#the motherfucking fucking one who calls the shots

[holylulusworld]

Not my Logan (1)

Summary: Problems with the Multiverse suck. Even more when it brings someone back who has been long gone.

Pairing: Worst Wolverine x Immortal!Reader, Deadpool x Reader (platonic or not. You know him.)

Warnings: angst, language, mentions of loss of loved ones, grief, cocky reader, Deadpool being a pain in the ass, violence, mentions of killings, multiverse chaos, world building

A/N: For my story, all X-Men died, except for the reader. She lives in the same universe as Deadpool from DP & Wolverine. I don’t follow canon. Live with it.

Square filled for the Wolverine bingo @buck-star created for me: Square 1: Claws

“WADE! Wade Wilson! Stop right there!” You growl, ready to shoot the bastard breaking into your property. Well, technically it’s not your property. Or it is. Charles left it to you in his will. Not because you were his favorite X-Men, but because you are the last one standing.

You huff before jumping out of the window. Wade would’ve loved to stop and admire your superhero landing, but he’s busy chasing after a very pissed Wolverine.

“Wolvie, stop! She won’t understand! Fuck. Shit. I said, Stop!” Wade takes off his mask. He wheezes because all he did all day was chase after the worst Wolverine. Logan’s words, not his. “HEY! I didn’t tell you about her for you to run off. We still have a job to do!”

“WADE WILSON!” You start to run, seeing Wade kneel on the ground. He still tries to catch his breath as you storm toward him. “I’d kill you but watching you grow legs and arms is disgusting!”

Instead of decapitating his head or stabbing Wade, you slap the back of his head.

“Ouch, Y/N.” He complains loudly. Wade got stabbed and shot; he lost body parts but whines like a baby when you slap him.

“What are you doing here? No one is allowed to come here any longer. You know that.” You sniff when he slowly gets up. “Not since…”

“I get it, I get it!” Wade raises his hands in surrender before turning around to face you. His face is a mess as always, but you can’t help but smile, seeing a familiar face. If you’re honest, he’s the only friend (if you want to call the cocky motherfucker a friend) you’ve got left. “Extinction is hard.”

“What did you say?” You slap him across the face, earning another whine. “You are an insensitive asshole.”

“Sweetheart, we both know you would have outlived all of them, no matter what. It just happened a little earlier this way.” Wade shrugs before putting his mask back on.

You run one hand down your face and huff. “What do you want, Wade? Is the world on fire, or did you lose a ball again?”

“No jokes about a man’s balls,” he points a gloved finger at you. “But yes, the world is ending once again. Or not. I mean… It depends.” Wade babbles as you put your hands on your hips.

“What did you do? I bet you messed with the timeline again, huh?” you snap at Wade. “Because that worked out so well last time. I told you to not fuck with timelines and shit. The dead shouldn’t come back.”

“Oh, about that,” Wade nervously chuckles. “I swear I didn’t resurrect anyone, but…uh…you see. Maybe, and I’m not saying it happened. But maybe I was hopping through different universes to find an anchor to save our universe from destruction.”

“Wade.” You close your eyes and inhale sharply. “Whom did you bring here, and do I have to kill them?”

“No, no! You cannot kill him,” Wade hastily says. “I came here for a short break. You see, bad guys are after our cute asses, and this is the safest place I know.”

“Christ on a cracker, WADE!” You kick his shin. “I’ve been out of this business for years.” You dip your head, hearing someone sneak closer. “Why would you bring anyone here? This is a lost place. Dead and forgotten. Just like me and the rest of the X-Men. Just like—”

Twirling around, you ready yourself to attack the person sneaking toward you and Wade.

Your body goes stiff, and you whimper, facing the man you lost so many years ago.

“No…” You step back and shake your head. “No…no. Wade. Out of all the people you could bring here…you do this to me?!”

“I swear, if I had a choice, I’d never do this to you. But—” Wade sighs and points at the worst Logan, he brought to your universe. “He wouldn’t believe me. Logan said you must be dead here too.”

You wrinkle your nose. “I cannot die. I am…immortal. My Wolverine would know that.”

The man, looking so much like your one true love, dips his head. He has the same body, the same eyes, and the same claws. Hell, he even wears the same fucking suit. But he’s not your Logan. He’ll never be your Logan.

“Go away. Both of you. Whatever will happen to this universe is not my problem. Maybe I can finally rest then too.”

You turn around to walk away, leaving Wade and Logan’s clone behind.

“Wait, Y/N!” Wade jogs after you. “I know you’re angry, but I couldn’t stop him. If there’s only a tiny piece of the undefeatable Y/N still inside of you, help us. Help me save my friends and this world.”

“Your friends,” you say, your heart heavy with sadness and grief. You glance at the photo Wade shows you, swallowing thickly.

“If there was a way to save your friends, you’d do anything, right?” Wade presses on. Even though he knows it’s a low blow, he cannot shelter you or your feelings. You’re his only chance to convince Logan to help him and get his clones off his back. “Please help me…”

“What the fuck is that?” You dip your head to look at the ugliest dog you have ever seen. “Uh—is that thing even alive?” Crouching down, you poke the dog’s nose with your index finger. “Who did this to you, little pug?”

“I think he was born this way?” Wade chuckles while picking the dog up. “And he’s not ugly. Dogpool is the sweetest.”

“Y/N. How?” Logan finally found his voice. He steps closer to you and Wade, not looking you in the eyes. “Why did you do it?!” He yells before jumping at you.

Logan tackles you to the ground to ram his claws into your sides. He growls like an animal, stabbing you again and again.

“What’s his problem?” You laugh as Logan tries to kill you. His claws dig deep into your flesh, but it doesn’t do much damage.

“Uh—from what I heard, you killed his people because he didn’t love you or shit?” Wade shrugs before letting the dog lick his face.

“YOU!” Logan growls. He slides his claws back in to slam his fists into the ground. Again, and again, and again. You can hear bones crack and flesh tear. “Why don’t you die?”

Logan looks at you, shaking his head. “You’re not her…”

“I assume in your world, I was mortal,” you sit up and push Logan away. While you slowly get up, he watches you with tears in his eyes. “In this world, my Logan would’ve cut your head off for touching me.”

“After we introduced ourselves, we should talk about the guys wanting to end this world. Come on, sweetheart. You know you want to help your Deadpool.”

“You’re annoying as fuck,” you huff while rubbing dirt off your ass. “If you keep that thing in line.” You jerk your head toward Logan kneeling on the ground. “We can talk.”

“She’s not her…” Logan repeats. “Not her…”

“You sound like a broken record,” you say and slap the back of Logan’s head. “And for the record, you’re not my Logan either…”

Tags in reblog.

[woozapooza]

Of all the opinions I’ve seen on The Sopranos since I started watching it last year, one of the ones I hate the most is the idea that Richard and Elliot are ultimately proven “right” about Tony. Richard and Elliot do not know Tony! They have never talked to him! And they are literally, factually, not right about him, especially Richard. In “Tennessee Moltisanti,” Richard—who knows nothing about Tony except that you shouldn’t use anti-Italian slurs around him—tells Melfi that eventually she’ll get past “moral relativism” and reach “good and evil. And he’s evil.” Later in that episode, in the family therapy scene, he says that Melfi acknowledged that, in her last encounter with Tony, she saw his “subhuman” side, a word I am 100% sure Melfi herself did not use because come on. Elliot at least doesn’t use these words, but he doesn’t see any good in Tony and consistently acts like Melfi is deluding herself by holding out hope for him. (I’m not going to get into The Blue Comet in this post for the sake of keeping it concise.) But Melfi has seen that Tony has compassion and a conscience, and so have we in the audience. We know more than Richard and Elliot, and so does she!

Now, Tony is obviously not a good person by any means. I think even Melfi would agree with that. But he is a person who, despite his harsh upbringing, despite the machismo and brutality his position demands, still has a tiny spark of tenderness and compassion inside him. That's what makes him so compelling! Of course he was never going to change for the better, because that’s not the kind of show this is. But that is a statement about The Sopranos, a fictional show made by writers who have a certain artistic vision in mind. It does not mean that Tony as a person—i.e., viewed from in-universe—had no choices, that he could never have changed for the better at all, that he was a destined to be a waste of Melfi's time. It's fair to disagree with Melfi's approach to treating Tony, but the idea that both she and the audience are fools for thinking that a human being who has been shaped into a villain by forces beyond his control is still a human being, with all the value and responsibilities that entails, is so fucking r/im14andthisisdeep it makes my skin crawl.

I realize this post is kind of dramatic, and partly that’s because, well, I’ve just always been the sort of person who gets really dramatic about her blorbos, but it’s also because I hate the brutally cynical, weirdly black-and-white worldview that’s implicit in this reading of the show. I hate it so much!!! The Sopranos is very realistic about the limits of what willpower can do, but it’s also very realistic about portraying its protagonist as someone deeply human: someone with a capacity for both evil and good, who does bad things and justifies them by pretending he didn’t have a choice, but I never bought it, and neither did Melfi. Tony cannot simply stop being a mob boss and start being a saint any more than he can simply stop being depressed, but he does have good in him, and he does have the capacity to make better choices, otherwise the story is utterly pointless!!! 

This has been on my mind because I read Emily Nussbaum’s article about the finale, in which she describes Richard and Elliot as “hard to listen to but essentially correct,” and sorry Emily, I think you’re very smart and a good writer, but my god, I hate this article. To me, it boils down to “the finale was Chase scolding us for empathizing with and caring about Tony” which is not at all how I see the show, and thank goodness, because I think it would be pretty ridiculous to spend eight years telling the story of a deeply human, deeply relatable character and then be like “lol wait, you guys related to him? Cringe! Hashtag society” or whatever. She says that in the final half season, Tony “was becoming his real self: the empty golem.” Seriously? The version of Tony who’s had most of his humanity sapped from him is his “real self”? SERIOUSLY? Okay. I’m gonna go calm down now. I promise. (I actually have one other point I want to make related to the Richard-and-Elliot thing, but I’ll save that for another post because this one is looooong.) I'd just like to close this post with this comment that I've posted here before and will probably post again because I love it so much and it makes me tear up whenever I think of it:

[gutsby]

Cowboy Killers

Pairing: Cowboy!Joel x Reader

Summary: On a mission to find—and fight—your best friend’s lying, cheating boyfriend at the bar, you end up throwing your drink in the wrong face and landing in a sticky situation with Joel Miller, who never plays fair.

Warnings: 18+. Drunk-Assholes-to-Enemies-to-Lovers. Oral (m!receiving). Road head. Age gap. Daddy kink.

Note: My favorite sub-genre of country music is ‘I’m Gonna Fucking Kill My Husband,’ and I think Miranda Lambert’s ‘Gunpowder & Lead’ is a perfect representation of that.

Word count: 4.1k

Forgive and forget.

Forgive and forget.

Forgive and—

“I’m about to lay this motherfucker out,” you announced.

Across the line, your friend laughed.

“Yeah? You see him?”

Of course you saw him. Who else would be wearing a Carhartt flannel and jeans in ninety-four degree heat? Not a soul in this world but your friend’s own lying, piece of shit, hopefully-soon-to-be-ex boyfriend, you guessed.

The game that Old Fuckstick Miller had decided to play tonight was a dangerous one—he was dumb as shit, and you were drunker than a skunk. He was dating your best friend, and she was not present at the Tipsy Bison to see the barefaced clusterfuck taking place before you now.

She was home, over thirty minutes away. He had told her that morning he would be working late, and not to wait up. You were here, at the bar, approaching one A.M. with a Redbull Vodka clenched in either fist and a Texas-sized frown on your face, seeing the very same man with his hands all over a woman that wasn’t your friend. You’d wanted to puke as soon as you saw them. You knew you could never trust a man who claimed to be an Austin native and couldn’t name a single George Strait song.

Your friend had only been dating the guy for a month, and you’d just seen his face in pictures up until now, but from what you could see less than twenty feet in front of you—slightly blurred from all the drinks you’d had—this guy was him. A dick. There, cheating on your best friend.

And no man would get to do that and walk out unscathed if you had anything to say about it.

Your grip tightened on either one of your fizzy drinks and, barely managing to cradle the phone between your head and your shoulder, you gestured over to another friend.

“Dave. Take it,” you said, words slurring a little.

Dave York cocked an eyebrow but said nothing as you passed him one of your RBVs and shimmied off the barstool. By the time he was able to pose his question, your ass, your phone, and your one remaining drink were already wobbling the other way. Vaguely, you heard him:

“Where ya headed, hon?”

You turned and raised your drink, then seriously doubted he would be able to hear you over the blare of the music, but yelled back anyway, ‘I’M GONNA KILL SOMEONE!’

The age-old pro-forgiveness aphorism continued to thump in your brain as you made your way over and began to contemplate every feasible method of murder.

A gun in the face would’ve been too simple—and besides, you’d never owned or shot a firearm in your life.

Poison could be fun, but from the way you were approaching the man now, you seriously doubted he’d ever let you get within a mile of his drink. You nudged the phone closer to your ear and took a sip from your own.

“Closing in,” you told your friend simply.

She’d already given you the go-ahead to execute the confrontation and beat his ass any way you pleased after the fact. Now it wasn’t so much a matter of ‘if’ but ‘when’ you’d finally get to encroach on this little loved up scene at the other end of the bar. The man had had his back turned to you, and the stunning redhead hanging off his neck, likewise, had no idea what was coming. You smiled.

“Promise you won’t go to jail this time?” your friend said.

“Will you bail me out again if I do?” Your grin got bigger.

“Well, duh.”

“Good deal. I’ll be the shitfaced inmate with ‘Fuck Men’ tattooed on her forehead. Wait for Travis County to call.”

“I love you, psycho.”

“Love you more.”

You ended the call.

And you were fully ready to end this man’s life when you saw him lean in to kiss the woman’s neck—that was sick.

You weren’t thinking straight. You weren’t seeing straight

You yelled out, ‘He-e-e-ey, honey!’ without blinking.

The couple turned.

As soon as the man had done a full 180, you flung your drink in his face and made sure the cup struck his nose.

“You cheatin’ FUCK!”

He flinched, sprayed by your vodka-infused energy juice.

The music overhead was loud, but not so deafening as to prevent the bar from hearing your shriek. From the front of the room, a band was playing ‘Gunpowder & Lead,’ and you couldn’t help but feel the song had been fate.

“What the f—” the adulterer started, evidently stunned.

You knocked the Shiner Bock out of his hand and spat:

“Working late, are we?!”

And spilled another patron’s beer reeling back.

“Got a little caught up on the way home?”

Gesturing toward the green-eyed beauty to his left. At first, the girl fixed her stare on you as if you’d sprouted another head, but then, by turns, she was tilting it to him.

“You have a girlfriend?” she hissed.

Cheater McFuckstick was wiping his beard with his hand

Shaking his head.

“Hell no, I ain’t never—”

“LIAR!”

Channeling your inner Representative Wilson circa 2009, you let your mouth fall open and stared at the big, burly man like the Congressman had once done to President Obama all those years ago. The semi-stranger in front of you was far less composed than his political counterpart.

“What the fuck is your problem?!” he snapped.

You felt your cheeks heat up.

“Is she your girlfriend?” would-be mistress said, shrill.

“NO!” you and been-knew asshole yelled together.

You saw the man’s nostrils flare, and at the same time, the woman beside him departed. Quickly. A few people around you cleared the way, while others still stared, gawked, and murmured amongst themselves. The Miranda Lambert cover band continued on without a hitch, though you could tell there had been a stir in the crowd. They probably thought the worst of it was over.

They thought wrong.

“You’re a dick,” you seethed, unrelenting.

You almost expected the man to turn and leave.

You thought wrong.

“You’re a cunt.”

And the man chucked a stray whiskey sour in your face.

The $15 spirits splattered on your skin like the meanest insult of all. His aim was better. Though he didn’t let go of the cup, as you had with him, he did make sure to coat the whole of your twisted look with the liquor, and once it landed, he had had the nerve to do something else, too.

He brought the glass to his lips then drank what was left.

“How’s it feel?” he sneered.

You stood in wet, sticky silence for half a second; arguably, you’d earned that cocktail to the face.

On the other hand, who the fuck did he think he was?

You grabbed a random can of Keystone Light and flung it at his chest to give him a hint—and catch him off-guard.

“You’re a bitch, Tommy Miller!”

“Wh—”

“Maria’s my best friend, you absolute f—”

“What—”

“—and you cheated on her for what? All so she—”

“What did you just call me?!”

“A BITCH!”

“No, the NAME!”

“TOMMY MILLER!”

“I’M JOEL!”

Oh.

Oh.

You and Joel were shortly escorted out of the bar.

Joel’s name, and a trace of bourbon, were still fresh on your tongue when you found yourself stranded in the middle of the Tipsy Bison parking lot two minutes later. You leaned into a car beside you and held your stomach.

“Someone drop you on the head as a baby?” Joel barked.

Presently, for you, the world was tilting sideways, and your head was throbbing at a nauseating tempo.

“Go around slingin’ drinks at any old man you—”

Green. Green must’ve been the color of your face as you braced your hands on your knees and assumed a stance as if to scream at the ground. Rather than expecting any noise to ring out, though, you had only to squeeze your eyes shut and hold onto a hunch for something much less pleasant. And viscous.

Reeking mostly of Red Bull and regret, if you had to guess.

Joel took a big step back, and then he took another.

“Da-a-adgummit, girl, what the—”

He turned away just in time to miss the sight of you emptying your guts on the ground, but not quite fast enough to be spared the sounds of you retching. They were loud. Joel Miller was known to be a largely imperturbable force around these parts, but even he was made to feel queasy hearing that. Out of habit, he clapped his hand to his own gut and stumbled off. He stared at the bar, then at his car, then at the gravel crushed under his feet for what felt like the longest time. Then his gaze lingered to his lower half, and he thought:

‘Please, please don’t gimme no daughters. Please.’

He was forty-five. The time for making babies and raising daughters to be anything like a woman of your ilk was probably long past him. All the same, he kept his gaze on his crotch and sighed. Balls, you better not betray me.

When he heard the crunch of rocks, he turned around.

“HEY!”

Oh, no. No. Not tonight.

You were staggering to your car, keys in hand.

“Hey!” Joel called again, jogging after you.

It seemed the second shout had done him no more favors than the first. You were fumbling to get the key inside the door, and you looked as determined as ever.

Over your shoulder, you tossed back, careless:

“You ain’t the boss of me, Tommy Miller.”

You got the key to turn. You opened the door. You were just about to climb inside what looked to Joel to be the ugliest Dodge Ram pickup he’d seen in his life, when he grabbed your arm.

“It’s Joel,” he growled. Pinching your elbow tight as he tugged it back, “And you ain’t driving anywhere tonight.”

Somewhere in front of him, tilted away from his line of vision, you must’ve been grinning, because the next thing he heard from you was the scoff of a laugh.

“Oh yeah?”

Joel flipped you around to face him.

“Yeah,” he snapped.

Feeling a bit like a kid for mimicking your tone.

What were you, twenty-two? Twenty-three? You couldn’t have been a patron of a place like Tipsy Bison for very long, or else he would’ve recognized you tonight.

Then again, you struck him as the type to have had a fake ID since you were fifteen, so he really couldn’t know.

“I’m twenny-wuh-un,” you slurred up at him, exaggerated, once he’d made you step down from the running board and onto the ground. Answering his last unspoken question with the same, sleepy grin as before. Then lifting one of your hands to wag a finger in his face, “I can drink legal anywhere I want to in this country.”

“Not there,” Joel nodded to the interstate.

You looked to where he’d gestured and whistled. Standing and staring, like he had done to his crotch.

“Well fuck me-e!” you said next, dragging out the sound a childish amount, “You the law or somethin’, Mr. Joel?”

“Ain’t no cop.” Joel rolled his eyes.

You kept smiling. Then you turned on your heels.

And instead of trying to climb back into your truck, you sauntered off—in what direction, Joel couldn’t tell. You were more so bumbling about, turning in circles like the world’s most scantily-clad, semi-intoxicated ballerina. And then you stopped. You put your hands on your hips.

“‘Cause I’m the law,” you resumed in a slow, deliberate drawl. The twang you used was mostly feigned, “And you cain’t beat the law. Don’t nobody get away with that, not even a bunch’a Alabama smart alecks, believe you me.”

Joel didn’t know what the fuck you were talking about. The man was Texas born and bred, and you knew it.

He communicated as much by pinning you with a wide, bewildered stare, and something in that seemed to amuse. You stared back, making your eyes bug out too.

“It’s a quote from a movie,” you said, after a beat, “You’ve never seen Fried Green Tomatoes before?”

Joel couldn’t say that he had.

Joel reckoned there was a lot more than just movies he didn’t share in common with you. Miss Twenty-One. Barely a year past the age he’d been when he’d moved out of the house and tried to make a living on his own.

This woman, this girl he saw twirling out in front of him now probably couldn’t pour piss out of a boot with the instructions written on the heel if he’d asked you to. Joel shook his head and moved his feet, frown etching deep.

“Alright, princess. Up.”

You didn’t seem to understand, until he’d lifted you. Up.

You were thrown over his shoulder and carried to a truck much nicer than yours in less than fifteen seconds or so.

“Stinks in here,” you said as soon as he’d set you down.

Then, sniffing the air—and grinning:

“Aw, hell, Miller…you smoke?”

Joel wished he’d said no.

Wished he’d rolled his eyes and told you to pipe down, stop asking him questions. It would’ve made the drive a whole lot easier, and more peaceful. Nowhere near as painful, either, if he were being perfectly honest—the strain in his jeans had already gotten to be more than he could bear, and all you’d asked for was a pack of smokes.

“They call ‘em Cowboy Killers,” you said, matter-of-fact.

“I know what they’re called,” Joel grumbled in reply. Flicking the radio on and hoping to find a tune that would drown out the too-lovely, cloying voice you’d assumed as soon as you thought you might win a cigarette off of him. More chatty now than ever.

And for one, blissful moment, Toby Keith had you beat. The calm was fleeting. As soon as ‘Who’s Your Daddy’ started to drift through the car’s old speakers, you reached across and turned the knob to the left.

“Gross,” you muttered.

“What?”

“Got a light?”

“Blow me.”

Joel’s harsh, clipped tone was deliberate. The way he’d made himself mean—meaner than he’d been around a woman in a long, long time—was a choice. He couldn’t let your faux sweetness win him now. Not after you’d thrown two drinks in his face, mocked his truck, and foreclosed any possibility of getting laid by way of all your publicized infidelity philippics and shit-talking. Giving in to your charms from where you sat in the passenger seat now would only sink him further in his own esteem. Simply put, Joel’s ego couldn’t take it.

“Okie doke,” you said presently. Shrugging.

“Now keep your—HEY!”

Joel nearly swerved his truck off the road and into a ditch. Your deft little hands had slipped into his lap—and started palming his crotch through the denim.

He’d just managed to right the vehicle before jerking a look your way, staring at your hand, then your face:

“What the fuck was that?!”

“You said ‘blow me,’ Joel!” you huffed, and you seriously appeared as distraught as he was, “Sorry for listening!”

Joel grit his teeth with all the force of a cold steel trap.

“You’re fuckin’ nuts.” He gripped the wheel even tighter.

“I’m aware.”

“Where the hell do you live, anyway?”

You told him.

Your hand slipped down to the seat beside him.

And just as Joel let out what felt like the tiniest sigh of relief—he knew where that was, and the address sounded vaguely familiar—he yelped again. This time, he managed to keep control of his truck, but it was hard.

Your fingers had returned, and they were kneading the bulge under his jeans. Joel flushed from head to toe.

He didn’t have so much as half a mind to make you stop. He didn’t want to see you slink back over to your side of the car. But you were twenty-one, and he was forty-five. And you were both under the influence to some degree. And he was driving, for fuck’s sake. Shit like that only worked in dreams—not on a highway in a town like this.

He turned the radio dial to 75. At length, he heard it loud:

‘WHO’S YOUR DADDY? WHO’S YOUR BA-A-A-ABY?’

He saw you cringe.

“C’mon, Joel,” you groaned, “That’s…yuck.”

The fingers of the one hand kept digging, rubbing, but the other reached out and turned the music down again.

Joel shifted in his seat, feeling the pleasure start to bloom from the pit of his stomach, but not wanting to let you off that easy. Briefly, he looked from the road to you.

“What? You got a problem with Toby Keith?”

“I got a problem with anyone sayin’ ‘daddy’ like that.”

You unzipped his fly. Popped the button of his jeans from underneath the soft shelf of belly hanging over it, and held him, finally. You could only cup his erection through his boxers at that point, but the friction was enough to send a shiver through the whole of the old man’s body. He hadn’t been touched like that by a hand that wasn’t his own in…he couldn’t remember how long. He sighed.

“That why you’ve got your hand down the pants of a man old enough to be your father?” Joel quipped.

He couldn’t help it.

Your hand only gripped him tighter. From the passenger seat, you’d leaned over and started crawling. Scowling.

Your knees swiftly planted themselves on the old, upholstered cushion of the bucket seat, and you slipped a touch beneath the waistband of his underwear. With a hand that was smooth and soft and eager to please, you wrapped your fingers around that base and leaned in.

“You sound like you want me to say it,” you whispered.

Under your hand, he pulsed. His gaze stayed on the road.

“Don’t make no difference to me, sweet pea,” he said, and was amazed how even he was able to keep his tone:

“But those ‘Cowboy Killers’ you wanted…”

Your fingers curled tighter. Your head sank lower.

“…they don’t come cheap, y’know.”

Oh, you knew. He saw a smile snag at the corners of your lips as you brought them to his lap, and he had to force himself to look at the road again. It was empty and dark.

The tarmac stretched out for days. The fields rolling past warned sternly, ‘Don’t let her win,’ and something more in between each tree seemed to invite deliberation—remembrance, maybe. Joel was far too focused on the feel of your mouth to give the woods a second thought.

You’d worked the first inch between your lips in a slick, obscene sort of kiss; you made room for just the head and then toyed with a bead of precum leaking out of his slit. You licked it, squeezed the shaft in your hand, and hummed while the first real moan rumbled through him.

Joel turned to putty with just that flick of your tongue. He didn’t have to see your face to know he was losing.

On the wheel, his grip grew tighter, and he choked out:

“Ain’t your fuckin’ lollypop, kid.”

Then, dropping one hand to push down on your head—make you take him to the back of your throat in one go.

“Daddy wants you to suck him like a big girl, hear?”

At the base of his cock, he felt you gag. From the bottom of his heart, Joel knew there was no sound sweeter than that. He ran his fingers over your skull and tapped gently.

“If you want those smokes,” he told you—and really, with all the warmth and moisture of your mouth enveloping him now, he’d had to try to sound rougher than he was, “You’re gonna do what daddy says and suck him right.”

You gagged again, then squeezed his denim-clad leg with the hand that wasn’t wrapped around his member.

Joel yanked you by your hair and made you look up.

Your cheeks were already smeared with spit and tears. Much to his surprise, he found your eyes alight and soft.

Suffused with desire, too, from what he could see.

“Yes, daddy.” You grinned up at him.

Joel knew if he let your gaze stay on his a second longer now he’d either crash his car, blow his load, or fall in love—and he simply refused to let you succeed on any of those fronts, so he shoved your face back down.

You sucked him obediently. Greedily. Mouth growing more pliant and wet by the second, as if your jaw and salivary glands had contrived to get him as close to release as possible, as quickly as they were able.

Joel took a left onto a road he had only a dim recognition as being connected to yours, and he got that feeling again. You were bobbing your head, taking him further, flattening your tongue along the bottom of his member when his pleasure swelled inside him. At the same time, he felt a sense of dread. His hands were shaking on the wheel. He didn’t dare steal a look down to the sweet, soaked, perfect little mouth sucking him dry, because he knew that feeling would only strike twice as hard. He had to cum, or make you stop, or bring his truck to a halt.

As it was, he felt five tiny crescents sink into his thigh as you gripped him tighter, and a noise bubbled up in your mouth. Your breathing went shallow, and your lips stretched wide—you were trying, and succeeding, in deep-throating his thick, throbbing, much-too-old-for-a-girl-her-age member down close to your windpipe, and Joel could feel it. He hit his blinker, not thinking, and saw a sign that marked your street. Trepidation hit him again.

Fully, this time, in a feeling that was more like terror.

He didn’t have another second to question it, either. By the time he had the old, lone farmhouse in his sights and his heart nearly halfway up his throat with fear, your own throat pulsed, and opened the last two inches to him in. Your nose found their home in the rough, grey, wiry hairs at the base of his belly, having swallowed him whole, and Joel quickly sensed the start of what he knew too well.

He came down your throat in one, two, three, four, five long spurts, and didn’t let his foot off the gas even once.

He saw your house, approaching closer now, and paled.

No fucking way.

You’d wanted to skip the whole way up your drive.

Spit still drying on your cheeks, cum resting comfortably in your belly, and a smile as bright as the sun on your face as you waved to the F-150 pulling off toward the road, you’d never felt more alive—or smug—in your life.

“Is your dad…Lucien Flores?” Joel had asked no more than a second after his dick slipped out of your mouth.

“The one and only.”

Somehow, his face got even paler. His jaw visibly clenched, and his palm hit the top of the wheel. Hard.

It was then that you���d learned your father had hired Joel Miller on as a full-time ranch hand sometime last week.

He’d remembered the address, vaguely, but didn’t connect the dots until he’d pulled up in front of your house and damn near punctured your windpipe with his pulsing dick from how fast he’d jumped up—and cum.

His spend had almost shot through your nose with the force of it, but you didn’t mind. Once he’d revealed the wild, gory, and admittedly hilarious details of his newfound employment, you were too busy laughing your ass off to care if he’d torn your throat in two with his dick.

“So you really are a cowboy, then,” you’d said, giggling.

Joel had scowled. Rolled his eyes. Practically turned the color of a tomato when you leaned in and kissed him.

Now you were waving to him from your front door.

Joel’s truck was slow to go. The taste of him was fresh.

And there, weighing light in your back pocket while you said goodbye was a brand new pack of Marlboro Reds.

2:21 AM

You were safely in bed. You checked your phone.

Aside from fourteen missed calls, you saw:

1:09 AM – Maria

DUDE

1:09 AM

TOMMY JUST CAME HOME

1:09 AM

THAT’S NOT HIM AT THE BAR

1:13 AM

IT’S JUST JOEL!! HIS BROTHER!!!

1:13 AM

ABORT ABORT ABORT

1:42 AM

DAVE SAID YOU BEAT JOEL UP???? CALL ME

1:54 AM – Dave York

Ur gonna fuck that old dude aren’t u

[lixiesbrowniess]

WHAT'S WRONG OLD MAN?

Warnings: MDNI, NSFW, SMUT, sexual content, blowjob, p n v, unprotected sex, rough sex, virginity loss, MAJOR SIZE KINK, deepthroating, dub con, soldier boy's in his 60s so its around 1980s, you called him a grandpa... I guess he proved you wrong.

| Jensen Masterlist |

One shot: Soldier Boy x Actress!Reader

Synopsis: You're starred in a new music video with non other than Soldier Boy. He's technically in his 60s, but damn was he fine as hell. You're in your 20s but the director still chose to give you the sluttiest role you've ever played with a man that literally could've been your grandpa. Yes. You play hard to get, won't last long buuut.

WAS LISTENING TO THIS WHILE WRITING THE SMUT PART PLS I WAS WHEEZING AT SOME POINT LIKE YES I'D BANG WITH HIM.

"Cuuut." the director shouted running towards you while you immediately tear yourself away from Soldier Boy's crotch with an annoyed frown, the director walked towards you looking somehow upset, about to scold you cause for the third time in a row you weren't drooling enough onto Soldier Boy's crotch or not being slutty enough.

You rolled your eyes, as expected the director was scolding you again. And grabbing your wrist and tossing you around "You might be the youngest but thay doesn't make you less of a slut!" The director was shouting in your face. You yanked your wrist back making the older man flinch "Not my fault I don't want to rub myself against a fucking grandpa." You bite back harshly.

You didn't say that out loud, did you? You didn't, right?

You feel your blood running cold watching the director's face going pale looking at you. No. Not quite at you. Behind you. You didn't need to turn around to know he was behind you. And you swear you could feel his blood boil. The scent of whiskey and musk had your head spinning.

You act like you didn't notice, in an instant you excuse yourself to your dressing room, who was surprisingly big, btw. You could feel his eyes on you, following your smaller figure, wrapped in that tight as shit dress that barely covered anything.

You slam the door closed and curse to yourself, letting your body fall onto the sofa and closing your eyes. That was damn close. You could sense he was about to pounce on you. Probably to choke you to death or something. But how could an old man like him look so hot gross. You meant gross.

He had a fucking erection on set and didn't even bother to hide it. He looked even proud of it. And having it against your cheek in front of a camera really didn't made your day. You were lost in your thoughts and you didn't hear the footsteps walking towards your closed door. And you completely forgot to lock it.

You jumped on your seat, yelping at the sound of the door slamming shut, your eyes wide as they focus on the man standing in the centre of the room. Soldier motherfucking Boy was right there towering over you. That sure was intimidating, but so arousing at the same time.

Probably the whole set knew what was gonna happen the instant they saw him walking towards your room. Your throat felt dry. You kept on swallowing, but nothing worked; you opened your mouth to speak, but not a single sound came out of it.

He eyed you up and down. You probably were gripping your dress so hard your knuckles went white. He was still in his suit, but the helmet was gone, letting his wild, brown hair fell onto his forehead. "Cat, got your tongue?" His raspy voice blessed your ears as you shifted in your seat, shaking your head.

"You were so bold a couple of minutes ago. What'd you say again?" He walked closer, his tall figure hovering over yours. "Ah yes. You called me a grandpa." His voice lower as he now was mere inches from you. You kept looking away, trying not to focus onto his visible bulge, which was literally in front of your face.

You swallowed again, clearing your throat "Y-yeah I didn't mean it for real..." You stammered, focusing onto the floor now. Noticing his boots on each side of your little heels. You felt your legs weak. You don't think you could stand right now.

He raised an eyebrow, watching your smaller figure squirm in silence under his gaze. His rough hand grasp your chin sharply, turning it up to make you look up at him "You lie to me again imma fucking slam you to the wall understood?" He was pissed you could sense it. His gaze was harsh as he tightened his grip onto your face, squeezing your cheeks not so lightly.

You groan, knowing they'll leave a bruise. But the way he was looking down at you made a spark spread in your eyes. He must've noticed cause he smirked as he let go of your face. You massaged your poor cheeks, a tingling sensation where his fingers squeezed.

"I see what you are. You think I didn't notice the amount of times you look my way during every single break?" His hands get to work unzipping the costume letting his hard cock slap against his stomach. "Undressing me with those doll eyes." You weren't even listening at that point. Your head was dizzy with his heavy scent.

Your eyes fixated onto his erection, cock standing proud and leaking precum, angry tip almost begging for you to kiss on it. "Little whore, I knew I wasn't wrong about you." He chuckled to himself, his hand slid back onto your chin eyes roaming over your body.

"Suck."

You were brought back to reality hearing his request. No. It wasn't a request. It was an order. You didn't have much of a choice. But unlike your facade, you were for sure willing to do so. He stroked himself a couple of times while your brain was processing what was happening. He 'kindly' held his dick to your face, tip brushing onto your lips, leaving them glossy.

"C'mon, open up, sugar" he slightly presses onto the back of your head. You parted your lips, feeling him pushing himself into your mouth slowly but without any warning. He sighs in satisfaction while you find yourself holding to his thighs and choking onto his cock.

He looked down at you smiling "Oh I know that bratty mouth of yours can do better than this." You gasp, your throat was clenching around him as he pushed your head further, slowly and carefully. You let your jaw slack trying to accommodate his girth, tongue flattened as he shoved your head all the way to his crotch.

You fought your gag reflex as he bottomed out. Part of his lenght slid down your throat. Your nose brushed against his groin. "Oh fuck, that's right." He sighs throwing his head back. Tears prickled the sides of your eyes as he didn't even bother to move he just held you there. You tried to breathe through your nose, barely achieving the purpose.

He looked down at you, his hand onto your nape holding you still while you started to try and back away. "Not so cocky now, are we?" He held your hair in an arranged ponytail slowly, pulling you backwards, allowing you to take a breath before slamming his cock back into your warm cavern. Slowly thrusting to make sure you took him whole every single time.

Once he had enough he pulled your head away letting his cock slip out of your throat. You cough and suck in all the air you can, chest heaving with every breath. A string of saliva connected your lips to his tip, and you shamelessly groaned the view. His cock now glistening with your saliva, shimmering. You kind of missed the feeling of it down your throat already.

"Get up." Your legs moved on their own as you immediately stood in front of him. The authority in his voice makes you soak your panties even more than they already were. You desperately rubbed your thighs together. He lifted your chin, wiping the drip of saliva laying onto the corner of your lips. "So obedient when no one else is watching, huh? A fucking slut for me." He chuckles pushing his thumb past your lips.

You suck at his finger as if it was his cock, eyes fluttering slightly before he pulls his hand away. Soldier Boy pulls you flush against his body, you felt his hard cock against your stomach. He smiles, seeing the cock-drunk glance you gave him.

You yelp suddenly as he landed a slap onto your ass, the tingling feeling spreading as you were sure it was red all over. "Turn around, sweetheart." You face the couch now feeling his hand onto your back, lifting your dress slightly, before he decided to just rip it off.

Your arm moved to cover your breasts in reflex, which made him smirk wider. "How old did you say you were?" His voice deep and agaist the shell of your ear "22 sir." You manage to blurt out. He laughs, a rumble into his chest. "I could indeed be your grandfather." He lowly growled, his hand closes around your throat as you gasp.

"See? You're such a good girl, all wet and ready for me." He chuckles as his fingers play with the hem of your soaked panties before pulling them down. He positions a hand onto your back, pushing you forward, your hands stopping you from falling. You hold yourself up leaning to the headboard of the sofa.

He slightly kicked your legs, spreading them more. A blush spreading across your face as both his hands were onto your ass cheeks, spreading them, to allow himself to admire your glistening cunt, while you clenched under his gaze only. "Now, would you look at that." He groans at the sight. "Your pussy is begging me to split you in half"

You groaned, feeling his fingers ghost around your core and onto your clit. You buck your hips backwards, following his touch, which he quickly denies you. Teasing you and leaving you clenching around nothing "Such a needy whore" he murmurs smirking to himself before landing a firm slap onto your other ass cheek.

You squeal at the sudden tingling pain. His hand immediately rubs circles onto the red spot. You close your fists, squeezing the couch headboard. "What's wrong, old man? Can't find where to sink your cock into?" The words are full of need, you didn't even realize you've said them. You feel another spank, only this time it's directly onto your cunt making you cry out at the force, legs shivering.

He pushes your head onto the cushions, having your ass perfectly up in the air. He leans in, reaching close to your neck, his hard cock pressed against your thighs. "Oh darlin, I know exactly where to hit, don't you test me." He growls, getting back up and blowing onto your redden and swollen cunt. You hold back a moan as he does. He then grips your hips up and pulls them closer, he lines his cock up to your leaking hole, not wasting another instant he pushes inside you, barely half of it entering you.

He groans, feeling ur tightness, making it difficult to move, his hands rubbing your sides as he keeps pushing. "C'mon darlin relax, what are you a virgin?" He jokes, but as he can't manage to push further while you tense around him, and your little cries, he tilts your head back to face him. Your teary eyes meet his green irises. "Shit, you really are a virgin." He whispers, his hand slides between your legs as he leans over your back.

His fingers start to rub your clit causing your body to flinch against him, his other hand holding your hip against him. He kisses your neck and starts sucking onto your tender flesh. Your eyes flutter at the unexpected pleasure. As you finally start to loosen up around his cock, he starts to push inside you without stopping his moves onto your bud. His girth splitting you open, it felt so good, your cries slowly becoming shameless moans of his name.

He bottomed out, forming a bump onto your womb, your hand stroking it slightly. Your eyes roll back as he starts moving in and out of your soaked cunt, you moan loudly as his hips slam flush against yours. Your moans get whiny timing with his thrusts. He groans feeling your cunt clenching around him.

"Literal mentally a whore physically a virgin huh?" He chuckles holding your hips while you push back to meet his vigorous thrusts as your whimpers filled his ears. He kept his steady rhythm against your, making your body jolt forward every time his hips slammed against yours.

You felt heat pooling into your core as your cunt fluttered around his cock, you tightly gripped to the couch, burying your face into the cushion, your moans becoming high pitched "Ben I'm－" You feel your orgasm approaching quickly as he rolled his hips, his cock bruising your cervix deliciously.

"Yeah babe, cum for me, let go." With that you felt your overwhelming climax, you cum soaking his cock. He grunts, slamming against you as your velvety walls clench around him "F-fuck" You stutter as he keeps his hips snapping into yours, hitting deeper sliding with ease thanks to your juices.

Your moans become louder, the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room while he grunts and groans against your skin "Fuck you're so damn tight." He groans as his thrusts start getting sloppy, you can feel his cock throbbing inside you. You feel yourself cumming again as he buries himself balls deep into you shifting a little upwards, the bulge forming onto your tummy. He finally feels his own orgasm approaching.

He pushes himself even deeper, bulging out onto your lower belly. After driving himself into you a couple more times he cums shooting thick ropes, painting your walls white, filling you to the brim "Oh fuck yes" he lowly grunts before pulling out watching your body tremble before falling onto the couch. He grinned at his nice work, having you full with his cum, some of it leaking out of your cunt.

He tucks himself back into the suit in a hurry. Much to your surprise, he's still pretty hard. He reaches to your body, you yelp as he picks you up, throwing you on his shoulder, spanking your tender flesh, he slowly walks out, frightening the director who was about to knock onto your door.

Your cunt on full view while he walked out. "S-Soldier Boy, we might need to do some more takes of the last sce-" the director started "No that's wrap. Send it away. I'll see you tomorrow." Soldier Boy interrupted him, walking towards his trailer with you hanging from his shoulder.

"Got more important things to do so piss off."

[myownwholewildworld]

A DARK COMFORT ― a Boston QZ!Joel oneshot

series masterlist | ao3 pairing: Boston QZ!Joel x f!reader. summary: it is that time of the month and Joel helps you by fucking the pain out of you. a/n: joel is the type of man who loves his woman every day of the month and i will die on this hill. this is purely self-indulgent, sorry not sorry? as always, comments, likes and reblogs are much appreciated <3 take care! x warnings: 18+, mdni. pwp honestly. period sex. period blood. use of a menstrual cup. reader is dealing with period pain, cries a fair bit. cock as pain management. cockwarming. unprotected piv. creampie. mind the hefty age gap (reader is 19, joel is 56, oopsie). pet names (kiddo, daddy's girl, little girl, etc). daddy kink. dom!joel, sub!reader. ddlg dynamics. a bit of mean!joel too. a sprinkle of slut shaming. reader is a blank slate with no backstory, has hair. only reader's pov. no use of y/n. w/c: ~2.5k. divider by @\cafekitsune

You squirmed, pain radiating from your womb in all directions, your toes curling under the bedsheets and fingers tight into fists.

This didn’t happen every month, but when it did, it hit you like a motherfucking truck, almost rendering you unconscious. Your period could be a bitch sometimes, making you feel moody and restless. Like now. Your uterus had a mind of her own, wanting to escape and run free into the world. The pain was blinding, disarming you until you were a sobbing ball on Joel’s bed, desperately clutching at your lower belly, begging for this to be over.

But your cramps were not the worst part of it, no.

Your boobs were. They were so sensitive, the light brush of your bra hurt like hell. Heavy and swollen, they were extremely sore to the touch. Your nipples had tautened, buds painfully wrinkling — your areolas were so oversensitive it felt overwhelming. You couldn’t even touch them without tearing up.

“Kiddo?” Joel called from the living room, but you didn’t answer.

You were focusing all your energy on keeping the pain at bay, couldn’t think of anything else right now. So out of it you were, you hadn’t noticed Joel had entered the room until he sat beside you on the mattress.

“What’s wrong?” he husked, the palm of his calloused hand rubbing your back.

Your brows furrowed, the pain from your lower back momentarily chased away by his caress.

“I'm hurting real bad, daddy. My belly, my back, m-my boobs...” You whispered, pouting, trying to stop the tears.

“My little girl is hurting?” he tsked, his hand moving from your lower back to the swell of your ass. “Can’t have that. Let daddy help you, kid.”

Without voicing your agreement, Joel’s fingers hooked around the elastic hem of your pyjama pants and tugged at them whilst curled up on your side.

You writhed a little when your bottoms and underwear were pulled down to your ankles.

“Daddy... I-I’m on my period...” you sniffled, glassy eyes following the motions of his hands as he untangled the clothing from your feet and threw the items to one side.

Joel didn’t even flinch.

“So? I’m still gonna help. C’mere,” Joel palmed his lap.

You quietly obliged, sitting up on bed while pain shot in all directions. It was so intense it caught you off guard, bending over at your waist while you wailed and hugged yourself.

Joel stood up in front of you, scooping you up. Driven by pure instinct, you laced your hands behind his neck, holding on as he walked you both to the bathroom.

Once there, he put you down on the toilet bowl and coaxed your thighs apart whilst kneeling in front of you. You looked at him shyly, trying to press your thighs together, feeling really exposed right now.

“Nuh-uh,” Joel tutted at you, warm palms on your inner thighs as he pulled your legs further apart. “Nothing to be shy about, kiddo.”

As he spoke, his middle finger had found your clit and pressed it gently. But despite the softness of his stroke, it still hurt.

You hissed in pain, hips bucking up as you grabbed his shoulders, your nails leaving bloody crescent moons behind. You shut your eyes and tilted your face to the ceiling, mouthing a silent prayer.

Luckily he didn’t insist, and instead his fingers travelled further down until they found the removal ring of your menstrual cup.

When he started pulling, your eyes shot open, and your fingers wrapped around his wrist to stop him from removing your menstrual cup.

“Joel...” you mumbled.

This felt so intimate, so personal, you didn’t think your hormones could take it.

“Trust me, kiddo. It’s just blood. It’ll make you feel better,” he whispered in reply at the same time he tugged at the removal ring and the cup broke its seal.

The splashing underneath sounded vile, a stream of blood dripping from your hole until the water in the bowl turned a deep shade of red.

You looked away, ashamed right now of your own body. But Joel wouldn’t let you feel the embarrassment, his words reassuring.

“I’m here to take care of you, baby. Even when you’re all moody and giving me the silence treatment for no reason whatsoever,” he said while standing up to grab a towel and wet it under the sink. Joel then crouched down in front of you again and wiped your pussy clean delicately. “You gotta learn to voice your needs, kiddo.”

“I'm sorry I’ve been a bitch to you the whole day, daddy. I just... I don’t know what I need,” you sobbed apologetically, sweeping the tears from your cheeks.

“I’ll show you what you need, so next time you know to ask for it,” he replied matter-of-factly, throwing the cup and the towel in the sink. “Can you walk?”

You nodded and submissively followed him back to the bed. Still standing there, naked from the waist down and a white tee shirt covering your chest, you watched Joel make himself comfortable on the bed.

When he unzipped his jeans, his hard erection sprung free, slapping his lower tummy. Joel scooped up his balls too, spilling over the worn fabric, and then stroked his length a couple of times.

Your pussy gushed, and you were not sure if it was your arousal or period blood. The sudden contraction of your inner walls sent a shiver up to your abdomen, another cramp making your tear up.

“Sit on him,” Joel purred, extending a hand towards you to help you get onto the bed.

“But...” you hesitated, hugging your shoulders with uncertainty. “I’m dirty, daddy.”

“Sit. on. him,” he growled, punctuating every word. “Don't make me repeat myself again.”

Still hesitant, you accepted his hand and jumped onto the bed, turning around on his lap so you were straddling him backwards. Joel’s broad hands rested gently on your hips as the flushed tip of his throbbing dick flicked your clit. You bit down your bottom lip, eyelids brimming with tears again. It was just too much, so your pussy hovered over his manhood indecisively.

“You’re not dirty, little girl. It’s blood, ain’t nothing wrong with that,” he croaked, kissing your neck.

Joel guided your hips, wiggling them a bit until his cockhead hitched in your wet entrance. Slowly he pushed you down his shaft, your cunt eagerly swallowing him whole until he was fully seated inside you, his balls kissing your swollen pussy lips.

Your walls burnt as they parted to house him, a sting of pain shooting up your body again as you gripped Joel’s forearms for support. You sobbed quietly, feeling full to the brim.

“Relax, kiddo,” Joel muttered, peppering your neck with kisses.

You took in a big breath and leaned your back against his chest. Joel didn’t move at all, letting you get used to the intrusion until you finally calmed down, the pain dissipating with every passing second. A few minutes later as you cockwarmed him, your cramps were completely gone.

Joel’s hands roamed your body, massaging your flesh gently — your thighs, your hips, your lower belly. He was so delicate but still put the right amount of pressure on your muscles to slacken.

You let go of a throaty sigh when his palm pressed against your lower belly and remained there for what seemed to be a long time. The added pressure on your womb felt good, but felt even better because now the presence of his thudding dick in your pussy was staggering. The only thing you could think about.

You circled your hips, grinding on him, but his hands were quick to clasp on your hips and stop you right in your tracks.

“I said relax, don’t move,” he ordered from behind you.

You did as told, squirming a little but remaining still.

After a while, the dull ache in your womb was gone, but the one on your breasts and nipples became more prominent. Joel felt your restlessness and without telling him what you needed of him, both of his hands drifted up your frame and below the tee shirt until they gently cupped your underboobs.

You whimpered when the textile of your bra brushed harshly against your sensitive buttons.

“Get rid of the bra and the tee shirt, they are not doing you any good, sweetheart. The fabric is just gonna hurt your pretty nipples even more,” he advised, tone raspy.

Leaning forward a bit, you removed your tee shirt and the bra quickly followed after that, flying across the room as you slouched back again against him. The moment you did, Joel began massaging your boobs, gentle but firm squeezes moulding your flesh but completely avoiding the nipples.

At first, it hurt too, your prickly buds so painful it was almost unbearable. You whined again, but that didn’t stop Joel, who kept on kneading your breasts, working and easing the swell of your bosom slowly but steadily.

“M-my nipples hurt, Joel… It’s like they are on fire… It’s too much…” you sobbed, resting the back of your head on his shoulder, little breaths reaching your lungs as you hiccupped.

“They are so sensitive, aren’t they?” You nodded, eyes shut and wet. “I know, kiddo, I know. You poor little thing…”

His tone wasn’t mocking but tinged with worry. He did care about you, otherwise Joel wouldn’t be taking all this time to ease your pain, to soothe you. And it was working, because his cock, deeply furrowed inside you, was keeping the cramps away.

“I’m gonna touch them, alright? Might hurt a little first, but the pain will go. Okay?” he husked and you shook your head yes. “Daddy’s girl is so good, so strong. Just push through the first sting of pain and you’ll be fine.”

The moment his thumbs flicked your nipples, you hummed in pain, squeezing your eyes shut, your nose wrinkling with effort as your top teeth sank into your bottom lip. You even stopped breathing as Joel pressed gentle circles on your sensitive, taut nubs.

“J-Joel… God… They hurt so bad… Please make it stop,” you sobbed and begged, tears running down your warm cheeks.

“Shhh, it’s alright… Deep breaths, baby,” he coached you by inhaling and exhaling loudly so you would follow his lead. “Attagirl, keep going.”

When your breathing stabilised, Joel covered both of your nipples with his palms, fingers gently digging in your meat as his hands moved in circles, rubbing your painful buttons until they were warmed up and soft again. You sighed heavily, the pain slowly disappearing whilst his rough palms smothered your nipples.

Finally, you had no pain at all. Your womb felt tight warming his girthy cock, squeezing him sweetly, and your boobs, although still swollen, were like putty while Joel cradled them. With the pain gone, now there was room for something else — a warm pulsing in your core, commending you to look for the final release that would wipe out any background ache.

“You’re ready now, aren’tcha?” Joel gritted out, biting your shoulder as his cock pulsated between your vibrating walls. “My little bitch’s in heat. This is how you deal with it, kiddo. You just need my cock ruining your pussy and then you’ll feel better.”

You squirmed in agreement, moving your hips in circles on his lap. Suddenly your skin was extremely hot to the touch and your pussy was clamping down around his girth.

“Daddy, please,” you implored, your clit burning with desire now.

“I don’t appreciate how moody you’ve been today, so much fucking attitude. You gotta behave better than this,” he scolded you, gripping your breasts tighter. “I’m letting it go this one time, but next I won’t be as understanding. Got it?”

All the gentleness he had showered you with until now was gone, anger simmering under the surface of his skin. You could feel it irradiating from him.

You were so overwhelmed, so horny now, you couldn’t reply.

“Use your words, kiddo. I want to hear you apologise,” he snarled, one hand releasing your boob to travel down your chest until it reached your puffy pussy. Joel rubbed your clit and you screamed, seeing stars behind your eyes. “Speak.”

“Yes, daddy. I’m sorry. I’m so s-sorry. I’ll behave better next time I’m in heat. Please forgive me,” you beseeched, feral with lust.

“Good girl,” his fingers left your clit and clutched your unattended breast again. “Now bounce on me. Make me come.”

You didn’t need any further instructions. With the push of your knees, you began bouncing on him while Joel cradled your breasts. Your drenched pussy was so wet with your arousal and your own blood, the squelching sounds lasciviously filled the room. You jumped on his shaft as fast as you could, his mushroom head kissing your cervix every single time, sending you over the edge to the point where your eyes were constantly rolled back and your agape mouth drooled.

The whole thing felt sinful, but so damn good. So good, a few minutes later you were both coming. Joel’s warm spent filled your pussy to the brim as he moaned behind you uncontrollably, your cunt clenching around his circumference to milk him completely dry. Your own climax hit you like a brick wall as you fell to the abyss of your pleasure, heaving like a maniac.

Joel’s rugged breathing told you you had met his expectations, his hands gently roaming your body again. When you came down from your high, you leaned forward to unplug your gushing opening, but Joel’s hands on your hips stopped you from doing so.

“No, kiddo. Stay where you are. You don’t want the pain to come back, do you?”

“But the blood…” you trailed off, looking down to where you were joint like mating dogs.

Dark blood pooled on his empty nuts, mixed with the slick of your shared arousal. A red trickle ran down his thighs, staining the bedsheets underneath. Now that the haze of pleasure had dissolved, it felt ungodly, dirty, shameful even.

“How many times do I need to say it? Don’t worry about the fucking blood,” he sneered, slightly exasperated with you. But you couldn’t help yourself.

Your bottom lip trembled with his reprimand, the hormones rushing through your system with free will.

Joel sighed, hugging you until your back was resting on his chest again, his cock still plugging your opening.

“Don’t cry. Sorry, kiddo,” Joel nuzzled your cheek before kissing it. “I know this is your first time with period sex, but it’s been good, hasn’t it?” You nodded shyly, looking at him askance. “If you ain’t hurting now and feel satisfied, don’t worry about anything else.”

His words calmed you again. Joel was right. It’d been good — more than good, if you were to be true to yourself. The pain you had been suffering for hours was now a ghost of the past all thanks to Joel.

“Thank you, daddy,” you hushed, tilting your head in an invitation.

Joel bowed down, his tongue meeting yours, wrestling until you were out of breath. When the kiss broke, you giggled.

“Don’t mention it, kiddo,” Joel replied, his hands finding your breasts again to massage them as you cockwarmed him.

[unstable-samurai]

Breathing This Calm Night - smut

Yunjin x Male Reader

ONE-SHOT

Tags: fluff, oral sex, one-shot, tightjob, penetration, k-idol, famous girl, secret relationship

A/n: This is my first request. Thanks @dav1233555 for the plot suggestion 🫡

The two of you were anxiously dragging yourself towards the end of the day. Slowly the hours passed, seeming to last longer than they should, while a hurried and hard routine was followed, with no time to even exchange a few messages.

But you were finally free, at least for now, from the mess that is a magazine of international relevance.

I'm arriving

You read the message and smiled at the phone screen. It wasn't crowded at the restaurant you chose to have dinner at. You reflected for a moment, and thought there was a bit of madness in what you two were doing, but it was indisputable that it was genuine and pure.

Truth be told, this whole thing was real. And thinking that this could be a bit crazy (in other people's eyes, to be more precise) only made your panoramic view of society more bitter.

After all, what was so great about being a foreigner and dating a K-idol? Well, you weren't the guy who was going to change the view of an entire society, so worrying about it was useless.

At least there was some security that this relationship would not be leaked to the media. Well, you were in fact part of the fucking media. There was support from the magazine you worked for (not that you were the owner or anything), and at least no one on your team would poke your eye out. Some other editors you trust already knew about your relationship. It was one of the countless advantages of being in a high position in the company and having a strong influence on what happened inside. I mean, someone from the magazine could try to fuck with you, snakes exist everywhere, doing this in an attempt to self-promote or even abandon ship, handing over the leak of your relationship to another magazine or tabloid (in the headline the motherfuckers would find a way to use the word "affair", just because your previous relationship ended a month before you met Yunjin). But you would discover the funny guy so easily that there wouldn't even be any fun in solving the mystery. All it took was a single call to your father, simply the greatest editor-in-chief who worked at the magazine's headquarters. Already retired, but still exercising great decision-making power thanks to his long years of contributions to the magazine. Your old man was seen almost as a royal advisor or a wise monk where directors, managers and editors from various sectors of the magazine went to ask for advice and help. You were relatively shielded from leaks.

You noticed her approaching. Well disguised, with glasses, hair tied back and comfortable clothes. She looked like just another ordinary girl. You couldn't help but notice the NY Knicks sweatshirt you had given her as a gift, it was both of your favorite team.

She greeted you with a discreet hug. You still hadn't gotten used to the fact that you couldn't give a peck in public que in South Korea. In your perception, it was the most normal thing in the world.

"Hi, baby! How are you?" she asked you as she sat down at the table.

"Better now, honey. What about you?"

"The same!"

"Was the day as hard as always?" you asked.

"Yeah, definitely!" she replied. Yunjin seemed eager for this question. She continued: “In the morning I had rap class. By the way, I think I'm getting better. Oh, and in the afternoon I recorded my lines, like, over and over again. The music producer has a very specific vision of what he wants for this track. He apologized and admitted that it might take some time to achieve the desired result.”

"Well, I trust your talent. Remember that you and your group are dealing with a delicate concept. I have seen up close the production of albums that address intimate themes, it is always a challenge, but also a true work and certainly a amazing gift for the fans. You girls are going to do great."

Yunjin laughed, a little shyly.

"It feels like I'm talking to a music critic instead of my boyfriend."

"Well, you're actually talking to a music critic. Oh, by the way, I remembered that I won't be writing the article about Le Sserafim's new album like I said before."

Her expression was one of surprise. Yunjin asked:

"Is it because of me?”

"Yes." you answered honestly. “Well, look, love, I'm prioritizing our relationship and thinking about the future. If this is for real, eventually the press will hear about us together, and a review from me about my girlfriend's music group obviously it would make my opinion seem partial and biased. It's just to avoid future problems."

"Okay" She looked upset. "But I'll still want to know your opinion when you hear the album."

"I'm really looking forward to hearing it." You smiled, making her feel better. "I left the review about the new album for a good friend of mine to write. I really respect her opinion."

"Well, i think we're in good hands. But let's stop talking about work for a bit!"

The waiter seemed to have heard Yunjin's speech as he appeared to save them right after she finished saying that. Yunjin had great taste in food, that's why she always chose the order for the two of you, you weren't the "culinary trailblazer" type; a few months in South Korea and you only knew five typical dishes (always returning to the arms of the big fast-food chains).

"Oh, I almost forgot to give you this!" You handed her a gift. "It had been on my lap for so long that I had forgotten I had brought it with me."

"Oh, baby! You didn't have to do that!"

She started to unwrap it.

"Hope you like."

You waited for her reaction. Yunjin smiled and made a cute little noise when she saw that it was a book (although she already knew from the shape of the gift wrap).

"You know I love reading! Thank you so much."

"It's The Alchemist. I know you love fantasy and this silly self-help thing. This book is a mix of both."

You saw her eyes light up.

"You're perfect. I love how well you know me. And self-help isn't silly, it's very good for evolving as a human being." she scolded you.

You shrugged.

"It's not the kind of thing I'd like to put on my bookshelf. But to each their own.”

She laughed.

"I'm still going to make you read one of these."

"Well, I've already read The Alchemist. If for me it's average, for you it will be a masterpiece."

★

It was around 10pm when the two of you finally arrived at your apartment. Dinner was very good, especially dessert (that bingsu thing was really delicious), and by that night there was no more energy for more fun, it was preferable to have a good night's sleep so that the next day you could do something together. Even so, Yunjin hummed excitedly in the car on the way home. You appreciated all that joy.

You took off your shoes while Yunjin took off her NY Knicks sweatshirt, leaving only a tight tank top on her body. You noticed that she wasn't wearing a bra by the way her breasts showed through the fabric of her tank top. You slowly approached her and grabbed her from behind, kissing her repeatedly. Yunjin wrapped her hands around your neck as she giggled at the series of kisses.

“Will you be my teddy bear tonight?” she asked sweetly. “I need your affection so much, baby.”

“Whatever you need, sweetie.” You said as you kissed her on the neck.

Things were heating up. Your hands slid down Yunjin's soft belly, heavy sighs escaped her mouth unconsciously.

“Look, we still need to shower.” she said.

"No problem." you answered.

“You're putting me in the mood. I'm warning you that if you keep touching me like this, you're going to have to go all the way to finish what you started.”

“And since when has this been a problem for me?” you asked as you led her to the couch.

You took off your shirt and belt from your pants. Yunjin took off her jeans, leaving only her tank top and adorable pink panties. Your hand slid down Yunjin's left thigh while you kissed her right thigh. That was more than enough to give her goosebumps. She had her legs wide open, waiting, almost begging, for you to touch that place. Instead of doing it right away, you decided to play with her a little, kissing and biting her inner thigh while using one of your hands to lightly massage her pussy through her panties. Your lips slid to Yunjin's crotch, where you licked the entire area, she reveled in the act, trying hard not to close her legs with the spasms she was having. It didn't take long for a wet stain to darken the pink of the panties. When you finally removed Yunjin's panties, you saw how wet she was. So horny that she couldn't wait for you, fingering her pussy slowly, opening it with her fingers so you could see how drooling she was; a successful action of provoking you. Then you realized how hard your cock was, pulsing in your pants, painfully tight, which made you hornier.

Without wasting any more time, you dived between Yunjin's legs, eager to taste her (that flavor that was becoming increasingly familiar and addictive… Part of your life. Yeah, we could put it that way), your tongue delighting in the taste and the cozy warmth of the inside of her pussy, while Yunjin moaned softly, digging her nails into the sofa cushions.

“I love it when you suck me like that, baby. You make me feel so good!” she moaned.

At one point she asked to stop because her lust was unbearable and that way he would have an orgasm in a short time.

“I want to feel your cock inside me now.” she said. You had just taken off your underwear when she added, “Wait, what if we fuck in the bathroom. Let’s save time, what do you think?”

Your response was to lift her off the couch and take her to the bathroom. You turned on the light with your elbow and, before you could think of anything, she said:

“Fuck me like this! Your cock goes deep into my pussy when you fuck me in the air.”

You kissed her intensely while you tried to fit your dick into her pussy. The feeling of your cock sliding inside Yunjin was wonderful. Upon realizing that your cock was well placed inside her, you grabbed Yunjin's thighs tightly and began to thrust into her energetically while she held onto you, moaning compulsively.

And Yunjin was right, your dick went deep in that position. You could feel her deep inside, the entire length of your cock was being used, and she loved it. When she announced her orgasm, you wanted to make sure it was intense and pleasurable, the way it made her roll her eyes, so you lifted her a little higher, grabbing her ass, while Yunjin wrapped her legs inside your arms, making her practically hang from you and her pussy is completely inside your dick.

“Oh God, Baby! I’m cumming!”

She trembled holding onto you, while you practically rubbed her pussy on your dick, always rotating it close to your body. It was just a shame that you couldn't enjoy her eyes rolling back at the moment of orgasm, you simply loved seeing her go crazy with pleasure, but there was also a certain contentment in just knowing that it happened.

You sat Yunjin down on the sink and there you started fucking her again, looking deeply into her eyes. At one point she looked at you with so much passion, so much desire that there was a sudden growing desire to fill her pussy with your load of cum.

“Hang me, love.” she asked affectionately.

Her hand wrapped around just over half of her neck, serving as support to fuck her even harder. Sweat running down both bodies, your gaze was lost between the mirror's reflection, her eyes, her tits and her expressions of pleasure. With the sensations highlighted, you realized how much you loved Yunjin and how much this feeling contributed to eminent pleasure during sex.

Holy shit! You were almost there.

You thought about how much you wanted to go deep into this, literally to the end, but you were without a condom and suddenly stopping the act to go get a condom at the end of the championship was a bit... discouraging.

But you have an idea.

“Stand up, sweetie” you said. “Let’s try something new.”

Yunjin got out of the sink, looking at you excitedly.

“Get in the shower stall with me.” you asked, opening the door.

"What do you want to do?"

“It’s nothing out of this world, but it occurred to me that you’ve never given me a tightjob, I think it’s time we tried it.”

She had some assumptions about what this position was, but you helped her anyway. Yunjin was a rather tall girl, so there were no problems for your dick to fit between her thighs, the result was perfect, nothing uncomfortable. You thought about turning on the shower to lube up a little, but her pussy was so wet and the continuous sweat running down between her thighs was already more than great. You grabbed Yunjin's waist tightly and she crossed her legs a little, squeezing your dick.

You began to thrust into her, your cock sliding back and forth as you dragged Yunjin's labia. So you discovered in the best way that this was very pleasurable for both of you. The internal heat started inside you again and gradually you lost yourself in that exciting sensation. As you approached the final explosion, you bestially grabbed Yunjin in every way possible, sliding your sweat-damp hands down her belly, squeezing her breasts and slapping her ass. You lost yourself in the voluptuousness that was Yunjin's body and- Fuck! She loved it. She loved being your instrument of pleasure, knowing that the person she loved so much reached maddening peaks of passion, desire and lust for her. A juice of feelings for an insatiable thirst.

“Oh baby! I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna-”

Without any warning, Yunjin began to move her hips in a rhythm that immediately took you to the precipice of pleasure. The soft, hot, wet, suffocating skin of her thighs dancing over your cock. This was too much for you. When you came, you hugged Yunjin tightly, holding her as if your life depended on it, giving in to inconstant and uncontrollable moans close to her ear. The frantic thrusts lost their rhythm, going deeper and slower through Yunjin's thighs. She held your arms affectionately, waiting for your breathing to become less labored before kissing you.

"I love you." You said to her.

The phrase was so loaded with something that covered your feelings at that moment, and you wished she was the woman of your life and would never leave your side.

"I love you too!" said Yunjin when she found a way out of your tongue. “Baby, you don’t know how much.”

“This took longer than expected. Let’s take our shower.”

“Yep! Let's go."

You turned on the shower. The hot running water was invigorating, even more so being next to Yunjin, you didn't know that sharing certain intimacies was so special until you finally did it with her. you soaped Yunjin's entire body, she helped you wash your back and you shampooed her hair, gently massaging her scalp; it was cute how it relaxed her, she seemed so surrendered to you in that moment, and just a few months ago you were sitting across from her and the other Le Sserafim girls, asking incisive questions about the creative process of their latest album. That's where it all started, after all. And who could say where it would end?

“Hey, baby, let me shampoo your hair now.” Yunjin said with a cutie smile.

Nobody, you thought. Nobody could say.

A/n: sorry for any grammatical errors 😅

[mattsmedusa]

✎ 𝐯𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐫𝐚 𝐯𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 ✯ 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐭 ✮ 『 +𝟏𝟖 』

ⓘ 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐡 + 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 ᚐ use of sexual drug ᚐ vulgarity ᚐ handjob ᚐ blowjob ᚐ facial ᚐ cum eating ᚐ pussy eating ᚐ threesome (no incest tf) ᚐ (kinda) rough sex ᚐ creampie ᚐ breeding kink ᚐ dirty talk ᚐ bulge kink ᚐ size kink ᚐ (slight) pain kink ᚐ big dick!matt ᚐ big dick!chris ᚐ dacryphilia ᚐ auralism ᚐ spanking ᚐ boob sucking + fondling ᚐ dumbification (?) ᚐ degradation kink ᚐ praise kink ᚐ pet names ᚐ three different sex positions ᚐ (slight) manhandling ᚐ fingering ᚐ double penetration ᚐ etc. + intended lowercase. 𝐰𝐜. 𝟒𝐤

"like we should all get them and then just like sit at the house," "matt!" chris exclaimed — laughing, briefly showing the different viagra pills on camera. "all rock hard and be like the first one that have to go nut is like the loser." the video ended and started again, leaving you with a gaping mouth. your eyebrows raising in amusement as a disbelieved chuckle escaped your parted lips.

you turned your head towards your best friend, matt, who was sitting on the couch beside you, nonchalantly scrolling through his phone as if he wasn’t the one that uttered those absolutely flabbergasting words. "you serious?" he looked up from his phone, confused, "serious about what?" he said, cocking an eyebrow.

"uh... the whole viagra thing?" matt chuckled, "oh, that? no, i wasn’t, but chris was i guess, he went back to the store and bought 4 of those." your jaw dropped, "... i’m assuming one is for me?" matt shrugged, "probably" he mumbled before looking back at his phone. "crazy," you muttered, shaking your head and just as you were about to text chris and ask him what he was thinking, chris himself walked into the living room with a huge grin.

he showed the four packets of viagra like it was some crazy price he had won at a lottery, "look what i have," he giggled. you looked at him like he was nuts, "are you serious?" your eyes darted to nick who stood just by the kitchen island, hands on his hips and looking at chris with raised eyebrows.

chris cocked an eyebrow, his eyes shifting between you and nick. his shoulders slumped slightly and he threw his hands up, "c’mon, don’t look at me like that," his grin grew wider despite his tone, "it wasn’t my idea in the first place, but it’ll be fun—" "being rock hard and suffering is fun? just because you wanna win that stupid 'whoever jerks off first is the loser'?" nick interrupted.

"c’mon, it’ll be fun!" "no, it won’t! why are you so fucking adamant about this?!" chris groaned and plopped on the couch beside matt, "nick, c’mon, let’s just try this once."

✩ 𝟏𝟎 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 ✩

"can’t believe this shit," matt grumbled as he adjusted his position on the couch, a pillow on his lap to hide the growing bulge in his pants. nick sat grumpily beside you, a fluffy blanket on his lap to hide his own boner.

"alright, maybe we shouldn’t have." chris laughed sheepishly as he adjusted his position, a blanket on his lap as well. nick shot him a dirty look, "i told you motherfucker!" he spat out, annoyance clear in his tone, "can’t believe you forced all three of us and now look what you’ve done! she’s clearly uncomfortable," nick said, jerking his head towards you.

you chuckled, fidgeting slightly on your spot, "i’m alright... kinda?" nick sighed and stood up, the blanket wrapped around his hips "alright, i’m done," he said before walking towards his room and a few minutes later his footsteps padded downstairs, "i’m going out, don’t even think of calling me."

the front door slammed shut, leaving you alone with matt and chris. your phone pinged with a message and you opened it to find a new message from nick saying he’ll be at his boyfriend’s and that you should probably go home if it’s getting too uncomfortable for you. you typed out a response, saying that maybe it’s better if you go home for the day.

you sighed and stood up, your whole being was aching to be fucked. the viagra was working perfectly, but is that what you wanted? absolutely not, you were ovulating anyway and with the effects of the viagra combined — your panties were drenched in arousal.

it would’ve been fine if you were at home and alone, but you were at your best friends’ and with two good looking guys in sight you were beginning to doubt your willpower... you sighed again, catching their attention.

you had to get out of there before you utter something ridiculous and ruin your friendship.

"you okay?" chris asked, standing up and wrapping the blanket around his hips. "am i okay? this is ridiculous chris, can’t believe i even agreed to this, what are we even doing? i mean, why did you even buy one for me? it’s not like i’ve a dick." matt chuckled, adjusting the pillow on his lap, "yeah? y’wanna go home then? should i drive you?"

"drive me? in that situation?" you gestured vaguely at his pillow-covered lap, "thanks anyway." you sighed. your breathing was growing shallower and you knew it wouldn’t be long before you’d become a mess. you shifted your weight on one leg, your thighs subconsciously rubbing together ever so slightly to relieve the building tension.

matt and chris seem to get the hint, their own breathing growing ragged as the effect of the viagra became stronger; their chests were heaving with deep breaths in a futile attempt to calm themselves.

"i give up, i’m done," you said as you walked towards the bathroom. they exchanged a quick glance before chris quickly held your wrist, keeping you from walking away and what he said next made your whole body freeze.

"should we help?" you slowly looked back, eyes widened like saucers and jaw slackened. "what!" you shouted, totally taken aback. they flinched, not expecting you to raise your voice so suddenly, their faces slowly flushing as they realized how absurd it must sound.

"woah, woah, don’t shout." chris chuckled despite his own embarrassment, glancing at matt before looking at you. "it’s fine if you don’t want to, that was just a suggestion." chris shrugged, trying to downplay it.

it’s fine if you didn’t want to? fuck, you really wanted to.

after a few minutes of silence, you finally spoke again, the viagra making your head fill with inappropriate thoughts despite your best efforts to keep yourself from pouncing on your best friends. "you serious...?" your voice came out quiet, almost like a whisper as you looked between the two identical men.

"are we serious? you’re seriously asking that?" chris asked you back, raising his eyebrows, almost overly amused by your question as he looked back at matt. "would it be bad if we said that we’re dead serious?" matt spoke this time, a small smirk creeping up his lips as he looked at your increasingly fidgety figure, your expression itself let them know how torn over you were, but what you muttered next was not what they expected, at all.

"then fuck me if you mean it." your eyes widened as quickly as you said those words, your expression matching theirs as your jaw dropped. "pause- i mean the-uh, v-viagra isn’t making it easy to think rationally and-and you just planted that stupid thought in my head and i-" you started to ramble, trying to backpedal, chalking it up to the aphrodisiac.

"don’t worry sweetheart, we’ll do just that."

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

before you knew it, you were being led into matt’s room with chris behind you as matt held your hand and walked in front. a surprised yelp escaped you when chris smacked your ass, giggling as he gave it gentle pats. "look at it jiggle." he commented as he smacked your ass again, eliciting another surprised sound from you.

as soon as you all stepped into matt’s room, chris gently guided you down on the bed as matt closed the door and walked over to the bed. chris sat down beside you and matt sat on the other side of you — sandwiching you between them.

their hands were aching to touch you, as well as their dicks.

"o-kay, who do you want first baby? me or matt, or maybe both?" chris teased, jerking his head towards matt, and that damned grin combined with his sharp canines was doing wonders on your already horny state.

your panties were soaked through and sticking to your pussy.

"fuck... i don’t know, uh, both?" you mumbled, not trusting your voice to speak any louder. chris and matt exchanged a knowing glance before they quickly complied with your request and started to touch you, their hands working quickly to strip you out of your clothes. their breaths hitched simultaneously when they saw the state of your underwear.

"fuckin’ soaked ain’t yuh?" chris’ boston accent slipped through — betraying his arousal.

both of their pupils were greatly dilated and pants painfully taut around their erections and they were quick to take off their own clothes, not seeing the point in waiting any longer. a small gasp fell from your lips when their hefty lengths came into view, all red and angry with precum oozing out of their tips.

their lengths were rock hard due to the viagra — bobbing obscenely with each of their movements.

your panties were the next to go along with your bra and as you lay there on matt’s bed naked, you couldn’t help but let reality sink in. you were probably going to have sex with your best friends and that made you feel a bit uncertain, but not unwilling. just as you got lost in thought, a sudden jolt of pleasure snapped you out of it.

matt’s fingers had found your slick slippery clit.

your lips parted to let out a breathy moan, your hips jerking slightly as matt’s fingers deftly worked your swollen sensitised nub. chris couldn’t help but let his hands roam over your body, clutching and squeezing every part of your body he could, groaning quietly at how soft your tits were.

he leaned down and captured one of your peaks in his mouth as matt leaned down as well, kissing the swell of your other breast and trailing his lips down until he was eye level with your soaked pussy — your folds glistening with arousal. matt looked up at your flushed face and parted lips, chris’ mouth suckling at your nipple as his hand pinched and rolled your other nipple between his thumb and index finger.

a sharp gasp escaped your lips, followed by a soft moan when you felt wet warmth on your pussy from matt’s tongue. he flattened his tongue licked a long stripe up your slit, savoring your taste before he parted your lips with his thumbs, his forearms keeping your thighs up and against your chest.

"fuck, you taste sooo good." matt moaned against your cunt, his moan slightly muffled as he delved deeper, burying his nose in your folds and making the tip of his tongue small and sharp to prod at your entrance.

your back arched, pushing your chest into chris’ face as your fingers tangled in his fluffy locks, encouraging him to continue as your other hand went down to card through matt’s hair, your fingers curling in his brown locks. soft moans exited your lips almost rhythmically — unable to keep quiet due to their skilled mouths.

your hips bucked slightly, rolling against matt’s mouth as you felt yourself get closer and closer, but before you could come, however, matt pulled away from your weeping cunt; his face glistening with your juices. you whined needily at the loss of his warm, wet tongue against you, your eyes heavy lidded as you gazed at matt with confusion etched onto your features.

the two of them exchanged a look, the same damned smirk plastering on both their handsome faces as they looked back at you, chests heaving with ragged breaths and their cocks twitching at the erotic scene of you sprawled on the bed in front of them — looking completely undone.

"fuck, i don’t think i can wait any longer." chris mumbled, and matt nodded in agreement. "i think my dick’s gonna burst." chris breather out, his hand slowly stroking his length as matt helped you get in position — you facing matt with your ass presented in front of chris.

chris’ hands greedily squeezed your ass before spreading your cheeks apart to reveal your glistening pussy. he let out a low whistle, biting the side of his bottom lip as he guided his aching cockhead to your cunt. his breathing grew increasingly ragged when he started to run his tip up and down your slit.

as much as he wanted to tease you more, he, himself, couldn’t take the teasing and slowly pushed his tip into your welcoming hole. a satisfied moan slipped past both your lips at the sensation of him filling you up. matt couldn’t take it any longer and guided his tip to your lips, nudging his swollen tip against it. you parted your lips, opening your mouth to take his cock.

matt let out a breathy sigh when he finally felt your warm, wet mouth around him, his hip jerking forward involuntarily as your mouth began to work your magic on his thick length. "yess, sweetheart — juust like that... mmfh-fuuuck--" he groaned, eyes threatening to roll back at the sensation.

chris didn’t wait any longer and started to thrust into you from behind — his hands gripping your hips tightly as he pulled back until only the tip remained inside before snapping his hips forward and filling you to the brim. his tip kissed your cervix with each of his deep thrusts, eliciting desperate moans from you.

the viagra was making everything 10x intense.

you were sooo wet to the point that every time chris’ cock thrust inside your pussy it made a loud squelching sound. chris couldn’t resist the urge and his palm came down on your right cheek with a sharp smack! which surprisingly made you moan around matt’s shaft.

both of them cocked an eyebrow, lips curling slightly with amusement despite the pleasure coursing through them. they exchanged a knowing look, smirks turning wolfish.

"oh, yuh like that don’t ya?" chris grinned, his hand landing another slap, but this time on your other cheek. his hand smoothened over the reddening skin, his fingers sinking subtly into the flesh there as he surged forward and fucked you with vigor. "who would have known you’d be such a slut?" chris’ words somehow sparked heat in you, the almost mocking tone only serving to make you needier.

"what happened, sweetheart? yah head stopped moving." matt grinned, mirroring chris’ expression. his hand patted your head condescendingly as he rocked his hips forward, making you gag slightly. "c’mon, yuh can do better can’t ya?" matt’s accent peaked through, and it seemed like their boston accents were becoming stronger the more aroused they became.

you tried to bob your head and pleasure him, but the feeling of chris’ hefty length plunging in and out of you and hitting your sweet spots was making you unable to focus on sucking matt off. matt noticed the way your eyes rolled back briefly, mouth stilling on his cock as you moaned around it. he pulled out abruptly, instead taking your hand and wrapping your fingers around his thick shaft.

matt’s shaft was slick with your spit — making it easier for you to give him a hand job. you started to pump his cock with your hand, your lips slightly swollen and coated with both his precum and your saliva.

a few more minutes of your unrelenting hand along with your sweet noises and the pleasure-filled expression on your face made matt’s lower stomach feel taut with his impending orgasm. his balls drew tight as his shaft swelled slightly in your hand.

matt’s breath hitched, his hips moving shallowly as he fucked your fist, feeling the bands in his abdomen just on the verge of snapping. his eyes closed shut, breaths coming in short pants as he got closer to the edge of his climax. suddenly, he felt his orgasm wash over him in strong waves. "oh f-fuck--" he choked out, pearly rope after rope of sticky cum spurting out of his slit and onto your face and stuck-out tongue.

as if following suit, chris let out a drawn out moan when his cock exploded out thick, warm cum deep inside your welcoming pussy. "ffuuuckk-- m’cumming! c-cummin’ inside, shit-shit-shit!" he gasped out quickly, his hands tightening on your hips as he fucked you shallowly — prolonging his high and ensuring that his load won’t spill out.

breeding you.

matt’s erection was still in your hand, stiff as a rock and twitching slightly when you continued to jerk him off slowly, his hips jerking due to sensitivity since he had just come. his hand wiped some of his cum from your face and brought it to your lips, watching with lust-filled eyes as you sucked his fingers clean. you moaned softly when chris pulled out — his length still rock hard as well despite just coming.

they switched positions and helped you turn around to lay on your back. matt stepped between your spread thighs while chris stood on his knees just beside your head, his hands gripping the base of his length as he guided it to your mouth, running his cum-coated tip along your lips.

a quiet groan left chris’ lips when you took the head of his cock in your mouth, swirling your tongue around it before leaning forward to take more of his shaft greedily. he looked down at you, watching as you struggled to take his length, a smirk making its way onto his lips as he caressed your cheek. "good girl." he cooed, hips rolling against your face as he fed you more of his length.

meanwhile, matt’s tip nudged against your slick entrance, subconsciously licking his lips as he slowly pushed in, making you moan around chris’ cock. matt didn’t wait any longer and surged forward with a grunt, filling you up with his hefty length — his tip pushing against your cervix hard. you whimpered around chris’ length at the – almost painful – pressure, eliciting a low moan from him.

matt’s hips snapped against yours, his arms wrapped around your thighs, holding it in an iron grip as he started to pound into you, making your breasts bounce. your body moved in rhythm with matt’s railing and your moans vibrated on chris’ dick, which made him moan lowly. with your encouragement chris started to fuck your face, his fingers curling in your hair to keep your head still.

you were getting railed while getting your face fucked.

suddenly, chris pulled his length out of your mouth, his tip connected to your lips with a pearly string of precum and saliva. you watched as he gestured to matt and stood up from the bed, walking over to the closet, but before you could ask what was happening, matt slammed into your g-spot with such precision that it made you see stars.

matt pulled out slowly when chris approached, gently pulling you up into a sitting position. you watched with heavy-lidded eyes as matt laid down and gently grasped your wrist before pulling you onto his lap in a cowgirl position. he easily slipped in again, gripping your hips as he helped you bounce on his dick.

chris kneeled on the bed behind you, gently pushing on the small of your back to make you lay on matt. "you wanna try something out, ma?" chris asked, his hands kneading your ass as he opened the cap of a lube bottle with a soft pop. matt slowed down his thrusts, giving you a chance to think.

"try what?" you mumbled, yelping in surprise when you felt the cool lube run down your ass. "double penetration." chris chuckled, seeing you shudder from the sudden coolness. "it’s fine if you don’t want to though, pretty." matt said, his hands caressing your sides. "yeah, we won’t do something you don’t want." chris added, his hands caressing your backside.

you thought for a moment, or well... pretended to think. after all, the thought of being fucked by both of them simultaneously made your pussy flutter around matt’s cock. the brunette under you smirked, noticing how into the idea you seemed. "yeah... we can do that, but, um, will it- you know... fit?" you asked hesitantly, making them smirk.

"well, don’t worry ’bout it, we’ll make it fit."

with that, matt started to thrust up into you, his arms wrapped around you to keep you from sitting up as chris’ cock nudged against your full pussy. he poured a generous amount of lube on his shaft and your pussy, making sure it was lubed enough so it wouldn’t hurt you when he stretched you along with matt.

"alright, ma, m’gonna push in, breathe out when i do." chris said as he gripped the base of his cock, gently pushing his tip in after you nodded your head — giving him the green light. you moaned when chris pushed in further, sliding in rather smoothly thanks to the lube and your slickness. you squirmed at the burn of the stretch, but unable to move away due to matt’s arms holding you in place on top of him.

"relax, baby." matt murmured, kissing your neck and sucking on the sensitive skin there as one of his arms left its tight grip on you and snaked down to play with your clit, gently rubbing the sensitive nub in slow circles to distract you from the burn.

chris pushed in more until he was almost all the way in, stilling to let you adjust to the new fullness. "fuuck, you’re so tight." chris hissed, his brows furrowing in pleasure, hands gripping your waist. "mm-shit... you alright, baby?" he asked, letting out a shaky sigh of relief when you nodded with a small 'yeah'.

"we’re gonna start moving now." matt said, his hands falling down to cup your ass, squeezing the supple flesh there before he slowly started to rock his hips, followed by chris doing the same — their cocks moving in rhythm inside your velvety walls.

your hands clutched onto the sheets, whimpers turning into moans and mewls as the burn morphed into mind-blowing pleasure. you didn’t even notice when, but at some point you had started to fuck back into them, moaning about how good it felt.

"p-please, more–mmh-ah–feels so good." you cried out.

that made something – primal – in them snap and they started to fuck you with wild abandon just like you wanted and begged for, leaving you a moaning mess of praises and pleas for more.

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

you were going dumb on their dicks — getting fucked absolutely silly. you couldn’t think coherently or form coherent sentences even if your life depended on it. you were too overtaken by pleasure to do so. your eyes watered with tears of pleasure, and the sight almost did it for matt; meanwhile, chris felt himself grow closer and closer to coming undone at the pretty sounds falling freely out of you.

the bed creaked under you in rhythm with their pounding, mingling with your moans and their heavy breathing along with the wet sounds and sounds of skin slapping against skin. matt’s fingers snaked down and strummed your oversensitized bundle of nerves again.

that was it.

you cried out as an earth-shattering orgasm crashed over you, stealing your breath away, and your vision tunneled, body trembling and your inner walls fluttering rhythmically around their cocks. their own peaks were just a bit away and the feeling of your gummy walls squeezing them just right made them tumble over it.

moans and groans were heard as they filled you up, yet again.

both of them pulled out, watching as their combined releases trickled out of your well-fucked pussy. you both panted, gulping down air, bodies shuddering with aftershocks, and yet, a few minutes was all they needed to compose themselves and they easily manhandled you, helping you into a different position as they prepared for yet another round of many tonight.

their lengths were still hard — the viagra doing its job.

✩ 𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐰 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 ✩

the effects of the viagra finally subsided, leaving you three utterly spent and catching your breaths all sweaty and naked. Their combined release trickled out of your well-fucked pussy, and onto the sheets under you. your body was sticky with their cum, your hair disheveled and hickeys alll over your body, but you were all too exhausted to clean up the mess.

a few minutes was all it took for you three to drift off into a deep sleep. totally and utterly spent from the passionate fucking that you will most likely regret in the morning, but that’s for the future and at the moment all you could think about was how completely sated you felt.

in the end, viagra won.

୨୧

✩ ˙˖˚᮫ ⁱˢᵃ ᮭ ᮭ.ᐟ i feel like this is ass... anyway, oh my god have i been neglecting this account lmaooo (it’ll probably stay this way sadly, buuut at least here’s this lol). also, this fic has been marinating in my drafts for two damn months chat... TWO MONTHS. geez...

[𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞!]

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @chaossturns @mels4ngel @lypsiiii @sydneyylainn @sturniolozbae @hearts4werka @strnilolover @matts-sidepiece @hearts4sturniolo @ivysturnss @bumbl3b34 @sophand4n4 @sagesturns @gwennybenny @whore4mattsturniolo @sturns-mermaid @christmastreecake @il0vey0um0st @summersturni @ashleysturn @unknvhx @nateismybf @lizzymacdonald06 @sleepiibunniiii @plrlvssnz @patchy-icey @greekgirldreaming @moosegirl96 @sllutty-sturniolo @rinnsgalaxy @urfavvt4ylor @pasteldreams @heartsonlyforchris

© 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐬𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐚

[nevertheless-moving]

Considering the amount of emotional and moral nuance he managed to muster up immediately post Guanyin temple (despite having a terrible week and zero good role models) AND considering his front row seat to the dissection of Jiang Wanyin and Wei Wuxian’s downfall, I think that in a time travel fix-it, Jin Ling would actually be pretty successful at brute forcing yunmeng family therapy.

I mean he'd probably cry, but even that would be good! Because 1) modeling negative male emotions beside anger, and 2) Oh shit that’s shije’s kid we made Shije’s son cry, fuck, fuck! Bam! Instant high ground! Also he has the most authority of any second gen character by virtue of the fact that he could pull “DO YOU WANT MY MOM TO DIE??? BECAUSE YOU TWO ACTING LIKE MORONS IS WHAT GOT MY MOM KILLED! NOW SIT DOWN AND SPIT OUT ALL YOUR FUCKING SECRETS OR MY MOM WILL DIE AND I’LL BREAK YOUR LEGS!!” It would work! Tell me it wouldn't work!

Not to mention once he gets a few sect leader years under his belt, he might be the best person to manage a fix-it, in general. He's got perspective. He's got political training. Others might get too caught up on the specifics of the Wen remnants or the Ying Tiger Tally or Vengeance against One Person or Another — Jin Ling is critiquing the basic structure of how Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng are living their lives and he's getting away with it.

He would even be good at dealing with Jin Guangyao, the slipperiest motherfucker in the timeline. Jin Ling's got as good a handle as anyone on his motivations, and he has sincere (if messy) affection for him, which would hit Guangyao right in his weak spot. Depending on your headcanons it may or may not be in vain, but he's got a real chance of getting the man to set some more modest and less destructive life goals.

Similarly, I think he'd do a pretty decent job at a harsh-but-fair critique of Xichen's neutrality and Mingue's rigidity and Huissang's delibrate uselessness, though getting them to listen would be more of a crapshoot.

All of this makes it especially funny how badly he would handle Wangxian.

For context: Wei Ying and Hunguang-jun are not just the gayest people Jin Ling has ever met, they are the gayest people he's ever HEARD of.

He wouldn't want to bring it up. He wouldn't mean to. He doesn't want to talk about it. But when he inevitably calls Wei Ying a slur only to be met with genuine bafflement? Jin Ling would completely lose his shit.

Because I don't think Wei Ying is going to get offended, or defensive, or have a response that his nephew could coherently mock. Wei Wuxian thinks 'hey these time traveling guys are actually pretty funny!' Him and Whom? Not even a serious topic of contention. You got me for a second, haha.

Jin Ling would break. Wei Ying eventually says something the effect of "I'm straight? Obviously?" and Jin Ling would nod once, start screaming, then climb across the table to strangle him.

It's — look. How do you fucking explain that all of the worst moments of your life were, in someway or another, characterized by Wei Wuxian and Lan Wanjii being FLAMBOYANTLY into one another.

The man who saved his life also killed his father and Jin Ling stabs him but it feels awful and — ok Lan Wanjii is cradling Wei Wuxian tenderly. Ok they're just going to go. They're leaving like that. Hunguang Jun was — is — was the Yiling Patriarch's widow, so that's another layer to add onto everything else. Hunguang-Jun is visibly expressing emotions with his face and voice and Jin Ling is going to go throw up now

Jin Ling's kidnapped at the burial mounds and everyone’s lost their spiritual energy and all his friends and family are going to die and — those two are smiling at eachother. They're telling inside jokes. They're holding hands.

Jin disciples (his own clans disciples) just shot at him and and Xiao-shushu really is what people sa— WEI YING SHOUTS ABOUT WANTING TO FUCK LAN WANJII

THEY ARE IN THE MIDDLE OF BEING KIDNAPPED AND HE DOES THIS

Jujiu is bleeding from the stomach and crying he's bleeding and crying his jujiu is doing that and Xiao-shushu caused it and his whole life is a lie and Hunguang Jun and the Yiling Patriarch are visibly groping in a corner.

And then they never stop groping again. Forever.

So yeah, I'm quite confident that if Jin Ling had to be even peripherally involved with coaching Wei Wuxian through a bisexual awakening and homoerotic courtship, he would explode. He would black out with rage. He'd make an honest and embarrassingly unsuccessful attempt at killing Lan Zhan. He would walk into a lotus pond and stay there until he drowned. He'd start heavy drinking. He'd punch a random passerby in the dick.

In conclusion, Need More Jin Ling Time Travel Fics

[dollielliot]

˳ ･ׅ ⠀⠀ . ﾟ* 𑙕 ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ׁ𐄙transcripts from police calls about columbine

F.B.I. report excerpt about the Library 911 call:

"On April 20, 1999, Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold shot and killed twelve students and one teacher at Columbine High School Littleton, Colorado. During the incident, teacher Patty Nielson placed a call to 911 Emergency. Neilson was in the library when she placed the call. The 911 operator answered the call stating "911" at 11:27:47 a.m. The phone call lasted 26 minutes. During the call, noises including gunshots, explosions, screaming, and yelling can be heard. The initial backround noises heard come from the hallway just outside of the library. Four minutes and ten seconds into the call, Harris and Klebold entered the Library and begin shooting. They left the Library eleven minutes and forty-five minutes into the call. The remaining gunshots and explosions heard on the tape occur in the Cafeteria, Science classroom area or the hallways of the school."

Eric - "Get up!"

Dylan - "GET UP!"

Eric - "Stand up right now or we'll blow your fucking heads off!"

Dylan - "Fine I'll start shooting then..." (shoots Velasquez) "Woohoo!"

Dylan - "All jocks stand up... white baseball cap"

Eric - "Pigs are here..." (begins firing out the window)

Dylan - (shoots Hall, Ireland, Steepleton) "Yahoo!" 

Patti Nielson - "our father.. who art in heaven... hallowed be thy name" Dispatcher - "ma'am, you need to forget about praying right now. What's happening there?"

Nielson - "They're in here... they're killing kids... I have to go." (drops phone)

Eric - (kills Curnow) "Die! Motherfucker!"

Dylan - "WOO!"

Kasey Ruegsegger - (after being shot by Eric) "Oh!"

Eric - "Stop your bitching! It's merely a flesh wound."

Dylan - (laughing hysterically)

Eric - "peek-a-boo" (kills Bernall)

Dylan - (shoots Ireland) "Die! …..down on the floor!"

Dylan - "REB?"

Eric - "Yeah?"

Dylan - "hey, man... there's a [ n word w/ the hard r] over here."

Eric - "shoot him."

Dylan - "SHIT YEAH!"

Shoels - "no…no…no.mom!"

(shoels and kechter killed)

(C02 bomb detonates)

Valeen Schnurr - "oh my god... help me..."

Eric - "do you believe in god?"

Valeen - "no. yes..."

Dylan - "Why?"

Eric - "God is gay."

John Tomlin - "Don't... done enough?"

(shots fired)

Dylan - "You think we've done enough?" (laughing)

Eric - "nice glasses" (shots fired... sounds of a scuffle.. shots fired again, Mauser killed)

Dylan - "was he trying to jump you?"

Eric - "yeah"

(shots fired... DePooter killed)

Dylan - "Look what we have here..."

Eric - "What?"

Dylan - "just some fat fuck"

Dylan - "give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you."

Evan Todd - "I don't want to get into trouble."

Dylan - "Trouble! You don't know what trouble is..."

Evan Todd - "That's not what I mean... I don't have a problem with you guys..." 

Dylan - "I'm going to let this fat fuck live... little fat fucking piece of shit... you can have him if you want." 

Eric - "Let's go to the commons"

Dylan - "One more thing" (sound of something smashing)

Dylan - "Reb, ya ready?"

Dispatcher - "Columbine Senior High School. There's been a shooting. There's a female in the south parking lot. OK, I'm sorry, can you tell me where she is?"

Student - "She's in the south parking lot on the lower parking lot."

Dispatcher - "She's in the parking lot, the lower one?"

Student - "Right, toward the east end of that parking lot .... I just saw everyone running. I just saw the smoke."

Dispatcher - "OK. We had a report of explosions down there. Is there a car fire or anything?

Student - "People are saying there's a gun."

Dispatcher - "Do you know if anyone was carrying a weapon out there?"

Student - "No, I do not. There's like smoke going off in the parking lot right now. There are loud noises. I'm not sure exactly. A cop is pulling up."

Dispatcher - "Can you direct them?"

Student - "No, but they're going in the right direction. People are running out of the school like mad right now."

Dispatcher - "Where is the female ... is she still in that south parking lot?"

Student - "I can't see her anymore. I ran to the phone."

Dispatcher - "Can you see anything else?"

Student - "A lot of people are at the front of the parking lot and they're running out."

Dispatcher - "When the kids came out of the school, which direction were they going?"

Student - "They went down towards the street."

Dispatcher - "What part is this? Is it like the gym area, the cafeteria or just classrooms?"

Student - "They're coming from like the commons, the lunch area right now."

Dispatcher - "The commons area? 

Student: Everyone's running and I'm still standing here."

Dispatcher - "You're out of the way of danger, aren't you?"

Student - "I believe so, I don't know." 

Dispatcher - "Do you mind if I keep you on the phone here so you can tell me if anything else is going on there?"

Student - "I think the fire alarm is going off right now. Yeah, the fire alarm is going off."

Dispatcher -  "...Shots fired at Columbine High School, 6201 South Pierce, possibly the south lower lots toward the east end. One female is down"

[unintelligible]

Dispatcher - "71"

Deputy Neil Gardner - "Shots in the building. I need somebody in the south lot with me."

Dispatcher - "MC-2's in the area."

Dispatcher - "140 enroute. 11:26" (dispatcher gives time of broadcast). 

[unintelligible field radio with siren in background]

Dispatcher - [unintelligible] "11:26"

[unintelligible, officers acknowledging their response]

Deputy Neil Gardner - "Several shots. Code 33."

Dispatcher - "71. Several shots fired. Columbine High School. Use caution...."

[unintelligible]

Dispatcher - [unintelligible] "You were covered."

[unintelligible field unit]

Dispatcher - "Copy. Attention. All units, there's a code three on this channel. For the officers at Columbine High. Take your traffic to channel two...."

[unintelligible field unit]

Dispatcher - [unintelligible] "11:27"

Officer - "41"

Dispatcher - "41"

Officer - "Yeah, the alarm's OK. Enroute down to Columbine."

Dispatcher - "11:27"

[unintelligible]

Dispatcher - "71 requested assistance at the south lower lot."

Officer - "At the lot?"

Dispatcher - [unintelligible] "at the lot. That's where we had the female down.... [unintelligible] 127 [unintelligible]"

Officer - "OK ... We've got the pupils leaving the grounds."

Dispatcher - [unintelligible] "I have report of possible grenades in the school."

Officer: "147"

Dispatcher: "147"

Officer: [unintelligible] "teacher thinks somebody is in the school with a gun."

Dispatcher - "Report units of possible parties inside the school with weapons. Also we have reports from outside the school that possibly grenades are being thrown from the roof of the school."

Officer - "27. I'm set up on Pierce at the, uh, south side lot."

Dispatcher - Pierce south side of the lot.... [unintelligible]

Officer - "44. I'll be set up on the west side of the back of the school, by the ball field."

Officer - "MC-2. I've got the west side by the ball field. Supposedly they're in black trench coats."

Dispatcher - "MC-2. West side by the ball fields, parties in trench coats, possibly has a shotgun."

Officer - [unintelligible] "copy."

Officer - [unintelligible]

Dispatcher - "Last unit"

Deputy Neil Gardner - "71"

[tojiscumdumpster]

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။ toji fushiguro x his favorite customer (revision)

✧ summary toji has a little soft spot for his favorite customer that he can't get enough of.

✧ content warnings reader is a black woman who uses she/her pronouns. chubby!reader and inexperienced!reader. rich girl in her midtwenties, very needy! usage of profanity, standing missionary, oral - m!receiving, doggy style, mixture of praise and degradation kink, breeding kink, unprotected, creampie and squirting, terms of endearment ─ pretty girl, princess, baby, baby girl, etc. softdom!toji with rough, passionate, and filthy intercourse. told in first POV ─ toji's. i got reader calling toji TJ, and i think that’s so cute pls.

✧ author's note happy birthday to my baby daddy toji fushiguro! we've been going strong now for years. just a little something something to celebrate him. this fic has been in the drafts since December. talk about black people time, old sksk. also, if you already seen the original of this fic on tumblr, it's mine lol. this is just a revision, so don't go around saying i copied someone! my writing has changed so i wanted to redo this and add some adjustments. i hope y'all enjoy. support me by reblogging, liking, and commenting your thoughts. ♡ AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS AND/OR MINORS - DO NOT INTERACT.

 

 When it comes to women I fuck, I treat them the same because at the end of the day, they pay me good money to stuff their pussy with cock. 

 Don’t really care if they're married either. I usually get the old, desperate broads that aren’t getting any attention from their husbands at home, so it’s my job to make them feel good for the night. 

 I don’t do favorites. 

 I damn sure don’t give discounts. 

 And I definitely don’t get attached. But the moment I met Y/N that all changed. 

 My favorite customer. 

 Never did I expect a younger woman to pay me to get fucked, especially when she looks that good. 

 I’m almost positive she has a line filled with fuckers that’s desperately wanting to know what this tight, wet pussy feels like, yet here I am, living their fantasy. 

 I fucked Y/N once. 

 Then, twice. 

 Then, again.

 And again.

 And again…

 If I didn’t know any better, I’m fucking obsessed with her. Can’t even say it’s just for the money she’s paying me. Probably the best pussy I ever had.

 No. 

 It is. 

 So fucking warm, and she takes dick well, too. I usually give only an hour or two to my customers, but for Y/N? I reserved the whole night to relish her pussy. 

 The perfect fuck to end my day. 

 Those soft, sweet-sounding moans that slipped through her full brown and pink lips, having my previous cum shot staining them had me running wild. 

 But it seems like I’m not the only one who’s sex drunk. 

 Cock is all on Y/N’s mind right now. Whimpering and crying how big I am and thanking me for giving her dick. Tears pricks those chestnut-colored hues and I’m in fucking awe. She’s so damn pretty. 

 “You know how gorgeous you look taking cock like this? Being a good fucking slut for me, princess?” I ask, being met with a nod and her moaning in response. 

 Y/N’s pussy talks to me. Wet noises spreading throughout the room while I have my arms hooked under the fold of her knees, fucking her recklessly to push past any intrusion. 

 She’s jumping with me every thrust I make, causing her tits to bounce obnoxiously. I take one of her nipples into my mouth and suck on them like it’s my last dying breath, hearing that sweet whimper. 

 I belong in Y/N’s pussy, and she belongs to me, too, the way she’s gripping my cock and milking me. All of her cream and wetness drips between us and down my balls, and it feels fucking amazing. Every time I experience her velvet walls, I find myself becoming more animalistic, hungry and territorial over someone who should only be seen as a client. 

 But fuck, something in me says I would go batshit crazy if I ever found out she had other motherfuckers experiencing this. 

 Knowing how she looks when sweat coats her beautiful brown skin. How it feels to stretch her out and make her adjust to you. Just thinking about it makes me pound into her deeper and more aggressively. 

 “Toji, baby, yes. This feels so good,” she purrs. “Like that. Keep fucking me like that.”

 I hum. “Yeah? This is what you wanted, right? Paid me to please this good pussy?”

 By all means, Y/N isn’t a virgin, but she told me she doesn’t have much experience and I can tell by how tight she is. 

 Our sounds of pleasure resonate in the air, and I call her my good girl, praising how perfect her pussy is, to be met with her squeezing me and watery brown eyes. 

 “Toji… Toji… Yes. God, yes.”

 “Keep using your words, pretty girl. Tell me how much you love my dick in your pussy,” I ordered softly.

 “I love it so much. It’s so big, baby,” she tells me, slurring her words because of her lips still being on mine. “You’re going to make me cum.”

 I clicked my tongue, shaking my head. “Not yet. Come taste yourself.”

 Without hesitation, Y/N slides down to her knees and starts sucking my dick. I hiss at her swallowing me and the warmth of her mouth. She doesn’t take her time when sucking me off, immediately circling her head and throating me. 

 “Hot fucking mouth made to suck dick, huh, pretty girl?” I firmly grabbed her chin so she could look at me. “Eyes up, sweetheart. Open up your throat for me like a good girl.” 

 Y/N hollows her cheeks and bobs her head fervently on my dick, tightening her lips around me. 

 She sucks dick so fucking good, better than any other woman I’ve been with. And I just know I’m bound to bust quickly if she keeps doing this shit. 

 My hand finds the back of Y/N’s head to grip and I buck my hips deeper into her mouth, ensuring I hit the back of her throat everytime. I’m a fucking mad man when I begin fucking the gorgeous face, especially when she’s looking up at me with those big brown eyes. 

 A spoiled brat, prim and shy, who’s spending daddy’s money to get fucked and folded by an old bastard like me. Think I fucking developed a kink for this type because of Y/N.

 I pumped into her mouth more aggressively until she began choking and gagging on my cock. Drool and precum coating her mouth in the process. 

 Any type of control Y/N tries to take, I push past it because I want to use that pretty little mouth of hers how I want. She needs to get her money’s worth when fucking with me. 

 “Going to fuck my cum deep down that throat of yours, and you’re going to swallow it. Got that?” She nods and I softly tap the side of her face. “That’s it. Keep those lips tight around me.” 

 “Toji, pl—please,” she slurs, causing me to chuckle. 

 “Hm, look at you. Trying so hard to talk to me while sucking my dick. It’s cute.” I slow down my quick thrusts, but replace them with more fervent ones, pushing me and her head down until my cock outlines her throat. 

 My balls grow heavy and obnoxiously slaps Y/N’s chin, a clear indication I’m about to fucking cum. 

 Grunting, whining, gasping like a little bitch for air because head like this has a fucker like me sounding like a broken mess. 

 Blood rushes to my groin and I start getting sloppy, feeling my muscles tightening and ache burning between my thighs. I’m close, so fucking close to filling her mouth with my release, then I can finish fucking that fat pussy. 

 Everything about this damn woman is perfect. Her pussy. How she sucks cock. That fucking chubby and curvy body of hers. A pretty face with loaded cash.

 Yeah, she’s definitely mine after tonight. And I’m talking about anything lovey dovey. Meaning if I catch her being a slut like this to anyone else, I’d kill that fucker. 

 No hesitation. I-

 “Y/N, fuck!” I grunt while cumming in her mouth. This load is fucking heavy, but she’s trying her best to swallow every drop. 

 I groan at the sight of Y/N touching her tits and palming her pussy, knowing how much she’s turned on, too. It’s like the vibrations of her moans pulls more cum out my fucking dick.

 A mess I made on her face, but the joyful lust I see in her eyes tells me she doesn’t give a damn. 

 Good, because I’m not finished with her. 

 “All fours on the bed. Now,” I demanded. “Still gotta fill up your pussy.”

 Perfection is what I think when I see Y/N from behind, arched back, ass in the air and pussy dripping, ready for me to fuck. 

 I force an arch in her back and plunge my cock in her tight little pussy with one deep stroke. Y/N gasps in the air and I take the opportunity to pull her up by the throat and start pounding her cunt. 

 Why the fuck is she so goddamn wet? She takes cock well, bud shit, I abruptly slip out each and every thrust. 

 “Keep me inside that pussy, baby girl. Stop fucking letting go,” I gritted in her ear. She reaches behind her to hold my dick and push back into me with a tighter grip. “Hm, just like that. So fucking good to me, aren’t you?”

 “I need more dick, TJ. Fuck me harder, baby. I can take you,” she moans. 

 Begging for cock she’s already paying for… Shit, I get a kick out of how pathetically sexy she sounds. 

 I repeatedly slammed into her wet cunt, thrust after thrust, pussy creaming even further than before. If it’s one thing I can listen to for the rest of my life, it’s how Y/N sounds when she’s being fucked. 

 My name drips perfectly from her lips.

 Our skin smacking fills the air in the room along my hand striking her ass until I guarantee it’ll bruise in the morning. 

 “Look at this fat ass moving when I pound into this pussy. Fucking beautiful,” I growled.

 “Toji, please. I… I don’t care how much… I’ll pay more. Just keep fucking me like this.”

 I chuckle. “Atta girl.”

 I see why motherfuckers catch feelings when fucking pussy. I almost feel tempted to tell Y/N that I love her while fucking her. She has pussy that’ll make a fucker crazy… Possessive… Jealous.

 I applied more pressure to Y/N’s throat and pulled her against my chest. “You know who this pussy belongs to. Right, princess?”

 “God, yes, Toji. You… it belongs to you.” Her voice comes off as a faint cry and I know she’s on the verge of cumming. Especially with how her pussy is pulsating around me. 

 “Mhm, that’s right. Dreamed of my fucking dick pounding this tight little cunt, now I have you mindfucked. Huh?” I pinch her nipples with my free hand and increase my thrusts. “You’re about to come for me. Aren’t you, Y/N? I know you are. I can feel it. You should see the mess your slutty pussy is making between us.”

 “Fuck, I didn’t mean to, baby. It’s just… you feel good. So fucking good,” she whimpers, bouncing her ass back into me to meet with my thrusts. 

 “Maybe I should have you clean it with your mouth. Hm?”

 I release Y/N’s throat to shove her face into the bed and deepen her arch more than before. My single hand returns to her hips to grip, pulling her round ass back on my cock to kiss her center. 

 Can’t get over how wet—how tight and warm this fucking pussy is. The harder I fuck her, the louder her pussy gets and I grunt, curse underneath my breath at hearing the sound of her muffled moans. 

 I don’t give a fuck if one of us catches feelings after this. Actually, I want her to. I want Y/N to be dick hungry only for me. 

 I want her pussy to smell like I’m the only fucker that’s been running through her. I’m even fucking tempted to breed this pussy just so she’s mine.

 Why the fuck would I want to have sex with any other women after knowing what Y/N feels like? 

 “You take cock like a fucking pro. Look at you gripping me. Look at how this pussy is mine.”

 She spreads her ass cheeks to feel every inch of my dick. “Fuck me, Toji. Harder. Fuck me harder, I’m about to cum.”

 “Shit, me too, sweetheart. Such a perfect fuck toy. Going to fill you all the way up,” I rasped. “Fuck me back. Keep taking this dick.”

 My thrusts are sloppy. I throw my head back and swear into the air and moan her name. My balls grow heavier and heavier until I fucking but and empty my cum inside her pussy. 

 And she’s right there with me, crying my name and thanking me for giving her toe-curling orgasm. 

 Fucking enjoy hearing my pretty girl thank me for giving her cock. She just looks so damn pretty when she cums, too. 

 Dark brown skin sweating. The sight of her ruined makeup with mascara running down her cheeks. Moans sounding like a broken record. 

 Yeah, she’s a perfect fuck. 

 My favorite customer. 

© 2024 tojiscumdumpster Do NOT copy, translate, plagiarize, repost (sharing links is okay) anywhere. I only upload on tumblr and you will find some of my work in ao3.

[disgustingtwitches]

"I like a tall woman with a nice big ass."

König x tall+curvy!reader. Love the idea of this uptight motherfucker getting with someone who is young and wild :)

MDNI

König is dragged out to a trendy club by his subordinates and he's awkwardly folded up in a seat in the corner of the club. The flashing lights and loud music give him a headache so he steps out into the smoking area. There you are with your girlfriends, yelling something about a 'hot girl summer' and pouring tequila into each other's mouths.

He can't really ignore your group; young, foreign, and rambunctious. He can't really ignore your long legs that lead to full hips that move side to side. He can't really ignore your pierced nipples or rounded breasts that almost bust out of your tight white crop top while you jump around. He can't really ignore how soft you look. He has to look away so all the blood in his body doesn't rush to his dick.

One of his subordinates walk up to him, concerningly drunk, talking about some bullshit he doesn't care about. He ushers him back to the group before ordering them to back to base. The group complains but complies. They don't even ask why he's staying behind.

He goes off to look for you. You aren't hard too find, taller than the gaggle of women that surround you. He just stares at you from far away. You stop mid conversation with your girlfriends, the hair on the back of your neck standing up. You look around and see him staring: a clear view of each other over the tops of everyone's heads.

As unsettling as his stare is, you were used to it by now. That's apparently how Germans are? You excused yourself from your group and walked over to him. Even in your heels he was taller than you. Something you weren't used to.

"Evening."

You put your hand out. He takes it, his hands are rough and his grip strong.

"Abend."

He replies dryly. There's an awkward silence. What a charmer, this one. It didn't really matter though, he was hot. He was still holding your hand... it was getting sweaty. You pull away and wipe your hand on your skirt.

"So, uhm... Nice weather."

You try to wrangle a conversation out of him.

"Yes, it is... agreeable."

You want to laugh. He was kind of pathetic. It made him hotter somehow. You convince him to take a shot with you, hoping to losen him up. You manage a few more words out of him; his age and "name". Or whatever he preferred to be called. Your girlfriends find and encircle the both of you. He immediately tenses up while they bombard the two of you with questions. You shoo them and they giggle walking off.

The rest of the night is filled with the same failed attempts at conversation. At this point it's just niceties, you're gonna sleep with him whether he talks or not. He knows that. You shoot a text to your girlfriends and share your location while he whisks you away to his place.

As soon as the door to his place closes, he pins you against the wall, grabs your neck, and plants deep kisses on your lips. It takes you back a little, expecting him to be a little more shy. But you're not complaining. You start tearing each other's shirts off, he audibly moans when your top comes off. He twirls his tongue around one pierced nipple, brushing a thumb over the other one diligently.

"So fucking beautiful, fits in my hand perfectly."

His wet mouth leaves a trail of sloppy kisses up your neck.

"Can you keep the heels on?"

He asks while unbuckling his pants. You oblige. He places a hand on your back and guides you to place your hands on a table in the hallway, making you face a mirror. You watch his face through the reflection as he lifts your skirt up, his eyes go wide. So soft and full. He's practically drooling, mumbling something about finally being able to stand and fuck someone properly for once. He pulls your panties to the side and flashes a goofy smile while rubbing himself between your slick folds. You'd laugh if you weren't absolutely horrified at how big he felt pressed up against your entrance. He looks up half-lidded,

"Fucking perfect for me, hm?"

Your knees almost buckled at his words. God, he's fucking hot. He teasingly slides his fat tip in and out of you until you beg for more, groans as he slides himself inside you. You clench around him as he gets deeper and deeper. Jesus, how much dick can one man have? He holds your hips and rocks back and forth slowly. Soft love taps to your cervix each time your hips touch his.

"Look."

He says while reaching to wrap a gentle hand around your neck to pull you back against his chest.

"See how good we look together, hm?"

You moan his name as he starts to pound into you. He's entranced with the way your soft ass bounces on his dick. He looks up into your eyes through the mirror while teasing your nipples.

"You take it better than anyone I've ever fucked before."

He kisses and nips your neck before he reaches down to grab both cheeks, spreading you out to get a better view of himself slipping in and out of you. The sight makes his dick jump inside you, which is an overwhelmingly delicious feeling. He leans over and snakes his hands around to the front of your thighs and squeezes them before sliding up between them, playing with your sensitive clit. He gets too rough with you. He thinks you can handle more since you're thicker and taller than most women he's been with. You can't. His dick is a battering ram. Your knees buckle.

"Come on mein Schatz, you can take it. Say you can take it."

How could you deny him? His voice is so soft and darling compared to the roughness of his actions. He grips your curvy hips and pulls them back onto his hips, hard. He fills you to the brim as you yelp. He didn't have a way to describe the way you made him feel. It was a nice change of pace from having to treat women like a piece of porcelain. He could rough you up a bit and you took it like a champ. He didn't have to bend in a way that made his back hurt the next morning. This was refreshing. He couldn't get enough. It went on for hours and hours.

"Made just for me."

He'd repeat into your ear every time you'd spasm around him. He folded you up and pounded into you until you couldn't see straight. He'd fondle every curve on your body, praising how nicely it bounced every time he strokes into you. You were supposed to fly out to England with your girlfriends the next day. Instead, he bought you a ticket to catch a flight after the weekend was over.

[theprettynosferatu]

CW: Non-consensual, Intox (aphrodisiac), Mind breaking.

Two years. Two fucking years of work down the drain. The worst two years of her life, working towards a goal she knows she’ll never see, and all because someone up the chain of command got bribed or threatened or who knows what else. What matters is someone fucking sold her out and now she’s bound up, staring at the gang of absolute sadistic freaks she has pushed herself so hard to infiltrate. 

Shit, the things she has done to be accepted as one of them! Well, “one of them” is stretching it. More like a trusted groupie, she figures. The amount of “slutty, fiery latina” acting she has been forced to do almost makes her throw up. It’s a stereotype and a racist one at that but damn it if these dumb motherfuckers raised by porn didn’t appreciate it, in a sick way. And all of it for a goddamn rumor.

They have this new shit, this kinda spray thing, makes any girl wanna fuck you like crazy… True Love, they call it.

Yeah, right. But still, the chance that such a drug could exist and flow through the streets, paired with some rather bizarre incidents of victims fighting to remain by their captor’s side… it was enough to try and get someone on the inside. And she’s ambitious, young, and most importantly, with the proper… attributes to play the gang-doll. Even now she almost wants to chuckle at the memory of the chief trying to explain that part, fighting so hard not to mention her ass. She’s not dumb. Wasn’t then, isn’t now. Without what she, modesty aside, considers the most spectacular ass in the city, the gang would have never even taken a second look at her. And she wouldn’t be here, now, tied up. 

Fuck. She realizes her mind is rambling, going on tangents, trying to escape the simple reality of the situation. She can’t move, and seven men are looking at her like she’s dessert, discussing exactly what to do to her. 

“Maybe we should use it, you know” one says.

She thinks she’s “it”, for a moment. She realizes she’s wrong as Karl, who has more muscles than brain cells and yet for some reason always calls the shots, removes one of the floorboards. Fuck! She has been in this warehouse dozens of times, looked everyone for evidence of the supposed magic drug, and has always come up snake-eyes. And it’s right fucking there, under the goddamn floor. What the fuck is it, the 1950’s? She’s tried every phone, installed keyloggers on laptops, learned every password- in her head, there had to be some clever operation at work, some devious method to keep such a huge deal secret. Nope. It’s under the fucking floor. She wants to tell them to untie her, just so she can kick her own ass. 

They laugh as they get naked, and a wave of shame crashes over her. She realizes she has seen all of these bodies before, and it makes her sick to her stomach. Sure, men get talkative when bragging and trying to get someone into bed. And men lower their guards after they bust a load- that is, if they don’t just roll over and fall asleep instantly. She has used that, over and over, to get information, to get chances to snoop.

Did she have to, though? That question has haunted her, and now it seems to grow solid, like a rock in her chest. Did she truly have to play up all those stereotypes to become some fucked up fantasy of whatever a hot latina is supposed to be? Did she have to buy all those booty shorts, those cheap jewels, those slutty heels? 

And didn’t a part of her enjoy the attention?

Fuck. Chances are she’ll die here, and she doesn’t want to die a delusional bitch. Yes, fine, being the center of attention felt nice. But the sex? No. That was awful. Pretending to be attracted to these meatheads, doing anything they wanted just so her reputation as a grade-A piece of ass would spread, faking orgasms…

Bull and shit. You’re dying here, Mariana. Stop lying to yourself. You didn’t fake all of them.

She’s yanked away from her little spiral of shame by the loud hiss of spray being applied. They’re passing a little can around, coating their cocks with… 

No. It can’t be real. It just can’t. There is no magic spray. It can’t possibly work. Sure, these idiots might think it does, but in reality, no, True Love isn’t a thing.

The images flow into one another like photographs. She knows, rationally, what is happening. A knife is cutting her bindings as two sets of hands are holding her arms. Her shorts are being sliced, ripped off her. Her legs are being held wide open for Meathead Karl. She files these things in her mind, and feels nothing. She’s there, but she’s not really there. Ah, yes. Dissociation as a defense mechanism for trauma. Mariana has read about it, and now feels mildly fascinated by the experience. 

The pain drags her back to reality. Her instincts kick in, and she braces for the suffering that is to come after that initial opening salvo. She grits her teeth, and…

The pain doesn’t come. She hears laughter as her eyes grow wide, a horrible realization dawning on her. The feeling between her legs is a warm thing, a pleasant thing, slithering up her body, unlike anything she has ever felt before. 

“Starting to hit you, Officer? Oh, this is just beginning”, someone says, his voice coming to her as if from a million miles away. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. It’s real. Fucking True Love is real. Her mind reels, the interviews with previous victims rushing in her memories. The way they spoke about their abusers as if they were Gods. The way they defended them. The way they longed for them, like junkies going into withdrawal. She can’t become like them. She can’t lose herself like that. She can’t…

She can’t focus. Her mind is getting fuzzy as the delicious sensation reaches her nipples. Every inch of her skin feels sensitive, overwhelming. A pussy. My whole body is one giant pussy. She has no idea where the thought comes from, but it grows inside her as she squirms and little moans escape her lips. No. Don’t give them the satisfaction. Don’t moan. Don’t move.

“Oh, now you’re getting it. Don’t worry. It will get much, much worse”

Whose voice speaks? She can’t tell. She finds it harder and harder to care. Suddenly, her body betrays her as her hips start moving on their own, seeking pleasure, trying to coax the cock inside her deeper…

She feels on fire. She hates herself, hates how good every thrust feels, how much she needs more and more and more. Thoughts flood her, like a strange invasion taking over her mind. Cock. Cock feels good. Cock feels so fucking good. This is good. This is perfect. This is exactly what I should do. This is all I want. This is all I have ever wanted. Her mission starts to fade away. She can barely recall why she ended up being fucked like a good girl by this marvelous cock, and it feels so unimportant, so insignificant. Only the pleasure matters. She needs more. Her eyes cast around her. Cocks. Big, hard cocks, stiff for her. She starts drooling. The men laugh. She doesn’t care. There are hard cocks near her. Why aren’t they using her?

No. Snap back, Mariana. This isn’t you.

Why not?

Isn’t this better than whatever she was before?

One of the men lowered his body, his cock inches away from her face. She needs to taste it. She needs to wrap her tongue around it. She needs to worship it, body and soul.

“Oh, poor slut wants it?”

She’s not sure she understands the words. But she does understand, with a frenzied animal cunning, the desire behind them. They want her to beg. Some distant remain of sanity is pleading with her not to give in, not to surrender her voice, to keep some small part of her true self. It screams in vain.

“Please… give… cock…” she manages to mumble between moans.

“No. Not yet. You see, officer, your mind might be going, but your body is learning very fast. It’s so open now… And we intend to keep you around for a long time. No quick sell for you. So we need to… train you a bit”

Mariana knows the man is talking. The words don’t reach her until he starts playing with her nipples, and a single word takes over her entire existence.

“Cum”

She shakes. She screams. Her entire body is reduced to a single, shining sensation of absolute pleasure. She can feel something inside her breaking, giving in. She pants and a part of her expects the sensations to subside, but they don’t. If anything, the constant pleasure grows, leaving her right at the gates of another orgasm. She tries to grind, to move, to use the cock inside her to cum again…

“Not without permission, toy”, someone says. She almost manages to squeak out a complaint, but the stimulus is too strong. All she can do is squeal and moan.

The world swirls around her, colors heightened, bleeding into each other. She never wants to go back to the gray, solid, difficult past. She wants to stay here, be this- be pleasure.

“Cum”

Yes. She cums, and nothing else matters. This is all she needs. All she exists for. Her eyes are unfocused, her mouth hanging open. She feels the cock touch her lips before she even consciously sees it. The imperative is immediate. Suck. Lick. Take it deep in your throat. Use your tongue, pressure with your lips, the vibrations of your moaning. Use everything you are to please cock. 

“Cum”

Every time it gets stronger, going beyond whatever she ever thought possible. No mind can hope to withstand such a tidal wave of pleasure. As soon as she realizes they’re starting to move her, she hops up. The men don’t have to tell her what they want from her. She wants the same thing. She’s just holes. Holes need to be filled with cock. She impales herself on Karl’s dick and leans forward, letting him suck on her sensitive nipples, leaving her asshole ready, eager. She’s presenting herself like an animal in heat, and she’s loving every second of it. She’ll do anything to keep feeling like this, forever.

“Ass…” she manages to say.

“Not good enough, cunt. Come on, you can use your words better than that”

Words. Words for cock. Words to make cock happy. They own her words. They own her mind. They own her body.

“Please… use my ass… fuck my tight little hole… ram it hard! Wreck it! I need it so bad, need it so bad, need you to take me, take my ass, make me cum, never let me go, please please please…”

Even the pain feels good. Everything feels good. Humiliation feels good. Their mockery feels good. Their spit on her skin feels good. Obeying feels good.

One cock in her ass, using it with no care for her or any pain it might cause. One in her wet cunt, driving her mad. One in her mouth, using her like a breathing fleshlight. One in each hand, the promise of cum to come. This is it. This is bliss. This is heaven. This is all any woman could ever desire. This is home. 

“Such a good fucktoy…”, one mutters, trying to hold back his own orgasm.

The word infects her. Fucktoy. It starts overwriting everything inside her. Fucktoy. Her police training crumbles in her memory. Fucktoy. Her memories of her family fade away, forever. Fucktoy. Her hatred for cruel men vanishes. Fucktoy. Fucktoy. Fucktoy. It is all she is. All she has ever been. All she ever wanted to be. She’s mumbling it in between taking cock in her mouth. It rises like a gigantic obelisk in her mind, ruling over her, conquering all.

Fucktoy.

“Cum. Cum. Cum.”

Wave after wave of pleasure overtake her, crashing into each other, blasting away all that was and all that could ever be.

By the time she gets back something resembling consciousness, warm cum is coating her skin. She can feel the wonderful jizz inside her holes, taste it on her tongue still. She must have swallowed it. Like a good fucktoy. She feels so proud, so valuable, so beautiful. She made cocks cum. She was good. She was useful.

“Officer, remind me… what were you looking for?”

She looks at the man like a confused puppy.

“Cock?”

“I see. And what’s your name?”

She straightens up, full of pride. This one she knows.

“Fucktoy!”, she smiles.

Did you enjoy this story? You can support my work and get access to the full library at patreon.com/prettynosferatu

[woozapooza]

Exactly 💯

[lost-romantique]

The Way He Lit up His Life- Baby Stolitz Circus Edition (Part 1)

I love the way Blitz manages to light up Stolas' life, even when he never meant too.

Stolas starts off his birthday fucking elated. Of course he would, IT’S HIS MOTHERFUCKING BIRTHDAY!

"You will be entrusted with the study of the Earth's skies, the stars, the prophecies they hold, all that stuff. Isn't that fun!"

Stolas is given his life's mission as a Goetia, and he couldn't be happier!

This is best birthday ever! Absolutely what can go wrong!?

WHAT DO YOU MEAN I'M BEING FORCED IN AN ARRANGED MARRIAGE WITH A PSYCHO!

Stolas is forced into an arranged marriage with Stella, and he's devastated. He begins to cry.

His father who is so good at daddying, mind you, suggests they go to the circus in town.

Stolas does not want to go, he's miserable. His birthday is ruined.

Stolas is at the circus now, he has to have a fun time at the circus... right? RIGHT?

Despite all the cool shit that's happening before him, Stolas is miserable. He doesn't even bother looking at the performances.

He even flicks away the peanuts off his grimoire.

This baby birb is fucking miserable.

Absolutely nothing can make this day go better...

Suddenly, he sees HIM.

The boy wonder, the man who will become the poster child for severe self-hatred, BLITZO BUCKZO!!!

But Stolas doesn't see that...

All he sees is a little imp boy with the biggest smile on his face. Stolas is smitten.

Could this be what they call love at first sight? Who knows...

All Stolas knows is that absolutely nothing has caught his attention, OTHER THAN HIM!

The moment Blitz lands on stage, Stolas does a double-take. HE DOES A MOTHERFUCKING DOUBLE TAKE!

Whenever Blitz is on stage is the only time Stolas truly enjoys his time at the circus. All of his focus is on that little imp boy who can't make a fucking horse balloon to save his life.

"Well, heh. It was a horse, but then it ate too much sugar and its legs stopped working, so he had to amputate. Now, it's a gross worm horse."

Blitzo makes a stupid joke no one laughs at, but Stolas... this baby birb finds it fucking hilarious. He's charmed.

Blitzo sees that and he acknowledges his existence, almost instantly. He sees the only boy that would laugh at his stupid joke.

Suddenly Fizz comes in, makes a perfect horse in record time, and everyone laughs at his joke instead. Thereby stealing whatever thunder Blitzo had.

But you know the funny thing... Stolas doesn't laugh at Fizz's joke. Actually he's almost offended that everyone completely ignored Blitzo's joke.

"I liked his broken horse joke, it was funny. Their legs do stop working when they eat too much sugar, it's called laminitis."

Paimon looks at Stolas curiously, giving his son the eye as Stolas proceeds to laugh to himself because Blitzo's joke is that funny!

The scene ends with a closeup shot of a smiling Blitzo.

~~~

I find it adorable just how quickly Stolas' boredom changes the moment he sees Blitz on stage.

Stolas was just given the life changing news that he was going to be forced into an arranged marriage, and he's miserable. He doesn't want to go to the circus. Only for all that change the moment he sees Blitzo.

It's so cute just how smitten he is, how enchanted Stolas gets when he sees Blitzo on stage. How the worse day of his life turned into one of the best all because he sees him.

Please watch out for my future posts as I analyze all the Stolitz scenes in The Circus.

[g3tj1nx3d14]

jayvik headcanons !!

feeding you guys since i’ve been a neglectful poster 😭

SFW and NSFW, NSFW under the warning, spoilers up to act three season two !!! most definitely OOC at some points

SFW

• Jayce and Viktor have developed a secret language of sorts. Random phrases, hand movements, looks, and sounds replace actual sentences when they’re in the lab and super into their work. It’s not intentional, and they can’t even translate what most of it means besides it just… making sense in the moment.

• (I saw this before, I believe on Tik Tok or here but I’m not sure?)Jayce was a chubby ass baby. Actually, a fat ass baby. Ximena takes great joy in showing Viktor baby photos where he just looks squishy. If they argue over text, Jayce thinks he’s hilarious if he texts a baby photos with the caption “this is who you’re arguing with”.

• Jayce is the type to seem like he’s only into mainstream music, but he’s also really the type of guy to A, listen to the songs his mom likes whenever he feels slightly upset, and B, have a random niche band with four hundred followers on Sound Cloud that he’s been obsessed with for years and is convinced will go big. Viktor tends to listen to music without lyrics, typically video game sound tracks or calm beats while he works. I could also, alternatively, see him being very into insanely heavy metal while he carefully works. You could scream bloody murder and you’re not louder than his headphones.

• Viktor tends to be much more socially aware to undertones in conversations than Jayce. While the latter is good at smooth talking politicians due to Mel’s training, he tends to forget that everything they say tends to have a double meaning. Viktor enjoys telling him exactly who was clearly hating him or hitting on him.

• Viktor is a clothing thief. Genuinely so bad. Jayce entered the relationship with fifteen hoodies in his closet and after seven years, he has one on a good day. They’ve become pajamas and Viktor will be genuinely offended if he takes them back.

• Do not watch a movie with these motherfuckers. They’re talkers— at least when they’re at home, Jayce would be mortified to talk in a public movie theatre. But every single time they’re watching a movie in their apartment, they’re pausing it every three minutes to have a ten minute discussion about a random topic, usually vaguely related to the movie.

• Viktor smokes weed. Sure, maybe some would argue that it’s not good for his health, but he’s a Zaunite living amongst the Piltover elite. He needs a joint once in a while (nightly). Jayce enjoys smoking with him sometimes, but he thinks holding it in makes him look cool and ends up coughing his lungs up.

• Trans man Viktor !!! Jayce tried to be helpful and help with his t-shots, but he tends to end up awkwardly looking at the floor while Viktor does it himself and he’s there for emotional support. He doesn’t like needles.

• Viktor can get slightly cold and Jayce immediately tries to bundle him up. He gets extremely freaked out whenever his loved ones get cold due to the lingering trauma of almost losing his mother. Viktor makes sure he turns the heat up in the colder months so Jayce doesn’t spiral, even though he insists it’s solely because of his pain.

•Jayce learned how to massage people properly (read a book and everything) to help with Viktor’s pain. He’s shockingly gentle for someone his size. Viktor finds a lot of comfort in knowing that someone who could easily hurt him is purposely being so, so gentle with him.

okay freaky time

NSFW

• Agreeing with the popular headcanon, Jayce is such a fucking sub. Holy shit. Sure, he does like to top, but he likes to listen, especially with Viktor. He likes getting to drop his responsibilities and working on making sure Viktor feels good and getting praised in response.

• Jayce always thought that he was a vanilla guy, but Viktor called him a good boy once and the praise kink awoke like a damn sleeper agent.

• Viktor has a bad habit of mixing up his lab voice and bedroom voice. It’s not too different, just a bit of a different vibe. It just gets awkward when Viktor means “come here” and pats his desk as in “look at something I’m working on” and not “bend over the desk”.

• Viktor also tends to treat discovering Jayce’s interests like a science experiment. They don’t have a sex tape, they have a sex voice recorder with Viktor recording their adventures in the funniest way possible.

• I genuinely can’t imagine them taking it too seriously. Sure, there’s serious and tense moments, but there’s a lot of silly, soft, intimate moments of them laughing and joking with each other as they make each other feel good.

• In edition to trans guy Viktor, Jayce is an eater. Whenever he tops, he tends to be a service top, and he genuinely enjoys pleasuring Viktor with his mouth. Whenever Viktor’s pain is acting up, Jayce tends to volunteer to “get his mind off of it” by spending literal hours on his knees, lab— many times while Viktor works on lab reports— or bedroom. He gets his head scratched in return.

• The lab is bedroom #2. Tell me these two freaks were alone with each other constantly for seven years in that lab and nothing ever happened in there? Absolutely not.

• Jayce tends to leave a few marks because he likes to bite a bit, but Viktor thinks it’s hilarious to leave obvious ones. Bright hickies, bite marks, stereotypical back scratches, the works. Before their relationship was public, everyone in Piltover was convinced that Jayce was sleeping around, and Viktor found it really, really funny. Seeing Jayce be slut shamed was the highlight of his day.

• Sure, we can all agree that Jayce is a freak, but Viktor is matching, if not surpassing that freak. They’ve tried everything for the sake of science.

• Viktor really enjoys seeing Jayce beg. It’s almost endearing to see a man of such high status on his knees whining.

• Jayce is loud. Like, really loud. Hearing him through the walls is a genuine concern loud. He is physically incapable of shutting up when he feels good.

[quokkaholic]

Locked In🍺 h.j

Warnings: Suggestive fluff, cussing duh, alcohol consumption, kissing and touching(tehe), claustrophobia maybe. Lightly edited

Synopsis: y/n is a student by day and flirty/sassy bartender by night. On a busy night, Han comes in and matches her freak. Han referred to as sexy man before y/n knows his name.  They may or may not get stuck in the fridge. 

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It's going to be a rough night tonight. Even though the dive bar you work at is on the smaller, more local side, you get pretty busy on Thursday nights. Busy enough that you typically have two bartenders, but tonight your literal other half and best friend, Janie, got a call about her boyfriend having a family issue in the middle of her restocking the cooler. You know she doesn’t want to  leave you high and dry, but he needed her, and you aren’t soulless. You tell her to go to him; its already 1am, so you just have 3 more hours till close. It’s not like she hasn’t covered for you on many different occasions. She gives you a tight squeeze before grabbing her stuff and jogging out the door. While you’d like to sit and relish in the feeling of being the greatest friend of all time, you now have so much more shit to do. 

You’re so busy trying to catch up on dishes, you can’t check who walks in when the bell that hangs on the door rings. You shout to the front, that you’ll be right there as you grab the rag that's hanging through one of the belt loops on your jeans. 

As you speed walk to the front, you see the man that just came in is not a regular; you would remember if you had seen him before. He’s fucking stunning, and if you weren’t working, it would take some serious courage to go up and talk to him. Thankfully, you’ve been working on your bartender persona.

“Hey love, what can I get you?” you say to the patron as you lean over the bar to grab some empty bottles nearby.

“Oh hi baby. I uh…” he says as he squints at the torn and marked up beer and liquor list trying to read it under the dim neon lights.

“If you say “surprise me” it’ll be a bud light” you warn as you pour some pints for the couple at the other end of the bar. Sending you a playful glance over the paper, he slowly lowers it.

“Well what do you recommend?” He raises his voice just loud enough for you to hear him as you're running around doing little tasks but not loud enough to disrupt the others. 

“I go for a paloma, personally. Its fresh, and bubbly, and not too sweet, but I'm warning you, the grapefruit soda we keep is pretty sour.”

“That sounds lovely” he gives you a soft smile kinda relieved he didn’t have to make a decision. 

“I gotcha”

You pour some more shots for the group at the pool tables before mixing up the sexy man’s drink and pouring it into a sugar rimmed highball glass. 

“For you, my dear” you say as you hand him the finished drink. He grabs it with both hands allowing his fingers to graze yours; his touch is warm and tender and dreamy, nothing like the usual snatching of other customers. Before you walk away, you pour him a little bowl of snack mix.

“Hey y/n! Why is he getting so much attention” a crotchety old man and regular of yours shouts to you as you make your way to the back. 

“Come on. If you want snacks, use your words and ask next time, asshat” biting back, as you walk right past him. 

You are shuffling around clearing off tables, tabbing people out, and wiping up spills. It takes a minute before you realize sexy man has not made much progress with his drink. Going back to him, you try to figure out the cause,

“How does it taste, babe?” striking up a conversation again. He gives only an innocent and sorry look in response, you can't stop the corner of your mouth from raising to a smirk.

“I swear to god, if you say its too sour”

“I'm sorry miss y/n” he says after sucking a breath through his teeth. 

“You motherfucker” insulting him between laughs.

“I tried to warn you! I can add some simple syrup to it, but I think you’d rather have a beer, it’ll be on me”

Before sexy man can reject your offer, you reach into one of the beer ice chests, but are once again heckled by the wrinkly regular.

“Why does he get special treatment, huh? I’m supposed to be your favorite”

“I don't remember saying that” responding while opening the beer (idk but i feel like if han had to pick a beer found at your average US bar it would be modelo)

“You literally told me last week!” He’s probably right, you’ll say quite a lot to get a bigger tip.

“Well..” muttering as you wipe off the bottle. You lean to sexy man close enough so that when hold your hands up, it blocks both of your faces.

“What's your name, babe?” you whisper after you place the beer in front of him and he whispers his answer back to you.

“Han, is my favorite now. He's cuter, and nicer, and I bet he tips better too.” You and Han snicker together about it for a minute before you have to get back to running the damn bar.

You keep cleaning, and serving drinks, and running tabs; its nearing 2:30am before you can stop and talk to Han again.

“Han my sweet, you want some company?”

“That would be amazing, actually”

“So, what brings you here, at this hour I might add?”

“Honestly, jet lag. I just needed to get out of the hotel room, and I’ve been living the dream ever since. And you?” such a smooth talker, and he keeps eye contact with you the whole time. Not in an intimidating way but in the way where he is genuinely engrossed in your conversation, and it makes your heart pound. 

“I’m a student so working nights works best with my schedule”

“Oh, an educated woman! Sexy”

“Yeah it would be, if I could get a good job with my four year degree, but alas, I make more as a bartender than I did as a lab tech. So, here I am, grad student by day, bartender by night.”

“Sexy and driven” He mumbles against the mouth of his bottle before he tips it back to finish it off. You and Han chat consistently while you take care of the handful of other patrons. You try to get him another beer, but he declines. 

“You ready for the check, HANdsome? Sorry, that wasn’t good.” Its starting to get late in the night, and your charm is starting to wear off.

“No…uhh. What time do you get off?” Han seems to be infected by your shyness.

“Oh um. We close at 4, but i won’t leave until 5 or 5:30”

“Is it cool if I just wait till then? Maybe, I could take you to breakfast? I’m just not tired at all, and I…I’m really…”

“That would be amazing actually. I’d love to. Could I get you a soda at least?”

You and Han chat and get to know each other through the last call, and it's time to kick the last customers out. The grouchy regular is of course the last one out the door.

“Why does your new favorite get to stay?”

“Because I like him more than you. I already told you he's with me! If I hear one more word about this from you, I'll never serve you again. Now get the fuck out” you shout the last part locking the door being them. 

Even though you try to get him to stop, Han helps you with your closing duties, but because you were short staffed tonight and were kind of neglecting some duties to talk to Han, it takes a while. It's a little after 5 by the time you guys are getting ready to walk out the back door. You pull on your coats and grab your purse, and just as you guys are about to open the door it hits you, you didn't restock, Janie was doing that before she had to leave.

“Fuck, will you help me restock the fridge, it’ll take like 8 minutes if we work together.”

“Lead the way”

Han is handing you bottles and crushing boxes as you organize the shelves. You two make a great team and finish the task in record time, but when Han turns to exit he just stands at the door darting his eyes all over looking for a knob. 

“Here, let me”

You scooch around him, and reach up to the shelf where you keep the emergency “key” that opens the door from the inside, but it's not there. You feel around and nothing. You look around on all the surfaces, and it's nowhere to be seen. While walking past the fridge door, you see it out the corner of your eye, but to your dismay, you saw it out the window of the fridge door on the counter right outside. You slowly turn back to Han.

“Heeeeey. Bad news. We’re locked in”

“What?” Han's jaw might as well be on the floor.

“Yeah so there's the key” pointing out the window. Han indirectly squishes you against the door and places his cheek on yours in order to see what you see.

“Fuck” he breathes out. 

“That's what I’m saying. We’ve got options, we left our phones by the door so we can’t call for help, but we could 1) cause hundreds of dollars in damage and break out and I probably lose my job or 2), which I am leaning towards, another bartender will be here at like 7 for opening stuff and we just chill here for an hour and a half”

“Well… I guess we have plenty to keep us busy” he says gesturing to the surrounding alcohol with a smirk.

“Alcohol actually speeds up the effects of hypothermia” his playful smile drops at your words

“I'm kidding! I mean not really; that is true, but we'll be fine! Here, have a drink” you open a beer and hand it to him. 

Even though you and Han have already been talking for hours, the conversion is never ending. Topics flowing seamlessly into one after another and you guys snack on the drink accoutrements like cherries and such. You have your winter coats on, so the cold is bearable, but you’ve scooted inch by inch close between his legs but facing him with your legs bent over his. You take turns back and forth spraying the whipped cream you have for some of the more elaborate shots available into eachothers mouths. He fills your mouth a bit too much and when you try to close your lips, some spills out onto your chin. Han immediately apologizes and uses his thumb to wipe it off, but his hand lingers on your cheek, and his eyes bounce between your lips and eyes.

Not a second later your lips are smashed together and he is wrapping his arms around to clasp his hand behind your back and pull you into him. His lips are soft and plump and sweet from residual cream. The kisses are slow and passionate. There's tongue but not down your throat, just gentle gliding over lips and dipping in just slightly to get a taste. Things start to heat up when he withdraws slightly to lick over the area that he had wiped, instead of stopping there he licks along your jaw and pushes your hair back to kiss over and behind your ear. Once he pulls away with his head still tilted, you have the opportunity to access his neck leaving wet kisses down to where his shoulder and neck connect. He moans softly as his hands fall down to grip your ass hard. This kiss is truly more intoxicating than any drink, and you recognize that as his noises have a warmth building in your core. You’re loving every seconds, but this is risky enough, the last thing you need if for your coworker to find you fucking a stranger in the walk in. You start to slow down a little and Han immediately follows your lead. To be silly and try to help the sexual tension dissipate you feel Han reaching towards his head and then yours. He pulls your hoods up over your heads and is holding them shut to create a kiss cave forcing the passionate kiss to halt due to your grins and giggles.

Soon the bartender arrives and thankfully the staff is pretty close and all really cool so you don't have to explain much, at least not right now. You guys grab your things, and scamper outside. 

“I guess we don’t need breakfast anymore” Han chuckles to himself.

“I could go for coffee”

“Coffee? I could go for a nap! Don’t you need sleep?”

“Sleep? Baby, I have class.” His eyes widen in shock as he reaches out his hand for your phone.

“You’re insane. I have to see you again, but only after you get some rest.”

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A.n- VERY lightly inspired by the anime How I Attended an All Guys Mixer (get into it). Thank you for reading

-mo���️

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