GRYFFINDOR BOYS

Don't know where I found this art, but I fucking love the parallels between Lucifer and Lilith, and, Alastor and Rosie

demon slayer hcs: giyuu meeting soulmate!reader

characters: giyuu x fem!kamado!reader, tanjiro x sister!reader, nezuko x sister!reader, sanemi (mentioned), shinobu (mentioned), urokodaki (mentioned)

warnings: blood, family death, fighting, reader is the oldest Kamado sibling

AN: soulmate au where the first words your soulmate says to you is tattooed somewhere on your body!! this is the longest soulmate hcs i’ve written lol

GIYUU

you decide to spend the night over at a friends house late one night

you begin the walk home the next day at around noon

and when you return home you find your entire family slaughtered, laying in pools of their own blood

and your little brother Tanjiro and little sister Nezuko are missing

in tears, wondering what the hell happened and where your siblings are, you fail to notice the men and women approaching your home

when they get to you they explain who they are

they are the kakushi for the demon slayer corps

they check you for injuries and explain what had happened

a demon attacked your family

and your missing brother and sister are most likely dead

in a fit of rage the need for vengeance fills you

and you ask how you can become a slayer

the kakushi bring you to the butterfly mansion where you meet the head of the demon slayer corps

and filled with sympathy for you but sensing your potential, he assigns a hashira to be your mentor

and not just any hashira

The Wind Hashira

Sanemi Shinazugawa

the hot headed hashira with the deepest hatred for demons, the harshest training, and an undeniable disliking towards the water hashira, whom you haven’t met

with just a month of training, you’re headed to the Final Selection

unsurprisingly, due to your training with sanemi, you pass with flying colors

over the course of the next year, you practically fly up the ranks

being sent on several missions, training with sanemi, and of course, still grieving the loss of your siblings, Tanjiro and Nezuko

you become friends with most of the hashira due to your status of being the wind hashira’s tsuguko

but still not meeting the infamous water hashira that your teacher seems to hate

it isn’t until you receive a letter from the previous water hashira, Sakonji Urokodaki

that everything changes

he has heard of your fast progress and skill

and when hearing your last name, he realized that his newest student is your family

your little brother is alive

he passed the final selection

and he’s currently on a mission

a mission that several slayers have died on

a mission that required two hashira due to the amount of casualties

after reading the letter you practically fly out of the wind hashira’s estate

abandoning your daily training

barely hearing Sanemi’s outraged and confused yelling at your departure

running as fast as possible toward the forest that Tanjiro is supposed to be stationed in

you arrive

quickly taking off the head of a demon with the flick of your wrist as you pass by

faintly seeing the outline of a man with a mismatched haori in the corner of your eye

but continuing forward

toward your brother

faster

faster..

even faster…

you arrive

arrive just in time to block the killing blow heading towards your brother..

standing in front of Tanjiro in a defensive position with your back to him

your eyes lock onto the demon that was attacking your brother

Lower Rank 5

one of the twelve kizuki

you are so focused that you can barely hear Tanjiro whisper your name in shock

surely he thought you were dead

turning your head to softly smile at him over your shoulder you say,

“it’s alright, tanji. i’m here now.”

then, you feel a drop land on your face

a drop of blood

you look up to find your baby sister

covered in blood and tangled in the demons webs

a demon herself

in shock you stammer her name

this distraction gives lower rank 5 the opportunity to attack

he launches an attack toward you

you don’t have the time to block it

but you don’t have to

the man you caught a glimpse of earlier with the checkered haori leaps in front of you, blocking the strike

with him taking on the demon, you take the chance to leap into the air and cut the webs holding your sister

catching her as she falls, you can’t tear your eyes from her demonic form

Urokodaki did NOT mention this in his letter to you…

looking up at the sound of a head hitting the floor you realize that the man had delivered the killing blow to the attacking demon

as he turns to walk towards you and your sister, sword at the ready, nezuko stands in front of you defensively

“NO! DONT! SHE’S MY BABY SISTER” you plead, practically in tears

his eyes widen in shock

shock from the revealed information perhaps?

possibly from pity…?

or… is that… realization?

and then, in a split second he moves behind you

and the loud ‘clang’ of two swords colliding reach your ears

he had blocked the sword of another hashira

Shinobu, the insect hashira had attempted to take the life of your little sister

realizing that he was defending you, you took the chance

grabbing your brother and sister by the hand you run

and you keep running until you hear a crow telling you to report to the butterfly mansion with your brother and sister in tow

as you begin the journey to the butterfly mansion, tanjiro informs you of the events he experienced over the last year

in turn, you tell him of your experiences

arriving at the mansion, you are greeted with the sight of the hashira

normally, you would greet the people you call friends but today they are against you

when choosing between your family or your friends

you would choose your family, everytime

glancing between the highly ranked slayers, you see the quiet man in the mismatched haori

and since the only hashira that you haven’t met is the water hashira

you can safely assume that it’s him

when the meeting starts the master announces that both Urokodaki and Giyuu Tomioka have both put their lives on the line to vouch for Nezuko

Giyuu…

that’s his name.

the appreciation and admiration that surges through you at hearing the way he is supporting your sister is unreal

but your admiration is stopped in its tracks by the arrival of your mentor

you physically wince at Sanemi’s hard gaze, drawing an almost unnoticeable puzzled look from Giyuu

after the meeting ends and after a rather loud scolding from Sanemi

you turn to Giyuu and express how thankful you are for his help, and for his support for your sister

and he speaks to you for the first time,

“what kind of person would I be if i didn’t help my soulmate when she needed it.”

at his words, your heart stops

time freezes

your own wide eyes staring up into his calm ocean blue eyes in shock

you are physically frozen in shock

feeling the eyes of the other hashira staring at him he grabs you by the shoulder and leads you away from the prying gaze of the slayers

and then steps away, turning his back to you and pulling his hair over his shoulder exposing the back of his neck to you

exposing his soulmate tattoo to you

“NO! DONT! SHE’S MY BABY SISTER”

printed in your very own handwriting on his pale skin

you somewhat recover from your shock, softly tapping his shoulder to have him face you

and then copying his actions, you turn your back to him exposing the words printed onto your own neck

“what kind of person would I be if i didn’t help my soulmate when she needed it.”

sanemi was NOT happy to hear that his tsuguko is giyuu’s soulmate

Just a Quick Break

Fandom: Arcane

Warnings: smut

The Piltover Academy, though built to impress and show the grandeur of the city, was in its depths a labyrinthine place, full of corridors leading supposedly nowhere of importance, and rooms once used for storage and promptly forgotten.

It retained its charm though, especially during the busy days when all Viktor wanted was a few quiet moments to gather his thoughts. Even in the laboratory wing, swarming with academics and their projects, a few rooms had been conveniently forgotten over the decades.

Viktor often found reprieve in one of them. 

It was the size of a closet and all it could store was a dusty floor-to-ceiling bookshelf against one wall and an ancient desk on the other, with a tall, narrow window spilling light in between. The day was bright enough to paint the dust gliding lazily through the air gold. 

Viktor quieted his cough, but had no intention of leaving. When he leaned on the edge of the desk, the bottom shelf in front of him was the perfect height to rest his leg on and bring some relief to the pain he'd been walking with throughout the day. 

Most of the books tightly packed there were ancient enough that the ink had become unreadable, and many others were written in languages Viktor couldn't even name. Still, Viktor enjoyed the quiet hours spent learning something new and completely outside his usual field and the sheer randomness of it.

The door creaked open. Viktor froze.

"Oh, dear," you smiled and slipped inside the room. "And here I was, promising Heimedinger his favorite assistant was busy rechecking the calculations."

Viktor closed the book in his hands. "They won't be any different whether I do that three times or three hundred. The fault must lay in the quality of the materials used, but I don't have access to that."

"He never listens, huh?" 

You leaned on the desk next to him, taking the book he held. The room was tiny enough that it put you shoulder to shoulder with Viktor. 

"Not when it comes to his own projects," he shrugged. He could feel the warmth seeping through your clothes. 

Viktor tore his eyes away from you.

"So you decide to busy yourself reading an outdated agriculture manual?"

"It's better than going through the same numbers again and hoping for a different result." He waved his hand. “The word insanity comes to mind for some reason.”

The sound of your laugh sent the butterflies in his stomach flying. 

You'd known each other so long he must've heard it a thousand times by now, but Viktor doubted he'd ever get used to it. He still had to remind himself that somehow you ended up together.

"You better be careful," he said. "Someone might hear us and ruin our little break."

"You're the one slacking off!"

"As if you weren't supposed to practice before your presentation tomorrow."

You gasped dramatically. "How dare you say I can't do that half an hour before the meeting, as I always do. Someone's getting rude..."

Shivers ran down Viktor's arms when he noticed the smile playing on your lips. He'd learned everything about it throughout the years.

Viktor glanced quickly at the door that was thankfully still closed when you squeezed yourself between him and the bookshelf. The light from the window erased the shadows from your face when you leaned in to look Viktor in the eyes. Your hands traveled up and down his thighs, sending goosebumps over his skin. 

Viktor cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Love, I don't think this is a good place for—"

You hushed him with a peck on his lips. "Of course it is. You just need to stay quiet."

Viktor yelped when you caught him under his knees and pushed him further onto the desk. His shoulders hit the wall and his cane rattled slightly, but stayed in the corner by the window. He didn't need it for once, though, not with his aching knee being in a surprisingly comfortable position—

Viktor's thoughts scattered when you slipped between his legs, and he suddenly found you very, very close. His sweaty palms were braced behind his back, thankfully beyond your reach.

Your eyes dipped to the blush spotting his cheeks. Viktor could've sworn the rapid beating of his heart could be heard in half the Academy. 

"What a curious reaction," you whispered, placing a feather-soft kiss over his cheekbone. "I wonder what you might be thinking about, dear."

There were very few things on Viktor's mind when your hand squeezed his thigh and moved slowly upward, as if drawn precisely to the spot his pants felt the most uncomfortable.

With his mouth completely dry, even swallowing proved a difficult task. Viktor eyed the door again, trying his best not to moan when your hand brushed over his bulge. It wouldn't be the first time the two of you decided to have a little fun in the middle of the day, but certainly the riskiest so far when it came to the choice of a spot. 

Viktor liked it.

The fear of being caught was surprisingly thrilling. Viktor caught himself shivering as you undid the buttons of his pants one by one and had to cover his own mouth when you freed his length. 

"Someone's getting impatient," you whispered in his ear, pumping him lazily with your fist. He was almost hard.

Viktor groaned when you kissed down the tense column of his neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps lingering in every place you touched. His cock twitched when he felt you smile against his pulse. His heart threatened to burst from his chest, every beat faster than the last.

Viktor took a deep breath, trying to regain a semblance of control.

Somewhere beyond the wall, in the spacious but old laboratory, a door opened and two voices broke the silence. 

Viktor tensed, listening to the people moving some equipment, unaware of being so close, and yet so far away from the rather intriguing scene. They talked about things Viktor couldn't hear, their words mixing together. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the second pair of doors, the ones half hidden at the far wall. All it took was for one of the students to notice them and open out of curiosity, just like Viktor did when he first noticed the tiny storage room all those weeks ago…

You pinned his hips down with your free hand, holding him firmly in place when he shivered. Your grip on his cock tightened, making Viktor see the stars. A droplet of precum slid down his length and over your hand.

"Careful," you whispered. "We don't want them to hear, after all."

Viktor was in no shape to argue, especially when you nipped at his earlobe, moving your hand further down. He felt his soul leaving his body when you slipped your hand inside his tucked down pants, massaging his balls in precisely the spot you knew worked on him like magic.

A moan slipped from his lips before Viktor caught himself, fretfully glancing at the doors that stayed mercifully closed. He was vaguely aware of people still walking around the other room, but couldn't focus on what they were doing - not when his pulse was drumming in his veins and ears, bringing him closer to the edge with each movement of your hand. His breathing was labored, and the sweat rolled down the back of Viktor's neck. Nothing had ever felt so good as the moment you took your lips away from his neck and closed them around his tip.

Your mouth was delightfully warm and wet. Viktor felt your tongue explore the underside of his cock, licking down the precum that leaked before. Your hand moved to the base of his cock, pumping him in tune with your mouth. 

Viktor's legs twitched when he came, and for the moment even the pain of his knee was forgotten. He had no idea if he made any noises when you kept on working him until he was spent and exhausted. His breathing hitched when he saw you lick your lips with a devilish smile and enough satisfaction to put more blush on his face. Viktor was happy he was already sitting.

"Enjoy your break, love. Remember about Heimedinger's project," you cooed before straightening up and squeezing out from between Viktor's completely limp legs and the bookshelf. There was only silence coming from the other room by then, so you creaked the door open and quietly left before anyone from your team missed you. 

Viktor closed his eyes, but it did little to calm him. 

With a groan, he moved off the desk, trying his best to put himself together with shaking hands. He had no idea how he would look people in the eye once he left his little hiding spot. 

Still, he couldn't stop the half smile working its way onto his own lips. He didn’t think of himself as prioritizing fairness in most areas of his life, and yet he couldn't stop wondering how he would repay your favor. 

I saw requests were open, and idk if this would be something up your alley, by I would like to see your writing for Alastor with a mommy kink!

a/n — Up my alley? UP MY ALLEY? BABES THIS IS THE WHOLE DOWNTOWN STREET.

I quite literally giggled and kicked my feet when I saw this because… yes?

Anyways though, I was so tired last night when I wrote this so I apologize if it’s shorter than you hoped.

“Ah— careful, my dear,” Alastor winced as you slid onto his cock. His hands were tied to the bed post, and the only thing giving him any illusion of control was his faltering grin.

It was incredibly rewarding to see him like this, open and defenseless against you. It was putting him on edge, you could tell easily from the way his shoulders tightened and his smile wrinkled down, ever so slightly. 

“Relax,” you caressed his face with your thumb, “Mommy’s gonna take good care of you.”

You felt his dick twitch inside you, “Nngh, d—dearest, I—“

He’s cute off by an embarrassingly loud whine when you start rolling your hips.

He looks absolutely horrified at himself for the lack of power in the situation, but he doesn’t have time to think about it for too long before your cunt clenches down on his dick. 

“Who knew the Radio Demon would sound so pretty in bed?” you tease as you speed up.

Alastor curses himself for the deep static-y moan that comes out. He hated feeling so desperate but he sure as hell loved your attention. 

“You—ugh—“ He couldn’t focus with all the stimulation, “—this is perverted.” He stated it as if he wasn’t constantly letting out breathy moans.

“I know you love having mommy dote on you like this , Alastor,” you coo down at him and stroke his hair.

Alastors eyes widened at that comment, before he let out a needy whine.

“You want to be taken care of, pretty baby?” You hump his dick rougher, he nods vigorously. “Want me to praise you and tell you how good of a boy you are?”

He threw his head back into the pillow and kicked his feet out, struggling against the restraint around his wrists.

“Mommy, m—mommy, yes I want—“ his moans and whines are more apparent now as if he stopped trying to hide them. 

“You want what, sweetheart?”

“I want—“ he tried again, struggling to collect his thoughts while you milked his sensitive cock. Sex wasn’t something he engaged in often so the sensations got to his head fast.

“Use your words, darling,” you bite your lip while you ride him.

“—I want you, mommy, I need you,” he finished, feeling as if he hadn’t articulated what he’d been trying too. 

“Good boy, Alastor, telling me what you want.” You praise, running your hands over his chest.

He moaned pathetically. There was something so madly appealing to him about you calling yourself his ‘mommy.’ 

Some part of Alastor, deep inside of him, yearned to be praised and cared for. It had been almost an eternity since anyone had done so.

He whined your title in useless slurs, calling out for more. More of what? He didn’t know. He just craved your attention, your touch, your affection, like a starved man.

Your hands roamed his body, along with your lips, while you pussy drank up his cock. His whimpers were getting more frequent and staticky with every hip thrust and bite.

You sensed his climax building from the way he squirmed underneath the restraints of the wrist binds and bucked his dick up into you subconsciously. 

In truth, you could feel your own orgasm approaching as well, but you wanted to draw out this for as long as possible. After all, it’s not every day you have the Radio Demon whining for your approval.

“Mommy, ‘m almost there, ‘m so close,” He moaned, still squirming and biting his lip to hold back his release.

His eyes searched yours for the approval to cum, but it wasn’t there.

Instead, finding a vague sympathy as you continued grinding down on his dick, “I know, sweetheart, I know. You’re just going to have to wait, though.”

He whined miserably and kicked his feet. He didn’t like this answer, but for whatever reason he didn’t want to disappoint you.

“Your going to have to wait til after I cum baby,” You explain, breathlessness creeping into your voice, “Until then you’ll just have to be my good boy. How’s that sound?”

He nodded his head weakly, wincing at all of the attention on his cock as he tried to hold back.

You speed up, going fast enough for your orgasm to approach but not fast enough for it to be over to soon.

“Being so good for mommy, Al,” you coo, “Such good control, making mommy feel so good.”

The sides of his mouth look like they ache after smiling through all of this, but he whines regardless. 

His eyes are half lidded and needy, his hair stuck to his sweaty forehead while the ties around his wrists dug into his skin.

When you finally let go, you throw your head back and moan, still humping his cock but humming softly, satisfied with your orgasm and equally proud of Alastors restraint.

“Please,” Alastor whimpers, trying his hardest to lean up into your touch before being stopped by the ropes, “Please, mommy, now.”

“My pretty baby, of course you can—“ you didn’t even finish your sentence before being cut off by he’s loud desperate moan.

He came almost immediately after getting your approval and then fell back into the mattress, whispering quiet phrases of ‘Thank you, mommy,’

You pulled yourself off of him and laid down next to him on the bed. After untying the ropes around his wrists you take him in your arms and stroke his hair.

“You did so good for me, sweetheart. ‘m so proud of you,” you spoke softly in his ears.

Alastor didn’t say anything, only letting out a small hum of contentment and burying his face in your neck. 

You take one of his hands in yours and  observe the light bruise the restraints left of his  wrist. You rub your thumb against the injury and he winces. For a moment, you’re worried they were tied to tight until you catch a glimpse of his face. 

His usually shit-eating grin was replaced by what looked like a smile of genuine satisfaction.

You quietly applauded yourself for accomplishing something you once thought to be impossible, before you rose slightly on the bed.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, Al,” you say. You try to move but his arms clings onto your neck and hold on for life. He whines slightly.

“Alright,” you give in and sit back down, “maybe we can’t wait a little longer.”

a/n — this guys misses his mommy so much it’s not even funny oh my god. He’s way more pathetic than meets the eye guys, trust.

I feel like he would get super needy and clingy after this too like. He would constantly be needing all of attention at all times. He would just be competing with everyone for your attention it’d be wild.

It would make for some absolute fire songs though.

Stiff

Pairing: Old!Joel x Reader

Summary: At fifty-nine, Joel isn’t sure his dick can keep up with every day it’s going to take to get you pregnant. He seeks help from Jackson’s local apothecary and gets more than bargained for when that little blue pill kicks in.

Or, your old man wants to knock you up. Viagra helps.

Warnings: 18+. Unprotected p-in-v (obviously 😵‍💫🤙🏼). Breeding kink. Age gap. Peepaw Joel. Blue Pill Joel. Post-apocalyptic-Viagra-dosage-gone-horribly-wrong-and-now-his-dick-won’t-deflate-for-a-day…but it’s OK!

Note: This is the crackfic counterpart/sequel to ‘Make It Stick’

Word count: 2.9k

Forty-five minutes.

Forty-five minutes until his fate was sealed for the night. His pulse would quicken. His head would start to swim, and any last sliver of rational thought would be lost to the ether or the cold, snowy air around him. Joel Miller had to hurry now, because that bite-sized blue pill he’d just taken was in his belly, and if his dick didn’t find its way in you, he was fucked. Or at least huge and swollen and leaking out beads of hot desire the size of golf balls.

Well, maybe that was just his cock.

Joel looked down, scanning his pants.

Yeah…definitely just cock. He walked faster.

At home, he knew he’d find you curled up on the couch, nose in a book. What to Expect When You’re Expecting, if he had to guess. Then, sure enough, you’d lift your eyes and smile—‘Thank goodness you’re back, daddy’—and lift the hem of your night dress just slightly. Spread your legs and beckon him in. It was a nightly routine by now.

You wanted to be knocked up as fast as possible, after all

At almost sixty years old, Joel couldn’t believe he was actually saying these words aloud. But here he was—crawling overtop you on the couch, situating himself between your legs, and pulling his cock out, mumbling:

“Gonna let me put a baby in you tonight?”

You nodded sweetly—eagerly—every time.

Joel knew he could never resist that look. He was as good as finished the first second you let him sink inside your tight, weeping hole, and when he stretched it, he could already tell this was all he would ever want to do. Make you happy, fill you up, give you lots and lots of him.

It was why he’d stopped by the apothecary tonight. Why he’d hesitated only a moment before clearing his throat and asking for a pill like Viagra—Joel knew that the man behind the counter would flash him a wry, knowing grin.

Trouble keepin’ up with that sweet young thing’a yours?

David was a dick.

He wasn’t entirely wrong, either.

Ever since agreeing to start trying for a baby, Joel had become acutely aware of his own physical limitations in that department, and one of them was stamina. He could scarcely fuck twice in the same night without needing a long and rest-intensive breather. You were young and could roll over ready to go in five minutes.

It wasn’t fair to deprive you now on account of his age.

If you wanted his cum, you were getting it, no question.

Not just once, but multiple times. Again and again and—

“Again,” Joel grunted once he’d shot off his last spurt.

Fifty-eight minutes had passed since he’d taken that pill. It had fully kicked in, and his dick was still hard, even after finishing inside you with a sticky, white-hot flood.

You blinked dreamily up at him.

“You mean it, old man?” you teased him lightly.

I’ll show you what I mean, Joel thought to himself before flipping you over on the sofa. He had your hips tilted up and his cock driving back inside your freshly-fucked cunt in no time at all. He felt his spend coating your walls; it let him glide right in. Joel groaned and jerked himself back out, then fucked back in again and again and again.

“Again?”

Your word was exhaled in a laugh.

You stood in front of the bathroom sink, trying to tidy up the insides of your legs and push some more of Joel’s load back in, when you felt a presence at your back.

Stabbing your ass.

You started to turn then, puzzled.

“Bend over,” Joel commanded before you could.

You did as you were told because, frankly, you loved getting fucked wherever your old man wanted it—even if he had broken the sink one time he’d pounded you here.

But there was palpable confusion, too. How in the hell had Joel Miller, certified silver fox and owner of a dick old enough to remember Woodstock and the moon landing, managed to get his dick hard in the five minutes since he’d had you face-down, ass-up on the couch?

Or had his dick gotten soft at all?

You wanted to question him about it, or else give a long, hard look at his uncharacteristically long, hard friend, when the next moment had you gripping the counter. Stretching between the legs as Joel pushed back in.

“There she is,” he murmured affectionately.

Really, you’d never been wetter. Or warmer. Or filled to the brim with more sticky-white spend than you could ever hope to hold inside, it felt like. You bent at the waist and let him have his fill. You closed your eyes and rested your head on your forearms while Joel’s hot, bulbous tip grazed your cervix with dizzying alacrity. A smile crept in.

Whatever this was, you wanted more of it.

His dick was still hard.

Four mind-numbing fucks and another forty-five minutes later, Joel’s cock hadn’t deflated the tiniest bit.

The thing had hammered you so thoroughly he’d nearly destroyed the sink again. You’d whimpered, and whined, and warned him quietly, ‘We just fixed the porcelain, baby,’ and right before he’d painted your walls with his seed, you’d cum for him practically shrieking. Shaking.

Letting him turn you around for a kiss, only to mumble against his mouth with a sleepy, cockdrunk sort of lilt:

“I think you gave me twins.”

Then he’d fucked you in the shower to make it triplets.

Now you were laying out on the bed, truly spent, eyes following him in the semi-darkness of your bedroom after you’d toweled off and collapsed among the pillows.

“What’s gotten into you tonight, Miller?” you breathed.

Joel made it over to the dresser, back turned to you. He rifled through a drawer looking for something extra tight.

“Just missed you is all,” he said, shrugging.

What he needed right now was fabric that was very thick to hide the boner he was sporting. Joel could tell from the way you spoke that you were too tired for round five, and he didn’t want you feeling like you had to go again.

He would be fine.

His dick might not deflate until dawn, but that was okay.

“Wish you missed me like this every day,” you giggled.

When Joel turned around, he was shocked to find you sprawled out on the bed—hands between your legs.

There was a shy smile on your face.

“Baby…” he trailed off, watching your fingers flit through that sticky mess where he’d left it. Where you glistened.

Where you slid your index and middle fingers up and down your slit and drew circles on your clit, eyes shining.

“What? I missed you too,” you said, tone all faux protest.

You had no idea what you did to him when you talked like that. Especially when he was drowning in a state like this.

Hard as a rock.

Throbbing.

Needy.

Scarcely even knowing what he was doing, Joel found himself over by the foot of the bed in a second. Watching your every move with a wild, wipe-open stare he still couldn’t believe you found appealing. He swallowed.

He not only looked perverted, but he felt it, too. It rarely ever left his mind, save for the four or five seconds he spent in ecstasy emptying the contents of his balls inside your cunt, that he was his age, and you were yours. That perhaps the rest of Jackson was right, and he was wrong: he had no business being around a girl like you, much less getting off inside you every night. Was this really what you wanted? A bewildering mixture of guilt, lust, and love all circulated through his skull at that moment, and the longer he spent looking at your fingers, ogling the way you teased them through his cum between your legs, the more he felt certain he was bad.

No one corrupted a thing this sweet and got to call themselves good, anyway, he thought to himself idly.

“I keep gettin’ that…feelin’,” you said under your breath.

Joel’s hand tightened in a fist, and it was then that he realized it was wrapped around his cock. Still watching.

“Yeah, baby? What feelin’?” he returned, almost as quiet.

Still stroking himself up and down, up and down, softly.

You had your legs spread open—knees splayed wider than they’d been before. And your eyes had a tender, placid sheen to them, like they just might cry if they didn’t get release of some kind soon. Then you slowed.

Your touch slipped from your clit to the opaque, sticky globs between your thighs, and that look got even softer.

More desperate.

“Can’t…explain it.” You shook your head, as if pained, and then you sank two fingers inside. Joel could hear the tiny schlick from where he stood, and it almost did him in.

You sucked in a breath and added, “It’s a special feelin’.”

Joel’s fist had already worked its way up to a ridiculous speed. Again, he sensed this might be the worst and most pathetic he’d ever looked, but by the glint in your eyes and the way you kept holding him there, he also knew you weren’t asking him to stop, either. You were needing something else—something he could provide.

Thanks to that one stupid pill.

Joel’s smile was strained as he gripped the edge of the bed, like he was trying to assuage you and him at once.

“Try me, baby. Tell me ‘bout that special feelin’.”

Your middle and ring fingers disappeared inside you.

You whined, “Ain’t fair to say it now. You’re tired, daddy.”

Like hell he was. Joel crawled over the footboard and made his way straight to you, where your body was limp.

His breaths were coming in so fast and his pulse was thrumming so hard that he almost couldn’t hear himself talking. But he ventured to speak as gently as he could.

“I’m wide awake, sweet pea. I’m all ears. Talk to me.”

And if his words didn’t communicate as much, surely the look in his eyes would’ve told you all the rest. Quietly, he slipped his torso between your legs, where you’d inserted a third finger and were moving your hips again. You were fingering yourself, breathing shallow and quick.

“It’s a feelin’ like I wanna be…stuffed…a-and full’a you.”

Joel’s whole body could’ve liquified on the spot. His brain, presently, had all the consistency of a plate of scrambled eggs if he’d had to guess. Feeling his cock swell even bigger and his hips sink lower to yours of their own accord, he had only to grit his teeth and nod his head. He felt the tip of him bump your fingers, and the sensation and the expectation nearly drove him insane.

He mumbled quietly, “Then move your hand.”

You did. You winced again. You looked as though you might be ashamed for wanting him to fill you with his spend, and Joel simply wouldn’t allow that any longer.

Without saying another word, he slid back in.

Your cum and his facilitated the slide, and you opened right up for him. You whimpered, while Joel grunted like an animal. He couldn’t help it; it all felt so fucking primal.

How you could ever feel the need to apologize for wanting more of this was more than he could take.

“Every inch of me,” Joel said, rutting deeper, “is yours.”

He withdrew to the tip, and he could feel strings of arousal linking him to you in a sickeningly sweet way.

You could scarcely even nod, just waiting for him again.

When Joel plunged back in, he heard a feral little cry, and he felt your legs wrap around his waist. He went faster. You fisted the pillow behind your head in one hand, while the other laid flat on his chest, like you were checking for a heartbeat. You could probably hear it thudding a million miles per minute right now. Your hips collided in tandem.

“D— Daddy,” you whimpered.

“That’s it, open up for daddy. Good girl. It’s all yours.”

The sounds his thrusts were making were obscene.

“Every inch?” you breathed, “E-Every drop, too?”

“Every fiber of my fucking being, sweet girl.”

That made you smile, at length. Your hand slid from his chest, down his round belly, straight to a groin that was pounding hard and fast against your own. Joel groaned when he felt your touch sweep inside your legs—right in the space where his cum had come trickling out. You slid your fingers through that mess, then whimpered again.

Then you brought your hand up to your mouth.

You wrapped your lips around your cum-soaked fingers like they were the single sweetest thing, and you sucked.

Joel had no say after seeing that: he had to cum again.

It likely stunned you both—you more than him, by the look that crossed your eyes the second you felt him throb and pulse inside your cunt—but then it kept going.

Rather than stop, or slow down in the slightest, Joel found his hips pistoning faster than they had before. The whole bed frame shook, and your body trembled with every thrust, and the noises between your legs grew even louder; the sound of skin slapping skin was only amplified by the addition of Joel’s hot load in the mix.

The man was operating on impulse. You, through sheer awe and an animalistic need to have every crevice filled. You held him and you grit your teeth, and you let him keep using your body, while you used his. You kissed him.

“Go on, then—make me a daddy. Take my cum, baby,” Joel babbled, brainless, “Make your old man a daddy.”

He couldn’t tell if it were the words or the rhythm or the pleasure that had already been blossoming deep in your gut this whole time, but he felt you fall apart. You wrapped your legs tighter around his waist than you had all night, and you screamed his name. Begged for more.

“Cum in me, daddy—pleasepleaseplease just cum, ju—”

And there he went. Again. Flooding your insides with his warmth and letting his cock carve a wild, relentless path through your cunt like it was all the man knew how to do. He filled you up. He felt it leaking down his length with every stab of his hips, and frankly, he didn’t care what he looked like now. You were smiling big, drawing him in for more kisses as he panted and grunted and whimpered like he never had before. He kissed back. Slowed down.

Found himself lost in your mouth as your tongue wove delectably through his own and your hands made their way to his wild, greying hair. You tugged, and he moaned.

He fucked his spend deeper without even meaning to.

All instinct again, it seemed he couldn’t get enough.

Suddenly, he felt a new, strange urge bubble up.

“I-I-I took a pill tonight,” he blurted out, “Know how badly you want this baby, and I wanna give you one.”

Or two. Or twenty. He was barely capable of speech, let alone rational cognition, so he just spoke whatever came to his mind then, still snug inside your legs and panting.

“A pill?” you whispered back.

Joel’s gaze locked with yours.

He felt stupid for it all at once.

“Yeah. Yeah, I just— I know I’m gettin’ on in years, and I probably can’t fuck the way I used to. And you deserve someone who can…Maybe a guy your age, but that—”

“—is the single dumbest thing you have ever said to me,” you finished for him, eyes narrowing swiftly in a scowl.

When Joel tried talking again, you cut him off.

“I don’t care what any guy my age is doing, or could do. I want babies with you, and that includes every part, OK?”

Your look softened momentarily, seeing his lips twitch down—you could probably see he wasn’t believing you.

Then you cradled his face in your palms. You smiled. You brushed his nose with yours, and you kissed him again, and with what little strength you likely had left in your body, you dug your heels in his ass and pulled him deeper. Both of you let out soft, low grunts at the effort.

“If you fucked like this at twenty-five, my body wouldn’t have survived anyway,” you whispered in reassurance. Biting back a laugh as Joel smiled, too, “I like things just the way they are. Just like how I hope you like me, too.”

“No—I love you.” Joel shook his head, almost plaintive.

And for the first time that night, he felt himself soften.

Whether it was the pill wearing off or that first thread of vulnerability stretching out between your body and his, he didn’t really care. He kissed the tip of your nose and was about to say something more, when you cut back in.

“I love you more. And since we’re being honest tonight,” you started quietly, nipping at your bottom lip a second, “I might…need you back at the apothecary tomorrow.”

Joel’s face fell.

“Wh— is something wrong, baby?” His voice was tight.

He hated seeing David, but, of course, he’d go back there in a heartbeat if it meant getting you the medication you needed. His stomach was starting to churn, when you reached up to hold his face again. You shook your head.

“No, no, Joel, I’m fine. But I may need prenatal vitamins.”

Now his eyes were going wide. His cheeks heated under your palms, and his cock twitched inside you, reflexively.

“You mean…” he murmured, unable to finish. Swallowing.

Beneath him, he saw you smile and nod.

He nearly choked hearing what followed:

“I meant to tell you earlier, but…my period’s a little late.”

Smau: "She just left. You can come over now." 😏

- the jjk guys pranking you by texting you "she just left, come over"

nanami, shiu, sukuna, choso, gojo, geto, and toji

contains: crack lol

a/n: something fun while we wait for pt. 4 of the anniversary series 💓

Those ears are ✨sensitive✨ 👀 🖤

Quick Husk I did for one of the chapters of "An exact anatomy of the (ir)redeemable mind"

Day 1, First Kiss

doing GeGoTober on PTRN :)) we're currently at day 7!