#he has to look at nasty comments about himself all day | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ridingthatd · 4 months

Text

❝𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐏𝐔𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎❞

𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐘 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

manipulative!geto ✘ fem!reader

summary: geto is one of your innocent friends, what happens when you get stuck in a cabin with him alone since your boyfriend gojo can't make it?, will he stay so innocent?

warnings: 18+, nsfw, so much smut, cabin sex, perv!geto, fingering, squirting, nastiness, geto gets what he wants, gojo is your boyfriend, manipulation, obsession.

today is the day. today is the day geto will get what he wants. today is the day geto will get what he dreamed of. today is the day geto gets to live his little nasty fantasy. today is the day geto will finally get to feel your soft, plump body against his- that's if, if only if everything goes according to his plan, and be demanded getos plans will always work.

"ah here you are suguru!" you slowly wave your hand at geto as he makes his way toward your cabin, the cabin where you and gojo have been living for the past few months, he would be lying if he said he isn't jealous of his dear childhood friend. keeping you all to himself. gojo and geto have always shared everything, even the stupid childish dream about living without curses- they both shared it, so what about you? why is saturo so selfish that he can't share you with him?.

part of geto doesn't blame his friend because if he had you. he would split the ocean in half before giving you to anyone.

geto smiles softly at you. waving back, he smiles even wider once he sees the way you're hopping from leg to leg- clearly just as excited as he is to meet you.

"careful y/n don't want you hurting yourself on my watch." he speaks out once he's in a close distance to get a good look at the gorgeous goddess in front of him, cheeks flushed from hopping around, grinning from ear to ear, hair slightly messy because of the cold breeze that's hitting both of you.

you playfully role your eyes "don't worry suguru I'm a grown woman, of course i wouldn't hurt myself in such a silly way like you do." getos cheeks flush remembering the embarrassing moments of him being clumsy around you.

"aw your ears are getting red no need to be embarrassed geto" you say while gently rubbing his ear between your finger tips- trying to rub his redness away. getos breath hitch this little act of yours, you have no idea- no idea what you do to your so called "sweet" suguru.

"im not embarrassed, it's just because it's cold outside" geto mumbles, you let out a little mhm while you move your hand away folding them close to your body, making your breast slightly peark up."if you so say, now get inside don't want you catching a cold on my watch" you say teasingly micking him- now it's his turn to roll his eyes at you.

both of you make it inside the warm cabin, it wasn't to small or to big, it was just enough the perfect size for two new happy couple. it was the perfect size to cuddle and fuck in, if geto was the one with you here- he would have fucked you in every inch of this cabin, print his cock in you everywhere, claim you in every inch so everytime he isn't here, you would remember the way he fucked you in every corner- but today there isn't ifs because he's gonna make it happen, after all he's geto.

you happily sip the last bit of the soup geto has made for both you.

"I didn't know you were a chef suguru- I guess every day the huge brain of yours learn something new". geto blushes a little before snorting at your little comment about his brain "it's nothing special, it's just a soup recipe I learned from my grandpa, that he used to make when I was sick" he says while staring at the way you happily rub at your cute little tummy, that he has noticed grew a little since the last time he saw you- it's not that he minds oh no it makes him more eager to touch you- to squeeze your little stomach while he eats you out, holding you in place by your tummy.

"still it made both of me and my baby happy" you say cheekly not realizing what you just said till geto drops his spoon.

"y... your baby?" geto repeats making sure he heard you right, making you realize what you just said- your eyes widen and you stand up quickly making the chair you were sat on fall with a thud.

"NO- oh god no im not pregnant or anything!" you hurriedly say as if geto thinking your pregnant is your hugest fear, he stare at you confused.

"then why did you-" he was cut off by you "it's just me and gojo been acting as if im pregnant and saying cheesy stuff-" you say as if that makes any sense "I don't know why but it's been gojos new thing to act as if im pregnant so it just rubbed off on me I guess" you mumble hoping the big guy would understand what you mean- you finally got the courage to look up at him, and it catches you off surprise what you see- you have never seen geto with such a dark expression on his face, he was clenching his hand into a fist under the table. you were not sure what to say.

so that's what gojo been up to huh. breeding his lovely y/n. trapping you so he won't be able to have you. the thought of that made geto fume in rage, how many times have gojo fucked you and breed you full with his cum? how many times have gojo planted his seed inside of you pretending to impregnate you? geto won't let this happen, and tonight he will make sure of it. by marking his seed inside of you before gojo gets to steal that from him.

"it's.. it's fine it just got me off guard that you guys would have kept something as big as you being pregnant from me" geto stares at you with sad eyes- he has to keep the innocent act till he gets what he wants, he wasn't entirely lying. it would make him really upset if you guys kept such thing hidden from him.

"no no no no suguru- you know you would be the first person we would tell if that ever happens right?" you say panickly "yea I know".

soon after the sun has disappeared and a gloomy dark weather has appeared- you had always since childhood hated rain and thunder, of course geto knew that- this is why he's here today. this is why he made a specific plan to be here at this time, at this weather, and mostly at a time where gojo wouldn't be around.

you stare at the window as your hear the soft drops of rain starting to fall- you frown "saturo won't make it today with such weather" you worriedly say and of course geto knew that I mean after all it was part of his plan-"yea looks like it".

loud thunder and heavy rain sounds fill the room. under the darkness of this room it lights up each time. after every thunder to, show a glimpse of you and geto laying together with only 1 blanket. 1 pillow. 1 bed.

"im sorry geto-its just... you know i can't handle the thunder" you softly whipser, shuffling next to him. of course again geto knew that, he knew that you would get scared to be alone in your room, he knew that you'd come to him seeking for comfort, and he knew he would give you that with no hesitation.

"it's alright. it's just like back when we were kids right?" geto mumbles shifting to turn around and look at your curled up back shivering from discomfort of the loud thunder. he slowly stretch his arms towards you. fingers itching to feel the warmth of you, once he reachs you- you stiff unsure how to feel about that "geto-" you were cut off by him shushing you gently while hooking his arms around your waist and pulling you to his chest.

"shhhh it's okay. im here everything is going to be okay" he softly rock you against his chest-pressing your whole body warmth against his and god it felt so good to have you this close. finally he thought while pressing his nose against your hair- taking a deep breath of the cherry smell of your hair. finally he thought again. finally he can have you while slowly trailing his nose against your ear going lower and lower. finally he thought once more. finally he can get to mark his sweet little y/n.

"geto-" you breath out once more, feeling your childhood friend press his front against you- gently sucking your earlobe in his mouth, coating it with his warm spit.

"what are you doing-" you gently tug, trying to escape his grasp- not realizing you accidentally rubbed your ass on his already ragging hard on. geto hiss, realising your now spit-covered earlobe from his mouth "careful- don't want me cumming in my pants just yet". you gasp you have never thought such a dirty words would come out of your dark haired innocent friend.

a loud thunder seems to snap you out to reality, you flinch at how loud it was- you couldn't even fully react because geto was already shushing you and gently rubbing your belly. "shhh it's okay baby I know, I know just let me take care of this okay hm? let me make you forget about this- you don't have to do anything just lay close to me while I make you feel so so so good, that you won't have to worry about the silly little thunder hm?"

you were confused, scared, shakey about what's happening this is why you hated rainy days because they always make you go blank- weak can't do anything, you didn't even realize that you were crying until you felt geto licking away a tear that dropped from your eye. his tongue felt warm and wet against your cold cheek.

"aw my little baby- don't cry I will take care of you, don't worry" he gently whispered still soothing your belly the only difference is that his hands are now under your shirt- making skin to skin contact with it. his hand felt so warm and comforting that you simply just sniffle and node to scared and confused to do anything else.

"such a good girl for me" geto mumbles against your neck while slowly lowering his hand from your belly- to your underwear trailing soft circles on top of your underwear.

he can feel your sweet little pussy throbbing under his hand- such a sweet pussy even through confusion your pussy is still so eager for him. he flickes your underwear up and slide his hand under- his groan is muffled by your neck, as he suck on it leaving a redish purple mark covered with his drool behind. he can feel how sticky and warm you were plusing under his touch- clenching around nothing so ready for one of his long fingers to slide right into your warmth.

he starts sucking on your delicate neck drung off the smell of you, as he rubes gentle circles on your clit- you let a whimper, you let out the sweetest whimper he ever heard. it made him go crazy because it finally hits him. he's making you his. he's making you feel good. he's touching your pussy. so warm so sticky so wet, he couldn't help himself from rocking his hips against your ass basically humping your ass while fingering you.

he goes faster. more aggressive- you couldn't help the loud whine that left you. clear warm liquid gushing out of you, coating his finger, he starts to hump you faster he can practically feel his percum soaking through his boxer.

he suddenly flips you into your back- him on top of you, earning a gasp out of you- you finally caught a look at him. he didn't look like the sweet geto you knew, he looked like an animal waiting to rut, his hair is messy, cheeks flushed, drool leaving his mouth and coating his puffy red lips. you couldn't help your gaze going down- he was huge who knew geto could hold such a weapon between his legs.

Impatiencly he slides your shorts and underwear off- he couldn't wait more to take a look at the sweet puffy pussy of yours. once it was free he left out a long groan- head dropping to take a closer look while hooking your legs around his shoulder.

"fuck y/n- look what the sight of your wet pussy do to me" he shakily says palming his dick out of his boxers. he was indeed huge, the long distance between the darkish hair around his base and the top but what caught your attention is the hot pink head and the white percum leaking out of it. it was a breathtaking sight you couldn't deny.

geto is shaking- he doesn't know why. is he shaking from excitement. is he shaking from how nasty he is. is he shaking because he knows it's fucked up or is he shaking because he can't wait to eat the wet creamy pussy in front of him- he doesn't waste any more time and dig right into his meal.

the thunder is long gone. it stopped and the only sound left in this room was the wet, sucking and licking sounds your pussy is geto slowly raise his head, you thought he was finished but the way he holds your eyes tells you something different- he maintain eye contact while slowly spitting, letting the drool leave his mouth and land directly on your clit. this time it was you who couldn't hold out your moan. once he started to suck on your clit again it's over for you.

you squirt all over his face, clear liquid gushing out of your pretty pussy- geto couldn't believe it, but that didn't stop him from opening his mouth and letting all the squirt go directly into his mouth. it's like he's drinking out of a holy fountain of a goddess, and this sent him over the edge- white hot cum spurts out of his angry dick and lend on your thighs.

your body was shaking, you could barely keep your eyes open after this. the only thing you heard before falling into deep sleep was "rest y/n because we're not done yet".

3K notes · View notes

seventeenpins · 3 months

Text

a slight miscalculation - pt. i

pairing: Joel x F!Reader

word count: 8.3k

summary: Sarah is off to college, and Joel is about to be living in an empty nest. They road trip out together, and as she spends her first night in her new apartment, he's staying in a nearby hotel. Letting go of his inhibitions for the first time in a long time, he tumbles into a one night stand that becomes very complicated, very quickly.

content/warnings: smut, age gap, mycologist!reader, dick sucking, implied pussy eating, fingering, no outbreak au, reader likes to hike, reader also infodumps, joel miller has a big cock, he also has anxiety, reader has anxiety too, and a cat, reader is in early 20s--exact age not established, one (1) use of daddy, alcohol and weed consumption, joel is a diligent condom wearer, set in present day, discussion of girl scout cookies, joel is sweet and soft and hasn't been eviscerated by the death of his daughter

a/n: I'm intending this to be about five parts. This may change, but right now it's looking like five. I've been struggling to write for a while, unable to focus, but I think I'm back at it? as always, your feedback is hugely appreciated, and i'm kissing all likers and commenters and rebloggers deeply and with tongue 🩷

check out pt. ii

For the first time in nineteen years, Joel is completely adrift. Sarah's starting college in just two months.

It's the kind of realization that hits him like a bucket of ice water, a sudden shock and then an unpleasant trickling of anxiety wrapping about him in nasty tendrils. And then he feels guilty, because he's so, so happy for Sarah because he knows that she's thrilled, but fuck she's gonna be two time zones away and now what's Joel meant to do on Thursday movie nights when he's here without her?

It's terrifying, and it's new. And it's not that he's new to anxiety. He's usually anxious, and he has the Sertraline on his bedside stand to prove it. But if his general anxiety baseline usually hovered around a 6.4, where he was at now far surpassed a 10. It felt exponential, and totally exhausting.

When he voices his fears to Tommy, to Joel's horror, Tommy just doubles over in laughter.

"Jesus, Joel," he wheezes, wiping fake tears from his eyes in exaggerated movements, "You looked so serious I thought you were gonna say you'd killed someone."

Joel scowls. "The fuck you laughing for?"

"She's going to college, it's not like she's dying!"

"How'm I gonna be there for her? What if she needs me? What if-"

"Joel-," Tommy pats him gently on the shoulder, "She can always call you, and you can always call her. And we both know she's got a good head on 'er shoulders."

Joel snorts in concession. "Yeah, yeah. Better than yours and mine put together, and then some."

"Exactly." Tommy agrees, "And if there's ever anything that really goes wrong, you got me. We can drive out together and make sure she's okay."

Joel nods and feels the tiniest bit of tension leave him. One step at a time.

Just over nineteen years ago he found out he was about to be a dad. Suddenly, he had a purpose. Having a kid at twenty-two wasn't something he'd ever intended, but somehow he knew he loved his baby girl from the moment he knew she was a possibility. He spent a solid seven months running around, hustling, doing everything he could to get the very best for his kid. He'd take on doubles, working himself to the bone to make sure they had the best crib, and the best stroller, too. He was thrilled and terrified and so, so green.

Now, his heart feels so big he doesn't know how to handle it. His baby girl is an honest-to-god adult, moving out and going to college, and he has no idea what he's gonna do with his time now.

He has work, of course. But beyond that? He's really gotta to widen his circle, he realises, because who's he gonna hang out with? His brother?

He'd only just turned forty-one and had absolutely not come to terms with an empty nest--the few friends from high school he'd kept in touch with were so much further behind than him. The ones that had kids had them later in their twenties and thirties, and now they're raising middle schoolers while Joel's kid is a real fucking person, leaving home and everything. All the scrapping and saving he'd been doing since before Sarah was born–for his little girl to be able to follow any dream she chose–it was finally paying off. The precocious young woman she is, she graduated early and spent nearly a year working retail to save up some cash. She'd applied to colleges all across the country, and a few international ones, too. Joel had been crossing his fingers for months, hoping she'd choose something near Austin, but cheered with her all the same when she got her acceptance letter from Oregon State University. The previous summer, just before she'd started her applications, she and Joel and Tommy spent a miserable, wonderful week hiking round the Pacific Northwest. She fell in love with it, and the university offered a few of the majors she wanted to consider.

Joel didn't know what he'd do with his baby girl so far away, his life, his reason, but he sure as hell wasn't gonna tell her that. He will not clip her wings. His baby's gonna change the world and he's not gonna hold her back. He is, though, gonna require regular phone calls and check-ins and god they grow up so fast.

"Y'all should road trip out there," Tommy suggests one night over the dinner table.

Joel knew the conversation of how Sarah would get to the West Coast would come up, and it oughta be sooner rather than later. He was half afraid that she wanted to head out on her own, that she didn't need her dad anymore. Worried she would say she wanted to get a plane ticket, or take the Amtrak all the way to Corvallis. But he knows he needs to loosen his grip a little, so he braces himself when he turns to her.

"What'dya think, Sarah? You wanna be stuck in a car with your old man for a cross-country trip?"

Sarah rolls her eyes, but her face breaks into a grin. "Can we, Dad?"

This was too good to be true, he knew, but he wasn't gonna give up one last opportunity to spend some time with his girl till winter break.

"Course, baby," he tells her, and that flicker of anxiety quells just the tiniest bit.

The next few weeks fly by, and the knot of anxiety in Joel's chest feels like it's consuming him from the inside out. He's taken some time off, more than Sarah or Tommy can remember, but he's constantly trying to suggest ideas for activities to Sarah. For the most part, she's a good sport, understanding how much it means to her dad. She took pity on him, and let him drag her to places that ideally she would've gone to when she was little, but she humored him and he appreciated her dedication. He did his best to step back when she was heading out to spend time with friends--her time here was limited, after all, and she was always a social butterfly.

There are five weeks till classes start, four weeks, three, two, and in the blink of an eye, they're loading up the truck with all of Sarah's things, and Tommy is hugging Sarah goodbye, teary eyed. He gives Joel a hug, too. Joel would never admit it, but fuck he had really needed that hug.

They would take the scenic route. Make a memorable trip of it. Joel would make sure she settles in safe and sound, and then he'd head home.

6am Sunday.

You wake with a start. It's just over a week before term starts and your entire body aches. Fuck, you think to yourself, definitely overdid it with that last hike.

(The hiking part wasn't itself a problem, but one of the trails had washed out. You thought you'd found your way, but the "easy" three and a half mile hike took about five hours, leaving your calves bruised and your heels blistered.)

You roll over in your hotel room bed and, at the sound of a slight yelp followed by a gentle thud, realise with a sudden start that you just catapulted your cat off the corner.

"Shit, sorry goblin," you tell Spatula, who glares up at you with disdain as he licks at his paw. You reach down and, despite your inadvertent cat launch, he immediately rubs up against your fingertips and lets you scratch behind his ears.

"I'm sorry, baby," you soothe.

He meows, loudly. Howls, really. You take it as an apology accepted.

You sit up properly and look at your phone calendar. Nothing immediate. You don't need to get keys to your new apartment till tomorrow, nor do you meet your roommates till then–they're both moving in today, and moving is already horrible without having to navigate around the belongings of two other people. No, thanks. You can afford one more night at the hotel, and it'll make everything go that little bit more smoothly tomorrow. Besides, you have a bit of reading you'd like to get through, maybe stock up on non-perishables till you have a full-sized fridge, and get to know the city just a little.

You move gingerly, testing the ache in your muscles as you unfold yourself from the position you've been sat in and pull yourself from the bed. It hurts, but not something that won't be fixed with a little movement.

A plan forms. First, a walk, to try and loosen up your tight muscles. Then, errands. You have a whole list, with everything categorised by store, but then you enter IKEA and exit fifteen minutes later, only to find that five and a half hours have passed and it's evening now.

How was it that IKEA harnessed such a malicious power. How could anything harness that?

You need a fucking break. And a goddamn drink.

"Hey Dad," Sarah calls from the adjacent bedroom as Joel sweats, hauling another box towards her. The drive has been good, but it has been long. His legs ache. His back aches. There are parts of him that he didn't know existed that now ache.

"Yeah?" he calls back.

"Are you sure you're okay with me staying here tonight?"

Joel lets out a breath. He wants to be okay with it. And there's no way his nineteen year old would want to hang out with her dad when she could be spending the very first night in her brand new apartment. But he also wishes she wanted to spend one last night, hanging out in a hotel room with her dad. They could watch shitty movies together. Make the most of the final night before this cataclysmic shift.

But no.

That'd just be him being selfish. He can handle a night by himself. He's gotta handle a whole lotta them soon enough.

"O'course baby," he nods, hoping the smile he's plastered on his face looks totally genuine. "But we're still doin' breakfast in the morning, right?"

She nods, vigorous, and then waves her phone around. "I was looking up places! There's a diner called Tommy's," she laughs, "Wanna try that? 9:30?"

"Let's do it," he smiles, and this one is a little less forced.

"How much more do we have?" Sarah asks, nodding towards the box Joel's still holding.

"Last box," he grunts, "What else can I help with?"

He places the box down and lets out a slight, almost silent whimper. Sarah catches it, though.

"Maybe you should take it easy the rest of the day, Dad," she tells him, "We both know you have old man back."

He rolls his eyes but nods. "Guess you're right," he shrugs, "That my cue to take off?"

Sarah blushes but turns to him sheepishly. "Yeah, I-"

"No need to explain," Joel assures, "I know you must wanna get unpacked and settle in, get to know your roommates an' all."

She jumps up and, almost startling him, wraps her arms around him in a bear hug.

"Love you, dad," she grins, and she squeezes just a little tighter than usual.

He squeezes back, and they both pretend there aren't tears in his eyes.

As you step through the doors of the hotel bar, you decide you like it. The lighting is comfortably low. It's not loud, but it's not quiet, either. Colorful bottles line the shelves, the light of the filament bulbs glinting off the glass in rainbow prisms.

You take a seat at the bar and give a nod of thanks as the bartender passes you a small menu. It's unsurprisingly extortionate, hotel bar and all, but it'll do.

"Old fashioned, please," you tell the bartender, who nods in response. A minute later, he hands you a glass, delivered with a twist of orange and a cherry on top.

With your first sip, you feel your shoulders start to relax and some of the tension loosen from your body. The warmth of the burn envelops you and your stress starts to unravel, leaving only the buzz feeling good.

You order a second, and as the glass is handed to you, a voice to your right catches your attention.

"This seat taken?" a man asks.

You shake your head and offer a quick smile, gesturing towards it, "All yours."

"Much obliged," he nods, and slips into the backless stool next to yours.

The bartender comes over and passes him the same menu, but without looking at it he asks, "Could I get an old fashioned?"

You smile and catch his eye, tipping your glass towards him. "An excellent choice," you praise, "Though if you don't have a sweet tooth, I'd recommend asking Jeff there if he can go easy on the simple syrup."

"Oh yeah?" He asks, and then he leans in conspiratorially. "T'tell you the truth, I do have a bit of a sweet tooth."

You raise an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

Suddenly, he breaks into a grin and it's dazzling.

"Yeah," he laughs, "I've got cookies stashed in secret locations all through my house."

You raise an eyebrow. "If I keep 'em in my pantry, my brother'll find 'em and eat 'em all," he explains, "But ever since my kid was a girl scout, I always get cravings for girl scout cookies, so I buy an armful o'boxes and try and preserve 'em throughout the year, till I can replenish."

"What's your favorite girl scout cookie?"

"Caramel deLites, hands down."

"Oh yeah?"

"Absolutely," he nods.

The bartender, Jeff, sets the man's drink down with a clink. You catch one another's eye and both erupt into a fit of laughter.

You're not even sure what's funny. Maybe it's just been a long day? Maybe the whiskey was getting to you?

Whatever it is, it feels good.

The man takes a sip of his drink and lets out an aaaahh and it's goofy and charming and then he extends his hand.

"Joel," he tells you, "Joel Miller". You shake his hand, introduce yourself, and then take a sip of your own drink.

"So, tell me about yourself," you smile, "You coming from out of town?"

"Yes ma'am," he nods, "Come up here from Austin."

"Texas?"

Joel nods.

"That's a long trip."

"Yeah," he laughs, "It really is."

"So, you're a nice Southern boy, huh?"

"Well," he swishes his glass and tries to bite back a smile, "I don't know that I'd go quite so far, but my mama did raise me to be a gentleman."

"That so?" you ask and his blush deepens.

"I... have been known to get up to some trouble, but I like to think I've mellowed in my old age." He gestures at the beautiful little smatterings of silver at his temples, and you cackle.

"Okay, that's hot," you tell him and he chokes, but you keep going, "Old age, though? What are you, like, forty?"

He exhales, chagrined. "Forty-one."

You roll your eyes. "That ain't old."

"It feels it sometimes," he smiles, "My kid is grown. My little brother's married with a kid of his own on the way. My back hurts, pretty much all the time."

You snort. You also notice, without trying to look, that he doesn't have a wedding band. Doesn't have a tan line for one, either. Interesting.

"But more than that," he continues, "I guess I feel- I don't know. A little... aimless?"

"Yeah," you nod, and you let the moment sit. "I get that."

He lets out a little breath, and then turns back to you, focused.

"What about you? Where're you from?"

"Oof," you exhale, "All over. Spent a bit of time on the East coast. The Midwest. Lived a few months in the South, even," you tease as you bump your shoulder into his and he laughs. It's a surprisingly familiar gesture, but miraculously comfortable.

"Ever make it to Texas?"

"Naw," you shake your head, "My time in the South was all in Mississippi. After that I moved out to California, and I've been slowly working my way up the West Coast."

"And what have you been enjoying about the West Coast?" Joel asks.

"The mushrooms," you grin, and Joel frowns.

"Like, the kind you get in a little baggy from the dealer down the street, or-?"

"No," you laugh, "Or, well- Okay, sometimes. Gotta say it is great out here for that, too. But I mean fungus as a whole--mushrooms, mold, yeast, lichen. But I'm most interested in mushrooms. They're just really fuckin' cool, and there's so much we don't understand about them. And, they're delicious."

"Huh," Joel ponders, "T'tell you the truth, I've never thought much about mushrooms, besides enjoying 'em as a pizza topping."

"Most people don't," you agree, "But fuck, like-- Okay, so we know there are over five million types of fungi on Earth, but we've identified less than two percent of them. Some fungus aids decomposition. Some fungus is bioluminescent. Some are known worldwide for their delicious flavours, and others are known by the slow, horrible ways they kill you."

Joel raises his eyebrows, and suddenly you feel a little self conscious.

"Sorry, I do this," you laugh, rubbing at the back of your neck, "I get very excited about fungus and manage to alienate everyone around me."

You half expect him to stand up and walk away.

Instead, though, he leans in closer. "Don't apologise," he tells you, "I'm learning something new. Tell me more?"

"No, I should stop. Otherwise I'll never stop talking," you wince.

"How about just one more fungus fact?"

You sit for a minute, pondering. "This is- well, I guess this is one of the reasons I find fungus so fascinating. So, fungus can't photosynthesise the way that plants do--they can't produce their own food from sunshine, and water, and carbon dioxide. Instead, their mycelium-- they're these thread-like networks--they branch out beneath the earth, seeking out food, growing in the direction where it can find the nutrients it needs and breaking down organic material all around them, sometimes living organisms, as a parasite, and sometimes dead organisms as a decomposer, or both. And it's just- It's this hidden world, that exists right beneath the surface even in some of the extreme places on earth, temperature-wise. And most days, we don't even think about it."

You punctuate your thought with a large swallow of your drink, which is half-watered down now that the ice is melted, and doesn't hit quite as hard as you'd hoped, but then you look up at Joel and he's smiling at you, pensive, and--

"That's- That's actually really interesting."

Before you can respond, though, Joel glances at his watch and balks. It is getting late. "Shit," he shakes his head, "I think I oughta call it a night," he says, pulling back. "Early morning tomorrow, and if I stay at the bar I'll just keep drinkin'."

Fuck. That's a dismissal. Of course you went on too much about mushrooms. You'd fucked this up. You'd thought this was going well, but now it felt like a bucket of cold water was dumped over you. "Oh," you nod, matching his posture, and try to swallow down the sudden wave of disappointment. "Of course. Have a good night, Joel."

Joel stands up and then looks you up and down, considering. It's not brazen, but it isn't shy, either. And then understanding flashes across his face.

"Wait- Sorry, that's not how I meant it." He reaches out towards you and you melt into his touch. "I'm messin' this up." He chuckles, but it sounds pained. "Now look, I don't wanna make any presumptions. And I'm really hopin' I'm not coming off as some--dirty old man. Jesus, I haven't done this in a while. But I'm in room 308."

Your eyebrows shoot up. What you'd taken for disinterest was just--nerves?

"I reckon I'll be awake for a while yet. You're welcome to... drop by."

The disappointment melts, making way for a fluttering in your stomach.

"Twenty minutes," you assure him, "308?"

He nods and he brakes into a sheepish grin, shedding what you now realise had been something of an anxious wince. "308."

You watch him leave. When he's out of sight, you toss back the rest of your watery drink and go to pay your tab, but Jeff tells you it was already settled. You thank him and tuck your shaking hands in your pockets. You feel an electricity running through you as you take the elevator up.

When you get back to your room, you hop into the shower, just to freshen up--you keep your hair dry but scrub your body. Once you're clean, you brush your teeth.

Stepping back out of the en suite, you survey the hotel room. Spatula is lounging on the corner of the bed, entirely uninterested in your movements. You top up his dry food bowl and place a kiss between his ears before slipping out.

When you knock at Joel's door, you hear a slight rustle and clatter and then the door swings open, Joel's staring a little wide-eyed, like he didn't actually expect you to show. He's wearing grey sweats and a Johnny Cash t-shirt that looks like it's been around nearly as long as you have. He shifts his weight from foot to foot, an anxious tell that's desperately endearing.

"C'mon in," he smiles, and you step in, closing the door behind you.

You reach out to cup his face, delighting in the feeling of coarse stubble beneath your fingertips. Your first kiss is chaste. You both lean forward and press your lips to one another gently, exploring.

Then, you let out a little moan and Joel shudders. Heat surges between you, and his hands are cradling your head and brushing your cheek and he's pinning you against the closed door. You're kissing again, nothing chaste remaining, learning the taste of him, his rhythm, the crashing waves of give and take between you.

You wrap one leg around him and smirk when he lets out a throaty groan as you grind against his hard cock. You're pretty sure he's not wearing underwear, the thick bulge seemingly unconstrained in his grey sweats, the whole length pressing against your thigh.

Your head falls back and you let out soft, breathy noises as his lips trace along your collarbone, up your throat, and against that tender little spot behind your ear. When he puts your earlobe between his lips and presses his teeth gently against the skin, your knees go weak and he chuckles, strong arms wrapping around you, holding you up.

"Bed?" he asks, and you breathe yes and then, with a yelp and a throaty chuckle, you're lifted up and spun around and both tumbling into the duvet.

You're grasping at each other, desperate to keep your hands on one another. The only times you part is when you undress, and even then, you're helping each other--pulling the hem of his shirt over his lifted arms, pressing into him as he reaches around and moves to unhook your bra, but then he realises you're not wearing one and lets out a groan, his thumbs brushing alongside the tender skin along your ribs, moving gently as if to cup your breasts, but then he pulls back.

Normally you might wait, do this part slowly, draw out the tease just a little bit longer.

Tonight, though, you're ravenous.

As you fiddle with the buttons of your pants, you tug at the drawstring keeping Joel's sweats on his hips. The bow comes loose in one smooth motion, and he lifts his hips and you pull the sweats down.

Your mouth immediately waters seeing him bare, laid out for you. You watch a bead of precum drip down the head and pool on his belly. The coarse hair of his happy trail glistens with it. He's thick, uncut, and looks painfully hard, his cock head ruddy. "Fuck, you're beautiful," you tell him, and his cheeks redden but he grins. It's boyish, the way he grins, and devastatingly charming.

And, what you're saying is true. His body is gorgeous, something you wish you could sketch. Soft flesh over hard muscle, visible tan lines where his chest and shoulders are noticeably lighter than his arms. The muscles and veins along his throat are driving you absolutely fucking insane as he swallows and looks up at you.

He's got freckles on his shoulders, too, and without thinking, you lower yourself down to kiss at his shoulder. He shakes, just a little, and lets out the most beautiful gasp. It's addictive, pulling these noises from him. You follow the curve of him, giving him a taste of his own medicine--tracing feather-light kisses along his collarbone, up the tendons of his neck, behind his ear. You can feel the blood pulse in his veins as your lips brush along him. Joel goes from panting lightly to full on groaning, rutting his hips up towards you and, frustrated, meeting only air.

"Can I taste you?", you ask, and Joel lets out a half-strangled sound and nods, vigorous.

You scoot back, lower yourself, poke out your tongue and, without any preamble, lick at the slit of his head, tasting the salty, tangy precum.

Joel tips his head back and groans and you decide to be kind. You grasp onto his hips and take him in your mouth, slowly sinking down, inch by inch by inch and now you can feel him at the back of your throat, your saliva dripping down the shaft and collecting in the hair between his thighs.

You bob your head up and down, taking him deeper with each thrust, but your throat is full and there are still inches to go. You relax, doing everything you can to take him deeper, and he starts to thrust up gently.

You let him fuck into your mouth but release one of his hips, allowing him to move as freely as he needs and freeing up your hand, which you shove into your underwear, rubbing furiously at your clit.

It doesn't take much to lose yourself in it, to focus only on the sensation. You're so wet, slick coating your fingers, making the glide that much smoother as you touch yourself. Joel tastes so good, too, the intrusion of his cock the most delicious thing, feeling the way he shudders when you moan, the way he moans when you shudder.

"Fuck-" Joel gasps, and then there's a hand guiding you gently off of him.

You raise an eyebrow. "You okay?"

He swallows, hard, and nods. "More than okay. Felt too fuckin' good."

"Oh yeah?" and you lean down, as if to take him back in your mouth, but he chuckles and pulls you back again.

"It's been... a while. For me. And-" He drags his palm down his face, wearing an almost pained expression. "Christ, you just look too fuckin' good down there, mouth stretched 'round me while you touch yourself. An' it feels too fuckin' good, too. I ain't ready for this to be over yet but if you keep lettin' me fuck your throat like that it's gonna be over real quick. And I wanna feel that pretty pussy myself."

You sit back up and he pulls you towards him so you're straddling him.

"You gonna fuck me, Joel?"

"Yes," he breathes, "Yes, baby, please-"

You do an awkward wobble and then stand up, shedding your pants and letting your panties drop, stepping out of them, one foot and then the other, and the way he's watching you is addictive. He watches you with beautiful eyes, drinking all of you in, and suddenly the moment has changed into one of those quiet, intimate moments where you both exhale a laugh.

You straddle him again, and lean down to kiss him, and the electric current surges up. He grabs you by the jaw, meeting your desperation. His lips on yours are exactly the balm you need and you can taste the whiskey on his breath.

"Feels fucking good," you tell Joel as you slide up and down his length. He's not penetrating you, not yet, but the lips of your pussy are spread and you're gliding along him, feeling his head at your clit and thrusting back till you're nearly seated on his balls.

He watches you, nearly unblinking, drinking it all in. Then, he lets out a groan, and half-sits up, suddenly focused.

"Shit," he closes his eyes in frustration, "I don't have any condoms. Shit shit shit-"

You push him back down and kiss him again. Then, you hop off the bed and sift around in your jean pockets.

"Ah-ha!," you exclaim, once you've found your treasure. Joel raises and eyebrow and you wink. "Saw they were selling them in the lobby. Figured it might be a good idea."

"Shit," Joel laughs, and presses his lips just to the side of your mouth. "Clever girl," he tells you, and a shiver goes up your spine.

He leans to help, but you shoo him away and he watches, entranced, as you neatly open the condom wrapper and, with a small amount of difficulty, roll it down his cock.

"Feeling okay?" You ask him, "Shit, I shoulda gotten the Magnums. Is your dick okay? It's not being choked to death by an inappropriately sized rubber, is it?"

Joel snorts. "We'll manage," he says, and then he grips you by the hips, lines himself up. He draws his knuckles along your cunt and groans, "Fuck, so goddamn wet for me-" and, the moment you look at him and nod, he holds the head of his cock against your drooling lips and presses into you.

It's a big stretch as he lowers you down onto him, the intrusion almost painful, but before you can even take a breath, it melts into absolute pleasure. You've fucked people with longer cocks before, and you've fucked people with girthier cocks before, but never have you fucked someone with a cock that's both this long and thick and it feels like you're being split in two and it's perfect and you realise, with a sudden flip of your stomach, he isn't even fully seated inside you yet.

Then, you manage to focus on the words Joel is saying-that had really just been background noise for the past ten seconds or so-and suddenly you're tuning back in for "Tha's it," his voice low and hoarse, surprisingly gentle, "Good girl, takin' this cock so well, look at you."

His brow is furrowed and he's looking at you with such dark eyes, nearly black, the pupils are so blown. "Just a little more, that's it, just one more inch, you can do it, christ, look at you, takin' all of me."

His tone is reverent and it sets a fire through you. You can feel more slickness build and drip out of you, and from the way he moans, you're certain he can feel it too despite the condom.

"So fuckin' wet," he groans, "Soakin' my cock- grippin' me so nice-Fuck--"

He leans towards you and cradles your head in his hand, kissing you hard.

When you both pull back, you know your lips must be kiss swollen and red. His are--they're soft and bright, and you want to eat him whole.

"You're gonna be the death of me, woman."

He's thrusting into you lazily, holding you in place, but you need more, you need all of him.

You push forward and move his hand from your waist to your clit. As you manoeuvre him, his nostrils flare, and you'd wonder if he was angry, if not for the way you felt his cock stiffen even further inside of you. You start to move your hips, to rub up against the thumb on your clit, and to feel every fucking inch of him.

Urged on by the way he groans, you start to ride him, properly. Holding each other close, you fuck down onto him and he leans back, awed.

"Enjoying the show?" you ask.

"Damn- right- I- am-," Joel breathes, every word punctuated with a shuddering breath after you drive back down onto his cock, "Jesus- you- look- so- good- like- that."

You like being watched. Being admired. It sent an extra thrill through you, and your hips stutter, just a little, and now you're following a new, faster rhythm.

"Fuck, that's it, baby-" he praises, "Shit, yes- bounce on it."

You lean forward and kiss his throat, and then he makes this noise, half-strangled and beautiful.

"Shit, honey-- honey, honey, hold on-," he holds you still and you're glad he has, because your brain hadn't quite processed his words.

He's looking at you so earnestly.

"Baby, if you keep ridin' me like this I am gonna blow my load in the next twenty seconds and I don't wanna end this quite so soon."

You hum, a moment of consideration. You stare into his eyes, and part of it is calculated seduction, but another part is getting genuinely lost in the way he looks at you. The crinkles round his eyes. The way he seems able to focus on you, in a way that feels as frightening as it is exhilarating.

"How about this," You smile, "You get yours, and then you can eat me out till I get mine. And if you're ready to go again by the time I've come, we can see where we're at then. Hmm?"

You see a bead of sweat trickle down his temple, and take a moment to appreciate how much he's clearly trying to control himself.

After a moments of avoiding your eye, he looks at you again and he looks utterly wrecked. "You- talkin' like that?" He shakes his head and tries to even his breath. "Fuck, I nearly came right there."

"It's okay," you soothe, and you cup his jaw and resume you movements, riding him like you had before. "You can come if you need to-" your fingertips stroke the stubble of his chin, "You're close, huh? It's okay, daddy, you can let go."

Joel lets out a strangled noise and busts immediately.

You savor the way it feels, the pulse of his cock as he spills into you. No, into the condom, you correct yourself, but you can always pretend-

After his balls relax and you can feel him start to get soft, you hold the condom down as you pull yourself off, and you're nearly unseated when there's a sudden squelch noise that sends you both into tumbles of laughter.

It takes a while to calm down, and you find yourselves heaving, tangled in the sheets, and wrapped up in each other. The condom is hanging limply on Joel's now-soft cock and it's oddly cold and gooey as you accidentally roll against it, and that sends you both off again.

"Fuck," Joel snorts, and tugs at the condom, starting to roll it off his length, "I'd almost forgotten the weird texture of a used condom. Fuckin'... Slug-like."

"That-" you declare, "Is visceral. And I hate it. Thanks."

He snorts, and you suddenly have a question.

"Condoms not making too many appearances in your life?"

"Not many, no."

"What, you usually fuck raw?"

"Just haven't been sleepin' with anyone," he shrugs, nonplussed.

"Well, I gotta say, the good people of Austin have been missing out."

Joel shrugs again, and it comes off as casual, but you notice the way his ears tint pink. "Just- not been something I did. But now, I guess, I can. And with way less guilt."

"Why guilt? Are-" you venture, dread pooling in your stomach, "Are you married?"

His eyes flit up to you sharply, and then soften immediately. He lets out a breath and shakes his head. "No. Nothin' like that. I was married, but I've been divorced nearly twenty years now."

The tightness immediately uncoils and you realise how tense you were only a moment ago. I am not a cog in the machine of a collapsing marriage. Thank fuck.

But now your curiosity is piqued. "So... why the guilt?"

"Sorry, I- I really didn't mean to get into it. I'd rather not get into it. It's- complicated."

"Of course," you shrug, and it isn't a problem because this is just a hot fantasy hookup that you'll remember fondly, and it'll be wonderful masturbation fuel for probably the rest of your life, but you don't wanna make the poor guy go into his life's trauma, especially when he's looking at you so fucking earnestly and you are actually really fucking fascinated but no, you would not let this become a problem.

"Thanks," he says, and then steps out of the room. You hear the clang of the bin as he steps on the pedal, then drops the condom, takes a piss and washes his hands.

"You hungry?" He asks, and you realize very suddenly, you're absolutely famished.

"Yes," you jump up and he laughs when you run, bare-assed and shameless, over to the corner of the room filled with brochures and traveller info and finally, you raise it in triumph when you find it, the list of nearby takeaways.

"Okay," you look at the list, "There's one place at the top of the list here that's apparently highly rated, but I actually have plans there soon and I wanna wait till then to eat there. Hope that's okay."

Joel comes over to you and rests his head on your shoulder. "No problem."

"But... alright," you continue. "There's pizza. Or... more pizza. Or, look--there's a Southern-style place, that'll make you feel right at home!" Joel pokes you in the side and you swat at him as he grunts a laugh.

Suddenly, a warning sound starts playing on loop in your brain. It was dreadfully domestic, wasn't it? This was an absolute stranger you'd just met in a hotel bar? But... it also felt... nice? And it felt nice in ways that you'd never found yourself enjoying before. Even with long-term partners. Maybe because this was so low-stakes, you reasoned, such an inevitably temporary situation, so you weren't putting the same kind of pressure on yourself.

As soon as you think that, the eternal curse of overthinking shows itself and you suddenly feel desperately self conscious. Before you can pull away and make some excuse, though, Joel's arm wraps around you and his thumb starts rubbing little circles into a tender bit of skin between your hip and your tummy. The anxiety spiral you'd been teetering on the edge of suddenly vanishes.

"How about-," he nods at the list, "Pizza?"

After Joel calls in your order, the pizza delivery service tells you to expect your food in about thirty minutes. You remember you have a little box of edibles. You ask Joel if he minds if you take one, and he doesn't. You offer him one, and he automatically declines, but then as he starts to explain, he pauses and pivots, goes "Wait, actually. Yeah. Why not?"

A freckled kid who looks no more than sixteen pulls up with a short stack of pizza boxes and a two liter bottle of root beer. He raps awkwardly on the door after exactly thirty five minutes, and it swings open.

The room looks utterly wrecked, clothing strewn along every surface. Joel answers the door wearing a robe, his entire face smelling of sex, and his moustache still shining with the slick of your release.

"Thanks, kid," Joel nods, and hands him a small wad of cash. The kid eyes him and shrugs. "Keep the change," he tells him, and the door swings back shut.

The edibles have hit beautifully. You're both blissed out, comfortably hazy, lost in the sensation of bare limbs on bedsheets and the flavors of the pizza and it's assorted sauces. You lay together on the bed, paper plates strewn between you. In the background, an X-Files rerun plays.

"Ooh!" You sit up as you catch the premise of the episode, "I love this one! See the goo? There's a giant fungal... entity.. that's working on digesting them, and giving them hallucinations as they die."

"You and mushrooms, huh?" Joel laughs, but then looks back at the episode and contemplates the viscous yellow goo. "Jesus christ," he frowns, and sniffs, now contemplating the mushrooms on his pizza slice.

You spot his glare and snort. "I think you're safe."

He takes another bite and shakes his head as if to clear it.

"I'm getting tired," he admits.

"Me too," you agree.

"No pressure, but in case it wasn't clear, you're welcome to stay the night here."

"That's sweet," you tell him, and think it over. "If I took you up on that, would you be offended if I slip out early?"

Joel raises a brow.

"I have a cat," you explain, "And I'm working on moving into a new place, and meeting a friend for breakfast, and then I need to check out after breakfast because I won't be able to get my keys for the new place until the breakfast but I can't take my cat to a diner-"

You take a breath.

"Basically, I've got a bunch of things I need to do in the morning, but if you don't mind me slipping out around, maybe, 5-ish, then I'd love to stay."

He stares at you.

You regret saying as much as you said. You don't need to over-explain yourself to this actual stranger. He doesn't care. There's no reason for him to care. He's probably in it just for the fuck, and it was fun and if you stay then there's a chance the two of you will wake up at some point in the night, still horny and lustful and you might fuck again and you'd be lying if you said that wasn't part of the draw. You realise, though, you'd also be lying if you said you didn't care what he thought of you. All of a sudden, you are overwhelmed with caring what this man thinks of you.

How fucking inconvenient.

"I wouldn't be offended at all," Joel chews, swallows, wipes the corner of his mouth with a napkin and speaks again. "What's your cat's name?"

You don't know what you'd expected he'd say, but it wasn't that. You buffer for a moment. "It's- Spatula."

"Spatula?"

"Yep." You feel foolish.

"Huh. Spatula."

A silent moment between you.

"Got any pictures?"

You weren't expecting that, either. "I... do? Do you want to see them?" He nods. You pull out your phone to scroll through.

Joel, suddenly scrambled around for his phone, too. It was late and he hadn't checked it for hours. Had it been on silent? What if Sarah had called and he'd missed it?

His panic eased when he saw he had only two notifications. Both from Sarah, but neither were bad. He hadn't been neglecting any crises. The first text was a selfie of Sarah and an unfamiliar person, which she'd texted to him with the caption New roomie!! The second contained an address to the place they'd have breakfast tomorrow along with Just wanted you to know I've invited a friend to join us tomorrow morning! Is that okay? Realized I should maybe have checked with you? 😬

There was an ache in his chest. He wanted to keep her to himself, get to spend one last day, just the two of them. It was the start of a whole new chapter, but more than anything, he wished he could hold onto the moment for just a second longer.

But Sarah was stressed, he knew this, so he wasn't gonna make it worse and put this burden on her. He could handle it. He had to handle it. He typed back- No problem, baby. Can't wait to meet your friend.

After a moment, he followed up with another text. Gonna turn in now. Good nite!

The less he texted right now, the better. He did not want Sarah to know anything about the night he was having.

His screen lit up a moment later. Night Dad! He takes a deep breath and wills some of the tension away.

He slips his phone aside and you scoot into bed next to him.

"This," you announce, "Is Spatula."

Joel scrolls thru, his brows raising higher with each image.

With a single nod, he opens his mouth and instead of speaking, he collapses into laughter. It comes out a wheeze- "I-- I know this won't make any sense, but your cat looks just like my goddamn brother."

You're laughing now too, both of you almost hysterical, even though you have no frame of reference. You cherish the absurdity.

Then, Joel pulls up a picture on his phone and shows you, and now you're doubling over again because his brother looks exactly like Spatula.

You don't remember falling asleep. You curse your body's internal clock because you wake up right at 5am, and even though you know you should get up and leave, you wish you could have just a little bit longer.

It's such a comfortable way to wake up. One arm is folded under your pillow, and the other is slung over Joel's hip. He's asleep, snoring softly, and strands of his hair are mussed along his forehead. Your hand is holding his tummy, but you realise there's something pressing against the heel of your hand, and then realise, with a delicious jolt, that he's hard and straining against his boxers.

It's so fucking hard to get out of that bed, but with enough barely-effective reminders--you're gonna fuck up your whole day if you're late, gotta make a good impression, Spatula's gonna be so disappointed if you're late with his breakfast--you manage to bully yourself out of the warm and wonderful bed containing blankets and absolutely fantastic dick, and you tiptoe through the room, dress quickly, and, after making a note and leaving it on his bedside stand, you slip out.

Joel wakes up with a jolt, and then rolls over to see that the alarm clock (which he dared not contemplate the number of times he must have snoozed) was telling him it was 9:13.

He was late. Really fucking late. And then the panic made his brain spin faster and that's when he noticed the note on his bedside table.

I had a really good time If you're in town for a little longer, don't be a stranger?

It's followed with your name and phone number, and a rather detailed mushroom sketch across the page. He wasn't sure what kind of mushroom it was, but it was beautiful, and clearly hand-drawn, and for whatever reason you'd decided to tear it out of, presumably, your sketchbook? And you gave it to him, and he's gonna read that note and replay last night for the rest of his fucking life. It felt incredibly precious. He placed it in a book so it wouldn't get creased or folded. Made sure it was all contained and neat, totally flat in between the pages.

Then, he dragged himself out of bed and into the shower.

After scrubbing the smell of sex off of his entire body, he dresses quickly and checks his watch again. 9:28.

He texts Sarah and lets her know he's a few minutes behind. She responds with an eye roll emoji.

Joel settles in his truck and pulls up directions. It's only a few minutes away. He won't be too late.

When Joel steps into the diner, he's charmed by it. It's old school, with a checkerboard floor and bright red vinyl seats. He scans the room till he spots Sarah in a booth in the corner. She's laughing over a hot chocolate, and her friend must be in the seat opposite her.

He catches Sarah's eye and she grins at him, waving him over.

You've been at the diner about fifteen minutes, and you and Sarah are already getting along beautifully.

You'd met on a university message board and had become fast friends, but meeting someone in person was always a little terrifying. On top of that, you'd already committed to spending at least one (academic) year with this person, so you were damn sure gonna make it work.

Sarah waves over her dad. You can't see him yet, the back of the booth too high.

But then he's standing right there.

You already have a hand outstretched, but when he sees you and you see him, your stomach flips and dread runs through you. All the color drains from his face. He looks like a deer in headlights, and you'd be surprised if you didn't look the same.

Sarah looks between you, not quite concerned, but definitely confused. Sarah smiles and tries to diffuse the situation.

"Hi dad!" She grins, "This is my new roommate! Well, the other new roommate--the one in the picture, their name is Ellie, they weren't able to make it this morning. BUT. Breakfast seemed like a great time to hand off keys!"

Joel is still frozen and white-faced. Your brain whirs, and you know you've just fucking catapulted yourself into a disastrous mess, but you do your very best to save face.

Reaching your hand out further so he can't possibly miss it, he gives into some familiar social instinct, takes it and you shake. You think of his hands, how they dragged along your body last night, touched you, felt you, wrecked you.

You introduce yourself. He nods, avoiding eye contact.

"Joel." He grunts. "Miller."

Sarah frowns at him, but turns back to the menu.

This- was unexpected. Problematic. Arguably, really fucked up. All of those things and more. But it'll be fine.

All throughout breakfast, you repeat that to yourself, letting the words bounce around your head. It will be fine, you repeat your mantra, it will be fine, and you try not to feel too hurt at the way Joel's avoiding eye contact as if simply looking at you will cause him unimaginable disgust.

Everything will be fine.

Note: The fic's premise is loosely based on the book Mistakes Were Made which is a fucking excellent sapphic romance novel that utilises this trope. Would strongly recommend the book if you're into smutty queer stories.

#joel miller smut #tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #joel miller x f!reader #ok i gotta be honest i was stoned out of my mind for writing most of this #but mostly sober for editing #thank u for bearing with meeeeeee

1K notes · View notes

mamayan · 7 months

Text

Shigaraki Tomura

cw: NSFW • Holiday Filth • Crush Shigaraki • Modern AU • dry humping • language • implied alcohol usage • pathetic virgin Tomura

Thinking about being Shigaraki’s little sister’s best friend.

Being invited over to her house and being so excited unbeknownst to your friend to see her nasty older brother. Tomura holed up in his room, feet up and knees bent as he sits in his fancy leather gamer chair spewing filth into the mic of his headset. Being given the most toe curling glare from him as he looks up from under his messy bangs and sees you peaking at him through a crack in the door. Sneering and telling you to “fuck off” and you do, scampering away to shamelessly rifle through the medicine cabinet in the bathroom for any of his hygiene products. There’s not many. It doesn’t matter though, since he left his dirty clothes from last night in a bundle on the bathroom floor beside the shower and toilet.

Your friend babbling on endlessly about family drama but you can’t pay attention as dinner begins and Tomura is forcibly dragged down the stairs, eye bags heavy from lack of sleep, mumbling out vague answers on how college is going. He notices his little sister’s annoying friend though, you, who always seems to be judging him from the way you constantly have your eyes on him. It pisses him off, and he’s not afraid of outing you in front of everyone.

“Why don’t you find something better to stare at bitch,” and cackling as the home filled with relatives and friends erupts at his rude comment and language. His family is comforting you, telling you he’s just having a rough day, he doesn’t mean it, etc. Your friend is intent on vengeance but you assure her it means nothing to you. She’s used to the behavior and agrees he’s not worth the trouble, being pulled away by relatives intent on being nosy into her personal life.

Tomura did mean it though, and you know it too, and it still doesn’t stop you from sneaking away upstairs while the house slowly boozes up and begins to become rowdy. Tomura slunk away to return to his game he’d been playing with friends, some stolen snacks and a cheap bottle of vodka in his hoodie pocket he takes a straight swig from every now and then as he gets heated into his gaming match.

He’s nearly surprised to see you open his bedroom door and not his mom or sister intent on giving him a headache.

“Back to keep staring whore?” He’s snickering as he flips up the mic, his game paused for a moment while waiting on another friend to join the match.

“Yeah.” He doesn’t expect you to lock the door, a brow cocked up as he reassess you.

You’re much cuter now. The baby fat gone and a young woman blooming, barely an adult now but it didn’t stop his eyes from lowering to your chest that was rising and falling quite quickly. He’s always been so used to seeing you attached to his bratty shit sister that he’s never appreciated you before.

“Wanna do more than stare though.” He’s even more shocked to see you tossing the ugly Christmas cardigan you matched with his sister, the plain dress under easily lifted over your head and dropped too. Right in front of him.

“Ha, oh yeah?” He’s baffled but not upset, dropping his feet and manspreading wide as his cock hardens in his sweats. He’s shameless in palming himself through them, setting his controller aside and licking his dry lips as you come closer, cute little matching bra and pantie set doing little to hide your hard nipples poking through the fabric and pussy lips. “Fuck, look at you, all grown up huh?” His eyes on you as you slide the dainty fabric covering your cunt down and stepping out, removing your bra next slowly, letting him drink you in. You’re nearly vibrating with excitement, eyes wide and bright as you straddle him.

“Little pervert, you wanna ride my cock?” You smile, because he’s acting like he isn’t some loser virgin with trembling hands digging into the fat of your soft ass. You can feel he’s just as strung up now, his palms lightly sweating as they slide up and cup your breasts, eagerly pitching and pulling at your nipples while you roll your hips over his chubby cock. “D-damn, where’d’ya learn to act like this?” He’s nearly about to cum from touching your tits alone, but the feel of you grinding down on him is making him lose it.

“I watched porn.” He groans, finally losing patience and pulling his dick free from his sweats, ready to naively try and enter you without any prep. He’s huffing and breathing heavy as he rubs the tip through your folds and trying and failing to hump into you. He’s just bumping uselessly against your tightly closed entrance while he moans and buries his face in your chest, happy when you begin to run your fingers through his hair.

He’s coming a minute later. No penetration necessary for him to spurt his hot spunky load against your pussy as he nearly passes out from how hard he cums.

“Holy fuck—!” You nearly have to muffle his cry of pleasure as he grips you for dear life.

The banging on his door a minute later making you both fumble for clothing as your friend’s voice comes out in a battle cry for your location.

“You fucking asshole! You hurt her feelings and now I can’t find her!”

You both only look at one another in amusement and embarrassment.

“Try looking up your ass since her face is always buried there!” He shouts back, and you have to bit back the comment you want to yell at him. Little does anyone else know the true reason you love going to the Shigaraki house when Tomura is home.

#Yan thirsts #shigaraki smut #shigaraki mha #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki x reader smut #tomura shigaraki #shigaraki x reader #boku no hero academia tomura #tomura x reader #tomura shigiraki x reader #tomura smut #bnha smut #mha smut #tomura shigaraki smut

2K notes · View notes

radiance1 · 9 months

Text

Gimmie a Danny and Damian twins au, but not one where they're all gushy gushy and huggy huggy about the fact that they're reunited.

I want one, where they HATE and try to KILL EACH OTHER. Where they're extremely fucked up in their relationship with one another, but can't kill the other because Taila hoped that they could get along.

They spew poison at each other, inflict pain on each other as easy as BREATHING and would leave the other while heavily injured while saying that they could take care of themselves.

I want them to be near mortal-enemies wrapped up in the bodies of two highly-competent and powerful 14 year olds who cannot give a fuck about each other, has a fleeting thought of killing the other on the best of days but doesn't because of their dear mommy Taila.

Then force them to interact with each other after a long period of separation. I don't give a flying FUCK how you manage to do it, perhaps Danny has to run because his parents vivisected him, perhaps the Nasty Burger explosion couldn't be reversed because Clockwork said no and Danny is torn or perhaps Vlad brings him to Gotham for a gala (either redeemed or not redeemed Vlad), etc, etc.

Force these two children who fucking HATE each other under the same roof, make them interact, make them watch each other interact and make comments about it. Maybe even make an unstable Danny try and KILL Damian, but is stopped by the batfam, or maybe make it that Danny can't even bring himself to kill Damian because he's (discounting Talia) the only family he has left.

Maybe even (if you go the Nasty Burger/Dead Fenton fam au) make Danny hate Bruce Wayne's fucking GUTS because this man is trying to replace his dead father (even though Bruce IS his biological father) and hates him even MORE because he looks so similar to Jack's face that he's literally torn whenever he sees him. Make it that he never stays in the same room as Bruce whenever he's not in mask, make it that he tells Bruce TO HIS FACE that he hates the man for trying to replace his dead FUCKING dad and that he will NEVER accept him as one, biologically related or not.

Maybe even make him not like the batfam either just for the fact that they associate with both Bruce and Damian.

(I just remembered about that one post I saw, but BOY is this ramble gonna get even WORSE for dear old Danny. Though this part isn't really necessary could just read the on top bit lol)

Maybe they even find a way to take away his ghost side, and Bruce (With or without Talia) say that it's for the best for him, and Danny? Danny just fucking BREAKS. DOWN. He's full-on crying and screaming at Bruce and maybe has to be held back by the other batkids or not, or maybe he's just fulling on trying to hit Bruce and Bruce either dodges or just takes it.

Saying how fucking DARE he take away his ghost side, that was apart of him and he had NO FUCKING RIGHT to take away something so precious from him. Then Bruce could say that he doesn't need powers, he could be fully if not even more capable as a human.

And Danny just goes "You don't even get it, do you?" And Danny just cries harder because technically that was one the LAST things linking him to his parents. His DEAD parents. Sure, the accident was his fault, but phantom was created because of their portal, in their lab, in their basement.

Even worse if the reveal went RIGHT and they starting accepting how he was half ghost and trying to change their views on ghosts as a whole, only to die. Then, for some guy to just, take away something like that from him?

Maybe Danny would even say that, rip into him about how that was one of the only things linking him to his parents and even if it wasn't he didn't have the fucking right to decide what to do with HIS body.

"You never had to fucking worry about your parents not accepting you, I did. They still loved me regardless, they tried to change for me. But you wouldn't even know what that feels like, would you, you stupid fucking rich boy."

[idk why I typed that part out but just role with it.]

Maybe Bruce tries to sympathize with Danny about his parents, but Danny just doesn't have any fucks left to give about Bruce's life, or anyone else life in Bruce's life at all and just shuts it down or steamrolls over it. At the end of it all Danny is just a crying, shivering wreck and stares down Bruce with eyes full of HATE that tells Bruce one step closer, and he would KILL him.

Maybe then Damian (Either walks in or was there the entire time.) insults Danny over his weakness and depending on his ghost form or something, and Danny just sees fucking RED and jumps on him. No care that he's no longer half ghost, so that he means he could die more easily, no care to anyone else in that room, no care that Talia wanted both of them to get along and not kill each other.

He tries to kill Damian.

He fails miserably, of course, but he still tries. Then tries again and a fucking gain.

Then after all that he just, doesn't come out of his room, or tries to escape and leave Gotham every chance he gets. He never gets far, but he keeps trying, and he never opens up to anyone in the batfam, not even Alfred.

He's just a kid who lost everything he worked so hard for, everything he tried to hide from his biological mother and her assassin league who tried to keep whatever he had left. Now that kid is fueled by nothing but pure, revolting hatred for the people who took even that from him.

Basically like Dark Danny, but way more powerless and fully human.

[Okay that's enough of me rambling.]

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #dcxdp #danny and damian are twins

2K notes · View notes

anothermansjeans · 25 days

Note

Heyy Idk if this is how you request but we'll see......

Could you maybe do like a singer!reader who writes like dirty af songs abt Spencer and then Penelope shows the song to the rest of the team and they all start low-key bullying him and continue making comments abt it while on a case or something like that??

<33

XOXO-

~W~

okay i don't know any DIRTY DIRTY songs so i apologize if this isn't that great 😭 let me know if you want another one that shows different songs! ALSO I IMAGINE THE READER SINGING A DIFFERENT OUTRO TO NONSENSE EVERY NIGHT JUST LIKE MS SABRINA CARPENTER

cw: implied sex, reader talks sings about getting head and being handcuffed

wc: 610

masterlist

“Oh, hey pretty boy.”

Spencer walked into the bullpen to see the majority of the team huddled around Derek’s desk with amused looks on their faces. He tentatively continued his walk, but immediately froze in place when he heard the video playing from the computer.

“This song’s catchier than chickenpox is.

I bet your house is where my other sock is.

Woke up this morning, thought I’d write a pop hit.

How quickly can you take your clothes off, pop quiz?

My man’s IQ is one-eighty-seven.

When he’s going down on me I’m in Heaven.

Handcuff me to the bed like I’m a felon.”

Her laughs could be heard from the video, and Spencer’s face immediately turned fifty shades of red.

“So, where were you last night, Reid? You know, when you said you couldn't join us for drinks.”

He rolled his lips into his mouth at Emily’s question. Everyone had an expecting look except for Penelope… She seemed guilty. “I uh, I was at a concert…”

“What concert?” JJ’s question was presented as innocent, but it was everything but that.

“My girlfriend’s,” he mumbled lowly, barely loud enough for them to hear.

“Could you repeat that?”

Spencer glared at Derek, he knew exactly what he was doing. “My girlfriend’s.”

“Well hot damn, you finally admitted it!”

“I wasn't keeping it a secret. I'm just not as open about my love life as the rest of you are.” He huffed and brought himself over to his desk.

“Well, Garcia was kind enough to show us a video she found online and we didn't know what to expect… who else has an IQ of one-eighty-seven?”

Spencer whipped his head over to Penelope with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry!” Her hands went up in her defense. “I just– I love her music and I couldn't make it to the concert in D.C last night so I was watching videos that people took and it doesn't take a genius to know who she's talking about when we know you so well.” Her words were quick, and she was huffing to breathe when she finished her sentence.

Spencer groaned and put his head in his hands.

“I think my favorite song of hers is Nasty.”

Spencer winced at Emily’s words as everyone else laughed. They definitely are going to have a field day with him.

“I love Espresso.” The humor in JJ’s voice was evident.

“So It Goes… and Guilty as Sin? might be the top contenders for me,” and Derek just has to add on. “Tell us, Reid, are scratches down your back?”

Spencer stood up and went towards the coffee machine, ignoring the laughs and references they were making. He was allowed about three minutes of solace before Penelope hesitantly tapped his shoulder with a shy look on her face. “We got a case. Everyone’s at the round table.” He gave a nod at her words and followed her, ears perking up when he heard her singing under her breath, “don't want to wait on it. Tonight, I wanna get nasty.”

He suppressed the groan waiting to come out, and sat down at the table when he felt a buzz in his pocket.

Y/N: made it to philly!! love you, be safe today. text me whenever you're free 🫶

He was about to message back before Hotch walked in, “We’re going to brief as quickly as possible. We're headed to Philadelphia.”

He knew Penelope knew the next stop on Y/N’s tour, and could feel her eyes boring into the side of his face. He was mentally preparing for the jokes as soon as they stepped out of the conference room.

songs that i imagined reader wrote about spencer:

nonsense by sabrina carpenter

nasty by ariana grande

espresso by sabrina carpenter

so it goes... by taylor swift

guilty as sin? by taylor swift

dress by taylor swift

#spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #dr spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds

563 notes · View notes

cherryredstars · 1 month

Note

Hey sweetie hoping you're doing well

What about a college au where Miguel is a punk and reader is a smarty coquette? And Miguel is very teasing with her to catch her attention... Very enemies to lovers (with smut)

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Fluff, Penetrative Sex, Slight Mentions of Bondage

Summary: He loves how you wear your ribbons.

A/N: This request is so cutesy!! I hope you're doing well too, love!

Unedited

You hate him.

Which hurts you to say because you really do try your best not to hate anyone. But Miguel O'Hara makes it very easy to hate someone. You're just so tired of him! It's like he makes it his life mission to make you angry. Which makes you even more mad because he likes seeing you angry because he just loves making fun of how you look when you're mad!

He's always trying to annoy you. He finds it hilarious to pull on the ends of your bows, making them uneven and loose. You have to spend well over 5 minutes trying to fix your hair while he snickers about it. He's always pulling you back by tugging on your necklace of the day, maybe even pulling the ends of your styled hair. To him, there is always something nasty to point out about your carefully crafted outfits, let it be the quaint design, the ruffles, or even the freaking soft color of it. He finds some sick enjoyment in messing up your aesthetic notebooks and pens, removing the small decorations off of them when you're not looking or dirtying them with graphite stains. He always has to comment about something. He's making fun of the stuff he sees you liking on social media when he's being nosy. Has to tell you how utterly trash your music taste is as a Lana Del Ray song is sung under your breath. Can't let you have an ounce of peace when you talk about how badly you want the new Sonny Angels collection or looking for a specific Calico Critters set. Don't even get him started about all the pastel, cute items you have saved on Pinterest or on your home decor wish list.

But honestly, Miguel is a sucker for everything about you. He's constantly on his knees every time you walk into the lecture hall wearing your frilly skirts and dresses. Damn near collapses of a heart attack when he pulls on the silky bows in your hair or on your necklaces and the sweet smelling perfume you wear hits his nose. He's itching to steal one of your pens so he can have it everywhere he goes or taking a peak into your notebook to look at the dainty notes you are so concentrated on taking. He likes peering into your ribbon-filled world, trying to understand the 'relatable' posts you like about your favorite things. His browsing history is of the little toys you keep mentioning, an occasional search for room decor breaking the stream of Sonny Angels links. He has that one Lana Del Ray Album that you keep singing saved to his music app, and he much prefers your covers.

He finds luck where you find despair. While he loves the fact your professors always pair you two together because of your smarts, you find dread in knowing you can't escape him throughout the weekdays. You always have a pout on your glossy lips as you reluctantly take your seat neck to him, your tote bag falling on the long desks with a thump to further emphasize your mood. It makes him chuckle, seeing your obvious dislike of being around him. It makes his heart skip a beat every time you turn to him, warning him in a low whisper to not get on your nerves today. In turn, he should be telling you not to distract him. He can't count how many times he's stopped paying attention to the lecture because he's watching you reapply your lip gloss or fix your hair from the corner of his eyes. He's paralyzed for a good minute when you spray your perfume, leaning his arm the slightest bit out so the smell can cling to his leather jacket throughout the day.

But he finds himself the luckiest when he's walking through your dorm room for a project, taking in the distinct smell of you and a room that looks exactly like your Pinterest boards. He isn't exactly sure how it happens, but one second your notebooks are sprayed out against the covers of your bed, and the next they're a crumpled mess on your floor as he has you pinned under him. Your soft bed sheets have nothing on your skin as his rough hands travel up your legs and arms, pulling down the straps of your dress and untying them from the back. He's never been more in love with your bows than the moment your dress slips off your body to reveal the small bows decorating your underwear. It makes him groan as he slips them off your body, making a mental note to please take them home with him when he's done.

As much as he loves the ribbons in your hair, he can't help but think how pretty you look when your hair falls around your shoulders. He much prefers the look of the silk ribbon around your wrists, making sure the ends are even and the bow is tied in perfect loops. Your glossy lips look divine as they drop open in a moan as he pushes into your tight cunt, obsessed with the way your walls pulsate around his leaking cock. And the way you call out his name in that wobbly tone, so different from the low hisses you usually give him, has him gritting his teeth to will himself not to shoot his load so soon. His mind is as loopy as your bows when he buries his face in your neck, huffing at the smell of vanilla cherry and sweat and sex on your skin. He feels like he's in paradise, and even the low tones of Lana's voice filling the room doesn't take away anything from the moment.

Don't question him when that pink ribbon around your wrists goes missing after this, because there is no way in hell he isn't taking that home with him too.

Part 2

956 notes · View notes

zarnzarn · 9 months

Text

i see all these comments talking about this after the new episode, but. i would like to state for the record that stolitz isn't. toxic.

first off, the concept of a toxic and a healthy relationship are such... vague terms. when you're online, drenched in language and tight moral boundaries, trying to put a nuanced story like helluva boss's into boxes is easy to attempt and impossible to do.

a toxic relationship is one where one or both parties is maliciously affecting the other. I'm talking fetid, nasty, rude interactions where there is more hurt than love. they're unhappy more often than not when they're with their partner, there's no respect or give from the other side.

stolitz is nothing like that.

Stolas actively cares about Blitz and actually has no fear or hesitation in ADMITTING IT OUT LOUD TO OZZIE. he has been calling, texting, commenting, laughing and finding ways to spend time with Blitz. he's throwing everything he has to the wind, finding the courage to move forward with the divorce, putting everything he has into trying to keep him. he's been alone in a palace since he was born, on medication, with such less people dear to him that he remembered the circus boy who spent a day with him DECADES ago- so when blitz comes into his life and brings back in laughter and color and sex, he's holding on with everything he's got.

and blitz does care!!! he cares a LOT, the whole series we see him falling in love with stolas through SHOW NOT TELL (his expressions, his choices, his fear, his lashing out) and utterly unable to process that stolas cares about him too when talking to fizz; almost a desperate kind of denial-

cause yknow. the first time he tried to confess something to someone he really liked, he accidentally killed half the people he knew and ruined the lives of the rest?

thats gonna leave just a teensy impact on the will to express your emotions in the future, methinks.

even before that, he clearly felt like on some level that he was unworthy and he's said twice that he despises himself for the accident even though it wasn't actually his fault. being self aware doesn't stop the emotions from emotioning.

he keeps insisting its only sex so urgently to anyone who doesn't ask because he can't even imagine it being anything else. he's both disappointed and relieved when he repeats that stolas sees him as a novelty, because what else can it be?

(there's a whole other spiel of how brave both Stolas and Blitz have to be to say it out loud even when asmodeus can't afford to, considering how publically and completely beaten down both were at the club.)

(there's also another whole spiel about how frustrating it has been for ME to see all these comments over time with such bad takes based on like,, 20 min worth of info of a show that takes months to release an ep. like godDAMN have some patience?? let the story UNFOLD MAYBE? IT WAS ALWAYS GOING TO HAVE AN EXPLANATION WHY WOULD YOU CRITICIZE THINGS THAT ARENT EVEN FINISHED ESPECIALLY AN INDIE ANIMATION- i digress)

mind you, this has NOTHING to do with abuse. an abusive relationship is one where one is actively harming the other with full awareness. Stella is an abuser and their marriage is abusive.

and stolitz isn't that; it isn't even unhealthy or toxic. it's a consensual, transactional fuckbuddy relationship that slid into something more for both of them.

but!!!!! one of the main reasons for the problems that everyone looks over is-

they're in a BDSM relationship.

I can't possibly delve into dynamics without making this a 10k research paper BUT even though we've gotten only hints and costumes and dialogue- they're very clearly and undeniably in a BDSM contract. Behind the scenes of this crazy show is a whole different story, of these two delving into the most hardcore kinks out there- knifeplay, painplay, bondage.

if you've gotten into the community, if you've read a couple dozen particularly good fics by authors who know what they're talking about, hell; even if your only experience is fifty shades or 365 or whatever- you gotta know that BDSM scenes are crazy fucking emotionally heavy. there's so much that has gone down between them during their full moons that helluva can't get into!!

but you know how in so many of these popular medias and fics, the dom in the relationship is also like,, the billionaire/mafia heir/prince, etc, the one with financial and physical power? this isnt that. it has been very clearly stated that stolas is subbing, blitz is domming.

now take a moment and think about how much that fucks up the dynamics.

in stolas' eyes, blitz is a confident, dangerous individual who's an old friend and cherished memory of his, who he's trusted wholly with his safety during sex and he's lucky to have; and he has been in an abusive arranged marriage for the past eighteen Years, he's probably not going to be pushing his luck with his dom that much in the first place. plus, blitz is never cowed by him during their conversations- think back to the first phone call right after he stole the book, completely unafraid.

and for blitz, it's someone trusting him again- but it's also a royal- a blue blood who's nearly untouchable and so much more powerful- who couldn't possibly like a piece of shit like him, apart from the sex he gets out of it. he only flirts once he gets some sort of cue from Stolas; he's desperately trying to view this as only a Goetia trying to get his rocks off, despite all the evidence to the contrary, because anything else is unfathomable to him, no matter how clearly Stolas shows it, because of the ptsd.

both of them thinks the other has the power. both of them aren't expecting the other to keep shut if something's bothering them.

and there's so much conflicting messages from the other too!

stolas calls him a plaything when trying to intimidate the humans; stolas cups his face gently and asks if he's alright

blitz asks him on a date and tells him to get better soon; blitz yells that it's only sex and doesn't reply to his messages

ya see?

bring it to fizzozzie for a second now; even though they do look all good on surface, you can still see fizz's trauma and doubt in all their interactions, they're still forced to keep the relationship secret. do you see his face when Ozzie says in hyperbole that he's never leaving the house again, or when someone accuses him of being a pampered house pet or when he got sexualized in the 7th ep? whatever happened in the interim between the accident with mammon, it fucked him UP. even though oz seems to be well aware of this when he tells him not to apologise and in their general interactions, fizz still visibly has trouble separating plaything/commodity from healthy relationship.

shout the fuck out to Ozzie btw, man knows whats UP. rooting for these two so much omg.

i forgot where I was going with this point, I'll edit it when i remember. but yeah! lovely fucking relationship, but damn what angst filled issues.

anyway, to sum up- stolitz is not a toxic relationship. the relationship is stuck sludging through misunderstandings and careless microaggressions and trauma responses, but it's not unhealthy or toxic because of the simple reason that most of the current hurt comes from... a misunderstanding. stolas didn't realise blitz would need reassurance about what they were and blitz didn't see stolas as someone who could get hurt.

unecessarily calling it toxic, even online, is more impactful than people think too. almost all spindlehorse ARE on all social medias; so MANY YouTube animators i know have found jobs there; they see your words, especially since a lot don't tag posts with "anti hb" correctly to keep them out of the main tag. there are Very few queer medias made BY queer people that haven't gone through heavy corporate revisions- helluva boss is practically a historical landmark in its success. it's very very very fucking easy to forget that not ten years ago some of the only queer videos on YouTube were butter lover (one kiss at the end post credits), dirty paws and welcome to hell (subtext).

the amount of "critical talk" helluva boss gets for what it is is very unprecedented. it's a beautiful show. can't wait for the next episode.

#helluva boss #stolas #blitz #stolitz #fizzarolli #helluva boss ozzie #okay im gonna make SO much content but i had to get this off my chest first #because so many people were like omg fizzozzie is so healthy stolitz take a lesson!!#and theres so much more nuance to it thats its so. frustrating to see a statement like that #meta #anyways #i love this fucjing show

2K notes · View notes

ginevrapng · 10 months

Text

the first time james saw you he lost interest in any other girl, you just looked so soft, so adorable. he wanted to keep you all to himself, away from prying eyes. before you he would tell people he doesn't have a type because before you he didn't, now though, well it's a different story, he just wants to wrap his arms around your plush waist and never let you go. he would gladly die between your thick thighs, buried between them.

one day you came into class and he figures that you must have run out of clothes to wear so you had to wear some of your old ones and that may have been one of the happiest days in his life. your shirt too tight and your skirt too short. he could see how the fabric and buttons of the shirt was struggling to stay covering your chest and your skirt short enough that james could see light stretch marks covering your skin, but also long enough to not cause a scene. no one else took notice of your attire that day, but james did. he couldn't help it, and he swears he tried to look away but he just couldn't, you're just so beautiful. he felt like a creep but he couldn't pay attention to anything else, he wanted to delicately trace your stretch marks with his fingertips. he wanted to do things that he'd never say out loud.

james wants to pull you down into his lap while he see's you making your way to your own table in the great hall. he wants to feel your body pressed against his and smell your sweet perfume. he knows you'd complain about being too heavy, he's overheard you mention it before, about how you think you're too heavy to get picked up or be on top of someone. james wants to impress you, to show you that he can, because of course he can pick you up and of course you're not too heavy for him, you're perfect the way you are and he's strong enough to lift anything and everything. he'd carry you with one hand all the way up a mountain if it would impress you and get you to notice him.

he wants to pinch your chubby cheeks and wants to kiss your forehead. he wants you.

his friends obviously notice this new attraction james has towards this girl but chosen not to mention, that is until he started to constantly bring you up and gushes to them about how perfect and cute you are. this getting very mixed reviews from his friends, lily having pity for you, aware of how he gets when he likes someone, sirius constantly teasing him about you, mary saying how nice you sounded, remus seemed mostly indifferent to the whole thing, marlene telling him to make a move. if james was honest he didn't take much notice of the teasing or the annoyance that they had because he kept bringing you up, he just needed to tell everyone about how amazing you are.

james knows how to pine after a girl and god does he do exactly that and he makes that very known to you. at first you were wary and skeptical of this sudden attention the famous gryffindor quidditch captain bestowed on you, he was one of the most popular students in hogwarts but after a while james broke down your walls with his charming smile and his acts of kindness, walking you to classes and pulling pranks on anyone who says nasty comments about you weight.

soon enough you end up in wrapped in red and gold on your way to support him in a match, his scarf keeping you warm from the harsh weather. after his win you end up running into his arms, congratulating him as he spins you around, you complain that he's sweaty, causing him to chuckle.

cupping your cheek, he lowers his voice and whispers to you, "you're my good luck charm, 'course i won." your face heats up and you shyly smile up at him. "what would i do without my good luck charm. you wanna be m' good luck charm always doll? wanna be mine?" he tucks some of your hair behind your ear, leaning in even closer, " 'cause i'm already yours. no one else for me doll." soon enough you accept to be his girlfriend, on the condition that he takes a shower straight away.

3K notes · View notes

mvrtaiswriting · 1 year

Note

Hey! Someone suggested your blog for one piece and I decided to check it out!

I’d also like to make a request

How would the monster trio(+katakuri if you wanna write for him) be with a s/o who always looks at them as if asking them for permission to beat some one up (you can add anyone else if you want) f!reader or gn! Reader whichever one

Headcanons pls<3

Have a great day!

Monster trio + Ace, Law and Usopp with a s/o who looks at them before fighting someone.

hullo, thanks for requesting this! i unfortunately dont write for katakuri but i added law and ace to the mix, i hope it's fine! enjoy this lil headcanons, i loved writing these!! also, using this as a chance to restate that requests are open!

warning: none. gn! reader.

feel free to reblog, like, and leave a comment. i would very much appreciate it. if you enjoy my works, click here to read more or buy me a coffee.

Luffy: All it takes is a glare. It doesn't take long for Luffy to recognise the sparkle in your eyes. He feels it too; the tension building in your muscles, the adrenaline rising up in your veins making your heart beat ten times faster than usual. Lowering his straw-hat to cover his eyes, Luffy simply chuckles in response. He knows your potential and he is curious of the limits your able to reach and break. He takes this as a good opportunity to train and test your powers; nevertheless, he is watching your back and ready to step in.

Sanji: Sanji smirks and lights up a cigarette, making himself comfortable and untying his tie. He knows well that whoever crosses your path is in real danger - and he brags about it whenever he has the occasion to. He is overly proud of you; plus, winning a fight would always guarantee a special treatment from him. Preparing your favourite meal, smothering you in kisses, an endless ramble of praises. He enjoys the fight, making sure you don't get hurt as he meticulously observe your combat moves.

Zoro: Zoro tries to make you back off. Despite his love and respect for you, he would rather let you stay away from the battlefield. He is aware of your combat abilities, he just thinks it would be easier if you'd let his swords deal with it. Nevertheless, it's easy to convince him if you buy him an extra bottle of booze. After all, despite his protective instincts, he enjoys a partner who can fight and protect themselves. Seeing you go feral and win a fight always tickles his senses.. so you might be in for a good, particularly nasty training session afterwards.

additional characters:

Law: Law definitely doesn't approve your conflictual nature. Although he is a little trouble maker himself, he prefers approaching things, and fights, in a more methodical way - having a precise strategy, and more importantly, a reason. Getting caught up in a worthless fight would mean catching the marine's attention, and that would be dangerous. When he sees you joining the battlefield regardless, he sighs and stands back. But if you manage to get hurt.. be ready to hear him grumble under his breath about irresponsible you were as he medicates you.

Ace: You and Ace would meet looks, the same impulsive idea running through the synapses of your brain. He nods in response, a clever smirk drawing on his lips as he transforms the ramble in a challenge.

"First one to land a punch wins."

Usopp: Tries to discourage you from it. He knows you would be perfectly able to win the fight - but he also knows he would struggle to help you. Your fearless nature worries Usopp, and sometimes it makes him wonder how the two of you get so along. Dangerous situation fuel you, whilst he prefers running from them. Usopp would never give you the permission to battle someone if the situation permits a safe escape - a long, frustrated sighs is the only slightly positive answer you could receive. And when you jump head first in the battle, he whines and snorts, ready to snipe the enemy if the situation escalates.

2K notes · View notes

cyrusthedragon · 11 months

Text

Mother of his child

Explicit ‼️ MDNI ‼️ NSFW 18+

I promised and I did: Simon sucks his wife's titties while talking about a big happy family with her.

Relationship: Simon Ghost Riley / f!Reader

Tags: porn with plot, dominance, married couple, rough sex, established relationship, breastfeeding, creampie, LOTS of dirty talk, some of spit play, LOTS of milk, LOTS of breeding, LOTS of 'mama'-calling, nasty stuff, happy family fluff for aftercare, size kink, sex after some time, no "Ghost", babying Simon.

Simon Riley really loves his wife, like... possessively. Almost obsessively.

Notes:

f!Reader gained weight after giving birth, and she has too much milk. Greedy and perverted Simon can't think about her selling her milk to people who have feeding problems. He's jealous.

You and Simon serve(d) together.

(Kinda, cuz it's funny, but not actually) Bossy!Reader in the end.

You and Simon have a newborn child.

Trigger warning: English isn't my first language, so, please, write a comment if I did a good job, I need to know if it's good, cuz I'm not really sure. But i enjoyed writing it! You can subscribe to me, I'll write a lot more about him! And I take requests, hehehe, especially most dirty ones. So. Please, enjoy ♥️

AO3

"You'll bore a hole in me..." you said under your breath, touching baby girl with just your fingertips and not taking your eyes off of her.

Simon immediately straightened his back, paying attention to the book in his hands again, and you chuckled softly:

"What's going on in your mind, baby?"

Silence in the room, only a soft melody from somewhere in the house, and the three of you sitting in your bedroom: you, feeding your precious baby girl, she, smacking from the delicious milk, and your husband, trying to pretend he's reading his book. Considering how he didn't touch a single page for the last fifteen minutes, he was either repeating that one spread or trying to memorize it all.

Or just being a pervert.

It's Simon we're talking about, no one on Earth would ever suspect him of thinking about something nasty, but... You were his wife. Mother of his child.

You knew there was something in those blue eyes of his - he looked at you exactly like that one day when you... When you decided to have a child.

You weren't, actually.

It was an accident.

But when you told him about your pregnancy and asked if you should take a Plan B, for one moment after that horrific word, he looked at you, almost shaking from nervousness, with something in his eyes that you recognized as a... Reluctance? "Yeah," he cleaned his throat, moved his gaze away because, obviously, the floor was way more interesting than a damn pregnancy test in your hands, "yes, you're right, Plan B... We shouldn't.. we should, uh...". Words have never been one of his strengths, if you were not in bed.

You looked at him trying very hard to say something, and one thing in him just matched you so perfectly, that for one second you thought maybe.. maybe...

"Can we keep-"

"What if we..."

You said it at the same time, and neither you nor he understood who was saying what, but the excitement was so loud, that you couldn't resist impulses to grab his hands. Neither could he help but stretch out his arms to you and hold you to give you a hug, even if he himself was just as terribly scared.

That shit was scary. No doubt.

It would not have been that horrifying if not for these thoughts of yours. Common.

"If we..." you heard Simon speaking, felt him swallowing loudly, "Maybe, if.. maybe we can..."

"Can keep it?" you helped, squeezing him with all your strength just to feel yourself safe. "You think we can?.."

"I think... I think I want to, but.."

"You want?"

And that was the moment when you moved away a little to look him straight in the eyes, seeking there for something you weren't sure exactly what.

"Yes?.." he answered under his breath. As freaked out as you were. Of course, he was. Both of you were soldiers, to the core. No one of you ever dares to dream about having a baby... It's a huge responsibility, and neither he nor you thought you could handle it, that's why you always used protection to minimalize your chances. It doesn't mean you didn't want to - hell yes you wanted, especially with Simon, and the more you got to know him, the better you understood he wanted this, too.

A family.

A real family, bonded with each other, someone you can hold in your hand and give all your love, all your affection, untapped awe for having something you and Simon created together. Holy hell, you married a dead man, did you think you had no strength for a little human? Just a baby? It took almost half of a year for you and Simon to finally get married, you took his last name and did it with all your patience, although the boys in one-four-one started calling you Mrs. Riley a long time before you became Mrs. Riley, and all these troubles, years of waiting for something with him, all this situationship, candy-bouquet period, all of it...for being afraid of having a child? It can't be that ha-

You were selfish.

Thinking about yourself, not your baby, who would most likely live alternately with one parent, then with the other - depending on which one of you would be called for a mission. You knew it. You knew you can have your parental leave, for twelve weeks, and, and, and...

"..ve. Love!" you shuddered - Simon rarely used to raise his voice at you, and often it was because of how easily you were distracted by thinking about something very important to you. You lose your patience when you were afraid of something. You blinked, looked up at him, and suddenly he was so calm that you were immediately infected by his calmness, without realizing it. "Breathe, love," he whispered, holding your face in his palms, so huge compared to your head. "Do you want to keep her?" and when he asked, looking you dead in the eyes, he already knew your answer, but...

You breathed out: "Her?"

Eyes to eyes, one very important dialogue without a single word between you, your shiny to his bright, deep ocean blue. "I want a girl," he whispered, not even blinking. "I want a boy", you said lowing your voice to match his, and he nodded, pulling you closer to touch your forehead with his. "Then... Let's see who it will be," Simon's lips were so close to yours, you half closed your eyes, pressed your lips into a tight line, and then closed them completely when he murmured in your mouth before kissing you full of his endless gratitude: "...shall we?"

And that was it.

You lost your little bet and were very happy about it.

The little one was happy, too, sucking milk, already ready for her beauty sleep, so beautiful, and a bit... sassy, biting your swollen nipple with per pink gums, making you hiss and chuckle softly. She had her father's shiny eyes. Your love. Your precious child.

"Simon, darling, you're staring." You finally moved your eyes from your daughter to your husband, smiled at him and he could no longer pretend he was reading his book. He wasn't. "Am I?" you heard him sighing, but his gaze started to be a little more... heavier than a second before you decided it was enough for baby girl and took her away from your chest. "Yes, darling, you are," your voice softened, small one whined, lying on the bed, twitching her hands and feet, and you giggled: "What a greedy creature... Never enough for her." But she quickly calmed down - the music changed to a comforting lullaby... You could finally get up and stretch your legs, fix your dressing gown, and move to Simon, sitting on the armchair.

"You didn't answered my question."

Baby monitor right behind your girl, and you allowed yourself to go straight to the kitchen - hungry as hell, while Simon simply followed your steps God knows why.

"What question?" He asked, watching you getting your snacks.

Bare feet, loose hair, mid-thigh gown, and the wet spots in it, right in front of your nipples. You're still leaking. And mouth-watering. And holy shit he just can't stop looking at your covered chest, how heavy your breasts are, how they freely jiggle when you're just moving. "Simon." he can't hear you, all his nature is focused there where your nipples touch your closes, these eyes are wild. You watched him, busy analyzing your chest or whatever, and didn't get yet the hell was wrong, but it's Simon, so... Whatever he was thinking about he would tell you, sooner or later.

But you didn't expect 'sooner' will be that...soon.

You turned your back to him to find something in the fridge and gasped when he suddenly lifted you, sitting you on the table, face to him. "Riley, the hell are you?!-" and then you met his eyes again.

Truly, wild.

"What? Eat your food, love." his voice was strange, he completely was strange, something just cracked in you, a blush appeared in your cheeks immediately, then he pulled back the gown and your hand trembled, accidentally dropping a snack on the floor.

He bared your chest with a face like nothing happened, and you swallowed your tongue like a proper coward, did not know how - did not want to - stop him and did not even try to interrupt whatever he was going to do. You felt the shivers down your spine - his hands on your ribs, fingertips almost tickling you, forcing you to smile, but there was nothing to smile about, just your husband being odd and making your legs shake with just his hands.

God, you didn't touch him for almost six months...

"I can't," you whispered, shutting your eyes while feeling his hand off you and somehow knowing for sure he was pulling his mask up to his nose.

"Why?" The hoarse voice of his just drove you crazy. Your brain was about to explode with this sudden satisfaction he brought to you by massaging your torso and jelly belly, and you couldn't answer properly: "Because you... What are you... Just take what you want already." You hissed, and maybe it would be fear for him to feel embarrassed by your tone and hands, hugging his head, but he did not care anymore or simply did not understand that, so he just... Did it.

You felt his wide tongue in front of your nipple.

And you inhaled.

"Simon... Simon, what are you doing, Simon..."

Your voice was less caring than you wanted it to be, and he didn't even look at you to answer: "Joining you to eat a snack."

"Oh I'm a snack now, wonderful..." words came out of your mouth before you shut it, "You little pervert, are you seriously going to su-... Oh, god."

Tongue swept all over your breast before Simon straightened up to his full height - and even though you were sitting on the table, he had to tilt his head to look at you. Giant. His gaze was much heavier than before, his pupils bigger, his brows furrowed to let you know, he was ashamed of you:

"That's how your talking to a baby, love?" Simon murmured and you did not even try to believe what you heard. He continued, seeing your confusion: "I see... I'm no longer your baby, am I?"

"Wha-.."

Oh.

'"What's going on in your mind, baby?"'

So that's what it was all about.

"You pervert," you said, watching him laying you down on the table and towering over you like he was some kind of mountain of muscles. This whole situation was quite crazy, and you swallowed, losing all your boldness just because of how dominant he became, taking your hands in his one so tightly that you couldn't move your fingers if you wanted to. Breath-taking Simon. First, you met on your first night together. A completely different person than what you usually see. His gaze was on you, examining you - how the fabric glided effortlessly over your body, showing up your ribs, tummy, chubby sides (you gained some weight after giving birth and were a little worried about it, but the way he cravingly looked at your fat...), your white panties, already wet for him. Of course, you were wet. He was between your legs, holding your hands, ready to eat you up.

"'Baby?..'" you whispered under him, trying to move your feet, but his other hand grabbed your knee abruptly and pushed it aside, leaving you completely open to him. "Don't try to hide, mama," you gasped at his words, heart started beating faster, and his head lowered to touch your belly with his lips. Soft and full. "It's nothing you need to be ashamed of.. if it's not me. Are you ashamed of me, mama?". Impossible, how he affected you with this damn 'mama' spoken by his powerful, quiet voice, "You don't need to be ashamed. Didn't you say today that your breasts are full? Don't you remember?".

You swallowed your saliva, chest up and down, and your voice cracked when Simon slightly touched underneath your filled breast, "I said we can sell it... There are many people with.. problems with.. with feeding. Simon, what are you-"

"Stop asking. You don't trust me?"

"I do, but-"

"No 'but'."

You should've said something, but when he grabbed your tit with his wide palm, compressed your nipple lightly between the index and middle fingers, everything that was in your head vanished immediately. Milk ran out over his fingers, to his wrist, and tangled in his short hair above the tattoo. "So easily, mama," he murmured, following the drop of your milk, "you're so full.. and you wanna give this to someone else? You wanna take it away from our daughter? Deprive her of that, mama? Is that what you want for her?"

You just said there's too much milk in you, useless milk, because your girl never starved, but the mere idea of giving part of you to someone who wasn't his child, just made him so, so jealous. You choked - Simon pulled your nipple with his fingers as if in punishment.

"No, no, of course not, I just wanted..."

And then the moon fell:

"You can give it to me." Your eyes widen in shock. And you saw him raise his milk-stained hand and watched his tongue follow the line from elbow to finger, licking your juice. "Sweet..." He murmured, "So sweet, so delicious..." And before you even realized, he sat you up at that table, wrapped his hand around you, and pressed his open, greedy mouth to your milking breast, moaning, like it was the best thing he ever tasted. A cry escaped your lips, you instantly grabbed his head, closed your eyes tightly - your nipples were so, so sensitive after feeding, and now he almost ate 'em. Shivers ran through your body, every cell was tense, trembling legs closed behind his back, as if locking him with a fuckin' padlock pressed against your body, yet still fully dressed. "Madman," you whined, squeezing the back of his balaclava, "you're a madman, Simon Riley, you're out of your mind...Teeth-!" Your sob forced him to let go of your chest with a loud smack, just like your baby did before, and the marks of his teeth were clearly visible on the soft, full flesh around your nipple.

"Watch your teeth- god, you-" you cried out, almost ready to hit him on the back, but then he, stooped, suddenly looked up at you, so innocent, so open, that something in your gut began to tighten. "Something wrong, mama?" He said, and you miraculously felt how his second hand was lost between your thighs. Breath didn't want to recover, he clung to you, pressing his cheek against your chest, and milk flowed out of you harder.

"No..." You answered, not sure if he's a pervert for calling you 'mama', or you for enjoying it so much, "Nothing wrong, baby... Just.. watch your teeth, okay?" Eyes to eyes, without a blink, you sucked air through your teeth and slowly put your trembling hand at his half-covered cheek, stroking until he closed his eyes, "You want to be good for mama, don't you, baby?"

"Mhm", he whispered, kissing your hand softly.

You didn't know your first sex with Simon after such a long time would be like that, but his finger, just one, was in your underwear and it pressed your clit so good, that you almost lost your mind, tilt you head back.

"I will be good for you, but I'm so mad at you..." Suddenly his voice softened and your hips tensed; his palm was fully in your panties, squeezing your cunt, pressing the middle finger to the entrance.

"Why mad, baby?.."

"I'm so mad you want to give yourself to someone else, mama," and when he opened his eyes, his finger entered you on the first finger phalanx, you hold your breath and bit your lip - you forget how big his fingers were, one of his like two of yours, and there was no lubricant, just your sloppy juices. Every tiny scar on his finger was fully felt, every callus, every cut. "You wanted to share yourself with hell knows who. That's how you feel about us, love? Is that it? Instead of giving everything to your, to my child, our child, you were going to.. what?" finger thrust further, you gasped, he pressed you into himself tighten. One small kiss to your neck and you already was useless, when he lifted you again and whispered in your ear while carrying you to the couch and putting you on his thighs so that you could lay down on him completely naked.

You don't need clothes, do you?

"You were going to waste it, love." He continued. "Instead of calling me, your husband, to help you."

"Help me with what?.. sucking this milk?.."

"Exactly, love."

You would've chuckled, but then there was a crack and your torn panties fell to the floor.

He tore them on you.

Animal.

"Beast..." You whispered, putting your head on his shoulder and feeling him squeezing your tits once more with both his hands.

"Me?" Simon's soft laughter was almost unbelievable, "No, no... I'm not. You are. A little cow, mama. Leaking your sweet milk. Just like a cow. Allowing me to drink it..." he pressed his face into your chest, threw you back, milk splashed from your nipples and hit him right on the balaclava, "What a mess you are. You're looking? Look carefully." fingers squeezed one nipple, twisted, pulled, milk splashed in all directions, flowed all over your chest and down to your torso, and his hands, warm, making you whine and mumble in pain in half with pleasure, just like a cow. "Oh love, and not just here. Don't take your eyes off, watch how wet you are, you ruined my clothes," his second hand went down to your groin, suddenly you wanted to cover yourself, but his middle and index fingers had already opened your vulva, revealing his hungry gaze your lower lips. "Look at you, you're soaking, mama... Do you hear it? That's your sound."

The sloshing of your juices as he circled around your entrance, the crackling of his clothes as you squeezed his shoulders, your whimpering as he purposely ignored your hard clit - all this cacophony was his symphony for your ears, and only yours.

"You sound so well, love..."

"Simon.. Simon, please, Simon..."

"What 'please'?"

"Simon, please, I want to kiss you..."

"Kiss me then."

"No! No! Please, Simon, I want to kiss you so bad... Please let me just-" and your shaking fingers touched the edges of his balaclava, throwing aside.

Scars.

Scars all over his face.

His bright eyes, his short blond hair, and all these scars made him look way older than he was. Breath-taking Simon.

You couldn't resist the impulse to praise him like he always secretly loved:

"You're so beautiful..." Fingers ran over his cheeks, cheekbones, brows, nose, lips, so kissable, you pressed your mouth to his with a hiss, feeling Simon again in you with his whole finger. "Damnit, baby..." You said, silencing him by taking his tongue with yours.

His hand on your ass, his finger fucking you, so tight girl, he loves feeling your walls around him, up and down - you got up on him, fucking yourself with his finger, and lowered to feel how he put his second finger to your entrance. Your breath hitched as he broadened your entrance, slowly pushing himself inside. Juices sloshing, his panting against your neck, his other hand gripping your ass so hard it threatened to bruise it, and his fingers fucking you like he was re-examining you - twisting the hand, pushing in, speeding up and massaging your inner lips and your clit, making you moan so loud, thank god rooms were soundproof. "I want to be inside you so bad, mama..." You heard him, hissing in your skin, biting it with his sharp teeth, you could've just hugged him tighten, "So wet, so delicious, look at you, how beautiful you are, ready to carry my second child...are you ready, mama?"

"Second child?.." you whispered barely audible, eyes watering from his aggressive pounding, and almost whining when the sound of unfastening the belt reached your ears and the cold steel of its plate touched your hot skin.

"Of course," and he didn't even stop pounding you, that dirty pervert; pulled his boxers down, letting the cool air touch the head of his cock. Red, wet head. Big. Thick. You didn't have to look at it to instantly lower your palms down and, howling like a wild dog, grab his cock with your both hands. "Fuck, love..." He cursed, clutching your ass, "You missed me, huh? Did you?"

"I did, I did, so much, baby, so much..." your trembling voice, your confident hands stroking his already hard fat dick, your cunt, shrinking from the memory of how sweetly he filled you that last time before your pregnancy... You, cock-drunk, beneath him, full with his thick hot sperm and covered by it all over your body - your ass, your vulva, your belly, your face; he came so much then, it was your first night together after you both returned from your mission. And now you can have it again... Finally.

"Pink on your cheeks suits you, love," he murmured, stroking your cheek like you did with his, "but I prefer your tears..." and before you even understood, his tongue already was on your face, licking off salty tears, mumbling, moving his hips to you while you jerked him off. "Everywhere... Wet everywhere... Did you always have been such a dirty fat slut?.. Crying, milking, soaking... I can eat you alive. Show me your mouth," he took his hand off your butt, roughly opened your mouth, looked, "Oh, I see... Would you mind, if I-"

And you felt his saliva on your tongue before Simon finished his sentence.

"There you go, such a good girl..."

But he didn't even think about letting you swallow his spit, and while you were trying to get back into rhythm, drunk on his saliva, he threw you onto the sofa, covering you from above, like a goddamn wall: "No, no, don't close your mouth." An animal, a real beast, twice your size, towered over you, mocked you, deprived you of his fingers and you could only helplessly scratch his hands near your head and push your pelvis in him, trying to somehow sit on his cock with your pathetic leaky pussy. "Don't close your mouth, you don't want me to fuck you, mama?" Sly bastard, so different, so cold, so soft for all of them, role model, best fighter, squad pride...Made fun of you, so turned on. You nearly hated him for this, but couldn't deny how you loved him above you.

"I want," trembled lips parted, saliva flowed slowly down your tongue to its root, your heavy breath was the only music for him.

"You want? Then be good for me, and I'll be good for you, mama, your good, good baby boy, mama... I would be anything for you, open your mouth, open it, let me fill you everywhere, will you, please?"

You barely had time to grab his short hair when he pressed his mouth to your mouth, but your tongues did not touch each other, you only shared your breath with him, as you always did, and when the tip of his fat cock touched your entrance, you held your breath, feeling how, along with his length, ripping you apart, widening you, inch by inch, he poured into you also his spit. Thick saliva - that's how hungry he was for you, his mouth was full of this viscous liquid.

"Good mama," words were hard for you, he closed his eyes, stopped at how tight you were, grabbed your leg, and slung it on his belt, thrusting deeper into you. Each vein on his long cock, each brought so much pleasure to extremely tight you... It was nearly impossible to move, but he always was stubborn and even when the drop of sweat ran over his neck, he continued entering you, sadistically slowly. "Relax for me," he almost begged, and you whispered:

"I've already..."

"So that's how tight you actually are, then, huh?" Seems Simon was starting to lose patience, fingers of one hand pressed on the upholstery of the sofa near your head, the second he squeezed your breast as if in revenge: "I almost forgot how it's like...when you're not in the shape of my cock." he sucked in air through clenched teeth, staring into the tears in your eyes, like he wanted to lick them again, "But it's okay..." He continued, thrusting you exactly to halfway of his cock, "We have plenty of time to make you perfect for me again, love. It's okay. I'll fuck you 'til you'll be open for me every time I want to fill you with my cum. You like my cum?" you cried, his heavy hand gave a slap on your ass, "Of course you do... Mama's such a slutty thing, she's always ready for me to cum in her, give her so much of my sperm, so she can give birth to our future big family."

"Big..." You whined about how he was ripping you with his dick, demonically slowly to the very core, to the root. You felt the warmth of his full, heavy balls, as he promised, filled with his cum just for you, and your back arched in an unthinkable angle, as soon as you felt the coarse hair on his groin.

"Yes, love, big family," and even his mumbling reached you with difficulty, you suffered on him, scratched him, beat, squeezed him with your legs, wriggled like a snake, and he hung over you, indestructible, like a rock, tried to take a breath from the pain in the cock. "Me, you, our children, so many children..."

And there was the first thrust.

Right on the nerves.

Until the pitiful cry and eyes rolled back.

Big, big, big-

So fucking big-

"What, you can't handle me anymore?" his hoarse rough voice came from above and your body shook as he thrust into you and slap your thigh, leaving the big red shape of his five fingers. "How you're going to have my children then? Be the mother of my babies, raise 'em, feed 'em with that delicious milk of yours-" Simon compressed one of your nipples again and you choked on a scream as the milk spurted freely up. "Dirty, dirty mama..." Was his only response.

And he fucked you.

To the cries, putting all his strength into you, moaning loud and clear, just like you love, forcing you to beg for his cock, but already fuckin' you, watching your tits jiggle and milk splash everywhere, spoil his clothes, get on your cheeks. To legs shaking, to an exhausted body, growling in your face how much he's going to cum in you so that you burst from his sperm, pregnant with his children, forever, for your whole life, so everyone, every fucking single one from everywhere could see whose are you, who you belong to. This belly, squishy and fatty, this face, these tits, hips, legs, feet, mouth, this milk, and other juices, these eyes, beautiful, beautiful eyes, these delicious lips, this heart and soul - all, all for him and his children, all for the Riley family, all of it for them and no one else, no one fuckin' else. You're trapped here, you're never gonna leave this man and his child, you belong to them with your whole being, you understand that? Do you, mama? Do you understand there's no escape, he would fight Death if that sucker would ever allow himself to at least think about taking you away from Simon; he would fight Death, and he would kill it because no one has the slightest right to take even a piece of you from him.

"Mine," he groaned, sinking his fangs into your neck, suddenly grabbing you by the waist and lifting so that you sat on his cock as tightly as physically possible, and kept fucking you, beating out from you every moan, every deep scratch your nails left on his shoulders as you bathed his neck with your tears. Pressed into each other, like two halves of a whole, crazy, lost in each other, interwoven, and you won’t understand where you begin and he ends. Your cunt hurts, but the pain is so sweet that you're not sure you want to cut it, you're not sure you want him to stop, to be more gentle, not pounding you like a fucking hammer, and the angle is so right - you can feel not just his dick deep inside you, but how your clit is stimulated by him, his rough movements. Oh, this beast, this madman, this insane man... So insane just for you. You cried out, moaned: "Simon... Simon! Simon!" as if it was the only thing you remembered in your life, and the rubbing of your bare nipples against his outer clothing forced you to snuggle closer to him and at the same time as if trying to get away from him.

He was no longer there, he was all inside you, thrusting you like it was his last day, angry, but carrying you so perfectly that you could've let yourself lay on him, and you knew he would never let you fall.

"Simon, Simon, listen, listen to me, please-" your trembling voice almost vanished in all these sex sounds, but he pushed you closer (there was no 'closer') and you simply whined: "Simon, I'm going to cum, I'm going to cum, I'm going to- I want to cum so bad- please, Simon, I wanna cum, I want you to cum, please, cum with me, please-" Your fingers pulled back his hair. You yourself pulled back, arched in your back, and instantly your muscles contracted on his cock, forcing him to fall, falling with you on the soft sofa. A little more and he would've crushed you with his weight, but with a desperate groan he managed to grab your hands and, lacing your fingers together, lean on them to hang over you, not for a second slowing down the speed of his deep, passionate thrusts.

Your useless legs struggled to stay on his lower back, your breasts were shaking painfully and you felt the blessing of heaven when he clung to you, pressed, as tightly as it was physically possible, and instantly squeezed you in both his hands. "Cum for me," he moaned in your ear, his veiny cock almost touched your uterus, but it seemed that if he wanted to, he would fuck your womb just to impregnate you. "Cum for me, mama, let me see how happy you are to be pregnant for me, just for me, showing people how you love me, scream, mama..."

Heavy breathing, deep unforgiving pounds, bursting cock, burning heart, nails scratching his strong broad back, ribs compressed with iron arms - and you, so tiny compared to him, you, so little, so fragile looking in his arms... were ready for anything for this man. "Cum for me," he ordered, grunted, and you tensed on him, squeezed him with all your might to his own loud moan, and tears gushed from your helplessly rolled eyes. His moans, low but beautiful, just for you, were the only thing you heard in your petite mort.

And his seed filling you, hot, thick, was the only thing you felt.

The maddening feeling of being filled with rich cum, his cum, your husband's, your man's, drove you to a silent scream, to open mouth from which no sound came out, and saliva flowing down from the edge of your mouth only to dry on your cheek when you tilted your head back. And as if boiling sperm in you, poured into your insides.

"Greedy mama..." you didn't even come to your senses when you focused your blurred vision on Simon overhanging you, cupping your wet cheek with his large hand. His quiet, purring voice settled in your head like a gooey honey. You could nearly discriminate his words. Not understanding what was happening around, hearing only his voice and feeling only him in you, you were like gutted and thrown into the light while his sweat dripped on you from above, and his heavy breathing only miraculously did not blow you away. "Just like that..." Even his voice cracked, this man couldn't resist the devil, and mumbled inaudibly: "So good for me... So good... Such a good girl..."

Hot seed in you, his weight on you, his warmth all over you, his loud breath and your inner muscles tightening and loosening around him while he, overstimulated, continued moving in you, also overstimulated, and the movements were so...gentle ... So soft... His soft pounds, his smooth swings, almost like trying to rock you, but that orgasm was so blinding, you couldn't breathe, you couldn't concentrate on the outer world, just him and his hands, his hips between your legs, his balls tightly pressed to you, his cock inside you completely... So... Soft... Hot... Your body temperature was almost past its peak... And that gentle touch Simon gave you on your belly, lying his head on your shoulder.

After what he did, you barely remember how carrying he was... This big softie...

"You..." your hoarse voice sounded like you hadn't spoken in at least ten years, there was fuckin' Sahara in your throat, and your eyes couldn't even close from the experienced orgasm, "What you just... What you... Wha-...."

Tied tongue refused to obey.

You literally could not utter a word, only mumbling something incomprehensible.

Boneless.

Dry out.

Dehydrated.

The son of a bitch literally sucked all the juice out of you.

"Si..bl... Bml... Ah......"

And when he, as exhausted as you, pulled away to kiss you on the pink hot cheek, after all, that he had done, you nearly could look at how calm he was.

"You alright, love?"

Blue eyes glanced at you in slight worry, he stroked your wet hair, raised himself with both hands to look at you, but you could not take your eyes off him. You stared at him in disbelief or shock - doesn't matter, you just experienced the nastiest sex in your life, and he was so calm, so confident, like nothing happened, like it was a daily basis for you - being fucked 'til semiconscious state while your husband was 'mama'-calling you and sucking your tits, and, holy shit, did that really-

"Do I..." You swallowed, looking him dead in the eyes, without a single blink. "Do I look like I'm alright?... Do I?... And what happened with 'mama', baby?.. what happened with 'mama'?" suddenly your voice became demanding, insistent, from somewhere you found the strength to weakly hit him in his rock-hard shoulder, and Simon's eyes flashed with shame for a second, then he moved them from you, almost trying to hide, while leaving your core and sitting on the edge of the sofa at your useless boneless legs still shaking from whatever the hell that just was.

He inhaled, "I..."

"Shut up." and he closed his mouth instantly, staring at the floor, even before he heard properly what you said. "You sucked my milk."

"Um..."

"I said shut the fuck up- You just- where are my pills?"

"What?"

The slight surprise in his voice almost pissed you off and it was funny how he almost trembled with fear and tried to shrink under your gaze: he, that behemoth of a man, two meters tall, mountain of muscles, Lieutenant, a brave soldier of the Queen, Chain Dog of Captain Price and Commander Lasswell, trembling under your gaze, your, women half his height, twice as weaker than he ever was, furthermore, unable now to even wake up on her own, move her limbs, he was fuckin' scared-

Indeed.

You did have power over him.

"My pills." You barely raised your voice and he already was on his feet, pulling on his pants and trousers, looking for your plan B.

You watched him, nervously seeking after them, making as much noise in the bathroom as he would never make on a battlefield, and you could almost see his shaking hands turning the whole room upside down.

"We're gonna have a nice long talk about all of it," you heard yourself surprisingly serious, when he came to you with a glass of water and your medicine, helping you, holding your head for you to drink, "we gonna..." you swallowed the pill from his hands, drank all the water from the glass without taking your eyes off him, and exhaled loudly as he kissed your cheek after.

"We're gonna?.." he echoed you and you saw him squatting down next to the couch, against your head, so you could lie down and look him straight in the eyes without getting tired.

"We're gonna clear up your... This. Simon."

"Mhm?"

"Eyes on me."

"They already are, ma'am."

You could've laughed, because he never called you that unless you were extremely serious about small things in your life, no one ever saw him mocking you, or smiling like this, widely and openly, but there were topics you wanted to discuss before admitting that both of you were total perverts, and nothing would even help you clean your conscience from it.

To be fair, you didn't actually want.

You knew he was more playful, more... Different when you were alone, there were demons inside his pretty blonde-haired head, that was true, you knew the man you married, and he never was such a jealous person without any reason, and... You didn't know how, but you were sure this talk about 'sharing with someone else' wasn't just... Dirty talk. There was something else deep inside.

"You're thinking too loud, love," you heard him hawed it out and then felt his strong hands on your aching legs. "Again."

"I'm just... You know what?"

"Mm?"

"We... We should..."

"We should?.."

"We should... Holy hell, Simon... You..."

"I was serious about what I said, love."

Boom.

You tilted your head, met his eyes, moving from your legs to your face.

His deep and at first sight as if almost naive eyes.

"About?..." You whispered, feeling something strange growing inside you with every second he was looking deep into your soul.

Nasty, nasty soul.

"About having a big family." you felt his gentle kiss on your ankle, his head relaxed near your feet, he mumbled, "We already have one pretty girl... I want more. I want... I want to come home... And see a hoard of children running to me... Meeting me... And you... And then I'll sit with them, and you will work, and, imagine... Coming home, where there'll be a bunch of kids, siblings, maybe playing with each other, or arguing, or... Else. Our little world."

"Our little world..."

Unbelievable.

Dreamy, absorbed in his fantasies, soft, affectionate Simon. Telling you about that.

"Even if we could... What if something goes wrong?.." you couldn't resist your fears, not for yourself, but for hypothetical children. "What if... We won't be able to give them what they deserve?.."

And suddenly he smirked:

"I'm not telling you making a second one right now, am I?" your eyes met, your uncertain, and his, surprisingly romantic. "I'm just... Maybe we shouldn't stop at just one. She needs a friend. We were able to do so many things. I will buy a big house somewhere in the middle of nowhere..."

"With a garden and greenhouse?"

"Yep. I will arrange the area. Maybe we can have cows?"

"And chicken."

"And chicken. And..."

And you completed his sentence without looking at him, just knowing what he would say:

"...and have a daydream house with white picket fence and a golden retriever..."

"I prefer Alsatian."

There was something wrong with this man. Who was without a drop of doubt thinking that you two, and now with the third little human, can have that unrealistic happy lovey-dovey life.

Scarred soldiers, hardly married, only a year ago trembling from fear because of the thought that you would have a child in your house, such an irresponsible thing to do- and- and- now-

Now he was saying you can have more, can take responsibility for more people, more little ones- where were the guarantees that he would not die in the field? where were the guarantees that you would not be killed? where there were guarantees that you could become good parents, raise good children, fulfill your duty to them, and remain happy, not break down, challenge life, who stubbornly told you over and over again that you weren't made for this, you simply cannot have this, this isn't for you, and-

There really was something wrong with him.

And maybe, only maybe, there was something wrong with you, too.

Because you believed him.

You believed him with all your being, you trusted him, you knew he would never betray your trust, he would do more than everything to keep his promises, you knew the word "family" wasn't just a sound for him, and you became his family, he did not just wanted kids and that shitty house, fuck it, that wasn't about the house.

All of that was only about you.

Making family with you.

Having kids with you.

Introducing you as his wife, being a father to your kids, calling you the mother of his kids, knew exactly that is your and his blood running in their veins, that's your common children playing in the garden.

And in his face, which for some reason everyone finds impenetrable and dispassionate, you read so much that your heart breaks, your breath hitches, your pulse skips a beat:

Simon Riley doesn't want this house without you. He doesn't want kids without you. He doesn't want any white picket fence, no garden, no greenhouse, nothing without you. It's all is just meaningless for him, if it's without you.

You are that one thing that makes him believe he's unstoppable. You're that one person for whom he wants to try, despite fully understanding how hard, almost impossible it will be. Definitely will.

The man will move mountains just for you.

He would fight Death, and he would kill it just for you.

That's truly crazy.

But once again, if he's crazy, then you are too.

"Okay..." your quiet voice sounded in the silent room, only the cozy melody accompanying your words. "Alsatian it is."

It took a second, stretching for years, for him to slowly, with the grace of a well-fed tamed predator, get up from the floor and lean towards you, giving you the most tender kiss you have ever felt.

Delicate as silk, sweet as chocolate, a touch of love.

All his feelings for you couldn't fit in one kiss. But he needed to try.

And as soon as you relaxed, trusting yourself to his strong, safe arms, loud baby cries came from the baby monitor.

Damn.

Simon pulled away from you with a quiet "Don't move, I'll go get the Princess" and you couldn't help but giggle when you heard him open the door to your bedroom and start talking like an idiot, cuz she just loved when he was goofy around her.

In one second, promises to make you perfect for his fat cock again, and in the second after that, rocks your common child while making hilarious noises to pacify her.

"Simon!" And when he, rocking your tiny Princess, looked out from behind your bedroom door, you said helplessly, unable to remove the silly smile from your face, "I love you, baby."

His gaze softened.

"I love you, too, mama."

Oh, this man...

Oh this man!

3K notes · View notes

gargoy-ross · 4 months

Text

You made today special - Vox x gn!reader

Summary: You and Vox have been in a situationship of sorts for a while, and he has finally asked you out for the upcoming Valentines. Being the showman he is, he wants everything to be perfect. Unfortunately things don't go according to his plan and he's left on a verge of breakdown.

Warnings: some nasty language but otherwise none

Word count: 1309

He's booked a reservation at the most renowned restaurant in Pride Ring.

He's made sure that a limousine will be ready and waiting.

He's even bought flowers, carefully picked and chosen to match your mutual aesthetic.

And he has put on his best suit, checked himself in the mirror at least seven times in the past hour - which both Valentino and Velvet have teased him about. Usually he'd at least retort with a snarky comment, but Vox can't bring himself to care today.

From the moment you agreed to be his Valentine he's been preparing to swoon you over. Every little detail is taken care of for this day to be memorable.

You're dressed in your best and waiting for him to come pick you up. The butterflies in your stomach refused to calm themself, and you're sure you look like a lovestruck fool right now.

Despite your excitement you were also a bit nervous about how the public would respond to your appearance with Vox. The paparazzi followed him everywhere, and he's always been rather pedantic about the Vees' image.

Still, finally having a date with him? Not just shameless flirting and drunken night outs, but an actual real date?

It was no secret that you had been pining for the tech overlord for longer than you'd like to admit and you were happy to know he shared those feelings too.

A glance at the clock tells you that he should've been here by now. You recheck the message he sent you earlier.

Vox wouldn't have stood you up, would he?

You debate on whether you should text him to ask where he is, but before you can make a decision a black limo drives to your driveway.

You sigh in relief as Vox steps out to open the door for you.

"Apologies for the late arrival," his smile makes you forget your earlier worries. "there were some hiccups on the way. I hope you didn't wait for long."

"I was a bit worried you wouldn't show up, but it's all right."

Vox promises to make it up to you later. He hadn't anticipated the paparazzi blocking the road, and since he was supposed to pick you up he couldn't just zap himself out of there like he'd usually do.

He places a hand on your waist as he guides you. "You look stunning by the way."

"Thank you. You look very handsome too." You find it hard to find the right words, but Vox seems pleased with your answer regardless.

This was just a small setback on an otherwise perfect date, he thinks. Everything else will go just as planned.

The ride to the restaurant starts off a bit awkward, but the two of you soon set into a comfortable conversation. Vox, with his natural charm, led most of the exchange, asking for your opinions and preferences on a matter of things. His animated expressions and almost cartoonish mannerism were a delight to watch.

At some point Vox decides that now is the perfect time to give you the bouquet. He reaches for it, only to realize that he forgot to take it with him.

Fuck.

His expression goes from happy and exited to 'shit, I left the stove on'.

"Is everything okay?"

He's quick to recover, nodding and reassuring you that there's no need to worry.

He'll just give you the flowers after the date then.

The restaurant was packed full, which was expected on a special day like Valentine's. That's precisely why Vox had made the reservation early. Now if that idiot behind the counter could just find it…

"Sir, are you sure you've made the reservation for today? I do not see you on the list."

Vox thanks himself for having such good self control. "Yes, I'm quite sure. Check it again."

"I'm sorry sir, your name isn't on the list-"

Vox leans over the counter. His left eye pulses and voice is laced with static. "But it is, right there. See?"

"Of course. This way please."

Vox makes a note of the employee's name. He'll get them fired later for embarrassing him like that.

You're finally seated at your table. It's one of the nicer ones, private enough so others won't see nor hear you and with an amazing view over Pentagram City.

Vox calms himself and the two of you continue your conversation from earlier.

It doesn't take long for a young waitress to come to take your orders. She seems almost nervous, though you suppose it's understandable given the reputation the Vees have. You find your favourite from the menu, and Vox orders a bottle of wine along with your meals.

"Thank you for taking me here. It's been really nice."

Vox flashes you a smile. "Of course. Only the best for you."

Soon the waitress is back with a wine bottle and two glasses. She opens the bottle and goes to fill your glass, only to trip on the table leg.

He sees in slow motion as the red wine gets spilled right onto your lap.

There's a split second of silence before the waitress starts to chant a string of apologies like a prayer. You try to assure her that it'll be okay. It was an accident, and this certainly wasn't the worst that has happened to you.

The opposite of you Vox's claws dig into the table, leaving permanent marks on it's surface.

This bitch. This useless piece of shit DARED TO FUCKING RUIN YOUR CLOTHES.

In a fit of panic she tries to swipe off the spillage with a hand chief. That does nothing but manage to make the mess worse, and only when Vox grabs her by the shoulder to drag her away from you does she realize that.

Before you get to say anything you're pulled up from your seat. There's a quick flash of light and suddenly you're back in Vox's quarters in the Vees' tower.

It takes a moment for your brain to catch up. You can feel Vox's hands shaking slightly before he lets go of you.

He's about to lose his composure.

"I did everything right," his voice distorts in the middle of the sentence. He's too worked up to keep up the calm, collected, and charming facade he's mastered.

"I made plans. I double-checked all the boxes."

He stomps off to the living room, practically tearing off his jacket.

"It was supposed to be perfect."

Vox slumps down on the couch. His shoulders sag and he looks at you with what you can only describe as desperation.

He had tried so hard to make today special, yet it seems like the universe had a different plan.

He draws in a shaky breath. His voice is small and you think you might have heard him sniffle when he spoke again.

"I had to make it perfect…"

"Vox…" You take his hands onto yours and he doesn't resist when you place soft kisses on both of them.

"You know, I really enjoyed today. Even though we had to wait forever in line at that restaurant and my clothes got ruined. Do you know why?"

He shakes his head.

"Because I got to spend it with you."

He smiles, despite still feeling down about all his plans being ruined.

"Thank you for taking me out. If it's okay with you, I'd like to spend the night?"

"I won't say no to that, but let's get you to something a bit more comfortable, shall we?"

He picks you up and you wrap your arms around him as he carries you to his bedroom. He agrees to let you borrow one of his shirts, and the two of you spend the rest of the evening cuddled up watching movies.

Maybe today wasn't so bad after all.

#vox x reader #vox x you #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel vox x reader

345 notes · View notes

angldelight · 9 months

Note

Can you make a max verstappen scenario where like an interviewer says something bad about his girlfriend and he like snaps at the interviewer and is protective?

oh yes. yes I can. a part of the mad max universe.

01: INTERVIEWER !

— dark!max. graphic descriptions of violence. fem!merc!reader. sexist/misogynistic comments. petname (sweet girl x1). swearing.

everybody knew that you were something special to max with the way he’d always try and find you. his eyes? always looking around for you and for the first time in a while, your interview post was right next to his — he begged for someone to make it happen, you didn’t need to know that.

it’s the australian grand prix and you’ve just had a nasty dnf, the mclaren of lando norris decided to collide with yours round turn 4, lap 7. but, what can one do, he apologised — even more after max tried ramming lando out of the way to get to you on the way to your interviews — and you calmly accepted it.

you moved on. max didn’t.

“so.. the bad crash with the mercedes of y/n must have proven something to you, no?” max has never looked so confused in his life, you briefly turn to the left, hearing your name mentioned. max turns to you, looking confused.

“uh.. what do you mean?” max’s anger is starting to blossom, you know that feeling he gets all too well. he grips the barrier before the interviewer and visibly clenches his jaw. he doesn’t take well to people talking to you, it makes him feel as if they don’t appreciate you.

“well.. our first dnf in two races and its a woman.” the interviewer is almost bold with the the way he’s talking about you, and then.. it happens.

max hears your gasp, if he was to look at you now he’d see that heartbroken look on your face. he could see the news, “Mad Max! Strikes again and hits interviewer!” the press would have a field day.

so he doesn’t hit anyone, as much as he would love to feel his skull crack beneath the weight of his knuckles— for you, before you, max is a good man.

he bites his tongue for a mere moment, you leave your interview (pissed off yourself), then he snaps. not violently but for enough for the interviewer to know what he’s said is wrong.

“she works fucking hard. a lot harder than anyone gives her credit for. the reason she didn’t finish was because of another driver, so how about you go and ask him what the fuck he was doing?” he all but spits out, slamming his hands onto the barrier, clenching his jaw he storms off.

he finds you in his motor home, body only covered in one of his jumpers, snuggled into the covers.

“oh sweet girl.” he mutters, moving to get into bed with you, kicking his shoes off he places himself behind you.

your about to fall asleep when the last thing you hear sends a shiver down your spine.

“no one will ever talk about you like that again.” his breath heavy and hot on your ear, you can only snuggle back into him.

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen x you #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x driver!reader #max x reader #max verstappen x female reader #mv1 #mv1 x reader

962 notes · View notes

loving-strawberry · 1 year

Text

✶Stray Kids reacting to their s/o ignoring when she's being sexualized✶ (HCS)

Summary: You are being sexualized by people because of your body, but you're so used to this, that you simply choose to ignore that.

It was a request!

A little note: To the person who requested, if you read this, I'm really sorry for what is happening to you:( Also, I couldn't really do exactly as you asked me, because my brain is refusing to cooperate with me sometimes! But I hope you like it!

Warning: Swearing. Some comments about body parts. Mention of food and drinks. Probably some writing errors.

Genre: A bit of angst. Fluff. (I don't know other ones???)

Pairing: Bf!Skz x Fem!Reader

Bang Chan☆

He was simply shocked when this happened for the first time in front of him

You two were just taking a stroll in a park, enjoying together your little time off both of you had that same day, which is a pretty rare occasion

And all of a sudden you hear some nasty and disgusting comments about your body coming from an old man

While poor Chan was feeling sick hearing that someone could say something like this in the a public space, without feeling ashamed of themselves, you simply ignored it

"My love, how could you just ignore something like that? Do you want me to go and talk to him??"

"Channie, it's ok. I'm used to it by now."

Now he's even more shocked

What do you mean used to it???

How many times did this happened???

Why didn't you told him anything yet???

He has so many questions and he feels so bad that there's not much he can do about your situation...

Lee Minho☆

This was happening as the two of you were on a date at a restaurant

And one man who was sitting at the next table, was looking intensely at your chest, even throughout your shirt

You just ignored his gross looks and focused on other things

But your boyfriend couldn't

He was pissed.

He doesn't want to accept that someone is looking at you like you're some kind of object and you to just ignore it like it's a normal thing

Even if it is normal for you, unfortunately

"You need to stand up for yourself when this happens!"

"Why? It's much more easier to just ignore them and don't show any reaction. They wouldn't understand anyway."

If you don't stand up for yourself when this happens to you, he will

And next time this happens, Minho will send deadly glares towards the people who dares sexualize you in any way

If that doesn't work, he'll go and have a little talk with them

You will need to stop him before getting his ass in trouble with JYP

Seo Changbin☆

This one takes place at the gym

You were doing some squats, and a group of men was constantly checking your butt and disgustingly smirking at each other

And of course, doing unnecessary comments

Wants to have a little talk with them part 2... Even though he's outnumbered

But stops when he sees that you don't give a flying fuck about this whole situation

"Babe, you really don't care? The way they commented about your body is unacceptable and disgusting..."

"Bin, I'm used to it. It's happening more often than you think."

Now he's all pouting, sad and disappointed with himself for not noticing sooner

And of course, disappointed with the people who can do such things

"You shouldn't be used to this, babe..."

Hwang Hyunjin☆

During one of your photoshoots for modeling, the photographer was starting to make you pose more and more sexy

Indecent actually

Like, almost Playboy style

But you just tried to brush it off

On the other hand, Hyunjin, who came along with you just to keep you company during this session, wasn't exactly happy about what just happened

He's having a pit in his stomach after all of that and you can tell he's angry

He will just tell the photographer to fuck off and takes you out of that place as fast as possible

"Hyunnie, what's wrong??"

"You're seriously asking this...? You've just been sexualized and you're asking me what's wrong?"

"It was happening so many than you could think off... I just don't care too much anymore."

Now he's furious and grossed out.

Of course Hyunjin wouldn't let you go back to the same photographer, despite your reassurances that everything is fine

And he'll search himself for someone else who to be trusted with you

Han Jisung☆

(I don't have any ideas of scenarios here🙃)

You two went out for some ice cream, and suddenly someone says something like 'I have something better for you to lick'

Han is about to go and deal with him, until you stop him

"Ji, don't waste your time with that."

"But-..."

"Just ignore him."

He's honestly confused as to how unbothered you are

Makes him question himself how many times did this happened before and never noticed

"Does... Does this happened frequently...?"

"Yeah."

"HUH?!?"

He'll start from now on to look after you and pay attention to your surroundings constantly

Lee Felix☆

You both were at a TV show when this happens and having an interview

After a while, the hosts attention is focused just on you and starts telling suggestive jokes about you

Probably to entertain who's watching the show

But you don't pay attention at all to them

Felix by now is mad.

And a little disappointed that you don't react at all about this

You know the expressions he always have when he's jealous/mad about something?

Yeah... That's how I'm imagining him right now

Moving on...

After the show is over, of course he'll start questioning you

"How could you just brush those jokes off like you being sexualized is a normal thing???"

"Because it's a normal thing, unfortunately."

"What...?"

Poor Felix, he will probably start crying after hearing this :(

Kim Seungmin☆

(Out of ideas part2)

Location for this one?

The beach.

You are wearing a one piece costume, not feeling like showing too much skin this time

But this never stopped two man to approach you

And starts make unnecessarily comments about how you should wear a bikini instead, because that's what men wants to see

Seungmin went to get you two drinks, and right when they said those gross things, he came back

He expected you to say something back to those men

But you straight up ignored them and started scrolling on your phone

Leaving Seungmin to get rid of the pests

He just fake tripped on his own feet and threw the cold drinks, with ice in them, on the men skin

Skin that probably was warm of because how much they stood in the sun

They just scattered away in the contact with the extremely cold liquids, and muttering some curses under their breaths

"I didn't know you can be so lame to not talk back in these situations."

"I talked back enough. No one listened. So I don't bother anymore."

"... I'll go grab other drinks..."

Most likely feels bad for saying that now that he knows you're struggling with this everyday

Will make sure to be the who speaks up for you next time something similar happens again

Yang Jeongin☆

I.N was doing a live, with you being somewhere in the background, laying in bed and minding your own business

You were also reading some of the comments that people had left in I.N chat, from your phone

Both of you saw a pretty nasty comment left from a "fan" about your body and how hot you looked laying like that in bed

But neither of you said anything about it

I.N didn't said anything, cuz he hopped you didn't saw it

You just ignored the comment, truth be told

Shortly after that comment was left in poor boy's chat, he ended it, feeling too sick to continue the live

"Are you ok, Innie? You look a little pale..."

"Y-Yeah... It's just... I read a comment that made me feeling unsettled."

"Oh? The one about me? I just ignored it. I've gotten even worse."

If I.N wasn't pale before, he is now

He just couldn't understand how anyone could say something like this so easily

.............................

✧ Masterlist ✧

✧ Tag List ✧

@bangchansbae @tattywood @nebulousbrainsoup @https-skzology

2K notes · View notes

daisynik7 · 1 year

Text

Business Trip

husband!Nanami x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~1.7k

Summary: Nanami hates going on business trips now that he has you in his life. Even with food and hotel expenses paid for by his company, it’s not enough to distract him from the fact that he misses you. The two of you have the perfect solution for this, which includes a vivid imagination and the help of a little, but mighty, toy. cw: sex-toy use (vibrator), phone sex, explicit sexual content, language, Nanami is a bit mean, dirty talk, use of pet-names (honey, sweetie, princess), reader is called whore and slut (endearing lol), just pure nasty smut. Author’s Notes: More husband!Nanami smut! I was inspired to write this because I just purchased my very first vibe two weeks ago and boy, is it something. Hope you like this filth! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated! Thanks for reading! Divider credits to @/cafekitsune! Tagging the lovely @liliorsstuff-blog bc I love her and Nanami is her husband. 😉

Nanami has a hard time when he has to go out of town for a business trip. He never used to mind it before; in fact, he liked being sent away to a different city every once in a while, especially when the food and hotel expenses were paid for. However, ever since the two of you have been together, he dreads them because it means time away from you. And he hates being apart from you. Absolutely hates it. And to be honest, you hate it too.

This time, he’s sent to Osaka for a convention, staying at a swanky hotel covered by his company. He takes full advantage of this, ordering room service, indulging in a bottle or two of liquor from the mini bar. He even wraps himself in a fluffy robe after showering, sitting in bed with hair still wet at the tips. A single tap of his phone and he’s calling you, waiting a single ring for you to pick up. “Hi baby!” you answer, his mood instantly lifted at the sound of your cheery voice.

“How are you, princess?”

“Good. Just in our room now. How was your day?”

He spends the next several minutes recounting today’s festivities, including a funny story about him sneaking a second complimentary bento for lunch. You rant to him about your coworkers’ petty drama involving missing office supplies and stolen meals from the fridge. You both share what you ate for dinner, you complimenting the picture he sent earlier of the full spread ordered through room service. He sends you a quick snapshot of his current view of his hotel room, including his bare feet sticking out from under the robe.

“Your room is so nice. Look at your toes!” you laugh. “Are you going to sleep soon?”

“Not yet. Still waiting for my hair to dry.” He pauses, contemplating for a split second before asking, “Are you in bed now?”

“Yup, all snuggled under the covers.”

He smiles to himself, picturing you cocooned in the thick comforter the two of you share, curled to the right side of the bed where you usually sleep. “Do you miss me?”

“Of course I do. I miss you so much.”

Without thinking, he spreads his legs wider, getting more comfortable against the pillows. “I miss you too, princess. I wish I was there with you right now.”

“Me too.”

There’s a moment of silence, tension hanging heavy in the static noise between you. Nanami decides to stop beating around the bush. It’s obvious what you both want. You’ve been married long enough, together even longer, there’s no shame or secrets anymore. “Wish I could fuck you right now,” he confesses.

You moan through the speaker, thighs splayed, reaching towards your pussy. Tonight, you’re wearing one of his oversized t-shirts, his scent lingering on the fabric, making you feel safe and secure in his absence. You sink into the cushions, whispering a breathy, “Baby.”

“Tell me what you’re wearing right now.”

“Just your t-shirt and my underwear.”

“Oh yeah? One of your silky ones?”

You hum, confirming his suspicions as he loosens the knot of his robe, folding back the cotton to expose his hardening cock. “God, I bet you look so good right now.”

You giggle softly, lifting the hem of the shirt past your stomach, fingers brushing your skin delicately, imagining his instead.

His voice is low, thick with lust. “I want to hear you come. Can you do that for me?”

“Mm-hm,” you respond, slipping underneath the waistband, teasing your clit with the pad of your middle finger.

He clicks his tongue disapprovingly, already knowing what you’re doing. “Not with your fingers, honey. Use the vibrator, remember?”

A whine escapes your mouth while you reach for the drawer to retrieve the small toy, the one you bought recently to supplement nights alone like this. He was the first to test it out on you, though. Made sure it was good enough to satisfy your needs. The recent memory of him pressing the fluttering tip to your clit, pumping wet fingers in and out of your cunt, has you throbbing.

You push your panties past your knees, sliding them off completely at your ankles. With the blanket hastily stripped from your body, you spread your thighs wide, completely exposed from the waist down. A small bead of lube is just enough to get it slick. You rub the oiled tip up and down your pussy, finger on the button, anticipating the intense sensation.

“Don’t turn it on yet,” he demands. He wraps his hands around the base of his cock, slow strokes to start. “Tease it a little bit. Just like I do it.”

Your husband always likes to take his time with you, no matter how desperate and aching for him you are. And when you’re two hundred plus miles away from each other, you predict he’s going to draw this out as long as he possibly can, both for his pleasure and yours. Not that you’re complaining.

You play with your clit, tingling bud pulsing against the smooth exterior of the vibrator. He huffs, “Don’t hold back. I want you dripping onto to the sheets. Can you do that for me, honey?”

Another moan escapes your lips, envisioning the mess you’re about to make with his sultry voice guiding you through it. “I can’t do it alone,” you whine, finger right on the trigger, raring to go. “Help me, Kento.”

“I’m right here, princess. Don’t worry. Just listen to me, okay? Follow my every word.”

You nod, hypnotized by each syllable uttered from his lust laden lips, like an obedient slut. You’ve almost forgotten that you’re alone in bed, convinced he’s whispering filthy instructions directly in your ear beside you, watching you unravel with the dormant toy pressed to your pussy. “Can you turn it on now, honey?”

He’s gentle and affectionate in the beginning, hiding wicked desires behind endearing pet-names. Soon, he’ll start taunting you, tormenting you for being so fucking sensitive, so fucking needy. The two sides of him work together in perfect sync, angel and devil, both determined to make you lose yourself in the throes of passion. There’s nothing he loves more than seeing you, or in this case, hearing you, completely unhinged for him, and only him.

When you finally push the button, the low buzz playing in the background, he can’t help but increase the pace of his strokes. He pictures your thighs open wide, the shaking tip nestled between your delicate pussy lips, the vibrations stimulating your clit, radiating down to your pointed toes. Head thrown back into the pillows, cheeks hot, tongue sticking out in that adorable dumb expression you make whenever you’re being fucked. It won’t take long for you to climax, not when he’s on the phone guiding you as he jerks his twitching cock. Just the thought of your body spasming from exhilaration is enough to get him off.

“That’s it, right on your clit, honey. Does it feel good?” He knows it does, judging by how the only response he receives are your shameless moans. He chuckles, stroking himself faster. “I can’t understand you, honey. Does it feel good?” Still no reply, he growls, “Answer me.”

You choke on your spit, drool leaking from the sides of your lips. When you catch your breath, you let out a trembling, “Yes!”, resulting in another sinister laugh from him.

“Feels so good, you can’t even speak properly, can you? Too fucked out to even think, huh? Nasty slut.” His devilish side kicks in, hell-bent on hearing you orgasm, to have you coming so hard you spill onto the sheets. “I married such a whore, didn’t I? That’s what you are, a fucking whore. You’re so fucking slutty for me, I love it.”

You’re a whimpering mess now, the vibe sending you into a spiral, clit aching from the relentless tremors. There’s not a coherent thought in your brain; you’re incapable of admitting to him that you’re close. You let him figure it out when you cry out, “Fuck!”, legs quivering and stomach tight from the intense high.

“Give me your fucking orgasm, baby. Let me fucking hear it,” he spits out, sweat forming on his forehead. He’s since stripped his robe off entirely, laying on top of It while he masturbates to the sounds of his precious slut doing exactly what he wants her to do. What he needs her to do.

When you’re finished, you slide the toy lower so that it’s not directly on your sensitive bud. The fluttering tip starts making soft splashing noises at your arousal, indicating just how fucking wet you are. You place the phone right on your abdomen, hoping he can hear the lewd squelches from your pussy. For the first time since you began, you’re able to formulate a proper sentence, body relaxed into the mattress. “Can you hear it, baby? Can you hear how wet I am for you?”

He definitely can. “Ah, fuck,” he swears, fisting his shaft faster. His hand is not enough; it never is. But he lets his imagination do the rest for him. He knows how fucking juicy his pretty wife’s pussy is. Your perfect, luscious pussy lips puffy from overstimulation, covered in sticky sweet cum. He’d do anything for a taste of it right now, to run his tongue along your glistening folds, gather your slick and swallow it to quench his thirst. Dip his finger inside that gushy entrance only to stick it into his mouth, slurping every last drop. He admires the mental image before flicking his wrist with fervor, pumping his cock until he shoots his load onto his stomach.

The two of you stay quiet for a moment, the static noise and muted buzzing from the phone settling in the silence. Nanami looks down, inspecting the wreckage splattered across his abs, leaking down his side and onto the robe beneath. He runs his fingers through his hair, forehead tacky with perspiration, exhaling with a satisfied smile before calling out, “Honey? Are you still there?”

It's only now that he remembers that the low hum is from the vibrator, still buzzing against your supple skin. Reserved moans growing louder as you circle the toy back to your needy clit, ready for another round.

Nanami smirks to himself, holding the phone closer to his ear, rock hard again. It’s going to be a long, fulfilling night.

#kento nanami #nanami kento #nanami kento smut #nanami smut #nanami fanfic #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami x y/n #Kento Nanami smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk nanami

2K notes · View notes