#nude grandpa

[novadoesartforfun]

CW : Partial nudity/male muscles

You know what..

*Anime Grandpa the rat*

I have no regrets

[jasonvoorheehees]

@texas-chainsaw-fanworks

Day 2, The Family House

“The wallpaper had yet to begun to peel from the walls as it would in decades to come, as the newlywed Mr. and Mrs. Sawyer stepped over the threshold. It would make for a fine family home for the future sound of the pitter patter of tiny feet to come.”

[tinystarbites]

accidents | Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: during a long case away, Spencer accidentally sees Reader's nudes on her phone and can't cope because he is a MESS for reader whoops [5.5k]

Warnings: SMUT MDNI, 18+ only, fem!reader, fluff, some angst mainly Spencer doubting himself aww :(, Spencer is PINING for you hard (haha get it), nudes, Spencer loves you so much, pls someone give him a hug, m!masturbation, talk about sex, proofread but prolly not perfect lol, like you aren't probably ready for the amount of longing in this, *slaps Spencer* this bad boy can fit so much pining and yearning

read pt.II here

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Spencer swears it was an accident.

You were all away on a case, somewhere in Florida. And of course, something like that can only happen in Florida, because as much as he dislikes connecting random events with random locations, non-sequitur fallacy and all that, he cannot not say that many of his most embarrassing moments aren’t attributable to the south-eastern state. (He will not elaborate on these moments, he very much likes to keep most of his dignity still intact, thank you very much.)

But his dignity isn’t really the only thing that had been shattered to pieces by… by the accident. Far from it really and it- well, it- God, this really won’t end well for him, will it? He’s well and truly, as Emily likes to say, fucked.

It happened on the fourth day he and the team were cooped up in a small, dingy police station, chasing down an unsub that liked to paint intricate body art on the victim’s corpses as part of his MO. Aside from, y’know, slitting their throats with what seemed to be an old, rusty saw. The paradoxical duality of these two aspects, of the interplay of carefulness and diligence put into the painting process and the absolute careless way the unsub ends his victims was fascinating really – but not as much as it is disturbing, still.

Thus, this case is a very photography-heavy one. Most of the cases they solve involve photographs of some kinds of course, but Spencer has never sat in front of quite as many pictures of art and gore in his life before. It was strange, to say the least, even to him. Strange and annoying, to be honest.

Because Spencer isn’t exactly fond of all things that come with some electrical inner life, i.e. smartphones, his old brick of a phone isn’t exactly helpful for this case. He still feels the need to roll his eyes at Garcia after she, for the umpteenth time, called him an old grandpa and his phone a potato trying to pass as a phone. And failing miserably, especially when looking at the pictures it takes and their quality. Well, Penelope would say “pictures”, because she would also say that a resolution of beneath 60 PPI should be considered a war crime against modern technology, but Spencer doesn’t know and doesn’t want to know what that even means, so. Jokes on her.

Well, actually, the joke is on him. And yes, he knows, the joke is almost always on him, he knows his pipe-cleaner physique and too big eyes and long hair and everything about him really, makes him the perfect target for the occasional bullying he gets still as an adult, but he’s used to that. It’s normal, part of his everyday life. He can deal with that (more or less).

What he so brilliantly cannot deal with however, is having you around him almost 24/7. Because Hotch had had the amazing idea of fixing you to his hip as his personal photographer to circumvent his technological potato-problem. Uh- not that you, that you take pictures of him, why would you ever do that, but more like, taking pictures for him. Of their victims. And the body art.

Spencer was actually waiting for your protest, because there seems to be nothing worse for you than to stay inside the office when you could be out there, on the fields, in midst of all the action. Where Spencer usually isn’t. But that’s fine of course. Completely, absolutely fine. Spencer doesn’t look up every time the door to the tiny room he’s set up his camp in opens to see if it’s you bringing him another coffee just the way he likes, if it’s your smile that will make him feel more energized than any overly sweet coffee ever could. If it’s your voice and smell and aura (Penelope is definitely getting into his head) that for the short while you are there, makes everything seem so much more manageable.

It’s an energy burst unlike any other and Spencer is aware of what that means, so aware his body burns with it sometimes… Often. Okay, fine, most of the time. He just prefers to ignore it and enjoy the precarious friendship he built with you for what it is because he just likes to have you around so very much and – this was so not the point he wanted to make. He’s hopeless, when it comes to you, and it really is kind of embarrassing.

So, this is why the joke is so entirely on him that it’s not even a joke anymore. It’s basically bullying, he feels bullied. Because you actually had beamed the prettiest smile he’s ever seen at him, said ‘Oh finally, I can unpack all the dark hidden talents from within me’ which was so cryptic but so you and then you also winked at him. And well, Spencer has to lie if he were to say that he was being totally normal about this. That you didn’t just upheave his insides like an earthquake of magnitude eight with a single wink. Oh, he’s in so much trouble.

The first two days the two of you work side by side proceed without any unforeseen occurrences. And Spencer is so glad about that he could cry. From the moment you had joined the team two years ago, from the moment he met you, it was an undeniable fact that you were nice. Not only that, but truly, selflessly kind in a way that has left him all too choked up to even speak on multiple occasions now. The team is nice to Spencer, of course they are, they’re his family. But nothing in the entire world could have adequately prepared him to the spring of kindness you so freely distribute to anyone willing to receive it. And god, Spencer is willing. Is it every time you listen to him ramble on and on, unable to really hold his tongue despite the embarrassment clouding his cheeks darker. Is it every time you ask him about the book he’s reading, every time you ask him how his mother is doing and just- all these tiny things that add up and completely smush his brain into a fuzzy mess of warmth that leaks down his body.

He literally could spend every minute of every day just sitting next to you and soak up your presence and he would be the happiest person alive. That’s why he cherishes your friendship to him so strongly, and that’s why it’s the worst thing that Spencer is, well, himself.

He knows that you would probably be too nice to outright state that something he does unsettles you. Changes the way you think about him. Still. There is the worry. Buried so deep in his mind it’s as if he was born with it. And that’s why he’s so relieved that he is keeping the worst of the ‘Reid effect’ at bay while working with you on this twisted painter case.

It all goes well, until it doesn’t. Of course. Good things never seem to last for Spencer.

It’s already later in the afternoon on the fourth day you are working the case, no end in sight, unfortunately. Spencer is bend over the table, hands entwined in front of his mouth as he’s staring down the printed pictures of the unsub’s latest victim from three days ago. The brushstrokes seem remarkably stable, the colours uncannily vibrant. Spencer does not know much about art, but he does recognise talent when he sees it. And this unsub seems to have it in abundance. It’s almost a shame he’s a deranged killer. But oh well.

He jumps in his seat when the door to his room abruptly bangs open and a dishevelled looking you is bustling into the room.

Your expression turns apologetic. “Oh Spencer, shit, sorry. I didn’t wanna startle you, but they just found another victim.”

And oh. Spencer feels his heart sink in his chest. Guilt tugging it further down into the abyss. Why wasn’t he faster with figuring out these paintings?

“Really? Where?”

You immediately launch into a rapid-fire list of details, all in the wrong order because you do tend to be a bit all over the place. Spencer doesn’t mind. Gives him a bit more of a challenge to order the information in his brain the way it works for him. You two work surprisingly well in that regard.

While talking, you round the desk that almost takes up all the little space available in the room. You sit in the chair next to him, so close he can feel the stressed warmth radiating from you and it takes a very good portion of his brain’s capacity to stop his hand from reaching out. Or do something else even stupider. More stupid? Oh hell. It’s a wonder he can talk in complete sentences with you.

He watches you pull out your phone, fingers typing in the passcode he guessed right after two weeks of knowing you. The indignant expression on your face had been adorable. That’s why he still guesses your new passwords weekly, just to mess with you a little bit. Because he’s apparently insane like that.

“Here”, you turn the display of your phone towards him, “Precinct’s out of ink. Do you mind looking at the pictures on my phone until I come back from the store?”

This is where Spencer should have said no. Declined politely, smile on his face. Tell you that sorry, I don’t really get the same detail on screen like on a printed version. Should’ve emigrated to Tristan da Cunha, change his name to Ferdinand. Whatever. Anything, except say, “Oh, of course. That’s no trouble.”

You smile that breathtaking smile of yours, fingers touching his slightly while giving him your phone. Spencer sucks his lower lip between his teeth to keep himself from making any kind of noise at the tingly feeling skittering down his back.

He can’t not smile back at you. It’s one of his many weaknesses. Jello, trying to out-solve himself every day with New York Times’ new crossword puzzles, dairy. Halloween themed socks. Old obscure movies no one has ever heard of. Reading the most difficult books in twenty minutes. You.

Once you left, Spencer starts diligently going through the photographs of their latest victim. Not yet identified white male. Average height, average weight. Short-buzzed sandy brown hair. Striking blue eyes that seem to stare at him accusingly even after death.

He works through approximately forty pictures taken off the intricate and detailed body art. This time, the unsub left many smaller paintings woven in a bigger, overall painting. There’s still one that Spencer hasn’t seen a close up of, that’s kind of hidden behind the victim’s ears. Maybe you saved it to a different folder. He clicks around your gallery for some time, opening and closing folders full of holiday pictures. Pictures of you, smiling, at the beach. A folder full of memes that he doesn’t get but is familiar with because you keep sending them to him anyways. Spencer is aware that he probably shouldn’t have just- perused your gallery like that. But he was in case-mode. Hyper-focused on finding the next clue, on detangling the next hint that would bring them further. That would finally be the key to end this case and bring justice to all the victims.

He isn’t really thinking, when he clicks on a folder titled ‘xxx lol’. Thinks it’s another one full of memes because of the abbreviation, but maybe you accidentally saved pictures of the case in there, wouldn’t be too out of character for you and-

Spencer sucks in a breath.

Drops your phone almost as an afterthought. The noise of it clattering to the table makes him flinch.

It lands display down. Small mercies and all that.

And Spencer is- he is-

… That was not-

Not -

There’s a weird buzzy feeling in his limbs, his chest and head. Like his blood turned into a swarm of bees. He feels like someone dumped a bucket of ice over his head and like he’s on fire simultaneously.

Okay. Okay.

That was not- pictures of the case.

Definitely not.

Oh Jesus Christ.

Spencer was definitely not supposed to see. That. Not supposed to see you- like that. Ever.

His heart is totally beating itself into a frenzy. There are at least two litres of blood rushing to his head. The other four are gathering somewhere down down down and oh. Oh shit.

Spencer is actually fucked. More than that. He wants to get fucked and that’s. Just. Even worse.

He wants to scream.

He ends up biting his knuckles and letting out a frustrated noise against his fingers.

Did he really.

Did he really just see your nudes?

(And yes, he knows that word. Penelope is a bad influence on him.)

His head is kind of a- a mess. More than usual when you are around. And… what. What does he do now? He can’t just- can’t just leave your phone like that. You’d obviously see what he was looking at and that’s just- unacceptable.

But the other option appears just as preposterous. Because, because, he’d have to look at your phone again. At you, like that, again. To get out of ‘xxx lol’. Damn you. Why did you have to be so unserious and name your, uhm, very personal folder like that? And no password-block?

Spencer feels a different kind of warmth enveloping him because it’s just- so you, silly and funny and kind of unbelievable and Spencer is so deeply in love with you that he feels like he’s going crazy with it. Of course, you’d be like that about stuff like that as well. Spencer would give everything to just once experience what it’d feel like to kiss you. To feel your lips twisted in a silly smile against his, flicking a finger at his ear because you would. Do that. When kissing someone. And okay. Okay. Spencer needs to get his shit together, like, yesterday.

You could come back any second now, actually and fuck. He needs to close the gallery app on your phone, asap.

His hands are trembling as they retrieve your phone from the table.

He allows himself a deep breath. And then. With eyes squeezed almost close, he taps the return arrow. Well, tries to. He thinks he managed to escape your nudes-folder without any hiccups but well.

Spencer is freaking inept with technology.

So. He finds himself looking at another picture of you and god, it actually might kill him.

It’s inappropriate. So so so so inappropriate. You would kill him dead if you ever knew Spencer was ogling your pictures like that. Like a perverted stalker.

But. But.

There shouldn’t even be a ‘but’.

But.

You’re just. You’re just- You’re incredible. Not even in a sexual way, just-

You’re so beautiful it hurts.

And call Spencer selfish, a pervert, whatever. Because he knows, okay? But he also knows that he’d never, ever get to see you like that. And it hurts in a different way now, because Spencer just wants. Wants you so much. You and you, just you.

But…he’d never get to have you. Which is fine, of course. Having you as a friend is actually one of the best things that ever happened to him, and he’d never do anything to endanger that-

…Well. He’s not perfect. So, sue him, for only once, giving into his deepest darkest desires. He’s only human. And pathetically in love with you. And attracted to you. Oh, he wants to be with you so badly. Wants to- wants to get kissed and held by you. Wants to make love with you, which just. Sounds so dumb and cliche. But maybe he just is that for you.

Still. He shouldn’t think how absolutely breathtaking you look, sprawled across the white linen of presumably your bed. He knew you worked out regularly, but. Spencer feels hot all over when he thinks how easily you could just. Manhandle him around. To wherever you wanted him. And this is something he apparently likes. (He consciously stores that information away for later. Later.)

He shouldn’t think how you would tease him, how you would make him beg for you before he’d even taken off his clothes. He would. He would beg for you, go on his knees. Everything, everything.

He shouldn’t think how warm and safe you’d make him feel, even after knowing he’s inexperienced in everything. You’d take his face in your hands, smile at him so beautifully he’d cry. Tell that ugly internalized shame to go ‘fuck off to Jupiter’.

Oh, he shouldn’t be looking at you like this. He shouldn’t, shouldn’t, shouldn’t.

But there’s always so much he shouldn’t do. Friends shouldn’t think of other friends like that. Friends don’t imagine how it would feel to be taken apart and put together again by their friend. Friends shouldn’t want to touch, touch, touch-

Maybe, for once, he just. Has enough of that. Maybe, he could just. Indulge. For a minute. To know what it’d be like. Just. A little.

To know what it’d be like if this picture was meant for him. What it’d be like- Be like to see you. And for you to see him. Like that. What it’d feel like to crawl into your lap, bury his face in your neck. Set his teeth on the gentle skin there and hear you gasp for him. How you’d bury your hands in his hair, and he’d make the most miserable noises until you pulled and-

Something in the corner of his eyes catches his attention and- shit.

Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit.

That’s you. Walking towards the door.

His hands are shaking so badly he has difficulties navigating your phone. But thankfully, this time, he manages to leave ‘xxx lol’ and find his way back to the evidence folder.

Oh god.

Oh god.

Did he actually- He actually-

The door springs open. Spencer startles kind of violently.

(Oh god.)

You have a big grin on your face. Some magenta ink smutched across your left cheek. And Spencer knows what you look like without-

“Heya, Spence, you won’t believe what just happened-“

(Oh god.)

“Uh… you okay there?”

His face feels like it’s on fire. His heartbeat is spiking and, well. He’s never been quite this turned on his entire life. He feels himself hard and aching against his trousers and Spencer wants you to push him down on the table and-

Oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god-

He needs to- leave. Right now.

“Fine”, he squeaks, voice all over the place and he cringes, “Just-“

He wags his hands around in a very confusing, general manner. Grabs some photographs.

“I need to- Need to. Bathroom”, is all he somehow manages, photographs surely placed in front of his, ahhhh, problem.

You look at him as if he lost his mind. He probably has.  “Oh-kay? Then… go?”

Spencer goes.

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Spencer can’t stop thinking about those pictures.

He’d known it would come to this. Him, lying wide awake on the uncomfortable hotel bed.

Having an eidetic memory has never felt more like a curse to him as now.

He buries his head further into the pillow. Fingers digging into it. Pulling his legs closer to him and, ah. That. Probably wasn’t the greatest idea of his.

He’s still- turned on. Uncomfortably so.But just thinking of taking care of that. Well. He’s 100% sure that that’s not the way to go about forgetting these pictures.

Also, it’s bad enough already that he even saw them. It would be so much creepier to jerk himself off to them. To you. His best friend. But- ugh.

It’s always kind of uncomfy for him to be away on a case. He prefers his own four walls over anything else, kind of, except maybe the university library. And now, being sexually frustrated away on a case that requires even more focus than other cases do?

Oh, Spencer is so fucked.

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You notice that something is off with him. It really would have been a miracle if not, because then Spencer would’ve had to question your profiling skills. But even then- he doesn’t think that you’d even need to have these skills to notice him acting off.

Because Spencer is so not the person to play incidents like that cool. He is painfully aware of that, thank you very much.

So, the next day, when you came to say hi to him (“Hey there, Mr. Doctor.”), after he basically ran off the day before, and you, as always, casually put your hand on his shoulder, Spencer, he-

He spit out his coffee.

He could feel you freeze through the hand on his shoulder. Your expression would’ve been comical if Spencer wasn’t dying.

“Uhh… Do you… Do you need a moment?”

Well, that was a freaking understatement. Spencer needs not a moment but all of them to try to get his act together.

…which he didn’t. Not for the rest of that day, and also not for the day after. And the day after. This case apparently will never end. Fucking Florida.

You, of course being the kind soul you are, tried talking to him.

(“Spencer, are you okay? You’ve been acting kinda-“

“What? What do you mean? I’m fine, completely.”

“Uhm… Sure. If you wanna talk about it, you got my number.”)

And well. Spencer feels like he is going insane.

It’s come down to him not being able to spend more than thirty minutes uninterrupted in your vicinity without getting semi-hard, because he knows. Without him almost doing something stupid and drop to his knees then and there and beg you to either forgive him or to please let him eat you out.

Ah, yes, because apart from being so frustrated he could scream, he’s also feeling so guilty it’s slowly killing him.

There you are, still being his absolute favourite person on the planet, unaware of what kind of person you are laughing with. Of what Spencer did. It was an accident yes, but- He should’ve said something. Maybe warned you so that it would not happen again. Ugh, but the more time passes the worse it gets. The more impossible it feels to just- go to you and say ‘ah, uhm, by the way, I saw your nudes and maybe you should put those behind a password block’.

Spencer is just- the worst friend. What friend doesn’t give their friend a heads-up about something like that? He’ so, hopeless, incompetent, and he gets it now why he didn’t have that many friends in school. 

It’s gotten so bad so quickly that the others started noticing too, obviously. It really is a curse working with profilers. Spencer should reconsider his move to Tristan da Cunha.

“What’s got pretty boy so worked up, huh?”, Morgan asked him on the day after the incident.

“Did something happen, Spence?”, JJ pulled him aside on the second day after.

“Are they cancelling Doctor Who?”, Emily, on the first day after.

“Kid, you need to eat something”, as Rossi pressed a protein bar into his hands.

Even Penelope texted him.

is it what i think it is? ;))))))

He did not dignify her with an answer.

When Hotch comes to him on the evening on the second day after, Spencer is a mess. He’s practically spent the entire day in some state of fluster. He noticed he’s trailing off when he’s info-dumping. That he’s just- staring off into space more often than he usually does. That he can’t talk to you properly without stuttering, that he avoids looking you in the eyes. So, it really was only a matter of time until their unit chief would scold him. Or whatever Hotch is here to do.

“Listen, Reid”, he says, tone of voice a little too similar to when he is talking to Jack when he did something mildly inconvenient, “whatever it is, and I don’t want to know unless it’s something bad, deal with it. We need you with a clear head here, okay?”

And well, that could’ve gone a lot worse.

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He still thinks so once he falls into bed that evening. But now-

Deal with it.

How? How should he deal with that? It’s not like he can just press the ‘Delete’-button in his memories. Thanks for nothing, Hotch.

His eyes strain from staring at the ceiling in the dark. Closing them doesn’t really help because all he’d see is you. He’s such a mess.

A pining, pathetic loser mess and he’s so hard again he can’t properly think. It’s just- Spencer has had rather inappropriate thoughts about you before. Has actually spent way too many hours in his apartment just lazing around, thoughts occupied on all the countless ways he’d like you to make him lose his goddamn mind. It had been kind of an accident (isn’t that just the story of his life), the first time it happened.

Spencer had almost been finished with his report, he’d just needed an additional detail from you to finish up. He’d asked Morgan where you were, and this is how he found himself walking down the corridor to Penelope’s ‘Dungeon’. Which, he’d never say out loud because that’s just ridiculous, right?

He saw the door to her office was slightly ajar, a mix of yellowish-red light splitting the hallway in half where it spilled out of the open gap.

There’s a giggle coming from inside the room and Spencer smiles- can’t help it really, because your laugh is just so absolutely ridiculous, a kind of high-pitched screech that ends in airy laughter and he’s so obsessed with it he wants to engrave it on a CD to listen to it again and again.

“No way, gorgeous, I don’t believe that”, Penelope whisper-giggled.

Spencer didn’t realize his steps slowed down, too curious by what you two could be talking about. And also, kind of forgetting that you shouldn’t just listen to other people’s conversations like that.

“Oh yes”, your voice was low, and Spencer would be lying if he said it didn’t send a tingle along his spine, “He broke up with me, but he came crawling back to me not even two months later because I apparently ‘ruined him’ for anyone else.”

Ruined him? What did you mean?

Both Penelope and you were laughing now, louder than before.

“You really, really gotta teach me your devious ways, buttercup.”

You snicker. “I guess it all boils down to making them come so hard they cry and forget their own name, really.”

Spencer didn’t get the detail he needed from you that day.

He’d gotten something much worse and that was curious. From the limited sexual encounters he’s had in his life before (a rushed hand-job somewhen in university in a toilet cubicle by that one other student he was into back then) he couldn’t really imagine something like sexual gratification that made one cry. Sure, getting himself off felt good. Sure, that orgasm had been fine. But… it could feel better?

He kind of didn’t think of that before.

So, when flustered-he had returned to his apartment after that overheard conversation, he kind of… thought about what these things could be that you did, to make others feel so good they lose the basic functions of their memory.

And the rest is basically history.

Of course, he’d never touched himself while doing… research about your techniques. It just felt- wrong. You are his friend and despite of his crush on you, it didn’t feel right.

But now…

He really really shouldn’t. But, he’s just so- desperate. For you and for things to go back to how they were. Without him almost bursting at the seams each time you look at him because before, he never had any problems with categorizing his mind like he does now.

So maybe… Maybe he can just… Do it once? Real quick, to get it out of his system?

The longer Spencer turns the thought in his head, the more… it seems like a good idea. You’d never know. Spencer could forget about- about the accident and move on. Solve the case and finally leave cursed Florida behind. If he just does it this one time, it’s not that bad right?

The fuzzy pleasure that shoots up his spine when he finally, finally presses his hand against himself through his pyjama pants answers him. Yes, yes, it says and more more more-

Spencer has never been good in denying himself things that make him feel good, better than good, things that make him forget about any pain that has nestled inside of his body or mind. Right now, that thing is you. Oh, perfect beautiful lovely you. He can’t stop the way his lips twitch into a smile, almost shy, even though he’s alone. But something about you just- 

He gasps, back arching a little when he slides the palm of his hand along himself, still through two layers of fabric.

Something about you just- god, how can he put this into words- something about you just makes him feel- safe. Seen. Taken care of. And it’s just, so foreign to him. Strange. He’s always been looking after himself. After dad left and mom-

He’s kind of addicted to it. To the way you make him feel. Spencer can’t get enough of it, can’t get enough of you. Never never enough.

His fingers trail circles around the head of his cock, light and unhurried, enjoying the shivers of good good amazing it sends through his limbs, to his fingertips. Spencer can feel the tension leaking out of him, can feel his muscles relax and his mind become hazy. He should do this more often, god he always forgets how good it is, it feels.

He almost forgets why he decided to get off right now. It had something to do with you. You. Naked and there, here with Spencer. He whines a little because you aren’t here, why aren’t you here he wants that so badly-

But all he has is the crystal-clear mental snapshot of your nudes. Spencer doesn’t remember ever remembering something with such clarity before. He feels kind of embarrassed by that, how obviously desperate he is for you. How he would do everything for you, with you. But this feels so good that he doesn’t care about any kind of embarrassment or shame that might trigger his self-loathing.

He increases the pressure of his palm slightly, oh god oh oh, it’s so good already and Spencer hasn’t even touched yet, not properly at least, but oh. Oh, he wants moremoremore-

It’s so easy letting his thoughts tangle, mixing old and new. Fantasies and reality. The you from the pictures merges with the you from his daydreams and oh shit. Oh fuck.

Spencer moans, high and needy at the back of his throat and god how are you so beautiful?

Imagined-you has absolutely nothing on the real you. Spencer could have never himself come up with you because he just lacks the imaginative capabilities to conjure the absolute vision you are. The vision you portray on those freaking pictures that have branded themselves into his very neurons. He’s sure, absolutely sure, that he will never get over them. Over you. Doesn’t even really want to.

Because he is quite certain that the sight of you, your stomach your thighs your arms your tits your- oh he forgot where he was going with this.

By now, Spencer’s hand has dipped beneath his pyjamas and beneath his boxers and he moans again, his lips pulled between his teeth and eyes shut because the feeling of good good better more almost peaks when he grabs himself, finally.

His right hand starts an even, slow pace along his cock because if he is only ever doing this once, he is going to make most of it.

It doesn’t take long for him to get close, though. He’s been so wound up the last few days, it really is no surprise. It’s actually more surprising he hasn’t come all over himself already.

Soft, keening noises are continuously spilling from between his lips, hips moving together with his hand because he just can’t help himself. The heat in his abdomen is building and building and he whimpers because he wants it to be you so so badly, his thoughts are a mess, he is a mess and he wishes he could be your mess, yours, yours to make a mess of and oh god he’s going to-

A knock. On his door.

He freezes, blood rushing loud in his ears, heart pounding and his cock hot in his hand and begging him to not stop but-

“Spencer? It’s me, can you let me in?”

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pt. II? 👀

[howlingday]

Camping Out

Jaune: Something wrong, Oscar?

Oscar: Uh, nah, just my neck, but it's nothing and- AGH! ACK!

Jaune: Better?

Oscar: Uh... Yeah! How'd you do that?

Jaune: An old trick my dad taught me.

Oscar: Get outta here!

Jaune: It's true! He was a field medic before he met my mom, and then when the war was finally over and peace was established, he settled down and had me and my seven sisters.

Oscar: Really?

Jaune: Yup! I got paper from Atlas saying I'm a field medic and a hide from Ansel saying I'm a medicine man. Halfway through the first one, I was drafted. One day, I'm sitting in the classroom, learning about anatomy from a book, the next I'm on the battlefield, learning about it from a man old enough to be my grandpa crying for his mother.

Nora: Hey! Oscar! Stop expositing Jaune's tragic backstory (trademark) and pitch your tent!

Oscar: Huh? But... I already did.

Nora: Ugh... (Tosses bedroll to Oscar) Move.

Oscar: (Watches as she fixes his tent) Uh... Yeah, sorry... I haven't gone camping since my aunt took me.

Ruby: I never got to meet your aunt. What was she like?

Oscar: (Sighs) Where do I start? She was like a mother to me. My parents died when I was young and she took me in and raised me on the farm. (Chuckles)

Ruby: What?

Oscar: Nothing, nothing... I just remembered this one time when I was a kid, I saw something shining in the dirt and I thought it was old shrapnel from the Color War!

Ruby: (Smiles)

Oscar: You'd think I'd found the discovery of the century the way my auntie went on and on, only to find out it was just a lock-pick fashioned from an old beer can back when the place was a Spiders territory.

Neo: (Giggles)

Oscar: ...Actually, Ruby, er, no offense, but how did you become the youngest chief mechanic engineer in... ever?

Ruby: It was supposed to be my dad going on this job, but he was retired so I went instead. It's funny because he always wanted boys. One to run his weapons shop, the other to be the middleweight kickboxing champion! But he got two girls instead.

Oscar: ...And... what does your sister do?

Ruby: She's twenty-four-null with a shot at the title next month. But me? I'm still saving up so my dad and I can open another shop.

Oscar: ...Oh, Qrow! Do you have your jammies?

Qrow: I sleep in the nude...

Jaune: (Tosses blindfold) You're gonna want this. He sleepwalks.

Nora: (Yawns) But as for me? I just like to blow things up~.

Jaune: C'mon, Nora. Tell him the truth.

Nora: ...My brother and I own a flower shop. We'd sell white roses, sunflowers, nightshades; you name it, we sold it. One day, I'm making about three dozen corsages for "PROM~", y'know, the kind you wear on your wrist? And everybody is losing their minds over it! "Where is it?!" "When is it?!" "Does it match my dress?!" (Groans) It's a nightmare! Anyway, there was a gas leak, or something, next door and BOOM! No more Mistrali laundry. Sent me clean through the wall! It was like a sign from the Brothers themselves! And I found myself that night.

Neo: (Leaps to the ceiling, Hangs like a bat)

Oscar: Uh... What's her story?

Jaune: Trust me on this one; you don't want to know! Ruby, don't tell him! You shouldn't have told me, but you did, and now I'm telling you, you don't want to know! (Blows out candle)

[tmrwds]

Sex=money lyrics + English translation

(Let's make sex money)

Seksi-Maunoi koko kööri Keikkamyyjä mun sutenööri Lelulaatikost tilpehöörit Kieli taittuu, skördi-fördi Poolopaita, housut, lippalakki tai nahkatakki Kaikki ne tippuu keikan aikana Se kyl jos mikä on varma nakki

Na-na-naku naku na-na-nakuna Koko perheen Käärijästä koko perheen krapula Pappa itkee, lapset kiljuu Mummo huutaa apua Ja terapeutin tilinauha kiittää

Mä aloin myymään seksii ku seksi myy Ku en mitään muutakaan keksiny Hypin rahasta pelti paljaana Kato parasta ei saa halvalla (x2)

Yeah, ah Täl alal ei sua kukaan huomaa Jos et osaa myydä ittees kukaa ei sua kuolaa Ah, jos pöytään pitää saada ruokaa Ei pelkkä vilahdus pyllyposkist oo kovin luovaa Siks tulin tänne

Na-na-naku naku na-na-nakuna Tää on tositarina, ei mitään iltasatua Pappa itkee, lapset kiljuu Mummo huutaa apua Ja terapeutin turbovolvo kiiltää

Mä aloin myymään seksii ku seksi myy Ku en mitään muutakaan keksiny Hypin rahasta pelti paljaana Kato parasta ei saa halvalla (x2)

(Make some noise!)

Sex=money Seksi on rahaa (x3)

Teen Onlyfans bägii Koko Suomen daddy Isompi ku He-Mäni isompi ku Danny Kadulla on kuumaa ne huutaa mua hätiin Kadulla on puuma mut mulla on jo täti (2x)

[chorus]

--

(Let's make sex money)

The whole crew is full of sex-Maunos The gig seller is my pimp Accessories from the toy box Language skills, skördi-fördi Polo shirt, pants, cap or leather jacket Everything will drop during the gig That if anything is a sure thing

Nude nude nude nude nude From whole family's Käärijä to whole family's hangover Grandpa is crying, kids are screaming Grandma is calling out for help And the therapist's pay slip is thankful

I started to sell sex because sex sells Since I couldn't come up with anything else I jump around bare-chested for money You see, cannot get the best for cheap (x2)

Yeah, ah In this field of work nobody will notice you If you can't sell yourself nobody will drool after you Ah, if you need food on the table Just a glimpse of buttcheeks is not very creative That's why I came here

Nude nude nude nude nude This is a true story, not some bedtime story Grandpa is crying, kids are screaming Grandma is calling out for help And the therapist's turbo Volvo is shining

I started to sell sex because sex sells Since I couldn't come up with anything else I jump around bare-chested for money You see, cannot get the best for cheap (x2)

(Make some noise!)

Sex=money

Sex is money (x3)

I'm making Onlyfans bag Whole Finland's daddy Bigger than He-Man bigger than Danny It's hot on the street they call out for my help There's a cougar on the street but I already have an aunt (x2)

[chorus]

credit: @ravensofskyhold for help

[punktactical]

i NEED a fic when the reader is ace or sabo's gf, but the reader is banging Garp behind their backs :33

With dirty talk, degradatior or whatever u want

ANGEL , sabo + garp

summary ; sabo loves his girlfriend! she could never do anything wrong ! unless . . . ?

warnings ; 18+ content , older man-younger woman , cuckholding , smut , slight degradation.

a/n ; my first completed request !!! hooray , thank you for requesting !! x))

★

★

sabo loved you, his sweet, precious girlfriend.

you were an angel, an absolute sweetheart. you did no wrong, in his eyes. i mean, the way you looked at his grandpa couldn't mean anything, right?

you were gorgeous, ethereal. everyone could agree, even garp !

he loved caressing your body, holding it close, encasing it under his own. but, where did those marks come from ? he doesn't recall giving them to you.

sex with you is passionate. you're always so excited. recently though, you seem so bored ! is sabo not good enough for you anymore ? or is there something else you're craving ?

. . . someone else ?

★

sabo jingled the keys in his hand, humming a small tune. he was excited to see you, but you didn't know, it was a surprise! he was going to enter your home without you knowing and surprise you! he smiled at the thought of seeing you, shocked by his sudden appearance, but not unhappy.

he closed in on your front door, pushing the keys into the slot. he could hear you from your room upstairs, yelling. maybe at one of your tv shows or games. you always got so riled up! laughing, he finally pushes the door open, before shutting it behind him. finally inside of the house, he can hear another voice.

it's gruff and low, much more raspy.

it's familiar but he can't put his finger on it. he shrugs it off as one of the character's from your favorite show. creeping up the stairs, he snickers, thinking about how you'll shriek upon him arrival.

the voices become louder the closer he gets to your room, he can't understand what they're saying as the sound of skin slapping drowns it out. banging on the walls resonate throughout the house.

man, what was your show even about?

he finally reached your room, placing his hand on the doorknob. he couldn't wait to see you. his girlfriend.

his sweet, precious girlfriend.

he turns the knob, the door opens.

"hah- it feels s'good!! want yer cum s'bad!"

heart dropping alongside his jaw, sabo is forced to witness the horrifying sight of his grandfather, garp, railing his sweet, precious girlfriend, [y/n], from behind, balls deep inside of her. the bed rocked back and forth, hitting the wall repeatedly.

did the door opening stop you? no, it only fueled the both of you more.

"b- baby? ah, i didn't know you'd be- visiting, fuck!"

you currently had your ass in the air, while your head was being pulled by your hair, garp's rough hand trapping it into a forceful ponytail.

your face was stained with tears, mascara runny and lips puffy, pink -

. . . sabo always loved that expression.

"shit, ya enjoyin' the view, sabo? come get a closer look, boy- fuck." garp growls, grabbing you by your neck and displaying your nude body to sabo. you whimpered, looking him straight in the eyes, never breaking eye contact. he could see garp's cock pumping in and out of you, a white creamy ring surrounding the base of his dick.

sabo breathed heavily, sweat running down his cheek. why did his pants feel so fucking tight? this should be disgusting, enjoying- watching his grandfather fucking the brains out of his girlfriend.

what could he do? the only thing he could do  . . .

his hand traveled to his crotch, rubbing his dick through his pants.

he couldn't help taking a step closer, finally unzipping his pants and freeing his cock. the tip was red, already leaking with precum. garp grinned, stretching you deeper. shrieking in delight, you wriggle in his grip. sabo's hand grasps his dick, pumping slowly. was he gross? was he sick?

to be getting off to the sight of his girlfriend being fucked by another man, even worse, his grandpa?

"ya like that, huh? you like this fat cock fuckin' ya good right in front of yer boyfriend? dirty little whore- shit."

such degrading words, sabo would've never dreamed of saying those things to you -

his sweet

precious

girlfriend.

( who was secretly sleeping with his grandpa - woohoo ! )

★

[em1e]

sleepovers | finding alone time with shinichiro is hard ..

⿻ mini series ft. you dating shinichiro and whatever chaos that comes from that !! ✕ cute fluff !! suggestive ♡ series m.list

it had been a while since you and shinichiro got some alone time, honestly. 

and shinichiro really couldn’t blame his siblings for it. officially introducing you to them made spending time with you easier. you didn’t have to sneak around his house at the odd hours of the night, he didn’t have to silence your giggles with kisses so you wouldn’t get caught - but his siblings really liked you. 

they enjoyed being around you to the point of you spending more time with them than him, and he’d have to practically drag you out the door when his grandpa would get home for a few minutes of peace without them. 

tonight is no different with his grandpa being out of town, mikey requesting sleepily that you tuck him into bed while shinichiro carries an already sleeping emma from the living room to her own bed, and when you both meet back with each other in the hall, he gives a tired sigh. 

“they’re a lot.” he groans, leaning most of his weight into you when you pull him towards you for a hug. 

“but they’re cute and you love them.” you argue, standing on your toes to place a kiss against his jaw. 

he stiffens at the feeling. 

it’s been a while since the two of you had any alone time. 

and the way your fingers are dancing against his sides is driving him wild. 

“don’t start something we can’t finish.” he nearly groans, though he’s the one pulling you towards his room. 

“i can finish.” you hum out with a smile that has him faltering for only a second, and once he has you behind the safe confines of his door, he pounces on you with a kiss that’s all teeth and desperation and love. it leaves you wanting, craving, needing more with a whine while your fingers tangle in the front of his shirt. 

ten minutes is all it took to get you into his bed, fifteen for you to be on top of him, and twenty for a small knock to sound on his door, before it’s being pushed open quietly. 

shinichiro never knew he had such quick reflexes, flipping the two of you over and shoving a hand over your mouth to stop any sounds from escaping your lips. he uses the blankets and his arm to shield your very nude bodies from whoever’s standing in his doorway, looking over his shoulder to acknowledge them. 

emma, he realizes from the small sniffles coming from her. 

“hey emma, what’s wrong?” 

“had a bad dream,” she whimpers out, clutching the stuffed teddy bear he gave her two years ago, “i asked mikey if i could sleep on his floor b-but he said no,” another sniffle, “a–and you and (y/n) always have sleepovers so i wan’a join.” 

he can’t see it from the way he’s positioned, but he can feel the look she’s giving him. full of sadness and fear from what he can only assume is the scary movie the four of you watched earlier. he regrets letting mikey pick the movie from tonight. 

“okay, um . . .” he looks down at you, mouth still covered by his hand and eyes wide as saucers. like the mattress could swallow you whole and that still wouldn’t be enough to save you from the embarrassment, “go grab your blankets and stuff and we’ll make a big pallet in the living room.” he settles for instead, the fear of emma trying to climb into his bed with the two of you still naked very real when she hesitates by the doorframe. 

“okay.” she says finally after a moment, taking a step from the door and closing it behind her as she leaves. 

you let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding, while shinichiro falls onto his side to your right, deflated and defeated that he can’t have an hour alone with you. 

“we can never have sex here again.” you’re saying with such certainty it has him sinking further into the mattress while you are moving to pull on your discarded clothes. you throw his underwear at him as you tug on your shirt, and he grumbles about how his little siblings are such cockblocks unknowingly. 

and when the two of you meet emma in the living room, dragging blankets and pillows behind you, she already has a nice area set up for the three of you. he can’t even find it in himself to be really upset when the pink princess blankets and pillows and miscellaneous stuffed animals take up most of the space, leaving you and shinichiro to set your own items on top of everything. emma smiles when you settle beside her with shinichiro on the other side, curling against you when you make it known that you’re comfortable, and she’s back asleep in less than ten minutes. 

shinichiro leans over her to give you a soft kiss, all desperation left in the doorway of his bedroom, before he lays down and is out cold soon after.

[octuscle]

We just had Veterans Day here in the US. My grandpa was in the navy and I was wondering if there was a setting that could make me a big muscular sailor to honor his legacy.

You are in the process of taking family photos. For the Christmas cards. All of you with funny sweaters. You hate that. You look terrible. And the sweaters are itchy as hell! Thank goodness it's your grandmother who suggests you wear your uniform. You have to think for a second. What uniform? Damn, this Christmas shit is driving you crazy. Your navy uniform. It's understandable that your grandmother insists. She's so proud of you for upholding the family tradition.

Your parents, your siblings, your grandmother, all in the silly green, red and gold sweaters. You in between in the immaculate white parade uniform. How you would love to fill it out like your grandfather. He was a real beefcake and jarhead. You're still missing a few kilos of muscle.

The whole family breathes a sigh of relief when the photographer says that he now has enough pictures. But he asks you if he can take a few more pictures of you. Even in combat gear. And if you'd like to earn a few more dollars, you're welcome to do so without your combat gear. He grins almost insolently.

You've wanted to join the Navy for as long as you can remember. To make your grandfather, whom you loved so much, proud. He would be so happy if he could see you today. And even if the photographer would certainly like it otherwise, your pants stay on. You are a soldier. And not a nude model. Even if you could be a damn good nude model or porn actor. But you don't show that to the crisp fellow until the camera is off.

Picture from the photo shoot found @steelblade

[tobbesdiscordkitten]

Guns N’ Roses Fic: Touch Too Much

Summary: You decide to take the lead and become the dominant one in the bedroom, stimulating Duff to the point of no return.

Characters: Duff McKagan and (female) reader.

Pairing(s): Duff McKagan/female reader, Duff McKagan/reader.

Rating: Explicit, 21+

Word Count: 2,034

Warnings: Smut, overstimulation, masturbation, forced masturbation, dom/sub, blowjob, and fluff.

A/N: could I request some smut for Duffy duff? Like maybe a sweet night with him then him getting so overstimulated and just keep going and going but in detail, I hope this is okay... mwah mwah ~ requested by anon. Enjoy! 💋

After eating a delicious, homemade meal of corned beef tacos, you and Duff laid in the bedroom, cuddling in each other’s arms.

“Your cooking skills are amazing.” You praised, ruffling his faded blonde locks behind his ear.

“Thanks, baby.” He kissed you on the lips in return. “My father taught me how to make it. It puts a twist on traditional Irish repasts in the family. Just don’t tell my grandfather,” he alerted with a wink. Duff’s grandfather had been long gone, but Duff suspected he was watching over him, in spirit, waiting to scold his ass in Heaven once Duff arrived at the Golden Gates.

You chuckled at his sense of humor. “I loved it. You’ve always been a rebel, even with the way you cook.”

“Thank my dad. Without him, I’d be a goody two-shoes like my grandpa, and I much prefer to be like my old man.”

“You eat better pussy than him?” You asked mischievously, switching up the subject but keeping the theme of food present.

Duff was taken aback by your sudden wit but found it amusing all the same. “You’re a minx, you know that?”

A belt of laughter escaped you as you playfully smacked his arm. “Answer the question!”

He shook his head in disbelief. “My mother’s a silver vixen,” he admitted. “But you’re in my bed which proves I get the best pussy of all.” He leaped forward, pinning you down on the bed, as he blew raspberries against your neck which heightened your arousal and tickled your sensitive flesh.

“Duff! Duff!” You begged, trying to push him away. His tickles were gonna be the death of you.

He smirked and pulled away, leaning his back against the headboard again. “Wimp.”

“I can handle a lot more things than you.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”

Scooting off the bed, you walked over to the footboard where your suitcase was propped open. Digging through your other clothes, you took out a lingerie outfit and sneaked it into the bathroom, away from Duff’s prying eyes.

“Wimp!” He shouted, proving his point.

“Shut up! You’d have a heart attack if you saw my nude form.”

He scoffed. “Doubt it.”

It didn’t take long to change before you opened the creaking bathroom door, revealing your accentuated figure. You wore a purple corset with black laces; your black panties were covered with a black, ruffled skirt; and your dark purple stockings were attached to the leather garters on your thighs.

Duff gulped. “Damn…” He knew you proved him wrong. He never suspected your body could look that good underneath all the clothing you wore, hiding your perfectly toned, slender legs, your perfectly shaped bosoms pressed together, your snatched waist, and your petite hips that could fool any man’s intentions of wanting to stick his length inside of you. What most didn’t know was you could take anything, big or small.

Taking your time with each, deliberate step, Duff watched in awe as you got closer to him, swaying your hips to the beat of nonexistent music that only played inside of your mind. “You like it?” You asked, spinning around for him. Duff observed the way your small, round ass jiggled.

Fuck, he thought. She has no cellulite, and her skin is soft and smooth like a babe’s. He was convinced you’d stay youthful forever and never age, your boobs would never sag, and your midsection would never lose its form or get pudgy overtime. You were the epitome of perfect and tonight proved it.

“Whats wrong, babe?” You interrupted, knowing full well what he was thinking. “Is it too much?”

“No! No, it’s perfect.” Duff’s mouth felt dry. He needed a glass of water - no. He needed a drink from you to quench his thirst.

Once you approached his side of the bed, Duff extended his arm out to touch your quad, only to have you smack it away. He rubbed his sore hand with his fingers. “Someone’s eager,” you noted. “You’re not allowed to touch.”

“If so, you might as well keep my hands tied.”

“Is that a suggestion or an order, sir?”

“You tell me.” Duff didn’t mind getting dominated by his women. It was thrilling to mix things up since he’s the one who always dominated and pleased others, including you.

“Got any rope?” You questioned, scanning the room for any type of bondage.

“Nope. Axl has all that BDSM shit.”

“Oh? Why don’t you ever borrow his stuff sometime, so we can play with it?”

Duff cringed at the thought. He was uncertain if Axl washed his toys after use. He hoped he did, but just in case if he didn’t, for whatever reason, Duff didn’t want to risk him or his girl getting an infection. “First off, gross. And second, I’d keep forgetting to return it. He’d whip my ass.”

You leaned closer, both your faces a mere few inches apart. “I can help you with the due date, babe.”

He never doubted your intentions for a second. “I’m sure you could, darling.”

“But bondage. Bondage, bondage, bondage, bondage.” You said, clapping your hands each time you mentioned the word. You looked at your suitcase again and an idea dawned on you. “Ooh, got it! You’ll love this.” You pulled out different pairs of your panties, each one sporting a different color, and brought them over for him to see.

“You’re gonna tie my hands with those?”

You shrugged in response. “Why not?”

“That’s the first.”

Using the white pair, you tied his right hand on the headboard while using the black pair for his left hand. “And now…” One more pair remained, a red one. You shoved the material underneath your skirt, near your cunt, sliding it against your wet folds.

Duff spread his legs wide on the bed, allowing his erection to form a tent underneath the sheets. You had such an effect on him - it was incredible.

You moaned as you pleasured yourself, drenching the panties in more of your juices. Then your moans turned obnoxiously loud, on purpose, and Duff couldn’t stand hearing it. He tried pulling his hands away but they wouldn’t budge. He had to remain there and listen and watch your every move, it drove him wild.

Removing the red panties from your pussy, you put the material over his mouth like a mask, looping the waistband over his ears for it to stay. He inhaled your arousal, licking at the wet patch. He couldn’t complain. You tasted so sweet and zesty.

“There.” Jerking away the covers, you saw his dick standing tall, leaking pre-cum. “Seriously?! I haven’t even touched you yet and you’re already making a mess!” You admonished.

He apologized but his words got muffled in the material of your underwear.

You smirked, relishing in the complete control you had over him. Unclasping your stocking from the leather garter, you hiked your leg on the edge of the bed, slowly rolling your stocking down, revealing your clear, smooth skin Duff desperately tried to touch earlier. He grunted at the view, licking more of your cream from the panties to appease him. You rolled the stocking back up, clasping it in the garter again. “Fits me like a glove.”

To your surprise, Duff shot cum onto the bed. You didn’t realize how powerful your words could be until now.

Duff groaned as he sank further into the bed, his dick twitching.

“You know, it would be a shame if you kept cumming back for more,” you teased.

He rolled his eyes at the pun.

“Perhaps I could touch you to relieve some of your…impulses.” Picking up a white quill pen from his desk, you ran the feather over his thigh, causing goosebumps appear on his skin. “You like that, don’t you?”

Duff nodded, bucking his hips to indicate he needed the feather on his length.

“I know, baby. I know,” you cooed. “I’m getting there.” You ran the feather over his hip until you stroked his cock up and down with the quill. His breath hitched at the sensation. You continued stroking him, watching his dick grow a few inches taller than before. “Think you can cum again?” You asked.

Duff squeezed his eyes shut and nodded, cumming once more when the feather brushed over the head of his cock.

“Good boy.” Setting the quill down, you climbed on the bed and gripped Duff’s cock with your hand. You could feel his length pulse in your palm. He shifted his hips, or maybe he was squirming, you couldn’t tell, but either way…you enjoyed seeing his overstimulated-self being tortured by your wicked foreplay.

Your hand started pumping his shaft up and down, causing guttural moans to spew out of his throat. You pumped a little harder, and faster, as you watched him pant, curling his knuckles into fists on the headboard, banging them into the wood. “That’s it, Duff. Don’t hold back. Give it to me.”

He groaned, milking your hand in his sticky mess.

“There you go.” You cleaned it off by licking your hand, tasting his warm spent.

Duff whined when you did that. “No more, please. No more.” He pleaded through the material of your panties.

“Come on, Duff. I thought you were stronger than this?” You mocked.

He shook his head in defeat. “You win.”

“Giving up so easily? I’m shocked.”

To be fair, Duff’s cock looked pretty beaten as it was red like cherries and swollen. If he came again his entire dick might explode. You knew that wasn’t possible, but Duff couldn’t handle a few more orgasms. He could barely withstand another one, yet you’d help him reach the other side.

“Take a breather.” You said, removing your panties from his mouth, allowing him to breathe the fresh, cold air in the bedroom without a damn pantyhose filter. “Be right back.” You went into the bathroom and opened a drawer, finding the exact spray you needed - a dry mouth spray. You sprayed a few doses into your mouth and waited until you felt your mouth become numb. This stuff helped you not gag on any cock and would only help you deep throat it. You walked back to Duff and situated yourself near his penis.

“Baby,” he urged. “I can’t handle-“

“Yes, you can. I know you’ve got one more in you,” you encouraged. Wrapping your lips around the head of his cock, you slowly moved down, engulfing most of his length into your mouth, before pulling up. You did this a few times as a warm up to lubricate his dick with your saliva and to help Duff ease into it. Afterwards, you started bobbing your head up and down while swirling your tongue over his head, dipping the tip into his hole.

Duff seethed out a multitude of curse words, trying to curl himself into a ball, but with no luck due to his restraints. He tried pulling on the panties again and felt a crack in the wooden headboard.

You continued your relentless attack on his cock, licking upside his length, and sucking the life, or the rest of the semen, out of him.

Duff squirmed, whining. He was close to being on the brink of tears. His vision started to blur and he was certain he was seeing stars until…he released a big load into your mouth, spraying your throat with thick ropes of cum. You swallowed every morsel, like milk, not daring to let a drop slip out of your mouth. You pulled away from his dick with a loud pop.

Duff collapsed on the headboard, panting. Every fibre in his body tried so hard not to be vocal. His chest was red from trying to hold in his moans, groans, whines, and whimpers. He took it like a man. Or…at least he thought he did, despite his complaints. “No more…” Duff muttered, looking like he’d been crucified with the way his arms still hung on the sides of the headboard with your panties wrapped around his wrists.

“Too much?” You asked, satisfied that you could please him so well.

Duff didn’t say a word but you both knew, deep down, that it was a touch too much.

Taglist: @hollywoodroses, @axlsyndrome, and @nenynra!

Side-note: if anybody else wants to be added on my taglist for certain eras/characters, let me know!

[flowerwiththemachinegun]

Send that man some nudes???

Hojo, Vincent, Tseng

Description as of July 13th: I dunno, Hojo makes me wanna find someone’s grandpa and get filthy with him on the retirement home floor. Random shit I typed out because Hojo deserves a hoe. Written cause I obviously deserve to be the one sending him pussy pics. 

I started writing this a while ago and never expected to finish because of Vincent but it was only due to a post I’ll put at the end

*Hojo x Reader (Hints of SephirothxReader and ReevexReader)*

Having an arsenal of explicit pictures to blow up Hojo’s phone is a Hopefully our favorite sick fuck is in the middle of another meeting. Propping your phone up and setting the timer, you quickly get into position. Bending over, pressing your hand into the bed to keep yourself balanced, bringing your knee on the bed as though you were about to start climbing in, the other arm coming around to spread your ass open. Taking nudes is hard work, if only Sephiroth would help, but then he’d ask what they’re for considering he isn’t today's recipient. 

The sound of the camera shuttering grants you permission to move out of your pose. Grabbing your phone to admire your handy work, making a mental checklist of what you wanted to send him. 

He couldn’t possibly be doing anything decent with his time anyhow. A new test subject? Dissecting one of his recently passed abominations? Another meeting with Rufus that Hojo couldn’t care less about? He would be playing on his phone or tablet despite the urgency of any meeting as long as it doesn’t regard his research. These are all perfect times to toy with your beloved psychopath.

With your wonderful timing, not at all due to snooping through Hojo’s belongings while he left you in his home alone, you’ve spotted his schedule. So you know he’s just in another shitty meeting. You feel the need to brighten up his day, sending a multitude of explicit pictures to his phone. 

Don’t forget a little something for Reeve. Who would surely be sitting next to Hojo as always. You knew he couldn’t help but glance at whatever Hojo may have been doing next to him. You also know Reeve happened to see a few of these messages before. A video of you splayed out on the bed. Legs wide open as you lazily tease your fingers over your entrance, aimlessly dancing around your clit, teasing yourself for their excitement. Your moans are captured on the recording as you give in and apply pressure to your clit, rubbing yourself in a way that causes you to lose yourself in a daze of lust until your coming undone. Shoulders pressing into the bed as you arch your back at the sensation of your orgasm wracking your body. 

This is going to make for a wonderful distraction from their meeting. 

*Vincent x Reader* (yea you’re with avalanche and co)

So you finally convinced the man to get a phone. Something you've been encouraging him to do but hasn't come into fruition until now. It was a bit of a silly reason maybe. Often not being able to fall asleep most nights, constantly awake until the break of dawn. A few of these occasions you had the convenience of coming across Vincent during your night time prowls of whatever town you and the gang. These nights he would keep you company, sometimes sneaking into your room with you. Holding you until you fall asleep for the night before slinking away before the other girls woke up. 

Your selling point was your inability to contact him the nights he wasn’t conveniently lingering around. Begging him with not only your words, but your eyes. There was no way Vincent could say no to that sad puppy dog face you gave him. 

The only problem being he could hardly use the damn thing. Technology has appeared to change a lot in the span of time Vincent’s spent in his coffin. The one thing he could do was answer calls. Other than that, the screen seemed hardly cooperative and he couldn’t tell what a majority of these silly bright icons were needed for.

What Vincent knew for sure was that you sent him a message. How to check it when you were nowhere near to guide him through the process? No worries, Vincent is sure Cloud can help. 

Bringing the tiny device to Cloud, stating his problem, asking if he could teach him how to view his messages. Unlocking the phone and navigating to your latest message caused Cloud to practically choke. Never in a million years did our spikey blonder warrior expect to see one of his comrades spread out like a meal. Cloud tried to tear his eyes away, but he can’t, and now he’s certain he’s seen much more of you than god has. 

As Cloud’s face turns a dangerous shade of red, eyes widening at the content he was incidentally provided with, Vincent can’t help the rising curiosity. Rounding Cloud so he could peak over his shoulders, nearly gasping at the sight of his phone. Without hesitating another moment Vincent snatched the phone out of Cloud’s hand. Frowning in displeasure as he tucked the phone into his back pocket. 

“So you were just going to stare?” 

Cloud’s reply was sheepish, not even making the slightest effort to hide how his gaze lingered over the images far longer than what anyone would be comfortable with. “I uh…Sorry.” 

Vincent would handle you later. You might like it or you might love it. 

*Tseng x Reader (more meeting nudes? Pre-existing relationship?)*

Cheesy? Cliche? Yea this is that but so are all of them.

Tseng just looks so bored during this meeting, obviously lost in thought as he tries to focus on the words Rufus proudly proclaims his vision for the future of Shinra. Again. Giving out the same bullshit speech about how things will change within the company now that his father is out of the picture. Being ‘flamboyantly Rufus’ as ever. You were tired of it too.

Shifting your gaze from Rufus you look back at Tseng, greedily taking in his gorgeous features. The gods really need to justify making a man so fine. 

Unprofessional, Tseng would call you at least for pulling out your phone during a time like this. Not that you cared, scrolling through your gallery for the pictures you took recently. Images of you clad in nothing but the lingerie Tseng picked out for you on a mission in Junon. The lacy undergarments caught his attention while passing by one of the many shops littering Junon. 

Of course he wanted to see you in them, but the two of you haven’t been able to find much time together outside of quickies and sleep. So what would be a better time than now? Selecting an array of photos, sending them off to Tseng, not even attempting to hide your obvious staring. 

You knew the second he got your message, diverting his eyes away from the meeting to glance at his phone in a “discreet” manner. Waiting patiently for his reaction, watching as his face reddened and eyes immediately dart up to meet your mischievous smirk. 

Two could play this game. Your phone vibrating in your lap instantly catches your attention, nearly losing at your own game as you suppress a squeak of surprise at the images and videos flooding your phone. It doesn’t matter that you’ve seen these before, hell you were the person to take all of those pictures of Tseng seeing as how he wouldn’t take any risky pictures on his own plus you insist he needs something to entertain himself with while he’s away.

The videos? Those were new, watching as he teasingly rubbed his cock in front of the camera. The angle was awkward and you could tell he felt equally as off while taking the video. The visual of him drawing a deep, shaky breath captivating you further. 

In your distraction you hadn’t noticed Rufus’ ceased his rant to shoot a glare your way. Clearing his throat, Rufus demands you stay after the meeting to see what’s got your attention and to figure out what could possibly be more important than the current events. 

That comment snatched any smugness Tseng had for topping the content you sent him away. Replaced with a look of horror that anyone would have noticed if their attention were on him. The only thought racing through his mind is of Rufus discovering the pictures shared between them. Guess he would have to find out what happened with that situation when you get home.

[unreadpoppy]

send nudes

Raphael x Fem!Tav (modern AU)

Summary: Raphael is bad at sexting

A/N: This was based on a conversation i had between @flamemittens @sky-kiss and @sassyandsodone

Tav had finally manage to get the phone number of the man she had had a crush on for some time, Raphael. And although he was charming in real life, he text messaged as if he were in the 1800’s. 

Raphael: Tav. 

Come to my house at the eighth hour of the night. Let us enjoy a good merlot. 

Raphael.

Tav: You do know you don’t have to sign your messages, right? I know it’s you.

Raphael: Tav.

Are you coming or not. Answer immediately.

Raphael.

Tav: 🤦‍♀️I’ll be there in a sec. 

In the following months, he had gotten slightly better at not sounding like someone’s grandpa, but there was still room for progress. One time, while she was at work, Tav nearly choked on her coffee when receiving the following message. 

Raphael: Little mouse, bestow upon me that delicious mortal form of yours in pictorial format. 

Tav spent a good five minutes looking at their screen. Was Raphael asking for nudes? Then, another message appeared. 

Raphael: Perhaps if you were to grace me with your naked form, I would deign to reward you with a similar favour, pet.

Somehow, the follow up was even more confusing. She decided to consult with her friends.

Tav: Guys, help me. Raphael sent me some messages that I can’t understand

Lae’zel: I always knew you were stupid, but not understanding messages is a new one

Wyll: You are still talking with that guy?

Astarion: Don’t judge her, dear Wyll. You have had your history with…questionable partners. 

Wyll: 🙄you’re one to talk

Tav: Anyways, he sent me some messages but I’m having a hard time understanding them. Can you guys decipher it? 

Gale: Sure thing, Tav! Send them in and we’ll see what we can do. 

*Tav sent a photo*

Astarion: …

Wyll: …

Gale: …

Karlach: Is he… is he asking for nudes??? 

…

Meanwhile, Raphael’s phone was suddenly taken from his hands. 

“By the hells, what is wrong with you, Raphael?” Haarlep asked exasperated. “Just say send nudes and be done with it.” 

“I cannot be direct about this sort of thing, or else, where is the fun?” He tried to reason. 

Haarlep put a hand on their face and sighed. “You’ll never see tits if you keep talking like this.” They showed the screen to Raphael. “Look! The poor thing hasn’t answered in 10 minutes. I don’t think she even understood what you sent.”

“Tav is perfectly capable of understanding my way of talking.”  Haarlep typed something and then hit send. 

“Done. Let’s see if this works.” 

…

While Tav’s groupchat was becoming a mess over the screenshot she sent of Raphael’s conversation with her, she received another message from him. ‘Speaking of the devil’ she thought. 

Raphael: Send tits for cock. 

Tav immediatly forwarded that to the groupchat.

Tav: Karlach was right. It was nudes. 

Karlach: KNEW IT!

Shadowheart: Why is he suddenly so direct?

Gale: You’re not going to send him nudes, are you? You’re literally at work right now! 

Tav: That’s none of your business, Gale. And idk, Shart. Anyways, gotta go now, byee

Tav made a quick run to the bathroom and sent a picture she already had on her phone. It was a bit old but it would do the job.

*Tav sent a picture* 

Tav: I can’t send one from right now, but I’ll hope you’ll be satisfied with this 

Raphael: My, my, I am quite satisfied. You have a plentiful bosom, little mouse. Very well, here is your reward. 

*Raphael sent a picture*

Tav felt the blood rushing to her face when looking at his messages. She’d only hope she would get home soon. 

Raphael: As much as I would enjoy to continue this lovely conversation, I am afraid I have to leave. 

Tav: We can continue this once I get home.

Raphael: Of course. As you know, roses are red, violets are blue. I'm into poetry, but I'd rather be in you. 

Tav barked out a laugh from inside the bathroom. 

Tav: Oh sweetie, we’re gonna have to work on your sexting once I get there. Till’ later, bye.

Raphael showed his phone to Haarlep. “What is ‘sexting?’”

Haarlep threw themselves on a nearby bed, dramatically putting an arm to cover their face. “You are impossible.” 

[mychlapci]

hey there, so about that horny expansion of the TFA crossover

if there is a universe where autobots would faint at just hearing the word sex, it's TFA. most likely because Ultra Magnus and the council couldn't get bitches so they made a law that you need a permit or something.

now introduce a bunch of horny on main AU bots who have no such reservations. they are commiting acts of public indecency left and right and spreading it to the population by helping the TFA autobots discover their inner freak. there's a spike measuring contest with the AU bots acting as judges because they would win by default. someone definitely had sex with their counterpart because this is a once in a life-time chance so why not. the council has completely lost control of the situation.

the reason why Ratchet was placed on a repair crew in the middle of nowhere was probably to contain his foxy grandpa rizz but now that there's two of them they're an unstoppable force

AU Optimus probably talked TFA OP into teaming up to seduce Megatron. it worked, kinda. and by that i mean when Megs got sent a nude of the guy he has a hate-crush on and what apoears to be a bigger bulkier version of him, he got so hard so fast he passed out

Sentinel is either still busy crying in his broom closet or discovered he has a degradation kink when someone went on a tangent about how much of a piece of shit his counterpart was

and where's Ultra Magnus in all of this you ask? in the hospital after getting a spark attack when he found out his alternate is a bottom in the most direct way possible (he walked in on an orgy with AU Magnuses unit and even some TFA bots because who wouldn't want to fuck Ultra Magnus)

oh man this got buried… yeah, yeag the tfa bots are all prudes. they’re all painfully catholic. sex is to be had in the privacy of one’s dark bedroom, missionary only. no funny business. the autobots from other universes, though…

[marleyelona]

WELCOME TO...

[ LADY OF THE REAPER ]

A Tig Trager Fanfiction 

♤♡◇♧

'TIG & ELISE'

Synopsis

TIG TRAGER's life is turned upside down when his estranged wife shows up at the clubhouse one day, informing him his daughter is in hospital after she attempted to take her own life.

Shattered and heart broken, Tig immediately rushes to the hospital to be by his daughter's side, only to realise he hasn't been the best dad in the world.

With a new perspective and appreciation for his family, Tig wants nothing more than to rebuild what they all lost, while Annalise "Elise" Trager, who has built a life away from him and his club as a successful business woman in both the porn and escort industries, wants nothing more than for him to finally sign the divorce papers, so they can both move on with their lives.

LADY OF THE REAPER is a story about the woman who was crazy enough to fall for Tig Trager.

♤♡◇♧

'TIG & GRACIE'

" I was young—a sixteen year old high school drop out with a rebellious streak. And he was the older guy with a motorcycle—dangerous and mysterious—he made my heart race—adrenaline pump. Your grandpa didn't approve, which only made me want him more. And then, you were born...and reality set in. You can probably guess what happened next... "

♤♡◇♧

LADY OF THE REAPER | (meet the cast)

ANNALISE "ELISE" TRAGER 

(NATHALIE KELLEY)

42/Co-Founder & Owner of CaraCara Studios/Former Nude Model/Porn Director/A Madam/Successful Business Woman/5'7

CHARISE "GRACIE" TRAGER

(KATHERINE LANGFORD)

26/Troubled mind/Struggling Artist/Bartender/Single Mum of Twins/5'5

ALEXANDER "TIG" TRAGER 

(KIM COATES)

45/SAMCRO Member/Stg. At Arms/Distant Father/6'2

VENUS VAN DAM

(WALTON GOGGINS)

40/Trans/Prostitute/5'10

☆《》¤

ALSO STARRING...

THE CARACARA GIRLS

(LYLA & IMA)

THE SAMCRO BOYS 

(HAPPY & JUICE)

THE TWINS

(ELLA & ETHAN)

the rest of the Sons of Anarchy cast as their own respective characters

♤♡◇♧

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. All rights go to Kurt Sutter, FX and any others that made this amazing show possible. I do, however, own my characters, Elise, Gracie, Ethan and Ella Trager, and any other OCs I might add in the future, along with their backstories and their storylines within the show.

GRAPHICS: I MAKE the majority of the gifs that are used throughout this book, including the ones on this page. On occasion I will use gifs I find on google. Any gifs I haven't made, all rights should go those whom created them. I also DO the aesthetics, covers, tags and trailers that are made. 

CHANGES TO PLOT: Tig was never married to Colleen, therefore Dawn and Fawn do not exist in this story. 

⚠️TRIGGER WARNING⚠️: violence, coarse language, mental health issues, self-harm, suicide attempts/thoughts or tendencies, mentions of underage pregnancies, inappropriate relationships, toxic relationships, strong alcohol and drug use, criminal activity, guns, death or talks of death, mentions of sex work, LGBTQ, inappropriate racial slurs (things said in the show) and detailed sex scenes will appear in this book. 

♤♡◇♧

STARTED : March 17, 2025

ORINIGALLY PUBLISHED ON WATTPAD : March 17, 2025

PUBLISHED ON HERE : March 18, 2025

FINISHED : ongoing 

[severalowls]

An acrylic nude my grandpa painted as a student around 1960 which my auntie was going to throw away but an art dealer went "hmm I'll give you £20" to is now apparently being sold for hundreds and labelled as part of a now past art movement of the time. Its unsigned and the dealer definitely ripped either us or a buyer off, but its weirdly touching that it might end up appreciated somewhere...

[ur-littlestgirl]

ya I’m taking nudes in the grandpa sweater I thrifted the other day what about it

anyways wanna watch me put this in my..

(dm me to buy my content) 😇