Been Thinkin About The Polar Opposite Of Bimbo Reader For Price So I Raise Yall: Weird Fiancee Gf X Price

been thinkin about the polar opposite of bimbo reader for price so i raise yall: ‘weird’ fiancee gf x price <33

you’re into vulture culture and are probably hoping to actually get into taxidermy too. you’re also into crowcore.

you have a cat, but john never knows which one it is because every time he comes back, it’s a different one (it started with a birman and the recent one is a british longhair. for some reason, all these cats answer to the same name – cecil).

john had, one time, walked into your office only to see a horrifying long furby snaking around your computer setup.

you describe colours in hex codes. john admits it’s actually so useful, especially for missions, so he picked up the same habit. ghost and soap absolutely hate him now, but kyle rides his wavelength so he’s unofficially been dubbed as price-translator.

you have different aesthetics, and john adores all. he first met you when you were in your goth era. currently you’re in your cyberpunk era.

…you’re in this RP discord and it’s all about lovecraft monsters. you’re abhoth.

and john? john indulges you. he would be cthulhu in your guys’ chat box if you need to use him as a soundboard to see if your silly little writing is making sense. he gifted you your most extensive toolkit for your interest in bone collecting. he buys you limited editions of furbies — you don’t know where he even gets them but you’re not complaining, of course!!

all he asks is that you marry him. pretty, please?

loser ≠ lover (m)

synopsis. He wants you so much, even if you’ll destroy him, because he’d let you.

fem reader x yandere oc.

warnings. yándere, öbsession, masochïstic tendencies, mentions of physical, emotional abûse, unhealthy thöughts, èxtreme obsession, obsessive thoughts.

note. MY FIRST OC!!!!! UHHH IM SO SO NERVOUS BECAUSE IM NEW TO THIS KIND OF THING BUT I HOPE YOU ALL WILL GIVE HIM A CHANCE. HES ALL YOURS TO INTERACT WITH, send fanart?!?? Please I’d be honoured, send asks talk to him!!!! 😭💌

second instalment x

loser boy who worships the ground you walk on!

Who licks off the dirt that trails off your shoes as you walk down the school hallway.

loser boy who is so obsessed with you that he can’t breathe if he can’t get a look at you.

loser boy who can’t feel anything but love for you, passion that pumps so hard in his veins for you, who can’t say a word without stuttering except your name.

Loser boy who follows you around like a lost puppy, who doesn’t care if your ‘friends’ cuss at him, if you call him a dirty dog.

At least you’re talking to him! God, he’s so lucky!

“Goodness fuck off! You sicko! How’d you find my address!?” You spit at him, your eyes filled so beautifully with hues of disgust, your luscious lips curled up in annoyance. He smiles so brightly at you, God, you’re so beautiful.

“O-Oh please! C-Call me more names! P-Please!” He begs, on his knees, his raven hair falling on his grey orbs, his lashes wet as he begs you.

You feel embarrassed, He notices, yet he feels his heart burning from the need to hear you insult him.

It’s been too long.

And that’s why he’s here, at 1 am right infront of your door, begging.

“Fucking masochist! You’re so disgusting! FUCK OFF.” The way your shoe hits his jaw, makes him moan out your name like a prayer.

You groan in anger, he gets up again, you struggle against him, your nails scratch him, the burn feels euphoric, he missed you so bad.

“You don’t understand huh?!? LEAVE. ME. ALONE.” You try to get away from him, the boy doesn’t let you, instead he grabs your legs, wrapping his arms around them, “n-no please! take me back please!” He’s sobbing.

Yet his heart loves the thrill of your resistance, it turns him on so much, his pants feel so painfully tight, “NEVER! You ARE NOT GOOD FOR ANYTHING! You are of no use to me anymore!” you keep insulting him, it makes him feel so relieved.

You hadn’t been talking to him for so long, he almost went insane without you.

“Y-YN p-please kiss me!” He stands up, “p-please!”

“FUCK OFF Ezekiel!” His mind blurs.

His tongue lulls out and he whimpers as you finally utter his name out, it sounds so good, so erotic from your mouth, His name was made for you to call out.

He is so obsessed with you.

“S-Say it again… p-please!” Ezekiel stands up, his knees wobble, the stormy grey eyes are full of lust, craziness.

You roll your eyes at him again, it only makes him so much more excited, he loves your rejection so much, he always has.

Because it’s a unique bond between you, you treat him special, he knows.

“fuck off weirdo.” Ezekiel doesn’t say anything but pushes you against the door of your house, “YN…” he brings his face so much closer to you, he feels scared yet thrilled.

You’re so unpredictable, it makes him shake with anticipation.

“P-Please don’t leave- don’t-don’t abandon me! I-I’m sorry I disappointed you b-but he deserved it.” You raise your eyebrows at his ‘apology’

“No. Get away from me you sick freak! You had no right to beat him up like that, who are you huh? My boyfriend? Please…” you scoff, “you’re nothing to me Ezekiel, absolutely nothing.” You spit again at him.

God.

“You’re just a pathetic man who gets me off. You’re just a pastime you get that?” You point your finger to his chest.

“Y’know you’re lucky you have a big dick and a pretty face. sometimes you’re obedient too and you make good punching bag.” You laugh so cruelly, venom drips in your words.

Yet he takes it as words of praise.

“You’re like my dog.”

Yes he is.

“S-So please just take me back? I-I’m so sorry YN…. Please punish me but not like this! H-HIT ME.” He takes your hand and swipes it hard across his cheek.

You gasp in surprise, Ezekiel looks at you with pure desperation. “Please! I-I can’t live without you,” he bites his lower lip, the mole under his lips becomes more evident.

“I-I can please you! I can help you get off! Please let me- give me a chance- I’ll make you cum as many times you’ll want to- PLEASE GIVE ME A CHANCE AT REDEMPTION!”

“P-Please!”

Take What You Need

Yandere Marc Spector X m!Reader

Not Beta Read - Requested by @theluciansystem

Kinks - Sexual Frustration + Character Offering Themself

Summary

Marc hasn't fronted in a while and is feeling some pent up sexual frustration. He comes to you to satisfy his needs.

Tags/Warnings

NSFW, anal sex, anal creampie, unprotected sex, dubious consent, reader was kidnapped previously and has been living with them for a while, hand job, simultaneous orgasm, Marc is a top, reader is a bottom.

Word Count: 942

Marc came barrelling in through the door to your room, face filled with an expression you’d seen before on a few occasions. He started removing his belt immediately, and you gulped feeling fear pour over you in a wave. When he got like this he was rough, and while you could handle it, that didn’t stop you from feeling a small pang of terror pooling in your gut when he looked at you that way. He must’ve just come back from arguing with Khonshu or one of the boys.

“Come on, how many times do I have to tell you to get ready for me when I come in here? Huh?”

“S-sorry, sorry,” you said hurriedly, sliding off your sweats and scrambling to position yourself the way you knew he liked: face down in the mattress and rear poised in the air.

He always expected you to get ready the moment he walked in, and you were already failing, only serving to piss him off further. You knew the rules, yet you were acting like this was all new to you. Despite his aggravation, Marc smirked when he saw how good you looked from behind. His cock ached between his legs. He was so ready to fuck every ounce of frustration he had into you.

“That’s a good boy,” he said in a low, gravelly tone, striking your ass cheek with an open palm. “Haven’t been inside you in a while. Jake and Steven have been having all the fun, you sure you can handle me honey?”

You nodded, “yes, yes I’m ready.”

It wasn’t like you really had a choice. If you didn’t offer yourself to him willingly, he would just take you anyway. You felt a glob of spit trickle down over your tight ring of muscle. Marc pressed his fat tip against the furled skin, pushing against it to test how easily you would open for him. Marc spit over his cock, grabbing it firmly in his hand and making the length wet before pressing against your hole again.

“You better relax little boy, or this is gonna hurt,” Marc pushed into you, sliding forward full to the hilt, letting out a choked groan as his hips pressed flush against your rear. “You’re so damn tight, fuck…f-fuck.”

Marc slid back and then snapped his hips forward again, resulting in a muffled whine from your lips as you stuffed your face into the mattress. He reached his hand around, caging his fingers around your thick cock, chuckling as he stroked along the length.

“You’re so fucking needy, always playing coy and acting like you don’t want it, but you do want it don’t you? Huh? You need it.”

“Y-yes I need it Marc I–ah!”

“That’s a good boy.”

Marc leaned back, and looked down at the way your hole puckered around his girth. He had you stretched out so wide, you were squeezing him so fucking tight it took a bit of effort to pull back far enough to slam into you again and again…but he did it. He rocked into you, putting every bit of aggravation he harbored into each deep thrust. You whimpered into the mattress, clutching your fists around the sheets tightly.

“Yeah, that’s it, cry for me little boy, cry while I fuck you wide open. Feels good right? That’s why you’re whinin’ like that for me isn’t it?” 

“Yes, fuck-yes!”

He leaned forward again, grabbing onto your girth once more and stroking along your length. Your entire body shuddered under his touch, forcing your hole to clench around him. You heard him let out a choked moan, dropping his face into your shoulder blade. You gasped when you felt him bite down into your flesh. He let out a growling groan.

“F-fuck–honey–shit,” he rasped, mouth still pressed against your back. “You’re squeezing me so tight, so goddamn tight. Steven and Jake haven’t been doing their job have they?”

You were too fucked out to respond anymore. He continued jerking you off, keeping a steady and even pace in tandem with his thrusting hips. The sound of his pelvis slamming against your rear was almost deafening.

“They’re supposed to keep you nice and stretched out for me, but guess they haven’t been doing that very well huh?” Marc snickered against your shoulder, “or are you just this tight all the time?”

You felt yourself getting close, the way your balls tightened and your cock grew harder under the pressure of Marc’s closed fist. He moved faster, angling himself to get deeper inside of you, cock continuing to split you open around him. His other hand was squeezing onto your hip so hard, trying to keep you in place so you didn’t fall forward.

“Can feel your fat cock leaking all over me…my-needy-little-boy–fuck!”

Marc’s hips stopped suddenly with his length buried deep inside you. You felt your hole stretch wider as he throbbed, filling you to the brim with his hot cum. He didn’t stop his fast paced stroke around your own weeping shaft, forcing a choked sound to escape you while you came in his hand. Marc waited until you were finished and growing soft to bring his hand to your mouth.

“Clean it.”

You obeyed, darting out your tongue to lap up your own spend from his fingers. You heard his soft, pleasure laced breaths from behind you while you did. He pulled out of you, making you feel empty immediately with the absence of his cock inside your hole.

Marc stopped in the doorway on his way out, “I’ll be back in an hour…and you’d better be on your knees and ready for me.”

----

Marc Spector Masterlist

Moon Knight Masterlist

Melody's 1k Celebration Masterlist

FRANCIS MOSSES 交易 ── `` DARK CONTENT﹕monsterfucking. top amab reader. doppelgänger francis. handjob. no protection + preparation. overstimulation. ✶ IN WHICH you unknowingly let the wrong francis inside.

the prospect of you being fired—or worse, being put in a cell—was incredibly likely. enthusiasm of the milkman’s arrival being your final entry request for the day lead to your upcoming demise.

it shouldn’t be on you, both the blame and responsibility. the given identity document had indistinguishable information, merely an artist’s mistake as you finally realize that his eyebrows were just a tad thicker. his eyes were a bit too lively for the real francis.

realization dawned on you a second too late as you feel cold, but strangely simultaneously familiar and unfamiliar hands grab you from behind. before you could reach the rotary phone to contact the D.D.D., he grabbed your wrist and spun your chair around to face him.

francis, or so you thought, had a gentle smile plastered on his face but you knew better to tell that his intentions were far from truly kind. “don’t tell me you were actually going to let them kill me,” your jaw tightened, gaze hardening into a glare. he chuckled, hands landing on the armrests, so dangerously close to yours that were balled in fists to prevent yourself from punching his face.

when you didn’t respond, he continued. leaning in as he shook his head with a scoff, “aw, c’mon. . .we both know that you’re too much of a good sweetheart, yeah? please don’t try that again.” his saccharine voice was improbable, a subtle take of a threat behind his tone.

“you’re gullible enough to think i’d do that for you.” the tension between you was palpable, a thin thread that threatened to break at the tip of his finger. his lips pouted, sadness in his untrue eyes. “me? but you’re the one who let me in here,” he laughed, tone rather arrogant, “and i should thank you for that.”

if he were the real francis, you probably would have been making out with him by now. this doppelgänger was awfully confident, you wish you could break him. see tears fall down to his round cheeks, lips trembling as pleas tumbled out of his pretty lips.

these thoughts were idiotic. but fuck, he was near enough to the milkman, the clueless neighbor who could care less about it all. “want me to spare you? or—” you cut him off, lips connecting with his. francis was surprised, but welcomed it nonetheless. his hand came up to your neck, sliding towards your hair. groaning as he gently, almost experimentally, tugged at it. tongue met tongue, a clash of saliva and mess. you bit onto his bottom lip, eliciting a soft moan.

“mmph, and here i thought you hated me.” he grinned, panting, “what gave you that idea?” you place a kiss on his chin, “because you tried to get rid of me, and the fact that. . .i’m not him.” grabbing his hips, he let out a yelp. he scrambled to hold onto your shoulders for dear life, gasping when he felt your teeth graze against his neck. “seems like i’ve struck a nerve, hu—haah, fuck!”

a lewd moan had escaped him, your teeth sinking into his flesh. it was far from gentle, biting him like you wanted to see him bleed. he was simply a doppelgänger that you stupidly let in, after all.

the pink muscle settled in your mouth lapped at the bite, cueing francis to whimper at the sensation. he moved closer on your lap, grinding against your crotch. the action could’ve been mistaken for something relating to a dog; for he seemed like a bitch in heat. quite uncharacteristic for his kind. “you’re pathetic, mosses.”

francis, beyond belief, was affected by the use of the stolen surname more than you anticipated. his hips trembled, “that’s, haah, not my fault. you made me like this. fucking a– ah! doppelgänger, really? they’d surely co– come for you next.” his cock twitched, spilling pre-cum that formed a wet patch on his boxers. you were a lowly human, another one to get rid of, so why does he feel this way?

silence was met with his words. not until you pull down his pants, taking off what was left until his lower half was bare to you. “oh yeah? you’re letting me fuck you,” your fingers wrapped around the base of his dick, giving a single stroke, “you’re not even trying to fight back against me, honey.”

he whined, beginning to selfishly rut into your palm. “what were you going to say?” francis doesn’t respond and you twist your wrist, a cry slipping from him. you asked on a whim, wishing to hear what he planned besides allowing you to carry on with your life. “i-i don’t know!” your thumb presses down on his slit, causing him to wrack his brain to remember. “ah, ah, i meant to ask if you wa- want me to kill you right he— hmmng!” his voice wobbled as if he was fearful, tears in his eyes and he’s suddenly ethereal.

“do you still want to do that? to end my life?”

“no, no, please, i didn’t mean it.”

you tease the vein that ran on his shaft, never failing to witness the face he makes when he’s within the depths of pleasure; of that high he never dared to reach. oh, if only if it was francis mosses. the real one, the one you’re so curious about, the one who your eyes like to linger on a bit too long for comfort. your pace picks up, palm slick with his pre-cum and the room’s sinful with his sobs and arousal.

francis moans under his breath, “i’m cumming-!” he warns a second too late, hips bucking as the familiar fluid splatters across your fingers. the doppelgänger was your very own legendary mona lisa with how his face is painted with all shades of red.

when you swipe your thumb over his tip, he swore he had a glimpse of the deity he didn’t have the conscience to worship.

beliefs were foolish; it was his opinion. with that, he thought you were the one insane. doppelgängers aren’t flawed with such imperfections like humans are. he didn’t need to be prepared for situations similar to this, and you used his inhumanity for your pleasure.

“ughm, agh!” you had wordlessly given your cock a few pumps, no more than that before slipping inside of his tight hole. the tiniest beginning of guilt threatened to engulf you with shame, but why should you allow it? his mere purpose and intention was to murder.

his hole spasmed around you, freely welcoming the intrusion. maybe they were quite useful after all. he whined, his insides tingling with the stretch. the doppelgänger has never felt so full, or genuinely anything, for that matter. “please—fuck, move already, damnit.” he, himself, was breathless.

how could you deny him?

your hands grasped his hips tightly, like you wanted to indent a marking into his flesh. cold emanated from your palms, contrasting to the heat licking at his cheeks. he’s lighter than you’d expect, hole gripping you as if he was a fleshlight. lifting him up, your tip was held onto. heavenly; as the way he wrapped around you was undeniably heavenly.

sensing his apparent impatience, you let him crash down on you. a broken gasp-of-a-moan occupied the air, globs of pre-cum building on his slit. “yeah, fuck me like that,” he breathed, instructions hazily clear to your sex-deprived brain. his ass slapped, slapped, slapped against you. shit, the D.D.D. surely ought to give you a punishment worse than death for this.

he clung onto you, both with his arms and entrance. you don’t think you could really get enough—as vague as this memory could get. your tip brushes against his prostate with each harsh thrust, slick sounds adding onto the cotton pressed into his little head, forming static and nothing else to focus on besides your cock pounding into him. “you’re liking this- ahngm! right? like how good i feel? haa, needed your dick in me s’ bad. . .”

he pushed his hips forward, grinding on your cock as he purposely clenched. “thaaaat’s it, sweetheart. think ‘m gonna keep you.”

yeah, let’s hope your neighbors forgive you for indulging in him.

masterlist﹒divider﹒artist kaworinx

nanny!reader but price is married to a bitch who doesn't like him, their kids, and absolutely HATES reader. ik cheating is bad but c'mon PLEASE

(18+ smut, fem!reader, nanny!reader, infidelity but not by you x, daddy kink which is crazy cause who the hell am i rn writing a daddy kink, breeding kink which is def not a surprise, usual fern unedited shit, abrupt ending, ok that’s it)

—•—

you could feel his wedding band.

the cold press of white gold against the hot curve of your arse. your skin was burning up, on fire. his hands were hot, too. warm and white-knuckled. callouses on the pads of his palms.

you could feel it when he pawed at your breasts, kneading with strong fingers. the press of the metal against the fat there made your eyes roll, whimpers falling from your mouth.

you could feel it when he was knuckle-deep in the tight, warm heat of your cunt. gushing around two fingers, dripping over his hairy knuckles. scissoring you open, kiss-swollen and puffy, clit racing with your heartbeat.

when you could feel it, inside you on some other part of your body, it made your heart race and your stomach flip. it got you excited. maybe it got you excited because it was a wedding band that you didn’t give him.

in the back seat of his car, you could feel it pressing against the back of your neck as he held you there and bounced you on his cock.

in the back seat of the car he had chosen with his wife. that smelled of the air-freshener she had chosen.

he had you straddling him, thick thighs sitting alongside his, the fat rippling with each of his heavy thrusts upwards. he grunted with each one, too. each time the flared head of his cock knocked upwards, he grunted. each time your pussy clenched around him, milking him, he grunted, jaw clenched.

the car rocked. like a boat atop a wake. the car he let his wife choose rocked as he fucked the woman who cared for his kids. who acted more the mother than she did.

it rocked as you moaned, one hand resting on his broad shoulder, the other smearing down the fogged window, tinted but not impenetrable. it was dark outside, the moon illuminating the front section of your house.

the hand around the back of your neck kept you grounded. kept you slamming down onto him. kept your swollen clit brushing against the coarse patch of hair at the base of his cock. a cock which split you open, which had your soaked cunt spilling around him, running onto the seats.

the seats which she designed. the wife. which she had chosen, and he had approved, and in reality she really didn’t give that much of a thought. she didn’t like them in the end.

you liked them. they were comfortable, and the colour was nice.

you could see a lot of that colour in your blurred vision, swimming with tears. john kept his hand on the back of your neck, the other on one of your soft hips. he pulled you, with force, downwards to meet his thrusts, cockhead punching the air from your lungs.

you moaned his name, and he grunted in return. the hand on the back of your neck eventually found your jaw, his fingers grasping your chin. holding. securely.

your body moved with him, pressure building in the depths of your stomach. somewhere deep in the marrow of your bones.

and when two of his fingers slipped into your parted mouth— his middle and his ring finger— and when you could feel the press of his wedding band against your lips, as the pads rested against your tongue, you saw stars. came so hard it made you dizzy.

or,

on his bed. that he shares with his wife. a wife who could never truly love him as much as you loved him. not that you told him that, but you assumed that he probably knew, deep down.

so, of course, you let him fuck you. let him fold you over with your chest pressed into the bed, your arse in the air, knees dimpling the mattress, face pressed into the sheets that smelled of him.

his hips slammed into you, hairy thighs pushing against you. you had felt that wedding band when he coaxed you onto your knees after making you come around his tongue, and then again when he pulled your arse cheeks apart to spit against your holes.

you felt it when he fingered the spit into the wet clutch of your pussy, and felt it when he teasingly slid his thumb, skimmed his thumb, over your arsehole. you felt it when he gripped the fat of your arse, wiping a wet J across your skin. and you felt it when he spread you again and slowly pushed his cock into your cunt.

you wanted to feel it all the time. it fed into your dark little fantasy that he belonged to you. that you weren’t just some nanny for his kids.

eyes closed, you focused on the pleasure. the velveteen ridges of his cock rubbing against the gummy walls of your cunt, the vein running along the underside, the way he held your hips and fucked into you.

rutted into you whilst pawing at your flesh. leaning forward, john’s belly pressed against your lower back, and he reached around your soft body to rub at your clit. you could feel the wedding band, warm now, skim against your mons. fleeting, but it made you moan as he began toying with your clit.

he fed into your fantasies. while his wife was at a work conference, doing god-knows-what with god-knows-who, he had his nanny— his play-pretend wife— folded like a seashell beneath him, playing with her pearl, so to speak.

“so noisy, sweet girl. y’gonna wake the kids, hm?” he whispered, voice dark. “gonna wake our kids.”

you bit into the sheets beneath you, moans catching in your throat. the slick sound of your pussy had your head in a spin, and the weight of his cock pistoning in and out of you made you want to cry out.

“my special girl, always takin’ such good care of ‘em. and y’take such good care of me, too, don’t you?” john grunted out, bed creaking, balls slapping against you, warm.

you nodded, breathing hard.

john hummed, pleased, continuing to rub at your clit in tight, but sloppy circles. you were so wet, sopping around his cock, folds puffy and glistening.

“best wife a man could ask for,” he told you in a way that almost pushed you over the edge. you held strong, though, as your legs started to tremble. he continued, “got me a pretty little bird, didn’t i? ‘m so fuckin’ lucky, baby.”

you whimpered. mewled. the fingers on your clit were lead-heavy and molten hot. static built in the base of your spine, pleasure rocking through every single one of your nerves. you felt yourself gushing around him.

you don’t know how he managed to get you this wet every time you fucked, but he did. maybe it was the years of experience. maybe it was just john being john. either way, he was the best fuck you’d ever have. and, if he could help it, the only one you’d ever have again.

he groaned above you. “mhm, that’s right. that’s right, pretty girl, keep this pussy nice n’ tight for me— that’s it, can feel you squeezin’ me. you wanna come?”

you nodded. you didn’t even know if you wanted to come, but your body was on the brink of something. tingling, pressure. either, you were about to have the hardest orgasm of your life, or you were about to have an outer-body experience. maybe both.

you could feel the wedding band against the soft, bare skin of your hip as he quickly shifted his hand away from your clit to really fuck you. a good couple of thrusts, and you were coming all over his cock— with a loud cry of his name, but muffled by the sheets.

your pussy gushed around him, leaking down your thighs, and you cried out for him— please, please, please, as he stuffed you full of his cock. in and out, drawing squelches and suction sounds. wet and warm and tight.

“let’s put another baby into you. eh, pretty? let me stuff this wet cunt— let me put a baby in this tummy of yours,” he cooed, hoarse and gruff and the type of man you knew you wanted to have kids with. i mean, you didn’t actually have any kids of your own, but you had his to look after. and those were close enough. he moaned, uttering, “m’gonna come inside you.”

gripping, kneading, squeezing. the wedding band on your skin. you sobbed into the sheets.

john groaned. “that’s it, sweet girl. just like that. m’gonna come. you— fuck, you gonna ask your daddy to come inside you?

you were still sobbing at the overwhelming pleasure. you turned your head to plead with him. “please, john, please come inside me— please, daddy, fuck—”

he spoke over you as he bucked his hips. “yeah, uh-huh, that’s it, baby. that’s— yeah, that’s fuckin’ it, m’gonna make you a mama— gonna make you my wife—”

he came inside you with a guttural moan, his cock wedged tightly inside your heat, which pulsed around him with the force of your third (?— probably, something like that. you lost count a while ago) orgasm of the night. you mewled into the mattress like a cat.

and then he fucked his cum into you. pushed it right towards the plug of your cervix with his wedding band on his finger and his hands holding you still beneath him.

holding his nanny still beneath him as he fucked a fat load of come into her soaked pussy. wishing to get her pregnant.

one day, you wouk be his wife. but for now, you were content with him fucking you within an inch of your life, then complaining about his actual wife just the next day.

what a life you live, huh?

𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐅 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑!

🪽ᯓᡣ𐭩 jason meets a single father, desperate for a chance at love again. little did you know, you’re right up his alley! ~

⋆˚࿔ FEATURING . . 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ JASON TODD X MALE! READER

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . cw — ftm!reader, dilf!reader, red hood! jason in mind, age gap [reader is in his 30s while jason is 23] mentions of divorce, sexting, doggy style, implied size differences, breeding, jason wants to knock you up so bad omfg

[・:。author’s note ! 「 ✉️ 」・𓂃 ࣪˖ this was lowkey a little self indulgent but can you blame me? no. now shush and enjoy <3

ᥫ᭡. — jason todd never really cared about his dating life, and really why should he? getting blown up, resurrected and busting some heads open keeps a man busy! if he’s not dealing with black mask’s goons or the bat himself, you can find him in the nearest diner enjoying his own company. that is of course..until he laid eyes on you.

ᥫ᭡. — alone and pretty, you sat at the bar stood a couple feet away from him. staring down at the empty pit of your dark coffee, you’re heart heavy and tears threatening to spill out. jason, while having a hard outer, still had a little heart to scotch over and struck up small talk with you. after all, he did say it himself that he is a good listener! after some innocent chatter, you finally allowed the friendly face to fall and began to vent to the stranger. you’re recent yet messy divorce from your ex-husband, the juvenile drama he brought, the exhausting routine of juggling work with your daughter—wait. you had a daughter?! jason eyes widened, finally allowing himself the realization. you were one hell of a dilf! <3

ᥫ᭡. — despite being nearly a decade apart in age, you looked so damn good. tired eyes peering upwards at him with that adorable, gentle smile. fuck, you were so small compared to him. he could’ve easily picked you up and threw you over his huge shoulders and just take you away, back to his place. his bed. he couldn’t stop the lewd images from flooding his head, you taking his girth in that pretty mouth or face down while he dicked you down doggy style. you’d make the prettiest noises while he breeds your pretty pussy full, only to flip you onto your back and ass fuck you until you ruin the sheets.

ᥫ᭡. — fuck it. he thought to himself as you walked out of the diner happier then before, and with his number too! the next few weeks, every text the vigilante sent you made you feel more in love then your last marriage could’ve gave you. of course, the conversation didn’t stay innocent for long. soon, jason began to open his texts to pictures of you in the sexiest lingerie, you’re legs spread open to show off your needy cunt. strip tease pictures at your workplace’s restrooms in your uniform, and the audios…you’d send him a particularly lewd audio of you fucking yourself with one of your many sex toys you’ve stashed away, moaning jason’s name and begging him to come over and satiate your neglected desires. safe to say, he drove like a madman to your house the next night your daughter is with a sitter.

“o-oh jason! don’t stop please..!”

just like the way he wanted, you face down and ass high up for him to fuck your cunt stupid while you moaned like a bitch in heat. your cute cheeks were littered with his giant handprints from his harsh spankings. you were fuckin’ perfect.

“mm keep talking baby, takin’ me so well like a good little boy yeah?”

jason knew the comedic irony of calling you, an older man, a little boy. yet the name made you clench around his girth with a sigh of pleasure leaking through your drooling lips. you loved that name, a lot. something that snapped the rope of control in two, unleashing an insatiable nature that only existed in his disgusting fantasies.

jason pulled out, grabbing you by your upper body before practically manhandling you onto your back. before you could even make a noise, the young man pressed his whole weight against yours and sunk his cock into you until he was already balls deep. taking it from behind was a challenge in itself, yet he outdid himself once again as a strained moan tore itself out of your throat.

“shhh..” jason’s shushes tickled your ear, drowning out your shakey whines. “relax baby, can’t fuck a baby in you if your squirmin’ like that.”

oh..oh shit. it was enough to have you clench around his girth as he snapped his hips against yours with an unforgiving pace. a pace that spoke more then whatever came out of his mouth. nothing but promises of another baby, a sibling for your little girl from a man you met in a diner not long ago.

“just like that! like that ja..son! oh god!”

nails raked against the bare skin of his back as your felt that familiar yet distant feeling of your orgasm inching closer and closer, eyes rolled to your brain as jason kept spewing out profanities and coos of faux sympathy.

“shiiit, can’t believe you’re husband left you baby. i would’ve knocked you up every chance i got, treat you like a damn prince..”

he was right, you’re husband never gave you sex this good nor did he spoke such words that went straight into your cunt. every praise, every groan and grunt jason let out pushed you closer and closer..until you finally snapped.

“j-ja-SON! MMM FUCK!”

you gushed all over the vigilante’s cock as he painted your pussy white, breeding you until you couldn’t hold another drop in. the pleasure could’ve damn well nearly killed you as you laid there near unconscious and panting like a dog. jason, however, was only getting started.

“don’t think i’m done with you yet boy..it ain’t over till you’re kid has a sibling.”

© porcalinecunt 🪽ᯓᡣ𐭩ྀི do not steal, translate, or use my work and claim as your own.