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#slutty suit fic
hoodie-buck · 2 months
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—slutty suit fic is here ya’ll! let’s all bless ryan for his slutty perfectly acceptable attire 😏
rated: e | words: 7.4k | read on ao3
summary:
They settled in, others joining around them; well, Eddie settled at least. Every time Buck caught sight of Eddie, all he could see was the sinful chest hair protruding from his bare chest beneath the open suit jacket. And the hair. God, all Buck wanted to do was run his hands through it and wreck it even more. Maybe run his face against the stubble and— And why the fuck was Eddie staring straight at him?
Eddie looked to him keenly before leaning in closer and bumping their knees together.
“Might wanna pick your jaw up there Buckley. The wedding hasn’t even started yet.”
Buck could hardly process Eddie’s first words, only that the night was just beginning. Buck groaned. How the fuck was he meant to make it through an evening with Eddie and his slutty suit?
Clearing his throat, Buck pointedly looked away from Eddie, focusing his attention upfront where the ceremony was about to start. He pretended not to hear Eddie snicker beside him.
—or—
Buck asks Eddie to be his date to a wedding. He didn't expect the man to wear a slutty get up.
tagging squad below, just lmk if you wanna be added or removed <3
tags: @loserdiaz @redlightsandicedtea @loveyourownsmiilee @monsterrae1 @buddierights @swiftiebuckleyhan @honestlydarkprincess @barbiediaz @spotsandsocks @justsmilestuffhappens @eddiiediaz @djdangerlove @eddiebabygirldiaz @elvensorceress @jacksadventuresinwriting @stanningsky @wh0re-behavi0r @ronordmann @spaceprincessem @arthursdent @disasterbuckdiaz @giddyupbuck @wildlife4life @betty-boom @hippolotamus @thewolvesof1998 @watchyourbuck @underwater-ninja-13 @pirrusstuff @nmcggg @theotherbuckley @louis-tenn @the-gayest-wug @buckley-diaz-rules @muppetbuddie @gamer-kai @blorbodiaz @heartshapedvows @trashbaget @steadfastsaturnsrings @buckbuckgoose @wikiangela @hobbitnarwhal @shortsighted-owl @pirrusstuff @goldencherrymooon @murder-trio @daffi-990 @greenfairrryy @mattsire
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exhuastedpigeon · 2 months
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lay your cards down, down, down
Buddie | Mature | 6.3k
At that moment a few things happened at once that all felt equality important. Buck noticed a black ring on Eddie’s ring finger. Buck felt Eddie’s hard cock pressed against his hip. And Buck saw a matching black ring on his own ring finger. Maybe it was silly to put Eddie’s hard cock at the same level as what looked a lot like wedding rings, but it felt just as important as the other two observations. “Oh,” Eddie’s eyes widened as he spotted the ring on his hand. “I -” “Did we get married?” Buck whispered, voice dripping in panic. “Eddie I-I don’t remember wh-what happened.” Or Buck and Eddie get drunk at Chim's bachelor party and wake up married.
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ughgoaway · 5 months
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I've been trying to think about what teacher girlie and matty would fight about that would lead to "I love you" but I have no idea??? like maybe touring stuff but I think she'd be really understanding of that??
I wanna work on the blurb but I have no clue what starts it all off lol
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thestobingirlie · 1 year
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the way ppl frame eddie's attraction to steve is really weird sometimes. like, from the show, we have a scene of him complimenting steve and basically gushing over him being a badass. so on some level we know what he finds physically attractive about steve and you can continue on that same vein. but bc some ppl don't want him to be attracted to steve's masculinity, competence, badassery, etc. they want to act like the "babygirlified" steve is the one eddie is attracted to specifically. i was just thinking about this bc of how you mentioned ppl projecting the fact that they find the sailor uniform cute onto eddie w/o considering whether that actually makes sense for any character involved.
people see steve as attractive, and a lot of those people like feminised steve, and so when writing smutty fics, or even just fics that dive into eddie’s attraction for steve, they insert their own attraction, and not eddie’s, if that makes sense?
like, people find the sailor suit cute, so regardless of any characters actual feelings on the suits (steve and robin’s obvious trauma) the suits are cute and funny in fics! (and hyper sexualised but because it’s being done to steve and not robin, it’s okay!)
anyway! i totally think that if eddie’s attracted to steve, it would be more surrounding his masculinity, his brave nature, his broad shoulders and chest, and the fact that he can tear a bat in two pieces with his bare hands and foot. all of which he actually compliments in the show
i think it especially makes sense if we’re considering the fact that it was steve that made eddie change the way he viewed jocks. if you make steve no longer a jock, then eddie isn’t really learning anything? and he continues on being judgemental of people he doesn’t actually know.
and it’s just really weird because they’re gay men (if we’re doing steddie) and yet people love it when one of them is basically a woman.
(i am not talking about trans hcs, you do you. however i do find it kind of weird when steve is transfem, and the story really only revolves around steddie and nothing else)
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roseglazedlens · 7 months
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⦑ 𝐟𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬 ⦒ ✧.*
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NANAMI KENTO X FEM! READER synopsis: Nanami is pent up after work, so you give him the best fifteen minutes of his day as a reward. content: 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈, suit kink, unprotected p in v, hair pulling, degradation kink, semi-public exhibitionism, creampie, manhandling, cumdump, rough, daddy kink, pet name (princess) a/n: first jjk fic. blond in blue dress shirt supremacy... that is all. « 758 words┇masterlist┇reblogs appreciated! »
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Nanami Kento is the kind of man who fucks hard. Especially after a long day of work and his stress is pent up in his system, Nanami will use your body like the cumdump you are. He claims your body has magical healing powers that can make any headache or muscle cramp disappear.
As he enters your shared home, you, the doting girlfriend as always, greets him: “How was work, honey?” But today, Nanami is not in the mood for conversation. The moment you are close enough to be held by him, he turns you around and without a hesitation says:
“Bend over.” The low drawl and commanding tone in Nanami’s voice triggers a surge of heat towards your belly. He knows you love his directness, and he’s not afraid to make you come in your underwear right now, knowing that he can make you come over and over again until you beg to stop. Looking down, you see how his dick tents over his expensive dress pants, and the mere image of him thinking about you during work or driving home gets you excited.
And that's exactly where you are now. Nanami unbuttons his white suit jacket, tailored so firmly it hugs his trapezius muscles and arms that it needs to be removed for easier movement, easier movement to fuck you senseless without hindrance. His cuffs roll up to his elbows, exposing his forearms that tenses as he unbuckles his belt swiftly with one hand. Then Nanami shuffles his pants down, just enough to take his massive fucking cock out and taunt you with his size. You shift your pants and underwear down yourself, because you know Nanami doesn't like waiting.
Your hole is already dripping wet, expected, the insides of your cunt still remembering how Nanami was fucking your insides into the bed this morning. He can only spare fifteen minutes with you before he leaves for work, and Nanami makes sure you always cum on time. You know your boyfriend is a horndog but he always has the decency, or patience (unlike you) to eat your home cooked dinner first before trying to get you into the bedroom. But today? He can’t wait—and so can’t you.
Nanami doesn’t waste a single second not inside of you. He slams himself right in, and your cunt instantly wraps and tightens around you, remembering the shape of him, just how he likes it. His grip on your love handles is firm, unrelenting. Each thrust of him forces a choked breath out of you, whimpered mumbles of his name to go faster and faster until your pussy catches the high you’ve been so desperate to release.
“K-Kento, what if someone hears us? Or worse… sees us?” You feel a whisk of wind through your calves, and look back to find the door not closed fully.
“Good. Let’s show them how much of a filthy slut you are for taking my cock.” Nanami loosens his tie, and your pussy clenches at the sight of it.
“Fuck, if I didn’t have to go to work, I would be fucking your pussy like my toy from morning to night. Windows wide open. Let them see the slutty look on your face when my cock is inside of you."
“Please, daddy.” You're begging now, your orgasm is threatening for release but you're not quite there yet.
“Say that again. Louder. Can’t hear shit with the sound of my dick slapping into your cunt.” Nanami doesn’t stop, fully intending to keep going until he reaches his own high, and you reaching yours.
“Please daddy... I want all of you...”
“So my load this morning isn’t good enough? You want seconds? Aren't you a greedy little girl?”
He pulls on your hair hard, and the moans that came out of you is indistinguishable from pleasure or pain. An electrifying sensation rushes underneath you, and this time, you give in to the feeling and come on his dick without restraint.
“I’m coming too, princess.” Only when you finishes cumming, he then permits himself to come too. Trails of white strings shoot inside of you, filling every crevice of your insides with his sticky goodness as he lets out a low grunt of pleasure.
When he’s done, Nanami pulls up his pants, and he’s wordless again. He looks at his watch, and it's been exactly fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes of sex each time, just as planned, no more and no less. Even with sex, Nanami never goes overtime.
“Can't wait for my fifteen minutes tomorrow, Kento.”
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thanks for reading! come check out my other works. —yours truly, rose. idk who likes jjk in my taglist but i think u guys know tags: @valsthea @httpsuguru @emilzke @j3llyd0nut @ovaryacted © roseglazedlens — please do not repost, plagiarise, or feed to ai.
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sttoru · 9 months
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just saw ur fic ideas post .......... how bout semi public stuff with gojo @ some high end jujutsu event and he just is SOOOO enamoured with how you look and takes you to the bathroom and ..... 😙
GOT A FETISH FOR YOUR LOVE !
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ෆ note. sobs dies ressurects… im so weak… i had to write a full on fic… everyone thank T for this cuz i went crazy on this one and it’s super detailed for no reason. this post contains smut, proceed at own risk !
ෆ tags. (perv)dom!satoru x female reader. semi public, p in v — unprotected, bits of manhandling, corruption kink, breast play, premature ejaculation, cervix fucking, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, teasing, cum play, creampies, spanking, pussy slapping, mentions of masturbation, perv panty stealer satoru, implied cunnilingus, fucked against a wall, lots of dirty talk, satoru calls you ‘slutty’ once, satoru with the famous ‘just the tip’ beg, satoru sometimes turns whiny and subby so you get the best of both worlds (hes pathetic), he has a big dick ehem, pussy drunk satoru.
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satoru couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw you climb up the stairs near the torii gates of the high school he teaches at; your appearance only increasing in beauty due to the candle lights placed all around the environment.
your face and body were glistening under the moon light as you made your way up. you were silently cursing yourself for wearing heels while knowing that jujutsu tech was situated on top of a literal mountain.
unbeknownst to you, your boyfriend had been waiting your arrival near the entrance since the first guests started pouring in.
with a sigh, you finally lift your head up as you notice the entrance to the main building come into view. there were lots of known sorcerers gathered around, chitchatting about recent business and changes in the jujutsu society.
you were too enamoured by the elegant decorations that hung around the school and the people who were dressed accordingly to the theme to even notice the white-haired man walking up to you.
which was unusual, since satoru’s tall physique could be easily spotted in any crowd.
“baby, you should’ve told me you had arrived!” satoru exclaims almost embarrassingly loud, waving at you without a care in the world of all the other guests that were giving him stares. his gaze was only on you, “i would’ve come picked you up.”
you wave back at him, eyes lingering on the tailored dark blue suit he was wearing, the waistcoat and dress shirt underneath being undeniably attractive. a bonus being that he was wearing his glasses and not his blindfold.
“it’s okay, love.” you reassure satoru as you walk a few steps towards him as well.
“ya sure? you didn’t hurt yourself or anything, right?” satoru pouts, immediately wrapping his arms around your waist and hugging you tight, “my poor, poor girl.”
you roll your eyes at satoru’s antics. his one and only desire in life is to give you the princess treatment you deserve and it shows at moments like these.
“it’s fine,” you murmur, voice muffled as you bury your face into the crook of his neck; getting drowned in his familiar scent, “you look handsome by the way.”
satoru chuckles, feeling a bit giddy on the inside from your compliment. he almost responded with a ‘i know i do’, yet he held himself back. today was an exception and he decided to save you from any more cheeky remarks.
“thank you, pretty.” satoru hums, “you look ethereal.”
you could feel the way your boyfriend hugged you even tighter after his comment, pressing your body against his. you normally wouldn’t mind it in the slightest, however you could notice a few people glancing over at you two.
satoru couldn’t give a single damn about it; the only thing his senses were hyper focused on were your breasts that were squished against his chest—the curves of your body being easily accessible to the sorcerer.
“god..” his breath was shaky a little. satoru was really trying hard to repress his urges, the event hadn’t even started yet and even so, he was way too lost in his perverted thoughts.
he couldn’t help himself. you were just too addictive; your perfume, your warmth, your body, your face, your glossy lips… your breasts, your ass—
satoru clears his throat and pulls back after a bit, “shall we, m’lady?”
he bowed a little to you, putting his hand out for you to hold on while a subtle smirk played on his lips.
with a giggle, you grab onto his hand and satoru wastes no time interlocking your fingers as he guides you to the entrance of the main hall.
the building was scattered with even more sorcerers from all kinds of clans; some admiring the scenery, some sitting and eating various delicacies.
like before, you were too caught up in the scale of the event to realise that satoru was ogling you. it was a great thing that his pitch black lenses were blocking most of his eyes from the outside;
his gaze lingered on your side profile, your lips that were slightly parted in amazement, your hips which swayed from side to side with each step and your ass which he tried not to grope in public.
satoru hadn’t even noticed that he started to ball his hands into fists out of pure self control. his hand that was holding onto yours tightening its grip as well.
“something wrong?” you ask your boyfriend once you noticed, tilting your head to look up at him.
“nothin’, baby.” satoru lies and flashes you a reassuring smile, “c’mon. let’s enjoy some food.”
without waiting on your answer, satoru guides you towards a free cocktail table and stands near it, serving you an appetiser that was set on the table cloth.
you gladly accepted it and took a small bite, looking around the place some more and taking in the details, “it’s really pretty. the decor and stuff.”
satoru hums in agreement even though he hadn’t taken a single proper look at the environment when you were the main event in his eyes, “yeah. i think so too.”
everything about you somehow drove him crazy today. on most normal days, he could wait until you were at home to show you how much he adores you. that was not the case at the moment since he was fighting with his own self on the inside.
he was absolutely whipped for your elegant look.
“very pretty.” satoru mumbles under his breath. he most definitely wasn’t talking about the interior or exterior of the place.
it was getting harder by the minute to not give in to his primal needs. the more you talked to him, flashed him your innocent smile and let him hear your voice, the more he was struggling to keep his (now hard) dick in his pants.
you continued rambling about something that you noticed around you and satoru took the chance to place his hand on your hip, pulling you closer. it wasn’t anything unusual, thus you kept on talking.
it started off by him rubbing the area around your hips to his fingers subtly sliding downwards, eventually reaching the hem of your dress. his index finger dipped under the fabric, caressing your upper thigh. that small skin to skin action made satoru’s breath hitch and his cock twitch in its restraints.
“fuck.”
“what was that?” you abruptly stop yourself as you heard your lover curse under his breath. you weren’t aware of all the lewd thoughts going on in satoru’s mind and that made it even better. your innocent confusion wasn’t going to last long, however.
satoru lowered his head a bit until his lips were right next to your ear. the warmth of his breath made you shiver.
“i said,” he starts off in a low tone; one which he knows would make you weak for him, “i want you.”
it was as if time froze for you for a split second. you knew what satoru meant with that. you could’ve easily guessed the hidden meaning behind those three words just by his tone. the light but daring touches on your legs were your second hint.
“love, we’re in public.” you whisper back. satoru has a reputation to uphold as the strongest sorcerer in this entire building, yet there he was; implying that he wanted to take you right there and now.
a sigh left satoru’s lips, the air hitting your ear once again, “please, baby? for me?”
satoru was running out of patience. he could act out in the midst of the hall and disregard his image for all he cares. he just needed you. badly.
“promise i’ll be quick, yeah?�� he adds, tone pleading but also a tad dominant.
you gulp and wanted to give in. you stood no chance to your whiny boyfriend, who always knew the right buttons to push to get you to comply to his requests.
satoru saw the hesitation in your eyes and he decided to plead more, “just the tip. i promise, sweets—tha’s all i need.”
a intrusive mental image of satoru fucking your brains out made him grip your thigh a bit harder; his voice suddenly growing deep and dominant, his expression filled with only lust.
“shit—please. have to feel your sweet pussy wrapped around me or i’ll lose it.”
his words were growing explicit and it was only a matter of time before he actually touches you improperly in front of everyone. you could tell by the way his long fingers inched closer to your clothed cunt.
“..fine. just the tip, like you said.” you breathe out shakily out of pure desire. though, both of you knew that it was going to be more than ‘just the tip’.
satoru grinned and immediately put down the appetiser he was holding onto, grabbing your hand and almost rushing out of the hall.
there were a few sorcerers trying to greet him on the way, yet he didn’t even glance at them once. his eyes were dazed with hunger as he swiftly made his way through the crowd—his thoughts being filled with the ways he’ll have you moan and beg.
satoru opens up the door to the nearest bathroom, pushing you against the wall the moment the door closed behind you.
his glossy lips crash against yours, the lipstick you’re wearing smearing on your lover due to the aggressive and almost sloppy way he kissed you. his tongue prodded against your lips before entering your mouth—strings of saliva and heavy breaths being exchanged between you two for what felt like minutes.
“ah, fuck. i wanted this so bad,” satoru moans against your mouth, sucking on your bottom lip, “..since the moment i saw you in that dress.”
his big hands were all over your body; groping and grabbing onto your flesh, from your ass and thighs to your tits.
“mhhh— ‘toru, god,” you sigh, feeling yourself get wet from just his confessions, “you can have me, all of me.”
your lover grunts at your words. they were exactly what he needed to hear. he roughly pulls the hem of your dress up, revealing your white panties. his all time favourite. a small, lustful grin instantly appears on his face. he always thought that you looked extra innocent in those; and that by ripping those off, that he’ll corrupt that ‘pure’ image.
and don’t let him start on how many times he’s used that specific pair of panties to jerk off. he vividly remembers how his sticky cum covered the cloth afterwards.
“haah—fuckfuckfuck,” satoru curses repeatedly as his fingertips tremble out of pure desire, “can’t wait any longer. you’re gonna walk around the avenue with no panties later on, ‘kay?”
“sato-” your eyes widened and before you could even protest, you hear the fabric of your underwear tearing. the ripped off cloth falling down onto the cold floor.
“there we go,” he mutters in delight, his eyes gazed at your exposed pussy. his fingers rubbed over the skin, grazing the wet folds. a deep, breathy chuckle echoes throughout the bathroom, “this pussy’s just ready to be filled, don’tcha think?”
you nod feverishly and nibble on your lower lip at the way satoru was teasing your clit. his hand slowly cupped your slippery cunt, his palm covering the area entirely before slapping the velvety flesh. three small smacks, each making your limbs tremble.
“ya hear that?” satoru hums, completely overtaken by his desire for you as the squelchy sounds ring in his ears, “so ready to be stretched out and fucked.”
“hnnnh, ah, baby—please just, just fuck me.” you whimper; feeling the pressure of his hand’s thenar against your clit while his fingertips traveled across your vulva.
“oh, i definitely will.” satoru responds with a grunt as he undoes his belt and zipper with his free hand. his trousers and underwear fall down to his ankles, revealing his cock to you.
your mouth watered at the sight as it slightly slapped against his lower abdomen due to the speed at which satoru took his boxers off. the moist drops of thick pre-cum coating his pink tip, the slight curve of his big shaft and the veins covering it—you needed to have him in you.
when satoru thinks that he prepped you enough to take his cock, he removes his hand from between your legs. of course, he isn’t going to waste a chance of tasting your slick that gathered on his skin.
“turn around,” he orders after licking off his fingers and you do as said, “ass back towards me, pretty.”
one of satoru’s hands was on one side of your hips to hold you steady against the cold tiles of the bathroom wall, the other occupied with stroking his cock. satoru was already contemplating on where to cum; in or on you. he’s obsessed with spurting his sticky cum on your plump ass, however he also loved stuffing you full of it.
“deep breaths,” your boyfriend reminds you as he prods the swollen tip of his cock at your entrance—despite the prep, it was always almost impossible to avoid a slight discomforting sensation in the beginning. that man’s length was no joke.
“ahhhh, fuuuck! satoru!” you hiss and your fingernails try to dig into the wall you were pressed against. you felt your folds being forced apart to fit his cock inside of your small cunt.
“shiiit.. you’re fuckin’ tight.” satoru grits his teeth. no matter how many times he breaks your pussy in, you still feel as tight as ever, “..mmh—relax, princess.”
satoru pushed in, inch by inch, until he bottomed out and you both took a deep breath. a sloppy kiss was placed against the back of your neck as reward for taking him in. it was his habit of doing so every time the two of you get intimate.
“‘m gonna start moving. that alright?”
a simple nod coming from you was plenty to let satoru begin with slow, soft thrusts which soon enough turned into deep and firm thrusts—the pounding sounds echoing in the bathroom, “there we go—ahh, yeah— fuck!”
“mhhhg, s’good! ngh!” you slur your words a bit as satoru started to speed up the tempo, feeling his heavy balls slap against the skin near your clit every time he drove his thick cock into you, “mmph! more, wan’ more!”
neither you nor satoru could care anymore if your desperate mewls or the harsh skin-to-skin sounds were heard outside of the dimly lit bathroom.
satoru was slowly losing his mind as he gazed down at your ass and the way you moved your hips back to meet his rough thrusts—he never got enough of you in that position. his hands held onto your hips before moving to your lower back to deepen your arch a little. his eyes were in a trance; he needed to see more of that chubby ass and the recoil of it.
“i swear—you’re gonna make me,haah, cum already,” satoru moans as he tried to find a way to distract himself from the pleasure building up to a breaking point. he decides to gently bite onto your shoulder, running his tongue over the slight mark he left and then continues to suck on the flesh.
“hmmmh, haah, yes! need- need your cum in me, please- please, ‘toru!” you beg in such an erotic tone that satoru can’t help but bite down harder on your shoulder.
“princess—y-you can’t say that-” he swallows a lump in his throat as he forces his cock so deep that you felt it hit your cervix repeatedly, “please- don’t say that.. don’t, oh god—“
satoru was the one begging this time; his voice sounding more whiny than it had ever been during your little session. he can’t help it when it comes to you. he had desired to fuck you since he saw you and now that he was finally doing it, his senses were utterly overwhelmed.
“nonono,” you hear your boyfriend curse as the strokes inside your tight cunt turned harsh and quick, like he was on the verge of his climax, which he didn’t want. he didn’t want to cum in under two minutes, but he’s just so weak when it comes to you. so damn weak.
“ahhh, fuck— s-sorry, baby— can i cum? can i cum in you? please?” he bites his lips, shutting his eyes so tight that he could see colors.
“please, please, let me. mnghhh, please let me cum in you. wanna fill you up.” satoru repeats his words like a chant in your ear. you were as lost in the feeling of ecstasy as your lover was and just nodded at his whiny pleas.
“mhmm, yes, do it—cum in me!”
your permission was all satoru needed and not a second later, you felt ropes and ropes of hot cum flood your cunt and some drops gush out of your pulsating hole.
satoru was quivering slightly as he kept moving his hips in slow pumps, fucking the cum deeper into you. you were full of surprises; he didn’t know he could cum in under two minutes until right that instant. you really had him wrapped around your finger.
and the best thing? he was already starting to get hard once again.
satoru slowly pulled his dick out of you and only let the tip stay a few centimetres in you. one hand went to grab onto the base of his length and he started to tap and move the tip in tiny circular motions in your cum-filled pussy—making sure every single drop is dumped where it belonged.
“fucking greedy, ain’t ya?” satoru hisses as he feels you clench onto his tip like you were doing to his cock earlier, “your pussy just wants to milk me dry.”
you whine and push your hips back a little in attempt to push his cock further into your needy cunt again, “wan’ more.. please, ‘toru?”
gojo satoru was a weakling.
he slammed his cock fully inside of you again and didn’t care if you expected it or not; he was fucking you like there was no tomorrow. his hands were kneading the flesh of your ass, spanking it every now and then to feel you tighten up more around him while his hips were working full time.
“yeah? gonna take another load in your slutty cunt again?” satoru groans as he feels your pussy gripping onto his throbbing cock like it was pleading to be stuffed, “haaah—you’re incredible, nhh, never had anyone make me cum this quick and hard before.”
your body squirmed and shivered each time you felt satoru spank you, ending up in a repeated cycle of you tightening up around him and him smacking the fat of your ass, “yes, yes, yes! want it, please!”
it was incredibly difficult to hold back your own orgasm when satoru was whispering filthy things in your ear, pounding into your creamy pussy while also stimulating your clit.
satoru instantly caught onto the fact that you were nearing your climax. you always started to get more noisy whenever you were close, “aah, mhm—cum on my cock while i dump another load inside of you. c’mon, you can do it.”
satoru’s words made your stomach fill with butterflies, the coil inside of you threatening to finally snap.
“‘m gonna.. gonna cum! gonna cum!” you cry out between ragged breaths, eyes rolling into the back of your head once you reached your long-awaited climax.
the sight of you arching your back even more while you came was the hottest thing satoru’s seen. he rushed his thrusts, becoming more precise to hit your cervix over and over again.
“mhm, jus’ like that—tighten up more.” your lover hisses and his nails dug into the flesh of your hips while he felt your pussy throbbing from overstimulation, “milk me dry, pretty—fuck!”
your mind was foggy with that euphoric feeling after reaching your orgasm. but also due to satoru continuing to bully his thick cock all the way in you, seemingly needing to drain his balls inside your cunt.
“mhhhhnn, ‘m gonna fill ya up again,” he whimpers a bit into your ear from behind while sweat drips from his forehead, “take it all like a good girl, yeah? don’t—haah— waste a drop.”
and with that he spurts and squirts strings of cum into your womb once more. it felt like there was no ending to it as his semen just continued to pump out of the tip.
“fuckkk! got more for you,” satoru almost sobs out, his tongue peeking out from behind his lips as his muscles tense up. he came so much into you that even more of the liquid drizzled down on the floor beneath you, “take it—yeah—jus’ like that.”
a few more deep and chaste strokes and satoru was done. he exhaustedly rests his chin on your shoulder, white locks clinging onto his forehead and his cheeks colouring a reddish hue.
“haahh.. that was amazing.” satoru sighs deeply, trying to catch his breath while wrapping his arms around your waist. he buried his face into your neck, leaving small pecks there while mumbling about how good you were for him.
your eyes were closed as you rest against the wall, enjoying the affection from your lover while you feel his dick go limp inside you. satoru slowly pulls out afterwards, biting his lip as his gaze lingered on all the fluids leaking down your trembling thighs.
“hold on,” satoru murmurs gently, “gonna clean you up, princess.”
his own legs were shaking slightly as he quickly put his boxers and pants back on. your boyfriend grabs a few tissues from a nearby dispenser, kneeling behind you afterwards.
your eyes followed his fingers as they held onto the wipes and started to clean you up slowly. the comfortable silence—excluding the muffled sounds of chatter and music from outside the bathroom—was perfect for you to catch your breath.
satoru was diligently sliding the tissues over your skin, making sure to not be too rough.
as much as he tried telling himself not to get turned on again from the sight of your ass and sopping cunt in front of his face, he just couldn’t.
your lover was breathing heavily and stopped cleaning you up for a second. he really tried his best to stop himself over and over, though the title of being the strongest didn’t apply to his self control.
his large hands came up to hold onto your ass, spreading the cheeks apart which made your lips part in shock. you looked over your shoulder at him and sensed the resurfacing lust in the air. not only that: his warm breath hit your sensitive pussy as he panted in a hungry way.
satoru lifted his head up to meet your eyes, flashing you a (not so) apologetic grin;
“sorry, pretty. i need to get my dessert.”
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ncroissant · 30 days
Note
I just read your Sub! Frances fic and OHMYGOD??? GORGEOUS. AMAZING. HOLY HELL THIS IS THE FIRST FIC THATS MADE ME FEEL THIS WAY I—A JOB MOST CERTAINLY WELL DONE 😭💕✨🙌
I was wondering if you were up to writing more of it? I had this idea for Sub! Frances where he’s a doppelgänger and reader is part of the DDD cleanup crew…except when Frances’s doppelgänger is sent over to them, they decide to initiate a so-called mandatory ‘procedure’ to ‘discipline him’ if you know what I mean…🤭🤭 maybe even throw in some overstim and mind break~
Buttt feel free to ignore this if you want to, no pressure :)
sub! doppelgänger francis mosses x d.d.d! gn! reader
summary: how the clean-up crew likes to deal with slutty doppelgängers
wc: 1.5k
content warning: nsfw, dub-con, spanking, ball play, mind-break, overstimulation, fingering, anal, cock can be seen as strap, cum play, dirty talk, nipple play
author’s note: hi guys! sorry for the wait, but thank u sm for 150 follows omg, u guys have been blowing up my blog ily all. thanks for the ask anon, i love this concept and i'm so happy u liked my first francis fic :') hope u enjoy this one too !! not proofread, minors please dni !!
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the calls to the d.d.d. were slow today.
but when you finally got a call from the nearby apartment's security guard, you were quick to accept the job. what you weren't expecting was to find such a handsome man, awaiting his sentence, upon your arrival.
you soaked in the sight of him. his all too tight uniform and his dopey little hat that was a size too big, slipping over his brunette eyes. his sunken eye bags, long lashes and pleading expression.
the alarm was blaringly loud and the lights were blinding, but you still made your way over to the doppel, your breath fogging up with hazmat suit.
"i'm here for a mr. francis mosses?" you inquired, cautiously stepping closer to him. "is that you? or who you're impersonating, hm?" you tilted your head, driving him against the wall.
his eyebrows furrowed, back pressed flat against the wall in attempts to escape. he stayed silent, but you continued to stalk forward. "can't talk, huh?" you scoffed, shaking your head disappointedly.
your head turned to look at the aluminum sheet covering the security guard's window. you slipped your phone out of your pocket, dialing the security guard. "this might take a while. keep that window closed, yeah?"
you hung up, stuffing your phone away. your head quickly turned to look at francis with a glare. "turn around," you demanded, nodding your chin towards the wall.
"what?" the frown on francis' face deepened. you clicked up tongue, disappointed with his reaction. you gathered his wrists together, spinning him around and pressing his chest against the wall. his pants were so tight that you could see the outline of his balls.
"listen to me, slut," you growled, tightening the grip you had on his wrists. "when i tell you do something, you do it, yeah?" his back arched, rubbing the bulge of your cock against his ass.
"are we clear?" you glared down at him as he looked back at you with widened eyes.
"y-yes..." he shyly nodded with a huff.
you smiled at his obedience, moving back to create space between yourselves. "now, i know you've been a bad boy. messin' with the security guard, knowing you can't enter the building like this," you started, grabbing the fat of his ass.
he gasped, biting down on his lip to suppress the lewd sounds that were so desperately spilling out of his lips. "since you wanna be a brat. let me show you how we deal with bad boys like you." you spanked his ass roughly, kneading it gently afterwards.
"h-HNG!?" he panted when you slipped off his pants, exposing his bare ass. his cock twitched at the feeling of you pressing him against the brick wall, the ridges rubbing against his perky nipples.
"no underwear?" you chuckled, dragging your fingers down to fondle his balls. he squirmed in your gasp, little whimpers escaping his mouth.
he shook his head when he felt your thumb circling around the rim of his hole. "unnghhh...'s dirty down there, ooohh...!" your fingers slipped in so easily from the accumulation of sweat and slick, making him jolt at the thickness of your fingers.
"so deep, mmMNGH! y'keep hittin' that, hngh, s-spot..." he whined, leaning head back in bliss. the room was filled with the sound of francis' moans and the sloppy wet sounds of your fingers ramming into his hole.
you fucked your fingers into him, grazing them against his balls. and every time he got used to the thickness of your finger, you'd add another one to catch him off guard.
as much as he wanted to deny it, he was shamefully enjoyed the way your fingers pressed deep against his prostate. "ooOGHHH! m' g'na c-cum, HNGH! 'm c-cumming, cumming!" he whimpered, cum coating the wall.
his cum dripped onto his white uniform pants and rolled down the inner sides of his legs. he was shaking against you, slumping backwards into your arms.
"you think i'm gonna let you off the hook just 'cause you're cute, huh?" you shoved him deeper against the wall, the bumps flicking his nipples when you pulled him up. "who gave you permission to cum?"
his face paled as he shuddered at the look on your face. "'m sorry! needed t'cum s-so bad," he pleaded, shaking his head when you wrapped an arm around his tummy to arch his back more.
you dropped his wrists for him to ball his hands into fists against the wall to stabilize himself. "okay, be a good and count for me, then." he looked confused at what you meant then yelped when your hand came down on his ass.
"GHK!" he shrieked when you smacked his ass again.
"i'm not hearing any numbers, slut," you tsked, slapping his ass again. it was blooming pink, a stark contrast to the pale white earlier.
you spanked him again, prompting a moan from him. "hNGH! o-one, mnghh..." he huffed, he looked back at you with his cheek smushed against the wall.
you continued to torment his ass until it was bright red, throbbing when you brushed your hand over it. "you learn your lesson yet, or should we do five more, hm?" you cooed, rubbing the fat of his ass soothingly.
"n-no more, hnggh...learned my lesson," he begged, tears filling his eyes.
you laughed under your breath at his desperation, giving him a break. "alright, alright. quit your whining, needy boy." you caressed his cheek, wiping a tear from his eye. "c'mere."
you took him off the wall, leading him over to the aluminum covered window. he stood there in confusion, wondering if his punishment was already over. "are you letting me go now?" he furrowed his brows.
you laughed at his assumption. if only he could see what he looked like right now. his pants and underwear pooled at his ankles, his ass blooming red with cum splattered on his shirt with his nipples poking out.
the way he looked back at you with a flushed expression and tears lining his waterline made your cock throb in your pants. "i'm not letting you go for a long time, slut," you shook your head, unzipping your pants.
francis' heart thumped out of his chest at the sight of your bulge. "i'm not so sure how sound-proof this window is..." you stated, cock springing free from your underwear. "so unless you want the security guard to hear how much of a slut you are. i suggest you keep it down."
"m-mkay, i'll do my best," he nodded with a cute little pout on his lips. he looked so serious, wanting to impress you so badly.
"good boy," you stroked at your cock, inching closer to francis. "spread yourself open for me, yeah?"
francis' hands gripped at his ass cheeks, revealing his throbbing, dripping hole. his cheek was pressed against the glass of the window, looking at you for approval.
you slowly entered him, the tightness of his entrance making you grit your teeth. "hooHNGH! o-oh my god...haah," his mouth hung open, drool dripping down his lips.
he's never felt anything like this, nestled so deeply in his ass. the way you stuffed him so easily, kissing his prostate upon entry, made his cock twitch with pleasure.
"fuck. such a tight little thing, aren'tcha?" you grunted with a chuckle, you cock completely disappearing within him. "took me so well though, hm?"
you quickened your pace, thrusting into him with more ease. "n-nghhh! y-you're hitting that spot a-aghhhNGH, again..! 's too big, mmfph!"
you shoved your fingers into his mouth to silence him, rubbing your fingers against his tongue. "haaaaghnn! feelsh sho g-good, ahhnn..." he muffled out, even with your fingers filling his throat.
"told you to keep quiet," you grit your teeth, feeling him tighten up. "bratty boy isn't listenin' to me again. want me to stop?" you threatened, pulling out.
"n-no! k-keep fuh-ghh...f-fucking me, please! d-don't pull out, mnngh!" he begged, shaking his head furiously.
your tip teased at his entrance before fucking into him furiously. it's not like you could resist indulging him, especially with the expression he was making. eye rolled back, tongue sticking out with tears and drool spilling out.
he looked like a common whore, humping against you like a bitch in heat. "ooGHHK! r-right there! f-fuck, 'm close, hngh!" he nodded mindlessly.
your grip on his waist was bruising, as your free hand rubbed the buds over his shirt. "o-ooh, oh! c-cumming, c-cumming 'gain, h-HNGHHK!"
cum spilled into francis' hole, filling him up generously. his own cock was covering in cum as it had stained the window along with his fingerprints.
your fingers fucked the cum that was spilling out back into his hole as francis twitched in your hold. "feelin' alright, tiger?" you cooed, feigning innocence as if you hadn't just breeded his tight, little hole and filled him with your seed.
"u-uh-huh. wan' more...?" he nodded in a dazed, rutting his ass against your fingers. he cupped his chest, flicking his nipple with his thumb. "'again, ngh?"
the smile on your face was pure evil. he looked so desperate for your cock, your fingers weren't cutting it for him anymore. "fuckin' hell..." you cursed, tugging your cum-covering fingers out.
"again," you smirked, thrusting into him roughly.
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macfrog · 2 months
Text
psyche and cupid | one shot
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happy valentine's, beautiful people. i love you with all of my heart. xx shoutout to @familyvideostevie for putting joel's slutty little thigh holster into my head and, well. yeah. pairing: jackson!joel miller x fem!reader summary: valentine's day with joel doesn't go to plan. warnings: part two never happened!!!!! abby who!!!, established relationship, cursing, half joel pov, unspecified age gap, hints to reader having a sliver of ptsd, jesse is alive and well because he is my prince and i said so, reader has dark pubic hair, masturbation, somnophilia (not discussed in this fic but she is a-ok with it) and therefore dubcon, sprinkle of praise kink, oral (f!receiving), someone comes in his underwear, these two goofballs are big in love word count: 5.5k
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It’s not in his nightstand.
Not hung over the newel post, either.
He said he left it on the kitchen counter yesterday, right after he got home; said he woke up this morning and it was gone. And then he muttered something of an accusation that someone had tidied it away and forgotten where, and that started a whole new argument.
You know what, Joel? You’re following his tall figure as it sways down the hallway, his strides longer and considerably smoother than your flurrying shadow in his wake. Maybe if you weren’t going out today, we wouldn’t be having this problem.
His chin tilts upward, salt and pepper scruff angled to the ceiling with a ha slung from his throat. Yeah, he tosses a glance over his shoulder, we’d just be havin’ it tomorrow, instead.
You scoff in response, stepping where his boots lift off from, following the heavy thud thud thud like a cat at his heels until he’s rounding the corner towards your bedroom.
You pass over the messy trail of your jeans and Joel’s pajama bottoms, your underwear and his leading in a trail to the unmade bed – sheets like a rippled wave painted golden by the dawn.
The two of you split off – Joel lifts the cotton and watches it float back down over the flat of your mattress. Nothing.
You take the closet – the squeal of metal on metal harsh in your sleepy ears as you shove the hanging clothes aside, swiping around at the floor. Also, unsurprisingly, nothing.
Deflated, you straighten, stars peppering your vision and a tatty sleepshirt pinched in your fingers. Led Zeppelin – some band Joel was into before everything went to shit. You’ve listened to him out on the porch before, plucking strings in time with the record wobbling on the turntable inside.
The collar torn, sleeves pecked with holes, print lost to the years and the dryer – but each time you drape it over your shoulders, he smiles and hums some song from a world you’ll never know.
It’s sweet, when you’re in the mood to be wooed.
Which, incidentally, is not right fucking now.
His eyes flit down to the peeling, grayscale image – and that same smile attempts to bloom on his lips. That’s cute, but it ain’t my holster, pretty bird.
His smirk dampens quickly when he looks back up, snuffed by your stony expression.
You whip the tee down to the foot of the bed. You are a piece of fuckin’ work sometimes, do you know that? you growl, storming by him for the en suite.
Joel’s rough hand slips around your wrist, tugging gently but letting you drag him through to the bathroom.
Just go, Joel, you groan, the chill of the room prickling goosebumps on your naked legs. Give  me some peace and quiet. ‘s not like I’m gonna be seein’ much of you today, anyways.
Is that what this is about? His voice echoes in the morning blue, round in your ears as you hang your head over the sink. Pickin’ a fight ‘cause you’re pissed I’m goin’ out?
I didn’t start the fight, you protest. You’re the one who lost his holster.
Didn’t lose it… he mumbles, lips closing around the sentence when he catches your glare in the mirror. He crosses one ankle over the other, toe of his dusty boot on the cracked tile, and sighs. What do you want me to do, baby? I gotta do my job.
On Valentine’s Day? When I worked extra to get it off, and you can’t even get your brother to swap one shift?
Joel’s expression seems to stiffen, tense with a realization that you know, and now he knows, too – he should’ve had days ago. A weighty breath falls from his nostrils, admitting some kind of defeat, and then he’s wandering carefully over to you, two hands curved over your shoulders.
He lowers his forehead onto the nape of your neck, a slow breath which flutters the loose collar of the flannel you’re wearing and sweeps down your spine. I’m sorry, pretty bird. I didn’t know it meant that much to ya.
It doesn’t, you admit, adding, usually. I just thought we could have a day to ourselves, for once.
He’s nodding, sweep of his fringe tickling the slope of your skin. It’d be a lot more romantic than spendin’ it with Jesse, that’s for sure.
Your bodies fall together with a shared laugh, a bright and charming thing in the dull bathroom light. Joel kisses the soft cushion of your shoulder and hooks his chin over, beard grazing your skin.
I’ll be back before you know it. ‘n then we can do whatever the hell you got planned for us, hm?
He’s steady behind you when you lean back, turning to place a damp kiss to the hinge of his jaw. A reply, a plea – a promise.
In the echoing dripdripdrip from the faucet, Joel pulls apart from you, two fingers pinching the hem of your shirt to pull you back into the bedroom.
You wanna walk me to the gate? he asks, pulling the zipper on his jacket.
What about your holster?
He smiles. I’m sure I’ll survive without it. C’mon. Put some pants on.
February is bitter even by Jackson’s standards – a bite of ice in the air which numbs the tip of your nose and stings the helix of your ears. The chill slips a long, sharp finger down the collar of your – Joel’s jacket, and you wrap the baggy canvas tighter around yourself.
Told you to wear som’ thicker. Joel sighs, grip light around the strap of his shotgun. His elbow nudges into yours, a wide arm wraps around your shoulder and draws you flush against his side. Head on back if you’re cold, he says, rubbing until the friction warms your upper arm.
I’m fine, you lie, eyeing the line of horses up ahead. The eager crunch of their hooves in the frozen ground, the pinkish light on their backs from the sky flooded crimson overhead – a warning from the horizon, you think.
It seems to agitate the animals as much as it does you, their heavy heads tossing nervously, ears flicking and inky eyes blinking.
Jesse meets you by the paddock, slipping Joel the reins of his horse with a curt nod, before hoisting himself atop his own.
It bleats from your lips before you can hold it back. Be careful.
Your frozen fingers claw around the zipper of his coat, tugging it upwards until it brushes against his bottom lip. The weather gets bad, you turn back. Okay?
He’s nodding, paying half his attention to your words, the other half to the little crease between your brows. Sure could use my holster against the cold, baby, he mutters, smirk lifting his cheeks and folding similar creases at the corners of his eyes.
Your eyes narrow, palms landing flat against his strong chest. Home soon?
He hums a little laugh, lips ghosting across your temple as he shifts by. Home soon, he mutters, breath steaming against your cold skin, and he leads the mare off towards the gate.
There’s a lot about Joel you admire.
Each part of him like a pebble stolen on a hike; some more jagged, a little more weathered than others, some well-rounded and smooth to the touch. Each one turned and turned and turned between your fingers until you’re fluent in every pore and vein, then dropped into your pocket alongside the others you’ve collected.
Clacking against one another until you arrive home, coat heavier with the happy burden of how much you love him. The same weight you feel behind your ribcage when you think too much about it.
He takes good care of you – has done since you first happened across one another. As if hanging his hunting jacket over your frail body was a wing over your shoulders; as if, from then on, you would never make a single move again without your grizzly bear of a man making it first.
Quiet about it, sure. Subtle. Opens the crook of his elbow for you to hook your wrist around as you wander through town together, and waits until you’re under the cover of nightfall or behind the close of your front door to do much else.
Asks with little more than a fleeting glance if you’re okay; a squeeze of your knee under the table in the dining hall. A conversation shared between closed lips and the meeting of his honey-flecked gaze, and yours. A language which lives and dies with the pair of you.
He’s guarded – and for all that he’s been through, you figure you can allow him that. Allow him his private peace. For all that he says without saying, all he does without making some big song and dance of it – there hasn’t been a second since you arrived here on the back of his horse, that you haven’t known he loves you.
It’s in him like it’s in you. A fever which broke at the first touch of his hand and yours, the first meeting of his warmth and your chill. Two opposites – cooling the painful sear in his heart, warming the barren frost in yours. Something sewn deep into your flesh, carved right through to the hollow of your bones.
And Jesus, if it doesn’t drive you fucking insane.
The front yard needs tidied up after winter, you notice, as you scuff your way up the path towards the porch. Once the last of the snow dries up, you two can get to repairing the damage done by the blizzards and the gales: fitting new shutters, planting new bulbs.
A cycle you’re still getting used to: the upkeep of a place called home. The strange feeling of having someone you call the same thing.
Your extra shifts at the stables and Joel’s long mornings out on the trails mean your home has gone neglected for a few days. Dishes and cutlery left in the sink, a pile of laundry slowly sprouting to new heights like a wild plant each time you cast a wary glance at it.
It’s not like you’ve much else to do, given Joel won’t be home for at least another couple hours. So you shuck off your jeans, letting the tail of his shirt dangle from your behind, and pick your way around each room – wiping counters and dusting corners, humming along to the crooning old records as they spin in the background.
Playing house at the end of the world. Pretending to listen for the tired exhale of a yellow school bus, mimicking the electrified babble of radio presenters between each track.
The bedroom is arguably the worst offender. Bedsheets used a few days too long, clothes strung across the floor – the relics of a late one at the Tipsy Bison. It’s no wonder you’re so fucking tired.
Echoes of stumbling footsteps and hushed, drunken giggles loop your ears, the groaning bedsprings and blunt thud of the headboard. You pluck the underwear and socks one by one, your body wincing around a satisfied ache still lingering, and shuffle over to the laundry hamper, lifting the lid to –
The dopey smile on your lips dissolves instantly. You gotta be fucking…
The buckle glints in the light, silver blinking up at you from its bed of dirty laundry. The tan strap coiled and neatly slung through its fastener; the pouch empty. Awkward and ashamed, lying there in front of you. Apologetic, almost.
Your eyes roll closed; a short, hot breath seeping past your lips. A silent promise embedding beneath your tongue to take him by the sleeve as soon as he crosses the threshold, force him to lift the lid himself. An I told you so already brewing in the pit of your stomach.
The holster’s actually pretty heavy when you lift it up in the light. Leather a little worn, stitching frayed where it should clip around his belt.
It’s the size and width of him: a thick, toned thigh slotted inside the loop of leather, fixed by fingers long void of feeling when he’s been riding to the outpost, chasing infected, plunging his knife deep into their necks.
Patrol was never your thing. Joel took you out just once – but there are cracks in your past which threaten to split you in two, it seems, the longer you spend outside the settlement walls. Phantoms which follow close behind in the form of snapping twigs, of the wind rustling in the trees overhead. Shadows living in your periphery with curled sneers and spits of filth.
You lasted twenty minutes, that first and only day, before Joel had your horses tied together and your body shelled in his own, taking you straight back home.
But the thought of this around his thigh, the thought of him adjusting it to the waistband of his jeans; his hand floating down to settle gently atop it when he’s listening for danger approaching, two fingers slipping into the trigger guard.
It…stirs something.
You pad over to the bathroom, hopping as you step into the strap. He wears it on his right leg, right? You pull it past your ankle, ball of your foot slamming clumsily back down on the tile.
Adjusting it to fit your thigh, you bunch the hem of his shirt in one fist and stare back at your reflection. Her nervous stance, hips swaying left to right as she peruses the figure opposite.
Who is she, this mirage – naked thigh decorated with her man’s leather, fingernails tracing the messy stitching and imagining the weight of his gun, keen in the pouch?
A strange aura of possession about it, like a part of him locked firm around a part of you, from however many miles away. You swear you can feel the ghost of his warmth on the inside of the strap, wrapped around your sensitive skin.
Yeah.
Stirs something, alright.
Joel’s been gone little over an hour. He’s probably at the outpost by now, logging All clear and pretending to let Jesse take the lead. Wide shoulders swaying as he wanders from room to room, a careful scope of the valley from each window, tongue tracing the bottom of his teeth.
Ridges of his knuckles white around the grip of his shotgun, squinting down the barrel. Lines drawn between his brows and at the corners of his eyes like scores on parchment, focus and concentration tight on his face.
You sink back into the cradle of your bed, that divot where his body and yours meet each night. Each part of you intertwining with a part of him: the place where you become one. His smell and your touch, your giggle and his teeth.
A sudden, powerful thing which hammers through your veins and jumps your body for a few seconds – you pull the first orgasm from between your legs within a matter of minutes. The sight of his shirt disturbed over your stomach, the feeling of blood squeezing past taut leather enough to throw you under by itself, never mind the fast snap of your fingers deep inside your body.
Another – slower, lazier, still vibrating from the first – then almost a third, but the crinkle of sheets at your ears, the pillow-soft landscape beneath your heavy body, begins to sweep you off somewhere.
And in as little time as it took to entice you into the water in the first place, you slip beneath the waves.
The house is quiet when he finally makes it home.
Jesus, Joel thinks, what a shift.
Not one infected the entire run, he can’t quite believe – but Jesse caught his palm on some warped sheet of chain link fence, then almost passed out when he looked down and saw the scarlet seeping from his shredded skin.
The pair sat for half an hour, unsheltered in the unforgiving wind, waiting for the kid’s head to stop spinning and the cold to rob the feeling from his hand.
All Joel wanted was to get home to you. You, and your hips swaying as you stand by the stove, and his hands kneading into the velvet plush of your waist, and the smell of burnt sausages and spatter of angry oil from the pan.
He’s so late. He said he’d be as quick as he could, said you’d barely know he was gone, and he’s so fucking late.
But he’s here now, at least.
He’s home.
As he kicks off his boots, snow sprinkling from the soles onto the doormat, he notices the absence of your arms around his waist. The missing weight at the back of him, no ear flat against his spine and hands interlocked above his belt. No relieved, I missed you, no nuzzle of your head under his arm.
The house is still and dim. The turntable spins in the corner, a dead crackle playing nothing for no one. Joel sniffs, eyeing the room and its new, orderly form: the books slotted neatly on their shelves, the rings of coffee wiped clean from the table.
Lifting the needle from the record, Joel calls out, Baby?
Maybe you’re in town somewhere. Maybe you’ve gone to spend the morning with the horses. But then, you would’ve been watching for his arrival. Would’ve skipped out from the stables and swung around his body, a gleeful smile and an outstretched hand. Take me home, cowboy.
And you wouldn’t have left the lights still burning, the player still turning. Your coat is still on its hook, smaller and brighter and where it belongs on the right of Joel’s. The cushions on the couch are fluffed and smooth, perched contentedly in place; the curtains draped in their tie backs.
You’re home. You’ve been home all morning.
So where the fuck are you?
Joel crosses over to the bottom of the stairs, blinking up at the painted cowboys and horses staring down from the landing. Calls your name, a faint singsong as he slowly ascends the stairs. You up there?
Down the wintery dull hallway to the bedroom door, figuring he knows the answer. And he’s right, isn’t he, when he nudges the door open and peers inside, spots the tiny lump of you in your double bed. Sunk deep into the mattress – covers you’d come in here to change, swallowing you whole.
A crooked, exhausted smile pulls across his lips; his thumb hooks around a belt loop, knee cocking.
You’re so…perfect. So heavenly, so still like this – stretched out on your front, breathing in the scent of his pillow and breathing out little puffs of air.
Joel leans over you, a heavy hand pushing into the mattress above your shoulder, and runs a featherlight knuckle over your cheek.
Pretty bird? he whispers, lighter than the long breaths from your sleep-swollen lips.
You don’t stir. No movement, save for the rise and fall of your shoulders wrapped up in his flannel.
Joel feels a pang of guilt, numbed only by the chill still through his body: he woke you this morning, before even the sun had lifted her head. Had you hunting all over the house with him, for some dumb holster that he wound up not even n–
His eyes trail down the shape of your body, draped in the sheets like white marble carved into the round shape of something beautiful, hands following the curve of your thigh. His wrist freezes when it meets the odd bulge of something, an awkward bump beneath the cotton.
He peels the sheet back, lifting it from your shoulders, your waist, your hips – until your angled thigh lies on full display for his feasting eyes.
His fucking holster…wrapped tight around your fucking thigh.
A disbelieving laugh at first – a She told me so, before he notices the indents in your skin, the stretched leather snug around your leg, riding higher than it should at the doing of your slumber.
Christ, baby, he breathes, stare glued to the folds of plaid hooked around the belt loop. Following the tatty hem down past your hip, along the underside of your ass – riding up some, right where your legs part.
And between them, all sheer and thin, twisted around itself and slipping between: your underwear. The threading of pubic hair peeking over the frilled hem of it; the sight filling Joel’s mouth with saliva.
A heavy heat forms in his jeans, an irritable weight which aches when he moves; which hardens when he pictures the image of you in his bed, his shirt, his holster wrapped around your thigh – playing with yourself while he’s been gone.
Fuck. Fuckin’…shit.
He lowers, running lips he knows are freezing cold along the burning surface of your skin, tongue slipping past his teeth to drag a wet trail along your thigh.
Your leg shifts under his touch, the startle of his chilled fingertips behind your knee, nuzzling of his nose where the holster sits smugly on your thigh. Smelling like leather and salt, the sticky sheen of sweat still glowing on your skin.
Joel takes your waist in two hands – he can’t fucking help himself, can he? – and turns you, patiently, watching as you roll onto your back so he can drag you further down the bed. Tongue flicking at the corners of his lips, thirsty for something he only wants you to feed him.
Slow, slowly. Every effort put into not waking you, to keeping you in this peachy haze between asleep and awake; your movements long and staggered, held firm against the mattress by the weight of your doze.
With a sigh, your jaw turns to one side. Joel pulls you in, kneeling at the edge of the bed with your socked feet resting on his shoulders. His shirt gathers around your waist; your hips and the thin twine of your underwear spotlighted by stripes of weakened sunlight spilling in through the blinds.
Oh, pretty bird, he groans, slipping his open palms under your ass, rough and squeezing the pillows of flesh in his hands. This all for me?
A moan wrapped in a hefty breath twists from your lips. Your knees fall limp; legs open almost eagerly, like your body inviting him in. And he accepts, takes it with eyes blown black and hungry lips parted – leans in and nestles his nose against the thrumming heartbeat pounding through your clit.
Such a good girl, he whispers, closing his lips in a kiss over your clothed mound, and your hips jolt.
You’re so fucking warm. So wet; sticky and so ready for him. He kisses your folds, suckling gently and letting his tongue dart along the inseam of your lips in flicking movements – collecting the taste of salt and feeling his cock throb against rough denim.
Off? he asks – you and the room and himself – fingers hooking around the underwear rolled on your hips.
When your back arches, body feeling the loss of his tender kiss, rolling like a wave seeking to crash against the steady rock form of his – he smirks to himself.
Joel nods. Off.
He takes his time peeling them from your body, watching as more and more of his paradise is revealed. The waves of your folds, the sheer glisten of arousal along them; the dark hair peppering either side as damp and slick as the skin beneath it.
Your panties drop from a hooked finger without a sound and he turns back, hovering over your waiting cunt with wide eyes and a slack jaw. Out front, voices call back and forth to one another – some neighborly greeting and affable conversation – but Joel doesn’t hear. Deafened to anything but the sound of your sighs and his own blood hammering through his ears.
It’s a little rushed, a tad rough, the way he presses his lips back to yours. The way his beard grazes against your most sensitive spot, and the gasp he swears he hears lift from your tongue.
But fuck, he’s missed this, the way he always does – without knowing, without actively thinking about it, without knowing it was even at home waiting for him. If his mind weren’t on an entirely different planet right now, he’d curse that goddamn chain link for holding him up, for keeping him away longer than thirty seconds from the sweet little angel resting in his bed, and the sweet little pussy between her legs.
He parts your thighs wider, tongue dipping lower and deeper as he laps at your core, almost fucking panting against it.
You squirm lazily beneath him, shoulders tensing and untensing, a half-limp wrist lifting to pet his hair and an attempt at his name between your lips. Joel, you whimper, thick with sleep and something more dangerous.
I know, baby, he’s telling you, I know, and his tongue slips inside again. His hips grind into the mattress, cock an agonizing stiff against the sturdy edge. He can feel the wet in his boxers, the precome sticking to the inside of the cotton.
Fuck, he wants to be inside you so badly, so desperately.
Another gasp sputters across your lips, cut short in your throat when his teeth bump against your clit.
Too hungry, too brash, he thinks. You’re too soft, too open for him to let it go to waste. Not like this.
He pulls back, a filthy thread of arousal and saliva between his open lips and yours, and places a sodden kiss to the inside of your thigh.
But you whine, you poor little thing – your head twisting to the other side, a second hand now blindly surfing across his shoulder, past the brush of his beard and sifting through his still-chilly hair. The loss of attention to your pussy aching between your legs; your hips lifting weakly to meet the scratch of his chin again.
And that same sound – that same Jo-oel – a sound like song, like saccharine dripping over his shoulders.
So, he lifts a hand – two middle fingers coming together to push open your cunt, instantly sliding in knuckle-deep. Sucked in by the wet mess left behind by his lips, stretching you out with slow, round movements.
You’re slowly stirring, blossoming from your sleep and turning slowly back into this world. The cold edges seeping in, the warm flush of pleasure sharpening at their meeting. He’d do anything, he thinks, to keep you here; keep you teetering on the edge, tangled up between your world and his.
J– oh, fu-uck, you whine, and he can tell you’re still blinkered by sleep. But you grind on him again – a long, languid movement which seems to spatter out at its end when the coarse hair of his beard catches against your clit.
The breath stops in your throat, punching out in a shuddered moan. Joel could come just from the sound of it.
You gonna give me one, baby girl? he pleads, forearms clamping down on the underside of your thighs. Desperate – desperate to feel you, hear you, taste you as you come undone. Just one.
You’re writhing around beneath him, as needy as he is. A winding which matches his, coiling at the bottom of your stomach; a feeling which pulls at the corners of your lips and shocks them into a smutty, half-conscious smile. Your eyes roll back, fluttering open and then snapping shut when the light floods in.
There, you say, clearest so far, movements the strongest he’s felt. Your fingers root in his hair, rough over his scalp. Keep – keep doin’ that.
Joel smiles against your mound; a cocky thing, emboldened by the sound of that little Texan twang, the curl of an accent which doesn’t belong to you. Rather, a result of your years spent with him, watching the way his mouth shapes the words, learning the low swing and swirling melody of his tongue.
As if he’s as alive within you as he is within himself; every little thing Joel knows is him, injected into your bloodstream – his dry wit, his blunt honesty, his thick fingers and his insatiable tongue.
He slips in a third, flicking them perfectly inside of you. Beckoning your release; tongue sitting in wait, a resting point for you to grind your clit against.
And he wants it as much as you do: wants to feel the clamping of your body around him, wants to taste the flood of your orgasm as it shocks through every bone in your body.
Wants to pull three soaked, pruned fingers from your pussy and slip them over your tongue, letting you clasp your fingers around his wrist; watching the half-dozing flutter of your eyelashes as you suckle on them and make those pretty little sounds for him.
Your hand knots tighter in his hair, pelvis circling steady against his suckling lips. He can smell it on you: smell the need seeping from your pores. The sleep spilling from the corners of your mouth, the happy whimpers and quiet cries for more, more, Joel, more.
And – Shit, he breathes against you, feeling a sudden rush of electricity he knows all too well between his hips. Not now, not now not before he’s been inside – Shit, baby, gotta let me go.
You whine in refusal – a petulant sound, all stubborn and greedy. ‘m so close, I –
Pretty bird, he groans, lifting his jaw. He places a messy kiss to the crease between your core and your thigh, wrist stammering with his sudden movements. You gotta – you gotta let go, you’re gonna make me come –
You’re echoing him, mumbling the words gonna, gonna come – fuck, Joel, ‘m gonna –
Shit.
Not – Fuck – not right n– Christ, baby girl, you’re gonna – you’re –
Your walls spasm, clamping and relaxing, squeezing around his huge fingers. But it’s not that – it’s not the gush of warm fluid which seeps from between your legs, coating his knuckles and dripping into his palm.
It’s not the arch of your back, the way your breasts lift to the ceiling and his shirt slips below one nipple. Not the way your head rolls back against the mattress, a broken moan tearing in shards from your throat.
No.
It’s the way your hands leave his hair in an instant, and grip around the leather on your thigh. Skin stretching thin over your knuckles, thumbs between the strap and your sticky skin; hips still riding out your high as you ground yourself, holding onto his holster.
And it makes Joel come. Hard.
Harder than he knew possible, grinding against a mattress and the inside of his fucking jeans.
He falls forward, breathing a guttural moan into the soft swell of your stomach below your navel, fingers hooking into the baggy shirt around your arms.
Shitshitshit, he pants, feeling the warm ejaculate spurt from his cock and all over the inside of his boxers. Oh, fuck, baby. Fuck me.
His hips shudder a few more times, pressing hard into the edge of the mattress before he’s coming down, slowing to a stop – still a leaden weight on your stomach. His cock almost painful, overstimulated and oversensitive.
But then – something gently tittering. A bird singing, cooing above his head. The ground beneath his temple shakes, tremors with laughter. The dust twinkles in the sunlight, now brighter, golden, streaming through the window.
You’re awake.
Joel drags his gaze upwards, bleary and glazed with sex, and catches your eye.
Feel good? you ask, sifting hair away from his damp forehead. When was the last time that happened? Fourteen?
I don’t wanna talk about it, he mumbles into your belly.
Your chest jumps, a laugh which echoes into Joel’s ear. Tastes that good, huh?
It takes a mighty effort for him to push up on his palms, slowly crawling up the length of your body until his elbows plant firm into the mattress either side of your head. He groans as he lowers his lips, parting them to let you slip your tongue inside.
The kiss is slow, tender. Your bodies melding together, teeth clacking and jaws moving in sync. A sharp taste, sweet with a singe of bitterness to it. Perfect, you think, smirking against Joel’s cool lips.
He pulls away, lips tickling the tip of your nose deliberately.
With a giggle, you push on his chest. You should shower. You smell like patrol.
Joel cocks an eyebrow. You comin’ in with me?
Nope. I got even more laundry to do now, old man.
He entertains the quip with a subtle smile, a thing which softens the creases on his face and lights a twinkle in his eyes. Quietly, genuinely, in a way which makes your heart ache a little, he whispers, Sorry I was workin’, pretty bird.
You shrug. ‘s okay. You made up for it. And – I found your holster. You lift your knee, letting the buckle shine in the sunlight.
You did that, Joel agrees, nodding and glancing down at the thing. He hooks a finger around the strap, giving it a little shake. Maybe I oughta lose it more often.
Hm, you shrug, or I can just keep it safe for ya. Looks good, don’t it?
He feigns a disappointed smile, a resigned sigh before he looks back up.
Better ‘n when I wear it, he admits, and his lips crash down to yours again.
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sotwk · 6 months
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Rain soaked Eomer is a look no doubt but imagine if you will, ✨ Rain Soaked Boromir ✨
Or better yet...
Oil soaked Denethor 🤣
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That gif is terrible, I am sorry, lol
But seriously Boromir in a suit of armour in the rain 🌧 😍
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Oh, you made me laugh this morning, my friend @achromaticerebus! <3
I will definitely hard-pass on Wet Denethor, but Wet Boromir... oh my. Summon the rain clouds!
Thank you for your Customer Feedback; I love taking these into account!
I am now plotting where I might be able to insert into my WIP fic a rain-soaked Captain of the White Tower, with a side of slutty white shirt. (Armor is great, but then how can we SEE anything? O-O)
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whiteferrar1 · 3 months
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“Two is better than one”
Pt2 to my previous Sugu fic :3
|Summary: Gojo walks in on you and his best friend; Suguru, fucking. He can’t help but feel. little jealous. So of course, you let him join in..
|Tags: 3some, Degradation, praise, reader is a crybaby, pussy slapping, slapping, double penetration, Gojo and Suguru are mean, aftercare, no protection(Wrap if b4 ya tap it), use of weed, Gojo forces reader to smoke a blunt while yall fuck, pet names.
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All you could remember was this.
Movie marathon that you skipped out on, Suguru catches you fucking yourself, he ducks you, Gojo was there.
Everything felt like it was out of a book. Or a porno.
Gojo’s large hand wrapped around his leaking cock, a blunt dangling from his pink lips. His round sunglasses low on the bridge of his nose.
Suguru stays between as your thighs but looking back at his best friend. He smirks before nodding.
“You mind if Satoru joins?” Suguru asks you with a questioning brow. You think for a brief moment but nod in agreement.
“Yea that’s okay” You mumble. Satoru smiles happily. He takes the blunt from his lips with two fingers and exhales the smoke. He walks over to the two of you and kneels onto the bed.
“Fuck… Look at that pretty pussy” Satoru mumbles as he slaps your clit a bit.
You moan loudly at the feeling, squirming and closing your thighs shut.
“Oh please-Don’t act like you don’t like it baby” Satoru teases. Suguru chuckles at his friend, sitting up and wiping the sweat that dripped from his brow.
“She’s already been stretched pretty good, and she’s still wet as shit” Suguru starts as he takes the blunt from Satoru’s hands. He inhales a bit before grinning “I think we could both fit” He says, smoke puffing out of his lips.
“wait! B-both?” You worriedly ask. You sit up properly now. Looking between the two with widen eyes.
“Yeah.. Ya’ think we were gonna take turns?” Satoru laughs “Not how’s it’s gonna work baby” He confirms.
“Here, take a couple drags and you’ll be relaxed” Suguru tells you, referring to the blunt in between his fingers. He places the blunt inbetween your wet and puffy lips. You whine as the two men decide how they’re gonna adjust their bodies to fuck you.
You zone out when you take lazy hits from the warm blunt. Coughing the first couple before easing into it. Your head flops against the pillows, smoke pouring out of your mouth as the room begins to smell of weed, sweat, and sex.
You barely comprehend anything until you feel two cocks slip into you. The stretch is painful as you whine loudly. Your hand grips the sheets, tears slipping onto the brink of your eyes.
“Fuck- Sugu ‘toru! to much!” You state, your voice high pitched.
“Oh shut up. You can handle it.” Suguru mumbles as he bottoms out.
Satoru adjusts himself “This slutty cunt is pulling me in, she’s telling us the truth” Satoru responds as he follows suit in bottoming out into your warm wet walls.
The men take a notice of your stressed state. Satoru bends down and kisses your lips softly. He puts the blunt back between your lips “Calm down crybaby, just smoke and feel good” The blue eye man tells you before he pats you cheek.
“Gotta move” Suguru grumbles. His hand grabs the fat of your thigh and pulls it up above his arm. He pulls out a bit before ramming back in.
Loud moans freed from your mouth. The two men found a harmony in bullying their cocks tightly inside of your pussy.
“Fuckkkkk! Such a slutty pussy to such a good girl” Satoru groans out. His head tips back. His cock rubs against Sugurus inside of you. He slams in and out.
The blunt slips from your lips. Smoke exhales, sobs leaving your open mouth with moans. Suguru smiles at your face, completely fucked out.
“God even with two cocks in you, you’re still tight” Suguru praises. His balls slap across your across, his nails digging into your waist.
Satoru nods and groans in agreement. “Fuck such a good slut, eh? Look at her face. She can’t even speak!” He jokes.
The men rams their cocks into your, not letting out the pace. Moans and loud whines leave your throat, your tits bouncing up and down.
“Dumb little baby loves having her best friends fuck her” Suguru groans.
Satoru nods before he lands a slap across your pussy. He laughs when you loudly moan at that. He slaps if a couple times again before he rubs the pad of his thumb across your pussy clit.
“Thinks she’s about to cum” Suguru tells his friend “You gonna cum slut?” He asks you.
You nod your head. Eyes rolled back as the weed and two cocks make you feel like you’re floating on the clouds.
“Yeah she is! Gripping us so god damn tightly” Satoru mumbles.
Babbles of incoherent words warning them of you cumming. Their cocks ram in even faster, Satoru’s thumb rubbing circles into your clit quicker to let you reach your high.
“Come on baby, let this slutty cunt cum” Suguru almost growls.
With more sobs you cum hard. The band in your stomach snapping quickly. Your back arches off the bed.
“Fuck! Wait s-stop! To much!” You plea. Satoru shakes his head before slapping you lightly across your face.
“Nah, we gonna cum too. Don’t be selfish, slut”
You body moves across the bed to their harsh fucking. “fuck fuck fuckkkkk” Suguru moans first, his hips bucking in as his cum leaks into you.
Satoru follows quickly after, muttering praises to you and your cunt as he cums. The three of you take a few minutes before they pulls out. You hiss at the feeling as you dumbly lay on the bed.
Suguru taps your face “Come on baby” He whispers “don’t float away on us”.
The long haired ravenette presses kisses across your cheeks. You feel something wet at your pussy, you weakly open your eyes and see Satoru cleaning your with a soft rag. He rubs your thighs.
“So good sweetheart” He praises you.
You nod and whisper a thank you. The men clean themselves up before laying down next to you. You’d cuddled up to Satoru while Suguru wraps his arms around you, a hand rubbing your skin in comfort.
“You feeling okay?” is asked by one. You can only nod, barely able to even hear when you yawn.
“Dude, we fucked her dumb, literally” Laughs the other.
The two praise you while they cuddle you softly, letting you fall asleep in their arms.
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hoodie-buck · 2 months
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slutty suit fic is finished ya’ll! gonna post her up tomorrow 😌 snippets here and here.
if you’re not on my taglist and wanna be tagged specifically for this, interact with this post in some way 🫶🏼
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the bafta livestream out of context: top 60 cursed quotes.
There is nothing more cursed than the livestream I just witnessed, and I made a summary post but now I'm just going to put in quotes by the worthy maggots in the stream with no context, because BELIEVE ME THE CONTEXT DIDN'T MAKE ANYTHING BETTER. The livestream chat was NOT A PLACE OF THE LORD.
I'm going to make the quotes that were by me a different colour. Please know that I am NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR A SINGLE QUOTE OTHER THAN THOSE. SO HERE'S THE TOP 60 IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER:
Barbenhimer awakened things in me ok
aroace people the most disturbingly sexual talkers on the planet fight me on this
WHO JUST GASPED
MICHAEL SHEENS BABY TALKING BARK BADK IM A DOG BARK WOOF
I feel so sorry for this woman. She's being so heartfelt and we're here thristing over a slinky that possessed a man
IRELAAAND PLEASE ADOPT ME AS YOUR OWN PLEASE TAKE ME TO THE LAND OF UNPRONOUNCABLE WORDS, GREEN FEILD, CATHOLISISM AND HOZIER PLEASE
the urge to go to france and misgender a croissant is real
Devastated the slutty knees have gone away
So many men nowadays are so submissive and breedable like thank you lord for these men thank you
witches and murder slime tutorial
speaking of royals did the bloke who ISN'T lizzy's husband but her son apparently die yet
Turtleneck Crowley is my gender.
WE COULD HAVE LEFT IT AS NOT SAFE FOR WORK WHY THE DRTAOLS ASMI
SAY AN BFUIL CEAD AGAM DUL GO DTÍ AN LEITHREAS AN WE'LL LET YOU THROUGJ
"Oompa loompa doopety dee, I really hated being in this movie" -Hugh grant probably
IF YOU'RE A CHILD AVERT YOUR EYES FROM THAT MESSAGE IM SORRY
i want the kilt back this a betrayal
if someone put me in a room with kilt!david tennant one of us is walking out of that room pregnant and its not gonna be me
a lot of these words are in the bible and none of them should be in that order you need jesus
Can we vote to make david wear that kilt back? Maybe make him do a twirl this time
You mean Bildaddy? 😏
Honey what make you think a dude who roamed around with prostitutes and got himself more holes for mankind won't be calling bildad bildaddy? [this was about jesus btw.]
FREE THE KNEE
Show us the knees!
AND YOU'RE COMING AFTER ME FOR MY BLOWJOB BANANA
He looks like those fancy chocolates. Imma take a bite outta him. Think you'll leak molten goo like them?
My brain isn't working, I read "bratty couch jr"
i'm sorry the what holes
FIND ME ON GOAD AND I WILL MAKE YOU PAY APPROPRIATELY
I genuinely thought it was a road typo and I thought you were threatening asmi with physical violence on the road
OHH FLOWER OF SCOTLAAAAAAND
Combine that with the unfortunate oranges and see what happens.
DEVASTATING NEWS I ATE UP ALL OF THEM SO I'VE BROUGHT A BLOWJOB BANANA INSTEAD
That reminded me of the army video where the guy was deepthroating a 7 inch banana without a hitch.
OMG THEY JUST FLASHED BACK & I GOT A GLIMPSE OF THAT KILT 🥵🥵🥵
thats why apollo had to deliver you at an illegal sushi restaurant
How long do you think it would take to get david naked from his chocolate man suit? Can we set a new speedrun category?
SUPERBOWL FOR TENNANTISTS
Big feelings about pants straps in the chat tonight
Last time i check yoire supposed to thank the lord gor his gifts
HEY GUYS ASMI'S FROM A PARALLEL UNIVERSE CONFIRMED
I just have a deep appreciation for ireland
Can you use suspenders as bondage gear? I mean it looks like it would be fine? I mean if you make the length a bit more they might be more comfortable than ropes. Just sayin
All i can think when i see him in the costume is the one specific ken and oppenhimer slash fic. Lord help me i can't be saved
GIVE MY LOVE TO THE LEPRECHAAAAAAAAAAAUNSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
Like a giant orange slice on her one arm.
Stop hitting the lectern geez / what if its into that?
Men who wear suspenders are such losers like why do you need so much cloth to keep your pants up. Why dont you just wear a belt. Where do you live. What is your timezone. What are you office hours
what is this suspender shaming ari chappal for you
Aziraphales office hours are: fuck off
Put me ina room with a suspender wearing man and he shall have the same fate as kilttennant
MARIYADAM E ILLAI
It was titled "snake in my b***" It meant butt lmfao
CROWLEY AND LOKI MY GENDERFLUID ICONS
THE KNEES ARE BACK
THEKNEES GOD SAVE ME FROM THESE SINFUL THOUGHTS
What if slutshaming is my kink?
NOT THE BLOWJOB FACE NO
AT THIS POINT IF NEIL HASN'T UNFOLLOWED ME YET HE'S ASKING TO BE MENTALLY SCARRED IM SORRY
I am failing
Tagging the main culprits whose tumblr handles I know:
@thearoacemess @vitrilol @queermarzipan @good-usernames-were-taken
Cheers, maggots.
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acowardinmordor · 1 month
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Rumor Has It
Found this in my drafts and don't really remember writing it. I know it was prompted by a post I saw, but I can't find it . The only other thing I know is true in this AU is that Steve is not aware he isn't straight.
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Eddie didn't trust the rumors that plagued Hawkins. He heard them just like everyone else, sometimes he'd chase down more details if it interested him, but he didn't trust them at first contact the way that most of the denizens of the town seemed to. The ones that faded away in a few days were obviously fake. The ones that lasted weeks probably had some grain of truth. But this one, now six months old, but still only whispered about, should have been counted as truth. If it lasted that long, it had to be true. Eddie still didn't trust this one.
Not when it was a rumor that was, quite literally, the stuff of his dreams.
Steve Harrington was gay.
According to rumor.
The story started sometime after he got dumped by Wheeler and got his shit rocked by Hargrove. Eddie didn't know where it came from, but he heard it said for the first time a few weeks later. Hargrove never said that it was why Harrington got beat to hell, but he gave a nasty grin if the topic came up that implied a hell of a lot about Harrington on the rebound.
And Eddie didn't trust that. He didn't trust it when Tommy H started telling tales from their freshman year. Or when some of the guy's attempted-hookups started talking.
Eddie didn't trust it because it spread fast, stuck around, had plenty of sources, but it also never got said to Harrington's face. And if there was one thing that Eddie was sure of, it was that no one in that damn town had a problem throwing out slurs if it was even possible someone was different.
According to the rumor mill, that was because Harrington's dad had a connection with the mayor and enough money to bring the police down on anyone that started something. So it remained a rumor, remained in the background, and Eddie remained unconvinced.
Until Eddie went to the mall.
Embarrassing uniforms to earn minimum wage was not evidence. Though it was eye candy.
A different facet of the rumor said that Harrington Sr made Steve get the job as a punishment for the facade of heterosexuality slipping. So, no, the ridiculous, awful, wonderful, slutty little sailor suit didn't count as evidence of the guy's sexual or romantic preferences.
The lip gloss, on the other hand...
And maybe some eyeliner and mascara, but Eddie hadn't gotten close enough to be sure that wasn't his imagination.
And even then! That wasn't proof. A straight guy could use makeup. They didn't, they flipped out at the very concept, but in theory, it was possible.
Eddie wanted to know. Nay, he needed to know. His dreams, and his junior-year-crush demanded answers. Eventually, the temptation of fruit of knowledge grew to be too much.
Slipping into line behind a trio of girls, Eddie watched as Steve deployed the charming smile that had melted the hearts of half the school. Plus Eddie's. He watched it fail to work, catastrophically, and after six months of hearing this rumor and resisting the lure of believing it, he figured: fuck it, go for broke.
If it was bullshit, he'd get to be the one who broke the news to the guy, which might finally be enough to kill that stupid crush of his when Steve flipped out at the insult of the implication.
On the other hand, if it was true....
"Hi, welcome to Scoops Ahoy!"
"Well, hi there, sailor boy," Eddie flirted.
-
This is a hot potato fic. Continue it, steal it, whatever you please.
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apoptoses · 1 month
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It is #Molloy Monday and I am here to remind you that Daniel is featured most from 1975-1985 aka the Sluttiest Era of Modern Male Fashion.
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Coming in HOT we have the cut off short shorts and cropped t-shirt or mostly unbuttoned button down combo. Daniel visited some warm climates during the chase years so I invite you to picture him in the tiniest ripped jean shorts sweating over whether or not that auburn haired lady down the street is actually Armand!!
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Or going into the 80s sometimes the tops were REALLY cropped and exposed midrift and back!! Like just picture Daniel fucking around on Night Island in this, wow wow!!
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But even when the pants were long the t-shirts were TIGHT, maximum pec definition through the shirt was a must.
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If he didn't wanna show that much skin? That was fine because turtlenecks where IN baby!! These are basically vampire lingerie imo, covering up the most succulent part of the neck but still leaving a hint exposed below the jaw?? Armand had to have been dying of thirst!!!
(Also when it says Armand came to pick Daniel up from jail in a lawyer's tweed suit? He wasn't wearing no modern cut, he'd have been rocking the big lapels because this was the 70s tyvm)
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Also important to note was that the 70s were the era of glam rock and androgyny, so picking a silky button down that looks like a women's blouse? Totally okay for men, very in style so long as you leave the top buttons undone to expose maximum chest.
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Btw velour? Was IN. This is the 1979 equivalent of a juicy couture tracksuit which Armand could have snuggled right into while they were living in London.
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And while the 80s sees the rise of a looser fit, that doesn't mean the crop top died or that people weren't still rocking a more form fitted jean when they were feeling casual.
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This photo is from NYC in 1983 and shows that tight t-shirts and short shorts were still very much alive, just styled a bit differently! A tight top and looser straight leg jeans, or short bottom and a flowy open top took the place of all fitted looks.
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Or that the mostly unbuttoned button down went away- if anything in the 80s the buttons went even LOWER and more revealing. Paired with a boxy linen suit this is essential 80s Miami aka Night Island looks.
and yeah that's spader, leave me alone, he's peak 80s here
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This sweater is loose but it's got the deep V neck and a sheer knit, perfect for the beach!!
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And yeah this is Sapder AGAIN but note the half open shirt, leather jacket, and jeans that get tighter near the ankle!! Classic 80s, baggy but still sexy, A+.
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I SWEAR this is the last time I'm gonna use and abuse him but peep the muscle tank with the DIY cut edges on the arm holes! V neck! 80s!!!
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Basically the takeaway here is that if you're putting them in the 80s and having them rock something baggy and double denim, the look still featured a tight waistline and rolled sleeves or rolled ankles to tighten the jeans. It wasn't just baggy all over!!
Here's some random images from the entire era to finish off:
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So next time you're working on fic or art instead of just tossing Daniel into a regular old t-shirt and jeans consider doing some slutty 70s and 80s looks instead 😌
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gabbasposts · 6 months
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]You look like…[
Star Wars: Anakin, Luke, Kylo, Han x Reader
Warnings: Language, slightly suggestive but no smut, personal cringe because yes 😂 a lot of use of the word “slut”
Gifs not mine
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A/n: Basically another crack-fic 💀 telling the Skywalker and Solo boys they look like whores basically 😂 also ayee I finally attempted to write for the Solo’s so I hope I did a decent enough job because I’m going to be honest, I’m still not caught up with Star Wars 🤡 I finished the first three movies, and got a few comics, but I decided to spoil myself a bit to write for Kylo so yeah 💀
•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•
Anakin:
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The moment he hears your voice from the door way, he whips his head around immediately, giving you an questioning look.
“What did you say?” He ask, wanting to make sure he heard you right the first time.
“You look like a slut.” When you verify your words, his eyes narrow in on you.
But then he notices it… your lip twitching as you fight the urge to laugh at your own words.
He can’t believe you just called him that.
Like it’s the first time he’s genuinely been gobsmacked by something you’ve said to him and he can’t help but to let out a small chuckle before he starts to approach you, his open robe moving with him as he comes to stand closer to you now.
He wears a smirk on his face, his eyes dark as his fingers tilt your chin up.
“You want to talk about sluts, love? Because we can definitely talk about it if that’s where you want to take this…”
Luke:
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Deadass makes this face 🤨
“How? My shirts buttoned up, I’m not walking around like Han.”
Now it’s your turn to raise an eyebrow. (Or not because let’s be honest… we knew he had a little crush on him, they even supposedly had a kiss scene 💀)
When he realizes your joking, and simply poking fun at his tight pants, he rolls his eyes at you, grinning and blushing slightly before his eyes find yours.
“At least I’m a high charging looking one.” He definitely becomes so smug about it once he realizes you meant it as a compliment.
Will one-hundred percent ask you from that point on as a joke, whenever he isn’t dressed in his Jedi robes if his outfit looks slutty enough.
And if you say no, he changes. 😂
Han:
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“At least I don’t look cheap.”
He immediately answers back before continuing his task.
Not before giving you this side-eye glance like “you already knew this.” 💀
Safe to say, even if you meant it in a positive, funny way, you’re not the first to have called him that but he loves it regardless.
I mean, you really tried to call this alleged womanizer a slut and expected him to bulge?? Think again 😭
Will start saying smart ass shit like, “What’s you fee?” While grinning like an ass if you wear something that shows a bit more skin then usual.
Honestly though, he loves the fact you can joke about it because the actuality of it all is that he IS a slut 😂
Kylo:
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He can see and tell your joking but, really? 😒
Unlike his father and grandfather, he immediately fixes you with a narrowed eye glance.
Him… a slut, of all things. (“Maybe in bed” he can’t help but to think, but right now??)
“I don’t talk about you whenever you wear sudden things you like to train in with.”
Nine times out of ten, because he’s the only one you train with when he deems your outfit too much.
Definitely switches it around and starts calling you that, but of course he means it in a joking manner like you do.
Like his dad though, he does it in such a discrete, yet degrading manner as well 💀
If he’s wearing the full suit, helmet and all, he’ll call you over (immediately getting the attention of everyone around because “Uh-oh, what’d she do?”)
And will just lean down close to your ear and say something like, “Change now, or I’ll make you sit on my lap at the next briefing and let everyone see…”
If you do call him a slut again, he can only approach you with a stone-faced resolve, before grabbing you and leading you into his room where you two won’t be seen for a while.
If you saw a slut by him simply standing their shirtless, he was going to make you see a slut ten times more in him. 🥵
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kittyhui · 4 months
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ur sk drabble wow 😵‍💫😵‍💫 if it’s okay could i please req a hard dom!kwan drabble or fic where ur at a restaurant with him and get needy when he innocently puts his hand on ur thigh under the table?
when he realises ur wet and needy from being teased in public he takes u home and fills u up in front of a big open window. making sure everyone can see and hear u moaning and being stuffed with his cum. he’s so possessive he loves keeping u stuffed with his cum and watching it leak out slowly, pushing it back in when it does….
god 😵‍💫😵‍💫 just thinking about that makes me dizzy. seungkwan would be such a mean dom idc what people say.
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meandom!seungkwan x fem!reader
(a/n seungkwan has an big ass oppa kink LOL)
“as i was saying before Kwon Soonyoung rudely interrupted, he just didnt have the……..” you couldn’t even hear the rest what your boyfriend had to say; you were too distracted. his big hand had found his way onto your thigh as he got wrapped up in the conversation he was currently having with his members. the touch was 100% innocent on his side: just supposed to be a confirmation that he remembered you were there, but it wasn’t to you.
you’d been needing him since you saw him getting ready for the dinner. seungkwan in a suit was definitely a sight that made you hot and bothered, you just couldn’t look away. you wanted to ask him to just stay home and fuck you but you knew its been a while since his members hung out and you didnt want to ruin that. but his hand on you right now… it was making this hard. it was moving up and down your thigh, not even getting close to your clothed heat but you felt yourself getting wetter by the minute. you rest your head on his shoulder trying to get a hold of your emotions. he looks down at you with a look asking ‘are you okay?’, patting your thigh again causing you to press them together.
“can we go home?” you whisper into his ear with desperation. he raises an eyebrow at you.
“just one more hour. okay, baby?” he rubs your thigh in comfort, a whine bubbling in your throat. “rest on my shoulder if you’re tired.”
you can’t hold it in anymore, letting out a quiet whine that only the two of you could hear, “oppa, please. wanna go home.” you can feel his hand tightening around your thigh and his eyes darkening at the name you had called him. months into your relationship you found out about seungkwan’s not so subtle oppa kink and of course, you used that against him at any chance. but tonight, it was unintentional; you just needed him so badly….
you gasp at his sudden action, standing up abruptly announcing that the two of you had to go home, putting cash on the table for your part of the bill and dragging you out of the restaurant and into his car.
it’s quiet the rest of the way back to your shared apartment; your lover’s jaw clenched and his knuckles turning white from gripping the steering wheel too hard. the moment you close the door to your apartment, he’s on you.
“can’t even last a three hour dinner? you’re that much of needy baby?” you moan at his words, wrapping a leg around his hip and letting him bring you to the bedroom.
“do you even deserve to be fucked like a good girl? you haven’t been very good today?” he scoffs as you whine for him, bringing you over to the huge window at the edge of your bedroom, “gonna fuck you right here” he mutter into your ear, “gonna let everyone know how fucking slutty you are, baby.” he kisses you hard, making you back up into the glass, his hand stabilizing you movements.
“oppa, please.. need you- need your cock.” you moan into his mouth, his hand digging into your hip. not wanting to waste anymore time, he flips the skirt you’re wearing up and practically tears your panties off, inducing a choked moan from you. his own pants and boxers are soon off aswell as he slowly plays with your sopping cunt, cries coming from your whiny mouth.
“wan’ you to turn around for me, baby. want you to see the people walk by and see you. see your slutty body. that’s what you need right? need a audience? i bet you do.” he groans into your neck, turning you to face the window. you can see the street and sidewalk underneath you; wondering if anyone could see your tear streaked face from all the way down there. you could barely even think before your oppa’s cock was inside you.
“fuck- kwannie-“ you try to find purchase on the glass to no avail, seungkwan pushing you up harder against it as he pulls out and pushes in deeper
“not my name, baby” he groans, kissing your nape, sucking on the skin before thrusting in again. “so. fucking. good. your desperate little hole was made for me, huh?”
“fuck- yes, yes, oppa! it was made for you! only for you!” you clench around him, sobs falling from your mouth at the intensity. you thought about being seen by somebody; what they would think; what they would do. the thoughts of being watched turn you on even more, clenching around kwan even more, feeling your release coming just moments away. “gonna… cum”
“not yet baby.” he moans at your tightness, feeling himself about the burst aswell, “gonna cum in you, okay? gonna fill you up, nice and good. does that sound good, baby?” you moan incoherently at him telling him you were out of it. kwan thrust into you hard and deep with a high moan, releasing his load into you. “cum for me, baby” he sighs, feeling your on command release on his cock moments later.
“kwannie..” you mutter, legs buckling at the intensity. he pulls out of you and lifts you onto your shared bed, kissing you softly.
“so good for me, my love.” he looks at your ruined cunt again, humming in pride, before stuffing you full of him again. you whine at the overstimulation, hand pawing at his chest and shoulders. “sorry, baby. didnt want it to go to waste. wan’ you to be nice and full.” he smiles at you, and you know in that moment, that you’re his. only his.
—————
that was lowkey bad imo, but i hope you like it! tysm for the love hehe <3
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