#IT MAKES ME WANT TO SCREAM AT THE HEAVENS AND BEG THEM TO TAKE THIS GODDAMN SHIT AWAY FROM ME

[tonycries]

Kiss Me More!

Synopsis. There’s always something that makes him lose control - and you love pushing those buttons.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, rough séx, unprotected, bodyworshíp, stuff with pantíes, bréeding, slight exhíbitionism (Sukuna’s), Nanami and Geto are a bit mean, overstím, finger suckíng, dacryphília (Geto’s), pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.1k

A/N. Bro my laptop crashed thrice trynna write this um.

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - “Raw?!”

Great, Toji thinks, he’s finally lost it.

Because sooner have the words left your swollen lips, all the blood goes rushing to his achingly hard cock - so swollen and already leaking hot precum all over your trembling thighs. Some dark, primal part of himself being poked so dangerously awake.

“Are ya sure, doll?” he breathes, and the words come out ragged - pained even. Like some part of himself wanted you to save no, was begging you to say no - for his own sanity. Because just the thought of your pretty lil’ cunt wrapped around his cock makes him feel lightheaded. “We don’t-”

“I wan’ to,” you give him a determined little nod. Spreading your legs further and oh Toji lets out a hoarse grunt at the heavenly sight. Hanging on your every word as you continue, “What’s the worst that can happen?”

That was hours ago - oh, how foolish you were. 

You never thought that those would be the words that make your poor boyfriend snap. That it would only take him just barely grazing his angry, weeping tip between your puffy folds. Up and down up and down up and- down went every rational thought. 

Too depraved. Too lost in the feeling of finally having you and your soft pussy and you-

“C-can’t believe you’ve been ngh- fuckin’ holdin’ out on m-me.” He was in heaven, making you cum over and over and-

And you were clawing limply at the drenched sheets, the headrest, Toji’s shoulders - just anything and everything for some semblance of sanity. 

“T-Toji-” you sob, “S’too much. I- ngh- can’t anymore-”

“Fuck! Been hah- holdin’ out on me.” he groans, like a mantra. Brows furrowing as he squeezes his swollen cock harder into your plushy walls. And if it was any other time then Toji might’ve almost been embarrassed at the way his sentence cracks ever-so-slightly at the end. Choking out, “One more- gimme j-jus’ one more.”

“But-” Big, fat tears roll down your burning cheeks as large fingers dip down to toy your sensitive clit between them - no rhythm or rhyme, just to get you off. “You said the p-previous one would ngh- b-be the last.”

Ah, you were so cute blabbering out little pleas. And the only response you get is a devilish smirk, Toji’s darkened, hooded eyes boring into yours as he hums, “Did I? I don’t remember.”

He did remember. Very well, in fact as he pushed you to your nth orgasm tonight. And it took everything in him to hold off his high as he fucked you through yours, whispering out hollow promises about it being the “last time” and just “one more”. 

“S’okay-” Toji nips playfully at your wobbling lips. Salty with the taste of your overstimulated tears. “One more- you can mmpf- cum f’me once more, right?” 

And Toji’s barely-there sense of rationality in him knows he should slow down. Ease up his bruising grp on your hips. Have at least some shred of concern as he fucks your quivering cunt rougher, like his personal sex toy more than anything. 

Yet, no, right now he couldn’t even think straight. Too focused on how your moans were so sweet. Lips so pretty screaming out his name. Snug cunt too fucking heavenly when you cum all over his cock, squeezing him like your slutty lil’ pussy was trying to milk the fucking soul out of him. So hard and addicted that Toji was hooked. 

You mewl a delirious little, “H-hooked?” Batting your hazy eyes up at the monster above you, who seemed well and fully intent on making you cum until you couldn’t anymore. “Y-you’re hooked?”

Whoops, did he say that out loud? Seems you weren’t the only one that was completely and utterly wrecked here. 

“Shhh,” Toji drops his head once more to kiss away your adorable pout - the one that only makes his balls squeeze so painfully. “Just focus on how ngh- fuckin’ food ya feel, pretty.” Fingers erratic on your throbbing clit, just soaked in your sweet juices. Moving deftly to spell out a messy T-O-J-I. Over and over and- “After all, this hah- pussy now belongs to me now, right?”

And it’s all you can do to give a delirious little nod, words slurring together as you hiss a low, “Y-yours- S’all for- ngh- you-” Hips bucking wildly underneath his strong figure. “Close- m’gonna cum, Toji-”

The only response you get is a guttural groan of what sounded like your name - followed shortly by a string of profanities as Toji speeds up his abuse on your cunt. One hand reaching out to grip onto the headboard, so hard that if you were in any better state of mind the two of you would have registered the sharp snap! 

The other almost-feverish on your poor clit - like it hurt to not have you cumming all over his cock now. Spelling his name over and over and-

“Oh I’ll let ya cum-” Hips stuttering and so so sloppy now. Sounding like his sanity was dancing away every time his hips slapped bruisingly against yours. “Gonna make you c-cum so ha- hard you’ll forget everything else-”

You’re letting out strangled little gasps in response, hips torn between running away and fucking down for more more more-

“Fuck- hope you’re on the pill, doll.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Painted white

“Whoops.”

Nanami well and fully thinks that it’s your fault he feels less of a man than some monster right now. He acts like it, too, holding back a sultry little smile as he fucks you deeper and deeper into the mattress. 

Close - too close. 

Close enough that he’s immediately pulling out of your snug cunt. So fucking difficult with the way you’re sucking him up so good - but oh was it worth it watching the way your swollen lips drop into a soft oh! Glassy eyes snapping down to catch the way he fucks his fist once, twice. Before spilling all over your swollen folds, painting you such an obscene white over and over and-

“Now now,” you can only keen in response as your husband hums lowly. Fist sliding languidly up and down his angry, red cock. “Guess we hafta hah- do it all over again, my love.” 

Yeah, definitely worth it with the way he had you all breathless and needy, your slutty lil’ pussy just begging to go over the edge - only to tease you at the very last second. God, it’s been like this for so long now. 

“So mean,” you give Nanami a little pout - one that has his still-painfully hard cock twitching so sensitively in his hand. Big, fat tears welling up in your eyes as you continue, “You’re being so ngh- mean, Ken.”

Oh, damn that little nickname - the exact same one you’d scream when you’re close. Damn the way you cock your head just right, batting your lashes so deceivingly innocently up at him.

Damn the way he snakes his hand down to the sinful little pool of cum spreading all over your lower stomach. Letting it trickle onto his fingertips - immediately shoving them between your lips to shut up those pretty lil’ moans. 

“Mean?” he manages to chuckle. Tips of his fingers pressing right at the back of your tongue. Slapping his swollen cock on your stomach, “Is this what you ah- wanted? Are ya happy now, my love?” 

The sight of you all teary and gagging around his fingers was almost as addictive as the sight of you covered in his cum. Almost. 

He sweeps his eyes all over where you were splayed out so prettily for him. Your glossy lips, the streaks of cum on your stomach, your chin, everywhere and anywhere - except where you wanted the most. 

It had started with an accident, really, when he’d pulled out a bit too early tonight. And fuck if Nanami didn’t think that sight of you all dripping and covereed with him was like the gates of heaven spread wide open all for him. A new, dangerous addiction. 

Which is why he’s pushing his fingers deeper, whispering out a ragged little, “Shit, you’re so messy.” Purposefully dragging his thumb across your lower lip to smear the mess everywhere. Your lips, your chin, inside. “So filthy.” He can’t even think about bringing himself to be disgusted. Dipping down the valleys of your chest, down, down down, to where his achingly hard tip was just kissing your quivering entrance now, “So perfect.” 

And without warning, Nanami’s splitting you apart on his massive cock once more. Jaw falling slack ever-so-slightly at the way you’re taking him up so readily - inch by fucking inch like it hurt to be apart.

“F-fuck,” you moan, the words broken as he starts moving inside - back to picking up that unforgiving pace from earlier, like he never stopped. “Hngh- s’too good- too full, Kento-”

“Awww, what happened to ‘Ken’?” Nanami cuts you off uncharacteristically. Hips slowing down to lazy, mindless little movements that have you gasping in protests. “Was gonna cum on your pretty face this time hah- s-seems you don’t want it, hm?”  

And ah, let it be known that Nanami Kento would burn down the world for his wife. 

But what fun it was to tease you - to have your mouth dropping in disbelief, eyes widening in your delirious state. Babbling out a broken, “No no no, Ken- hngh- wan’ you to cum inside.” Back arching off the bed, grappling pathetically for more more more- “To paint me white inside- Please?”

Oh, did you know how to push his buttons just right. Because how could Nanami deny you begging so prettily like that?

Because the sentence is barely out of your mouth before neat nails are digging into your hips as Nanami pulls your hips closer, milking his cock on your snug cunt - so hard he knew it would leave marks. His heavy balls on your ass, your ankles on his shoulders, nails dragging down his bulging biceps as you moan his name. 

Whispering, breath hot against your ear, “You’re right.” Voice so strained and dark that you almost don’t recognize it as your husbands. “So, so right.”

Nanami’s index finger coming down to draw an invisible line right where he could feel his cock making a mess of you inside. 

“Ah! Ken, W-what-”

“You’re so right.” he’s breathing against your mouth, like a little prayer. Tasting the sweet candy of your lips and himself and you- “The next spot-” Pressing his finger down right on that spot, hard. Like he wanted to feel himself more than anything. “Will be here.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - Pretty when you cry

“S-Sugu, are you okay?” you’re looking over your shoulder to ask. 

Nothing. Absolutely nothing - except for Geto’s heavy breathing, and the lewd little squelches from down below, his swollen cock just barely sinking into your heavenly cunt. And you know it doesn’t bode well.

You’d be almost worried if it wasn’t for the way his eyes were half-lidded, pupils blown and just locked on that single, stray tear rolling down your cheek. Such a dark little glint in his gaze that had you wondering whether you should be concerned for him or yourself. 

Yet you manage to choke out a little, “Suguru?”

Ah that snaps him out of his little reverie, suddenly too-aware of your plushy walls sucking the soul out of his hot, angry head. 

With work, it’s been a while since Geto got to fuck your snug cunt - and you needed to breathe, maybe spread your legs more. Relax, because it was so fucking tight and Geto wasn’t even halfway. The stretch way too sinful. Too much. Your lips wobbling at how massive his cock was, and oh- was that another tear going down your pretty face?

You don’t even get to confirm because several things happen at once - immediately, he’s pushing his aching dick in one, harsh thrust. Head dipping down to pool the tears streaming on his hot tongue, groaning at the taste.

“O-oh.” you manage to grit out, feeling like Geto was pushing into your fucking lungs. “S’too big. Sugu, ah!”

“Shhhh, gorgeous.” he’s dragging his lips down your neck, fingers dancing down your body to roll your ravaged clit between them. “S’alrigh- ngh-” And you didn’t know whether he was reassuring himself more than you. “You got it. Y-you’ll take it- you always do, right?”

And he was right - but you’d forgotten how unforgiving Geto’s cock was. How unforgiving he was as he pries away your fingers gripping onto the headrest - trying pathetically to pull away from the pressure down below. 

Hah, he thinks, intertwining them so mockingly with his own, as if he’d let such a pretty lil’ thing like you escape. 

Romantic - the way this was supposed to be. 

Yet, now, Geto was fucking you like anything but. 

“You’re not trying to- fuck- run away,” he’s purring in your ear, rubbing his thumb over your swollen clit once. Twice. As if trying to will the answer out of you, “Right?” Not even waiting for your answer before reeling his hips back, all the way till his fat tip was just kissing your sloppy entrance. “After we hngh- haven’t done this in so-” Slamming his hips down. Harsh. “-long?”

And shit- he was acting like it, too. So depraved and filthy the way he was drinking up your cute lil’ moans, tasting your tears on his lips while he couldn’t decide between bruising your poor cervix and hitting that one spot. “T-too fuckin’ long, gorgeous.”

The only answer he gets is your sweet, simpering whine of “Sugu- Sugu Sugu- oh my god.” Back bowing off the bed because it’s gotten so much. “C-can feel you so deep inside.”

Really, how could Geto even think about stopping himself from kissing down your arched back? Looping two strong arms around your waist to pull you impossibly deeper down his cock. 

“Ah! Oh my god- Suguru!” you keen as he falls back on his knees with you in tow, your back against his muscled front. Spreading your legs to fuck up so mindlessly into you. Jagged, long thrusts, bouncing you like a toy on his aching cock. Rough. “So much- so- ngh-”

Ah, your pretty little cries are just music to his ears. Fuck, he forgot how pretty you looked when you were all breathless and crying on his cock.

“Such a cute lil’ actress.” he coos, voice going up each time his heavy balls smack your ass. Fingers drawing such tight little circles on your throbbing clit. “Love these hah- pretty tears.”

“S-So mean, Sugu-” you’re choking as his thrusts get purposeful - calculated. Hitting that one magical spot he’ll never forget no matter what. Over and over and over while all you can do is cry out teary moans of his name.

Thigh quivering at the sheer stimulation, “Yeah- yeah, jus’ like that.” And oh Geto wishes he could taste down there, too. But instead settles for doing that later - getting those sweet, overstimulated tears out of you. “My gorgeous girl, cryin’ on my cock. Ngh- gonna cum f’me?” Pressing a chaste kiss to the side of your forehead - the complete opposite of his hips. “Gonna c-cry while you’re mm- cumming all over my cock?”

And as if he really really wanted to see it - Geto’s only getting sloppier. 

So embarrassing with the way he was whispering out sweet little degradations in your ear, guiding you closer and closer. 

So embarrassing with the way he eagerly watched all your minute reactions.

So embarrassing with how you cum exactly the way he wanted you to - teary and breathless. A quick scream of Geto’s name before you’re seeing stars behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears. 

Cunt clamping down so deliciously on his cock. So dizzying that you barely even register the hot tongue lapping at the fresh wave of tears.

“Ah, as perfect as I hah- imagined.” Geto grits out, sounding every bit absolutely wrecked. “Now I jus’ n-need to know if you’ll cry as much when m’filling you up.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - “Just the tip.”

“Hngh- f-fuck, baby.” he whines into your open mouth, strong hands pulling your trembling hips impossibly closer to his. “J-jus’ a bit deeper- only a bit deeper, I promise.”

Ah, if only you weren’t split apart so deliriously on Choso’s cock you might’ve been able to actually form a coherent sentence to- what? Snap at him? Beg him for more?

You don’t even know at this point, because it’s been like this for so long now, and Choso promised it would be just his weeping tip. He promised it would be quick and he just “wanted to feel his girl’s pretty pussy.” Over and over again as he pushed your legs all the way until they were pressed against your tits, heels pressing into the mattress as he slides his massive cock even deeper-

“Cho!” you yelp, feeling the thump! thump! thump! of those prominent veins down the side rub against all the right spots. “You said-”

“I know I know, m’sorry.” he gasps. Brows scrunching as he nevertheless bullies his cock deeper inside your gummy walls. Choso’s cock too big, the stretch too sinful. Dropping his head to kiss your bruised lips, “M’sorry, jus’ a bit more. Jus’ a bit- hah- a bit deeper-”

And oh, he shouldn’t have done that. 

Shouldn’t have let himself that last bit of freedom, because he sinks only a bit more into your heavenly cunt - so dripping wet and milking the soul out of him - that Choso can’t help but think he wants more. 

“Baby…” Choso purrs hotly against your ear, hips thrusting in slow, shallow little grinds - and you already know too well what he’s about to beg for.

“Cho.” you groan, warningly. “You said j-jus’ the ngh- tip.”

“Awww.” he groans. So fucking pretty with his long hair undone, some strands sticking to his flushed skin. Eyes hazy and miles away as he looks at you through those long, dark lashes. “Jus’ a bit ngh- more? Promise I’ll pull out.” As if to support his case, one hand gently tilts your head up to press chaste pecks at the corner of your lips. The other starting to toy with your ravaged clit, “Please?”

And how could you say no to that? 

Especially not when Choso digs his knees deeper into the sheets, rock-hard cock dragging so agonizingly against your walls as he reels his hips back, back, back-

Splitting you apart all in one, harsh thrust. 

It’s all you can do to whine out a pathetic, “O-oh fuck- fuck! S’too deep.” The stretch too sinful, his cock too massive. Tears springing to your eyes as he immediately starts fucking you in quick, ragged movements - not even easing you into it like he usually would. 

“M’sorry, baby.” Choso sounds so fucking wrecked, voice as rough as his hips now. “M’sorry m’sorry. Promise I won’t cum inside. Jus’ a bit more- some- some more-”

And for all the remaining sanity you had left, you didn’t know how promises of “just the tip” turned into empty wishes that neither of you had the patience - nor the sanity - to fulfill right now. 

“Please.” you arch your hips off the bed - and nothing more has to be said, because Choso reads that lust-drunk little plea in your eyes. “Ch-Cho-”

“A bit more.” he lets out a humorless little laugh. Reaching above to lace his fingers on top of your head, pushing you down, down, down impossibly deeper onto his painfully hard cock in a pathetic little cadence to match his. “Jus’ a bit- more.”

It was driving him insane. 

And for all his apologies, Choso isn’t one bit shy when rocking his hips harder into yours. So bruising with the way he leaves marks on your waist, your tits, probably even your poor cervix. Whispering out mindless little promises of pulling out and nonsense about going “jus’ a bit deeper”.

“F-fuck, wan’ you to cum, baby.” The bed is creaking in protest as Choso picks up the pace so sloppily. Hips stuttering and uneven with how fucking good it felt - but hitting the right spots every time. His hands snaking down to roll your sensitive clit between his fingers again. “Cum f’me. Please?”

And it seems that Choso had a penchant for getting what he wanted. 

Because no sooner do the words leave his rosy lips, you’re seeing stars behind your eyes. Blood roaring in your ears, mixing with Choso’s broken little praises as he fucks you through peak after peak of your high. 

Over and over and-

“Sorry-” your eyes snap open at that familiar little phrase falling from his lips. One that you knew didn’t bode well for you or your poor cunt. “Sorry sorry sorry-” Thrusting, once. Harsh. Twitching so wildly inside you that just one more squeeze and he’d be- “C-can I ngh- cum inside, baby?” 

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - A lil’ show

It only takes that first, broken little moan escaping your swollen lips and you already know you won’t make it out intact - nor will Sukuna’s sanity, apparently. 

Because no sooner has that sinful noise left you, Sukuna’s eyes glaze over, jaw dropping so uncharacteristically into a soft oh! Aching dick twitching wildly inside you, hips stuttering against yours as he breathes out, “What was that?”

He doesn’t have the patience to wait for your response - instead, squeezing his swollen cock deeper, fucking all the air - and the words - out of you. 

Which, unfortunately for you, wasn’t exactly the reaction he was hoping for. 

“Aww, c’mon.” the words are groaned into the crook of your neck, sending jolts of electricity all the way down to your dripping cunt. “Give me more ngh- of those-” Large hands tightening on your hips, shifting you around on where you were sat so prettily on Sukuna’s lap. “-pretty moans, brat.”

So that’s what he wanted.

And this was supposed to be something slow. Something lazy, and languid to get the king of curses off before that droning meeting today with his underlings - to take the edge off so that he probably won’t end up killing them all off.

Something it was not supposed to be was Sukuna spreading your legs so shamefully, splitting you apart deeper and deeper on his cock. Trying to find the angle that’s just right to rip those cute lil’ moans out of you.

“C’monnnn.” he gives short, sloppy little thrusts up into your heavenly cunt. “Where is-”

Then suddenly you’re wrapping your arms tighter around Sukuna’s neck, “Ngh! Oh fuck-” Teeth digging into his muscled shoulder, hard - hard enough that it might’ve drawn blood if this wasn’t the king of curses himself. 

“Found it.” And it’s all that’s said before he’s reaching down to spread your puffy folds further, eyes flicking between your wobbling lips and the way your tight pussy was sucking him up so good. Watching the way his massive cock was disappearing in and out in and out in and- “What? Not gonna hah- scream my name anymore?”

“B-because, Kuna-” you gasp, face burning at the way your thighs tremble with the effort to pathetically to meet his unforgiving pace. “They- they’re close.”

Humming in amusement, “Who?”

“Them!” you’re keening - and both of you know you’re talking about those footsteps outside, the thought of Sukuna’s meeting weighing much more on your mind than his. So you’re limply grazing your lips against his, trying to muffle those whimpers falling from your lips. “They’re g-gonna ngh- hear?”

“So?”

You don’t know what you’re reeling more from - Sukuna’s response or the way he’s increasing his pace relentlessly. Trying to pull those sweet sweet moans from you, no care or concern for the ever-closing footsteps outside. 

“I don’t care.” he groans, back arching off the sticky seat of his throne to fuck up into your sloppy hole deeper. “You’re ngh- above them, y’know.” Bouncing you like such a slut on his cock, “So what if they h-hear?”

And God you don’t know who’s more fucked-out right now - Sukuna, who was speaking mindless little nonsense into your ear, or you. Whiney and a mess, tugging on his soft locks - a warning.

One that the man himself blatantly ignores, instead having one hand reach down to roll your throbbing clit between his fingers. 

“Hngh- fuck!”

The moan escapes you before you can bite down on Sukuna’s neck, right above his racing pulse to muffle it. 

“Heh,” shivers run down your spine as Sukuna’s chest rumbles with a laugh. Pulling your lolling head away to crash his lips against yours. Panting into your open mouth, “Sneaky. But they’re only getting closer and-” Rocking his hips harder. Bruising. “-m’only getting more impatient.”

And then he’s fucking up into you with reckless abandon. Smirk spreading at that little ah! ah! ah! leaving your mouth each time he hits that one spot. 

You’re sure that if whatever unfortunate soul was outside couldn’t hear your delirious moans then they could definitely hear the lewd slap of skin on skin. Fast, so unforgivingly loud. His fingers just a blur on your clit. Just taunting those little moans out of you.

You’re gasping at the sheer stimulation, “Y-you’re so-”

“So what?” Sukuna spits into your mouth, “Don’t start ngh- sentences ya can’t finish, brat. Though-” His sharp eyes flicker towards the door, much more aware than whatever hazy mess was left of your senses. “I don’ think you’ll be able f-finish any of them soon enough.”

Barely even giving you the chance to register his words, you’re tilting your head in confusion up at him and-

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Oh, shit. 

“Come in.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - Blue blue blue!

It’s times like this - your blue lingerie almost in tatters, Gojo pushing you into such a tight mating press, filling up your poor pussy over and over - that you wonder when bones will start breaking.

Well, not that your boyfriend would mind either - he wouldn’t mind having to use a bit of reverse cursed technique on what was supposed to be a lazy little cockwarming session. Instead, too focused on how your cunt was sucking him up so good. His cum inside you so warm, the stretch so sinful, your lingerie too blue-

“Heh, what? C-can’t ngh- speak, sweetheart?” Gojo lets out a humorless little laugh. Fingers deftly hooking under your bra strap to give a sharp little snap! “You’re the one that a-asked for this, after ngh- all.”

“B-But, Toru-” you gasp, and it only has Gojo ramming his cock into you deeper. Awe-struck at how you were already so bloated with his cum, but still taking him so well. “Wasn’t on p-purpose-”

“This wasn’t on purpose?” And you know what he’s talking about - that barely-there fabric - the exact shade of his eyes. Only one glance at it had Gojo feeling like something snapped - possibly his restraint, maybe his sanity. Definitely you by the end of this. “This?” 

And you can’t even act coy - you don’t get the chance to. 

Because Gojo’s immediately got his hands everywhere. On your swollen breasts, your hips, the hem of your panties that he just barely had the patience to slide aside before stuffing you full. 

“Y-yes?” you ask, deliciously. Cunt clenching so sinfully around his throbbing cock in- fear? Anticipation? As he looked down so starved at you. 

“F-fuck. Ya shouldn’t have done this.” Gojo’s dragging his lips down your neck, soft. The exact opposite of how bruising his hips were of yours. “Oh, ya shouldn’t have done this-” Lewd curiosity getting the best of him as he dips his hand lower, pressing down just slightly on your lower stomach. “Because now,” Those blue eyes widening at the way his cum gushes down your legs, down his legs. “-m’not gonna let you go until I fuckin’ ruin these.”

And if you were in any better state of mind you could’ve almost laughed - because Gojo was acting like the soaked, flimsy fabric hanging around your body wasn’t already far, far past any salvation. 

No, he was fucking you like he was going to ruin them all over again. Tightening your legs thrown over his shoulders, folding you in half like some ragdoll as he bends down, down, down-

RIP!

You’re gasping at the sharp tear of fabric, one that you barely hear over the fucking obscene squelches from below. “T-Toru-” you squeal, ankles locking in warning. “These ngh- w-were expensive.”

“So?” And for all the world, Gojo has the audacity to sound so genuinely confused. Whispering a soft oh! as he angles his head just right to catch that sinful little tear in your panties. “Whoopsies.”

But, really, what your unregretful boyfriend was actually focusing on was how fucking illegal it should be for you to look this heavenly - legs shaky and limp, his seed forming a lewd little pool. Marked like you were fucking thrown to wolves, but, no, it was actually Gojo Satoru and he couldn’t fucking get enough-

“Five.”

The word comes out abruptly, strangled like Gojo himself was as bewildered as you as he suddenly blurts it out. 

And at your - fucking adorable - look of confusion, he’s kissing away the pout at your lips, murmuring hoarsely, “M’gonna buy you five more of these.”

That’s all that’s said before he’s only rocking his hips harder, feeling more of a fucking monster than he did when he was on the battle field. Wondering whether he’d have to buy a new fucking bed too with the way it was creaking under the pure power. 

And, well, it made some tiny, sadistic little part of Gojo delight to see the effect it had on you. Sweet moans of his name leaving your lips each time he draws rapid circles on your pretty clit. Hips fucking back down to meet his, so sloppy and needy - exactly the way he wanted you. 

“Sh-shit, Toru-” you’re bucking wildly underneath him, “M’close- so fucking close.”

He knew - of course he did. If the way your gummy walls were trying to suck the fucking soul out of him was anything to go by. Clit pulsing in a maddening little thump! thump! thump! that set Gojo’s animalistic rhythm. 

“Cum f’me.” he pants against your open mouth. Fingers hurrying on your clit because he wanted - needed - this so badly. “Cum f’me cum f’me, wan’ feel you squeezing my cock, sweetheart.” Needed to see if your tight pussy could take one more - to see if she’d overflow onto your poor panties again. “Cum f’me.”

“Ngh- fuck- Toru!”

And then you are - you feel it before you realize it. 

Just that white-hot electricity flowing through your veins, and your nails digging into Gojo’s milky skin. Leaving such angry red marks as you chase your high over and over and-

And Gojo wasn’t any better. Just barely having the sense to pull out as his balls squeezed so painfully and he’s painting your quivering pussy white. Thick rope after rope that the smug bastard purposefully smears all over your panties. 

So fucking filthy.

“Ten.” he’s groaning, and you already know what he means. “M’gonna have to buy you ten more after this.”

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

[anth4rax]

I fucking hate when I start talking about weird stuff that makes me uncomfortable because then I just have to keep talking about it until I get tired of talking about it or else it will not go away and start to affect my goddamn shoulder blades and my teeth

Like the fact when someone doesn’t collect everything like coins when it’s SUPER FUCKING EASY it just makes me feel so uncomfortable that I have to move my shoulders a few times to get that feeling away from me

And then there is the dull pencil thing (ESPECIALLY ON MATH TEXTBOOKS) because if I keep thinking about it for long enough it feels like my teeth is grinding in math textbook paper

Sometimes when after I’m done washing my hands it feels like it. I feel so uncomfortable about my hands after I wash them / hands and feet after I bathe / shower touching stuff I always HAVE to spread my fingers and toes or else I will feel very uncomfortable

Not talking about weird stuff that makes me uncomfortable while in the mood to hate on stuff that makes me feel so uncomfortable makes me want to explode. Not even that it makes me want to rip my skin off and crawl out of it.

I just made myself so uncomfortable with that image omfg I HATE IT when muscles are exposed. It’s not that it looks disgusting it’s because of the goddamn bacteria and germs that can get in there

ESPECIALLY CARPET ON MUSCLES THAT MAKES ME WANT TO MOVE MY ARMS OR SCRATCH MY CALVES BECAUSE IT MAKES ME SO UNCOMFORTABLE

NOT EVEN THOSE “SeNd ThIs To An ArTiSt FrIeNd To MaKe ThEm RaGe” VIDEOS CAN MAKE ME THIS FUCKING UNCOMFORTABLE

I WANT TO STOP TALKING ABOUT IT BUT I CANT BECAUSE THEN IT WILK STAY ON MY MIND I HAVE TO TELL SOMEONE ABOUT THESE FUCKING THOUGHTS OR ELSE I WILL FEEL THE NEED TO RIP MY SKIN OFF

EARLIER TODAY I WAS CLAWING AT MY ARM (not too hard tho I didn’t want to actually hurt myself because I’m a goddamn pussy whose scared at doing a lot of stuff because I don’t want to get hurt) BECAUSE I WAS FEELING SO UNCOMFORTABLE BECAUSE OF THESE THOUGHTS AND THAT MY PARENTS TOLD ME TO BRING MY LAUNDRY TO MY ROOM WHEN I WAS HUNGRY (THAT DOESNT EVEN AFFECT ME AS MUCH AS IT DID TODAY WHAT THE FUCK)

[nyc-tophile]

┈┈ made for me ✮⋆˙

Pairing — Robert Reynolds x fem!reader

Summary — Bob’s always tried to be gentle with you—afraid he’d break you. But one night, he lets go of the leash. You feel it the moment he starts talking about how you take him so well, how warm and deep you are, and how perfect your body is for him.

Warnings — [NSFW 18+], breeding kink, creampie, size kink, praise kink, aftercare, cuddling, pillow talk, pregnancy talk.

Author’s Note: I have nothing to say but enjoy.

Bob was trembling.

Not from fear, or pain, or the terrifying godhood that hummed beneath his skin—but from want. From you.

You sat on his lap, straddling him in his room, hands on his chest as he tried not to touch you. His fists were clenched at his sides, body rigid. His eyes flickered, bright then dim, barely controlled.

“Bob”, you whispered, shifting your hips just slightly over the thick bulge beneath you. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” he gritted out. “You don’t know what I’m holding back.”

“I trust you.”

His head tipped back against the wall behind him, throat bobbing with a swallow. “You shouldn’t.”

You leaned closer, lips brushing the shell of his ear.

“I want to feel all of you. Every part you’re afraid to give.”

A choked groan escaped his throat.

He grabbed your hips before you could blink, hands spanning your waist, claiming you. Pulling you down flush against him. You gasped at the pressure of his cock grinding against your core through your clothes.

“You don’t get it,” he growled. “I’ve dreamed of this. Every night. You, riding me, stuffed full, dripping with me. Begging for more.”

“Then make it real,” you breathed.

That broke him.

In a flash, you were pinned beneath him on the bed—your clothes torn, his already half off. He stared down at you like a man possessed.

“Look at you,” he rasped, dragging his fingers down your thighs. “You’re shaking. So pretty. So soft. And you don’t even know what you do to me, do you?”

You whimpered as he pushed your legs apart, settling between them.

“You’re perfect. You fit in my arms, around my cock—like you were made for me.”

He leaned in, teeth grazing your jaw, voice low and thick.

“Tell me you want it. Tell me you want me to fuck you full.”

You arched beneath him, nodding desperately. “I want it. I want you, Bob.”

His eyes flashed gold.

Then he was there, inside you, thrusting in with one long, slow push. You cried out at the stretch, the fullness, the sheer size of him. He groaned, forehead pressing against yours as he held still, letting you adjust.

“God, you’re tight,” he breathed. “Feelin’ like fucking heaven.”

Your walls fluttered around him, already fluttering with the overwhelming sensation.

He pulled back, slowly, before slamming back in, making the bed frame groan under your bodies.

“You take me so well,” he said through gritted teeth. “So deep. Fuck—like you were waiting for me to breed you.”

Your breath caught.

He grinned down at you, wicked and reverent all at once.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you?” He thrust again, hard. “You want me to knock you up. Want me to fill you until you’re too stuffed to move?”

Your moans were shameless now—back arching, nails digging into his broad shoulders as he pounded into you, dragging pleasure from your body with every deep thrust.

He pressed a hand to your lower belly and growled.

“Right here. Feel that? That’s me. That’s how deep I am.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “You think any other man could ever fuck you like this? Ruin you like this?”

“No,” you gasped. “Only you.”

“That’s right. You’re mine.”

He angled his hips and hit something inside you that made you scream.

“I’m gonna breed this sweet little cunt,” he snarled, hand slipping down to rub your clit in tight, fast circles. “Gonna pump you full until you can’t walk without leaking me down your thighs.”

You were close, and he felt it. His mouth was on yours suddenly, kissing you hard, devouring your cries as he rutted into you with godlike strength.

“You’re gonna cum for me,” he ordered, voice ragged. “Then I’m gonna fill you. Every drop. Say it.”

“Want your cum,” you gasped. “Want you to fill me up, Bob—please—”

Then you shattered.

Your whole body clenched around him, convulsing with white-hot release. Bob moaned as he thrust once more, deep and final, coming with a groan that shook the room.

He didn’t stop moving for a long moment, hips grinding slow and deep, as if trying to push his seed farther, deeper, until it stuck.

You were breathless beneath him, panting and sweaty.

He hovered over you, brushing your hair back, eyes filled with something wild and tender all at once.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, kissing your temple. “I couldn’t hold it back.”

You cupped his cheek with trembling fingers.

“I didn’t want you to.”

He closed his eyes.

And when he looked down at your wrecked, fucked-out form, his cum already starting to leak down your thighs, a soft smile ghosted over his face.

-----

The room was quiet now, save for the soft hum of energy still crackling faintly in the walls, residual tension from the storm that had just passed.

You were still beneath him, his body heavy but careful, weight supported by arms that held you like you were made of glass.

Bob wasn’t saying anything.

He was just staring at your face, your chest rising and falling against his, your legs still loosely wrapped around his waist.

You reached up and touched his cheek.

“Hey,” you whispered, voice raspy. “Still with me?”

His eyes flicked to yours. Still glowing faintly, like dying stars. “Yeah.”

But he didn’t move.

You curled your fingers into his hair and gently tugged him down until his forehead rested against yours.

“Bob”.

“I didn’t mean to lose control.”

“You didn’t”, you murmured. “Not in a bad way.”

He let out a shaky breath. “I wanted it to be slow. Good. I didn’t mean to say what I said.”

“You meant every word.”

Silence.

“I did,” he admitted, voice barely audible. “I think about it more than I should. You… swollen with me. Knowing you're mine. That I put something inside you that no one can ever take away.”

The honesty in his voice made your heart ache.

“I’m not scared of that,” you said softly.

He blinked, pulling back just enough to search your face. “You’re not?”

You shook your head. “You think I didn’t know what I was doing? Letting you say those things?”

His hands cradled your face now, thumbs brushing gently beneath your eyes.

“You’re everything,” he whispered. “You calm the worst in me. You make me feel real. Not just the power. Not just the glow. Me.”

You kissed him, slow and deep, no hunger this time. Just connection.

When he finally pulled out, you whimpered softly at the loss and the warmth that followed.

He looked down and groaned at the sight of his cum trickling out of you.

“Jesus.”

His hands slid gently over your thighs, spreading you a little wider, and he stared like he was memorising you. Like the mess he’d made in you wasn’t something shameful—but sacred.

“You took me so well,” he whispered. “Let me make you messy. You were made for it.”

“Yeah?” You breathed, dazed and soft. “Feel full.”

“You are,” he said, reverent. “You’re perfect like this. My pretty girl. My good girl.”

You blushed under the praise, and his eyes went even softer.

“Come here.”

He pulled you into his arms, wrapping you tight against his chest as if shielding you from the universe itself. You curled into him, completely boneless, head against his collarbone. He was so warm. So big and so safe.

He reached for the blanket with one hand and drew it over both of you, tucking you in. His other hand found your belly, palm resting flat and protective.

“Still feel me in there?” he asked quietly.

You nodded, flushing again. “Mmhmm. All of you.”

A long silence.

Then—

“If it ever happens”, he said slowly, like he was afraid to even speak it aloud, “if you ever do end up pregnant... I’ll take care of you. I’ll protect you. Both of you. No matter what.”

You smiled against his skin. “I know.”

“I want it to be you,” he said. “No one else.”

You looked up at him and kissed his jaw.

“You already put your mark on me, Bob.”

He sighed with relief—and he tucked your head back under his chin.

“Then rest,” he murmured. “You’re mine now. And I’m not letting go.”

join my тαgℓιѕт

[misserabella]

bloody and needy

just thinking about spencer being the kind of MAN that doesn’t care about blood. you want period sex? you’ve got it. that’s it. that’s the prompt.

cw: +18, minors dni!, period sex, blood duh, spencer being a service king, praising, lots of pet names and dirty talk, breeding kink, overstimulation, creampie, allusion to a second round…

it’s all a blur. you don’t exactly remember how or when spencer took off your clothes, but you’re laying completely naked over a couple of towels on your shared bed as his large fingers pump into your squeezing cunt.

“fuck.” and you’re moaning, cause it feels so fucking good you want to cry. it’s been over a week since you two have had sex, since he’d been away for a case, and just when he was finally coming back home and you hoped you’d finally get some release, that time of the month tagged along. so there you were, horny, desperate, and bleeding. but your boyfriend doesn’t care about blood. ‘it’s natural.’ he’s told you before. ‘tell me what you need and i’ll give it to you.’

so here you were now, legs spread as he adds another finger, your own in his hair tugging at the feeling of him stretching you so nicely… spencer kissed and sucked at your neck, his cock throbbing at the sweet sounds you’re making and the squelches that come from your cunt as he pumps in and out.

“spencer…”

“god baby, you’re so pretty like this…” he muttered, needy to be inside but waiting for you to give him the go ahead. his hand is a mess of crimson but he pays no mind to it.

“need you.” you breathe out, your back arching as his lips latched to your nipples.

“yeah? you need me?” he lapped at one of them and you nodded, whimpering. “should i take my fingers out then?” you nodded once again, but still whined at the loss of pleasure. “i know, i know baby. so needy for me.” he was quick to make work of his clothes, throwing them aside with your own and positioning himself in between your legs.

your hips and legs trembled when the tip of his cock teased you, and his tongue wetted his lips at the sight of the face you made when it bumped against your clit. “so sensitive huh?” he smiled and you nodded, eyes hazy.

“feels so good…”

“im gonna make you feel better, angel.” he said as he pushed inside with one single thrust, what made you scream. “fuck. you’re so warm…” he gritted his teeth as he started to move, leaving kisses on your neck. “so wet for me. you feel like heaven, love. so good for me.” he praised as he fucked into you, your legs surrounding his hips and your nails digging on his back. “you needed this, hm? baby? you needed me to fuck you, huh? my poor pretty girl. i’ve always told you that you just need to ask and i’ll give you anything.” your cheeks blushed, and you whined. “see what being a good girl and speaking up gets you, baby?” he pecked your lips and you moaned at a partially harsher thrust. “like that?”

“harder.” you desperately asked and he complied, fucking into you at the same speed yet harsher. you couldn’t stop the moans and whimpers falling from your lips. “spence…”

“i know angel, you’re so sensitive, doing so good for me…” one of his hands found your clit, circling it. “you can cum, pretty girl.” you moaned, your back arching. it was almost too much, until the overstimulation faded and you were grinding against his touch and cock in a daze. “jesus. if you could see yourself right now baby, so fucking hot… gonna make me cum so hard…” you whimpered at the thought. “yeah? you want me to cum for you baby?” you nodded. “where?”

“inside. cum inside please.” you babbled, your whole body tensing at the approaching of your orgasm. spencer groaned.

“you want me to fill this pretty pussy? make a mess out of it?” you cried and hiccuped in answer, muttering a ‘yes’ that almost made him bust in the spot. “want me to get you round and pretty for me?”

“yes! please, spencer, please…!” you begged and he moaned.

“i’m gonna cum baby, gonna fill you up so much it’ll be dripping out of you for a week.” that made you unravel, the tight band in you stomach snapping as you screamed in release, moaning his name over and over. “fuck, angel, fuck.” he groaned as he felt you clench, and after three stuttering thrusts, he spilled everything inside of you, kissing you sloppily as he fucked the two of you through it.

after the two of you came down, he caressed your cheek. “you okay, baby?”

“more than okay.” you smiled, and he couldn’t help but do the same.

“i’m gonna go find something to clean us up, okay?”

yoy looked down to find his thighs and v line along with his lower stomach stained in your blood. it only made you throb and him hiss.

“or maybe not.” he replied as he felt you starting to rock your hips against his already hardening cock.

“maybe not.”

-

❤️🩸i’m on my period, SO WHAT

[lazy-ahh]

WHAT IF WE COULD REWRITE THE ENDING?

pairing phainon x gender neutral reader

after hundreds of cycles—lifetimes spent chasing each other through death and rebirth—you wake one night with the weight of every memory crashing down at once. the battles. the blood. the way phainon’s hands always found yours, even in the dark. you remember dying for him. you remember him dying for you. you remember the wheat fields, the promises, the way he kissed your forehead like a vow.

the nightmare clings to you like a second skin, stubborn and suffocating, even as you sit curled up on the bed, knees drawn to your chest like a shield. your fingers twist into the fabric of your sleeves, gripping tight enough to tremble—as if holding on any harder might erase the images burned behind your eyelids.

phainon is beside you, warm and solid, his presence a grounding force against the echoes of that dream. no, not a dream. a premonition? no, perhaps a memory. a warning.

the first time, it had been a titan’s attack on okhema—the sky screaming, the earth splitting open like a wound, fire painting the world in shades of ruin. you’d been helpless, scrambling through the chaos, your hands empty, your voice raw from shouting his name.

you remember looking for him, desperate to make sure he was safe. and before you knew it—phainon was there, shoving you aside with a force that sent you skidding across the rubble, just as a blade came down.

you’d crawled to him, your knees scraping against broken stone, your fingers trembling as they reached for him. his golden blood spilled between them, too bright, too much, but even then—even as his breath stuttered, as his body shuddered with the weight of dying—he smiled at you. soft, familiar, like he wasn’t lying in a pool of his own light, like he wasn’t slipping away right in front of you.

"don’t look like that, my love," he’d murmured, his voice fraying at the edges. his hand, slick with ichor, found yours anyway, squeezing weakly. "c’mon. you know i’d do it again. a thousand times."

you’d choked on a sob, pressing your forehead to his, your tears mixing with the blood on his skin. "you idiot," you’d whispered, your voice breaking. "you promised—you promised you wouldn’t leave me."

his laugh was a quiet, pained thing, but his thumb still brushed over your knuckles, tender as ever. "i’m not," he said. "i’ll always be here. just… look up at the stars for me, okay?"

and then—the light in his eyes flickered. faded. his hand went slack in yours.

you’d screamed—not a battle cry, but something raw and broken, the sound tearing from your throat like it could rewrite the past. you’d begged, hands pressing against phainon’s wound as if you could will the light back into him, as if love alone could stitch together what fate had unraveled.

you’d cursed the heavens, the titans, the cruel twist of destiny that dared to take him from you—but it didn’t matter. nothing did. not your tears, not your rage, not the way your voice cracked his name like a prayer gone unanswered.

and so you’d lunged forward, reckless and shattered, your body moving before your mind could catch up. the same steel that had stolen him found your chest, and the pain barely registered—because what was the point of a world without him in it? what was the point of breathing, of waking, of anything, if he wouldn’t be there to smile at you in that loud and bright way of his?

you hated the being that took him. you hated it more than you’d ever hated anything. but as your knees hit the ground beside phainon’s still form, as your vision blurred at the edges, you noticed something strange.

the figure in dark clothes—the one who had struck him down—was trembling. its weapon slipped from its grasp, clattering against the rubble. and in your hazy, fading sight, you could’ve sworn it reached for you, its fingers twitching like it wanted to stop your fall.

maybe it was regret. maybe it was pain. maybe it was just the delirium of dying. but in that final moment, as your blood mixed with phainon’s on the broken earth, you almost pitied it.

(and then—nothing.)

then you’d woken up—

small again, your hands tiny and unmarked by battle, your chest heaving with the ghost of a death that hadn’t happened yet. the weight of a future that no longer existed pressed down on you, suffocating, and before you could even think, you were running—bare feet pounding against familiar dirt paths, lungs burning as you raced toward the one place you knew he’d be.

the wheat fields. your wheat fields. his wheat fields. golden stalks swaying in the breeze, rustling like whispered secrets, like a promise neither of you had ever needed to speak aloud. and there he was—young, unharmed, bathed in the golden light of late afternoon, his back turned as he idly plucked a stalk between his fingers.

you didn’t hesitate. you never did. in every lifetime, in every cycle (why did you call them that? they were just dreams, just nightmares, just your mind playing cruel tricks—weren’t they?), you had done the same thing: you ran to him, crashed into him, buried your face in his chest as the tears came, hot and uncontrollable. his arms wrapped around you on instinct, steady even in his confusion, his voice soft as he murmured, "hey, hey—what’s wrong? did something happen?"

you didn’t answer. you couldn’t. not when the memory of his blood on your hands was still so fresh, not when the echo of his last smile still burned behind your eyelids. instead, you clung tighter, fingers fisting in his shirt like he might vanish if you let go.

this time, you swore it would be different.

you trained. you fought. you stood beside him, matching his steps, your movements syncing with his like you were two halves of the same soul. you were determined—no, you were desperate—to rewrite fate, to carve a path where he would live, where he would shine as brightly as he was meant to.

and when the moment came, when the titan’s madness descended on the holy city and the figure in dark clothes emerged from the chaos, you didn’t falter. you shoved him aside, took the blow meant for him, felt the steel pierce through your ribs with a terrible, icy clarity.

it was worth it. it had to be. he had so much to live for—not just as a hero, not just as a savior, but as phainon, as the boy who laughed with his whole body, who picked flowers for you just because, who held your hand like it was the most precious thing in the world. he was your star, your world, your salvation, but more than that—he was yours, in every way that mattered.

until you saw his face.

his expression shattered, his hands trembling as they cradled you, his voice breaking as he whispered your name like a prayer, like a plea, like if he said it enough times, the universe might listen.

the last thing you saw was the blade plunging through him too, his body erupting into flames, gold and furious, his form twisting into something divine, something other. the sky split open with his grief, the very air burning with his wrath as amphoreus crumbled beneath it.

you shouldn’t have been able to see it. your eyes had already closed, your breath already stilled. and yet—there it was. the destruction, the despair, the way his face crumpled as the flames consumed him.

(phainon? no—that wasn’t right. you had called him something else, once. at the start. something beautiful, something you had carved into your soul. it started with... what letter? your mind grasped at the memory, but it slipped through your fingers like smoke.)

you thought he was beautiful. perfect. divine.

your hand twitched, reaching for him, willing him to turn, to look at you one last time. fingers trembling, stretching through the empty space between life and whatever came after, desperate to brush against him one last time.

if you could just touch him, just say his name (his real name, the one that danced on the tip of your tongue but slipped away like water through your fingers), maybe the universe would pause. maybe it would listen. maybe it would let you rewrite this ending, just once.

but the darkness swallowed you whole before your voice could find him.

and there you were.

again.

always.

back in the wheat fields, the golden stalks swaying around you like they were laughing at your futile hope. the sun warm on your skin, the breeze soft against your cheeks—a cruel mockery of peace when your heart still remembered the weight of dying in his arms.

you repeated what you’d done before.

(you would do it forever, if you had to.)

this time, you were even more determined. you would train harder, fight smarter, love fiercer. you would carve a path to a future where the two of you lived—really lived. where you grew old together, where his laughter lines deepened and your hair turned silver and the years stretched before you like an unbroken promise.

but the universe was a merciless thing.

no matter how many times you tried, no matter how many cycles you endured, the ending never changed. one of you always fell, and the other would follow without hesitation—because how could you not?

how could either of you breathe in a world that kept stealing the other away? every inhale would taste like ash, every exhale a betrayal. you were two halves of the same heartbeat, stitched together across lifetimes by something deeper than fate—by choice, by desperate, stubborn love that even death couldn't untangle.

you remember those darker cycles. the ones where fate grew teeth and took him too soon, leaving you hollowed-out and bleeding under indifferent stars. some nights you'd lasted weeks, months, trying to honor what he'd sacrificed for you. others—when the grief carved you open raw—you'd pressed a blade to your own throat before his blood had even dried on your hands. it wasn't surrender. it was following him home.

because living without him wasn't living at all. just slow suffocation in a world drained of color and warmth.

(you died for him. he died for you. the details blurred, but the pain never faded.)

and yet—

you still woke up in the wheat fields.

you still ran to him.

you still loved him, even when you knew how it would end.

because if there was even the slightest chance, the tiniest glimmer of hope that this time would be different—

you would take it.

you would take it a thousand times over.

but you curse this weak and pathetic body of yours.

flawed. fragile. human—nothing like phainon, who was born to shine, born to fight, born to stand tall where others would crumble. after hundreds of cycles, the weight of countless lifetimes pressed down on you like a stone, each death leaving invisible cracks in your bones, each rebirth carving the memories deeper into your skin.

you didn’t mind the pain—you would endure it forever if it meant even a chance to save him—but your body was starting to.

the headaches came first, sharp and sudden, like knives behind your eyes. then the tremors in your hands, the way your vision blurred at the edges when you pushed yourself too hard.

you ignored it all, clenched your teeth and carried on, because what did it matter if your body broke, if your mind frayed? as long as he lived, as long as he smiled—

but someone noticed.

of course he did.

in this cycle—the last one, though you didn’t know it yet, you think it was the last one—the day you both died again, you don’t remember the details. the battle, the blood, the way the sky burned. all you remember is him.

phainon.

no.

khaslana.

cradling your face in his hands, his palms warm against your skin despite the blood staining them—his, yours, it didn’t matter anymore. his thumbs brushed away tears you hadn’t realized you’d shed, movements achingly gentle, as if you were something precious, something fragile.

his smile was soft, unbearably tender, the kind that had always made your chest ache, even now, even here, at the end of everything. but his eyes—oh, his eyes. gold like the last light of a dying star, shimmering with unshed tears, darkened by a sorrow so deep it threatened to swallow you both whole.

"my dawnlight," he murmured, his voice like a prayer, like a requiem, like the last note of a song only the two of you knew. it cracked on the edges, raw with guilt, with grief, with a love so vast it hurt to witness. "how did i not see it sooner?"

his forehead pressed against yours, his breath shuddering against your lips. "you’ve been carrying this weight alone all this time. all these cycles, all these deaths—and i never noticed. i never knew. i thought i was the only one who carried this burden..."

his fingers trembled against your cheeks, his usual composure shattered, and for the first time in all the lifetimes you’d endured, he looked lost. not as khaslana, not as phainon, or the deliverer, but as him—just a man who loved you too much, a man you loved too much, who realized too late what it had cost you.

"i’m sorry," he whispered, and it wasn’t enough. it would never be enough. but he said it anyway, because it was all he had left to give.

you wanted to tell him it was okay. that you would do it again, a thousand times over, if it meant sparing him even a second of pain. but the words wouldn’t come—your body was too tired, your soul too worn.

he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, his lips warm against your skin. "let me bear it for you this time," he whispered. "you’ve suffered enough."

and then—

the world went dark.

but for the first time in hundreds of cycles, it didn’t feel like an ending.

it felt like a promise.

that was when you woke up.

but you can still feel it—the phantom pain of a blade through your chest, the way your breath had stuttered, wet and ragged. the weight of phainon’s scream as he held you, his tears falling onto your cheeks like rain.

the way the world had burned when he unleashed that terrible, beautiful power, the heavens themselves weeping embers as the planet crumbled beneath his despair. it had been almost poetic, in the cruelest way: the deliverer, brought to his knees by love.

you can still feel the ghost of his lips (what was his name again?) lingering on your forehead like a fading star's kiss before everything slipped away. wait... forget? did you... forget something important? the thought claws at your chest, making your breath hitch sharp and uneven—until phainon's hand finds yours, his fingers slotting between yours like they were made to fit there. his thumb brushes over your knuckles in slow, soothing circles, warm and alive and so wonderfully present.

"hey," he murmurs, voice dipping into that soft tone reserved only for you. his free hand comes up to cradle your face, calloused fingers tracing the curve of your cheekbone with reverence. "where'd you go just now, dawnlight? you were making this face—" he pouts exaggeratedly, wrinkling his nose in a terrible impression of your worried expression that's so absurd it coaxes a weak laugh from you despite the lingering dread.

"just... a nightmare," you admit, leaning into his touch. his palm cups your jaw like you're something precious, his thumb swiping gently under your eye as if checking for tears.

phainon makes a wounded noise in the back of his throat, pulling you against his chest with dramatic flair. "a nightmare? and you didn't wake me immediately? cruel, beloved, truly cruel—"

his arms tighten around you, his voice dropping into theatrical despair even as he presses a dozen quick kisses to your hairline, your temple, the tip of your nose when you squirm. "what if it had been about me tripping over my own cape again? or worse—losing to you at cards? these are tragedies that require my immediate comforting presence!"

you snort, shoving at his shoulder halfheartedly. "it was you dying, actually," you mumble into his collarbone, and feel him go still.

for a heartbeat, there's silence. then—

"ah," he says softly, all the playful lilt gone from his voice. when he pulls back to look at you, his blue eyes are unbearably tender. "well. that won't happen." he says it like a promise, like a vow, like the simplest truth in the universe.

"you don't know that," you protest weakly.

phainon grins, sudden and bright, pressing his forehead to yours. "i do, actually. because i'd burn the whole world down before i let anything take me from you." he says it so cheerfully, so matter-of-factly, that you can't help but laugh even as your chest aches. "and besides—" he adds, nipping playfully at your earlobe, "who else would remind you to eat? or remind you to tuck your elbows when you swing your sword? or—mmph!"

you shut him up the best way you know how—by kissing that infuriating, wonderful mouth. phainon makes a soft, pleased sound against your lips, something between a sigh and a laugh, his hands coming up to frame your face like you're his entire world.

his thumbs brush along your cheekbones, reverent and tender, and when you pull away just enough to breathe, he chases your lips for one more fleeting press of his own. maybe you are his world. maybe he's yours, too. the thought settles warm in your chest, familiar as sunlight.

and as the two of you lay tangled together in bed, your head pillowed on his chest, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear, the silence between you is comfortable.

his fingers trace absent patterns along your arm, sometimes pausing to brush against your wrist where your pulse flutters beneath his touch before continuing their lazy journey. it's peaceful. it's perfect. but there's something nagging at you, something you need to ask even if you're afraid of the answer.

"phainon?"

he hums in response, the sound vibrating through his chest and into yours—low, content, a little sleepy. but when he speaks, his voice is as warm as always, lilting with that ever-present affection that never seems to fade, no matter how tired he is. "yes, dawnlight?"

you hesitate, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. "if... if we were ever stuck in a cycle," you begin slowly, "if we kept reliving the same pain over and over... would you try to take all of it on yourself? so i wouldn't have to remember?"

the fingers in your hair still. for a moment, there's only the sound of his breathing, steady and sure. then—"yes," he says, simple as that, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. his hand slides down to cradle the back of your head, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. his eyes are mix of blue and silver in the dim light, soft and fierce all at once.

"i would take every burden, every memory, every second of pain if it meant you never had to suffer again." his thumb traces the curve of your cheek, his voice dropping to something unbearably tender. "i would rewrite the stars themselves if it meant you could wake up without that weight on your shoulders. i would do it a thousand times. gladly."

your breath catches. "even if it hurt you?"

phainon smiles, small and sweet and devastating. a memory flashes in your mind, with someone looking at you exactly the same way. but who was it?

"especially if it hurt me," he murmurs, voice honey-thick with devotion. "because your happiness is worth any price, my love. don't you know that by now?" his lips brush your forehead in a lingering kiss that burns hotter than any chrysos flame, sealing the promise into your skin. "everything i do is for you. always. and it seems i haven't been doing my job properly for you to have to ask me that."

you groan the second you see his expression—that stupid, beautiful face all scrunched up in self-reproach, lips forming an exaggerated pout, blue eyes shimmering with dramatic remorse like some tragic stage actor. "oh come on, not the kicked-puppy look—"

phainon doesn't let you finish.

one moment you're eye-rolling at his theatrics, the next his mouth crashes into yours with startling fervor, his hands cradling your face like you're made of starlight.

his lips move against yours with desperate sweetness, all earlier playfulness vanished into something far more intense. you gasp against his mouth, and he takes advantage instantly, tongue sliding against yours in a way that makes your toes curl.

then—with terrifying ease—he flips you both. the world tilts, sheets rucking up beneath you as phainon settles between your thighs, one broad hand braced beside your head while the other slides down to grip your waist. his breathing comes ragged when he pulls back just enough to speak, lips brushing yours with every word.

"let me remind you," he whispers, voice gone dark and velvety. "let me show you exactly how far i'd go for you, my love."

his mouth finds yours again, hotter this time, hungrier. he kisses you like he's drowning and you're air, like every worshipful press of his lips could rewrite the universe.

when his teeth graze your bottom lip, you whimper—and the sound wrenches a broken noise from his throat, something between a groan and a prayer.

"tell me," he breathes against the corner of your mouth, trailing kisses along your jaw. his hand slips beneath your shirt, palm scorching against your hip. "tell me you know. tell me you feel how much—" a nip at your earlobe that makes you jerk, "—how completely—" his tongue swipes over the spot, soothing, "—i am yours."

his hips roll against yours in a slow, devastating grind, and you arch with a gasp. "phai—!"

"am i doing good?" he murmurs, all faux innocence even as he mouths down your throat, teeth scraping lightly over your pulse. "tell me, dawnlight. tell me what you need."

you barely recognize your own voice when you choke out, "more—"

phainon makes a wrecked, approving sound against your skin. "anything," he vows. "everything."

and then he's kissing you again, deeper, messier, his hands mapping every inch of you like he's trying to memorize you by touch alone. when you finally drag your fingers through his hair and tug, he actually whimpers—this gorgeous, breathy little thing that goes straight to your core—and you think faintly that you might actually die if he stops.

(luckily, he doesn't seem inclined to stop. ever.)

so. this was supposed to be a quick little idea. just a small, self-indulgent thing about phainon being painfully in love with reader. but then my brain went "what if we made it tragic?" and suddenly i'm staring at a 3.7k word doc like... where did this come from?? listen, i KNOW this probably isn't lore-accurate at all—i haven't even finished amphoreus yet (i keep trying to stall myself from progressing through the main story quest because i heard it is TRAGIC). most of this is just me piecing together clips, vibes, and whatever my brain cooked up at 12 AM. but sometimes you just gotta say "screw it" and write about your blorbo kissing their beloved like the world's ending, you know? also. the ending. no regrets. zero. i was fully in my feels when i wrote that last scene, half-sobbing into my hands while also giggling and kicking my feet. that's just what phainon does to me! one minute i'm weeping over his tragic backstory, the next i'm [redacted] over his stupidly perfect hands. there is no in-between. this was 1000% self-indulgent and i make no apologies. if you made it this far, thank you for humoring me! hope you enjoyed these two idiots being disgustingly in love (and maybe got a little emotional too) <3

[prentitsluvr]

She Tastes Like Heaven

Emily Prentiss x Reader Warnings: Smut, fingering, mommy kink, oral sex (r receiving) Summary: Emily calls reader into her office after everyone else has gone home Word count: 963

Your pussy throbbed as you watched Emily in her office, leaning her head back and stretching. Your eyes trailed down her neck, mind drifting to an image of you pressing your lips against the soft skin, leaving a trail of marks downwards…

“Y/N,” her voice snapped you out of your reverie. You hadn’t noticed her leaving her office. “My office. Now.”

Shit, she sounds pissed.

Sighing, you stood. It was late, and really you should’ve gone home already, and the only people still there were you, Emily and JJ, who had said she was about to leave anyway. You passed the empty desks as you walked up to Emily’s office, knocking softly on the door.

“You wanted to see me?”

“Close the door, please.” she said, drawing the blinds. Shit, you must really be in trouble.

Closing the door, you tilted your head. “Is something wrong?”

“Not wrong, no.” she smirked, sauntering over to you. Your heart hammers in your chest.

“What did you–”

“I saw you staring at me. Licking your lips. Biting them.” she murmured, brushing your hair behind your ear as she leaned in, lips brushing your ear gently. “Do you want me?”

Mouth suddenly dry, you nodded, “Yes.”

“Good.” she smiled softly, her hand trailing down your arm until it enclosed around your wrist, and she pulled you over to her desk – which conveniently was free of all the papers you’d seen there earlier that day.

Wordlessly, she pushed you so that you sat on the edge of the desk, and her hands rested either side of you as she leaned in. 

“You’re so pretty… I can’t wait to feel you squirming beneath me.” she muttered, and you let out a quiet, involuntary moan.

“Do you like that, pretty girl?” she teased, and you gripped one of her wrists, gazing into her eyes.

“Please.”

“Please what, baby?”

“Kiss me. Touch me. Anything.”

Now with your permission, her lips were quick to attach to yours, and her hand snaked around to the small of your back, slipping under your shirt and splaying across your skin.

Desperate for more of her touch, you broke the kiss and pulled your shirt off, tugging her closer, and you went to unbutton her shirt.

“Uh-uh.” Emily smirked, holding your wrists as she took in your pouting expression, amused. “Not yet, babygirl. Later. Right now, I wanna make you feel good.”

Letting out a soft whimper, you pulled her in for another kiss. Her hand palmed your breast, squeezing gently, making you moan into her mouth.

“Please.” you whined. “Please fuck me.”

Emily let out a soft hum of approval, and kissed down your neck as her hands reached around to unclip your bra.

“If you insist.”

Her lips wrapped around a nipple, and your head dropped back as you bit your lip, trying as hard as you could not to be loud. As she licked and sucked your nipple, her hands worked to unzip your pants and you helped her by lifting your hips so she could slide them down, along with your panties.

She groaned as she slipped a hand between your thighs, pressing her palm into you.

“Fuck…you’re so wet for me, you’re practically dripping.”

Her fingers glided through your arousal and you let out a strangled moan.

“Lie back, pretty girl. Let mommy take care of you.”

The use of the word mommy completely short wired your brain. Laying back, you opened your eyes to look at her, and she grinned up at you as she tugged on your legs gently, pulling you towards her.

“Such a pretty young thing.” she cooed as she spread your legs – and then she leaned in and her lips were wrapping around your clit and it took everything in you not to scream. Emily dragged her tongue through you, moaning and murmuring something about how good you taste.

“In-inside, please.” you begged, and she chuckled softly, flicking your clit with her tongue as she sunk two fingers into your pussy. 

“S’that what you wanted, princess?” 

“God – fuck – yes,” you moaned as she started thrusting her fingers in and out. Soft, wet noises filled the room as you bit your lip hard, and she circled your clit with her tongue.

“You gonna cum for me princess? Gonna cum for mommy?”

“So close mommy.” you whimpered, your hand reaching down to grasp her hair and pull her further into you. She let out a small groan at the noise and that was enough to push you over the edge.

“Fuck – mommy – I’m gonna–” 

Spasms shook your body as you threw your head back, arching your back and pulling her face further into your pussy as you came around her fingers, letting out a strangled moan.

“God, you taste divine.” she murmured as she cleaned up your pussy, dragging her tongue through your folds. You relaxed your grasp on her hair and she grabbed your hand, pulling you up and kissing you softly.

“I wanna take you home with me tonight, is that okay baby?” she asked, and you nodded, kissing her again.

“Please.” you bit your lip. “I need to make you cum too.”

Emily bit back a moan, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. She took a breath and grabbed your clothes, helping you get them back on.

“My work is all wrapped up. Head down to my car and I’ll meet you there in a few minutes.” she instructs, running her fingers – not the ones that were just inside of you – through your hair, smoothing it out.

Heart racing, you kissed her again and left, hoping you didn’t look like you’d just been fucked.

You didn’t catch JJ’s small smirk from the other side of the room as she watched you hurry away.

[formulafanfics13]

F1 Tongue Game Power Rankings

💦 GOD-TIER (9.5–10/10)

These men treat your pussy like a sacred text. They will read it cover to cover, highlight sections, and write essays. They want you to cry. They want you to beg them to stop. They never do.

Daniel Ricciardo

Unhinged Australian oral menace.

Eye contact. Dirty talk. Moans while he does it.

Has a routine that ends with you twitching. Makes you cum, then does it again for fun.

“Look at me while you fall apart, baby.” Score: 10/10

Carlos Sainz

Spanish worshipper.

Slow, sensual, uses his fingers like a symphony conductor. Will edge you for 20 minutes just to hear your voice break.

Kisses your thighs and says “I want to feel everything.”

“You’re shaking. Don’t hide it.” Score: 10/10

Pierre Gasly

Filthy. Efficient. Relentless.

You will sit on his face and he will smile. Breath control kink. Finger game matched.

Will say “I don’t care if I suffocate, keep going.” and mean it. Score: 10/10

Lewis Hamilton

Tantric god of tongue.

He doesn’t lick. He worships. Uses breath, vibration, intention.

Oral becomes a spiritual experience. You will sob and levitate.

“This body was made for pleasure. Let me prove it.” Score: 9.8/10

Fernando Alonso

Daddy devourer.

Rougher, primal. Grips your thighs. Groans into you. You’ll cum fast and violently.

Might slap your clit with his tongue and grin when you whimper.

“More. Give me everything.” Score: 9.7/10

Sebastian Vettel

Forest fairy oral specialist.

Slow, focused, emotionally devastating. Says things like “you deserve to be adored.”

You’ll cum, cry, and thank him. He’ll ask if you want a cup of tea after. Score: 9.5/10

😈 DANGEROUSLY SKILLED (8–9.4/10)

These men are incredible, but they’re doing it with a specific purpose — to ruin you emotionally or to make you addicted. They train for this.

Oscar Piastri

Silent menace.

No warning. No mercy. Pulls your legs apart and goes to town.

Keeps a steady rhythm. Uses fingers expertly. Will tease you until your vision blurs. Score: 9/10

George Russell

Precision operator.

Wants feedback. Tracks your breathing. Will not stop until you scream his name.

Filthy tongue. Loves praise. Will hum into your clit if you moan the right way. Score: 8.8/10

Jack Doohan

Rookie freak.

Obsessed with making you cum. Obsessed with your reaction. Talks shit in between licks.

“You taste like heaven. Say it. Say I’m the best.” Score: 8.7/10

Pato O’Ward

Hyperfixated flirt.

Doesn’t take breaks. Fast tongue. Big smile. Leaves hickeys on your inner thighs.

Sticks his fingers in with zero warning and makes you forget your name. Score: 8.6/10

Valtteri Bottas

Silent. Devoted. Godly.

You won’t see it coming. He’ll just lift your hips and begin.

Methodical. Perfect pacing. Doesn’t care if he cums — just wants to ruin you. Score: 8.5/10

Paul Aron

Pretty face, filthy mouth.

Sweet eyes while sucking your soul out.

Whispers filth in Estonian. Smiles when you whimper. Score: 8.3/10

🧠 SWEET, LEARNING, SURPRISINGLY GOOD (7–8/10)

These are the men you don’t expect to blow your mind. But they do. They’re obsessed with improvement. They will watch you carefully. They want to impress.

Mick Schumacher

Soft, slow, loving.

Worships every part of you. Learns your body like scripture.

The first time, he’s nervous. By the third, he’s a pro. Score: 7.9/10

Logan Sargeant

Frat boy technique, golden retriever effort.

A little messy, a little fast, but it fucking works.

Will high-five himself when you cum. Score: 7.8/10

Arthur Leclerc

Blushy and eager.

Cums in his pants when you pull his hair while he’s down there.

Gets the job done. Comes back for seconds. Score: 7.6/10

Lando Norris

Loves when you moan.

Still learning. Sometimes too gentle. But when you guide him? Perfect.

Big eyes. Filthy tongue when he’s confident. Score: 7.5/10

Isack Hadjar

Chaos tongue.

No rhythm, just vibes. But somehow it works. Makes you squirt by accident. Score: 7.4/10

😳 THE SECRET KILLERS (Above 8 but they’ll never admit it):

Toto Wolff

Worship. Full-body reverence.

Gets on his knees and means it. Grown man with decades of experience. Grips your thighs and growls.

“Let me taste what’s mine.” Score: 9.9/10

Fred Vasseur

Cigarette and cunnilingus king.

Doesn’t smile. Doesn’t talk. Just makes you cum and walks away. Score: 8.4/10

Andrea Stella

Italian oral dom.

Fingertips on your hipbones. Tongue slow and deliberate. Says “bella” when you break. Score: 8.2/10

Jonathan Wheatley

You’ll cry. He’ll hold you down while he finishes the job. Score: 9.2/10

[spiderb00bs]

- DAMN RIGHT

Jenna Ortega x Reader

"Jenna just wanted you to beg for her"

Genre - smut 18+ MDNI Warning - strap referred to as your dick

Now Playing - Dawn Right, by JENNIE ft. Childish Gambino & Kali Uchis

"Let me do my thing, make you hear the angels sing"

“baby, please…” You begged, swallowing as you felt the sweat dripping down your forehead.

Jenna's hands were running through your muscles, it was almost as if she was trying to map your entire body. Your hands were raised above your head, tied to the headboard of the bed - with the tie you had worn earlier that night - that you shared with your girlfriend. Jenna ran her nails down your biceps, down until her hands were on your breasts.

When you received an invitation from your girlfriend to accompany her to the screening of her new movie, you imagined that the evening would be a bang, but not in this sense. You weren't complaining, of course not. You didn't complain when Jenna started caressing your thigh in the middle of the movie, you didn't complain when Jenna pulled you into the car as quickly as possible, and you certainly didn't complain when she got on top of you.

But you knew your girlfriend better than anyone, you knew she had a real thing for making you beg, and of course she was going to make you get on your knees for her tonight. The leather of the strap rubbed perfectly against your clit, and every time the brunette rolled on top of you, you felt yourself getting closer and closer to cumming. But it would never be enough.

You wanted it all.

“Please what, baby? Let me hear you…” The smile on your girlfriend's face made you whimper, you knew she was going to make you suffer in the most pleasurable way possible.

But Jenna's hands caressed your breasts, teasing the nipples from time to time. The smile on her lips was beautiful, and for a moment all you could think about was how that woman had you in the palm of her hand.

“Baby, let me touch you! Please!” You begged, pulling at the restraints, making red marks start to appear on your wrists.

Laughing at your desperation, Jenna moved her hips harder, making you moan. “Do you want to touch me, mi amor?”

“Fuck, yes!” you gasped. Jenna leaned in and captured your lips in a lust-filled kiss.

The feel of Jenna's hips rolling on top of you, along with the feel of her hands caressing your tits made you feel like you were in heaven. Her lips were soft as a cloud and you couldn't even feel her untying you. When she pulled away from the kiss, a thread of saliva left the two of you connected, breaking only when Jenna smiled proudly at you.

“Do your best, baby.”

Realizing that you were finally free of your bonds, you quickly grabbed your girlfriend's waist. Your arms lifted the woman slightly off you, without taking your cock out of her, only for you to slam into her all the way back. Jenna opened her mouth in a silent moan, lying on your shoulder and scratching your back as if her life depended on it.

“Fuck baby! So deep, I can feel you so deep inside me!” Hearing that made your ears perk up, causing you to start pounding into your girlfriend at an unbelievable pace.

The muscles in your abs ached, your arms ached from holding Jenna for so long, and your back ached from the scratches - which probably oozed blood - that your girlfriend was making on your back. The material of the strap stimulated your clit perfectly, and you moaned along with your girlfriend.

“Baby, I'm gonna cum!” You said, holding Jenna tighter in your arms, hugging her small body as you tried not to stop the movements with exhaustion.

“Me too baby!” Taking her head off your shoulder, the woman looked into your eyes, lifting her hand and brushing your hair out of your eyes. Her eyes were mesmerizing, and tears - probably from the stimulation - began to well up in them.

“Fuck!” Going faster and harder, you and Jenna screamed together, thanking the gods that you had your own house, where no one would complain about the noise.

Jenna's body began to spasm, as did yours. You could feel your orgasm leaking into the leather of the girdle, while you could see your girlfriend's juices pooling around the strap.

Lying on the bed, with the woman still on top of you, you let Jenna breathe, nestling into your chest. Kissing the top of her head, you stroked the brunette's hair, making her relax completely - although some spasms were still present.

“I'm so proud of you, my star.”

“I love you!”

“I love you more, Jenna.”

Hello everyone. I'm just posting this 'cause after the exams I had a severe creative block. I'm still recovering, but I wrote this with the help of my obsessions.

Jenna and Jennie.

Jenna is looking amazing at the premieres of her new movie, and Jennie just released one of the best albums I've heard this year. So why not put the two of them together and make something for you?!

Anyway, that's it. Drink water and stay safe

xoxo, spider.

[multi-fandom-imagine]

𝗦𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗕𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿 || 𝗜𝗮𝗻 𝗠𝗰𝗞𝗶𝗻𝗹𝗲𝘆 ||

A/n: Au where Ian never road the coster because his preppy girlfriend fucks him. Also I could have sworn he had tattoos , i haven't seen this movie in a while

For my dear friend @sacredwarrior88 , ily and hope you like it

The hallway echoed with distant laughter and excited footsteps. The group was off to ride the park’s infamous coaster Devil's Flight— a monstrous thing twisting above the lights like a steel skeleton. But you didn’t care.

No.

You only cared about the boy behind you, his dark hoodie half-zipped, combat boots scuffing the carpet as he shut the hotel room door with a dull thunk.

“I still don’t get it,” Ian muttered, voice low, gravelly. “You seriously dragged me back here just to not ride the coaster?” A bored tone to his voice as he shoved his hands into his pocket.

You turned slowly, your pale pink sundress slipping off your shoulder, lip gloss shining in the dim hotel light. You smiled.

A slow a dangerous smile.

“I dragged you back here because I didn’t want to scream on a roller coaster tonight,” you said sweetly, backing toward the bed. “I wanted to scream under you.”

His eyes darkened instantly.

“You’re such a fucking tease,” he rasped, striding toward you like a storm. “You know what that dress does to me.”

"It's why I wore it." A little giggle escaped your lips as you tilted your head to the side as you dropped onto the mattress, legs spread just enough to make his breath hitch. You weren’t wearing panties. He noticed.

“Oh, fuck me,” Ian muttered, kneeling on the bed as his hands slid up your thighs, rings cold against your skin.

“That’s the plan,” you whispered, curling your fingers in his shirt and yanking him down into a kiss.

It was messy — all tongue, teeth, and heat, your gloss smearing between you. He groaned as you tugged at his hoodie, pulling it off to reveal inked skin and muscle beneath. You kissed your way down his neck, licking the pulse just to feel it quicken.

He shoved your dress up over your hips, eyes fixed on your soaked cunt.

“Already dripping?” he growled, dragging two ringed fingers through your folds. “Damn, baby…”

You whimpered as he pressed his fingers inside you, curling them perfectly — the heel of his palm rubbing your clit while you bucked against him. But it wasn’t enough. Not tonight.

“Need your cock,” you gasped, grinding into his hand. “Please, Ian…”

"You're so fucking needy."He was already unzipping his jeans, pulling his cock free — thick, hard, and leaking at the tip. You reached down to stroke him, loving the way his breath caught in his throat when you teased your thumb over the head.

“You sure you don’t want to ride a coaster?” he teased, smirking.

“I am riding something,” you whispered, guiding him to your entrance and rolling your hips forward.

The moan that tore from his throat as he sank inside you was filthy. You were tight, wet, clenching around him so perfectly that he had to pause, arms shaking with restraint.

“Fuck,” he muttered, forehead resting against yours. “You feel like heaven…”

He started to move — slow at first, dragging his cock almost all the way out before slamming back in. You gasped, nails raking down his back.

“Harder,” you begged. “Please—fuck me like you mean it.”

He obliged. Ian grabbed your hips and began pounding into you, every stroke making your breasts bounce, your cries growing louder as the headboard tapped rhythmically against the wall. His name spilled from your lips like a prayer.

“God, you take me so good,” he growled. “My perfect, filthy little prep…”

Your orgasm built fast — that sweet, tightening spiral in your belly until you were clenching around him, legs trembling, voice cracking.

“Ian—I’m gonna—fuck—Ian!”

You came with a cry, arching under him, pulsing around his cock. He barely lasted a moment longer, groaning deep as he buried himself to the hilt and filled you with thick, hot cum.

The room went quiet, save for your breathing and the far-off sound of park fireworks.

You stroked his hair gently as he collapsed beside you, still inside, his hand resting over your belly like he never wanted to leave.

He chuckled softly, breathless. “Best decision you ever made was skipping that coaster.”

"Hmm...I love my cute little goth boyfriend." You muttered ranking your fingers through his dark hair as Ian let out a snort.

"And I love you, my preppy, pain in the ass girlfriend.."Ian's voice softened for a moment as he pressed a kiss to your temple. "That somehow managed to choose me between anyone else."

[boypied]

CALL ME DADDY.

pairings: eric dane x male reader

summary: Eric comes back from his daily job to find his slightly younger boyfriend jerking off to his mc streamy scene, Eric wants to recreate it for him.

requested by: mailmango

warnings: SMUT, anal sex, musk kink, shower sex, swearing, armpit kink, body worship, masturbation.

Eric had been at the gym for hours. With all the new movies he's been working on, they have been in demand that he stays in great shape. Even at fifty-one, his build is almost the same as when he was on Greys Anatomy. He's just slightly thicker, which he didn't mind he almost preferred it. Eric always made sure to work his arms the most cause he knew how much you loved it when he flexed and his biceps would perk up, Eric also always made sure to never shower at the gym cause he knew how much you loved how sweaty he was and you always got so turned on by his musky scent, something about it just made you become an absolute animal that just wanted to pounce on him. Eric stayed at the gym for two and a half hours to make sure he could be as sweaty as possible by the time he made it home to you. He got in his car, his pit stains soaked in his shirt, and the scent on him could be smelt from miles away, yet it wasn't a gross smell it was somehow delicious in a way.

You pull out your phone and search up the iconic mc'steamy scene from Greys Anatomy. Something about that scene made you want to ride your boyfriend Eric into the sunset. It was over twenty years ago, and yet he still looked as good now as he does in that video. You grope your cock watching him walk out the shower on repeat, the gif causes your cock to leak pre-cum like a fountain, you find a pair of his yesterday gym underwear that still had the potent musk scent that made you so feral for him. You bring it up to your nose, breathing in the scent, your eyes roll back smelling his musk. "fuck" you mumble under your breath as you begin to slowly push his sweaty underwear into your mouth tasting the salty and savoury taste of it. Feeling the musky fabric in your mouth is driving you crazy but what's driving you over the edge is the Eric Dane shower gif that's on repeat right in front of you, you wrap your hands around the cock and begin jerking it, wanting him, needing him NOW.

Eric stumbled his way into the house, placing his gym bag on the floor and slowly creeping his way upstairs, hoping not to wake you. He peaks into your shared bedroom through the slightly opened door, his eyes widen and his cock hardens at what he's just witnessed the love of his life jerking off to shower scene of his on Greys Anatomy. Your sultry moans echoes throughout the room as the steamy shower scene plays on repeat over and over, pre-cum leaks all down your hand dripping down onto the floor "f-fuck" you mumble under your breath as you begin to jerk yourself faster and faster until Eric storms his way in causing you to jump out of your skin "AHH!" You scream.

Eric's laugh echoes throughout the bedroom as he slowly makes his way closer to your naked body, "someone's enjoying my work, aren't they" he mutters out seductively as he stops beside you and runs his thumb across your bottom lip. You bite your lip ever so slightly as you take in his musky smell, his pit stains are calling to you, begging to have your face in them. "fuck." You whisper under your breath before Eric scoops you up and throws you over his shoulder, slapping your ass for the fun of it. He gently pushes the bathroom door open and puts you down. You stare at him, confused. "I'm gonna make your fantasies become a reality," he winks at you as he begins to undress himself. Once he's finally naked, he picks up he musky underwear and begins to gently feed it into your mouth. Your eyes flutter back as if you are in heaven tasting the saltiness of his gym balls and sweat.

Eric grips the back of your head and lifts up his arm, revealing his hairy pits. He gently pushes your face into his pits, letting the musky scent consume your nose. You keep his underwear in your mouth out of pure pleasure and to add to it your breathing in his sweaty pits, you gently pull the underwear out of your mouth and you begin to lap up his stinky pits "right there baby, good boy" he whispers sweet nothings in your ear. "Keep lapping it up" Eric throws his head back as he feels your tongue slurp up the sweat from his hairy pits, he gently pulls your head back and pecks your lips "shower" he commands gently spanking your ass as your climb in. He turns the shower on and steps inside with you. You wrap your arms around his neck as the warm water hits both your bodies, coating you in its warmth.

You begin to lather up some soap in your hand and rub it all over his chest, feeling him flex his chest beneath your touch. He turns you over and pushes you against the wall. He swats his hand across both cheeks, Eric continues spanking you until your cheeks are red raw. "f-fuck!" You whimper out, feeling the stinging sensation on your ass, Once he's finally done spanking you and many sultry moans later, you turn yourself over and begin to play with his abs and pecs "fuck someone's been working out" you say jokingly causing him to let out a laugh. You lean closer to his pecs, and you graze your face across his pecs, placing kisses all over, "You've done it now." Eric groans out.

He lifts you up and wraps your legs around his waist. He stumbles forward, pushing your back against the wall, and his tongue attacks your mouth for dominance. He immediately wins that battle. The warm spray of water hits Eric's toned muscular back. With one hand, he holds you up to keep you stable and with another hand he lines his cock up with your tight pucker thrusting his hips up, his cock pushes past the tight ring and immediately hits your sweet spot sending you into a frenzy of orgasmic pleasure, "don't cum yet baby, we've just started" Eric whispers into your ear as he begins to buck his hips up into you.

Eric's hand grips onto your throat and tightens around your neck. Your eyes flutter back from pure bliss. "Fucking slut" he groans out as his thrusts become harder and roughly, "takin' me like a fucking CHAMP!" He shouts out as he thrusts up into you, he pulls out and lays you down on the shower floor in doggy. He slides right back into your warmth as he goes right back to how he was thrusting before, his hands grip your hips and his groin bounces off your ass causes it to ripple.

You run your hand down to your cock and start jerking it, with each jerk brings you closer to the sweet relief of cumming. With a couple more jerks, you shoot your load all over the shower floor, your boy-pussy tightens around Eric's cock causing his thrusts to become sloppy and sloppier until he pulls out and immediately shoot his load all over your juicy ass. Eric lifts up your limp body and washes the cum off of you and helps dry you off, laying your naked body on the bed. He kisses your forehead as he watches you drift off into the abyss of sleep, "night baby boy" he mumbles in your ear, "by the way... when you wake up we are going to do that thing you promised me" Eric chuckles and leaves the bedroom, your eyes widen when you realised what you promised to do.

taglist - @starboye @mailmango @ghostking4m @kingchaospostsstuff @crispysoup318 @inhumanshadows @its-ares @gayaristocrat

[misslovasstuff]

Things that they say which make you weak in the knees

fem!reader x op!men: Zoro, Sanji, Law.

information: nsfw content is marked aside.

please support me here (⁎⁍̴̛ᴗ⁍̴̛⁎) ： ko-fi

Zoro

“You’re so pretty when you fight”

The way you just send that guy flying with just one punch makes me think you can be so ruthless sometimes… I like it.”

“You decided to wear the most seductive perfume for me to get drunk on.”

“Come, rest on my lap.”

“I want to hold your hand just in case you get lost, you know…”

“I’ll never let you out of my grip.”

“You’re the sword I point to myself, my greatest weakness.”

“One more tear coming from your eyes and I’ll let the world know what it means to live in hell.”

“I got you one of those hair clips you like.”

“You’ve gotten stronger, so it will be soon enough that you will surpass curly eyebrows.”

“I’m so proud of you.”

“Well, can’t blame a man for not being able to say no to his woman.“

“You’re one of the strongest people I know, babe. Don’t get discouraged.”

“You feeding me food just made my whole day.”

“Just because I’m with a beautiful woman does not mean I know how I did it alright?”

“Beautiful, everything about you is so beautiful.”

“I’ve missed you all day, a lot.”

“Please say it one more time, say it again that you love me.”

NSFW

“Fuck baby, you’re tightening around me so much.”

“You like doing the exact opposite of what I tell you, huh? Then don’t bend over and absolutely don’t scream my name while I’m at it.”

“Every hole of yours takes me so well. Does your body only accept my cock?”

“You’ve been fantasising about this moment, right?”

“Spit out all the positions you’ve imagined yourself with me. We’re going to try them all.”

“Your gaze on me is so intense, what do you want baby? Whisper to me all your nasty thoughts?”

“I like it when you scream like that, go even louder if you want. Let yourself go wild, I’m here with you, I got you.”

“Look at yourself, your hips are moving on their own. Are you this eager for me?”

“Leaving all these marks on my skin, what do you want to show? That I’m yours? There is none in the world who doesn’t know that I belong to you.”

Sanji

“Where does your beauty come from? The heavens?”

“I haven’t really known love before laying my eyes on you.”

“Mon amour, the dress I got looks marvellous on you, my goodness…I can’t look away. Don’t mind your boyfriend staring at you for a while.”

“I made your favourite dessert, love. And no, it won’t make you fat, and no it was not a bother for me. You’re never a bother for me cher. Now open your mouth.”

“Who hurt you like this? Tell me. I know you’re kind and don’t want to hurt anyone, but I need to meet the bastard who did this to you.”

“Pretty girl looking at the pretty sunset not knowing she’s prettier, no, the prettiest!”

“Your hair has grown so beautifully during the past few months, sweetheart. You look like a fairy princess.”

“Wait I don’t want you to go and leave me alone with mosshead! Pleaseeeee, baby nooooo!”

“Is this guy bothering you?”

“Look man, can’t you see the lady has no interest in you whatsoever? Keep walking and don’t you dare even to look back at her, bastard!”

“I read the little note you left for me in the kitchen, it’s still not funny that you sign with a spiral brow every time.”

NSFW

“I’ll start begging if you keep teasing me like this, mon cœur.”

“So afraid to kiss your lips and taint them with mine. How can I not tremble when I touch something so heavenly?

“Slow down, Angel. All this is here for you.”

“You taste so good, I want more…more…”

“Such a good girl for putting your legs over my shoulders, you know what your boyfriend likes, don’t you sweetheart?”

“Yes, baby exactly like that. Move your tongue around it just like that.”

“Feel how deep I am in you, feel it, touch it.

“Is it alright if I start moving it? Well, perhaps it’d be good to ask myself that too because I’m feeling so overwhelmed right now.”

“Mon amour, tell me how you like it, tell me what you want, I’ll do it all for you.”

“I’ve been thinking all day of being inside you.”

“Your boobs pull my hands like magnets. Let them be the hill I die on.”

“I’m restraining my moans cause I know you’ll make fun of me later. However, I can’t help but whimper under your touch.”

“I’ll fuck you like the very first day. You remember what position you were in, don’t you? Then, be a good girl and bend over for me.”

Law

“You don’t have to put all the pressure on yourself. I’m here so relax.”

“How come you’re so confident and so shy at them same time? That’s adorable.”

“Go out with me, I promise I’ll make you the happiest woman in all the seas!”

“I could never foresee experiencing this feeling. Is this what it feels like to fall in love? Do you…do you feel it too?”

“I’ve done many mistakes in my life but you are not one.”

“I found you, someone I want to protect and risk my life for. How can I gather the strength to let go of your hand now?”

“I’m not blushing! It’s not blush it’s just the freaking sun!”

“Look, it’s hard talking about feelings ok? I need a moment to think how to not completely crumble when I gaze at your eyes.”

“How can someone so precious like you exist?”

“Your soul radiates a light so strong that it pushes off all my senses. Can I touch you?”

“I trust you. Please come back safely.”

“Allies? You specify our relationship as allies? That’s it?!

NSFW

“That’s why you were waiting for me on the deck, so you could get dicked down tonight?”

“I’ll touch you only if you use that pretty mouth of yours to beg. Come on sweetheart, don’t be mad at me, I’ve spoiled you way to much.”

“While I’m at it, start thinking of other places you want to be fucked at. The night is long, beautiful.”

“Look at me. Yes, with that satisfaction in your eyes. Take my fingers in your mouth and don’t be loud. Surely you don’t want your crew to see you in such position, yes?”

“Fuck, where did you learn to suck like that?”

“You can’t see them but there are marks in your ass from all the slapping. Only you would be crazy enough to tattoo them.”

“Driving me crazy here, you’re riding me like there’s no tomorrow. Please, don’t stop.”

“You’re so rough… I love it…I love you.”

[natsaffection]

Save Heaven. | Wandanat

Natasha x Fem!Reader x Wanda

Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI! Threesome, begging, Oral, Strap on (r receiving) vibrator use, multiple Orgasm, overstimulation, nipple play, aftercare

Word Count: 2,1k

A/N: I DELETED THE REQUEST, IM SO SORRY ANON😭 It was requested, that Wandanat is fucking reader rough and then aftercare, so here it is. 🫶🏼

Natasha’s piercing green eyes gleamed intensely as she surveyed your submissive form, taking in the softness of your skin, the curves of your hips, and the way your long black hair fell over your back.

“You look absolutely delicious,” Natasha whispered, her breath hot against your ear. “Ready for us?” You trembled with anticipation, your body already tingling with excitement. “Yes,” you breathed.

“Please, I’m ready.” And you were. You had been longing for this moment all day, your body vibrating with electricity at the thought of being taken by your two lovers.

Without another word, Natasha and Wanda pounced on you, their lips meeting yours in a rough, passionate kiss. Hands roamed over your body, teasing your nipples and stroking your thighs. You could feel your pussy getting wetter with each touch, your clit throbbing with desire.

They pushed you back onto the bed. “Remember your Colors, Detka.” Natasha and Wanda exchanged a knowing glance before Natasha reached into a nearby drawer and pulled out a strap-on dildo.

The thick, veined dildo glistened in the dim light as she held it in her hand, her fingers suggestively tracing its length.

“Please,” you begged, your body tense with longing. “I..I want to feel you inside me.” Wanda grabbed your thighs, spreading your legs and exposing your wet, swollen pussy. Natasha grinned wickedly, spreading your labia and letting the tip of the dildo glide up and down your slick folds.

You bucked your hips, desperate for more. “Look at her, Wanda,” Natasha said, her eyes fixed on your exposed pussy. “Her little cunt is so wet for us. Look how desperate she is,” Wanda growled, her dark brown eyes filled with wild hunger. Natasha felt herself getting more aroused with each telling glance she exchanged with Wanda.

You moaned softly, your head moving side to side as both women continued to tease your sensitive flesh. Without warning, she thrust the dildo deep into your greedy pussy, making you scream with pleasure. Wanda buried her face in your neck, nibbling on your delicate skin and whispering dirty words in your ear.

Natasha began thrusting the dildo into your pussy, faster and harder than ever before. Natasha moaned, enjoying the feel of your tight pussy gripping the dildo. She thrust into you with long, hard strokes, her hips slapping against your ass with each thrust.

Wanda watched with hungry eyes, her own body tense with desire as she saw Natasha taking you roughly. She let her hands glide over her own breasts, teasing her hardened nipples and pinching them between her fingers.

The feel of your tight pussy squeezing her cock made Natasha’s head swim with lust, and when Wanda’s mouth found one of your breasts, Natasha knew they would all come soon.

“God, you two are so hot together,” Natasha groaned, gripping your hips and thrusting deeper into you. Wanda moaned in agreement, her hand slipping between your legs to rub your clit.

You screamed with pleasure as Wanda touched you, your body arching against Wanda’s hand. But Natasha held you firmly, her fingers digging into your hips as she continued to thrust into you. Wanda’s lips moved from your breast to your neck, nibbling and biting at the soft flesh as she brought you closer to the edge.

“Please!” you begged, your voice hoarse with lust. “I can’t take it anymore. I need to come..!“ Natasha grinned, her thrusts becoming harder and faster as she denied you the release you so desperately craved.

“Not yet, my love,” she growled. “You’ll come for both of us when we’re ready.” You whimpered, knowing you shouldn’t push Natasha further. You arched your back, trying to bring your breasts closer to Wanda’s mouth, desperate for the release that would come soon.

Her wet tongue flicked over your erect nipples, making you moan with anticipation. Natasha wanted to push you further, so she reached out and slapped Wanda’s ass with her free hand. “Lick her clit..” she demanded.

Wanda eagerly released your breasts and crawled between your legs. Your dominant lovers grinned at each other as they watched Wanda’s tongue swirl around your clit, pushing you beyond your limits.

“Holy s-shit,” you moaned, arching your back off the bed as Wanda’s tongue danced over your sensitive flesh. With every stroke of Wanda’s tongue, you felt yourself getting closer to the edge, knowing it wouldn’t be long before you fell over that precipice.

Natasha could see your body trembling with lust as Wanda’s tongue explored your sensitive clit, and she felt a surge of lust flow through her own veins. Her thrusts into your pussy became more erratic, her breath shallower as she felt herself nearing the edge.

Wanda’s fingers worked in sync with Natasha’s thrusts, her tongue still swirling around your clit, driving you wild with lust. The tension in the room was palpable as the three women hovered on the brink of orgasm, their bodies taut with desire.

“Come for us,” Natasha growled, thrusting her cock into your greedy pussy. Your body shook as you responded, your moans of pleasure filling the air as you came hard and fast.

Natasha felt herself tipping over the edge, her own orgasm just within reach. With one final, powerful thrust, she let go, feeling the intense pulse of pleasure as she flooded your tight pussy with her warmth.

Wanda moaned, caught up in the wave of pleasure that washed over the room, and let go as well, adding her own release to Natasha’s.

Natasha reached out and brushed a strand of hair from your face, her eyes gentle with affection. “Color, Y/n?” she asked softly. You looked at her and didn’t need long, “Green…”

Without words, Natasha bent down to the small drawstring bag on the nightstand. Inside was a selection of sex toys. Another dildo, a vibrator, handcuffs, a whip, and a pair of nipple clamps. Without hesitation, she took the vibrator Dildo and handed it to Wanda with a wicked grin.

Wanda’s eyes gleamed with lust as she took the Dildo from Natasha, her dark brown eyes filling with hunger as she watched you squirm beneath her.

She moved behind you, positioning herself behind your back, and let the Toy glide up and down your smooth folds. You gasped at the sensation, your breath hitching as Wanda teased you. You spread your legs wider, urging Wanda to penetrate you.

You moaned with pleasure, gripping the sheets as Wanda began to pump the vibrator in and out of you. Natasha watched, her emerald eyes following the movement of the toy in and out of your wet pussy, feeling more aroused than she ever had.

Your eyes widened as Natasha moved between your legs and pressed another vibrator against your clit. The sensation was intense, and you cried out in pleasure as Natasha turned it on. „Fuck! W-Wait..!“

The vibrations sent waves of pleasure through your body, and you felt yourself losing control. Natasha grinned mischievously as she watched you writhe beneath her, your body trembling with lust. You were so damn full, the stretching sensation almost too much to bear, and the vibrations directly on your clit were overwhelming, but you craved it, needed it.

Natasha watched your face, her piercing green eyes clouded with desire. She loved seeing you like this, completely lost in lust. She moved the vibrator faster against your clit, watching your body tremble with each pulse of the toy.

“FUCK, s-stop..” you begged, your voice barely a whisper. Wanda reached over and grabbed one of your nipples, twisting and pulling it as she watched your face contort with pleasure. “Unless you say your safe word, we won’t stop, Detka.”

Natasha grinned at her and continued to rub the vibrator against your clit, pushing you closer to orgasm. Wanda, still behind you, began thrusting harder and faster.

Your body trembled as you neared your climax. Your moans grew louder and more desperate, your fingers clutching the sheets as you tried to hold onto something solid. Natasha watched you with a hunger in her eyes that made you feel like the only thing that mattered in the world, “I-I can’t! It’s too muuuch-”

“Don’t worry,” Natasha said in a deep, soothing voice. “You can do it. Just let go and give in.” You closed your eyes, focusing on the sensations coursing through your body. Natasha’s hand still worked on your clit. You felt a fire building inside you, a fire that threatened to consume your entire being.

“You’re so close,” Wanda whispered, her voice dripping with desire. “Just let go..” Your body trembled as you fought to hold back your orgasm. You could feel the tension inside you building, threatening to break free and send you over the edge.

With a moan of pure lust, you let go, screaming as your orgasm overtook you. Waves of pleasure rolled through your body, leaving you weak and trembling, and Natasha and Wanda held you tight as if they were keeping you afloat.

Natasha and Wanda, both with satisfied yet tender expressions, exchanged a glance, silently communicating their next steps. They both understood the importance of aftercare, especially when you were in such a vulnerable state.

Wanda was the first to move, her magic shimmering faintly as she summoned a soft, warm blanket. She gently draped it over you, ensuring you were comfortable and secure. Her fingers brushed lightly against your skin, sending reassuring warmth through your body.

"Hey, sweetheart," Wanda whispered softly, her voice soothing. "How are you feeling?" Your eyes were half-lidded, your breathing still uneven. You managed a small, dreamy smile. "Fuzzy... good..."

Natasha approached from the other side, carrying a glass of water. She sat on the edge of the bed and helped you sit up slightly, supporting you with a strong yet gentle arm. "Here, drink this," Natasha instructed, her tone gentle but firm. "You need to stay hydrated, okay?"

As you sipped the water, Natasha's free hand caressed your back in slow, calming circles. The combined care from both women made you feel safe and cherished, the intensity of earlier moments giving way to a deep, comforting intimacy.

Wanda settled on the other side of you, her fingers now running through your hair in rhythmic strokes. "You did so good," she murmured, her eyes filled with affection. "We're so proud of you."

You felt a surge of warmth at Wanda's words, the praise making your heart flutter even in your hazy state. Natasha leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. "You were amazing," she echoed, her voice a low, comforting purr.

The three of you stayed like that for a while, wrapped in a cocoon of warmth and care. Natasha and Wanda continued their gentle ministrations, ensuring you felt completely relaxed and reassured. Every touch, every whisper was filled with love and appreciation, reinforcing the deep bond you all shared.

As you began to drift off, lulled by the tender care, Natasha and Wanda exchanged another look, this time filled with mutual understanding and love. They knew the importance of these moments, the delicate balance between their roles and the unwavering support they provided each other.

"Sleep now," Wanda whispered, her voice the last thing you heard as you finally succumbed to the comforting embrace of sleep. "We've got you."

With you safely asleep between them, Natasha and Wanda shared a gentle kiss over your resting form. They settled in, ready to keep watch and ensure you had the rest and care you deserved, their hearts united in a shared promise of love and protection.

[teastyun]

✧.* Abby and her strap headcanons

a/n: daydreaming about a buff woman and her strap reversing women's rights ❤️ masterlist ; pt. 2

-> Abby who loves to fuck you slow and deep when you need the exact opposite, "you want me to go faster? huh, what a whore. beg for it then."

-> Abby who fucks you senseless when you're being a brat, "where did all that attitude from a few minutes go all of a sudden, huh?" ; "cat caught your tongue?" ; "you wanna be a good girl for me? my good girl..."

-> Abby who would always make you sit on her lap at parties and gatherings while her clothed strap beneath you drives you into agony, resulting in you pretending to be sick and get home early to fuck until sunrise (please, I'm on all fours begging)

-> Abby who always wants you to cockwarm her like it's her real dick, "stop moving, princess," ; "if you clench like that we'll never be able to rest," ; "fuck, I can't take it anymore."

-> Abby who always puts her strap on when you guys go on dates and bends you over whenever you're in private, plunging her dick deep into you while pressing her hand on your mouth to suppress your screams (one time somebody called the police because of your noises)

-> Abby who swears your pussy was made for only her to fuck, watching her dick slip in and out so easily

-> Abby who's in heaven when you blow her while she drives, your stifled moans and wet noises making her almost come on the spot, not caring about anyone catching you

-> Abby who manspreads when you're sitting across her and smirks when your eyes would catch several glimpses of her packed crotch, knowing you'll both get no sleep today

-> Abby who is railing you deep into the mattress when you bought her a breeding strap for her birthday, forgetting about any plans you two had with y'all's friends for the day

-> Abby who is by your two's first time using it extremely fascinated by it and can't stop filling you to the brim, watching the fake semen combined with your cum gush out of your pussy like a waterfall in repeat

-> Abby who takes polaroid pictures anytime you squirt and collects them in her wallet (her friends are making fun of her thick wallet, not knowing that in there are actually slutty pictures of you, not cash)

[cockslutpadalecki]

There Is A Heaven, Lets Keep It A Secret

Summary: The owner of the brothel you were sold to only offered you to the ghoul in the hopes it would frighten you. To stop you from trying to run away. You weren’t meant to actually like it.

Characters: The Ghoul/Cooper Howard x F!Reader.

Words: ~1K.

Warnings: ghoul fucking, what else can I say? Mostly PWP, some initially unintended angst, 18+.

A/N: Dedicated to the queens that are @sweeterthanthis & @likedovesinthewnd ❤️ Not beta’ed so all errors, spelling mistakes and general bullshit are entirely mine.

The smell of leather and day old blood used to turn your stomach. But as Cooper slams his glove over your mouth to keep you quiet, your gut rolls with something that’s so far removed from revulsion, it makes your eyes roll into the back of your head.

Pavlovian instinct or not, warmth blossoms in your core, and flames take root in your veins until all you can feel is unmistakable heat.

“Ssh sweetheart,” he coos in Texan above you. “Can’t have them knowin’ you like it. You wouldn’t want me to stop comin’ around, would ya?”

He doesn’t need your affirmation in words. The way your cunt pulses around him is more enough to tell him what he already knows.

The ghoul was only meant to scare you into staying. To put you in your place.

But the more he keeps coming back, the more of the man beneath the irradiated skin shines through.

Initial terror morphs into adoration and some nights, when the raiders decide to get a little rough, you find yourself hiding inside your head— fantasising that it’s his hands on you instead.

But the fantasy only lasts briefly. Cooper Howard would never.

Unless you ask him nice and pretty.

You stare up at him, his eyes lost in the way your breasts bounce from the force of his thrusts. He ruts into you with abandon, the loud slap of his hips against your ass echoing around the room. The obscenity makes heat creep up your spine, and settle thick beneath your cheeks.

You can’t have anyone knowing that these moments are all that keep you sane.

“Maybe it ain’t gonna be your mouth that reveals your truth, after all, honey,” Cooper observes with a husk.

A free hand slides up your writhing body, and a gloved thumb runs circles over your pebbling nipple. Your back arches at the contact, forcing your hips up. His stare catches yours over the top of leather.

“There you are, little Jet,” he smiles.

Cooper lifts your leg over his shoulder, the contrast in depth steals the breath from your lungs. He notices— must see the way your eyes widen as he slides back inside you, right up to the root. Your hand flies up, tightening your grip around his wrist.

“Right there, huh?” With another brash smile, he presses his lips firm against the inside of your knee. The kiss sends pulses of electricity firing straight to your core.

Fuck. If there was still a God, you’d pray.

There was a part of you that used to hate how easily he managed to unravel the components that make you weak.

But hate fast became a need. Now you welcome it. Crave it.

Your stomach lurches with heat the moment his pace begins to quicken. Everything suddenly heightens around you— heartbeat and all five of the senses— and it’s evident your end is close to catching you.

“You gonna give me what I came for, sweetheart?” His voice is gentle, but his actions are not.

You nod. You’d give him your fucking life at this point.

His hand slides off your mouth, settling loosely around your throat like a necklace. “Wanna hear you beg.”

You lick your lips wet, the words, “Please, Coop,” hissing quietly through your teeth. Just loud enough for him to hear.

He smirks. His free hand finds its way between your legs without a second thought, and the roughness of the leather against your sensitive clit is everything you need to tumble over the edge.

Cooper clamps his hand back over your mouth, hurrying to stifle your scream as you splinter beneath him. Stars swell, bursting into bright white behind your eyes just as the tremors start off in your thighs. Euphoria claims you for its own, and by the time you’re finished, your entire body is shaking with delirium.

He stares down at you in awe, hips snapping to a rhythm that has you keening into the palm of his glove. Leather and blood encompass you. Your body ripples from the weight of Cooper’s body against yours, your name wrapped up within his lips as he surrenders to his high.

When he moves out from between your legs, you’re too fucked out to pull him back in. Every inch of you needs him back.

You hate this moment the most. The awkward silence before he has to leave. And as he glances at you over his shoulder, tipping his hat in your direction like the goddamn gentlemen he still is beneath the surface, you feel a twinge in your chest.

“Until next time sweetheart,” he drawls thickly.

You flash him a small smile. “I’ll be here, Coop, just like always.”

And just like always, you’ll be counting down the days like it’s fucking Christmas.

[milfharkness]

honey, on your knees (when you look at me) | part two

pairing: agatha harkness x fem reader

summary: agatha wasn't lying when she said she's an incredibly generous boss.

contents: g!p agatha, dom agatha, sub reader, dirty talk, degradation, praise, oral (reader receiving), fingering (reader receiving), vaginal sex, spanking, talk of breeding

part one

You scramble to get on your feet, practically jumping to get to her black leather couch. You don't care in the slightest how pathetic you must look, you've never needed—or wanted—someone more than this woman.

Agatha's still wearing that smirk when she stalks over to you, a predator seizing up its eager prey: "So needy...take off your skirt."

You obey mindlessly and slide it down, letting it fall on the floor so you're left in your lace underwear, grateful that it's black so the wet spot wouldn't be as visible.

It really, really doesn't help when Agatha lowers herself to the floor in front of you and bites her lip. You squirm on the sofa, whimpering under her gaze.

"I fucked your throat once and you're already like this? God, how are you gonna act when I finally fuck your cunt?"

Still untouched (and painfully aware of it), you moan.

"Fuck, please just...God, anything."

Agatha takes pity on you. With a quick motion, she moves to unbutton your blouse, unnecessarily careful in not just tearing it off as if you cared about any piece of clothing at this point.

Once it's unbuttoned, you push it off your shoulders, much to Agatha's amusement: "Someone's eager."

"Agatha, please, I am so-...this is torture."

And it is. You can feel yourself throbbing, and you're not sure you've ever been this turned on in your entire life.

She ignores you, instead moving to unclasp your bra and taking it off you. Cold air hits your nipples and you inhale sharply when she finally touches you again, caressing your breasts with soft hands. Veiny hands. Fuck.

"So pretty, such a pretty girl," she mumbles more to herself than you, watching your nipples harden under her touch. You don't stop squirming, your hands making their way into her hair, trying to guide her lower where you so desperately need her. She chuckles at your attempt, sending vibrations through your body and making you whine.

"Agatha, please, I need you so bad..."

"Mm...beg."

Isn't that what you've already been doing? Whatever.

"Agatha, please just fuck me...need your mouth, your fingers, your cock, anything, need you to fill me up and make me yours."

Agatha releases a low growl at the last part and you bite your lip in anticipation—her next touch is soft, caressing your bare thighs. When she finally pushes your underwear aside, not even bothering to take it off, you gasp at being exposed to the cold air—she actually moans at the feeling of you on her fingers, dragging them through your folds lightly before circling your clit.

Your eyes flutter and your head falls back against the back of the couch, mouth opened in a silent scream, eyebrows knitted together. You've been so turned on for so long, you're certain it won't take long for Agatha to make you come undone.

"Good girl, y/n," she coos, face contorted in pleasure.

When she finally pushes a finger into you, you feel like you're ascending to heaven. She curls it immediately and doesn't hesitate to add another.

"Fuck," you call out, breathy and high-pitched, "Harder, please."

She obliges, thrusting into you (much too slowly for your taste), hitting a spot that made you see stars, and leaving you gasping.

You arch your back off the couch and just when you really think you're gonna die, she closes her lips around your throbbing clit and sucks.

The moan you let out is borderline pornographic and she chuckles against you, the vibrations driving you even crazier than before.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!," you exclaim, nodding your head vigorously.

She replaces her lips with her tongue, drawing small circles around your clit before flicking it—your hands are still fisted into her hair, trying desperately to pull her towards you, craving more pressure.

"Please, Agatha," you sob, "I need more, please give me more..."

Agatha hums: "How bad do you want it?"

"So fucking bad, holy fuck, I'll do anything."

"Anything? Jesus, you're a slut."

"Your slut, Agatha!"

"Mm...I guess you do deserve it," she smirks.

So Agatha gets to work. Drawing circles, flicking, once more closing her lips around your clit and sucking, all while thrusting into you and curling her long fingers inside of you, God, just the thought of her hands is-

"Come on, baby. Be good for me, cum for me."

It's like time stills—at her command, you immediately come undone, slipping into a state of bliss from one second to the next, a stage you never imagined someone would be able to put you in in a matter of minutes, not even in your bed at night with your hand between your legs, to some magazine with Agatha on the cover.

You don't know how long you lay slumped against the couch, brows knitted together, eyes closed, panting heavily—it might be minutes, might be hours, you don't know and you don't care.

Only once you hear shuffling around the room do you open your eyes, and the sight makes your heart skip a beat. Agatha stands by the side of the couch, her blazer and her blouse torn off and somewhere on the floor behind her. Her pants are still on, but like before, zipped down with her hard cock on full display, one hand on the arm rest and one stroking herself. Your eyes widen and you look up at Agatha, just to be met with that signature smirk of hers.

"Oh, did you think we were done already?"

You get up immediately, legs slightly wobbly when you walk towards her and cup her face to do what you've been wanting to do since the first time you saw her—you kiss her.

It's not heated, but soft and warm. She tastes like you. When you slowly pull away, Agatha is smiling puts her hand over yours.

Your hands move from her face to her neck, collarbone and finally, her chest. You hesitate, but Agatha nods: "You can touch."

And you're planning on taking full advantage of that. You unclasp her bra with one hand, running your thumb over her nipple and leaning down to put your mouth around her other one. She inhales sharply, fisting her hands in your hair and pulling—a whimper escapes you, and she chuckles, head thrown back as you continue to suck, lick and kiss.

A gasp tears itself from her throat and you smile to yourself, proud to be able to get such a reaction from the big bad lawyer.

"You're so beautiful," you murmur against her skin, "I wanna do this forever."

"Fuck, I might let you."

You look up at her—disheveled hair, wide eyes, mouth slightly agape, she looks like a fucking dream.

When she meets your gaze, her tongue darts out and she licks her lower lip.

"Bend over."

You don't dare disobey and bend over the side of her couch, propping yourself up on your elbows. A blanket is thrown over it, warm and soft, keeping your skin from sticking to the leather.

With way too much self control, she slowly slides a finger inside. Agatha bites back a choked little groan, pumping her finger in and out of you before adding a second. You just whine, still sensitive from your first orgasm, letting out jagged breaths every time she curls her fingers inside you.

"Jesus fuck."

"Such foul language for a pretty little girl like you, hm?"

You'd be rolling your eyes if you had the brain capacity left to think about what she said. It's like your brain is cotton candy, all inhibitions lost, with only thing on your mind being Agatha Agatha Agatha.

"y/n? I asked you a question. I expect an answer."

"Yes," you reply shakily, just praying that that's what she wants to hear.

The stimulation is not quite enough, you think desperately to yourself, with nothing on your clit, but you still roll your hips, trying to force her fingers deeper.

"Little slut," you can hear her hiss.

Without warning, her free hand comes down on your ass with a sharp smack. You yelp and squeeze your eyes shut, face contorted with pleasure.

"Please, please fuck me."

"I am fucking you," she responds coolly, accentuating her sentence with a particularly hard thrust and curling her fingers.

"Your cock, Agatha, I need your cock!"

"Greedy little girl."

"Yes, fuck, I'm so greedy, need you inside me so bad..."

Agatha chuckles, shaking her head: "I should've called you into my office and fucked you on your first day. Bet you would've let me."

"I would've," you nod vigorously, "Would've let you do anything to me."

She pulls her fingers out of you suddenly and you let out a sob.

"Would you have let me used you? Stick my dick in you on day one?"

"Yes," you admit. You want to cry from how empty you feel without her fingers inside of you—fortunately, Agatha has another idea on how to fill you.

Her fingers dig into your hips; she arranges them so that the head of her cock drags slowly along your pussy. You gasp and grind yourself down against her.

"Fuck!," she throws her head back, "You're so fucking wet. I know how bad you need it, baby, all you have to do is say 'Please, Agatha.'"

"Please—," you cry, voice rough, and she flexes her hips upward, pleased, nudging the tip inside of you. "—Fuck. Fuck, Agatha. You're fucking big."

She stills and her fingers dig into your hips, stopping your movement. "You can take it," she says, "You will take it."

You close your eyes, squirming around the intrusion, and try to shift your hips, to fuck yourself further on her cock, but her grip is like iron: "You gonna be a good girl for me?"

Speaking is so, so hard, but you manage to gasp out "Yes, Agatha".

She sucks air through her gritted teeth. And then, she slams you down onto her cock.

The stretch is intense. You clench around her, feeling so fucking full, before she withdraws and pushes in again, groaning loudly.

You're still sensitive from your first orgasm, as you imagine she is, so you know it's only a matter of minutes before you'll come again.

Her hips jerk upwards, driving her deeper than you thought was possible. There's no room inside of you for anything else, nothing, not even thoughts. Just Agatha and the way her cock is splitting you open.

"Perfect little cunt, so fucking tight and hot for me," she groans, "Knew you fucking would be, knew you'd feel so good around me."

You whine your agreement in cute little whimpers, ripped from your mouth as she rolls her hips. Agatha's fingers dig themselves impossibly tighter into your skin, leaving marks—the thought of her leaving marks makes your eyes flutter open—as she grinds herself into you.

"Gonna cum inside you," she growls raggedly, "gonna fill you up and breed you."

She tears a hand away from your skin to reach underneath you and messily rub your clit with two fingers, reveling in the way you spasm around her, moaning loudly.

"You're all I think about," she growls, thumbing roughly at your clit, "At work, at home, always want you so fucking bad. Wanna keep you, do anything I want to you."

"Yes," you gasp, "Yes, anything you want, I'm so close."

"Already? I should train you to last longer for me, make you my perfect little toy...come on, toy. Beg me to let you come."

"Please, Agatha, fuck, please let me come. Oh, please," you whine, pushing yourself back into her, spreading her legs further to give her better access to your clit.

"Okay, okay, fuck, come now."

With a last thrust of her hips, you come, biting down on your lip so hard you think you might draw blood as pleasure ripples through your body once more, and you seize up.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, baby," she chants as you clench tight around her, "Feels so fucking good, fuck."

You gasp out another moan as hot cum floods your cunt.

Agatha groans, long and loud, pumping through her aftershocks. Her skin is hot against yours and the warmth inside you makes your eyes roll back in your head.

Agatha doesn't pull out. Minutes pass with her inside you, not a single word spoken, as you both calm down from your highs. Sweat clings to you, you're hungry and you could really go for a shower—but you don't want to leave this moment. You think you could probably live in it.

That is, until Agatha does eventually pull out. You let yourself rest fully against the couch, still silent as she cleans the both of you with more wet wipes. You vaguely hear her getting dressed again, before she takes a seat right next to where you're laying on the couch—still bent over its side.

Her hand makes its way into your hair and she strokes it, more slowly and carefully than you would've expected. She even lets out a little laugh at the sight of you: "Baby, c'mere. Let's get you dressed."

Your response is a long groan. Even just the idea of standing up is so far away. The only thing close is Agatha's voice, her touch.

She hums, enamored smile and soft gaze, when she stands up again and collects your clothes: "You'll get cold, darling. Come, sit up, we can—okay, you're probably gonna have to...throw out this pair of underwear, wow."

She sounds almost impressed.

"I'll just—I'll buy you new ones. Do you like Thai? I'm getting kind of hungry. We can eat here, people'll start leaving soon, anyways."

You crack open an eye to look at her. She's straightening out your blouse, and you smirk: "Domestic."

"Hey, aftercare's important," she snorts.

"Thai food in your office is aftercare to you?," you slowly peel yourself off the couch, inhaling sharply when your legs touch and you're reminded of now sensitive you still are, and probably will continue to be for the next few days.

"Oh, sorry, would you prefer Italian?"

"Just get over here, Miss Harkness," you scoff as she hands you your blouse and skirt, putting them on carefully, "Jeez, are you like this after fucking other interns, too?"

"Like what?"

"Just come hug me, my God."

Agatha, despite looking slightly irritated, walks over to you and lets you wrap your arms around her, even going so far as to pull you slightly onto her lap.

"You okay?," she mumbles into the crook of your neck. The slight hint of concern in her voice melts your heart.

"Yeah. Just...so tired...I don't think I've ever cum so hard, twice, within, like...twenty minutes?"

Agatha looks pleased with herself: "You got any plans for today?"

You shake your head.

"Come over to mine, then. We'll order food there."

You perk up, raising an eyebrow with a grin on your face: "Oh, is that what it takes to be invited to yours? Best blowjob of your life and my pussy?"

Agatha huffs, unable to hide a genuine smile, and tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear: "You're just assuming that was the best blowjob of my life?"

"Am I wrong?"

"No. Still bold, though. Want me to get you a coffee?"

"Can you just...stay here for a bit?"

"Yeah," Agatha nods. If you weren't completely spent, you might've wondered if this is what she looked like nervous. Her free hand now rests on your thigh with the other one still stroking your hair, and you feel a strange sense of comfort.

"Anything you want, honey."

[dalliancekay]

Aziraphale does NOT need to suffer MORE

Can't believe I have to say this. TW: grief, mourning, death (sorry) I have, since falling into the fandom 6 months ago to escape real life, seen many takes on how Aziraphale needs to (or at least should) suffer in S3 to match Crowley's suffering. As the counterpart to the moment Crowley thinks he lost Aziraphale as he's looking for him desperately in the burning bookshop (and his fall)...

.After the fire, Crowley drinks, we suppose, to dull his pain, waiting for the Armageddon. Or even, for the way Crowley suffers at the bandstand argument, the 'I Forgive You' moments, which many people find utterly devastating and incredibly heartless from Aziraphale. Not to mention when Aziraphale doesn't react the 'right way' to Crowley's confession in the Final 15. And then on top of that, 'abandons' Crowley. For Heaven. Oh and also for, and I quote: "The smug and entitled way Aziraphale went around in S2 assuming Crowley would love and follow him everywhere." And so for all this pain that Crowley endured for him, Aziraphale should suffer in S3 (to I assume) even out the scores. Or... to deserve Crowley. Some people also want to see him lose it, show his emotions, to cry or beg or otherwise show how much he misses Crowley and how very sorry he is for what he has (so thoughtlessly) done.

Now for the TW grief content I motioned above. You can skip to the next sentence in bold.

I was on holiday late September last year, visiting my mum, stepfather and my two younger brothers. We went to a cousin's wedding. It was great. The day after, as I was hanging out reading a book, my mum got a call. The kind of call every mother fears. My youngest brother (he was 27) died in an accident. We needed to speak to police and the coroner. She cried and cried. She's still crying. She asks questions. She gets no answers. I...did not cry. I talked to the police. I googled a funeral home. I bought my brother his last set of clothes. He lived in a hoodie and torn black jeans. Mum wanted a suit. I texted a lot of people. I bought snacks for the many friends who came to the funeral and wanted to speak to us after. My grief feels like a vice. I am not sad. I do not appear sad. Contrary to what people expect. But I am ANGRY. I am furious. But nobody can see this. I am not fine and I wish no one would ever* ask how I was again. TW/Personal content over. WE ALL SUFFER DIFFERENTLY Since I was small (because I am weird like that) I genuinely wondered if, finding myself in danger, I could scream like people in films do. I don't think I could. I cope with hard situations, fear and stress and anxiety by shutting down, sometimes by retreating as well, and by furiously (but quietly) trying to find a way out. And I think Aziraphale does the same. And that's why I love him so much. And why I feel I get him and understand that people sometimes can't tell how much he's actually feeling. I also express love the way Aziraphale does - by organising things for people, inviting them places, making plans. When Crowley said you call me for three things (and it's basically any old reason) I felt SO SEEN. This is what I would do with a friend who I know is feeling unmoored, sad, stuck (Crowley's 'What's the point of it all' at the beginning of S2). I'd text them with any old thing. I'd never actually say I love you, but I would try to get them to talk, meet me, go somewhere. Aziraphale does not express emotions the same way as Crowley.

But his emotions are valid nonetheless. He is worried for Crowley from around 3 minutes into their acquaintanceship. And he NEVER stops worrying from then on.

And are we quite sure he has never lost Crowley?

How many times did Aziraphale's heart freeze in horror when he realised Hell has taken Crowley and he had no idea if he'll ever come back and what is happening to him?

How did Aziraphale spend the night after vanquishing the demons and starting a war? He had no idea where Crowley was. What happened to him. He was probably sick with worry that Hell just took him away. We didn't see him drink and cry, but surely, the worry must have been overwhelming. The wait for what will happen now.

ALL his worries over the Arrangement. Was he worried for himself? Do we really think that?

Crowley thought he lost Aziraphale in S1, yes, we saw that. And what happened to the angel then?

He got blown into atoms which I bet wasn't pleasant and when he arrives in Heaven he limps. Why is he hurt? And why is he quickly pretending he isn't? Why is he always hiding how he feels? Also, he immediately deserts, wants no part in the Holy War and quickly finds an extremely unconventional way to get back. It's not a grand gesture, he doesn't deliberate, doesn't worry that he will Fall (although surely that must have been what he thought will happen if he survives this), there's no pomp around it, he thinks it and then does it. No hesitation.

Is this coming from an angel who just can't leave Heaven behind and longs to be a part of it? Who loves to follow rules? And let's not forget in those moments Aziraphale thought Crowley was most likely gone. That he probably left for Alpha Centauri. Last he heard from him he was told he was talking to an old friend and had no time for him. Why we NEVER talk about how that might have felt for Aziraphale? About his sadness?

Things are not as simple as Aziraphale has been supressing his emotions and lying to himself about how he feels and he should get over it and become free. That's not how this works. First of all, he was suppressing his emotions OUT OF LOVE. His main goal was always to keep Crowley safe. They simply couldn't run away or hoodwink Heaven and Hell. They had nowhere to go. They had no hope and yet they kept loving each other. That's courage. I know we all grew up with Romeo and Juliet and Heathcliff and Cathy and we FORGOT that those were CAUTIONARY tales. And this is not what Aziraphale wants for them. He would never allow himself to go so fast he would hurt Crowley. He feels guilty enough for agreeing to the Arrangement and for meeting Crowley at all when he knows they can be discovered and punished at any point. And Crowley knows it and RESPECTS it. He does not tolerate Aziraphale's decision to not go on a date and to hell with circumstances. He understands Aziraphale's reasoning and he respects Aziraphale's decision. Don't forget, they have NO POWER. They can't change Heaven and Hell. They can't stop believing in God and work on their religious trauma. Their Heaven and Hell are real places with real power and they both BELONG to them. Aziraphale's trauma and his personality are deeply intertwined and he'd probably never be the kind of person who is open in showing their grief or stress like Crowley does. He will learn to be more open, I'm sure. With his love especially, we see him reaching for and touching his demon in S2. Openly being with him, looking at him without guarding himself. They got a little bit of freedom for themselves despite ALL odds. So. Just because Aziraphale is not crying and screaming and I dunno, tearing his hair out or whatever some people would have him do, does not mean he isn't overflowing with pain, fear, uncertainty, doubts, worries, and so much anxiety that if he let it all out, half of the solar system would turn to ashes.

Aziraphale does not need to suffer in S3 to level out Crowley's suffering. They are, unfortunately, equal in their pain as they are in love. If there is one thing Crowley would never abide, it'd be this take from the fandom. * One more note on grief: (obviously from my personal experience) As initiated by @anthony-crowleys-left-nut in a comment

It's not that I mind to know people care and worry etc, not at all. But asking how I am can only end up in me lying (fine, thank you) and both of us knowing it's not really true and feeling awkward or not lying (I feel like shit, mostly cos I can't sleep and think the world is a stupid, unfair place) and both of us feeling awkward anyway. Does that make sense? I wish I could tell friends/colleagues to ask what I've been up to or something similar instead. What I've been reading (um, AO3, but I'll make something up), watching, do I want to go see some spring flowers bloom (I do). I think...this would probably work not just for someone who is grieving but also for someone who you know is dealing with depression for example or a serious illness etc. Edit 2. It's now almost (in 15 days) a year since my brother died. The random attacks of pain and grief have lessened and I have started to do more of the things I enjoyed before... and I am able to answer how are you questions without feeling like they are trying to mock me (the questions, not the people). So I suppose things do get ... lighter? More diffused? I'm not sure. Because it's still exactly as unfair that my brother has not lived this past year as it will be however many years I will be here without him I expect.