Nsfw:

shhh let my husband sleep he's tired <3

You are the young, newly-widowed spouse of the foolish and disliked noble who started this devastating war at the border; when a mix of common folk and soldiers drag you from your bed you are already resigned to whatever fate they have chosen for you. You are dragged out in your sheer silk nightwear and forced to your knees in the mud of the main road. Glancing up you see the figures opposite, the enemy, the great hulking orcs your husband angered. Above you, you hear frantic talking - frantic, useless. None of you speak their tongue.

Finally, in desperation, you crawl forward and bow your head, pulling your hair aside to bare your neck. Surely that cannot be misunderstood. You are willing to give your life for peace. The townspeople are hardly going to let you live either way.

(You are the chieftain of an orc clan reluctantly drawn into this skirmish as a matter of honour, and when the humans drag out a small, helpless one of their own and offer it you hesitate. It is dressed in silk and wears jewels at its neck and throat, which means it is important. As grotesque as the practice is to you, your sense of pride, you know they often exchange hostages between themselves. You glance at your second, who visibly rolls her eyes but nods. Any excuse to go home.)

The orcs do not kill you there and then, but take you; you cannot tell yet if that is a mercy or a misfortune. You are bound at the wrists and ankles and flung over an orc soldier's shoulder like a sack of grain, and passed between many of them during the journey. In their own language they joke and laugh as they pass you over, sometimes pinching at the bare skin of your thigh where your clothes have hitched up.

At their camp you are deposited in the tent of the chieftain. You have heard rumours of what they do with captives, and between being ravaged until broken or eaten alive you do not know what to hope for. You merely lie there, limp and trembling slightly, until you hear the sound of someone entering. The hulking orc chieftain looks at you, tusked face unreadable, then drags you upright by a fistful of your hair to briefly press a flask to your lips. When you have gulped nearly all the water he drops you, grunts and leaves. He does not return to the tent the entire night. You know this, because the low buzzing terror in the back of your mind doesn't let you sleep.

(You hardly know what to do with the little thing. Your comrades say it is easy to carry but odd, it is full grown by the look of it but doesn't struggle at all or even try to bargain in its babbling little language. Maybe it is unwell. You order it placed in your tent and give it water yourself, but it shows no more signs of life, dull-eyed and staring at nothing. You decide to let it sleep and go back outside to drink until you pass out under the stars and the warm summer skies.)

On the second night you are taken to a river before camp, and following the example of those around you, you wash yourself; as you return to the riverbank you find your clothes gone. The orcs watch you, even the smallest of them half-again your size. You swallow your fear and walk naked back to the chieftain's tent. Once there you lower yourself to your hands and knees on the bedroll, bare skin still damp from the water. You cannot stop him from taking you, but perhaps it will hurt less or be over faster if you comply.

The orcs chieftain makes a brief, almost hissing sound at the sight of you, but does not leave this time. Their hand brushes across your back and you can feel their claws retracting. They touch and inspect you like a prize hound and you keep your eyes to the ground, tears of shame welling up. Then he presses two large, blunt fingers inside you, and you brace yourself. He fingerfucks you lazily for a minute or so before suddenly growling something you don't understand and turning you on your back, so you scramble to reposition yourself and hold your legs wide. He cradles your face in both his hands as he slowly sinks his swollen cock into you, larger than you think you could ever take and stretching you painfully yet unable to look away from his face. Your husband used to force you to look at him like this only when he wanted to watch you cry, so you brace yourself for the firm hold to turn into hard slaps that leave your ears ringing.

(The little thing washes with the others and you are approaching the tent with an armful of fabric in what you hope is close to their size when you are hit with the unexpected sight of them uncovered in your tent, positioned as any orc begging to be bred would be. You have to smother a gasp and restrain yourself; it has been too long, and little thing's fragile shape and delicate features are somehow all the more appealing for their strangeness. But you were raised well, taught that all parties must agree before partners bed each other; you don't know their tongue to ask them. You seek permission from their body language instead, first touching their back, the curve of their ass and leg, then with tentative fingers in their soft tight little hole. They do not flinch or try to flee, and they wetten for your fingers. Surely you can continue? Forgetting yourself you ask out loud.)

You wait to be hit. It doesn't happen. You wait to used rough and hurt inside; it doesn't happen either.

The looming figure of the great orc warrior above you moves with an almost incongruous care, pressing into you slowly and then simply resting there until your body becomes accustomed enough to his huge cock that he can start to move without tearing you. It's almost as if his gaze on your face is tracking the small hitched breaths or softening of your expression to know when he can begin to carefully thrust. Yet that makes no sense to you. Men have never used you so gentle, why would a savage orc do so?

He is big enough it does hurt some little but that sensation is soon overwhelmed by another, unfamiliar and disorienting; a low heat building your abdomen, a curl of pleasure that makes you whimper. Another growl comes in response, so you try to quieten, but his expression - it is so hard to read, so different, but he does not look angry.

(You are confused and troubled, but the tight heat of the little thing is so perfect around your cock. They are acting like a new prospective mate, taking your body like a mate would, but when you watch their face to try and find the answers you'd normally seek out loud there is something missing. You fuck them very gently, as such delicate pretty things should be treated, and forget yourself enough to apologise out loud when they whimper. You promise them in words they don't know that you want to make them feel good, you will stop if they struggle even once, that they are safe with you.)

The orc chief finishes with a single deep thrust and you can feel your abdomen swell with how filled you are, a little of their cum already beginning to leak down your thighs. He pulls away and you instinctively curl in on yourself, protective - the sound he makes in response is urgent but more distressed than angry. He paws at you to uncurl, look at him again; as you tilt your face up and force your body to relax he huffs and lowers his great head between your legs. Before you can even process it his rough tongue is on you, and you can feel the smooth dangerous weight of his tusks against your inner thighs. The rush of banked pleasure is equally unexpected, as he coaxes a climax from you that leaves you shaking. Afterward you are gathered up like a doll in his arms, and for the first time in three days actually believe you may be safe. Very, very, tentatively, you reach for his face and pause halfway in question.

(The little thing flinches only afterwards, but it does flinch and you immediately fight back a rush of guilt and worry. Rank be damned, the clan will not stand for taking any person unwilling, even a human one. You try to comfort them with small touches, check their face for signs of what's wrong. They are unreadable. You check between their legs and can tell they did not quite find pleasure yet, so quickly duck your head to correct it. Perhaps that is what was wrong, because when their body responds they do not flinch away from being held close. They even reach for your face, and after you nod encouragingly they trace their tiny fingers over the ridges of your skin and kiss nervously at the smooth curve of your tusk. You thrill, but say nothing; maybe they have no idea what an intimate gesture that is. You just happily nestle close.)

You were the young, newly-widowed spouse of the foolish and disliked noble who started this devastating war at the border; now, it seems, you are claimed by the warrior chief who bested him and the bedmate of a mighty orc who is gentler with you than said husband ever was and - slightly endearingly - buries his face in the crook of your neck with a low rumbling sound not unlike a purr when sleepy and post-coital.

.

If ever a man was deserving of a blow job it’s Joel Miller

A/N: joel x f!reader. blow job duh.

He comes home at odd hours and sometimes he doesn’t come home at all. It’s not even your place–it’s his. His shitty room with four walls and a peach couch sprouting stuffing. It’s not a Joel couch. He probably would have had a La-Z-Boy. 

You wait. You wait and listen to the radio. Get really well acquainted with the 80’s catalogue. You're his ears when he’s gone. It really isn’t a job, but it’s the small things you can do for him.

***

“Move over,” he mutters in a low voice. It’s the middle of the night, his hands are cold as he pushes you to the edge of the mattress. You’re an inch from rolling off before his strong arms wrap around your waist and haul you back to his chest. 

“How was today?”

“Shitty.”

“Did you eat?”

He mumbles something noncommital into your hair and squeezes you, sealing you to his front to leach your warmth.

You trace his scars that drag across his forearm. You prod the dry skin, sunspots and freckles. His mouth is nearly latched to the nape of your neck, his breath puffing evenly. He’s exhausted, which isn’t a surprise. He works day in and day out in addition to all the illegal shit he’s running. 

He’s always running. 

***

In the morning, you push him onto his back. The sun filters through his windows, spouting through moth-eaten curtains. There are dust motes in the air. The smell of dirt and Joel, which is something like sawdust and gunpowder. Wood finish. The interior of an old car. He grunts when you slide between his legs, docile because he's still threaded with grogginess. He slept in his clothes, and you take care as you gingerly remove them. 

He does peek one eye at you to make sure you aren’t some creep who’s slipped into his room to take advantage.

"It's me," you grin, and he blinks before shutting his eyes again. Typical.

You like to study him like this. He’s ruddy and baked from the sun. He’s all scrapes and silver-dark hair and his middle is soft from age. He's unnaturally strong, but some parts of him just don't tighten anymore.

Your gaze flickers from his face to the sparse hairs at his chest and then to his groin. You touch his cock, skating your nails over the shaft. It twitches, hardens almost immediately. You lower your head and take him into your mouth.

Joel stiffens, jerks a little as his knees come up and his hand flies to your scalp. “What’re you–”

You release him for a moment. “Relax, baby. Let me do this for you.”

His eyes are still foggy and unfocused, his brow furrowed so deep it might crack his skin. He’s so serious all the fucking time and you’d wish he’d just unknot himself for once. Loose the strings that bind him so painfully to his past.

You settle onto your knees before you wrap your lips around his cock, swallowing him down until the head hits the back of your throat. You gag, drool bunching around your gums as you clench the inner walls of your mouth. 

He does not expect that because he arches.

“Fuck,” he growls. “Jesus–honey–”

You place one hand on his belly and the other at his balls. You tug them, massage their weight just as you draw back enough to dip your tongue into the slit at the tip of his cock. A rumble burns through his chest. The hand on your head tightens. 

You hollow your cheeks and utilize a deliberate suction. After fucking Joel for months, you understand the things he likes: roughness, a dash of pain, and the promise of filth. You ease off before you return with a vengeance. You gently scrape your teeth along the frenulum, soothing the graze with a lick. It’s a sloppy blow job for sure, but that’s what he needs. His brown eyes stay locked on your own, his pink tongue sweeps over his lower lip as his hips buck against your chin. A muscle in his jaw spasms and his heels are digging into the mattress. He looks incredibly young as if you're seeing a Joel invigorated with his old youth because you're sucking him off like a porn star.

“You’re fucked,” he groans, head tipping back as he shudders through another round of you playing with his balls while deep throating him. “You’re so so fucked, sweetheart.”

You watch his belly tense, the tendons in his arms and throat snap to attention as you escalate the pressure, gag a little louder, stroke him faster while he stares at you with incredulity. 

You? This? Where the fuck did you learn how to suck dick like that?

“Shit,” he hisses as you feel him swell, his cock is pulsing in your mouth and against your palm like a living thing. His fingernails are scratching beneath your hair. He’s breaking….

And then he does.

He goes all stiff and hot before you feel the warm rush of his spend salt your tongue and throat. You nearly choke on it before you pull away, hand subtly pressed to your lips. You try and leave the bed, but he's already sitting up on his knees. His cock red and hanging between his legs, all flushed and wet with your spit. 

“You’re dead, girl,” he husks as he beckons you toward him. “Get back on here and turn the fuck around.”

He’s kind of smiling.

i jus fainted

· · Just in: Kento Nanami isn’t tolerating his young hot neighbor party habits, here’s what he has to say · ·

･˳ . ⋆ Reporting Live from Kento Nanami and Next door neighbor!Fem!reader ･˳ . ⋆

୨⍣୧ ⁺⁎˚ ⋆━━ Warnings : smut, Nanami is a hard!dom, hair pulling, creampie, fucked through orgasm, pet names( stupid bunny, slut, etc.), degradation is big time here, bed breaking( not just the head board), breeding kink, Nanami talks about getting you pregnant, hardcore, reader is mind fucked, Nanami is pussy drunk, reader is dick drunk, fluids( cream, squirting, drool), if I’m missing anything let me know WC: 1,081

MDNI, 18+

ෆ ‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿ ෆ ̟ ̇ ┈•ﾟNote from salaciousdoll: Please do note this was just to poke and have fun, it’s not gonna be perfect so don’t expect it. Anyways, hope you all enjoy my 35 min writing and yes I know this troupe and idea been used a thousands times, act like it hasn’t 😭 Nanami ass may be ooc here, idk.

Nanami always kept his eyes out for the new neighbor who threw parties with mountains of people coming in and out. He was pretty tired of the parties you throw even if you never introduced yourself to any one of your neighbors. You were young and everyone in this neighborhood was either stepping into their 30s or older than that. Only reason he knew you were young was because of how often he’ll see you leave and come in with different boys and girls.

The parties you threw were rowdy and full on project x type beat except without trashing your house. Nanami would be sleep and all he would hear is screams, music, and even the sound of fucking near his window. It’s like you didn’t care about anything or anyone, not even the complaints or calls from the police the other neighbors sent.

So Nanami didn’t care about the way you were clawing at his chest with your long, pretty acrylics as he gripped your hair in a tight ponytail— pounding into your pussy from beneath you with no mercy. The squelching sounds weren't enough to make him stop, in fact, that’s the sole reason he kept going. He ignored your cries and scrambling to get away from him because of how good he stretched your little hole out.

“ you’re not lasting like I thought you would… I mean sluts last long, so why aren’t you?”, Nanami grunts into your ear, his hips thrusting up into your weeping pussy, angrily. He didn’t care about the bed hitting the wall as he fucked you like the whore you’re mother wouldn’t be proud of.

You coughed and tried to make eye contact with him, but his grip on your hair was too much for you to see his face under you. So you cried out your frustration through crystallized vision, “ M’not a slut. Please slow down, Mr. Nanami.” Your sweet little moans and whimpers were beautiful.

Nanami let out a loud growl like moan and wrapped one arm around your body while he now had some of your ponytail tangled and wrapped into his hands, he was making your hair messy just like he was making your pussy messy. You partially regretted coming on because of the dare, but in the same breath, you were happy because now you’re living two of your fantasies.

“ You are. You are. Nnnhh, you’re a little slut that’s been disturbing this neighborhood since you stepped foot in here. Shame on you, did your mother and father teach you anything or are you too dumb of a bunny to understand. Fuck!”, Nanami grunts out his words because of how tight your fluttering walls wrapped around his dick.

Nothing but cries and little chokes escaped out of your mouth. You couldn’t form basic words, how dumb can you be? Nanami balls were slapping on your puckered hole from how fast and rough he was going. You gave up on digging your nails into his chest because you were so fucked out and tired from the pounding he’s giving you. So now your bare chest was pressed onto his bare chest, sweat glands producing from both of you.

“ Please! Please! Please! M’gonna m’gonna— uhhnnn.”, your moans were suppressed by his smooth lips. You were screaming into his mouth as you squirted over his pelvis, his balls, and legs. Some of it was getting on his sheets and he didn’t care one bit. He was too angry at you to see how messy you’ve gotten his covers.

You tried to scramble off him because you were squirting too much and the pressure of it all was too much especially for your already beaten up pussy. It’s like Nanami has superhuman speed and stamina. He sped up even more faster as he fucked up into you, you and your pussy screamed and cried.

Nanami grunts were beginning to become broken, “ Sh-ittt, s’good, pussy is so good squirting like that. I guess all those boys coming in and out of your house taught you how to milk cock, perfectly.” Your eyes widened and then they rolled back into your head at the rolling of his hips hitting the inner thighs repeatedly.

As soon as he did one more snap of his hips, the bed frame broke underneath you two causing a loud noise to erupt from how hard it hit the floor. The poles attached to his bed fell in the opposite direction of you two. If someone were to walk in right now, they’ll see that it looks like a tornado hit his room with how broken the bed was. Yet that still didn’t stop him. He now had a great angle as he pounded your tired, wet cunt over and over with one knee propped up, so you were now fucking rapidly and properly. He felt your velvet walls sucking him in with your liquid coming out at the same time. You were perfect for his cock. Nanami’s cock was big, way too big for your pussy. He loved your pussy so much. He was too drunk on your pussy to understand that his bed broke.

“ My fucking slut, such an devilish little temptation you are, gonna breed this tight little pussy. Nghh! Hopefully that’ll get you to stop having these parties and fucking with those boy toys of yours…. Settle down and grow round and big with our child, how does that sound? Hmm.”, Nanami moaned as you were now creaming on his cock from how overstimulated you were.

Your brain was fogged and your words were slurred with drool hangin out your mouth as you answered him, well tried. Luckily he understood every word you said. “ Yesh—yess, I wan’ your babies. Ahnnn. Want to be full and bloated with your children, mmm mr. Nanami”

Nanami smirked in victory because now there were no more parties, boys, or loud music. Gotta love corrupting and breaking his pretty little neighbor.

ෆ ̟ ̇ ┈•ﾟ Tagging: @chosoist @simpingfor-wakasa @honeybleed and anyone else who wants to be tagged

ﾟ•┈© all right reserved to salaciousdoll, she does not give permission to steal, plagiarize, and translate.

i feel so burnt out and my sleep schedule's fuuuucked :(

kento's a real man.

a man who uses your purse with no shame, even if everyone stares at him.

a man who does not feel ashamed in doing 'feminine' activities, in his eyes, it's just an activity. since when is cooking or knitting shameful?

a man who doesn't have the need to control your every move. he doesn't always need to be in a position of power over you.

a man who flaunts your achievements, even if they're greater than his. in fact, he could never be prouder.

a man who understands the decision of the amount of children to have entirely is up to you.

a man who isn't scared to buy feminine products and in fact volunteers to buy them when you are in need.

a man who understands that housework is a shared activity and that being a housewife is a real job.

a man who understands the sacrifice of becoming a full-time mom and makes sure you know you're appreciated in every single moment.

note: beabadoobee reference, got an idea while listening to her song

Jealous!Ghost does something to me… sorry

He was everywhere, balls slapping heavily against the fat of your ass, your spine nestled into the wall as he fucked into you, cock splitting you open with the desirous intention to ruin you for anyone else.

“You gonna fucking talk to him again, hm?” He spat, licking a stripe of your neck as he held onto your hips, bruising fingers digging litters of marks against your pretty skin.

“N-No Simon,” you whined, hiccuping as he thrusted back into you, his voice menacingly low as he growled low in his chest. Your neck was stained with dark hickies, marks that Ghost needed everyone to see, especially the incapable Soldier who decided that sparring with you was appropriate.

“Fucking slut, ain’t you? My dicks not enough for ye’ or something? Gotta get it from everyone?”

His words shot through you as you choked out a moan, angry tip nudging your sweet spots with a fiery force, heat penetrating through you. His eyes were shot into slits, a possessive glint controlling every movement as he muttered into your neck.

“I see you around him again and I’ll kill ‘em, you hear me?”

You nodded against the wall, lower back aching at the constant pressure of being slammed against it during his fuelled assault against your squelching cunt.

Ghost didn’t say anything after he emptied inside you, guttural groan leaving his lips as he pulled out, dropping you to your feet and leaving in an aggravated hunch, your legs shaking as you tried to squeak out a ‘wait’.

the thing about when zionists ask you if "israel has a right to defend itself" is it's no different from someone asking "did you stop beating your wife yet" or the schoolyard bully asking "does your mom know you're gay". to answer yes OR no is to accept a false premise. asking if israel has the right to self defense is like asking if it has the right to time travel or the right to breed unicorns. in all three cases you're being asked about something that doesn't exist

if i break into your house and say it's mine now, and beat you up and lock you in a closet, do i have the right to "defend myself" against you fighting back? the answer is that nothing i do constitutes self-defense by definition. israel is the attacker, it is the invader, it is on the offensive, and anything it does to the palestinian people is part of that offensive. invaders always try to cry self-defense against the resistance to the invasion, but the only party in this situation whose actions can possibly be self-defense is palestine

✨🩷🌙SEND THIS TO OTHER BLOGGERS YOU THINK ARE WONDERFUL. KEEP THE GAME GOING ✨🩷🌙

Hi Pasi sweetie 😻‼️ How's your weekend?

Don't mind if i dooo ₍˄·͈༝·͈˄*₎◞ ̑̑

i am not kissing you. I AM EATING YOUR ENTIRE FACE DHSHKAKA YOU PRETTY PRETTY BABY

STOOOPPP SSTOOPP STRTTOTPPPPPP YOU'RE MAKIN ME SHY AN SHIII 😓😓😓😨😨 SSTAWWPPPWPW SSATWWWP