#still not sure if i can say cunts in tags

[myownwholewildworld]

gif by @\watchbroken

“you ain’t falling asleep again” — an oldman!joel miller drabble

main masterlist pairing: oldman!jackson!joel miller x f!reader summary: joel takes viagra and can't keep it down. he decides you can help. and the glasses stay on. a/n: please everyone say, THANK YOU SYD @syd-djarin !! i wouldn’t have written this if it wasn’t for you! tysm for allowing me to be shamelessly feral and for cheering me on, you know i love ya <3 anyways, hope you guys like this drabble, i am ovulating. heed the warnings and enjoyyyy xx tags/warnings: 18+, mdni. pwp. filthy smut. the old man’s glasses stay on. breeding kink. consensual somno. use of viagra. brief reference to a limp dick situation cause it’s hot. period sex and descriptions of period blood. joel goes down to town on you (f!oral), so vampire!joel if you wish cause he loves it. fingering. unprotected piv. creampie. age gap, no age gap, your choice. no description of reader other than afab. unedited, soz, i'm horny and i wanted this out asap. w/c: ~1.8k

Joel resented you. Really did.

You were sprawled across his bedsheets, legs splayed without a worry in the world. And here he was, on the rocking chair facing the bed in his Jackson home, watching you enjoy your beauty sleep, while his cock beat hard on his calloused hand.

He’d definitely overdone it with the viagra. At the tender age of sixty-one, Joel sometimes needed a bit of help to get him going. The first time he’d remained limp on your hand, despite your best efforts, had really stuck with him. Truth be told, that hadn’t stopped you from sucking him off, giggling and drooling all over his dick. But still, it embarrassed him. So, when Joel had the chance to trade for some pills, he did.

And now he had to deal with the consequences of his actions. He’d been railing you all night till the first lights glittered in his room—your beautiful body bouncing on his cock while the light reflected off the sweaty drops kissing your skin. But unlike him, you were spent and in much need of some rest.

Joel, on the other hand, had not been able to go back to sleep. As soon as he heard your soft, cute snores, his veiny cock had hardened again. Unconsciously his eyes darted to the sweet nook between your thighs. He really had the best view from here, eagerly watching his spent dripping down your slick slit.

The chair rocked under him, his big hand palming the growing erection, his eyes roving over every delicious curve of your body. And then something caught his eye—the cum leaking from your pussy was no longer white, but a shade of pink.

Joel sat on the verge of the rocking chair, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose to have a better look. No, his old man’s sight wasn’t betraying him—you really were bleeding.

His cock had a mind of its own, reacting to the call of nature in the most primal way. Joel tugged at his shaft, squeezing himself tight while a pearl of precum adorned his flushed cockhead. Your period couldn’t have come at a better time. Joel thoroughly enjoyed himself when that time of the month arrived—a reminder of how breedable you were.

Joel stood up, throbbing cock on hand and his cracking knees betraying his moves. He couldn’t just stay put any longer—surely, you’d understand that he was compelled to do this. That he just couldn’t stop himself, not when you were freely bleeding on his white bedsheets.

You stirred a bit when the wooden floor creaked beneath his weight, but your eyes stayed shut. Joel tiptoed to the foot of the bed and carefully sat on the mattress. Up close, he inspected your cunt with diligence. Your pussy was still gushing out his pinkish cum, but he needed to see red.

Bunching the bedsheets on his fist, Joel swiped your seam clean, his thumb stroking your entrance through the fabric to ensure no remnants were left behind. Once he was satisfied, he laid on his tummy and moved your legs, so the back of your knees rested on his shoulders. Now he could really see your slick cunt up close.

Joel spread your pussy lips, coaxing them apart to stretch your crying hole. A few seconds later, he was gifted with a glob of blood. He thumbed your clit softly, coaching your cunt to leak some more period blood for him, and you quietly squirmed. Another red bubble dripped down your fold, smearing your sweet puffy lips, staining his sheets. His eyes locked in on your beating bud, and he just knew what he had to do.

Hypnotised by the sensuality of it all, Joel leaned in and kissed your begging clit. The fingers that were stretching your lips open for him travelled down your glistening seam until they reached your bloodied opening. Without even doubting himself, Joel shoved his middle and ring ringers in your wet warmth, the squelching of your blood almost making him feel dizzy with lust.

Joel suckled on your clit, your thighs trembling against his ears, and then his mouth dropped. He removed his fingers from your tight hole and coated the skin of your inner thigh with your own blood while his tongue dived in.

Your pussy tasted divine. Metallic, fertile, slightly bitter. His favourite flavour, that was for sure. When Joel lapped your whole seam, from your seeping entrance, through your clit, to your mound, he felt your hand fisting his salt-and-pepper curls.

“Joel… What are you…” you trailed off sleepily, moaning as your back arched off the mattress.

Joel looked up at you, smirking like the devil he was.

“Just let me have this,” he almost implored, pecking the bloody fingerprints he’d left behind on your inner thigh.

“Are you… are you still hard?” you managed to croak out, eyes fluttering shut when Joel latched on your clit again.

“Mhm,” he mumbled, mouth full of you.

Joel alternated between fingering you and prodding your hole with the tip of his tongue, drunk with your iron-like tang, thumb pressing tight circles on your clit. And he truly didn’t stop until your legs were shaking uncontrollably around him and you were mewling your pleasure, your wails echoing in his bedroom.

With a bit more of encouragement, you finally came in his mouth. Joel didn’t hesitate to drink everything your cunt oozed out—the period blood mixing with your cream was his personal nectar. His favourite breakfast. He shamelessly licked your folds and hole clean, revelling in how your entrance quivered around the tip of his tongue when he poked at it.

Your mind was still hazy with the ghost memory of your wet dream, but Joel eating your bloody pussy out definitely had you delirious. This old man of yours knew no shame, no hard limits. And you loved him for it.

When Joel emerged from between your thighs, you gasped, and your pussy gushed. His beard was covered in your period blood, even his cheeks were smudged. And Joel just… looked so chuffed about it all, it made you smile back at him.

You glanced down at his lap when he knelt between your legs, his broad hands resting on your knees to part your thighs for him. His stiff cock greeted you, swaying and throbbing. He was about to fucking explode, so red and swollen, leaking precum everywhere—you truly feared for his wellbeing.

“Fuck, Joel…” You bit down your plump bottom lip, eyes focused on his dick. “How many pills did you take?”

“Two. I wasn’t sure if one was enough, needed to make sure I could fuck you all night long,” he admitted, tapping your clit a few times with his warm, tacky cockhead. “And then you fucking bail on me, falling asleep and leaving me hanging.”

Before you could defend yourself, Joel buried himself in you down to the fucking hilt in one smooth thrust. You braced yourself and grabbed at his forearms, back arched so much that your nipples were kissing his naked chest.

Without exchanging another word, Joel began railing you hard, his throbbing cock growing inside you, impossibly so. He filled your entire pussy, the tip of his dick kissing your cervix every time he hammered in. No thoughts formed in your brain, you could only moan and sob and scream his name so everyone in Jackson would know you were getting your guts fucked.

Joel imposed a punishing pace, anchoring his hands to the headboard while his hips slammed against yours, the clapping of skin on skin competing with your loud groans. His mushroom head dragged alongside your anterior wall every time he ploughed you, rubbing that precise spongey spot inside you that made your pussy hug him tighter.

You just managed to open your eyes and glance up at him. He was gorgeous, the most handsome man you’d ever had the pleasure to meet. And he was all yours.

With every plunge, his old man’s glasses slipped further down the bridge of his aquiline nose, until they caught on the tip of his nose. The glass was all foggy now, and you were almost sure Joel couldn’t see shit right now. The picture made you smirk, but his incessant shoves forced your mouth to shape a perfect O before you began moaning his full name again.

Joel was fucking you so hard into the mattress, the precarious balance of his glasses gave way, and the frames fell onto your chest. Without thinking, you snatched them to put them on back on his nose but then you thought better of it. Instead, you put them on and looked up at him with a sly grin—it was all blurry, but could still make out his face and feral eyes.

“Fucking beautiful,” he husked out.

You felt the pulse emitted by his girthy cock, and the threat of his orgasm called to yours. When the first ropes hit your cervix, you came with him, your pussy milking him dry of every single drop he fed you. Joel filled you up to the brim with his cum and not satisfied with it, he fucked his spent into you for a couple of minutes while your used cunt spasmed around him.

You were truly spent, laboriously breathing, your heart racing wild in your chest. Joel was heaving too, and his greying brows furrowed when his cock left your entrails.

You couldn’t help but look down—you had left pink creamy rings on his hard cock, a mixture of your juices, his cum and your period blood. And when you peeked over at your pussy, you sighed. Yes, your pussy was smeared red, your inner thighs too, and you were still bleeding onto his sheets.

You should have felt slightly embarrassed, but knowing how much Joel enjoyed you on your period, well... there was literally nothing to be shy about. As a matter of fact, you had been waiting for this time of the month to come, because you just knew that Joel would be feral about you.

Letting your head fall back for a breather, you felt Joel pet your overstimulated clit. You whimpered a little, your nerve endings flaring alive, almost painfully, and your brows bunching together in concentration.

You managed to open your eyes again, and then you realised. He was still hard. Very much so.

“You ain’t falling asleep again,” he groaned, pointing an accusatory bloody finger at you. “‘M not done with you yet, sweetheart.”

He was right. Joel didn’t let you.

[digiblueslush]

a duck. I used to say "stingray" every time because they're my favorite animal, but i think being a duck would be the best animal to be. You sit in a lake, thats probably man made. you waddle around. you float there. theres drama but its nothing too offensive or draining. its literally taking it easy.

whatever I was already wearing (hot take I KNOW but the idea that you can only wear clothes once before washing, or you can't wear the same clothes 2 days in a row is absolutely crazy. I wear the same outfit for a full 2 days before changing (exceptions with socks and underwear) and I don't understand why people think thats something so disgusting. Like unless your constently working outside or working out or extremely messy and dirty, your clothes are still clean. pretty sure this idea was put out there just to sell more clothes lolz #ihatecapatilism

vampire 100%. I too follow very particular rules, feed off of other people's resources, and mentally serve cunt 24/7 even when im just sickly and wearing black

in actuality, i have this cool collection i wear called "PJs". one of a kind, top secret, never for sale. If i had the money, sensory tolerance, and energy, id probably go for something like cyberpunk. Emo and frutiger aero are pretty much opposites, so i think cyberpunk would be a good inbetween.

regular milk. i can fuck with oat milk every now and then, but i can't ever care too much about finding a "good brand" of milk. plus when im feeling 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 and want a plain glass of milk (or 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝓲𝓮𝓻 and want a glass of milk with ice in it) plant milk will never hit IM SORRY ITS JUST LIKE WHAT AESTHETICALLY HAPPENED TO MCDONALDS IN FLAVOR FORM. WHY IS MY MILK MATTE?

cereal. milk first makes no sense

for silly hahas, grabbing someone by the ankles and spinning around super fast in a circle and then they kinda go horizontal and i let go and they go flying and hit their head in. For something that follows the rules of physics and my strength levels, i think secretly blood letting someone would be kinda cool. it'd take a long time but unless you were very evidently up to no good, it would just be super severe anemia. No true injuries, no poisons or anything. blood letting!

TY FOR THE TAG!! doing this on my personal so yea! tagging: @fishermansfriendsworld @radiowave-slushie @rubes2do @satanicjamanic @lessthanpog

yk what I'll also do this get to know your mutuals cuz I thought bout it for a bit and I think I have to or I'll explode

get to know your mutuals♡

if you could be any animal which one would you choose to be? (can be fictional) (and you can explain why if you want to)

what would you choose when you're in a hurry and have nothing to wear?

are you a witch, vampire, fairy, dryad, siren or a mermaid and why do you think so?

what is your style?

regular milk or plant based milk?

which one do you put first milk or cereal?

fav way to kill someone? (idgaf if you never thought of it now you have to think of something and make it at least a bit cool I'm begging)

and I'll go first cuz I can

girl I wrote kinda a lot in these answers but I just had to brag about my fav way of killing people🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ and okay maybe it's kinda stupid that I'm also doing this game even tho I made it for others but who cares?

I can't choose but either a phoenix or a wolf cuz the allegory of both of these animals absolutely stole my heart

anything in my wardrobe that looks good (and it's almost always not adequate for the cold weather, I literally can wear a mini skirt when it's like 2°C outside and there are times when I am wearing a mini skirt and a crop top when it is 0°C and even when it was -3°C I don't care)

something in between vampire and a dryad cuz I feel like I would be a good vampire I don't know how to describe it but I just know and that's it and also a dryad cuz when I think of them they give me rather a messy and chaotic vibe which is def how I act and overall express myself so I'd say that I'm sometimes both sometimes one and sometimes the other

I'm goth so my style is overall gothic and / or cunty

regular but only 1,5% fat

CEREAL

sooo this is my fav way, first - pepper spray in the face so they can't see and therefore they can't run away, second - start scratching their legs with a pocket knife as hard as possible and try to find an aorta and cut there (making it even harder to run away), third - stick the same knife into all of their fingers (why not), fourth - knock out their teeth with a knuckle duster and finally - when they open their mouth trying to catch a breath from the blood and saliva running into their throat pour fluoroantimonic acid into their mouth and it's done! and I'll add that fluoroantimonic acid is called the most corrosive acid in the world ans if it touches the skin it causes huge damage and if poured into someones throat it'll burn the insides and kill. I think I'm really creative cuz I came up with this when I was writing one of my books and now I'm obsessed

tags: @n1eprzytomnadesperacja @niketas-s @r4tkisses @dawkacynizmu @gothicm0rph @slowacki006

and with question 7 rn I'm mostly thinking about one bbg ( @dawkacynizmu I'm looking at you ) cuz a bit after I came up with this question I thought that you might have an interesting answer

[secretagentsagainstwhatever]

Fuck first past the post. All my homies hate first past the post

[humanjarvis]

caught in a lie

synopsis: when you ignore caleb’s calls, he catches you trying to run from the consequences. you make a false promise to appease his anger, not expecting your lie to unravel. but almost immediately, it does.  

tags: based loosely on caleb's "hidden waves" memory, porn with plot, manipulative!caleb x manipulative!reader, brat!reader, mean(ish) dom!caleb, caleb makes out with your cunt for an hour, reader cries, belly bulge, 3 brother mentions but they’re done ironically/out of spite, humiliation, semi-public sex (caleb makes you call and cancel plans with that friend while he fucks you), lines lifted directly from hidden waves in bold pairing: caleb x fem!reader  word count: 3.9k

a/n: love the scene this is based on bc it reminds me of my favorite book from the wattpad era in 300 BC. also this is my first time writing full-on smut and omfg i don't know how people write like 10k of it u guys are wizards. but the response to this will determine how explicitly i write going forward, no pressure

As the Skyhaven nightscape twinkles around you, you can’t help but feel like you’re forgetting something. 

You’d had a great night: Simone had invited you to a cute café, the owners had given you a free muffin, and the raging storm from this afternoon had dwindled into a drizzle. But still, a sense of foreboding loomed over you, threatening to taint the precious memories you’d made tonight.

“...And next week we can go to this new bar downtown! I heard they have the best drinks, and there’s even a puppy mascot they let walk around and play with guests. Doesn’t that sound fun?” 

“Yeah, sure,” you agree absently, Simone’s words going in one ear and out the other. “I’ll be there.”

As you walk farther down the sidewalk, the vibrant city atmosphere melts away your worries. People of all ages were out splashing in leftover puddles, trying new food stalls, and window shopping in the strip of stores that lit your path. Gradually, you give up on trying to place your unease, surrendering fully to the comfort of the cool night air.

“Hey!” you exclaim, an idea popping into your head. “Do you want to find a photobooth and take some pictures? I want something to remember tonight by.”

“Oh my gosh, absolutely,” Simone responds. “There should be one not too far from here. I went with my brother a few months back! It was really fun.”

At her words, you stop in your tracks. Her enthusiasm is no match for the dread building in your chest. 

Caleb.

Caleb who’d told you to text him when you got to the café, when you were about to leave, and when you were almost home. 

Caleb was what—or who—you were forgetting.

Slowly, you reach your hand into your purse until you feel your phone, digging it out and staring as if it were a venomous animal. Taking a deep breath, you tap the screen awake and immediately lose the air you’d just inhaled. 

7 Unread messages

4 Missed calls

3 New voicemails

Fuck.

“Uh, actually,” you start, chucking the device back into your bag, “I just realized I didn’t bring a brush! There’s no way I can take pictures without fixing my hair—it’s like a bird’s nest up there,” you ramble, giggling nervously. “Can we end the night here?”

“O…kay?” Simone says, clearly confused by the sudden shift in your mood. “Yeah, we can go back now. Your hair looks fine, though.”

Thanking the universe for giving you such an agreeable friend, you walk back to her car, the quickness of your usually unhurried steps betraying your agitation.

He’s gonna kill me, he’s gonna kill me, he’s gonna kill me, you think. 

As the familiar outline of Simone’s car comes into view, she turns to face you. “Do you want a ride to the train station? I told my girlfriend I’d be home at 1:30—I have another hour.”

“Wait!” you cry, throwing your hands out in front of you. She looks at you as if the intensity in your voice is unnecessary. Which is true, because she’s standing a foot away. Quieter this time, you ask, “Would it be okay if I spent the night at your place? Just this once, I promise.” 

“...If you really need to,” she agrees warily. “As long as you don’t mind cat hair.”

When you reach her car, Simone gestures for you to wait as she walks around to the passenger’s side. “I just need to clean up real quick. The granola bar wrappers build up when you’re constantly called in early for emergencies.” 

But when Simone pulls on the door handle, it doesn’t open. “Weird,” she mutters, wiping raindrops onto her jeans. “I swear I unlocked it.” 

She clicks a button on her keys and tries again. Inexplicably, the door still doesn’t budge. “It’s like some force is holding it shut or something,” she says. At that, an alarm sounds in the back of your mind. But before it can reach your consciousness, she continues. “Well, I have a locksmith on speed dial anyway—I’m always losing my keys. But before I call, seriously, are you ok? The way you asked me to stay over….Is there something scary waiting for you at home? Why do you look so worried?”

"It’s probably because I’m home,” the all-too-familiar voice rings out behind you. 

In an instant, your entire body goes rigid. Your now-pounding heart screams at you to run, but you can’t obey without making a scene in front of your friend. 

Plastering a smile on your face, you turn around slowly, as if the longer you took to face him, the more likely he’d be to disappear.  

You had no such luck. Towering over you, umbrella in hand, was Caleb, his normally expressive face a wall of stone. 

Despite his obvious anger, he steps forward to shield you from the downpour and you refrain from taking a step back—against your better judgment.

“Caleb!” you remark, your voice shrill with unease. “What a surprise!”

Ignoring your greeting, Caleb turns his attention to Simone. “Skyhaven isn’t very safe tonight,” he says coolly. “You’d better get home.”

The finality in his words makes it clear: you won’t be joining her. 

“Um, sure,” Simone trails off, wary eyes searching yours. “Will you be alright?”

“...Yes, it’s okay.”

Though your words don’t seem to convince her, Caleb’s penetrating glare does. She quickly walks to the driver’s side and effortlessly pops the door open—surprise, surprise—before jumping in. Giving you one last look, your only chance at salvation drives into the night.

The ride back to Caleb’s house is silent. You scoot as close as you can to the window beside you, paying no mind to the intensifying patter of rain against the glass. All that you notice is how he grips the steering wheel tight enough for his knuckles to turn white. 

When you pull into his driveway and exit the car, he walks closely behind you, preventing any more last-minute escape attempts. His imposing presence follows you inside and all the way to his bedroom. 

When you both cross the threshold, the air thickens with tension as you stand in silence, unmoving. 

“Well, goodnight!” you call when you can’t take it anymore. But before you can take one step, Caleb swings the door shut with his Evol. Huh, you think. Doors must be his speciality tonight.

“Where do you think you could possibly be going after the night you gave me?” he asks, steely voice cutting through your thoughts.

“Listen—” you start, but he cuts you off. 

“You ordered coffee three times. Burst out into laughter I could hear from outside six times. And yet, you somehow managed to check your phone zero times.”

“If you’d just given me more time, I was going to—”

“You were going to what? Because here’s what I think would have happened: If I hadn’t picked you up, you would’ve gone to your friend’s place, right? Then, you’d message me with an apology. Oh, throw in a cute emoji as the cherry on top,” he snorts. 

“With that done, you’d put your phone away and curl up into a ball to sleep. You wouldn’t even dare to check my response. You’d wait it out and believe I wouldn’t be upset. And once I’m away on a mission or somethin’...you would sneak back into the house and pretend nothing happened. Tell me,” he challenges you. “Am I wrong?”

He wasn’t wrong. He was never wrong—not about your habits, at least. 

“Okay, okay, I get it,” you snap. “I thought you said you were ‘done playing games’? You don't have to act so big brother-y all the time.”

Clearly, that was the wrong thing to say. Caleb’s head rears back, his eyes going wide in incredulity before he scoffs. 

Alright, you sigh, time to turn on the waterworks. 

Taking a deep breath, you force tears into your eyes. “Caleb,” you begin, “I really didn’t mean to ignore you. I was just having so much fun. S-someone brought their puppy to the café and I got distracted.” The café hadn’t allowed pets, but you needed all the sympathy you could get. You’d have to thank Simone for telling you about that new bar later. “I won’t do it again. I won’t even go out at night anymore—promise.”

As he takes in your pitiful expression, you see Caleb’s resolve start to crack, the twitch in his right eye giving away how much he wants to console you. Maintaining your pout, you internally grin like a Cheshire cat. He could never say no to you. He could never le—

Your phone rings.

You thought you’d turned it off in the car, but your fucking phone rings. Right when you have him where you want him. 

The shrill tone sucks the air out of the room, and with it, any hope for your escape.

“Answer it. Speaker.” His voice leaves no room for argument.

Visibly shaken, you fish your phone out of your bag and accept the call. “H-hello?”

“Hey Y/N, it’s Simone. I’m calling to check on you—that guy who took you home was kinda scary. I just wanted to make sure he didn’t do anything. Are you okay?”

At the insinuation that he’d ever harm you, Caleb’s face turns thunderous, his jaw clenching so hard you’re afraid it’ll snap. 

“No, no, I’m fine,” you reassure her. “Thanks for worrying though, that’s really sweet,” you add, your eyes darting up and immediately back down after meeting Caleb’s glower. 

“That’s great, I really was worried,” she says, relief evident in her voice. “Well, before you hang up, are we still on for same time next week at the bar I mentio—”

You hang up as soon as she reveals your plans, throwing your phone so abruptly it bounces off the chair where your purse sits and onto the carpet. But it was too late. There was no sweet-talking the irate scowl off of Caleb’s face. You’d lied. 

Like a deer in headlights, you stand frozen and helpless as Caleb stalks toward you. 

“You almost had me,” he chuckles darkly, squishing your cheeks between one hand. “And I bet you knew it, too. Remind me to thank Simone for being such a good friend later.”

His grip tightens when you try to respond, and he pulls your face closer to his instead. “I think I’ve had enough of you talking for now. No point in hearing it if you’re just gonna lie to me again.”

With uncanny speed, he lifts you by your legs and tosses you onto the mattress. When you attempt to sit up, hoping to crawl away, he captures both of your wrists in his hand and claims your lips in a bruising kiss. 

“Don’t talk.” A kiss. “Don’t move.” Another. “Don’t do anything I don’t tell you to do, and I might not chain you to this bed.” You’re so distracted by his final kiss—the exclamation point—that you barely register when he yanks your loose pants down, baring your cotton panties to him. 

When he spots the wet patch spreading through the middle, he moans, shifting to push his nose into your center. The deep inhales he takes seem to calm him down, and his voice loses some of its earlier edge when he murmurs, “Can’t believe you were keepin’ her from me tonight. Look at how much she missed me.”

He demonstrates by pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your panties, tasting you as you leak harder under his tongue. The whimper you let out falls on deaf ears as you remember his command: Don’t talk. 

Licking a stripe up your clothed folds, Caleb sighs into you in contentment. “Gonna see her in a second,” he breathes. “Just can’t give her too much at once, or she’ll get greedy.” 

He’s too far gone, you think, closing your eyes in preparation of what’s to come. But nothing prepares you for the way the seemingly sedated Caleb rips your panties open at the seam, exposing your hot skin to the cool air. 

With no hesitation, he plants a long kiss onto your core, his lips smacking against the fat of your outer folds. Covering your skin with a flurry of pecks, he moans into you, his intermittent licks becoming sloppy, appreciative kisses. 

Caleb was making out with your cunt like your brain wasn't in the room, kissing it like he hadn’t seen it in years. The sensations and lewd squelches make your arousal unbearable, but when you try to grind into his mouth—to get him to do something more—he pushes your hips into the mattress. 

“Don’t interrupt us,” he mumbles, lips still latched onto your unspread cunt. Heat rushing to your cheeks, you flop your head back down, defeated as the man ignores you to have his heartfelt reunion with your core. 

An agonizing few minutes later, you feel him press a last hard kiss against your skin before finally spreading your soaked folds. “Can’t believe you ever thought you could hide from me,” he growls, eyes sparkling. “I’ll show you you can’t. Make you never want to again.”

Slowly, he licks up and down your wetness, teasing his tongue around your entrance. You try to relax during his ministrations, knowing he won’t give you what you want this early, but he catches you off guard when he buries his tongue into your weeping, sputtering hole. 

A strangled moan escapes you as he fucks you with his tongue, twisting, turning, and circling himself inside you. 

One pulse has your walls flexing with desperation, and Caleb pulls back slightly when he feels you tighten around him. “Look at that, I think she’s kissin’ me back,” he coos, a string of his saliva refusing to part from your quivering cunt. 

Spurred on by the whine you give him, he flashes you a wicked grin before diving back in, plunging his tongue in and out at a punishing pace. 

All the while, he studiously avoids where you need him most, licking and kissing everywhere but your twitching clit—neglecting it like you did him earlier in the night.

Suddenly, he lifts his head up, flashing you a quick smirk. “You know,” he starts, licking his glistening lips. “When you were givin’ me all those crocodile tears and cryin’ about puppies earlier, you never did say sorry for trying to run. How about now, hmm?” he asks, pressing a wet kiss to your center. “You sorry?”

You pant out an incoherent moan, and he nips at your clit—the first time he’s touched it all night. Ignoring your squeal, he gives you another kiss. “I don’t know what that means. Try again.” 

You go to speak again, but Caleb suddenly rubs his nose against your clit, your resulting gasp sending your back shooting off the bed. He swiftly slams you back down with his Evol, giving you another nip. “Just two words, baby. You can do that for me, yeah? Two words, loud and clear. Want to know you mean it.”

You don’t know what it is—the last strands of your pride clinging on for dear life, your stupor after being toyed with for almost an hour, or pure stubbornness—but you can’t bring yourself to say it. With a whimper, you clamp your mouth shut, staring at the ceiling in rebellion. 

“Hmmm,” he hums, looking up at you briefly. Before you can even process it, Caleb covers your clit with his mouth and sucks, simultaneously groaning into you. The combined sensations set your nerves on fire, and you come in his mouth with a prolonged cry. 

“I’m sorry!” you wail, the tears in your eyes genuine this time. As Caleb laps up your release, chants of “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m—oh—I’m sorry,” fall through your lips, your earlier defiance reduced to blubbering submission. “Should’ve checked my phone and called you back, I’m so sorry.” 

You’ve apologized ten times over, it feels, but he won’t let up. He suckles you until it aches, and there’s nothing you can do but lie there and sob as his Evol keeps you pinned down. When he’s finally had his fill, he presses a reverent thank-you kiss to your cunt before crawling up your body, nestling in between your thighs. 

“Aw, none of that, now,” he coos, wiping under your eyes. “I forgive you, alright? I forgive you for getting distracted, baby.” Still crying, you nod frantically, leaning into his gentle touch. “But if you ever run from me again, whoever you’re with won’t like what happens when I catch you,” he promises, pressing a kiss to your lips and then your forehead before plunging into you. 

Though his pace is relentless, your walls draw him in, his earlier date with your cunt letting you take his thick length with ease. 

When the pressure builds and you shy away from his brutal thrusts, he turns your chin toward him, pressing an ironically chaste kiss to your mouth. “No running, remember?” 

As you hurtle toward your release, he leans close, kissing you briefly before speaking into your lips. “The next time you wanna ignore me—next time you wanna hide from me and lie to me sayin’ you’ll be good from now on—I want you to think of this, to think of me right here,” he murmurs, palming his cock through your belly. You squeal at the foreign feeling, but he only adds more force, and you think you’re about to pass out.   

“My baby,” he chides. “Loves to act out but she can’t handle the consequences.” While he speaks, he folds your left leg up, pushing it to your chest so he can penetrate you deeper.

“Please, Caleb!” you beg, the new angle making stars float across your vision. As your body rocks with the force of his strokes, you cry, “I said I was sorry!” 

“Mm, you did,” he nods, absorbing a tear on your cheek with a kiss. “But I don’t think you really are. Not yet.”

Without warning, he pulls out of you and flips you onto your stomach before sliding back in. Resuming his thrusts, he uses his Evol to pick your forgotten phone up off the floor. “Call her back. Speaker,” he orders. 

At first, you're flustered into hesitation, but as he holds the phone ahead of you and taps through your history to do it himself, you pull yourself together. “Wait,” you wail. “Wait. I’ll do it.”

You do it.

When Simone picks up, Caleb shows you mercy by decreasing his pace so the sound of slick skin colliding doesn’t travel through the phone. 

“Hey Y/N, what’s up? Is it about earlier? …Did something happen?” she asks in concern.

Frantically, you twist your head to look up at Caleb, not knowing what to say. 

Leisurely, he folds forward over you, his chest flush with your spine so he can whisper in your ear. Throughout his dramatics, your time to respond without raising suspicion wanes, and you grow more desperate by the second.

“Hi Simone,” Caleb finally whispers, pressing kisses to your ear in time with his languid strokes.

“H-hi Simone,” you repeat louder, a slight tremble in your voice.

“I just wanted to say thanks again for checking in. That guy, the one from earlier—he can be so mean sometimes,” Caleb murmurs, pouting his lips in ridicule. 

“I just wanted…wanted to say thanks again for checking in. The guy from earlier—hah—can be so mean sometimes,” you echo, breathless from the impact of Caleb’s hips rocking into yours.

“Can we reschedule our plans for next week? My big brother’s,” he emphasizes, mocking your earlier jab with two deep thrusts, “coming home, and he really misses me.” As he feeds you lines, the taunts in his words break through the softness of his whispers. 

As softly as you dare to, you whimper for him, hoping it’s enough for him to end his torture.

But as the phone screen goes black from inactivity, you see his smirking reflection looming over your humiliated one. The only way out is by appeasing him. 

“C-can we reschedule our plans for next week? My…my friend—” 

As soon as the word leaves your mouth, Caleb lifts off of you slightly, landing a harsh smack on your ass.

“Y/N? What was that noise? Are you alright?”

“Yes,” you all but moan as he bites your neck, reprimanding you further for breaking his script. 

“My friend is visiting next week, and he really misses me,” you finish, waiting with bated breath for her—and Caleb’s—reactions. 

“Oh…sure, Y/N. That’s fine with me. That’s a lot better than I was expecting, you sounded like you were in trouble for a second.” Caleb smirks against your ear. “Just let me know when you want to reschedule.”

“Sounds good,” you breathe as Caleb’s thrusts return to a faster pace. “I-I gotta go, I’ll see you later!” you rush, almost squealing as you end the call. 

For the nth time that night, you want to burst into tears. “I can’t believe you just did that,” you whine, your voice mixing with the renewed slaps of skin on skin. 

Chuckling, Caleb lifts off of you, his sudden absence from your cunt making you shudder. In an instant, he flips you over so you’re face-to-face before entering you again. 

“Technically, you just did that,” he smirks, his thrusts now lazy and sporadic. “I don’t remember pressing ‘call.’” His matter-of-fact tone is teasing, but you knew that if you hadn’t canceled on Simone, he’d have made good on his earlier threat. He always does. 

As you open your mouth to retort, Caleb’s face grows serious, and all your neurons responsible for making witty comebacks seem to atrophy at once. 

Caleb leans down, light bites on your throat punctuating his confession. “I can’t stop at wanting you not to run from me anymore. I want you to stay with me. To choose to, for as long as we live, for the next hundred years.” 

“But what if…” you trail off, but he understands what you’d been implying. 

At that, his eyes darken. Rutting into you with renewed fervor, he grasps your chin tightly, holding you captive in his gaze. “You’ll be around for however many years I’m alive and kicking,” he growls. And you believe him. 

Nerves alight, mind numb, and core throbbing from your impending climax, you nod as much as his iron grip allows you to. “I’ll stay,” you whisper, kissing his thumb near your lip. “Wanna stay—with you.” 

Letting out a strangled huff, Caleb surges forward, his lips meeting yours in a searing kiss. He bites your bottom lip as he presses down on your stomach once again, and you careen over the edge, feeling the hot spurts of his release intensify the flood inside your cunt. 

With a shuttering groan, Caleb collapses to your left, immediately closing the space between you with a hug. You stay like that for a while, your sore body curled into his arms as you face each other on the bed. 

“You okay?” he asks quietly, rubbing circles into your hip. “I know it was a bit much.”

“Forgive you,” you mumble into his chest. “Felt good.”

He chuckles, tapping your nose twice. “You shouldn’t forgive me so easily. Or else I’ll want to keep testing your limits.” 

When you fall asleep in his warm embrace, Caleb looks down at you intently, trying to brand the visual into any part of his commandeered mind that’d take it. Daring to disrupt the image, he gently untangles your bodies, lifting you before laying you back down on top of him. 

At peace for the first time that night, Caleb looks out the window, smiling to himself. The rain has stopped.

[ramonathinks]

tags: older reader x younger satoru gojo, squirting, slight overstimulation, oral (f), smut | gojo satoru

note: i actually don’t like this fr but lol

you’ve never had a real orgasm. not at all in your almost 33 years. no man has ever even almost got you there. but you didn’t know that, you thought you had one before. feeling a bit good and then the feeling disappeared. you were… satisfied maybe? but it was always like this with guys your age.

so you knew why it was different with satoru. but man, it was different. really different.

he was 6’7, had a pretty long and girthy cock between his legs and always had a goofy smile on his face. he was 25 and for some reason… he was interested in you, instead of the younger and presumably prettier girls in the office.

from the moment he transferred to your department, he was in your face and trying to get your attention. it was always something with him — picking up some coffee for you, walking you to your car, and flirting.

it was always something small… a whisper in the ear to praise you for the good job on your presentation or a hand on your lower back.

it was supposed to only be dinner. yet here you are, with him in your bed and his mouth on your cunt.

“you’re delicious.” he mutters, lapping at your folds, stretching your lips open so he can get every bit of wetness spilling out of you. he was avoiding your flit, getting closer and closer before he moved away to focus elsewhere. kissing the trail of wetness on your thighs or dipping his tongue back inside of you. your stomach clenched and you could feel more wetness spilling out and that’s when his lips met your clit — a tiny kiss before he rubbed his face into you and sucked hard enough to make your toes curl.

he can barely wait anymore, he climbs off the bed before removing the last layer of his clothing and rubbing his aching leaking cock against your folds. pushing in, you both moan.

“you’re so fucking tight,” he hisses, moving his hips back and forth, inching himself in. he’s holding back, seeing your face twist between pain and pleasure.

“please i—” your brain is fuzzy and feels like mush, you can barely think. he’s so big and just from what’s inside, he’s close to digging you out.

“shhh… you don’t have to beg senpai. i’ll give it to you right now,” his face is still wet with your juices as he speaks and he releases a short moan feeling you around him. “feels so good already—” he says.

pulling himself al the way out just to slam back inside of you, before he slows down so you can feel every inch of him. speeding his pace so his tip can just almost touch a spot that you never had touched before… a spot you didn’t know existed, but knowing that he was close to something and feeling it .. did something to you

“sator—ahh!” your thighs are shaking and you feels big pressure in your insides that make you try to move him off of you. “i feel like ‘m going to…” he’s slamming into you with one hand on your clit as if he knows what you’re going to say.

a squirt of wetness flows as he keeps moving inside of you and you can see that wetness on his lower half but he doesn’t seem to mind it; his face is in pure bliss as he stares back into your eyes. he pushes on your stomach more, more wetness leaking onto your sheets. your eyes are rolled back but he grips your thighs and forces you to sit on top of him.

“can’t-”

“but you will, right… for me, senpai?” and it was something about him calling you senpai again that made you squirt more uncontrollably, splashing more than just a stream. he grabs your ass and grips it hard, pulling you up and down his cock. your insides tightened around him and you unconsciously rolled your hips a few times.

you could feel a wave of everything washing over you, his cock hitting a different part deep inside you, which made your back snap and you wrap your legs around him even more, cumming in his lap with a big moan; a mixture of both cream and squirt soaking his lap.

“i’ll make sure you never forget who made you cum this hard.” he kisses you, grabbing your jaw so that you can open your mouth before he spits in your mouth and you groan, sinking your nails into his back.

you wake up late, almost in the middle of the afternoon, wrapped in your sheets and satoru gone. you aren’t so surprised but you put your robe on and walk down the stairs.

you hear talking or a bit of arguing.

“listen kid, im not leaving my daughters with you. now tell me—” you freeze at the voice of your ex and you see a fuming satoru.

“no you listen—”

holding the robe even more tightly together, you walk towards the two men to make your presence known. “c’mon girls, there’s food on the table.” your daughters race to the kitchen.

“wait babe, i made that for us—” you shoot him a stare and satoru shuts his mouth.

“thanks for dropping them off, have a good day.” you shut the door and sigh. “why didn’t you wake me?”

“i tried but you were so worn out. i guess i overdone it…”

“you guess? i never came in my life and you…” you whispered, feeling dizzy thinking about last night.

“let’s get you something to eat.”

[slater-baby]

Money Shot

Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!Reader

Tags - Squirting, voyeurism, toys, mentions of breeding

-

“Simon?” Price calls from the head of the boardroom, arms crossed in deep contemplation, “What do you think? Is it feasible?”

“Feasible? Sure,” He glances at the tactical plan with a minute shake of his head, “Advisable? Not so much. I mean, that structure is...what? Three, four meters? Unless the drop point is on the fuckin' roof, there’s no way the cunts won’t see us coming.”

“Hm,” Price grunts, running a hand through his beard. Around the boardroom, various members of the congregation shift in their seats.

“What about…” Gaz begins, and then, Simon hears it.

BZZ.

“Goddamnit,” he whispers beneath his breath, leaning forward in his chair to pull his phone out of his pocket. Just recently, he’d installed a set of cameras about the house and porch.

‘Just for extra security, love,’ he’d told you. Since you moved in with him—and what with your name now written into his will—his time away on deployment and in the office had become…a liability, to say the least. 

On a good day, Simon didn’t like to leave you by yourself. But for extended periods of time? When he couldn’t so much as pick up the phone to send you a text?

His fried nerves had all but demanded it. The cameras were his only failsafe. His only means of connecting with you, even when you were oblivious to it. In his mind, when he was deployed to some desolate war zone, slumming it in drafty safehouses, sustaining himself on MREs and cigarettes, then just seeing you quiet and content in your usual place on the sofa, flipping through a book or doing a face mask, would be enough to tide him over. 

Though, he’d failed to consider just how goddamn annoying the notifications would soon become.

Hurriedly, he glances at his phone under the table, halfheartedly listening to the meeting.

‘MASTER BEDROOM - MOVEMENT DETECTED,’ his phone so helpfully supplies him.

He scowls.

Movement detected. Yeah, right. Just like the other twenty times it’d told him that in the past hour alone. He digs his index finger into the ringer switch, but just at that moment, another notification comes.

And with it, another…And another…And another….

‘MOVEMENT DETECTED’

‘MOVEMENT DETECTED’

‘MOVEMENT DETECTED,’ it says to him yet again, as if he were an idiot too dull to even read.

“MOVEMENT DETECTED!! INTRUDER ALERT!!!” It seems to screech, “GRAB YOUR GUN, SOLDIER, THE DAY ISN’T OVER YET!!’

Annoyance climbing by the minute, Simon hurriedly flicks through his apps, all too eager to return to the meeting at hand. Within seconds, he’s staring at the grey display of your sparsely lit living room.

If anything, it’s a bit messy, but hardly remarkable. The TV is on, some soapy romance show still rolling in the background. There’s a pillow on the floor. The cat is lounging in a flickering patch of dying sunlight. Nothing out of the ordinary. 

He switches to the kitchen. Nothing but the hum of the old fridge greets him. And in the dining room, it’s a similar story. So, attention wavering with every word that Kyle speaks, he angrily flicks through the porch cameras and straight to the master bedroom. 

And that’s when he hears it.

The smallest, weakest little voice…

“God, Simon…”

At the sound—barely audible over the noise of Price’s lecture—his heart rate spikes.

Physically, he can feel his blood rushing, nerves shredding themselves to pieces as he hurriedly presses the rotate button on screen. Slowly—almost as if to taunt him—the janky camera begins to turn. And with every second longer he has to wait, darker possibilities begin to flood his synapses.

You’d fainted.

You’d fallen.

You’d broken a bone.

Or, perhaps the very worst, he’d find someone else standing over you.The exact reason he’d installed the cameras in the first place.

He waits with bated breath, practically unblinking, until he finds the source of the movement. The blankets atop the bed jostle, and he breathes a sigh of relief when he sees your familiar form swathed in pillows and fluff. Safe, warm, and most importantly, alone.

“Simon…” you say again—voice strained. Almost as if you were…crying?

Again, he glances at Price. The man is distracted, going on about the MTC once more. Surreptitiously, Simon looks back down at his phone, confused.

Were you sick? Laid up in bed with a fever?

No, somehow that didn’t feel like the right description. Last month, when you’d caught the flu, you could hardly stand to sit still. Simon practically had to chain you to the bed just to force you to get some decent rest.

Then, what could it be?

Did you miss him, perhaps?

At the thought, his chest warms. In all his years of service, Simon never had someone to miss him. He had his friends, sure, but they were his home away from home, the family he’d never known he’d find. Off service, however, before he’d met you, home wasn’t warmth. It wasn’t happiness. It wasn’t dear to his heart. Hell, it was little more than a house, with a sofa and television. 

But when you came along….

You, with your shining eyes, witty jokes, and unending support…

He’d never known that the most precious gift a man could receive is someone to come home to at night and to miss him when he leaves in the morning.

Fondly, he looks at his phone screen, hardly listening to the meeting at hand.

Within your cradle of old blankets and sheets, you shift, a whimper escaping your mouth. It echoes in the grainy speakers of his phone, and he hardly even thinks to lower the volume…

That is, until you move again, and the blankets fall down.

One of your arms pushes the blankets down, and suddenly, Simon has an eyeful of your bare tits. Naked, shining with sweat, and nipples raw from being tweaked.

Instantly, his eyes go wide, and he jolts forward to hide his phone in the shadow of the conference table. 

Not crying. Definitely not crying, his brain rambles, watching as the curve of your breasts squish into the mattress as you twist beneath the sheets. The flimsy fabric, threadbare after so many long nights together, wraps around your legs like a vice. 

And that is exactly when he sees it.

Your back arches way from the mattress and your entire body thrums with electricity, hips moving fast and hard, every roll just as desperate and jagged as when you slide into his lap during movie nights, unbuckling his belt before he can even think to open his mouth.

“Fuck!” You nearly scream—and Simon literally flinches, hurriedly whipping his head around to look at the other men.

“Simon?” Price suddenly questions, “You alright? Was that your phone again?”

“Um,” he begins tactfully, clearing his throat, “Yeah—just m’girlfriend walkin’ in front o’ the camera again.”

“Oh,” Price nods, “She doing alright? Haven’t seen ‘er recently.”

“Yeah—she’s…” he huffs, blindly rapidly down at his phone where you writhe against the sheets, fingers thrusting between your thighs.

“She’s doing…great,” he manages, swallowing thickly when you reach a hand up to squeeze your bouncing tits.

“Well, give ‘er my regards next time you talk to to ‘er.”

“‘Course, sir.”

“Now, back to what I was saying about the perimeter…”

With that, Simon holds his breath for a few torturous minutes. However, when the other men continue on as if nothing had ever happened, he surreptitiously leans back in his chair…and looks down at the phone again.

His hearing fades to nothing but a distant buzz, pulse racing in his chest, like his heart might explode at any moment. And even though he’s muted the volume, he swears he can hear your moans ringing in his ears, vibrating in his very bones.

In the black and white video, you throw your head back against the pillows, hips jumping so hard the flimsy sheet falls down to your ankles. And soon enough, he can see every part of you. The softness of your heaving stomach, the sweat against your cheeks, the delicate shine of slick between your sweet folds…

Your entire body tenses, and undoubtedly you cry out again. He already knows what you’re saying, even if it’s all but silent in his hands.

His name.

You’re there, needy and alone, a wet spot between your legs on the sheets, shouting his name like there was any hope of him actually hearing it—as if there was any hope of him finding you,  filling you up, and giving you what you truly need. 

At that thought, pride wells up in his veins, hot and bubbling. And before he knows it, his blood is rushing south at an alarming rate.

“Please,” he can imagine you begging him, “Please….Please, Simon, just a little. Just the tip…”

You’d say it with heat in your cheeks and a pout on your lips, wrapping a shaky hand around his hip so that he couldn’t pull back, so that he couldn’t tease you any longer. You’d whine and whimper, tears gathering in your eyes, as you weakly pulled him forward, just enough to wrap one of those precious hands around his leaking cock.

You’d guide him forward like that—in a way he couldn’t deny—and you’d sit there, batting your eyelashes, sliding your wet cunt over the tip of his condom-covered dick, like that might tempt him just enough to take it off…to fuck you full and hard, until he was leaking out of your fluttering pussy and into your ruined panties.

He bites his lip.

You’d begged him before. On your knees, kissing the head of his cock. On your stomach, pushing your ass up against his hips. With your face buried in the pillows, nearly sobbing for it.

“Just once, Simon. Please—I promise. Just a little bit. Just the tip,” you said every time—as if those words made the act any better.

And, god, Simon wanted it. He wanted it so, so badly. To feel the warmth of your body, the heat of your bare skin against his own…to feel your pulse thumping between your legs as he fucked his cum right into the seat of your very womb.

So far, you hadn’t manage to take him raw just yet. If not because he had the patience of a Saint, then for the fact that your doctor kept rescheduling your birth control appointment.

Yet, looking at you now…

He breathes in low and deep, watching as your legs shake, toes curling.

The sheets fall off the bed.

And with another cry, you pull the dripping dildo from between your legs, curling your thighs together in absolute ecstasy.

Jaded, he looks at the damned toy. A cheap replica of his own cock. You’d given him a mould on Valentine’s Day—mostly as a joke…until next deployment came around, and you all but begged him to do it.

He still remembers how ridiculous it felt, looking down at your satisfied smile while you licked him clean afterwards, merely as a ‘thank you’ for all his hard work.

Beneath the shadow of your dangling calves, he can see the promise of your dripping cunt tucked between your sweet thighs. Desperate, wet, and wanting…

He scowls.

Pills, doctors, and implants be damned. If Simon had it his way, you’d be filled and sated, womb swollen with his seed, evidence of all the love he had yet to give you. It’s a tempting thought—one that nearly drags him into his mind once and for all.

However, a sudden movement on the camera catches his attention.

The toy is still in your hand. Strings of slick drip off of it and onto the flat of your thigh. With your other hand, you spread your abused folds, barely able to pull them back with how wet you’ve become. Impatiently, slide two of your trembling fingers into yourself, head tossing against the pillows.

“Please,” he swears he can hear it, “Please, please, please—”

You thrust into yourself ruthlessly, flecks of slick flying just at the movement. God, the sound of it must be nothing short of obscene. He can only imagine.

Your offhand tightens around the shaft of the dildo, and this time, when you tense up, the movement is so utterly enrapturing he swears he can see drops of saliva spill over your lips. You yank your hand out of yourself. Your stomach flexes. You yell into the bare room.

And that—that is when he sees it.

Suddenly, a rush of slick squirts out of your cunt and onto the bed, hips flinching as you soak through the sheets beneath your ass. Fuck, even through the horrible quality of the film, he swears he can see the walls of your pussy clenching, opening up around every wash of rushing liquid.

It splatters over your thighs, makes your toes curl into the sheets. The fabric sticks to your skin as you continue to ride out the waves of your orgasm, and when you reach a hand down to rub over your swollen clit, little spurts of it squirt over your naked body in time with every press of your fingers.

Before he even knows it—before he can feel ashamed for it—he’s rock hard against the fly of his jeans, cock pulsing beneath the fabric as he watches you lay panting and flushed in a puddle of your own cum. 

“Yes,” he sees your mouth move, cunt still dribbling onto the bedsheets, “God, yes…”

Hands positively shaking, you lift the toy again, clumsily rubbing your ruined pussy over its shining length.

And, god, he’s helpless to imagine himself in its place. Helpless but to imagine himself between your legs, covered down to his knees in your shining spend. Fuck, it’s intoxicating, and it hits him harder than any drug he possibly could have taken.

Listlessly, he looks at your beautiful face through the film grain…

“Simon,��� you whisper to yourself, lazily rubbing your cunt against head of that stupid toy, “Simon…”

Easily, he gets lost in it. 

Lost in the sound of your voice saying his name.

Lost in the heat of your expression.

Lost in the need he feels welling up inside of himself…

Lost in the feeling of his hand palming over himself, hidden by the shadows of the looming conference table.

“Simon?”

The sound of his name—and in the voice of a man no less—makes him jump in his seat. On reflex, he closes his phone.

“What?” He answers cluelessly, slapping his hands down on the surface of the table, like he hadn’t just been thrusting into his own hand mere seconds before.

“I asked you what you thought about it,” Price jammers on, oblivious.

“About what?” he says.

At that, Price raises an eyebrow.

“About the risk assessment results. Y’know…what we’ve been talking about for the last five minutes.”

“Risk assessment,” he uselessly repeats, “Yeah. Well, I…”

Price scrunches his face, glancing between his asinine powerpoint and Simon’s covered face.

“Have you been listening?” He huffs, sounding bored.

“Of course,” he clears his throat, hurriedly absorbing the information on screen, “It’s just—I had a question about that. Must’ve left me for a second there…”

“Uh-uh,” Price glances at his wrist watch.

Simon swallows, cock pulsing rapidly in his pants. He scoots his chair in closer to the table.

“If we go in via the rear entrance, then—then I think would should recruit at least one more person for overwatch. Y’know…At the height of the lower wall, I think it might be possible to put a man on the roof. As—as contingency.”

“Sounds fine to me. You think they’d have a decent shot?”

“Well…” he blinks emptily, “At that angle, I think that...”

The clock continues to tick.

Soap yawns at the other side of the table.

Price looks as if he’d rather be anywhere else than here.

And Simon…

God, his mind is still stuttering, heart racing with adrenaline.

Distracted, he’s stuck on where his phone lies innocently atop the table…and what he knows is happening just beneath the cover of its black screen.

[tiza0925]

Hello! I'm new to this but have you ever thought about any of your favorite characters while they're in the act and you look down at a certain part and they're so big on you that it scares you but they're pretty sure it could fit.I don't know if you could write something like that, sorry if it makes you uncomfortable.

hellooo, absolutely love this prompt so much ty for this ♡

men that make it fit | 18+

warnings/tags: nsfw, afab/female!reader, size difference, fingering, pet names, praise kink, squirting, raw sex, implied multiple orgasms, large cocks ♡

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Big men who just cover your entire body with theirs when they’re on top of you. 

Guys who make you feel so small when you’re on their lap, their hands are so damn big that they can cover your entire waist, legs, and hands—practically engulfing you. 

Big men that just pin you to the mattress while making out with you, they’re so strong without needing to try, and you probably should feel scared by the difference in strengths but god—you feel so secure. 

And you know he’ll take care of you even if he can hurt you sometimes—never on purpose unless you want it—because of how massive he is. 

Guys who feel just a little bad when they hear you cry from them pushing their thick fingers inside you—stretching your poor cunt and making you leak all over his hand as he curls his fingers inside your plush walls, coaxing out a throbbing orgasm from you. 

“Such a sweet little thing for me,” You hear him murmur, watching as your face twists with pleasure, and he can see the slight worry in your eyes as he fucks you with his fingers. “My baby is taking me so well already.” 

But can you take his cock? 

Fuck—what if it’s too big? 

It must be—his fingers are already too much for you—his dick will be nearly impossible to fit inside you. 

“You think you can be good and take my cock?” You whine, feeling heady and muddy as he pins both of your hands above your head on the bed, while his other hand continues to twist and curl inside you, his thumb pressing and rubbing your swollen clit. “I want to feel my favourite pussy, sweetheart.” 

But you suck in a shaky breath, eyes wide and scared because you know you can’t fit all of him in, and he chuckles breathlessly as he kisses your lips so softly, making you melt against him. 

“Don’t be scared,” He kisses your cheek, then gives your trembling lower lip a gentle pull with his mouth, trying to get you relaxed as he strums his fingers through your sopping folds, his voice low and deceptively soothing. “I’ll be gentle with you, okay?” 

He always is—and that’s the thing. 

No matter how gentle he tries to be—he still ends up stretching you so wide that you think you might actually split in half, the sting of him inside you being too much that you cry sometimes.

He kisses you, and reassures you, hand running up and down your body to spread goosebumps all over your skin. 

Then he’s pushing his pants off to let his fat cock bounce free—it lands on your belly, all hot and heavy, and your breath hitches as electricity sparks through your body—and your heart rate doubles with every passing moment, just waiting for him to stuff you with his cock. 

“Relax for me,” He says while guiding his dick to slide between your plush pussy, letting your slick folds hug his length and coat them in juices as he rocks his hips—his cock head bumping against your clit every time his hips are flushed against yours. 

“You feel that, baby?” Your lashes flutter, your eyes half-lidded as he works you up, making your cunt pulse as he glides his heavy cock over it. “You’re gonna be so good and fit all of me, okay?” 

You gulp, but you still nod—because you want to be good for him. 

You want to feel him and make him feel good. 

And he watches you, focused, taking in every twitch of your features as he slowly pushes the head of his dick inside you—his eyes alight with heat when he sees the way your mouth pops open with a gasp, already feeling the intense stretch of him. 

“You’re okay, baby,” he shushes you, sliding his hands under your thighs to guide them around his waist, and you whine as you hook your arms around his neck, bringing him closer, sloppily kissing him as he waits for you to adjust. “You feel so tight already—fuck—”

He groans, his voice vibrating against you, and you begin to breathe heavily as he pushes his fat cock into you—making you feel every agonizing inch as your pussy struggles to swallow him whole. 

“I—“ Your sentence gets cut short as you choke, already feeling him in your lungs and he’s only halfway in, “I can’t—”

“You can,” One of his hands comes up to swipe a fallen tear on your cheek with his thumb, while his other hand pins you to the bed by the waist. “I know you can, baby, you always did before.”

Which is true—you always did but—

It’s just so fucking big—holy shit—

You bite your lip, and your eyes squeeze shut as you try your hardest to relax—your fluids being pushed out as he lodges his dick inside your warm, plush walls, causing a wet mess all over your thighs and bed. 

You hold him as if you’re clinging onto dear life—taking all of him as he kisses you through it—until his hips finally press against your ass, his cock so deep that your limbs grow numb and you swear you can orgasm already. 

“There you go, sweetheart,” He purrs, waiting a moment as your pussy throbs around him, feeling abused and soaked, and he smiles down at you so achingly soft. “Taking me all like a good girl for me.” 

Then he pulls back—

“Oh god—” And you keen when he rocks his hips forward, sliding his cock along your walls, and he sets a pace of fucking you—getting you wet and your eyes to roll back as he becomes greedy with your pussy. 

“Look, baby,” He grunts, thrusting his cock in and out, his length coming out slick and creamy from your arousal, and he grips your face—fingers squishing your cheeks—to make you look down. “Look how well you’re taking me.” 

Your vision is foggy, you’re barely able to comprehend anything except for the dick inside your sore cunt, and you blink blearily as you try to look at what he wants you to see and—

Fuck.

You watch the way his cock disappears into your pussy, his girth forcing its way into you—and you let out a shaky breath at the way you’re taking it all in. 

Just like he said you would. 

“Told you I’ll make it fit, sweetheart, I always do,” You hear him murmur, and you force yourself to relax into a ragged breath as your limps melt into the mattress beneath you.

You feel like you’re being split in half as he fucks you over and over, bringing you higher and higher until you’re cumming all over him—gushing out liquid as you squirt on his cock with a wet moan, his name on your tongue—

And he takes good care of you throughout it all. His aftercare overwhelms you with cuddles of love and affirmation.

He loves you too much, anyway.

End.

Bokuto, Oikawa, Ushijima, Atsumu, Suna, Gojo, Choso, Sakusa, Geto, Sukuna, Nanami, Akaza, Oda, Kuroo, Hinata, plus any of your fav characters ♡

Masterpost

[choslut]

˖ ࣪ ، ◞ せ⌇ BABY MOMMA. featuring k. nanami.

↻ there’s nothing nanami wants more in the world than to make you a mommy, and give you his beautiful kids.

tags : breeding kink, creampie, mommy kink (if you squint), messy sex, pet names, feral nanami, marathon sex, lactation + pregnancy (fantasized), ovulation cycle // wc. 0.9k

author’s note : sorry this one’s a lil late, i’ve been busy with theme changes and real life is throwing a million and one hurdles at me and i just can’t keep up 😞 you can't tell me that nanami wouldn't be a massive family man, so here i have him completely desperate to start a family with you and give you his babies. notes and reblogs are always appreciated, and check out my masterlist for non-event based works <3 !!

this work is NSFW. minors and ageless blogs DO NOT INTERACT.

it’s been hours. hours since nanami even proposed the idea of trying for kids, and now, it’s all he can fucking think about. 

it’s all you can think about too, given the fact that he’s fucked you out of your mind, legs numb from being in missionary for as long as you remember with nanami plunging in and out of you, the tip of his cock nudging your cervix with every single thrust. 

it’s repetitive. it’s addicting. 

“hah- kento, can’t take no more…” your voice is a sheepish babble, nails digging into his back as tears stream down your face. “ ‘s too much, ken, please–“

nanami grunts in your ear, hips never ceasing movement as he ruts into you. “g’na have to, sweetheart. this one’s gotta take.”

he said that about the last one, and the one before that, and the one before that… and fuck, you can’t keep up with how many times he’s said it because he’s been going at it for so long with only one goal in mind. 

he’s gonna give you kids. he’s gonna make you a mommy, and you’re gonna raise his kids with him as his wife. 

it’s all he’s ever wanted. it’s all he’s ever dreamed of, and when he watches you lounge around the house wearing nothing but a bra and his oversized dress shirt and a wedding ring fit snugly on your finger, he really can’t stop himself from imagining what you would look like with a swollen tummy, breasts spilling out of that same bra. 

“g’na give you my kids baby…” he’s rambling half out of his ass, his brain scrambled by pure need. “gonna make my girl a mommy. you’re gonna be a great mommy, aren't you?”

he’s brought up the topic before. it was never anything serious, just asking you what you would prefer and never really thinking of his own volition. you had always agreed with him wholeheartedly, and it would somehow lead to the two of you cooing over baby clothes and strollers but never anything more. 

nanami is fucking sick of it. he’s sick of fawning over the idea and not doing anything about it. sure, you’ve made love a couple of times, but it never held any true intent, focusing on the pure need to give each other pleasure. 

well, now, nanami needs more than pleasure. he needs to see you with that swollen tummy and those massive leaky tits, and there’s only one way to do that; fucking you within an inch of your life and cumming in your cunt until it finally takes. 

“kento–“ you seemingly haven’t gotten bored of it yet, despite having been at it for over two hours. your back still arches with every bump to your cervix, nails still raking down his back as his sweaty chest squashes your own. “this one’s gonna take, promise.”

“i can’t be sure of that,” he states matter-of-factly. “although your tracker says you’re ovulating, we can’t just trust that once or twice will be enough.” is he sure of this fact? no, but he is sure that you feel too damn good to stop, even though he’s already finished inside of you enough times to guarantee your pregnancy ten times over. 

you just look so beautiful beneath him. you wear the radiance of sex extremely well, eyes fogged over and mouth hanging open as your steamy pants echo in his ear. you’re borderline intoxicating, and that’s why nanami can’t stop, even though he knows you need him to before you pass out. 

“look at me, angel. i wanna see you.” you weakly turn your cheek away from the pillow and look up at him, lips stained a gorgeous red and swollen from his kisses. “you’re gonna be such a pretty momma.”

your eyelids flutter and your back arches weakly as you cum again for the final time, garbled moans of nanami’s name flooding from your throat. despite the longevity of your session, your cunt still manages to squeeze around him impossibly, and nanami groans deeply, arms sliding around your hips as you pulls you forward to meet his thrusts. 

“kentooo…”

“i know, baby, i know.” the sheets are soiled with your sweat and his, and the tight clampdown of your walls propels him to cum one final time, hips flush against your twitching clit as he pumps you full. 

you both stay like that for a beat, nanami folded over your twitching body before he finally pulls out slowly, and when he does, the sight he’s met with is so incredibly dirty that he can barely believe he was the one to reduce you to such a mess. “oh, angel…”

copious amounts of his release flood from your cunt, leaving a translucent pool on your sheets. whilst he absolutely loves the sight and wishes to brand it on the forefront of his brain, nanami’s goal is still clear as day. 

he leans down and kisses your overstimulated clit, fingers dancing around your twitchy hole and gathering up his release before pushing it back inside with a curl of his fingers that makes you want to scream. 

“can’t waste any, my dear, or it might not take, remember?” when he looks up at you from in between your trembling thighs, the look on his face is nothing short of depraved, blonde strands of hair sticking to his forehead and cheeks stained red with excitement. 

“can’t wait to see my girl become a mommy.”

PREVIOUS : THE COLOUR RED ft. yae miko NEXT : BLACKOUT ft. tartaglia

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© choslut 2024 — do not copy, repost or translate my works without permission.

[sinsofnivan]

JUST THE TIP?! — RE MEN x YOU! — SMUT!

SUMMARY: no summary. just the tip gf x balls deep bf trope.

TAGS: implied marathon sex, dumbification, overstimulation, unprotected sex, this is all consensual, but just in case, i will tag this as dubious consent.

THIS IS MEANT FOR FANTASY ONLY.

PAIRINGS: LEON KENNEDY/you, LUIS SERRA/you, ALBERT WESKER/you, JACK KRAUSER/you, CARLOS OLIVEIRA/you, CHRIS REDFIELD/you.

A/N: consider this as an apology for being away, and will probably continue to be away after a while. T_T but i hope everyone has been doing well.

NSFW UNDER THE CUT!

LEON S. KENNEDY. ♡

you don't know how long you both have been indulging in each other—all you know is that your cunt's jus' so sensitive. but you want more. you need more. thinkin' about being empty and not being stretched full by your boyfriend's makin' your waterline glimmer with tears.

"leoooon, please—,"

leon stared at you, in awe that you were still conscious. aware. clearly, he's not fucking you properly. "please what, angel?" "fuck me—fuck me, please. need your cock. just put it in," his fingertips tease your clit, and you whine, shaking your head. "nooo—nooooo . . need your cock. please, leon,"

today, leon finds out his ovulating girlfriend can turn into a literal succubus.

"but you said your cunt's all sore, sweet girl. you were crawling away," open-mouthed kisses are bestowed on your cheek. "just the tip. just put the tip in," leon could feel his cock stir, quickly growing erect with your neediness.

"okay, baby. whatever you say," he kisses your teary eyes before hovering over you and grabbing ahold of your legs. just the tip. just the tip. just the tip. leon has to repeat to himself, lathering the leaking crown with his creampie mixed with your slick.

just the tip. just . . the tip.

your creampied pussy makes a lewd squelch as leon slowly pushes the head in. but you're both in cloud nine, eyes rolling like it's the first time you've fucked each other. "y, yes, like that!" you whimper, reaching over to your hypersensitive clit and making aimless circles.

leon begins to move, only giving your cunt shallow, slow thrusts. "fuck, angel—," he lets his head fall back, pleasure enveloping his tip. your cunt's so fucking wet and warm. your fingers pick up their pace, cunt throbbing with intense pleasure. who knew you could jus' get off from just the tip?

"faster,"

faster?

how can leon do that without shoving himself balls deep into you? "faster—pleaseplease, leon," you sobbed. "y/n—i," he bucked his hips, trying to go faster without splittin' you open with his cock. whimpers are spilling from leon's mouth, growing needier by the second, his vision continuing to blur as he eased just the tip in, as per your request.

the way you were clenching around him, creaming around his cock—it drove him crazy. how could he not fuck you? leon has to reminded himself that you want just the tip. but he's relying solely on instinct. and before he could even realize it, he's plunged himself deep by accident, and you're wide-eyed, an unanticipated orgasm taking you both by surprise.

"leon—♡!"

"y/n—i'm sorry, sorry—,"

he can't stop. he won't stop, pounding you into the mattress and making sure you feel every length of him with every ferocious thrust. he's drooling, watching you squirm. something about seeing your pussy spurt out clear fluid with every push in makes him feral, potentially unlocked a new turn on and fantasy to jerk off to.

"t, told you just the tip," you whimper, sniffling, and leon cradles your head, essentially smushing your face into his chest. "sorry. 'm sorry, sorry—i l, love your cunt." leon sobbed, his hips doing all the work for him, pummeling into you without mercy.

spit's shining on leon's built chest as you automatically kiss and lick at the area. marks in the shape of your canines are left, and leon hisses when you bite him again.

"gonna cum, y, y/n—gonna cum—cumming. 'm cumming, oh god,"

he vigorously rams his cock in your leaking pussy, hard yet hurried; it's sloppy, and leon's just desperate to fill you again. your moans are muffled by his flesh, and leon has yet to notice that he's crushing you with his chest. not that you minded, either.

with a few more unrhythmic slams of his hips, he's spilling himself in you, all of his cum just overspilling as he kept rutting into you. "hah— h, haah . . so good—so good," he babbles, spit dripping on his chin as his eyes rolled back. "leooohn—," you grunt from beneath your boyfriend.

it's only when his orgasm finally comes down that he stops moving, clarity slowly seeping into his fucked out mind. he retires from you almost immediately, now-concerned eyes soaking in the sight of you. did you pass out? "y/n," a hand caresses your rosy cheek.

"y/n, please come back to me,"

"mhh . . "

oh thank god. he knows you're just fine, but he was still worried. "are you okay?" he whispers, brushing away the stray strings of your hair. "i'm sorry, i was . . too into it," you chuckle when you feel him pepper your face with kisses.

"i'm fine. still in one piece, baby."

you both groan when he slowly pulls out, the rest of his creampies spilling out of your gaping cunt. "i love you, leon." you mutter, weakly wrapping your arms around him. "i love you too, angel."

LUIS SERRA. ♡

"luis . . just the tip,"

you both really shouldn't have fooled around with these aphrodisiacs. it's been hours and his cock's yet to come down. luis isn't even sure if he can cum anym—

wait. did he hear that right?

"what'd you say, mami?"

it's harder to hear you when you're bent over, and especially when you're mumbling and barely coherent. "the tip—jus' the tip," you whine. "is my bebé sensitive?" he drags a finger over your slit, and you squeak, body jerking in response. your knees almost gave out. "luiiis . . jus' the tip, p, por favor . . "

you poor thing. he affectionately runs a hand over your spine, down to your ass where he kneads your curvaceous flesh. "por supuesto, amor. we can go slow. and . . just the tip," [ of course, love. ] he thought he could do it. luis can control himself, can go slow if requested—usually—but the drug that ran through his veins made that fucking impossible. swallowing a nervous lump, he prods the tip against your slit. fuck, you're so fucking wet. this wasn't fair.

with a slow push of his hips, your warmth embraces his sensitive cocktip. "oh, fuck. oh my fucking god. dios mio," luis's grip on your ass tightens, his own way of restricting himself. "sólo quiero follarte," [ i just wanna fuck you, ] he confesses, but only thrusts the tip in and nothing else.

"me estás matando aquí, bebé," [ you're killin' me here, baby. ] luis babbled on, a shiver running down spine. "are you sure you're sensitive? y, you've been—you've been always able to take it," turns out, he didn't have it in him to fulfill your request. luis could hear the obscene squelches your creamy pussy made, and his brows narrowed as he winced, almost as if he was pained from your instruction. yet, his restrained thrusts—it was more like gentle rocking, to be honest—continued, the tip pulling out with an obscene pop with every withdrawal of his hips.

he enjoyed it, of course. more than anything. but luis was a greedy, hungry man. yearning more. needing more. your pussy was just so fucking inviting, creaming all over for him with just the tip—fuck, you can't ask this from him.

"bebé—y/n, i can't—can't take it anymore. i have to. t, tengo que follarte," [ i have to fuck you. ] your eyes widened when luis slowly slides in an experimental inch. you squeal, reaching behind you with one arm, but luis just pins it on your back.

the moment he's stuffing himself completely fucking full into you, you're just sobbing, legs shaking from the mind-numbing pleasure. luis was, too, not even realizing he had just cum in you. his hips moved like clockwork, "luis! luiissss—fuck!" was all you could cry out. you squirmed, writhed, tried to crawl away from the addicting pain of pleasure, but he's tugging you right back and slamming himself into you to the hilt.

"lo siento—lo siento bebé. feels good, h, haah . . " [ i'm sorry—i'm sorry, baby. ]

all that cum pouring out of you made it much, much easier to pound that cunt. "h, haaah—fuck! luiiss—," you sobbed, unable to stop your legs from giving out. his chest rests warmly on your back, and you feel a loving kiss pressed on your temple.

"te amo, te amo . . . " he murmured as he pummeled that pussy, making sure that the tip thwacked against your perky cervix and hitting all the right spots. your head rests nicely on the pillow, and you're so fucked out, you think you're about to pass out from all the pleasure.

the bed creaks as luis kept ramming his cock deep into you, and you squeal as another orgasm washes over your body. the nth orgasm made your eyes cross, made you see fucking stars as your legs quivered and you clutched the sheets helplessly. luis didn't see it, but he sure as hell fucking felt it as you squirt all over him and his legs. "dios—dios mio, you're making a fu, fucking mess,"

his thrusts begin to slow down, hard-on still intact, but the aphrodisiac wasn’t as strong as it was from the beginning. blinking, luis realizes he was crushing you by resting his whole weight on you. "shit, shit—y/n, i'm sorry," he shuddered when he slips out of your creampied pussy. "mierda, hace frío," [ shit, it's cold. ] is whispered to himself whilst he gently lays you on your back.

"luiiis . . " you huffed. "that's not the tip," "i know, i know. i'm sorry. but, in my defense, eso es imposible," [ that's impossible to do. ] an affectionate hand caressed your hair. "still sensitive, prinsesa?" you groggily nuzzle your face in his arms.

you only hummed. the next minute is spent in silence, as luis kept you warm and held you firmly. "next time, no more aphrodisiacs," you stir as he spoke, letting out a scoff. "what? booooo."

"wha—excuse you, señorita, why are you booing me?"

"oh, c'mon. don't lie. that was fun,"

"jesus, you are such a freak. me asustas. you need to read the bible or something,"

"wow. like it wasn't you who bought those pills!"

"oh. ehehe. right."

ALBERT WESKER. ♡

bro this gif im going to start s/creaming

you're already fucked out. already trembling from the orgasms wesker's given you, and it's all thanks to the new toys he had bought from his trip. a clit sucker and a vibrating, ridged, girthy dildo. you sobbed as wesker kept thrusting the toy in and out of you, making sure you take all of its length.

"f, fuck—! s, sir, cumming—, 'm cumming,"

there wasn't much you could do, not when a silk ribbon tied your wrists and ankles to the headboard. ( he bought those, too, by the way. ) "again? look at the mess you just made." you look over at the silicone, the base was coated in your creaminess—and it was already smearing to his already-soaked fingertips.

it was so easy for him to break you, and he hasn't even undressed himself yet.

your hips buck against the air, and the unintentional reflex just makes you grind your clit against the toy that lavished its attention on you. "fuuck—! fuckfuckfuck—, a, albert—!" you clutched onto the ribbons, eyes rolling as you felt your cunt throb with need. you were close, you could feel it in the pits of your stomach. "what was that?"

wesker clicked his tongue, clearly displeased. "you call me sir, brat. or are these toys getting into that head of yours?" you hear a few clicks, and your eyes widened when you realized that the clit sucker's set to its highest setting. "s, sir—i'm sorry! i'm sorry!"

the dildo could never compare to your sir's cock—never—but the extra sensations of the pulsations and the ridges quickly sent you to the edge, never missing where you were most sensitive, always grazing that spongy nub that made your mouth fall agape. "don't w, wanna cum anymore—too much," you whimpered.

"aw," he cooed, a small smile appearing on his lips; barely noticeable. "that's really too bad, pup." he taunts, giving you a slow, but hard thrust. you squealed, clutching on to your ribbons.

"you're not in charge here,"

your cries are music to his ears, and his eyes gaze over to your squirting cunt in amusement. even though you're trembling and drooling, he's yet to withdraw the toys from you.

"are you?" "n, no, sir!" he's tight-lipped and has yet to move an inch. "n, no, sir! i'm n, not in chaaaarge—y, you are!" "hm," good enough. much to your relief, both are turned off, and you're granted a few seconds of relief.

your body relaxes on the soft bed, chest rising as you pant. “colour?” wesker asks, a rough palm caressing your shaking thighs. “g, green,” you mutter. “good. ‘m not done yet,”

wesker retires from the bed, taking his sweet time in undressing himself. it was quite the sight, though; seeing him undo his tie, unbuckle his pants. his boxers had a wet spot from his leaking tip. “you’ve been a good pup, darling.”

the bed sinks with his added weight, and you watch him leave kisses on your inner thighs, stroking his cock with a spare hand as he lathered his pre all over his monstrous girth. fuck . . could you take that? you don’t think y’have it in you. but you didn’t want to stop. y’wanted him . .

“s, sir,”

you call, and wesker’s eyes tilt up. now that he was much closer, y’could see how blown out his pupils were. “yes, my love?” he asked as he positions himself, grabbing ahold of your thighs as he slaps his fat cock atop your mons.

“c, can you put just the tip i, in—?”

wesker acts as if he didn’t hear a word you just said, rubbing his length all over your slit—continuing to lubricate his shaft with your juices. you gasped when the tip slowly sinks in, and you finally get your answer when he slammed the rest of his girth into you. you screamed, back arching as your eyes crossed.

“why should i?”

he begins to rut into you, pummeling your sensitive cunt with mean thrusts. “tell me, pet. why should i?” you couldn’t utter out a proper response, not when your brain was turning to fucking mush as he pounded you. “speak up, slut.” the added nickname’s making you clench around him, and wesker only scoffed at your lack of coherence.

“gone stupid? from me just putting—hnngg—it in?”

with the position he had you in, it was impossible for the tip to not kiss your cervix, impossible for you to not scream for him as he mercilessly plowed that cunt. "s, sir—h, haaah . . ! fuck—!" your overstimulated pussy's fucking throbbing. a squeal's torn from you as his palm collides with your puffy clit with a smack! the sting's makin' your eyes fucking water, and you could feel your legs tremble again.

"will you tell me what to do again, pet?"

"n, no, sir!"

wesker grinned, rewarding your sore clit with a kind caress of his thumb. "good pet. that's—," he groaned. fuuuck, wesker shudders at the feeling of your cunt spasming around his girth. "—more like it. gonna—gonna fuck you how i want to," his words are emphasized with harsh thrusts, to drill that idea in your pretty fucking head.

"where i want to,"

"u, uh-huh!"

"when i want to,"

"u-uhnnn—y, yes s, siiiir . . ♡ !"

seeing how disheveled and how much of a drooling mess you were, were you even remembering what he was saying? probably not. but don't worry, he's more than willing to remind you where you belonged. he could no longer hold back his noises, but he wasn't even interested in trying, anyway.

the way he sounded—feral, almost beast-like, even—you'd be lying if you said it didn't incite more arousal from you. wesker ensured you felt all of him, hips moving without thought as he mercilessly slammed into that tight fit. unfortunately for you, he was more monster than he was human.

you were fucking tightening up around him—still adjusting from the sudden switch from silicone to flesh—and how could wesker ever resist ramming and bullying that pussy with his fat cock? the way he could see how he split you open, shuddering when his tip's right against your cervix—oh, you were such a sweet, sweet pet.

his cock throbbed with the ache of a release. you made it difficult for him to control himself. "fuck—'m gonna fill you up," he hissed. "think y'deserve a creampie from me, sweet girl?" smack! the collision of his palm on your cunt brings you back to reality for a brief moment. "i'm—i'm talking to you," he snarled, an you nod mindlessly. "s, sorrryyyy . . . y, yes sir! yesyesyesyes—please!"

you continue to beg him, plead for his cum whilst he busied himself with rearranging your fucking insides. it's all you could do amidst your fucked out state. don't you worry. wesker was more than satisfied with your expressions.

burying himself to the hilt, you let out a scream as an orgasm is forced from you again, fingertips affectionately rubbing on your clit. wesker can't decide where to look—if he should watch that pussy quiver as you squirted or your face that's contorting as your irises disappear behind your lids.

"yeaaaaah, just like that. look at you—fuck, you're such a slut,"

his hips stutter as spurts of thick, warm semen floods your womb and walls. wesker groaned, shivers pricking his skin. your cunt milked him so good; and not like he'll tell you, but he's fucking obsessed. obsessed with how you're so obedient fo him, how your cunt clenched around him as you quivered from overstimulation.

"tsk, you're leaking. tighten up, slut. don't spill any more," you only oblige him—it's all you could do in your fucked-out state. a groan echoes in the room as he slowly slips out from you. from where wesker knelt, he had the perfect fucking view of your gaping cunt, trying her absolute best to keep it all in as he asked. you squeaked when he caresses your puffy clit affectionately. "shh, shh . . i know," he cooed, the other hand undoing your restraints. you didn't have the strength to keep your eyes open.

the tension slowly rolls off your muscles as he sets your legs down slowly. "you did well, my love," you could feel him bestow kisses on your face. eyes, nose, lips—they were all showered in loving kisses. your wrists are set free as he undid the ribbons on your sore wrists, his lips ghosting over the red marks over your skin, too. "missed you, albert," you mumbled, eyes slowly opening. "i missed you too, my love," there's a faint smile on his face—meant to be witnessed by you only.

"you know we're not yet done, right?"

JACK KRAUSER. ♡

krauser really has lots of pent-up frustration and sexual frustration. blessed with inhumane stamina, it's really no surprise that he can last multiple rounds. 'specially when all of it just piles up on him, mmmm—god, he loves nothing more than taking it out on you and using you for fucking hours.

but krauser is mean. cruel. you want just the tip? that's really—

"too fucking bad, baby,"

that request is fucking impossible, because he's got you folded and locked in a full nelson hold. did you expect that he'd just not bury himself deep in your pretty cunt? your eyes widened as you watched his cock slowly stretched you out again. your cunt was too sensitive.

"n, no—krauser! don't! d, don't—pleasepleaseplease—,"

his balls only throbbed, eyes rolling as your pleas fall to deafened ears. your groans echo in the room as he pushes another inch or two into you. fuck, you need to breathe—

krauser laughed breathily in your ear. "what was that?" you couldn't muster a single word—it was all just pathetic squeaks. "just the tip, you say?" he'd purr, pushing in as slow as he can so your pulsating walls can feel every single inch stretching you. ruining you.

"c, can't—,"

"can't what? can't speak?"

he completely slams into you with a loud plap! you're speechless and fucking stupefied—but, frankly, what else is there to say? "urgg—feel that?" this fucking asshole just had to start gyrating his hips. you could feel the tip poke 'nd prod against that cervix, and fuck, you're trembling.

"c'moooon, sweets. y'better be awake,"

sticky drool's drippin' from those pretty lips as he began to pound you like he hated you. him doing all the work was not a problem, not at all. krauser could easily manhandle you, and he made sure that you knew. he was bouncing you on his cock like you weighed nothing and fuck—you couldn't even think of anything to say aside from his name and ah's! and oh's!

it didn't help his cock was a mix of both veiny and fucking gargantuan—you're convinced your cervix's all bruised because his tip kept hitting 'nd hitting all of your spots. "love your cunt—fuck, you like this? huh? bet you do. look at your cunt's reflection. messy fucking slut," he groaned, ramming into you vigorously. it's like he hasn't even broken a sweat.

"k, krauseeeer—," you sobbed, absolutely broken and cockdrunk. "yeah? 'm here," he pants, eyes threatening to roll back. but he had to watch you in the mirror, had to watch you crumble and go fucking stupid just from his cock. "what does my baby want, h, huh? want me to go faster?" before you had the chance to respond, he's fucking pummeling into you faster than you could even blink; you're fucking dizzy and barely lucid, but that's okay. no need to think, krauser's got you. ♡

"'m c, cummingggggg—cumming. j, jaaaaack—♡!"

"my fucking goooood—fuuuuuuck . . look at this squirting cunt,"

clear liquid's spurtin' out of that stretched pussy, coating him and yourself as he forces an orgasm outta you. you're so fucking hot, fuck. krauser's never ever ever letting you go. "you love my cock, babe?" if it wasn't for how both his large hands held your head, you would have nodded. "u, uh-huh! love—l, love your cock—♡!" "attaaa girl. i love your cunt so, so fucking much—♡,"

krauser doesn't even realize he's drooling himself—completely immersed in the pleasure. he could stay buried in you for fucking eternity. "fuck—wanna breed you. lemme breed—lemme breed you. need to knock you up," he babbled on, focused on jus' chasing his release. and with the pace of how he fucked you—it wouldn't take long.

and you?

you're fucking spritzing all over him everytime his tip grazes against that spongy nub in your dripping pussy. why'd you even ask him to not put it all in? clearly, you loved this. but don't worry. for once, he'll humour you. "y'wanted just the tip, right?" "h, hnnngg—♡," good enough of an answer for him. you're brought back to reality briefly when his movements halt. confused, you only watched your obscene reflections whilst he shifted his hips. "j, jack, what're you—?!" your eyes widened when you feel his tip slowly bury into the tight barrier of flesh in your cervix.

krauser whimpered. fuuuuuuck, you were sucking him in so good. he can't even pull out. "baby—baby, oh god. fuck, fuck. i'm fucking—cumming. 'm cumming—oh my gooooood," it didn't take any more thrusts for him to start filling your womb up with fertile, sticky cum.

you whined as your cunt's flooded with his seed, and you couldn't do anythin' except for clawing on his built forearms as he held you in place. "urgg—yeah . . . just like that . . fuuuck, i love your pussy baby," you couldn't utter a word. you felt so fucking full. krauser finally releases your head, but still held your body close as he settles on the edge of the bed. you practically collapse on his muscular frame when he finally sits, and that's okay. ♡ krauser made sure he held you tight, wrapping large arms around your body and leaning into you so he could kiss your face.

"tongue out, babe. lemme . . "

you oblige mindlessly, sticking your pretty tongue out for him. krauser's scarred lips wrap around your wet muscle, groaning as he sucked on it. didn't take long 'til he was devouring your spit-stained mouth as you cockwarmed him.

"mmmm. ♡."

CHRIS REDFIELD. ♡

this gif is so? um.

chris usually loves to prep you. loves to spend his time devouring your pussy and having his lips wrapped around that sensitive clit.

but you've got work in an hour, and time isn't a luxury you both have. "chris, j, just the tip, okay?" you say, raisin' your hips as you bent over the dining table; weight propped up on your soft palms. of course you can't say no to him, especially when the outline of his erected cock on his grey boxers is all you've been seeing this morning. but you're just a girl. you have needs and wants.

"just the tip?"

chris asks, pressing his clothed chest against your back. you feel his stubble against your cheek as he pressed open-mouthed kisses on your skin. "i don't . . i don't think i can do it, princess," he whined as his hips push forward. you couldn't utter another word as the leaking head stretches your cunt out.

you shuddered, lips quivering as you clutched on to whatever surface you were bent over on. "y, you caaaan—a, aaah, fuck—you have to . . ” you whined. but chris was greedy. hungry.

he’s not sure where he gets the courage to pull out, but he does. the tip slides out from you with a lewd, almost muted, pop! and you’re both unsatisfied, left yearning with feeling the other completely; but it makes do. it has to. tonight, he can have you for as long as he wanted.

“y/n, p, please—,” he pleads, still fuckin’ you with just the tip. chris can feel just how wet you are, hear how that cunt squelched as bucked his hips. “n, nooo—chris, i’ll—i’ll be late,” “don’t go,” his canines graze your skin, and you squealed when he pushes an inch in. your cunt’s pulsating—trying to accommodate his fat cock without prep. “don’t go—y’don’t h, have to go. please stay,” “ch, chris, i—hnnn!” the rest is completely slammed into you, and your eyes cross. chris takes advantage of your agape mouth, kissing you and letting his tongue glissade over yours.

chris starts to pound that cunt, and muffled cries were swallowed by his lips. you can’t really lie, this felt waaaay better than just the tip. the way the tip bulges out from your lower tummy, the way the pink crown keeps kissing that sensitive cervix, it can’t compare. ever.

“mhhhf,” you groan against his lips, and chris playfully bites down on your lower brim. it was hard to take in air when every thrust into you knocked the air outta your lungs. chris parts from you as he held your hips with those big hands of his.

his pace quickens, ramming into you mercilessly. you're both whimpering, voices blending together in melodious sin; whatever thoughts you had before—gone. not when chris had the skill to turn your brain to mush. "goddd—fuck, y/n. y, y'feel so goooood . . " chris sobbed. if only you could see his face. brows scrunched as he struggled to keep his eyes open; only you could bring these facial expressions to this big, beefy man's face.

you squealed when a hand snakes under your skirt, fingertips rubbing against your neglected clit. "oh fuck!" you mewled, unable to keep your cries to a low. "feel good, princess?" chris purred whilst fucking you into oblivion. "u, uh-huh—♡!" fuuuuck, his balls are fucking throbbing.

"d, don't go . . jus' stay. be my pretty little wife. i can t, take care of you,"

he babbled on, rutting into you, stuffing you full with that veiny cock. chris wants nothing more than to fucking breed you, fill your womb with his cum. "'m g, gonna fucking cum," he pants, chest heaving. but he doesn't stop pummeling that cunt—goes faster, actually. chasing his release and eager to give you yours. the table's creaking, and everything on it shook with every thrust. upstairs neighbour behaviour.

you screamed when he lightly pinches that sensitive bud, and you're seeing stars; mouth agape and back completely arched as he coaxes an orgasm from you. your legs trembled, and chris bit on his lip. "fuuuuck, baby. you're so hot—love you, i love you," "chriiiis, fuckfuckfuckfuuuuck. love youuuuuu . . ♡,"

your lips crash together again, sloppily kissing each other as chris fucks you through your high. he grunts, wrapping his lips 'round your tongue, tasting you. with another slam of his hips, you moan against his mouth when he's completely buried deep in you; thick ropes of cum flooding your creamy, spasming cunt. he can't move any more, can't think anymore. he pulls away from you, because he's sure he'll forget how to breathe.

"oooooh, fuuuck—♡,"

spit's trickling down his stubbled chin, and chris is quiet for a moment; sent to cloud nine and completely fucked out. it takes a minute or two for him to recover, and he tilts your head to the side so he could briefly kiss you while he slid out of your cunt. you both groan, and chris kneads your ass, watching his cum slowly leak from your gaping pussy.

"heheh . . gonna call in sick?"

well, you couldn't feel your legs, so. yes.

CARLOS OLIVEIRA. ♡

carlos watched you writhe whilst you came undone from his tongue. your fingers were tugging on his already disheveled, raven tresses. it's your fifth orgasm—he thinks, if he's counting right; and he'd gladly give you more. his wet kisses trail up your tummy, chest, lips, and you liked how your taste lingered on his tongue.

"carlooos,"

"yes, meu bebê?"

carlos gets a realization tonight.

"want more. 'jus wanna feel you,"

he spoils you a little too much.

your cunt was still twitching with need. you'd do anything to satiate your hunger, anything to relieve that arousal pooling in your tummy. even though he's spent the last few minutes coaxing orgasm after orgasm from you.

but he loved seeing you like this. desperate. needy. like he was the only person you needed. you knew just how to get his gears going without trying. "hmm? but you just came, meu bebê. my beard's still wet," he teased, lips latching on your neck and tracing your skin with sharp canines. you held on to his built biceps, and carlos brings your knuckles to his lips. "j, jus' the tip. please. i want more," "i know, i know, bebê. shh . . "

he can never resist you. especially when you were begging him so prettily. didn't take long for him to prod his tip against your needy hole. you both gasp when the tip slowly sinks in, slowly stretches that wet pussy apart. your nails dig into his skin, and carlos bit his lip. "fuuuck, y/n. your pussy—," fucking warm 'nd tight. clenching on him like you needed him.

carlos didn't mind being bossed around by you, especially by you. he'd do anything you'd ask before you could even blink, but he just has to remind you who's in charge.

you gasped when he slowly sheathes an inch or two into your tight cunt. "carlos, w, what're you—?!" he makes sure to slide in nice and slow, so you'll feel every inch of him splitting him open. and also so he can savour that surprised look in your face.

especially when he harshly shoves the rest of his cock in your leaking pussy, god. you'll kill him. "y, you're so unfair, princesa. so cruel t'me," he cooed, not even giving you the time to process a thought as he began to pound you with ungodly stamina.

"you think i don't have needs too? think i don't need to fuck this cunt and to fuck you 'til you're cockdrunk and overstimulated?" nasty mouth, nastier thrusts. your eyes crossed, body jouncing with every slam forward of his hips.

"c, carlos—h,hnnngg!"

he grins. "yeaaaah, that's right, baby. scream my name." you were so sensitive already, flesh walls spasming around his veiny girth, but fuck, you were oozing so much milky essence, it smeared all over his balls. he leans in so your lips could crash together, and carlos grunts against your mouth as you instinctively wrap you legs around him. of course he had to pick up his pace. why wouldn't he? he was such a good boyfriend to you, paying attention to all your needs.

you whine when he parts from you, but he has to, or else he'd lose his balance. he needed to focus on fucking you, tire his pretty bebê out. he bites his lip when you run your palms all over his built chest and abdomen.

"fuckfuckfuck—carlos—♡!"

a hand wraps around your breast, kneading your tits and running his fingers over your erect nipple. whatever thought you had, he quickly fucked it out from that pretty mind of yours. whatever. not like you needed to think when he could do that for you. well, try.

"y/n—♡ godddd, minha linda garota," [ my pretty girl, ] he babbles on, absolutely hypnotized. god, what were you doing to him? carlos kept pummeling that cunt, bed creaking obnoxiously in the process but it seemed that neither of you cared.

more marks littered his skin, ranging from bites to scratches, and they were definitely going to be sore later, but that's okay, a little pain didn't hurt no one. spit trickles down on carlos's stubbled chin, and you lift yourself up a little jus' so you could lick it up.

"y/n—♡! f, fuck! você é tão porra de suja, m, merda!" [ you're so fucking filthy, shit! ] hooking his arms around your thighs and lifting it up to his shoulders, you squealed when he begins to fuck you faster. harder. sounds of skin slapping growing louder as he rammed you without mercy.

a spare thumb began to trace aimless circles on your clit, and you screamed as an orgasm was ripped from your poor oversensitive cunt. "c, carlos—♡! oh fuck, fuckfuckfuckfuuuuck!" you clutched onto the pillows, sheets, fucking anything. you sobbed, and carlos gently flicks his middle finger against that puffy clit—you squealed as you squirt in small fountains.

"you're sensitive, aren't you, bebê? eu te quebrei, princesa?" [ did i break you, princess? ]

and oh, the way you only responded in fucked out mewls, how fucking precious. now that you've coated his girth in your squirt, it was much easier for him to move in 'n out. you could hear jus' how wet he made you, how that soaking cunt squelched with every thrust. you were such a slut for your boyfriend, and rightfully so.

he stops being cocky when his orgasm nears, grunts turning into high-pitched whimpers as he fucked you into the mattress. carlos tried to keep his monstrous, merciless pace, but fuck, he was so close. the closer he was to filling your cunt up and flooding your walls, the sloppier his hips got, probably from fatigue.

but you were such an angel, his god-sent angel, movin' your hips as you tried to meet his thrusts halfway. carlos could cum at the fucking sight of you trying to fuck yourself against him.

"oh god—♡! oh god, fuck, fuuuuck. vou gozar. vou te engravidar. ai meu deus." [ gonna cum. 'm gonna get you pregnant, oh my god. ] carlos sobbed, and after a few more push of his hips, he's crying out as ribbons of thick cum filled that cunt.

he rides his high out with a few more mindless thrusts, combing a spare hand through his hair. he's in fucking heaven, jesus christ. it's you that brings him back to reality, rubbing his forearm and eventually interlacing your fingers with his.

"oh my god, baby. are you okay?" he caressed your face, and you tiredly smile at him. "never better," you kissed his palm, and carlos tucks away the stray hairs on your face. "you sure? you okay? does anything hurt?" "no, i'm fine. well, a little sore and sensitive, but it's okay. i like it," a grin tugged on his lips, and he shook his head. "you're such a freak, baby. it's okay, i love you," a kiss is pressed on your forehead, nose, and then lips.

you shuddered when he pulls out, and his cum slowly leaks from your used, gaping hole. "i love you . . " you mutter, scooting over to the side so carlos can have the space beside you. he sighs in relief when he finally lays down, absolutely spent. "c'mere," carlos sleepily grunts, pulling you to his arms. you took it upon yourself to cover both your bare, sweaty bodies with the blanket.

"did i tire you out yet?" "hmm . . no, not really," you jeered, and carlos chuckled. "well, i certainly tired myself out," you both laugh, and it didn't take long 'til you both dozed off.

end.

A/N: thank you so much for reading! more to cum. ;) also, regarding carlos's fics, i will repair them soon and change his bilingual dialogue from spanish to portuguese. i'd like to apologize for mistaking him as hispanic!

[angelltheninth]

Can we get some Mark Grayson dating and first time having sex headcanons?

I finally caught up with Invincible season 3, so yes.

Pairing: Mark Grayson x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, established relationship, dating, cunnilingus, virginity loss, dry humping, creampie, scared of power use, breeding kink

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: Wanna see how long Mark will be able to stay positive this time. I'm not giving him a big time window for happiness.

As if it wasn't nerve wracking that you're losing your virginities to each other, Mark also has to be mindful of his superpowers

When you say you're sure that he wouldn't hurt you he tells you the embarrassing story of him breaking sex toys because he got too into it, he felt too good

He doesn't want to hurt you, this was supposed to be about pleasure

To ease into things he wants to eat you out first

Worst case scenario he gets you off with his mouth and tongue and then jerks off

Rips your underwear off with shaky hands

Almost drools at the sight of your pussy, dripping and waiting for him

Keeps his body against the bed so he can rut wildly into it, the friction making his cock twitch with need

Mark moans as he tastes you, finally, his tongue pushed all the way inside your clenching hole

When you say his name and tangle your hands though his jet black hair to pull him closer he relaxed a little, confidant that he can at least fuck you with his tongue

One of his hands presses against your lower back and pushes you up, allowing his mouth to close around your pussy, his lips nudging your clit, his tongue licking patterns in and out of your pussyhole

Sloppy as he is he's not a quitter, he'll eat you out until you squirt on his face

His pride quickly melts away as you pull him closer and tug on his erect dick, angling him with your entrance

Mark pulls back, still not sure about this, how can he be sure he won't hurt you

If he was normal, like you, he wouldn't have these fears, of course he would still be careful but he knows there would be less need to freak out like he is currently

You don't want him to back out of this because of fear, you keep pumping your hand up and down on his cock, keeping him hard and hot in your hand

The solution you come up with is that you will ride him

He can stand still if he wants, or he can simply hold you, while standing on his knees and watching you fuck yourself stupid on his incredible cock

Mark almost comes as soon as you take him past the tip

One of his hands balances himself on the bed, the other is pressed against your hip, encouraging and soothing your nerves at the same time

If it hurts you can stop, he won't hold it against you

But oh boy did he underestimate how much you want to fuck him

As soon as he's all the way inside and you've had time to adjust to his girth you pull away, you hear him gasp as his slick cock is revealed and then you slam right back against him, his cock back in your cunt where it belongs

Mark is mesmerized, barely managing to speak full sentences, he's talking about your hot pussy, how much he loves you, how nothing has ever felt this good, how this is so much better than his wet dreams made him think it'd be

The repeated smacks of your ass against his abs drive him crazy and he smacks one of your ass cheeks, chuckling and moaning when your pussy grips him tighter

Something about how tight you are, how your velvety walls are pulling him in is driving him crazy

He gets the idea to creampie you, the need to see you swollen with his seed, the urge to have his cum dripping from your pussy, the fantasy of fucking a baby into you, the dream of having a family and being a good father

Overtaken by this desire he pushes his hips into yours when you pull away, hardly ever leaving his cock out

You feel so warm he never wants to leave, and seeing as your pussy is only getting wetter, dripping all over the sheets, you like him being inside you too

Mark cups your jaw and trails his hand down your neck, grunting out how much he loves you as he slams deep into you and floods your womb with his cum

The torrent of heat makes your body tremble, your pussy spasming around him, your hips moving faster and faster, encouraged by his words

His arms wrap around you before you can fall against the bed and he leans back, pulling you into his lap and kissing your neck and shoulder

Nothing ever felt this good, he's not sure anything ever will

Tells you how much he loves you, how much fun this was, and in the midst of your words of love and giggles neither of you notice how his hand is constantly rubbing your belly

[strang3lov3]

Seeing Red

“Because if I don’t fuck you,” he says, “Then I’m gonna strangle you. So which would you like?”

Joel’s sorry that your period sucks, but he's reached the end of his rope with your attitude. (6k)

Tags - 18+ smut, brat taming, blow jobs, face fucking, rough period sex, fingering, mating press, overstimulation and multiple orgasms, creampie, aftercare in the form of a shared bubble bath, all things periods and period symptoms so headaches, breast pain, cramps, irritability that reader takes out on Joel. You will feel so bad for being such a cunt to this man but he gets to fill two of your holes with his cum so it all kind of evens out. takes place in jackson Fic help - @beefrobeefcal @noxturnalpascal and @endlessthxxghts thank you all for being my compass and giving me direction and helping to make this fic perfect. I love you <3 A/N - if you're on your period, i'm sending you a hug <3 if you're not i'm hugging you too

I was reminded of my friend @covetyou's fic "Sleepless" which is a lovely piece of classic literature, just like the rest of her works, and I'd like to credit her for inspo. Thank you Lo 🤎🩷💚

You should have guessed there’d be a bloodstain in your underwear, but despite the headaches, your sore breasts, and your cramping abdomen, you’re surprised when you’re met with rusty red in your panties. Fucking great, you whisper, dripping with sarcasm, this is not what you needed today. You had so many things you wanted to get done and now you were going to be spending the whole day miserable and in pain.

“Joel,” you loudly call out. You wait a beat, nothing. “JOEL,” you yell louder. 

You hear the faint sound of his recliner, the popping of his knees and the creaking of the stairs as he walks up them. His two feet are visible through the space between the floor and the bathroom door and then he knocks, “Whatcha need, darlin’?”

“New underwear,” you answer. “And a pad. Also in the underwear drawer.” 

Joel walks away and returns with what you’ve asked for and slides both items under the door. You change your panties and secure the pad made of old rags and t-shirts with the clothespin attached to it. “You got it?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you reply.

“Guessin’ you just started your cycle, then.” 

“Mhm.” 

“Can I get you anything?”

“Nope,” you answer. “I think I’m just gonna go to bed.” 

“Alright. I’ll join you, then.” 

 You wash your hands and rinse the bloodstain out of your panties with annoyance in the sink, wringing them out before tossing them in the dirty laundry hamper in the bathroom. When you unlock the door and leave the bathroom, Joel’s already asleep in your shared bed. He sleeps curled on his side and yet he still fucking snores - between that and the pain you’re in, you know it won’t be a restful night of sleep. You look at Joel, sleeping peacefully like a baby, and yet you wanna beat the living fucking crap out of him. You curl your body around his, stealing his body heat to soothe your cramps. 

Joel wakes up early the next morning and greets you with a kiss pressed to the side of your head. “Fuck off,” you mumble, your voice is still thick with sleep but he knows you mean it so he lets you sleep in a bit while he cleans the bathroom for you. He works as quietly as he can, scrubbing it and mopping it from top to bottom. He empties the trash can and the laundry hamper, he makes sure there’s a fresh bar of soap and a new washrag for you. Joel’s just finishing up and wiping dust from the mirror when you find him in the bathroom. “Mornin’, sunshine,” he says as he kisses the top of your head. “How do you feel?” 

“Shitty.” You grab at the mirror and Joel’s skin crawls as you touch the glass with your thumb, the smudges left behind from your fingertips clear as day on the freshly cleaned glass. He’ll just touch it up later. You pull out your toothbrush and frown, your nose scrunched in disgust. “It smells like bleach in here,” you complain.

“Well, yeah,” Joel chuckles. “I just cleaned it for ya. ‘Course it smells like bleach.”

“I didn’t ask you to do that,” you mumble. “The bleach you used makes my head hurt worse.”

“Oh,” Joel scratches the back of his head and frowns. “M’sorry, then. Well, we can let it air out for a while, we’ll leave the fan on. Shouldn’t smell for more than a day or so.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

If looks could fuckin’ kill, Joel thinks. You’re glaring at him. He takes that as his cue to leave. You shrink away from him as he gently brushes your arm when he walks past, then shut the door loudly behind him. Ouch. Joel knows not to take it personally, though. You’re crampy, but you’re also probably hungry. He’ll make you breakfast, something with protein because he knows you need it. 

He cleans the kitchen first. He washes the dirty dishes you must’ve forgotten about last night and wipes crumbs from the table. As you come downstairs dressed in sweats and a shirt you stole from Joel, he’s finishing up making your breakfast. “Sit down, I made your favorite.” 

You sit down at the table with your head in your hands. Joel puts a plate with two slices of perfectly golden brown toast and two over-easy eggs in front of you, then a fork and a knife on either side. He fills a glass with water for you as well. He walks away to clean up the stove, then turns around to check on you. Your face is contorted in disgust and you’re not eating. “What’s the matter?”

“I don’t want this,” you grouse.

“But s’your favorite. You love your eggs over easy,” Joel says. “And the toast, that’s fresh bread and butter. Eat up.” 

“Yeah, but I wanted scrambled.” 

Joel stares at you for a moment, dumbfounded. You usually hate scrambled eggs, and he knows this. But you’re not smirking or holding back laughter like you’re fucking with him. So maybe your tastes have changed, who knows. “Okay. Would you like me to make you scrambled eggs instead, then?”

“Yes,” you mumble in a small voice. 

“I didn’t hear ya, sweetheart. Speak up, please.” 

“I said yes,” you snap. 

Your clipped tone cuts like a knife. Joel bites his inner cheek as he takes your plate from you. He quickly scarfs down the perfectly cooked eggs and toast as he makes you a new plate of breakfast, this time with scrambled eggs. He places it in front of you with a little less care than before and waits for you to take a bite. “Better?”

“Just okay.” 

‘Just okay’. Of course you think it’s ‘just okay’, they’re scrambled fucking eggs - which you don’t like. You’re just being - 

Joel needs to cool off. Hopefully once you’ve eaten you’re a little less irritable. “I’m gonna head out an’ do some errands. Be back shortly,” He’s met with no answer from you, which he expected. 

-

He comes back an hour or so later with a few things from the market he’s been needing along with a couple of VHS tapes that he rented from the library. “So,” Joel says, “I picked out some movies for ya.” He lays four tapes down on the coffee table in front of the couch where you lay. “When Harry Met Sally, that’s a good one,” he begins, “Next is How To Lose a Guy In 10 Days, then Blade Runner, and I picked out My Cousin Vinny,” Joel says. He thinks you’re gonna pick out Blade Runner because it stars Harrison Ford, who he knows you have a thing for. “My Cousin Vinny is pretty good, I don’t think we’ve seen that one yet f’ya wanna give that a try.”

“Mmm, no.” 

Shot down. “Okay. How ‘bout Blade Runner, then. S’got Indiana Jones in -”

“No. I don’t care,” you interrupt, which hurts Joel’s feelings a little. A lot, actually. “I wanna watch this one,” you point to How To Lose a Guy In 10 Days. “He’s cute.” 

Of course you picked the Matthew McConaughey movie. God, Joel fucking hated him. He always seemed so skeezy, if there’s anyone who should’ve bit it on Outbreak Day, it should’ve been Matthew McConaughey. “Yeah, okay. Whatever. Do you think he’s dreamy too?”

“Fuck off, Joel.” 

So teasing’s off the table too, he’ll add that to the list of things that have pissed you off today. Joel turns on the TV and puts the tape in the VHS player before he sits back down next to you. At first you rest on his shoulder, then you spread out and lay your head on his lap. It’s not long before you fall asleep on Joel, leaving him to watch this dumb fucking movie all by himself because god forbid he move you and disrupt your nap. He knows better than to do that. 

-

“So fuckin’ stupid,” Joel whispers to himself as the movie plays, though he did find himself enjoying the part where the Kate Hudson sings “You’re So Vain” by Carly Simon. He always did like that song. 

“Mmmm,” you groan, shifting onto your back. Joel’s hand is stroking your hair as you look up at him, but you push it away. “You’re too close to me,” you grumble. 

“What’re you talkin’ about?” 

“You’re crowding me. I feel smothered.” 

Joel scoffs. “Oh, you feel smothered? You’re the one who laid on me.” Once again, your glare is all that you need to say. “Alright then, I’ll move.” Joel concedes. He lifts your head gently and scoots down to the opposite end of the couch. And then he hears you huff. “What?”

“Well, now I don’t have a pillow.” 

Joel sighs as he gets up to grab a throw pillow from the opposite couch. 

“The other one.” 

You’re referring to the other throw pillow that’s absolutely indistinguishable from the one currently in Joel’s hand, but he gets it for you anyway. “Lift your head,” he says softly, putting the pillow under you. He sits back down in the spot you made him move to as you both watch the movie play, but your soft groans interrupt. You’re no doubt in pain from all the cramps right now. “I’ve got somethin’ like a heating pad,” Joel says, looking at you. “S’a big sock filled with rice, I heat it up and use it for neck and back pain. Would that help with them cramps?” You nod without making any effort to meet Joel’s eyes, which he finds a little rude. But still, you’re hurting. He’ll give you grace. 

So, once again, Joel gets up for you. He goes upstairs to get his rice sock from his nightstand, then comes back downstairs and heats it in the microwave for a couple of minutes. He pokes the sock to make sure it’s plenty warm for you and then gives it to you to take. “Here,” he says, “Hold it on your tummy.”

“JESUS,” you yell at him. 

“What?”

“It’s too fucking hot, Joel, why would you make it so hot?” 

 “Just give it a second, sweetheart, you’ll get used to it.” 

“No. It was burning me.” 

“Okay, then let me have it and we’ll let it cool off a minute. Christ almighty.” Joel takes the sock back from you, and he knows his hands are pretty calloused but…it doesn’t feel that hot. When a few minutes have passed, he gives it back to you. “This should be better.” 

You lay the big, warm stuffed sock across your stomach and frown. “It’s not warm enough.” 

“You have gotta be kiddin’ me.” 

“Mm-mm,” you shake your head, giving Joel back his sock like you just assume he’ll heat it up again for you. 

“Just a couple minutes ago you screamed bloody murder about it burnin’ you. And now it’s not hot enough?”

“Yeah, that’s what I said.” When Joel doesn’t jump immediately to reheat the sock for you, you look at him impatiently. “Joel.” 

“You can ask, you know.” 

But Joel gets the hint and gets up for you a third time to reheat the sock he’s letting you borrow. You don’t say please, and when he returns with the sock reheated, there’s no thank you either. What does he get from you? “It’s too hot.”

“Then tell me how I should rectify that for you, because last time I let it cool off and it wasn’t warm enough for ya after.” 

“I don’t know,” you snap. “You’re just really upsetting me right now. Everything hurts and your voice is grating.”

“I’m upsetting you?” Joel repeats your words back to you. “And my voice is grating.” 

“Yes.” 

He’s about at his wits end. “You know, you–” Joel decides not to finish that sentence. Instead, he sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose and breathes out on the count of five. “Two, three, four…You need to drink some water. S’your first issue, you’re probably dehydrated. Did you drink any water?” 

“It’s not your business.”

 Jesus fucking Christ. “Okay, well I’m makin’ it my business.” Joel gets up for the fourth goddamn time and slams the cup cabinet before filling a glass with water from the sink. He marches back to the couch, “Sit up,” he says. “Drink.” 

“I don’t want to,” you whine. 

“It’ll fix your headache. Drink.” 

“It won’t actually, that’s a myth.” 

“Right, what do I know when you’ve got an answer for fuckin’ everything. Drink.” 

You sit up, scowling at Joel as you take a sip. 

“All of it.” 

You drink the rest of it, glaring at him the whole time. He’s so full of shit, as if any of what you’re going through could be fixed by drinking a glass of water. Water won’t fix your cramps, won’t fix your aching and sore back. When you’re done, you slam the glass on the end table next to you and in doing so, break Joel’s reading glasses. Oops. Didn’t see those. The lenses aren’t shattered, but one of the arms is all bent now. When you look at Joel, he’s biting his bottom lip and breathing deeply. “Your glasses broke.” 

“Yeah. I see that.” 

“I didn’t mean to,” you tell him defensively.

“Right.” 

“But you really shouldn’t leave your glasses there, Joel.”

“Yeah, right. Shouldn’t leave my glasses on the end table,” Joel says. “I should leave them where, exactly? Maybe the floor?” 

“Somewhere else.” 

“Right. Somewhere else.” 

He’s hoping that by repeating your words back to you, you start to hear how absolutely ridiculous you sound. But you don’t seem to. Joel turns and walks away before he fucking throttles you. 

“Can you put on the next movie? I wanna watch My Cousin Vinny.”

Now, now you want to watch that movie. And Joel’s gonna miss out, because he can’t stand to be around you for one minute longer. “Are your legs broken?” 

“Yes.” 

Walked into that one. “You’re fuckin’ impossible. Fine. I’ll put it on, then I’m goin’ away for a bit.” 

“Good.”

Oh, he could fucking kill you. This whole day he’s heard nothing but complaints from your mouth, no pleases or thank you’s at all. Everything he’s done today has been for you, and you couldn’t give a flying fuck. 

Joel puts on the movie, grabs his bent glasses from the end table and heads out to the garage without saying a single word to you. You wonder what bug crawled up his ass. 

-

My Cousin Vinny plays just fine until Vinny shows up in his ridiculous suit to the courthouse. The tape begins to skip a whole bunch, the movie barely making sense, and you have no idea how to fix it - not that it’s your job to know, anyway. So you call out the name of the man whose job it is. 

“Joel.” 

No answer. 

“JOELLLL,” you yell. 

Same deal. You sigh as you sit up and get off of the couch, walking to the garage door. There’s finally a break in your cramps and you’re feeling halfway-human for the first time since yesterday. Entering the garage, you find Joel sitting at his workbench, he’s working on bending the frame of his glasses back into shape. “Joel.” 

He doesn’t turn around to look at you and in fact, he heard you calling for him. He had just ignored you. “Looks like your legs are workin’ now,” Joel replies, without looking at you. “S’a miracle. Means you can follow me around now, terrific.”

You choose to ignore his sarcasm. “Whatever. You need to do something for me. The VCR is messing up and you have to fix it.”

“Hm,” he hums.

“What’s hm?” 

“I’ve fixed lotsa things for you today,” he says quietly. “I need some time to fix my glasses that you broke. S’a difficult task on account of the fact I need my glasses to see.”

“You can do me one favor, Joel. It won’t kill you.” 

Joel stops and gently places his broken glasses on his work bench. He turns to his right and glares daggers at you. “One favor,” he scoffs. “Oh, you’re a fuckin’ peach. You wanna try that again?”

“Try what again?” 

You’re fucking with him. You have to be fucking with him. Why are you fucking with him? You’re not antagonistic like this, not usually, so he concludes that you must be looking for a fight. At this point, Joel is too. 

“I’ve done you countless favors today, sweetheart,” Joel gripes.

“Yeah, but-” you begin.

Joel’s large, warm hand suddenly covers the lower half of your face, silencing your argument. “If the next words outta this mouth aren’t thank you, then I don’t wanna hear ‘em. In fact…”

He bites his inner cheek, nodding his head as he thinks. The way he stares at you, his dark eyes piercing through you - you feel the chill deep in your bones. A wave of clarity hits you as you recall some of the details of the day, the way Joel was there at every turn and while you were busy being cranky and achey, he was trying to wait on you hand and foot. Shit. You’ve been a Grade-A bitch to him all day, a total fucking cunt.

Breaking the silence, Joel finally clears his throat and continues his thought, “I’m gonna give you two options,” Joel says. “You can walk the fuck away from me, or you can get on your knees. Whichever you choose, you do so silently. Nod if you understand.” 

It’s like you’re watching a scene from a movie. You hear Joel’s words, but you almost don’t believe they’re real and so they don’t quite register. He pulls his hand away from your face slowly. Your mouth falls open a bit but you don’t say or do anything.

“Nod. If. You. Understand.” You nod quickly. Joel awaits your decision as you look at the garage door and contemplate your clean way out from this situation, “So what’ll it be?” he asks. Despite it all, that uneasy feeling in your gut, you drop to your knees anyway, eyes still lingering on the door before you look up at Joel. You trust him to take care of you and you think you might owe him this obedience after your behavior today. “You’ve earned yourself brownie points choosin’ the latter of the two options, but this still ain’t gonna be fun for you,” he says. It should scare you - and it does - but you’re still thrilled by it, by the way he sighs and his knees crack as he gets off of his barstool, by the cold look in his eyes as he reaches under his thick belly to unbuckle his belt. Standing above you, he pulls out his half-hard cock and pumps it, feeling it grow to full length in his hand. He’s thick, veiny, and generously sized, a pearly white bead of precum sits atop his slit. His cock is just an inch or two away from your mouth as he holds it between his fingers, his thumb on top and middle and forefingers on the underside. With his other hand, he cards his fingers through your hair and pulls you close, the tip of his cock pressing against your lips. “Open.”

You part your lips open and with that, Joel pushes himself into your mouth inch by inch. You smell him first, that musky and heady sort of scent. Next, you taste the saltiness of his skin and his precome on your tongue and for a moment it’s pleasurable, with his cock halfway in your mouth. You wrap your hand around the end of his shaft like you know what he wants but you don’t know, not really - Joel holds your hand in his own and squeezes it so that your knuckles grind against each other a little bit. He pushes himself further and you can’t lick him or savor this like you wanted to, you just feel his cock intruding, sliding into your mouth. Joel’s testing you, making sure that you can handle all of him and if you can’t, you know he’ll make you. 

He draws out of your mouth entirely only to force his way back in, making you gag and sputter. You attempt to pull away but Joel keeps his hand firm on your head and holds you right where he wants you. “Nuh-uh. I don’t know where you think you’re goin’, hon.” 

There’s no gentleness to it, he fucks your mouth heatedly so that you’re drooling and choking on him, your eyes springing with tears as that pressure builds behind them. “Breathe through your nose,” he reminds you. “In and out. You ain’t done jus’ ‘cause you’re cryin’.” Your lips are sore with the repeated action, your jaw is aching. He rolls his hips, his cock is deep down your throat as he relishes in your warm, wet mouth and the way it makes him feel. 

“Mmm,” you moan, you’re not sure if the noise is indicative of your pleasure or discomfort.

“Quiet,” he growls. “Heard fuckin’ enough outta you today. You keep quiet.”

Your nose is buried in that thatch of coarse curls as he rocks his hips over and over, his soft and pillowy tummy bouncing against your forehead. You squirm and whine as his tip teases the back of your throat and your mouth feels so full, uncomfortably so. Joel picks up on that. “Let it be a lesson to ya, then, if it hurts. That mouth ‘a yours has done nothin’ but bitch and moan at me today. S’a punishment, ain’t ‘sposed to feel good.” 

He’s grunting and groaning, eyes screwed shut as he uses you, pumping in and out of your mouth. Your jaw aches with the brutality of the way he fucks your mouth, and just as you think you can’t take anymore, you feel Joel’s cock begin to twitch and pulse. He comes in your mouth without a warning, painting your tongue with his hot spend. It’s salty and bitter and warm on your tongue. Once you’ve swallowed, Joel reaches down and yanks you up by your bicep. He thought fucking your mouth and coming down your throat would make him feel better but honestly, it doesn’t. As he looks at your face, all puffy with tears and swollen lips, he can’t quite find it in himself to let go of his anger. Not yet, at least. “Let’s go,” he grunts as he drags you with him towards the garage door. He marches you though the house and up the stairs. 

“Where are we going?”

“Bedroom,” Joel growls, answering your question like it’s obvious. You suppose it should be, but you figured he was done with you. But he’s not. The regret begins to set in when you realize the retribution you’re about to be met with for the way you’ve treated Joel today. You’d be lying if you said that while wallowing in your pain you didn’t notice how your curt tone got under his skin, hurt his feelings and frustrated him immensely. The dread you feel can’t save you, it’s all too late now. 

 “Because if I don’t fuck you,” he says, “Then I’m gonna strangle you. So which would you like?”

“Fuck me,” you whisper. 

“Exactly.” 

Joel pushes you into the bedroom and locks the door behind himself. “Lie down on your back,” he says. 

You protest, “But the sheets, Joel. The blood–”

“I will wash the fucking sheets. We can add it to the list of all the things I’ve done for ya today, hm?”

When you don’t jump at his request, Joel takes initiative. He pulls off your - his - shirt from your body and then bends you over the end of the neatly made bed, the old and worn comforter feels rough on the skin of your cheek. Joel pulls down your sweatpants and panties in one motion and then flips you over onto your back, your legs hanging off the end of the bed. You feel embarrassed when you catch a glimpse of your bloodied pad and underwear, moreso when you feel yourself making a mess on his bedding and between your legs. 

“You didn’t make yourself come today, did you?”

“Uhh–” you stutter. “I - I…”

“No point in gettin’ bashful now, darlin’. Just gimme an answer.”

“No,” you tell him. It’s been a while. 

“Figures.”

Joel had assumed sexual frustration had been playing a role in your attitude today. Cramps, headaches, all sorts of things going on with you and a needy, aching pussy to boot. He does feel sorry for you, but he feels sorry for himself too. It’s why he got his first, but now it’s time for you to get yours. An orgasm should set you straight, or two or three. Whatever he feels is necessary. 

Joel undresses himself before pushing your thighs apart and hitching your legs around his waist. Slowly, he slides his thumb through your folds and then circles your clit. He knows you’re vulnerable like this - bleeding pussy on display for him as you make a mess of his sheets. But he’s patient, and he massages your clit calmly until you finally let a moan, a little mmm slip. He smirks at that. 

He pushes his middle two fingers inside you, pumping in and out slowly. He then curls his fingers, searching for that sweet spot on a woman he loves so much. “Fuck,” you cry out, legs instinctually closing shut around him, and he knows he’s found it. 

“Don’t fight it,” he says, opening you back up. He curls his fingers and circles your clit in tandem, making all sorts of lewd noises with your cunt. He admires your body all laid out for him like this, your breasts and your pebbled nipples, soft tummy rising and falling with your breathy oh’s and ahh’s, thick curls framing your pretty pussy like a picture just for him. Joel takes his free hand and uses it to press down on your lower stomach, intensifying the feeling of it all. You come hard, gushing on his fingers as you whimper his name. 

Joel pulls his fingers from your core and wipes them haphazardly on his own torso. “Joel,” you gasp when you feel the thick head of his cock at your entrance.

“I am sorry,” he begins, notching his tip inside you and popping it out. He slides the blunt head through your folds and over your clit, then taps the sensitive part of you with himself. “That you’re in pain. It isn’t fair and I know that. But you’ve done nothing but take your hurt out on me.” He presses himself inside you again, “I’ve got a half a mind to take my own hurt out on you, y’know.” His voice is dark and angered, but he speaks calmly in a way that contrasts the darkness but maintains his authority all the same. “And I think I’m gonna.”

“Joel, I– ”

“Quiet,” he commands. He begins teasing your slit with his cock once more before he speaks, “So this is what we’re gonna do: you’re gonna take what I give you, however much or little it is. You’re not gonna cry or complain ‘cause you’ve done enough of that today. Right?” Joel pauses, “Nod your head.” 

 You obey his rule and nod, yes.

He drags his cock up and down your cunt again, the soft skin of your labia rubbing so nicely against his thickness. He notches himself inside you over and over again, pushing in a little bit deeper each time and pulling back out. You whine, rolling your hips in search of more. “I know, I know, sweetheart,” he coos at you to quiet you down. “You’re all out of sorts today. M’gonna fix it. I always fix it, don’t I?”

Yes. You nod again. Quiet.

“S’right,” he says. “Good girl.”

With that, Joel pushes his leaking cock into you entirely, one gradual slide that has you sucking in a breath that comes out in a strained sort of whimper. His hard, warm shaft parting your insides, filling you whole. Joel hears it in the way that you sigh, that this, this is what you needed. He rocks his hips once, twice. Experiments with shallow thrusts, inching his way in and out of you before he draws out of your pussy entirely only to thrust himself right back in, deeper and harder than before. 

With the fullness of Joel inside of you, everything seems to melt away - all that anger, misplaced or not. Joel’s rhythmic thrusting soothes you, sort of. The soreness of your body, the aching cramps in your abdomen are all gone as you focus on the in and out, the in and out. He builds a comfortable pace, but one that borders on too much too soon. His hands on your waist, pulling you towards him as he pushes into you in equal measure. 

He fucks you without discipline, no tenderness at all to the action with those sloppy thrusts, but you’re more lost in him than he is in you - he’s focused on your face, watching you make an ‘O’ with your mouth, and he’s focused on your bouncing body, your twitching thighs spread wide. Your moans, your whimpers and your whines, babbling nothing but nonsense. Joel’s brow is furrowed as he breathes heavily through his teeth, his soft body jerking above you as he hits that sweet spot inside you over and over and over…

“It’s all ya needed, isn’t it? The whole goddamn time,” he pants. “Didn’t need to go an’ bitch me out all day if you needed lovin’ like this. Woulda been nice f’ya just said so.” Joel reaches for your breasts, harshly squeezing the tender, sore flesh. You wince in pain and he loosens his grip, focusing on your nipples instead. He twists and flicks the sensitive buds and your moans become louder, more high pitched. Joel fucking loves it when that happens, you never realized. 

“Oh, Joel,” you moan, “Yeah, fuck.” 

With one hand still teasing your nipples, he brings the other to your pussy. A few strokes of his thumb on your clit is all it takes to send you over the edge a second time, wanton moans and choked sobs spilling from your lips as he fucks you through it. 

And fucks you, and fucks you. 

And keeps fucking you. 

It doesn’t end, he doesn’t slow himself and you never feel that come down, that descent from pleasure. It keeps going, like pressure with nowhere to go and you feel like you might break. “I can’t, I need you to stop, stop, Joel.”

“Nuh-uh,” he shakes his head, thrusting still. “You can take it, be a good girl. Gonna fuck you good and deep like you need. You brought this on yourself, anyway. Two more.” 

This whole time, he doesn’t stop. It’s so much at once and when you thought it was going to end, it doesn’t. Tears of overstimulation spring in your eyes and flow freely down your cheeks. Joel lets you cry because he knows you need it, he knows the release is good for you. You poor thing, how much you must be feeling right now, both physically and mentally. “It’s too much, Joel, I can’t,” you plead.

 “Always the tears with you, huh?” he taunts. “Always somethin’. Oh, I know. I know.” 

It’s the way you look at Joel that causes him to cave, eyes all wide and tear-stained. You’re spent and he knows it, what with all that your body’s put you through. You’ve had a rough day and though he did too, he can’t help but feel sympathy for you at this moment. “Oh, my sweet girl. What am I gonna do with you, hm?”

“I don’t know,” you sniffle. 

“Know you don’t, ‘n you don’t have to. S’my job,” he soothes. With his clean hand, he traces the side of your face and rubs his thumb over your cheekbone. “How about this, then - what are we gonna do next time you’re not feeling so good?” 

“I’m - I’m–”

“You’re gonna tell me what you need,” he instructs, “And you’re gonna ask for it. Nicely. So that means usin’ your manners. Please, Joel. Thank you, Joel. Remember those words?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “Yeah, I remember.”

 “But you forgot ‘em the whole day today,” Joel says softly. “I think you gotta learn to compromise, too,” he adds. The guilt had begun to set in before, but you really start to feel the burn now. You were unkind to Joel, and he’s been nothing but sweet, doting on every one of your needs. “I think an apology’s in order for the way you treated me today.” 

He’s right, and you know it. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, Joel.”

“Oh, I know you are. You just needed the reminder, s’okay,” You hadn’t even noticed how his thrusting had slowed to a still until it picks up again slowly, as he presses kisses to you. Your cheeks first, then your lips. “I’ll compromise too - I’m only gonna make you come one more time, not two. Sound good? Sound fair?”

“I don’t think I can, Joel…”

“Yeah, you can, s’the last one. Take it good for me,” he encourages. “Take it good.” 

That’s what he repeats as his thrusts build again, fucking you deeply. Take it good, take it good for me. He hikes you up further on the bed and joins you so that he’s no longer standing at the floor, he’s got you pressed in half instead, your knees on either side of your chest and your feet above his shoulders. This angle intensifies everything and he knows, oh he knows how much it is for you. You’re tired, sore, overstimulated. But you’ll be done soon, he’ll be done with you soon. He takes your hand and wedges it between your bodies, pressing your own fingers to your clit, “Let go for me, I wanna feel you let go for me,” he says. “Focus right here. You’re gonna come with me, keep your eyes on me…”

You don’t even have to massage your clit, the way Joel angles himself has his body doing all the work, his pubic bone adding pressure to your fingers adding pressure to your clit. It’s intense, all of it - deeply energetic, overwhelming. You can’t quite discern your orgasm as it builds, there’s no definitive start but it’s powerful, devastating almost. Washing over you in waves, you feel it in the base of your spine first. You feel it in your gut, the backs of your thighs all the way to your toes. You hardly register that he’s coming with you, filling you deep with his come. His jaw is clenched tight and he’s groaning, grunting as he milks himself in you.

He leaves you there, whimpering, twitching on the bed. You hear the faint sound of running water, you figure he’s washing himself off. You’re surprised when he returns to you, pelvis covered in your blood, and scoops you right up in his arms. He helps you to your feet and on shaky legs, guides you to the bathroom. It no longer smells like bleach but instead, lavender. He’s got a candle lit on the sink and the bathtub is filled with warm, bubbly water. “Picked out a bubble bath for you earlier when I went out. Wanna test it out with me?” 

“Yeah,” you sniffle. “Yes. Please.” 

Joel sits in the tub first, spreads his legs and welcomes you to sit between them. He washes the blood from your poor, sensitive core and your thighs, washes it from his own body as well. When he’s done, he pulls you back into his chest and his hands find your breasts. “They’re tender, huh,” he murmurs into the side of your head. 

“Super, yeah. Sore.” 

“I’ll bet,” he says. He gently massages the tissue for you, his strong hands working you out in a way you can’t quite do. 

“Thank you,” you whisper. 

Joel chuckles. “Bout fuckin’ time you thanked me,” he says. “You’re welcome.” 

If you enjoyed, please reblog with thoughts, leave me a comment, or send me an ask! Your words motivate me to keep writing for you all 🩷

Least helpful cats award goes to these two 👇 if you’ve ever wondered what takes me so long to put fics out, it’s this. I try to write and I’m cockblocked by these fuzzballs.

[s-4pphics]

candy crush. (e.w.)

SYNOPSIS: you’re too sweet, and ellie hates it. 

WORD COUNT: 4.3K

WARNINGS: recordshopmanager!ellie, crumblcookiebaker!oc, hurt/comfort, ellie’s a cunt, ocs too sweet, FLUFF?? FROM ME??? HUHHH, crushing, slight suggestive thoughts

A/N: idk where this came from lol

Ellie’s reorganizing the vinyl selection when a delicate hand lands on her shoulder. “I know your miserable ass doesn’t enjoy company,” Dina hisses in her ear, purposefully hushed, “But you got company.” 

Ellie’s eyebrow quirks with confusion, leaving the earplug that blasts Head like a Hole to dangle over her shoulder. Her eyes glaze over the semi-filled shop, narrowing in on every face until she locks eyes with you from behind the guitar displays. The eye contact only lasts about 1.5 seconds before Dina smacks her leg. 

“Don’t look. You’re gonna make it weird.” Dina quietly snaps from beside her, occupying her hands with some misplaced records. 

“You know her?” 

“I see her around sometimes. I think she works nearby,” Ellie catches her smirking from the corner of her eye, “… I think she likes you.” 

“Fuck off.” 

“I’m dead serious. She’s been staring for the past 10.” 

“At who.” 

“At you, dipshit.” 

Ellie can’t help herself. She takes one experimental glance in your direction; discovers you typing away at your device with a black mask pulled down under your chin, bottom lip trapped between your teeth with worry. Your apron and tiny name tag indicates you probably work somewhere close by, but she can’t pinpoint where. You’re too far and her vision is failing.

“Get her numbe—“

Ellie’s head whips to face Dina, “If you don’t shut up, you’re fired.” 

“Abuse of power,” She snarks in return, “C’mon! She seems so—“

“D-Do you guys have any acoustics for sale?” 

You’re a ninja, for sure. Both girls' heads snap around to face you — who stands a bit too close for Ellie’s liking — phone desperately clutched to your chest and eyes wide as a doe. Mainly locked with Ellie’s before they drop to your name tag.

Crumbl. 2 shops down. 

Fuck. 

“Why, yes!” Dina says excitedly when Ellie doesn’t reply, “Most of ours have been used, but they’re still in great condition. Are you interested in renting or purchasing?” 

“Purchasing… I think.” 

“No problem. I can show you some that we have on display, and if you don’t like those, we have some stocked in the back!” 

Ellie’s forehead creases. Dina has never been this active in making a sale, let alone interacting with any customers. Ellie is always the one who’s forced to pick up her and Riley’s slack in the shop. She catches the light traces of disappointment that overtakes your expression at Dina’s interjection, but eventually, you’re led over to the guitar displays.

Ellie sighs in relief. 

That brief exchange gave Ellie everything she needed to know. She doesn’t find gratification in denying proposals at work, but after months of being hit on by a multitude of customers — the men particularly piss her off— she’ll be as stern as she needs to be to get the point of denial across. Sure, it makes her look like a cunt to the general public, but she’ll take that over being chased after on the clock. No questions asked. 

Ellie assumes that you’ve found what you needed because on your way out, persistent stares are thrown in her direction up until your departure. She dodges them with mastery. 

She would hate to have to embarrass a strip neighbor. 

Three days later, you stumble upon the record shop once more. Dina isn’t here to save Ellie this time, and Riley’s passing time in the break room. Your uniform is lightly dusted with white, presumably flour, and your mask is down, phone clutched to your chest like it holds all your secrets.

Your mouth drops open around a small smile when you approach the service counter, but Ellie interrupts before you can greet her. 

“What can I help you with?” 

She assumed her annoyance would be guarded by professionalism, but your smile drops at its corners at her tone. A light flinch that Ellie prays is enough to deter you from spending your breaks here. 

It doesn’t. Your eyes still shine like the star that you aren’t. 

“I, um… I actually wanted to talk to you. If that’s okay—“

“Is it regarding the purchase you made a few days ago?” 

Dina slid Ellie a notice on the down payment you made for your used dreadnought since you weren’t able to pay in full. The scolding she received about “taking care of you” whenever you returned made her teeth grind together. 

“N-No. I just—“

“I’d appreciate it if we kept the conversation about that,” Ellie uses the scribbles on her notepad as a distraction, “Did you have any questions regarding the instrument? Or if you’re interested in taking part in the lessons we offer, I could redirect you to Riley. She’s in charge of—“

“I just wanted to see if you were… interested in sampling out some cookie flavors I came up with? I’m a baking and pastry student and—“

“Look,” The tip of Ellie’s tongue sharpens into her cheek, irritation evident when you two are eye-to-eye. “I’m not sure where this proposal is coming from, but frankly, I’m not interested.”

The drop in your expression doesn’t stop Ellie’s relentlessness. 

“I don’t know you, and I don’t know why you thought I’d be a good candidate for… taste-testing, but I’ll politely decline. No thanks.” 

Her declination doesn’t sound polite in the slightest; quite snippy and condescending from your perspective, and it forces your windpipe shut. Only for a second before a strangled gasp leaves your lips. You’re not sure if it’s out of shock or lack of breath, but it aches in your lungs all the same. 

Ellie’s glare sends holes through your back as you rush towards the exit, the small bell singing through the store and alarming your leave. 

All Ellie can hope is that you got the message. 

It’s a new week, and therefore, a new Crumbl cookie line-up. Dina won’t stop raving about the carrot-cake cookie which doesn’t resemble a cookie at all. It's tiered and way too soft and stacked with icing that’s sweet enough to rot teeth from the gum. 

It reminds Ellie of you, for some reason; Somehow still managing to be a nuisance without trying. 

Even more so now since Dina’s been using her 45 to walk down and see you. To talk to you. Dina has yet to cough up what about — not that Ellie cares. It’s just weird that you two suddenly have so much in common after knowing each other for all of two days maximum. Whenever Dina clocks back in, she tortures Ellie with dramatic retellings of your stories. 

It’s Thursday; a quiet day for the shop that Ellie uses to her advantage when the sun is at its peak. Searching through cheap magazines and playing Candy Crush on her phone. 

What a time for you to come barreling in. The formerly enjoyable shriek of guitar suddenly sounds like nails on a chalkboard at your appearance. No longer are you in all black. You’re in a sundress. An orange one. You look like a popsicle. 

And you bear gifts. Ellie’s mood turns even more sour when she sees two bright yellow gift bags with smiley faces on them and a tray filled with coffee stuffed in your hands. 

“Good morning!” 

You’re smiling, gleaming, and Ellie’s nose turns up. She plucks one of her earplugs out and closes her graphic novel. 

“How can I help you?” 

You set your bag down on the display case of her prized arch top, and she sighs in exasperation. Annoyance sparks when she notices one of the bags has her name on it, flowers and hearts and sparkles surrounding the tag. 

“Can you not put your belongings on the displays, please? I’d have to clean up after you since none of my employees will.” 

You’ve already moved your bags and exclaimed apologies before Ellie could finish her sentence. She’s seconds away from shoving her earplug back in to tune you out, but you’re fast. Persistent. She hates it.

“I’m really sorry about that,” You say gently, and Ellie shrugs you off, “I, um. I-I came to, uh…”

Ellie blinks rapidly, “If you’re here to apologize for last week, don’t bother. It’s not needed.” 

“Not at all! Well, I’m just… I wanted to drop by and—“

“You’ve gotten quite comfortable with just… dropping by. Have you realized that?” 

Ellie’s squint is harsh and scrutinizing, and sorrow overshadows the light in your pupils. 

“Since it’s obvious that you’re not understanding me, I’ll put it like this,” She leans a bit over the counter, front fully pressed against the glass and palms resting on the stainless steel, “I’m not interested in anything you have going on. Stop using your breaks as an excuse to come see me. I don’t wanna go out with you. And I don’t want to do a taste test. Drop it already.” 

Ellie watches your lip quiver with a harshness exclusive only for people like you, tears welting in your eyes and your fingers pinching at the hem of your sundress. Insecurity is practically seeping from your pores, and your gaze drops shamefully to the floor. 

Ellie’s just about to tell you to kick rocks when the STAFF ONLY door swings open and exposes Riley. Her break ended 20 minutes ago. 

“Hey! You’re early!” 

Ellie scoffs, “No, you’re late—“

“Not you. Be quiet,” She waves her off and smiles at you, who’s smiling back at her with guised genuity. A complete 180 from the you seconds ago. Since when were you and Riley on speaking terms? Friends?

She jogs from behind the stand, “Dina told me you weren’t coming til 3!” Riley throws her arms around your shoulders, and your hands tremble where they rest on her forearms. “Are those the goods?” 

“Yeah!” Your voice sounds heavy. Like you’re guarding a breakdown, “I-I had some time so I stopped by a little early.” 

“I got some to spare til Dee gets here. Hang out with m—“

“Actually!” You intervene shakily, “I have some other drop-offs to make. I really appreciate you guys doing this for me.” 

“Are you sure you can’t stay? Watch me get my Food Network judge on?” Riley suddenly points in Ellie’s direction, “Who knows. Sourpuss might even pop a grin once she tries one.” Ellie’s cheeks run red-hot.

“Sorry, Riley. Maybe next time,” You’re already wobbling towards the exit, “But, please call and tell me what you think! Dina, too! Any feedback is appreciated!” 

“I’m sure they’re delicious, Monster!” Riley compliments playfully, “Text me when you’re home!” 

When the door shuts, Ellie sees Riley’s back stiffen at the sight of you frantically wiping your face through the glass. 

“What the fuck did you do.” 

“I didn’t do shit. She’s loitering.” 

“Lo— Oh my fucking god, you’re an embarrassmen—“

“No, she is. Taking up space for no fucking reason to come and see me. She’s loitering—“

“You’re blowing a fuse over fucking cookie samples?” Riley stares at her like she’s nuts, “And not to burst your self-centered bubble, but I told her to come. She’s been asking all the stores on the block if they’d like to taste ‘em.”

Ellie pauses, expression softening only slightly when Riley continues, 

“I told her you don’t like chocolate, so she made a peanut butter version for you.” Riley shakes Ellie's special, slightly smaller bag as a means to taunt her, and the freckled girl’s face burns red. Glows even harsher when her friend throws in, “You cunt. She’s a sweetheart. Not everyone is fucking obsessed with you.” 

Riley leaves Ellie to simmer in her discomfort, slamming the break door shut. The day seems to drag on longer than usual. 

-

-

-

Ellie’s organizing the break room when she comes across her small baggie that Riley left behind. She would’ve expected her friend to take them home after Ellie’s dramatic blow up, but there it sat on the counter, untouched and jeering. 

Tempting enough for her to rest the broom against the counter and inspect its contents. Wafts of cinnamon and peanut butter hit her through the small opening of the bag, and her heart gives a squeeze. The cookie is iced to perfection — an entire scenery on the light brown canvas. So many flowers and trees and the blue hues of the sky; almost too much detail. It looks printed on. 

You’re artistically talented and the cookie smells divine. 

One nibble wouldn’t hurt. She’s sure the damage she caused is already irreversible. 

But when she cradles the carefully swaddled cookie, a small note falls from beneath the bunched cling wrap. She knows she shouldn’t. She should really, really leave the neatly folded piece of paper where it lays. Down the cookie. Trash the bag. 

She takes the cookie and the note back to her seat at the table. The cookie isn’t what she unravels first. 

“thought I’d make you a separate batch. Riley gave me the heads up about your chocolate disdain. I’m too paranoid to ask for your number in person, so I thought I’d use bait instead. I hope it’s convincing enough. Please let me know if it’s decent. Thank you for tasting.”

Signed with your name and a smiling heart with wings. Ellie’s heart shatters, remaining shards dangling from the rim of her ribcage. She can already see her friends glaring through her chest when they visit the apartment to berate her tomorrow morning. She already knows what they’re going to demand from her, but she’s three steps ahead. 

She ate the entire cookie in two bites right where she sat. It was delicious. Almondy, not too sweet, gently spiced. Probably the best she’s ever had.

Ellie has never been to Crumbl before. 

The viral spot is always bustling — too crowded and filled with loud teenagers with a sugar rush for her taste. Plus, she’s already on the clock when they first open. But the record shop is closed on Fridays. 

She put an extra bit of care into her appearance. She doesn’t recall the last time she did her hair. Half of it is pinned up and her button-up is neatly pressed. Jitters rustle in the pit of her stomach and her forehead is a bit damp, mainly because she can see you through the goddamn window. 

In uniform, you stand at the register with the same beaming smile from last week, talking and giggling with your coworkers, and Ellie instantly feels guilty. Your day seems off to a great start, and here she is… About to ruin it. She almost turned around at the thought. 

But the small bell above the door blares loud, and your bright smile drops once you recognize her, and with that, her stomach. Ellie mentally notes the bags forming under your eyes and the tension in your shoulders. It looks like you haven’t rested for days. Her heart squeezes. 

Your movements turn robotic; stiffly perched on the sides of the iPad stand as your thumb works on the screen. You haven’t looked Ellie’s way since. She approaches the counter with her tail between her legs, fidgeting with her middle finger. 

“Um… hey.” Ellie’s quiet. Out of place. Afraid. 

“What can I get for you?” 

Even with the stiffness, you somehow still manage to sound as soft as a cotton ball, but Ellie’s body locks. The scenario hits her like a brick wall; she’s doing exactly what she accused you of doing to her last week. Bothering her at fucking work. She should’ve never come to your place of business to coddle her ego. She feels like a hypocrite. You certainly see her as one. 

“Um… A cookie?”

“… What flavor.” 

“Uh… peanut butter?” 

You swallow thickly, voice hollow, “That’s not on the menu for this week,” You point towards the display of cookies that were big enough to feed a family, “These are the six we’re serving until Sunday. You can also look at the menu on the screen.” 

Ellie follows your pointing finger. How the fuck does this place work? Weekly flavors? What the fuck does that mean? She quickly examines the names of cookies that flash across the screen: raspberry cheesecake, pink velvet… Mom’s recipe? Odd name for a dessert but she lets it slide. 

“W-What’s your favorite?” 

You’re a baker, for fucks sake. You’d have better taste than anyone, better than her, she’d painfully admit. 

She watches your fingers clench around the screen, tapping mindlessly. 

“Um… raspberry cheesecake.” 

“I’ll get a dozen.” 

“O-Of the same flavor?” 

She shrugs like it’s obvious, “… Yup.” 

You give her one skeptic look before tapping at the screen. “It might be a little wait. About 15 minutes. Do you mind?” 

“No.” 

“Cash or card?” 

“Card, please.” 

More tapping, “That’ll be $41.65. Swipe or tap whenever you're ready.” 

A financial dent over a box of cookies was not on her bucket list. You hand her the receipt, and before you can rush to the kitchen, Ellie exclaims, “When’s your break?” 

“Excuse me?” 

“W— um, when’s your break?” 

Your coworkers are suddenly very interested in Ellie, all four of them eyeing her like venomous hawks. Her cheeks burst into flames. 

“Um… I don’t think that’s any of your concern.” 

And you’re right. Anything involving you is short on Ellie; it was never her business, but a burning in the pit of her stomach desires to learn. Needs to catch you at the right time to give you a proper apology even though she doesn’t deserve the time of day. She doesn’t know what to say. 

You use her floundering as a scapegoat and hustle behind the slamming doors. Just as Ellie rushes to leave empty-handed, one of your employees — Abigail reads across her name-tag, keeps professional, but Ellie’s skin burns with the fire in her eyes. 

“We’ll have those right out for you,” monotone, but gruff. It makes Ellie wonder if you told any of them about her — she doesn’t doubt it. 

“You can wait outside.” 

One stiff nod, and Ellie’s booking it until her feet plant on the packed sidewalk, nearly bumping into a couple with interlocked hands. It takes 25 minutes for the box of cookies to be rigidly placed on the lounge table by another employee. Ellie scurries into her truck with a boiling face and pulls out into the road. 

When she makes it to her apartment, she eats three mini cheesecakes in one sitting.

She sees why they’re your favorite. 

The following week was filled with glares and curses from Dina and Riley — your newfound friends, evidently. They have a way of making Ellie feel like a worthless dunce. They both have rubbed in the tales of you being a thrill to be around; the life of the party whenever they hang out. 

It makes her nauseous. And sad. 

But her sadness swiftly shifts to bewilderment when she catches you smoking near a lamppost after closing. Still in your uniform with a bag over your shoulder, pants dusted in white, proof of your labor. It’s dark out, the only illumination coming from the light stood tall above you and the orange gleam of your cigarette. The sight shocks her. You didn’t seem like the type. 

Maybe that’s where Ellie went wrong with you: constantly assuming… who you are. Your desires, your intentions with her, her friends. She’ll admit her wrongs, of course. 

But it has to be to you. 

Ellie scares you when she approaches, inhaling the nicotine a bit too roughly because you start heaving. Shoulders hunched and jumping with every cough. 

“Uh — fuck, I’m sorry! I-I thought you could see me coming! I didn’t mean — fuck —“

You’re still choking, but you hiss in between, “What the fuck do you want!” 

“I’m just — I’m sorry about —“

“You’re not — cough — you’re not sorry! You made your point clear. I don’t why you keep — cough cough — following me. I left you alone like you wanted!” 

“I DON’T WANT THAT!” Ellie shrieks in panic. 

It’s a heavy-handed admission. A weighted confession that was said too aggressively given your flinching away from her. She takes an instinctive step forward. 

“Your cookies… tasted fucking incredible. I’m also an asshole.” 

The drag you take from your cig while she rambles is almost comedic. Brows cinched at the middle of your forehead, gauging her. You’re not convinced, but you’re not fleeing like the first time. She takes a leap, and a large step towards you. 

“I feel really… really bad,” Ellie’s much quieter, eyes unwavering and the softest she’s ever shown you, “I shouldn’t have… said all that. To you. I’m just so used to being harassed at work. I’m sorry.” 

Maybe nicotine calms you. Your body language isn’t as taut compared to when Ellie first initiated conversation, and your eyes soften at her reasoning. 

The rasp from your timbre melts her skin like butter. “I didn’t know you went through that. That sucks.”

Ellie shrugs, “I didn’t know you were… nice.” 

She made the mistake of attempting playfulness, “Maybe ‘cuz you wouldn’t let me talk.” You snark while ashing. 

“I’m sorry.” Ellie implores. 

You take one last drag before stomping out the flame. “Me too. For bothering you.” 

Ellie cringes at your choice of words, but nods in acceptance. “Are we, uh… okay, now?”

A small smile grows on your face. It’s cute. Makes your cheeks puff out like a hungry squirrel. 

“We’re good.” You extend a fist out to her, and she connects her own at the knuckles. 

When they drop, Ellie nervously stares at her shoes, “Do you want a ride home?” 

“I’m alright, thanks.” 

“C’mon, I don’t want you waiting out here by yourself.”

You pause before asking, “What’s the catch?” Your brow arches mischievously.

Ellie doesn’t hesitate, “More of those cookies.” 

A giggle escapes you. Soft and airy like a feather. Ellie feels a tight clench in her chest. A thumping from her ribcage. Has your smile always been this vibrant? She mentally kicks herself for not noticing before. 

Ellie escorts you to the passenger's side of her passed down pick-up: opens the door for you and makes sure you’re buckled in before starting it up. She learns you’re a metalhead when she cranks the radio to the highest volume. 

… How quickly can crushes develop? 

Two months. Ellie’s spent two months finding every excuse to spend time with you. She welcomes your visits to the record shop and silently thanks the heavens above when you call after her shift to talk about your day. Listening to your rambles about customers and their weekly cookies has become the highlight of hers. 

She’s also found comfort in watching you fail at playing guitar. You’re adorable whenever you strike an incorrect chord or break a string. She’s more than willing to guide you through your trials: late-night invites to her apartment to practice. One of your goals was to learn how to play the entire Vanara soundtrack. 

Ellie assumed she simply enjoyed being in your space. She does, but something shifted between you during one specific session. It was past midnight, and Ellie could tell you were getting tired. She innocently suggested for you to spend the night so you wouldn’t have to Uber at such a late hour, and you graciously accepted her offer. When you started to get comfortable on the couch, she tuts in disapproval and invited you to share her bed because it was more comfortable. 

What a mistake. 

After showering and changing into comfortable clothes, you both crawled into bed and swiftly drifted off. When Ellie’s eyes opened the following morning, her heart immediately traveled up to sit in her throat. If anyone told her she’d wake up with you completely sprawled out on top of her with your warm breath hitting her neck and her arms wrapped around you, she wouldn’t have believed them. She was completely frozen beneath you, but not for the reason she’d assumed. 

Ellie was scared to wake you up. Ellie was scared you would move away from her. 

She was pulled between waking you up and pulling you even closer. You were soft and warm and you smelled like her cinnamon body wash. A literal human cookie. She caressed your back as delicately as she could, and you nuzzled into her shoulder with every swipe. She hoped the harsh thrashes from her heart wouldn’t disturb you. 

They didn’t. 

You took a piece of Ellie when you left her apartment that morning. She’s not sure which part you stole, but she hasn’t felt the same since then. A pull towards you that’s electric, sparks her to life, keeps her up at night. Whenever you’re away, at work, not next to her, she’s desperate to pull you close. To breathe in the natural scent of you. 

Evidently, crushes develop rather quickly. 

“I thought baking was supposed to be fun.” Ellie huffs from where she lays on her bed. 

“It is fun! My favorite past-time, actually,” She watches you pace around her bedroom, guitar still strapped securely around your shoulder, “It’s just stressful when you have chefs constantly breathing down your neck. It’s so hard to be creative because they nitpick everything.” 

Creating a menu is much harder than Ellie assumed. She’s become the person you’ve come to whenever you’re fired up from classes, ranting and raving about the apparent dickheads that judge your creations. After testing your recipes for as long as she has, how could anyone turn down a dessert from you? 

You’re such a hard-worker. Focused, determined… pretty when you’re brainstorming. Pretty when you’re talking… Pretty when you’re smiling. Standing. Staring off into the distance. 

“Hm.” 

It’s all Ellie can say. She’s been trying to mask her rampant stares at your bare thighs for the past… however the fuck long. They look so soft. So pliable. So easy to stretch and pry and yank at— 

Her guilty pleasure went from collecting Pokémon cards to gawking at your legs whenever you wear shorts. 

Ellie’s definitely crushing. 

Crushing very, very hard. 

[sanatomis]

⋆౨ৎ˚ ──── 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐔𝐒𝐄.

it's been on your mind for a while now. and, even though he's a little confused at first, it takes satoru very little time to warm up to your enticing offer.

დ content. fr3e use kink, cursing, female!reader, fingering, vaginal sex, creampie, consensual somnophilia, deepthroating, cum-swallowing, mentions of satoru eating it from the back <3

დ notes. second attempt at posting this on tumblr, don't mind me. it's crossposted on ao3 bc my previous attempts at posting all failed miserably (it never showed in the tags ://)

Satoru is confused. It doesn’t take you much time to notice that your softly spoken words have him quite rattled, as the results of them can so clearly be observed on his face. There’s his nose that scrunches up cutely, and a little tilt of his head to the left which comes accompanied by a few snowy strands of hair shifting across his forehead. A small furrow of his brows, the soft gnawing on his bottom lip. He’s thinking about it; mulling over your offer. 

Three times, he tries to say something. His mouth opens once, twice, and it’s futile. Not a word escapes, and he takes a sharp intake of breath. You almost believe that, if you weren’t currently seated opposite him, he’d smack the side of his head a few times to make sure it’s still screwed on right. 

“So, I just. . .” The third time really is the charm, it seems. Though, he never quite manages to finish what he was going to say. 

“Just put it in, yeah.” 

You finish it for him, you’re sweet like that. It does really seem as if he could use the help.

“Wh—whenever I. . .” 

There’s a little voice in your head, chiming and chattering about how all of this is weird. It makes you nervous, and your fingers itch to play with your necklace to fight it. 

“Whenever you want,” you confirm. It’s as if your heart has suddenly moved to your throat. 

“Wha—what if you’re asleep?”

“I said whenever you want, didn’t I?” 

He almost lets out a little squeak at the words you so casually give him. They surprise him, as they do you. Your last sentence wasn’t one spoken by your mind, and you shift in your seat as if it’d shush the part of you that did. 

It’s as if you’re telling him what you’d eaten for breakfast this morning, not giving him permission to slip, bully and sheat his cock into your needy cunt at any given time of the day. Without needing to ask, too. Satoru can fill you up, stuff you full, and dump so much of his cum into you until you’re overflowing, and he can do it whenever he feels the need to—because he’s Satoru, and you love your Satoru.

“Are you sure?” He asks, a hint of apprehension laces his voice. Your heart almost swells at his concern, at his hesitancy and need to confirm your wishes; even if you’ve vocalised them so bluntly. “Maybe, think about it for a little long—” 

“I have,” you interrupt him. As gentlemanly as he’s being, there’s no mistaking the darkening of his eyes. The pretty, baby-blues making way for something sinister. You suddenly don’t feel so nervous anymore. “I have thought about it. Way too much, and for way too long.” 

A string of curse words tumble past his lips. They’re hushed, and quick, and from the way he, too, shifts in his seat you gather that he’s hard. Painfully so, if the bulge forming in his pants is anything to go by. Your relationship has existed long enough for you to know that drops of his pre-cum are staining the fabric of his boxers already—always so messy, your Satoru. The mere thought has you wanting to take him out, to put him in your mouth and lap at the sticky, white beads falling down his length. 

“Please,” you plead softly, and watch how he stifles a groan at the needy, saccharine sound of it. You want more, more of that sound. Right next to your ear, preferably. “Use me, Satoru.” 

There’s little you want more than that, little that arouses you more than that. The thought of Satoru taking you whenever he wishes, abiding by his whims and allowing him free-reign over your body—it instils a heat into your stomach, into your core. It makes you feel filthy, like a cheap whore picked up from the street; but you’d be his whore, and suddenly it all starts to feel like a dream. It’s Satoru. Satoru, Satoru, Satoru. He’ll be gentle, and he’ll be kind, and he’ll stop as soon as you utter your safeword, and he’ll love you so much, even if he fucks you as if he doesn’t. 

You have half a mind to ask him again, to plead, to beg for it again, as it almost feels as if he didn’t quite hear you. But, as soon as you open your mouth to do so, he immediately latches his lips onto yours. It’s messy, and sloppy, and entirely fueled by the frantic state his mind is currently in—but you don’t complain, and never will. 

His hands are everywhere and nowhere all at the same time, and you feel him almost buzzing with excitement. Your teeth clash against one another at the force of the kiss, your tongues greedily seek the other out, and saliva gets swapped from your mouth to his, and vice versa. It’s dirty, and sticky, and almost brings you back to your high-school years, when he’d been all clumsy hands and feigned confidence on the night you’d lost your virginity to each other. 

Satoru pulls back from your kiss first, and a small smile falls over his lips when he notices you chasing him. “Wait a minute, sweets,” he murmurs, forehead against yours. His breathing is heavy, as is yours, and you don’t want to wait a minute—you want him, now, tomorrow, and each day after that. “Are you. . .” He chuckles when you kiss him again, and again, and again. You only stop when he holds your head in place. “Are you completely sure about this?” 

You blink up at him, eyes wide and lips swollen. “Mhm,” you hum, and caress his cheekbone with one of your thumbs. Satoru melts in your hold, as he always seems to do. “‘S you, ‘Toru. I’m completely sure when it’s you.” 

He lets out a shaky breath. There’s a storm of emotion behind his eyes, but all of them point to the same conclusion—he loves you. So much, you might even get sick of it one day; he’d told you as a joke, one born out of fear. But you won’t. You never will. And you think he’s starting to realise it, finally. 

“Okay,” he whispers, and kisses your forehead. 

It’s delicate, and loving, and so opposite from the way he buries himself into you over, and over, and over again a mere five minutes after that. Satoru’s needy, and impatient, and so pent-up from your previous conversation that foreplay gets thrown out of the window. 

He bends you over the couch first, that cute little ass of yours jiggling right in front of his face as he mounts you from behind. He slips in easily, with a pussy as wet as yours, and a cock as leaky and hard as his—the lack of foreplay almost goes unnoticed. Almost, of course, as the sheer size of him never fails to elicit a hint of a burn as he stretches you out. Nevermind that you take his cock daily, or that your walls are bound to carry his shape after the many years you spend with him. 

The sounds that decorate your apartment are filthy, lewd, and borderline obscene, but you’re thoroughly obsessed with them. The slapping of his balls against your ass, the squelching with each passing thrust, the deep groans and choked whimpers Satoru releases next to your ear just like you wanted. Even your own moans, your own babbles, and your own whines add to the experience; the combination of sounds. And you love it, because it’s you, and it’s Satoru—and it’s the two of you together. 

It doesn’t end after Satoru cums, nor does it after you do. The agreement between the two of you that was made tonight seems to have done a number on him, and he takes you a second time. On the balcony, where he puts you on display for the world to see as he fills you over and over again. And a third time, in your shared bed that’s never been safe from his affection and blatant desire towards you. And a fourth time, in the shower that was initially meant to clean you up, he decides to dirty you even further. 

If this is the reaction he gives to the mere idea of using you whenever he pleases, you long for the time that he actually does.

It’s well past midnight when Satoru finally decides he’s done with you. You’re curled into his side, a shirt that’s way too large for you (but one that you swore you didn’t steal from him) covers your figure. You’re asleep. Tired, exhausted, and completely knocked out. He smiles. You’re so cute. A love-sick expression is stuck to his face, and it may very well become permanent if he stays looking at you. 

One of his fingers reaches in-between your thighs, gently scooping up the remnants of his release. Satoru almost coos at the way your nose scrunches up cutely when he starts to finger it back into your pussy. It allows his digits to slip easily through your folds, and she sucks them in as soon as he reaches your hole. His cum doesn’t leak out this time. Not yet, anyway, but even if it does, he’s more than willing to repeat the process. 

He sighs. Mind full of thoughts, but at least his balls are empty now. There’s a little huff escaping his lips, and he’s amused at his own comment. Satoru shakes his head, but the small smile remains nonetheless. Strong, yet gentle arms pull your body tighter against him. 

You’re delicate, and sweet, and so precious to him; and he will do his best to take care of you. Use me, use me, use me. He kisses your forehead, his own eyes falling shut. 

He will most certainly try to. 

The very first time Satoru entertains the idea of indulging in your offer, is on a day where you’ve decided to wear his favourite lipgloss. It’s so shiny, such a cute shade, and makes you look so beautiful, but above all—it’s sticky. It’s sticky, and easily smudged, and he knows from experience that everything feels so much filthier when he steals a kiss from you with it on. 

Without meaning to, thoughts of you wrapping those glossed lips around his dick, creating a mess made-up of spit, cum, tears, and thus that delightful stickiness from your lipgloss, enters his mind. The coloured shade will leave a perfect ring around his length, there’s no doubt in his mind. Your pretty face will be all dirty, smudged stains near the corners of your mouth courtesy of his fat cock. You will be a sight for sore eyes. 

You’re talking to him, but Satoru can’t seem to listen. He’s enamoured by your lips, your soft-looking, plumb, and very glossed lips. He briefly feels pathetic, knowing that a mere make-up item has the ability to make his head spin to such a degree—but he doesn’t, as he quickly realises it only does so because it’s you that’s wearing it. 

Fuck, he really wants to stuff his cock into your mouth. 

Five, six, almost seven seconds pass before the realisation kicks in. If he wants to put his cock in your mouth, then he can. Satoru’s body moves on its own before he gets a chance to think about his actions, as is often the case with him, and it's not long before his large hand finds its new home on the back of your head. He falters briefly, watching how you quiet down, how your eyes widen slightly, but continues as he’s doing when you make absolutely no move to stop him when he gently guides your head down, and down, and down—until you’re right where he wants you. 

A small gasp leaves your lips when he puts you on eye-level with his crotch. It’s quiet, and he almost didn’t hear it, but it makes him pause nonetheless. The hand on your head loosens its grip, and he hesitates as he looks down at you. 

“Is this oka—” 

The sentence never gets finished, forever interrupted by a sharp hiss as you take his cock out of his pants with such unabashed eagerness. It slaps against his abdomen, leaky tip staining the fabric of his shirt. Your previous conversation is all but forgotten, it seems, as you don’t waste a second in taking his hard, aching length almost entirely into your mouth. It all happens so quickly, and Satoru’s mind almost can’t keep up. All he did was think about filling your mouth, and now he’s actually doing it; the fat tip prodding near the back of your throat. 

His hands are shaky, he notices, and so is his breathing as a small whine escapes when one of your hands goes downwards to play with his balls. “Fuck!” he curses, caught by surprise at the boldness with which you reached for that part of him. In his startle, his hands return to the back of your head, and your words make their impromptu return to the very front of his mind. 

Use me. 

He will, then. 

Satoru isn’t at all gentle when he does. His fingers tangle into your hair, and he pushes you down onto his cock until your nose brushes against the soft, white hairs near his pelvis. Your poor little mouth is struggling, he can see, but he can’t seem to pay much mind to it; the sounds of you gagging around his thick length are too much of a pleasure to hear. The way he pushes you up-and-down nears the realm of brute force, and still you eagerly suck, and suck, and suck. 

A particularly loud groan echoes through the room when he steals a glance at your small form kneeling between his legs. It seems he knows you well; you are a sight for sore eyes like this. There are tears in your eyes, and some of them have already fallen down your hollowed cheeks; hollowed, to make space for him. Your mouth is filled to the brim with his cock, and even though he can see you fighting for breath, you never make an attempt at catching it—as if you wouldn’t dare to deprive him of the please your throat gives him. 

Satoru catches himself falling in love all over again. 

He fucks your face harder, and harder, and harder the closer he gets to the edge. Deep groans, and slurred curse words join your symphony of muffled moans, and his hold on your head slowly starts to falter. 

“‘M close, princess,” he mumbles, but that’s about all the warning he gives you. A few seconds later, he cums down your throat. He doesn’t ask, he doesn’t need to. Not because you’d given him permission to use you as he sees fit, but simply because he knows you’re utterly obsessed with him doing so. “Fuck, f—fuck, look a’you, hm? Gonna take all of it like a good girl? Don’t waste it, m’kay? S’all for, fuck, for you.” 

It’s something he’s done countless times before, but Satoru swears that each time he spills his cum down your throat feels better than the last. Thick, sticky ropes fill your mouth, and you hum around him when it keeps going, and going, and going. You’re struggling to take it all, and he huffs in amusement when bits of it start to drip down your chin. His thumb catches it, and he quickly places it back in your mouth, forcing you to open it wider to accommodate both the digit and his slowly softening cock. You happily do so. 

He pulls out of you shortly after, with his chest heaving as he recuperates. His entire focus is on you, you, and you as he watches you wipe your mouth and swallow the last of his seed. There’s a smile on your face. It’s kind, and gentle, and innocent; almost as if he hadn’t just fucked your mouth and dumped his release down your throat. Satoru is utterly bewitched as he watches you, captivated by all and every little thing you do, and he cooperates as you tuck him back into his pants. 

And then, as if nothing at all happened, you sit down next to him again—and you speak, you continue talking, finishing the story he’d interrupted with his need to be sucked off. Your voice is hoarse, and your cheeks are still stained with dried tears, but you pay neither of those facts any mind. It makes all of this look so. . . mundane. You were speaking, and then you were between his legs, and now you’re speaking again. 

Satoru’s heart starts to beat even faster for you. Fuck, that’s so hot. This time, he decides to try his very best to listen to your tale about some co-worker of yours that pissed you off this week. He pitches in every-now-and-then, adding a low ‘huh,’ or ‘mhm’ to keep you occupied, and he almost feels guilty—guilty, because all his adrenaline-filled mind can think about are the future possibilities of using you.

“And, wanna know what’s the worst thing about the situation? It was my idea to get donuts for everybody! That harlot didn’t even want them initially.” 

Satoru’s downward spiral is inevitable, and he finds himself falling victim to it more times than one would consider healthy in a mere seven days. He very quickly learns that he’s thoroughly obsessed with the notion that allows him to fill you up anywhere, and at any time. To him, it’s one of the highest honours. 

There’s such confidence, such unwavering faith encompassed in your view of him. There has to be, if you’re willing to allow him such a thing. Thinking about it almost causes a cute pink hue to colour his cheek. . .you really do trust him a lot, huh?

He’s never been able to tell you ‘no’ before, and he certainly isn’t about to start. So, he dutifully listens to you and abides by your delectable request. To satisfy you, of course. There’s absolutely no other reason for his actions, and the way he breaches your dripping cunt with his leaky tip, all while soft breaths leave your lips, and your pretty eyes are peacefully shut, is simply to indulge you. 

Use me. Use me. Use me. 

Satoru curses, the crude words that tumble past his lips being plenty colourful. One of his hands settles on your hip whilst the other hikes your (or rather his) shirt up to provide him with better access. It’s your fault, really, that he’s currently sporting one of the hardest boners of the century. You were waiting for him, weren’t you? Waiting for him to return and bury himself to the hilt in that sweet, sobbing pussy of yours. 

There’s no other reason for you to fall asleep with nothing but his shirt on. Not even panties covered your cute little cunt, your sticky folds fully on display and welcoming him home. Satoru wants to bury himself in it—in a multitude of ways if he’s being truly honest with himself. For now, though, he’ll stick to simply one. 

“Shh,” he coos into your ear, delicately rubbing soft circles into your upper thigh with his thumb. You whine faintly, feeling his cock fight its way past your walls. He splits you open, stretching you just wide enough to slip inside. Your nose scrunches up cutely, and he almost rouses you from your slumber.  “‘S me, really need you, baby.” 

And that’s all he has to say. It’s me. It’s your Satoru. A gentle whisper of those words, and he gets to use you as he pleases. All of his previous worries, all of the near-boiling anger he felt at his previous meeting with the higher-ups washes away as soon as he sinks himself balls-deep into your pussy. Satoru groans deeply at the feeling, and gentle, stuttered declarations of love are babbled into your ear with each slow drag of his cock along your walls. 

The garbled mesh of words that he deems too important not to say, even despite their poor enunciation, only ceases to exist a few minutes later—when he spills his heavy load into that sweet, sweet cunt of yours. No, into that sweet cunt of his. Because, that’s who it truly belongs to, no? It’s his, to use, to spoil, to worship. You’d offered it to him so kindly, after all. And, well, Satoru has never been the type of person to turn down a gift. 

. . . You unknowingly create a monster. It seems that even the mere idea of being allowed to use you as he pleases has him tip-toeing around the line of borderline insanity. As each time he sees you, he wants you. . .and each time he wants you, you let him. 

It doesn’t matter what you’re doing at that moment. Even if you’re speaking, and he suddenly feels the need, no, the simple want for a blowjob. And even if you’re asleep, resting after what must have been a long day, you still allow him to slip his aching cock into you to satisfy the craving he’s had for hours. 

Even if you’re busy setting the table, you don’t push him away, and you still allow him to bend you over the wooden surface, to sink to his knees and lick, suck, and kiss around his pretty pussy with his tongue. Simply because he wants to do it, and you really do so, too. 

. . .And even now, when you’re cooking dinner. 

There’s a certain cuteness about the way your brows scrunch in concentration, about the way you gently bite on your bottom lip as you prepare the food for the two of you; it nearly makes him feel guilty for feeling the secret desire to ruin such a lovely, innocent view. The word nearly is important, however, as he’s acutely aware of your need for him to do exactly that—and so, any sense of wrongdoing melts away, similar to snow underneath the sun.

He’s not quite sure what it is that you’re cooking, but it smells delectable. There’s an array of spices, herbs, and vegetables strewn around the counter, and Satoru knows he’ll be eating like a King in a few minutes. As for right now, though, there’s a different craving, a different type of hunger slowly making its way forward. He fears it won’t be one that’ll be sated by your lovely culinary skills. 

“Smells good, baby,” he mumbles. It doesn’t take him long to settle himself behind you, large hands gently coming to rest on your hips. He sighs in the crook of your neck, and nudges the skin with his nose. “What’cha making?” 

You answer. He knows you do, as he feels the vibrations of your voice underneath his lips, the soft hum feeling quite soothing as he kisses along the column of your throat, but Satoru can’t find it in himself to focus on the words you give him. His ever-loose hands roam eagerly down your body, and the previous loving, and delicate kisses along your neck turn sloppy, wet, almost, as Satoru dips one of his hands underneath the waistband of your panties. There’s a grin forming on his lips, one entirely too big and full of confidence. 

“‘M startin’ to think you’re just always wet for me, pretty girl,” he mumbles against the shell of your ear, fingers entirely coated in your slick the second he’d sunk them into your dripping cunt. 

Your cheeks heat up, and you try to stifle a moan when he, so very, very slowly starts to move his fingers in-and-out of you. “I—I am,” you admit, and clench around his digits just as he’s about to take them out; as if it’s a last resort to keep them inside. “F’you, Satoru. Just for you.” 

“Hm?” He hums, and almost huffs in amusement as he sees you trying to continue what you were doing so desperately, as if you weren’t being fucked on your husband’s fingers. Just for that—he rapidly thrusts his fingers back into you, harsher, deeper, and so much quicker. “Just for me, yeah, princess?” 

“Y—Ah! Yes, yes,” you squeak, one of your hands seeking out some semblance of support from the kitchen counter.  “Only for you.” 

There’s an embarrassing sound hitting your ears, as each thrust of his absurdly long fingers is accompanied by your wetness squelching around them. You struggle to speak, to breathe almost, as he fucks you on his fingers. Satoru stretches you out, curling his fingers to find the spot he knows will leave you with those pretty tears falling down your cheeks, and to hit it over, and over, and over again. 

There’s such a heat gathered between your legs, such a pleasurable source of warmth, and Satoru suppresses a groan as he’s once again made very aware of that fact when your walls clench around his digits. His cock twitches, and he lets out a shaky sigh as he grinds it against your ass. “You are, aren’t you? Hm? C’mon, baby, don’t be shy. . .be a little louder.”

You aren’t shy. You haven’t been for a while now. There’s a certain hotness in the way you moan so unabashedly, so utterly shamelessly whenever Satoru gets his hands on you in such a way—it’s as if you can’t ever get enough of him. It never fails to harden his cock even more, to make his balls feel achingly heavy until he ultimately empties them inside your tight little cunt. And you know so, which is exactly why you do it. 

“‘M not,” you rasp out, one of your hands coming to rest on his wrist. The back of your head falls against his shoulder as you choke on a moan, seeking some very necessary aid to stay upright. “Please, I. . .’Toru, please.”

In all honesty, Satoru isn’t quite sure what you’re begging for. He knows it’s one of two options: either to cum on his fingers, or for him to push his thick cock inside your pussy already. There’s no desire to ask, however—he’d much rather make that decision himself. The hand that wasn’t currently burying three of its digits knuckle-deep into your pussy busies itself with his belt-buckle. 

There’s a pitiful whine falling from your lips, one that’s released immediately upon the removal of his fingers from your cunt. “Shh,” he coos in your ear, instantly soothing your upcoming tantrum. You stifle the complaint you’d prepared for him, the feeling of his fat tip prodding near your too-eager hole quickly puts an end to it. “S’okay, pretty girl, just wanna feel you cum around my cock, s’all. . .Think you can do that for me?” 

You nod, and rapidly so. “Mhm,” you hum, and open your mouth when he presents it with his soiled fingers. You clean them, suckling around them until each bit of your sweetness is gone. “Want to—really wanna cum around your cock, ‘Toru.”

“Of course, you do,” he breathes, and captures a quick kiss. And another. And another. And one more. It makes you smile, and that, in turn, makes him smile. When he does pull back, there’s as much love as there is lust dancing in his eyes. “Wouldn’t have expected anything less of you, princess.”

Satoru is often greedy. There’s no such thing as savouring something with him—if he’s enjoying himself, he’ll be as gluttonous as he wishes. The exception is you, of course, as you always are to him. There’s no greater feeling than savouring you. It’s why he, more often than not, decides to fill you up slowly. To let his cock drag along your walls, to let your soothing warmth engulf him inch, by inch, by inch, until his firm balls press up against your ass. He does so this time, too. 

Your long, drawn-out moan as he fills you up slowly sounds as if it were gifted to him by the Heavens, and Satoru’s cock twitches inside when he hears you mutter a soft fuck as you struggle to adjust to him. It’s certainly not the first time you’ve taken his cock, but the sheer girth of him still stretches you out—as it always does. Your husband loves you dearly, however, and waits. . .one second, two seconds, three seconds, and he doesn’t get any further before his self-restraint falters. 

Satoru nearly pulls himself out of your cunt completely, only for him to fuck himself back inside so deeply—it has you place both palms of your hands on the counter to steady yourself. It startles you, as he hears you choke on a moan, but he continues. His movements are quick and rough, animalistic even, as he pounds into your cunt. 

“Sa—ngh, Satoru, wait, I. . .” You interrupt yourself with a moan, the feeling of his tip near your cervix too sharp for you to properly finish a sentence. He’s so deep. It feels as if he’s in your womb, in your stomach—it feels as if he’s everywhere. “Fuck, I. . .f—fuck, ‘Toru. . .”

 “Hm?” He breathes out, a groan slipping past his lips. “Want me to, fuck, you. . .” His rapid movements dial down. The self-control needed for it is enormous, but you’d asked him to wait—so he will. Some beads of pre-cum drip into your cunt, as if his cock was upset that he’d suddenly slowed down. “Wan’me to go slower, baby?”

“No,” There’s a small whine near the end of your sentence. It’s the absolute last thing you wanted him to do, even if you originally asked him to wait. “No, don’t, please, keep going. Need—need more.” You feel Satoru wrap both hands around your hips, as if he’s preparing for something. “Harder, please. . .”

“Harder?” He asks, and you don’t need to see him to know there’s currently a sense of smugness ruining his pretty face.  “How hard do you want it, huh, sweets?” 

Little more than the tip remains inside you, and there’s not a moment for you to mourn the loss of his entire girth—as all air leaves your lungs when he immediately thrusts back into you with a newfound vigour, with such force that it has you bend over the kitchen counter. 

“Like, ah, like this, huh? That how you want it, angel?”

You don’t answer—you’re not able to, as Satoru uses the entirety of his thick length to steal your ability to speak coherently. Once again, you’re acutely aware of the sheer size of your husband. Satoru is tall, and big, and he likely isn’t even aware of it. It certainly doesn’t seem so, as he heads no mind to the way your feet are starting to lift off the floor. Each deep thrust has you inching further up the counter; his hands on your hips nearly holding you up and off the floor as he rocks into you from behind. 

There’s little you can do, except take it. 

The kitchen is filled with sounds that definitely do not belong there. Your wetness is prominent, the sound of it borderline embarrassing, and Satoru’s balls slap against your skin with each thrust. He’s relentless, and you want to cry. The good kind of crying; the kind that often comes accompanied with mind-numbing pleasure. You hiccup, and sniff, and try your best to stabilise yourself against the counter. 

Though, your efforts prove futile once Satoru brings one of his hands to your front. You choke on a whimper as he cruelly pinches your clit, toying with it, flicking and rubbing it in the way he knows will get you off. 

“T—Toru,” you warn him. “I—I’m. . .”

“Mhm,” he hums in acknowledgement, not letting up even for a second. There’s a featherlight kiss pressed to your shoulder. “Me too, princess. S’okay, let, shit, let go for me, yeah?”

And because he’s Satoru—your Satoru, you comply. It hits you all at once, and you’re suddenly very grateful for both your husband holding you upright, and your expensive kitchen counter for adding some extra support. You’re still breathing heavily, coming down from your high, when Satoru hits his own. It’s a familiar feeling, but one you’ll never grow tired of nonetheless. 

You sigh in content. His cum fills you up rapidly, and to the brim. It’s hot, and thick, and trickles out of you even with him still inside—simply because there’s so much of it. The both of you are out of breath, and because of it, choose to stay within each other’s hold for just a little while longer. 

Satoru could—and would—stay in this position for the rest of his life. . .but he’s quite sure that you’ve put a lot of effort in today’s dinner and he doesn’t want it to be for naught. With a deep sigh and a quick kiss to your cheek, he goes against every fibre of his being, and pulls out of you. 

A shiver trails down your spine when he does so, and you let out a soft sigh in content. You’re still recovering, he notices. There’s a trail of his cum dripping out of you, though he wastes little time to push it back inside. Satoru takes matters into his own hands, and decides to place your panties back into place for you, too. It gets soiled by his seed rather quickly, but that’s a problem for later. 

After smoothing down your skirt, he tucks himself back into his pants, as well. He’s by your side as quick as he can, and presses a sweet, lingering kiss to your temple. 

It’s only then that he properly takes notice of all the stuff that’s been thrown around the kitchen. Pots, pans, vegetables, spices. It seems you really were busy.

And, as if he hadn’t just finished fucking you silly, he smiles. 

“So, what are you making?”

© MADE BY SANATOMIS — please, refrain from stealing, copying, or reposting any of my works.

[rqnarok]

old man!logan obsessing over his pregnant wifey

headcanons - cws/tags: smut! mdni. breeding kink. lactation kink. pregnant sex. dom/sub dynamics.

a/n: okie a lot of u asked for a part two of this blurb, here ya’ go my loves! <3

Logan Howlett used to think he wouldn’t be a good father. Hell, with that temper and attitude? He was sure he’d be the worst one. 

But you don’t seem to agree with him on many things—especially his self-destructive thoughts. I mean, that’s why you let him knock you up in the first place. You’d grin seeing your belly round and full of his babe, tits plump and leaking.

You are too beautiful to behold, “My pretty fuckin’ wife.” A sight that has Logan’s libido reaching its peak, the ones he thought he was not capable of anymore as an old man. 

Yet here he is, dick hard and balls full each time he sees you. 

Shit. You look so soft, walking around the house barefoot and swollen with his offspring. A sick and possessive side of him loves knowing that when you are out in public, it’s apparent that you’re taken by him, carrying his child. 

Pregnancy grants you a restless glow that makes it harder for him to say no to you. “W-wan’ you, please, Lo—” When you beg him to stuff you up full, who is he to deny his wife? Deny the mother of his child? 

He turns into a madman at how your leaking tits bounce up and down when you ride his girth, at how your breasts seem to look when you wear those tight tops, at how your nipples are poking all the damn time, and at how you are hornier than ever.

Yeah, he caught you hiding under the sheets rubbing your swollen clit and fingers deep in your own dripping cunt with his name rolling off your tongue — thinking he’s still doing his late night shift. 

He fucks you as much as he can, the positions getting more and more adapted as your stomach grows, sometimes filthier than ever, “Put your legs up here, baby. Can’t have ya’ sore now, can we?”

His favorite position is still you on your back, thighs spread apart, and belly full on display. “Ya’ got me so fuckin’ hard, pretty.” He doesn’t give a damn that his aging body feels aching—he could watch this for hours. Your face contorted with pleasure as his fat cock thrusts in and out. 

Oh, Logan’s nasty. He says he tries to ‘relieve’ your pain by sucking at your sensitive, leaking nipples while plunging his cock inside of you. “Mhm, such a sweet wife for your old man.” Pumping your full womb while he laps at your milk. 

The almost 200-year-old man believes he has gained stamina—now that he has more responsibility. He’s always ready to load you up for days on end. And that’s exactly what he’ll do for the next few weeks. Molding his cock inside you before sex starts to get all too much for his pregnant wifey. 

Logan’s a natural caretaker. It shows when you’re hitting the post-orgasm soreness and barely do anything except breathe heavily. He never forgets to show his affection, scratching his scruffy grey beard on your neck before softly kneading sensitive parts of your body. 

“Let’s get ya’ cleaned up, mama.”

A bad father? Logan Howlett buried all of his dictionaries and named you his language. 

[pretty-little-mind33]

Pietro Maximoff x fem!reader

KINKTOBER 2024

summary: You try and get Pietro to sit still.

warnings: switch!Pietro, kinda dom!reader, cockwarming, penetration, unprotected sex, swearing

Since Pietro had gotten his super-speed, he would quickly become impatient. He liked when things happened fast because he would often lose focus if things weren't moving quickly. Sex usually wasn't any different than that and in all honesty you didn't mind. Pietro always made sure it was enjoyable for you. He was good like that and so sex was good and quick, well except for tonight, when you'd wanted to try something different. 

You're both sitting on the couch, well he is on the couch and you're sitting on top of him. Your dress is bunched up against your thighs and you're stroking his face, scratching his stubble and pressing kisses on his face. 

Pietro hums, desperately wanting to move his hips. He can feel you above him, his cock stretching out your—already soaking–cunt as you stay incredibly still. "Miláček (darling)," he whispers, hanging on to the very last thread of dominance he has. His hands shake around your hips. He wants to move and fuck you so badly. "Please."

You shake your head and kiss his lips, moving to suck on his neck. "No. Just a little longer."

"It's been almost ten minutes, lásko (love)," he whines and you glance at the clock. 

"It's barely been five minutes, baby," you laugh and move a little, to tease him.

Pietro's hands tighten around your hips, hissing as he moves his own hips. "Sakra, lásko, tady mě zabíjíš (Shit, love, you're killing me here)." You love it when he speaks Sokovian even when you don't understand him. He must be whining though, you know him well enough to deduce that. 

"Shh," you whisper as you capture his lips in yours, "just a little more. For me. I'm always good for you, aren't I?" you say once you've disconnected your lips. 

Pietro clenches his jaw but he nods and kisses you again so he can distract himself. He shuts his eyes, his body almost vibrating from the need to shift, move, run—do anything to fuck like he likes to. 

After another few minutes, you rock your hips slowly as a teasing smile tugs on his lips. 

"Shit, Miláček (darling), please. You're being unfair."

You lean in and kiss behind his ear and down his neck, running your hands in his silver locks. You keep rocking, each time becoming quicker as you decide to let him have his way. Pietro moans, becoming impatient now as his self-control breaks and he stands.

He picks you up, his dick slipping out of you for a moment until he spins around and lays you both on the couch. Your hands find his back as you arch into him, his cock sliding back into you as he thrusts faster and hardest. 

You cry out from the intense pleasure mixed with pain and he slows a little, kissing all over your face. "You like it slower, lásko (love). Is that what you want? Didn't have to torture me—you could have just said something," he whispers hoarsely in your ear. 

He's going slow now and you smile, enjoying the sensation. You nod. 

"Naughty girl," Pietro whispers, capturing your lips as he punctuates his thrusts. He's taking his time now, making sure you feel every push and the way you fall apart is so sweet that he decides that slow and steady does win the race after all. 

tags: @kravensgirl, @brokeaesthetic, @sayitlikethecheese, @lqrlei, @princesssunderworld, @thewinterv, @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader, @simplyreflected, @aunicornmademedoit, @girl-detective16

[smutoperator]

Call Me Jen

Huh Yunjin x Male Reader

Tags: A2M, anal creampie, anal whore, big dick worship, butt plug, cheating, dirty talk, escort, finger-fucking, fisting, gape, hotel room, pornstar experience, riding, squirting, sugar daddy, uncut cock

Word Count: 4992

Yunjin wasn't feeling well today. Her boyfriend had cheated on her. All that while she was in the middle of the latest Le Sserafim comeback performances. She needed someone to help her with her frustrations.

You, on the other hand, were just chilling until you received a text message.

"Can we have sex tonight?" Yunjin asked. "Aren't you dating?" you replied back. "Well, yeah, but my boyfriend is a cheating asshole," she replied. "You know what? The best way to forget a cheating asshole is to get fucked in the asshole," you replied. "Then, let's find a quiet place so you can fuck me in the asshole," she said.

You gave Yunjin the address of your favorite 5-star hotel. "Arrive by yourself; tell the front desk you'll be my companion. And don't forget to bring a fake ID not to raise suspicions from those media vultures," you told her. "I'll be there later at night," you said. 

"I need better assurances than just words after that asshole broke my heart," Yunjin said. "I'll give you the best assurance, money; if you want to have sex with me so bad, I'm gonna reward you like the high-end hooker that you are," you tell her as you give her a proof of deposit in her bank account. "Sure," she said.

Yunjin arrives at the empty room, playing with herself in a one-piece dress. She is feeling a little tired due to the recent comeback performances, but the spatious bed is perfect for her to get some rest and touch herself with no one bothering her. She plays with her tits, fingers her pussy, and last but not least, gapes her ass, preparing herself for a special night.

It's nearly 11 PM, and you have yet to arrive. Yunjin still waits. Either way, she's already got the money. She messages you showing her outfit for tonight, a pink lingerie with a shiny butt plug decorated with pink sapphires shoved in her asshole just to the side of her thong strip. "I'll be there in a couple minutes," you say.

You arrive at the room, finding Yunjin already in a primed position, her body bent over into her bed as you see her exposed fat ass before you even get to see her face. "Nice plug you got in there," you tell her.

"What is inside of it is even nicer," Yunjin says, teasing you the gape move she did during that Unforgiven choreography, placing her long nails right in her buttcheeks. Rumor has it she's got the best gape in the whole industry, so you wanted to test it. She keeps teasing you, finally showing her face as she bites her fingers, before bouncing her ass up in the air a few times, the feeling in the air akin to one of those raw porn scenes filmed in a very dark room.

Yunjin puts her ass further up as she puts her face in the bed, teasing you about her pussy, which you assume is as pink as the fabric she's wearing to cover it. She quickly answers that question to you, pulling her panties to the side and showing off her pussy.

"Ready for a pornstar experience, baby?" Yunjin asks. Using just her middle and index fingers, she puts them between the butt plug's notch, teasing you as she pushes it in and out of her asshole until she takes it completely off, only to push it back in again shortly after. She closes her eyes and winks her still small gape at you, giving you a smile when you come close to her face and then proceeding to lick the plug.

"My asshole is hella tasty," Yunjin says to you. "It'll be even tastier with my cock inside it," you say to her. "I can only hope," she replies.

Yunjin keeps teasing you, licking her plug. She turns around and takes her panties off, pleasing herself as her long nails hit her clit. Yunjin tastes herself, showing off her perfect dick-sucking lips.

"Let me see that pussy," you say, taking your clothes off, kissing Yunjin, and replacing her hands into her cunt. The good massage you give it makes Yunjin's pussy throb and pulsate, anticipating your cock in there.

"Ohhhhh, fuckkkkk," Yunjin softly whispers as you insert a pair of fingers in her cunt. "You wanna fill every inch of my pussy and my asshole?" she asks. You let your fingers answer the question for yourself, pushing them deeper in Yunjin's pussy. "Oh yes, baby, FUCKKKKKKKk," she moans, her legs trembling as she adds an extra pressure fingering her clit while you finger-fuck her cunt.

"Wanna be my little prostitute tonight? Ride that cock like a pornstar?" you ask her. "YES, BABY, I WANNA BE YOUR LITTLE WHORE, YOUR LITTLE FUCKING PROSTITUTE; I LOVE BEING A WHORE," Yunjin screams. "I love having my holes used like fleshlight and pounded like a pornstar," she continues.

"How hard are you gonna use my asshole, baby?" Yunjin asks. "You'll know that soon, baby," you say to her. "But first, I need you to take all these clothes off and let me worship that pussy," you tell her.

Yunjin obliges as she pulls her bra to the side and shows you her perky tits. "Oh my God, yes, eat my pussy; get it ready for your cock; that's what I want, fuckkkkk," she says as you dive her face into her pink hole.

"Get it nice and wet; make my pussy feel good," Yunjin whispers as you work your tongue and finger simultaneously inside her pussy, getting your fingers wet. "You have that asshole stretched out already; put your fingers in there," Yunjin says, showing you her insatiable anal kink.

You put both your index and middle fingers on Yunjin's anus. "Oh my God," you say as Yunjin's butthole surprises you, acting as if it is like a cosmic black hole that sucks everything in its vicinity. If it was behaving like that just with your fingers, can you imagine when you put your cock in there? "Look how gaped it is already, holy shit," you say to her.

You give Yunjin's butthole a trial run as you pump your fingers in and out of it. Your cock is probably twice as large, and those fingers are already doing some nice damage. "Ohhhhhh, fuckkkkkk," Yunjin enjoys it.

"I can't wait to feel that cock in my asshole," Yunjin says as you keep poking it with your fingers. She gives you a massive smile as you toy with her butthole, making her let out a big scream. "OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH, YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS" as she starts squirting just with the anal stimulation you provide her.

"Taste it, taste it, taste it," Yunjin begs as you sniff her pussy. You then lie on the bed, your already massive erection pointing up and waiting for her to suck it. "I can't wait to use this cock," Yunjin says. "I wanna do whatever I want with this big fucking cock," she continues as she licks your shaft and you seize the opportunity to spank her sexy ass.

Yunjin gets on top of you as you two start performing a 69. You love how long her legs are and how they wrap around your face. She coats your shaft with her saliva and massages your balls before taking that microphone deep in her throat. "I'm gonna get it very wet," she says.

You can't resist and start thrusting upwards against Yunjin's slutty face. But she clearly wins this round. "Fuck," you scream, unable to beat her magic throat as she just dives it deeper into your shaft, jering it off in triumph. "YESSSSS!" she yells. More saliva covers your cock as you find out Yunjin is truly a nasty spitter.

"That uncut cock is going to feel so good deep in my asshole," Yunjin says as she sucks it further and slaps it in her face, her tongue sticking out in glee. You try to push her head further down your shaft, but once again she takes it like a champion.

"Let me look at that pretty face sucking my big fat cock," you tell Yunjin, turning around in the bed, letting her kneel in front of your body to suck your cock. With you watching, she turns up a notch, bobbing her head even faster trying to prove herself for her sole audience.

"You're so hot working on that dick, don't fucking stop," you tell Yunjin, trying to fuck her face once again only to see her come out on top once more. You get up and start sucking her tits while she masturbates herself. "Enough, just get on top of that cock," you say to her.

"Right there," Yunjin says as your cock enters her pussy. "Oh my God, your cock is so fucking thick, it's twice the size of my asshole boyfriend," Yunjin says. "Such a giant fucking cock stretching my pussy open, that's what I want," she continues.

You wrap your arms around Yunjin's body and thrust upwards against her cunt, determined to destroy it. "YES, POUND THAT PUSSY, I WANT EVERY FUCKING INCH OF THAT COCK," she yells, leaning down as your bodies get closer and she gets her cunt stretched out.

"Take that cock, you fucking whore," you say to her. "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH," Yunjin screams, but quickly regains control and starts twerking on that big dick. "SPANK MY ASS WHILE I RIDE THAT COCK," she demands, getting really loud as you hit her pale cheeks with your heavy hands.

"Fuck every fucking inch of my fucking pussy, yes, yes, yes," Yunjin drops tons of f-bombs as she bounces on your cock. "Go slow, you fucking slut, don't make me fucking cum yet," you have to ask her as Yunjin is very energetic riding your cock.

Yunjin slows down, switching to straighter and longer bounces. "That's right, you dirty fucking whore," you say to her. She then starts grinding. "You're so deep inside me, just stuff that whole dick in my pussy," she begs. "YOU'RE GONNA MAKE ME CUM, FUCKKKKKK," she screams as her pussy juices drip down, her walls clenching harder when you tap her ass shortly after.

As Yunjin tastes herself from your cock, she's already thinking about her next move. "Fuck, I wanna feel this thick cock in my ass," she says. "Then come feel it," you say, getting her body sideways as you prepare to insert that huge prick in her anus at a spooning position.

"Show me that pink asshole," you tell her. "I need your cock in it, please," Yunjin begs. "Right there, right there," she repeats as you slide it in her butthole. "Tell me you want it," you say to her. "Yes, I want this fucking cock, please," she answers.

You thrust fast into Yunjin's asshole in spooning position as she puts her finger in her pussy. "Ohhhh yeahhhhh," she moans as she gives you a big smile. "Make me your little anal whore, yessss," she says as you keep pumping it. "Take it as deep as you can get it; I want every inch of it in my ass, every fucking inch," she begs.

"Stuff that thick cock right in my asshole," Yunjin demands as you stop thrusting and grab her tits while digging deeper and deeper into her anus. "Oh my God, make me take it, fuck," she says as you resume pounding it, trying to push all your nine inches inside it. "I want you to use me like the total whore I am," she says. 

"USE ME, DADDY, FUCK MY ASSHOLE," Yunjin screams as you increase the heat up her butt. "FUCK MY ASSHOLE, DADDY," she keeps screaming. "Shut your fucking mouth, you prostitute," you tell her, putting your hands over it.

But the last thing Yunjin wants is to stay quiet. "STRETCH THAT ASS, GAPE ME," she screams as soon as you start choking her and hammering her even harder. "This fucking ass is made to be fucked," she tells you.

You slow down and appreciate Yunjin's tight butthole. "You're so fucking good in my ass," she says, kissing you and switching up into more of a girlfriend experience. But quickly she goes back to being her usual whore self. "I don't want you to stop; I want you balls fucking deep in my ass," she says shortly after.

"Give me the whole thing, AHHHHH," Yunjin says before she puts her hands in her mouth and covers it. You manhandle her butthole hard while simultaneously finger-fucking her cunt and making juices rain out of her pussy.

"Stay there," Yunjin says, keeping your cock in her ass. She gets up and climbs on top of your body, sitting on your cock in reverse cowgirl and giving you a perfect view of her sexy ass. "Right there in my ass, daddy," she says, letting you grab her legs and thrust upwards into her butt.

"I love to feel every inch of it in my ass," Yunjin says as she starts riding your big dick. "I want to bounce up and down that cock with my ass until I die," she says. "My asshole is made for that big cock," she continues to talk while bouncing.

"FUCK IT, FUCK IT HARD, DADDY," Yunjin commands as you pound her hard up her butt. "POUND MY FUCKING ASSHOLE," she keeps saying as you now reach your hands to finger her pussy and make her eyes roll with so much pleasure. "FUCK ME AS HARD YOU CAN," she screams, challenging you to destroy her to the fullest.

"Don't make me cum yet, your fucking prostitute," you say, shoving Yunjin's body off of your cock as you nearly fill her ass already. You have been with her for just 15 minutes, but you paid for 30 and want to survive up to it. Yunjin slaps your cock in her face, very satisfied. "Looks like I'm a great fucking prostitute, aren't I, daddy?" she asks.

"My asshole tastes so fucking good in this cock," Yunjin says as she starts savoring your meat. "Stroke with that pretty mouth; you're so good sucking dick," you tell her as Yunjin takes your cock deeper in her throat. "How many fucking cocks have you used like that?" you ask her. "Not enough," Yunjin answers.

"So you like to cheat on your boyfriend before he even cheated on you? What a whore," you say to her face. "Yes, daddy, I can't help myself; I'm a true addict to cock in my ass," Yunjin replies to you.

"Don't worry, I'll give more of it, but first I need to stroke that dick in your naughty tongue," you tell her, jerking off as she licks the tip of your uncut cock every time it emerges out of your foreskin.

"Look what a fucking whore you are," you say to Yunjin. "Now, show me that asshole," you ask her. Yunjin turns around and spreads her cheeks for you to shove your cock back in it. "That pink butthole is so pretty," you tell her right before spitting on it and shutting it down with your massive cock.

"Damn, you're so tight, you fucking bitch," you tell her as you go back into manically thrusting up and down her ass. "Yes, daddy, I want to be one of your favorite fuckholes," you tell her. "It's gonna be a tough competition; I fucked a few of your groupmates, and I can tell they are quite big anal whores too," you tell her, bragging about your perfect nights with the other Le Sserafim girls.

You mount on top of Yunjin to properly use her. "Tell me how you want it," you say to her. "I WANT IT BALLS FUCKING DEEP," Yunjin screams as you stretch her butt out. "GIVE ME WHAT I WANT, THAT BIG THICK COCK BALLS DEEP IN MY ASSHOLE, YESSSSS. BURY IT IN ME, DADDY, BURY THAT FUCKING DICK IN MY ASS, YOU'RE MAKING ME DROOL" she continues to yell as she fingers her pussy and starts coating the bedsheets with her squirt.

"HARDER, DADDY, PLEASE." Yunjin keeps begging, as the only thing preventing you from stuffing your balls up her butthole is the tightness of it. You give her no breaks and pound her hard, fast, and balls deep just as she asks.

"Show me that hole," you tell Yunjin as you pull out of her ass. She spreads her cheeks, showcasing the massive gape you left in her pink anus. "Open it for me," you order as Yunjin spreads her butthole out and shows off her pounded guts to you. "I love when you do it; let me put my fucking tongue in it," you tell her, licking her asshole.

"Oh fuck, daddy, your tongue feels so good in my asshole," Yunjin says to you as you also start to sniff her dirty butthole. You effortlessly put your cock back in it, as her asshole is already so stretched out it offers little resist to your shaft, pounding her now at a straight angle.

"Put that dick where it belongs," Yunjin says as you resume pounding her. Queefing sounds start to come out of her asshole as you put her on the verge of achieving an anal orgasm. You pound her ass, but her pussy lips are now also parting in half, letting all the fluids flow out of Yunjin's body as she gets anally destroyed.

Yunjin cums all over the besheets as you enjoy the pink gape in her anus right after pulling out. "Fuck, that's too pretty," you say it again. "You like this pretty asshole, daddy?" she asks. "Yes, it's so beautiful and swallows up my cock with such ease," you reply.

Yunjin is so horny she starts fisting her entire hand up her butthole. "Oh, fuck," she moans as each of her long fingers disappears one by one inside her anus. "Oh my god, you really want to stretch that ass to the fullest for me," you say as you watch Yunjin put her arm all the way up to her wrist inside her asshole, even fitting the pair of bracelets she's wearing all the way down it.

"That fucking asshole is made to take cocks," Yunjin flaunts about it as she keeps fisting herself and teasing you. Watching Yunjin squirt as she puts her arm up, her anus is so beautiful. "Don't stop, keep going," you motivate her. "I love that," you say just as Yunjin finishes it and leaves her hand up her mouth to enjoy more of the taste of her asshole.

Yunjin keeps teasing her anus for you, fisting it, winking it, and gaping it multiple times. "It's so fucking made for anal," she says while doing it, building up your desire to get back inside it. "All I want now is to be your anal whore, daddy," she adds.

You fulfill Yunjin's wish and, with no warning, shove your cock back in her asshole. "OH MY GOD, FUCKKKKK," she soon screams. "I'M SO ADDICTED TO YOUR COCK, IT'S LIKE A FUCKING DRUG," she keeps going as you treat her butthole like a jerkoff fleshlight.

"I love how you make me your personal fuckhole, daddy," Yunjin says as you increase the pace even further. "I'M YOUR FUCKHOLE, I'M YOUR FUCKHOLE, YES, YES, YES," she screams nonstop.

"Wanna sit on that dick?" you ask Yunjin after you're finished drilling her. "Of course," she says. "Then turn around and show me that ass; I want to see it getting impaled by my big fat cock," you tell her.

"Perfect," you say as Yunjin slides your cock up her butthole and starts twerking on it. You slap her cheeks, which she interprets as a code to go harder. "Fuck, I love this so much," you say as she starts spreading them out while bouncing on it.

"You want to cum in that tight little fucking asshole, don't you, daddy?" Yunjin asks as she picks up the pace. "Definitely," you tell her. "Look how I take this whole fucking thing in my ass; isn't it good, daddy?" She keeps asking, but you can only groan, trying to hold your composure not to cum as her butthole clenches all over that dick.

"You've got such a perfect asshole," you compliment Yunjin while giving her butt a couple extra slaps as she stays bouncing on your cock. "And you've got such a perfect way to fuck it, daddy," she responds. "Fuck my ass hard while I play with my pussy; make me squirt all over these bedsheets," she continues.

You thrust up Yunjin's butt once again, making her cheeks clap. "Come taste more of that asshole, baby," you say once you're finished. Yunjin slowly pulls your cock out, only to surprise you with an insane deepthroat that drives you crazy, then playing with your shaft and sucking it like a lollipop, spitting all over it like a good whore playing with her personal toy. 

"I love to stuff that cock down my pretty mouth the way you stuffed it up my ass," Yunjin says as she gets very sloppy with your prick, bobbing her head on it while grabbing your balls and making it throb. 

Yunjin uses the spit on your dick to lube it and sits on it shortly after, this time with her face turned to you. But better yet, her squirting cunt facing you and giving you easy access to finger it, hoping for a gush so intense that it hits your face.

You quickly show Yunjin who's in control and fuck her hard even with her tall body on top of yours. Her pussy slowly starts to get wetter, her tits bounce, and her eyes roll. "Yessssssss," she moans hard. "Your asshole is so good, still so fucking tight after all that gaping," you tell her. 

"OH, YOU'RE GONNA MAKE ME CUM," Yunjin screams as she puts her hands in her cunt and starts fingering it. "FUCK, I'M CUMMING WITH THAT BIG COCK IN MY ASS, AHHHH," she says shortly after, rewarding you with a huge gush of her juice right as your face, just like you wanted it. "God, I love how you make me cum by fucking my asshole," Yunjin praises you shortly after.

Yunjin takes a little break to recover, riding your cock at a very slow pace. "Look at those slow and deep strokes all the way down my asshole; aren't they sexy, daddy?" she asks.

"They make you look like a prostitute, an anal whore," you tell her. "Hmmm, I love looking like an anal whore, daddy," Yunjin says, grinding on your cock just as you grab her neck and choke her. "Don't stop it; keep grinding, you fucking slut," you demand as you reach into her tits and pinch her nipples. Yunjin moans full of pleasure and then shares a few kisses with you. "Good girl, I'm gonna reward you for that," you say to her.

You put Yunjin in a missionary position in bed and push her long legs over her head, inserting your cock back in her ass for another round, pounding her balls deep on an anal mating press while she fingers herself. "Ohhhhh, fuckkkk," a submissive Yunjin moans. "You fuck my little asshole so fucking perfectly, daddy," she says.

"You're such a nasty, worthless whore," you degrade Yunjin while spanking and fucking her butt. "YES, I AM YOU ANAL WHORE, DADDY. THAT'S WHAT I WANT TO BE FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE," Yunjin answers screaming.

"Then spread that hole for me to see it again; I bet your boyfriend can't gape it the way I do," you tell Yunjin. "Yes, daddy, only you gape me like that," she replies, winking her butthole and telling you she wants more.

You destroy Yunjin's ass much to her enjoyment. She loves it, playing with her gaping butthole again and stretching it wide. "Tell me how much you love your big fucking cock taking this beautiful pink asshole, daddy," she says. You tell her by flipping Yunjin around and appreciating her asshole with more tonguing and sniffing, just how she likes it, and making her cum once again all over the bedsheets.

"Taste my asshole after you fucked it; admire the work your big cock did on it," Yunjin says to you. "Damn, you got the most perfect butthole I've seen," you tell her. "You say that to every whore you fuck in the ass, don't you, daddy?" Yunjin giggles and pokes fun of you.

"Spread that hole; I ain't done fucking that ass," you tell her, pushing your cock back inside Yunjin at a prone bone position and pushing her body hard against the already very wet bedsheets. "Look at this hole; it's so fucking hot," you say as you plow Yunjin into oblivion, enjoying her sexy moans. You love stretching her out so much that you insert your fingers alongside your cock in her ass. "Hmmm, I love it, daddy, always wanted to have two in my ass at the same time," Yunjin says.

"How much can you take, you fucking whore?" you ask Yunjin as you shove your middle finger deeper in her anus. "As much as you want to, daddy, spread me open and fuck me harder; spread that slutty hole open; hit me right in that fucking asshole," she begs. You do just that, leaving your mark all over Yunjin's ass.

"Damn, it's so fucking perfect," you're all praising about Yunjin's butthole. You put her ass up and grab what is still left of Yunjin's lingerie to control her while you pound her ass, treating her like a toy.

"FUCK IT, DADDY, SHOW ME HOW THAT ASS IS BUILT TO TAKE BIG COCKS," Yunjin begs as you destroy her. That's who she is, a prostitute, an anal whore; the only difference between her and a pornstar is that she whores herself while the cameras are off, but fucking her is indeed a top-notch pornstar experience similar to some of the best anal queens.

"In and out, daddy, toy with my fucking butthole," Yunjin demands as you tease her with your cock going back and forth in and out of her anus. "Now gape me open, gape my fucking asshole," she begs once you thrust hard back in, using her to the fullest.

"Holy fuck," you get shocked at the size of the gap you imprinted on Yunjin as she spreads her cheeks open. You might be able to fit a tennis ball in there considering how wide it is.

But you aren't done, turning Yunjin around for another round as you want to gape her butthole even further. She fingers herself and asks to be split open and fucked hard. You do just as she asks, ramming her ass with all your intensity. "That's still not enough, you fucking whore?" you ask her, now choking Yunjin with both hands.

"NO DADDY, IT'S NOT ENOUGH, I WANT YOU TO POUND ME UNTIL YOU FUCKING FILL MY ASS WITH YOUR THICK CUM," Yunjin screams as she starts squirting once again with her fingers all over her cunt. "I'm gonna do that, but first I'm going to play a little more with you, whore," you say.

You stick your fingers up Yunjin's squirting cunt before moving them to fist her asshole. "Is that what you want, whore? A fucking gaped and fisted butthole?" you ask her. "YES, DADDY, THAT'S WHAT I WANT, EVEN BETTER IF IT'S FULL OF YOUR CUM," she says. 

"Cum in my asshole, cum in my fucking asshole; that's what I want; please, use this fucking asshole to cum," Yunjin says. "You wanna see this fucking asshole stretched wide open for you?" she asks, doing the fisting now.

"Put it right back in, daddy, show how much you want to use this fucking gaping asshole to cum," Yunjin moans. You jerk your cock off, teasing her. "Stoke that fucking cock and cum in my asshole; make it your little personal cumhole," Yunjin begs and moans as you slide it right back in it for one last round.

Just a couple thrusts are enough for you to fill Yunjin's butthole with your load. She loves it and fists her ass in search of that cum, scooping it with her hands and tasting it. "My asshole is so delicious," she tells you as your cum can't stop leaking from her anus. "Maybe I need to push it deeper," you say, inserting your cock for a little extra fucking. "Yes, daddy, fuck that cum all the way deep into my ass," Yunjin celebrates.

Epilogue

Yunjin puts her butt plug back in as she treasures your cum in her hole. "Fuck, I'm just so full of cum now," she says. "You're now my anal cumwhore, my sugar baby, Yunjin," you tell her. "Yes, daddy, that's what I am; by the way, you can call me Jen," she says.

"Hmmm, Jen and Michelle, that's a nice pair of sugar babies," you tell her.

"Michelle?" A confused Yunjin asks just as someone opens the door of the hotel room.

"Speaking of the devil," you say.

"Looks like you two had a lot of fun in there," Chaewon says. "Indeed we had; wanna go next, Michelle?" you ask her.

"We could do this together, couldn't we?" Chaewon asks. "Her ass is probably too sore for that, but she can use her mouth to help me fuck your ass," you tell Chaewon.

"Deal," the bob girl answers as she takes her clothes off, spreads her ass and you put your cock in there. The night has just gotten even more perfect.

"Let's see if you can be a bigger anal whore than me, Michelle," Yunjin challenges Chaewon as you dig deeper into the older girl's asshole.

"You know what? Let's call Kkura and Zuha too and settle this for good," Chaewon replies.

It looks like we're gonna have an anal whore competition here.