this as a diehard BradDavid shipper (maybe the BradDavid shipper), but there's a strong probability we have - in fact - been queerbaited with these two mfs. Shocking, I know.

We know there's a female character making an appearance in a later episode, and she's - supposedly - an ex lover of Brad's. I, for one, am thrilled we're getting an insight into Brad's personal life, and I think people are losing sight of that. There is every possibility Brad and David are two straight guys, and I still believe - with this theory - they belong together somehow.

There have been far too many circumstances where David and Brad have found comfort in each other, have shown vulnerability with each other, and have shared interests. The parallels between their characters - despite them being completely juxtaposed versions of the other - are stifling.

Being together doesn't automatically constitute a romantic relationship. Maybe these two trauma-filled individuals deserve to have someone who listens to them, who helps them become a better version of themself, and makes their life that little bit easier.

Brad and David are opposite ends of the same spectrum. The spectrum here being "fear of rejection and getting hurt". They go about hiding this phobia is completely different ways. David - being the open book he is - forces us to think nothing else is going on underneath his surface. He lays it out for all of us to see so we needn't ask about his mental health or his greatest fears, because we believe we already know everything there is to know.

Brad, on the other hand, is ambiguous as fuck. He's an aloof guy who's masquerading as a sociopathic capitalist in order to keep people distant. Keeping people distant - and somewhat frightened of you - means there'll be no questions. No questions means no opportunity for vulnerability, hence no reason to get hurt by any of his colleagues.

Analysing from the first season, it's apparent how much the two have changed; how much they're moving along the spectrum towards each other. Evolving, if you will. David has become more closed off, and Brad - miraculously - has opened himself up to helping people without any ulterior motive/self-gain.

It’s almost as if their job roles have shifted too. David becoming more corporate based and Brad leaning towards creative because of Dana. All David seems to talk about right now is monetary value and how COVID was great because it gave the video game franchise so much revenue. And Brad, despite having money at the back of his mind at all times, does have the creative team at heart. Every financial decision Brad has forced down the team’s throats has somehow benefitted creative more than corporate. Battle Royale? The Casino? Playpennies?

It's as if they're closing in on each other somehow; becoming more like the other because it makes them a better person? Their initial plans of hiding their fears haven't worked, so why not try the mirrored response?

Look, they both come from abusive households, have a crippling fear of losing people close to them, and hate showing vulnerability. There's a lot that is different too, but it's become increasingly obvious that these two dorks need each other in their lives. As friends and companions.

When David asked Brad to help him move, I'm convinced he thought he and Brad were already best friends. Hell, they'd worked together for the better part of a decade, still shared an office at that time, consistently called each other during lockdown to play a dumb video game for a bet, and Brad even helped David find a girlfriend. I'd believe we were buddies if I were David.

Brad is never seen without a long sweater/shirt on. During "Quarantine" when he's on a solo call with David, we see him for the first time in a short sleeved shirt exposing his arms. Almost like a subliminal way of letting Brad express vulnerability without meaning to. He's very slowly becoming softer and more "David-ish", and that's probably a good thing.

Idk, man. I just think these nerds need to get a shift on and move in together or something. Sit and have wine nights and talk about their shared trauma because societal norms suck and men should talk more and have more friends. They need to look after each other, because it's quite clear no one else is/will for a while.

[whoopsyeahokay]

Alphabet Soup

summary: prompt fill. the journey of a clandestine love affair at several stages because Wally Clark craves what he can't have and refuses to keep his hands to himself. and you live for it.

pairing: grey!Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: smut. AU - modern setting. romanticized toxic behavior. cheating. egregious use of the word 'baby'.

bon reading, frens

___________________________🧿

Alphabet Soup - F

F is for how Wally shamelessly flirts with you. A fun way to make a boring Friday afternoon more interesting. He has to be here, some Booster Club bullshit to raise money for new cheer uniforms since Janet and her drones strongarmed the principal into bringing the squad into 2024. As the diligent, doting boyfriend, Wally finagled his teammates into helping. A car wash, guys and girls in bathing suits, flexing and feeding into fantasies that shouldn't be given a platform. You know, the kind of shit that shouldn't fly but does because Janet has Claire, and Claire always gets her way if she flashes enough of her family's money around.

And chaste little cherub that you are, you and your friends are there to help, manning the cash box and filling buckets of soapy water when Janet snaps her fingers. Whatever, it gives Wally something to look at between scrubbing down cougars' mom-vans and pretending to give a shit when Janet sprays herself with the hose. A drowned rat with a fake tan, fake teeth, fake tits, bought and paid for by Corporate Mogul Daddy.

God, Wally wants to go back in time and punch himself for agreeing to her dumb social-climb agenda. He was willing at the time. Why not? He has an ego, likes attention, and being king of Split River High comes with fantastic perks.

One, for example, being that he can get some dipshit bench-rider to take over for him for a few minutes while he follows you into the building.

You stand at the vending machine, perusing the options, hands in the back pockets of jean shorts Wally would kill a man to see you bend over in. A Cheshire smile and devious eyes, he stalks up to you and leans against the vending machine, dripping sweat and soapy water from the last car.

"Let me guess," He starts, smooth, grinning at you like you're something he wants to catch with his teeth, "your heart says Doritos, but your brain is telling you to get a granola bar."

You give him a once-over, slow, appraising, from feet to face, "My heart never says Doritos. But nice try." Your smile is easy and innocent, "You wanna try again?"

Wally smirks, leans in real close, fingers brushing your thigh along the hem of your shorts. Heat spears through him when your cheeks pink, perfect lips parting on a shivery gasp. Such a fucking sweet little thing. "What happens if I guess right?" He murmurs, the tip of his nose grazing your temple as he whispers in your ear.

Recovering admirably, you offer, "Maybe I'll be nice enough to share with you."

"And if I don't like your choice?" He smooths his hand around your thigh, settles below the curve of your ass, thumb stroking under the hem of your shorts. "What then, baby?" He feels himself twitch in his swim trunks, God, you smell good. Like coconut-vanilla and that kid shampoo he saw in the bathroom you share with Janet.

You pan your head in tiny fractions, slow-motion sensual, lips so close to his that he's breathing your air. "I guess you'll have to settle for good sportsmanship," a honeyed smirk, twinkling eyes on Wally's lips for a moment before they meet his gaze.

Wally groans, grin widening, grabbing a fistful of your ass and dragging you flush against him to make you feel the effect you have on him. "That's just mean, baby" and he murmurs, dark and heated, grinding his hips forward, "you saying you'd leave me like this?"

Without missing a beat, you rest your hands on his bare chest, rising on your toes to hover your lips over his, "Didn't your mother ever teach you that you're responsible for the messes you make?"

"Nah," Wally's grin sharpens, flicking his tongue against your bottom lip, "My mama taught me to ask for help when I need it." He grabs your ass with both hands, maneuvers to pin you against the side of the vending machine so he can lift you and grind his hard cock between your thighs. "And I really," thrust "really" thrust "need it."

Wally relieves the bench-rider twenty minutes later, a skip in his step and a ring of cherry lip gloss around the base of his cock. It isn't until he winks at you over his sunglasses that you remember why you went to the vending machine in the first place.

🧿___________________________

MASTERLIST

also available on AO3!

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z

[cannibalisticcorpse]

22, 24, or 26?

from this ask game

22. “Your lips are really warm.”

Charles smiles as he nuzzles his nose against Edwin's. They fit on the sofa together- just barely. "That's wicked," he notes, and Edwin scrunches his face as he tries to pull back, pressing his head into the sofa.

"Wicked? What's wicked?"

"Your lips, mate." Charles grins that love-dumb grin of his Edwin hadn't gone a moment without since Charles broke down and confessed his feelings. He shifts on top of Edwin, straddling his thighs and sitting up as he peers down at Edwin. "They're, like, really warm." His face flushed as he trails a finger over Edwin's lips.

"Are they?" Edwin asks in the most out-of-breath way he could. "Why might that be?"

"I dunno, mate. But, maybe we should take you to the doctor, huh?"

"A ghost doctor, perhaps?" Edwin teases, reaching up to cover Charles' hand with his own. His other sits idly on Charles' hip. "Might you fetch one for me?"

"What? Call the Cat King in here an' have him check you out? No thanks, you've got Doctor Rowland on duty." He shifts on Edwin's lap, leaning down to nuzzle their noses together again.

A warm beat passed between them, and Charles paused.

"You're ridiculous," Edwin teases gently and Charles swears he can feel the movement on his own lips.

"Can I-" He swallows. "Um. My lips are cold... Could I kiss you and warm them up?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

Charles lets himself melt as he presses his lips to Edwin's for the first time in over thirty years of wanting.

24. “This isn’t how I pictured our first Valentine’s day.”

"You fucking idiot!" Edwin screams, all of his frustrated rage condensed into those words.

Charles furrows his brows as his shoulders raise, his eyes lasered in on his shoes. He takes a breath and Edwin steels himself. This was it- this was when Charles snaps him.

Only... he doesn't. He turns his head to the side and says, "I didn't mean to get us trapped here." His voice is just as small as Edwin's made him and the empty white space around them seems to echo his words. His shoulders drop and he looks up at Edwin with teary eyes. "I never want to put you in danger! I thought breaking it would solve the issue, not open a new dimension! How could I have known this would happen?!"

Edwin squeezes his eyes closed as he takes a breath. "Did I think we'd be spending our first Valentine's Day together in a pocket dimension? No."

Charles sniffles as his tears fall down his cheeks. "I'm sorry, Edwin!"

"I know," Edwin says, and then he smiles. "I know you're sorry, I know you didn't mean to..." He takes a breath and steps up to Charles, petting his hands up Charles' collar to cradle his throat and jaw. "I apologize for my outburst, this simply wasn't how I pictured this day. I forgive you, though I have nothing to forgive." He presses their foreheads together and they take a breath together. "I love you, Charles."

"Ah, mate," Charles whines and pulls Edwin into a hug. "We'll find a way out of here, alright?"

Edwin hugs Charles back, and breathes out an, "Of course."

"And, for the record, I love you too, also."

26. “This reminded me of you.”

"What?!" Charles squawks. "What do you mean?!'

"Well, it looks like you. Or, it reminded me of you, at the very least." Edwin presents the taxidermied fox to Charles again. It's held in both of his hands, and he'd even draped a gold necklace around its neck. "You don't see the resemblance?"

Charles tilts his head to the side, eyeing the fox like he was considering. "Uh... I'm not... I don't think so, mate." He reaches a hand forward to boop the snoot and makes a kind of pulled-back face. "What in the bloody..."

Edwin sighs. "You don't enjoy it."

"I never said that," Charles rushes out, grabbing the fox from Edwin and holding it to his chest. "I love foxy, actually."

"I should have gifted you something more romantic. Niko was right."

Charles shakes his head, petting the fox protectively. "Nonsense, you know me best."

"What sort of gift does one typically receive for Valentine's Day?"

Charles shrugs. "I bought you a shopping cart."

"Bought or stole?"

Charles grins, and Edwin takes a breath of relief that he wasn't too upset over the gift. Nevermind the status of his own.

[addicted-to-the-knife]

I think it's very important that we bring back this inherent understanding that actors are also just some fucking guys (gender neutral)

[batcavescolony]

I was talking to an idiot and I need validation.

[crimsonmonsoon]

If you can’t tell I am entirely obsessed with this guy

[green-tea-lemonade]

C r o m c h

[raisinushigher]

fuck this show

[painalotwww]

[telesodalite]

Been thinking about idw1's outliers lately, and how sort of wild the whole concept is from a worldbuilding standpoint, and it struck me that most confirmed outlier abilities tend to be really useful, or flashy, or powerfully dangerous, and few to none tend to be like, really boring, or totally impractical, or even entirely useless? Which, doesn't really make sense when considering the fact that outlier abilities are seemingly random.

Surely not everyone who's born an outlier gets something useful?

And I don't mean like, "good" useful, but any sort of useful, even if that means you can kill people with your voice, or give a power boost by exploding yourself, those are still "useful".

But surely there had to be some with abilities that were totally impractical, or nonbeneficial, or at the very least just insignificant or purely aesthetic and pointless?