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goyardgoyangi · 15 days ago

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street racer! sukuna flying you out

You’ve never flown this far for a man before. Not for a boyfriend. Not for family. And Sukuna’s neither of those things—not exactly. Not officially.

But when your phone lit up at 2:03 a.m. with his name and a text that read: Tickets in your email. I want you there, you didn’t even hesitate.

You stared at the screen for maybe thirty seconds, heart pounding like a drum in your throat, rereading the words until they didn’t look like real language anymore.

The airport is a blur of escalators, overpriced coffee, and stiff plastic seats. Your fingers wrap tight around the phone in your lap the entire time, like it might vanish if you let go. You keep checking the itinerary like the tickets will disappear, like he might change his mind.

The flight is quiet. Too quiet. You keep looking out the window even though the clouds all start to look the same after a while. You scroll through old texts—most of them short, chaotic, voice notes, a few shirtless selfies he never even commented on after sending. There’s one photo of you he took when you weren’t looking, sun hitting your skin just right.

You wonder if he looks at it too.

The room he booked was ridiculous—plush king bed, balcony overlooking the city, bathroom big enough to echo in. The towels are folded like little swans, and there’s a basket of fruit on the coffee table that you know he didn’t pick, but somehow it still feels like a love language.

You glance at the bed, then toward the empty side of the room. He’s not here.

Your heart dips before you catch yourself. You’re not here for him like that. Not officially. Not yet.

Still, your name is on the reservation. You wonder if he had to spell it out loud—if he got annoyed when they asked for your ID, or if he said it proud like it meant something. You picture him at the front desk, arms crossed, scowling while the poor receptionist stammers through the check-in. The thought makes your stomach flutter.

By the time you make it to the track, the sun is brutal and the crowd feels like it’s vibrating. Everything is loud: the engines revving like wild animals, bass-heavy music pulsing through the speakers, vendors yelling about merch and drinks and souvenir flags. And there it is—his banner. Sukuna’s face smirking down from the overhead display, tattoos sharp beneath the collar of his fireproof suit. He looks like he was born for this, like chaos bends around him.

You try to shrink into your hoodie. You feel like you shouldn’t be here—like you’re intruding on a moment that belongs to him. You’re just a girl in the crowd, aren’t you? A fly-in. Temporary.

But then— “Thought I told you to be in the VIP tent.”

You turn, heart skipping—and there he is.

Hair tied back, suit half unzipped and slung around his waist, black tank clinging to his chest like it was painted on. His tattoos coil around his biceps, disappearing beneath fabric in smooth lines that look almost sacred. He’s squinting against the sunlight, sunglasses dangling from one hand, and he’s looking at you like he’s been scanning the crowd for hours just to find you.

“Hey,” you breathe, surprised by how relieved you feel at the sight of him.

He looks you up and down, then sighs, “Didn’t I tell you to wait where it’s shady?”

You shrug, trying not to smile. “Didn’t want to be in the way.”

He steps closer, tugging on the sleeve of your jacket with two fingers. “You wearing sunscreen?”

“…No?”

He shakes his head, muttering something about stubborn girls under his breath, and pulls a small travel tube from his back pocket like he knew you'd be reckless. He doesn’t even say anything—just squeezes some into his palm and gently smooths it across your cheekbones, the bridge of your nose, your forehead. His fingers are rough but careful, his brow furrowed in concentration like he’s tuning a car, not touching a girl.

You blink up at him, stunned silent.

“There,” he murmurs. “Can’t have you going back sunburned.”

“You always take care of your pit crew like this?”

He snorts. “You think I flew you out here just to keep you hidden?”

You roll your eyes at his sass. “Didn’t fly me first class either.”

“You liked that window seat or not?”

You try not to laugh, but he sees the way your mouth pulls into a smile, the way your eyes soften. He always sees it.

You always do this—pretend it’s casual, pretend he doesn’t mean more than he should. Pretend the butterflies are just nerves, pretend you’re just friends with benefits with frequent flyer miles. But the way he’s looking at you now… the way he touches you like you matter? It makes pretending feel stupid.

He steps in until your toes nearly touch. “Come with me.”

You blink. “Where?”

“To the pit. I want you there when I line up.”

Your brows lift. “Are you sure?”

He leans in, voice low. “I don’t want to look over and not see you.”

Your chest twists. “You’re gonna make me think you actually like me.”

“Maybe I fuckin’ do,” he says easily—like it’s obvious. Like it’s always been true.

You’re still short-circuiting when he laces his fingers with yours and starts pulling you through the crowd. His hand is warm, a little calloused, his grip loose but certain. It’s not just for show. He doesn’t let go, not once. Not when security waves you through. Not when pit crew nod in passing, glancing at you like you’re familiar. Like you belong.

It’s chaos around you, heat and noise and movement, but he stays close—always checking if you’re still beside him. His thumb rubs across the back of your hand once, slow and thoughtless. You wonder if he even realizes he’s doing it.

When you reach the pit, his car glints under the sun like a weapon. Matte black, red striping, the number 20 on the hood. Same number tattooed on his hands. You’re not even into cars, but you have to admit—this one looks mean. Fast. Like it has a heart that beats the same as his.

He lets go of your hand to shrug on his fireproof jacket and zip it up. A crew member hands him his helmet. You catch him sneaking a glance at you when he thinks you’re not looking.

“You nervous?” you ask, voice soft.

He’s quiet for a second, then glances at the track, then at you. “Nah. Not about the race.”

That shouldn’t hit the way it does, but it does.

You cross your arms, chewing the inside of your cheek while he tugs on his gloves. You don’t know what to say. You’re not even sure what you are to him.

But before the crew can herd him toward the lineup, Sukuna turns to you again.

“You stay right here, yeah?” His voice is low, almost drowned out by the rising engines. “Don’t disappear on me.”

“I won’t,” you say quietly.

He steps in close again, helmet tucked under his arm, eyes locked on yours.

Then—just when you think he might lean in to whisper something—

He kisses your forehead.

Not your cheek. Not your lips.

Your forehead.

It’s simple, but it knocks the air out of you.

He pulls back just a little. “Be good.”

You nod, a little dumb. A little dizzy.

And when he turns to walk toward the car, you already know—whether he wins or not, whether this thing between you ever has a name—you’ll remember this moment forever.

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somedaytakethetime · 2 years ago

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bestie i just know you’d thrive in both the F1 and hockey fandoms, you must go there. like- really. don’t waste your potential!!!

In terms of writing? I do try to make my writing very.. how to word it.. neutral? Non-descriptional? Essentially, overlooking the minor and odd references to football, plus the tags, I try to make the writing as neutral as I can so anyone can imagine whomever they might be interested in. Mostly because that's what I prefer to read about too, I would rather there be no references to names and defining body characteristics so it might fit most men. Granted, if you're around, you know which man I picture but I like to hope that anyone reading can picture just about anyone else too 😂

#now if you mean in terms of thirsting..#well i used to be VERY invested in this Swedish hockey guy many years ago..#and then i got a crush on a redheaded Danish one because Denmark is mostly my sexuality..#and it goes back to the teen crush i had on their crown prince for everyone that might think Kasper is my first Danish obsession 🤣#i just feel like i'd be oddly intruding on other fandoms.. does that make sense?#like it's not my place to start posting or even writing for other men from other sports because i don't actively engage with them #even if.. listen... i'm gay but vastly interested in hot men....#there's a few i never post about but i very much find hot #like an American football one with a plush butt you could bounce a nickel off of.. anyway let me let that though go 🤣#ask

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grimmsbride · 3 months ago

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𝄃𝄀⠀⠀best time ⠀╲ sinister!mark ֤ࣨ🫀𖥔 ݁ ˖

summary an opportunity presents itself that your beloved mark grayson simply can’t give up.

authors notes i had this idea cause truly sinister mark is probably the freakiest of the variants, lenseless being a close second (/j). again if somno isn’t for you, please don’t read and as always please excuse any grammar mistakes.

Night consumed your bedroom, the only light being the moon shining through your window. You were currently tucked under your blankets, enjoying the mixture of warmth and cold as you slept the night away. Soft snores escaped you as your body sunk into the comfortable mattress, your pillow cuddled close to you.

So deep in sleep you didn’t even hear your window open or close, nor wind entering your bedroom. A tall figure stood over your body, shadow covering you like some sort of comforting blanket.

Markus Grayson, stared down at you, a little smile covering his half covered features. The yellow of his costume was slightly stained red, a result of his previous endeavors. The man didn’t expect you to be awake at all, it was late after all. He wondered if you tried to stay up for him, probably forcing yourself to stay busy with some random show or even book.

The thought alone caused his smile to deepen, though that sickeningly sweet feeling seemed to travel lower the moment his eyes took in your body. You weren’t completely covered by the blanket, lower half peeking out whilst your chest and stomach was covered. You wore a pink muumuu, he believed you called it, the fabric resting shy of your waist and revealing your bare legs and ass barely covered by your black panties.

“What a tease.. bet she went to sleep like this on purpose.” Mark muttered to himself, feeling his pants magically tighten the longer he greedily took in your appearance. Within minutes the man was tearing his suit off, caring less if it got ripped in the process. Once completely free from its confinements, Mark was going knee first onto the bed, hand raising to drag across your plush form.

He watched in excitement the way goosebumps pricked in the wake of his touch, a soft shiver even emitting from you that nearly caused the man to giggle. Dragging his fingers from your arm, side, waist, and finally your ass; Mark not so delicately allowed his appendages to trace your barely covered slit, rubbing the pads against you slowly.

Mark took you in, watching that pretty face twitch; still completely asleep though your eyebrows pushing a little close. With a single flick his fingers were intruding your underwear, two of them gliding across your pussy for a moment before pushing into your awaiting hole.

A soft grunt escaped you, Mark lifting himself close until your back was flush against his front. Soft squelches surrounded the air as his fingers curled and thrusted, the man grinning the moment you began to squirm.

“Can’t believe you’re letting me do this to you while you sleep..” The man muttered, pushing his lips right against your ear as a sweet, “Didn’t know you could get this slutty..” escaped him.

Soon enough Mark was growing impatient, pulling his fingers from you before going for his boxers. Easily he tugged the underwear, revealing his hard length dripping with sticky excitement. The man gripped his dick, gliding his hand up and down for a moment before pushing his hips close.

The tip nudged your entrance, gliding across your wetness for extra lubrication before he began to push past the first ring of muscle. Slowly, you sucked him up; Mark glancing between the two of you and watching the way his dick disappeared inside you.

So focused on that, the man noticed you waking up last minute— only being alerted the moment a confused sound escaped you.

“Ma—mark..” You mumbled softly, blinking tiredly for a moment before a soft groan crept from your mouth. Your fingers clung to your pillow, shifting a bit as you attempt to accommodate his size. The man did little prep due to his impatience, causing the stretch to burn just a tad— a delicious, but understandably hard to get used to feeling. You whined softly, shifting once again only for a strong arm to tighten around your waist, pulling you flush to his body.

“Don’t fucking run.. You can take it, you’ve don’t it so many times before.” Mark hissed against your ear, pushing his hips even closer. He couldn’t help but smile at your little pathetic moans or the way your pussy clung to him, coating his dick in your mess so easily.

“See? Your slutty little pussy wanted it just as bad.” He chuckled to himself, hand traveling between your plush thighs to your clit, tapping his fingers against the little button just to hear you whine even louder.

You hadn’t expected your sleep to get cut off by your lover’s own horniness, but you weren’t complaining one bit. It was a simple conversation the two of you had before, something Mark had mocked you for in the moment yet here he was— soaking up the opportunity.

A drawn out cry of his name escaped your lips the moment the man moved, pulling his hips back before pushing right back in, slamming his dick so perfectly inside. You had zero chance to recover before Mark’s hips started a rough and fast pace as if you hadn’t just woken up from your sleep.

The hold he had on you was tight, refusing to let you run away and simply making you take every, single, thrust. Tears were pricking at your eyes as the pleasure swarmed your stomach, pretty pussy clenching around him, as if scared of letting him go.

You shoved your face into the pillow, only for Mark’s free hand to grip your cheeks roughly, tilting your face away from the pillow whilst allowing his fingers to press into your face, refusing to allow you to cover your moans.

Mark glared down at you, giving such pointedly thrusts his irritation was plenty clear. “Quit moving your face, let me see how much of a whore you really are.”

Mark was practically drilling into you at this point, releasing your face to instead grip your thigh, lifting it to hit your walls at a different angle; tip brushing against your sweet spot with each thrust. Your lips were parted as a melodic string of moans escaped your aching throat, tears spilling over and trailing down your warm cheeks.

“Fu..fuck..! Mark, Mark!” Pretty cries escaped, hurried breaths shortening each word as he knocked the wind out of you. Mark always fucked you so greedily, as of wishing to kill you with his dick alone. Never allowing you to breathe, think, or even blink; such a ruthless cycle that you’ve unfortunately gotten addicted to.

“That’s it.. what a good girl. You like my name that much, huh?”

His mocking words dripped with confidence and his usual condescending nature— the man even mocking your moans right into your ear for good measure.

Your peak was arising, stomach clenching as you felt yourself draw closer and closer. You couldn’t help but meet his thrust, ass pushing flush against him as you desperately chased your end. Such actions had Mark groaning, pushing at your body until you were lying on your stomach.

Mark’s hands pressed against the plush mattress on either side of your body, resting on his knees as he thrusted into you so mercilessly you were seeing stars.

With every thrust you were clinging to your pillow for dear life, sobs escaping your body as you shook and gasped from the pleasure. A hand moved from your pillow to reach blindly for the man currently wrecking you, finding his wrist and latching on.

Mark could only chuckle, fucking you so relentlessly with no sign of growing tired.

“Close aren’t you? Can barely even move with how much you’re clenching me.. fuck..” The man lowered himself, thrusts becoming shallow and deep as his breath fanned across the shell of your ear.

“Go on, then— make a fucking mess, but I’m not stopping anytime soon.”

His words were enough to push you over the edge, clenching him like a damn vice as you came, your arousal trickling down his dick and onto your poor blankets. You desperately tried to catch your breath, tried to relax; calm down— you simply couldn’t with the way his thrusts did not waver in the slightest.

You pinched your eyes closed, face dropping into your pillow for a split second— only for a loud yelp to escape the moment a tight hold came upon your hair.

Easily Mark lifted you onto your knees and hands, fingers laced with your pretty tresses in a perfect hold he refused to let go of.

“Is that whore brain of yours too fucked out to follow simple instructions?“ His hips slammed against your ass, loud slaps that echoed throughout the room and bounced off the walls. Despite his question you couldn’t even think to answer, desperately trying to breath but only releasing rushed breaths and throat aching moans.

The man hissed, pulling you up and leaning down until he could see your face. You were ruined, cheeks reddened and eyes glossy, tears staining your features so perfectly the man could feel himself getting hard all over again.

“Answer me.”

You searched for the words, babbling nonsense for a complete second that caused Mark to grin, other hand lifting to grasp your chin and gently shaking your face— the only gentleness he’s shown you in the past hour.

“Don’t go dumb, use your fucking words—“

“I—i’m sorry! I won’t..” A particularly hard thrust had you see stars, nearly tumbling over if it wasn’t for his tight hold on you. A hand of yours rose, clinging to his wrist; fingers trailing the veins beneath his skin.

“I— won’t do it again! Fuck, Mark, please..!”

Mark seemed to be satisfied with your answer, given the way his lips practically slammed against your own, a messy kiss that left you even more breathless than before. Your teeth knocked against each other’s emitting harsh groans from the pain, a metallic taste filling your mouth shortly after. A mess of tongue, teeth, and lips— the only way Mark liked to kiss, his teeth sinking into your bottom lip to pull at, enjoying the way you whined so sweetly.

Hammering into you without a care, your second orgasm erupted from you so suddenly, causing you to break away to release a strangled cry of pleasure, head going slack you shook from the aftershocks.

Before you could go completely slump, the man was snatching you up in strong arms, keeping you tight against him.

“Nah.. don’t tap out on me just yet, sweetheart. Let’s see if I can fuck you back to sleep..”

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jinusajas · 4 months ago

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02/22/25; 09:32pm

{ 18 + drabbles / headcanons }

[ bedroom eyes ]

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel, caleb

[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]

the sensation of sylus’s large hand trailing up and down the length of your legs makes you shudder in response. he says your name, voice filled with reverence when it falls at the last syllable.

his touch was gentle, oh so gentle as he gently cups at the back of your neck. his featherlight touches makes your pulse quicken, the sweet anticipation felt coursing through your veins when you felt sylus wrap his arms beneath your form. he carries you away from the living room, trapping you within his gaze as you found yourself unable to look away from him.

eyes as bright at ruby gemstones slowly morph into endless voids of onyx, the darkness seeming to spread as evident of his desire for you. once you were back in the privacy of your room does he close and lock the door, the sound of the latch securing in place serving as evidence to what will transpire tonight.

you were placed against the plush mattress, your hands gripping at the silky sheets when sylus descends upon you, lips moving against yours when he forces your tongue in a seductive dance with him. your mind goes hazy, as if you had become hypnotized by the his gaze, not able to speak a single word when sylus sheds off the sheer material of your nightgown.

something about seeing your lover fully dressed while you remained utterly bare for him unlocked a primal need deep inside of you. your breasts felt sensitive to his every touch, goosebumps erupting in the wake of his reverent caresses against your skin. each gasp and soft mewl that escapes from your parted lips was met with an almost cocky expression from the onychinus leader-

for he knew that he was the only one who could make you fall apart for him like this.

your soft mewls turn into moans when sylus settles you on his lap, your naked body pressed against the expensive material of his suit. he lays you across his arms, lips already latching on to your chest when his tongue curls around the hardened bud of your nipple. with hands delving themselves into his silvery locks of hair, you shiver with need for him, feeling the way his teeth lightly grazes against your sensitive skin, the hedonistic sensation making the slick flood from your center.

as if detecting the sweet scent in the air, sylus releases the hardened bud from his mouth. his voice was now raspier, filled with need when he manages to press you back against the bed. your breathing becomes ragged, eyes glazed over when you felt your walls suddenly clench with need for him.

but you didn’t have to wait for long.

sylus hovers over you, spreading your legs while settling himself between your thighs. he takes in the sight of your center, moistened with the evidence of your arousal before pressing his lips against your heat. your moans echo throughout the room, feeling the wet muscle of sylus’s tongue intruding into you, as if wishing to devour everything you had to offer.

and when you saw how hungry his gaze was, you knew that you were in for a long night.

zayne could barely focus on his novel with you smiling and giggling so much beside him.

here he was, simply enjoying a peaceful night of reading in bed with you, yet all he could focus on were the sounds of your laughter. he takes a glance at your novel, assuming it was one of those cheesy romantic comedies in novel form-

and your laughter was just too sweet to ignore.

taking off his glasses, zayne knew that his eyes had considerably darkened, no longer able to focus on his own novel as he found something more desirable to do. he turns his attention to you, softly calling out your name so that you could meet his gaze.

with a hum, you close your own novel and smile back at him-

only to have your eyes widen in response when zayne surges forward, stealing your kiss in a breathtaking kiss. like a man starved for you, he keeps your head still, kissing you like you were his sole lifeline while slowly pressing you back against the bed.

when the need for air proved to be too much did zayne break away from the kiss first, hiding his face within the curve of your neck as he slides his hand down the waistband of your pajama pants. with a tiny smile, he places a kiss against your skin, hands tracing at the soft material of your panties before thrusting his fingers inside of your slick.

your hands were felt gripping at the sheets, panting while zayne worked his fingers in and out of your core. using your soft moans to further his own desires for you, zayne purposely collects your honeyed arousal against his fingertips, using them as lubricant to further travel inside of your center. giving your hardened bundle of nerves a gentle pinch, you could no longer hold back your climax, spilling yourself against his hand.

a rich chuckle was heard coming from your lover when he finally extracts his hand from your panties, his eyes admiring the shiny quality of his fingertips left by your release before placing them in his mouth, licking them clean one by one (never once looking away from you) as you trembled with need for him in response.

the movie you and xavier were currently watching plays on the screen. the plot was mildly interesting as you at your snacks while watching the film, dimly aware of your boyfriend’s movement from beside you.

yet you didn’t move your gaze away from the screen, simply assuming that he needed to use the restroom, or refill his own snacks in the kitchen. however, your expectations were shattered when you saw xavier kneeling in front of you, working on taking off your shorts.

“xavier, what are you-“

“ssh.” he interrupts you with a hiss, “don’t worry about what i’m doing and just focus on the screen.”

you purse your lips in response, your appetite lost as you did your best to focus on the film. the movie had become mere background noise for you now, with your senses heightened the moment you felt xavier pull down your shorts and panties in one swift motion.

the cool air felt against your skin causes numerous goosebumps to erupt, and upon feeling xavier’s slender fingers tracing at the outer lips of your cunt, your breathing hitches.

“don’t look, okay starlight?” with xavier’s last warning, you nearly jump upon feeling the sensation of his hot mouth against your slick heat, tongue traveling within your walls as you felt your arousal leak out of you in waves. your boyfriend was relentless when it came to tasting you, feeling his fingers and tongue working its magic as he drew out even more of your desperate and needy cries for him.

“ngh…! hah… hah…” your moans echo throughout the living room with xavier burying his face within your thighs, not even caring that you were suffocating him with how you had him practically clamped against you. the red hot pleasure felt coursing through your veins was all too much as your back arches against the couch, spilling yourself within xavier’s mouth just moments later.

with an audible grunt, xavier made sure to drink up all you had to offer, pressing one last kiss on your sensitive cunt before pulling up your panties and shorts. while you were left trembling (your panties still soaked from the evidence of your release), your hunter boyfriend acts like nothing had just transpired, sapphire blue eyes staring at the television while he drops a few popcorn within his mouth, not even looking at you while he chewed.

and as the movie continues to play, you began thinking of ways to get back at him for what he had done to you.

your fingers slowly move the new lip gloss across rafayel’s full lips, his beauty seeming to increase as his skin glowed in response to the new skincare routine you had started with him.

capping the gloss, you give him a pout, “it isn’t fair how much prettier you are compared to me, rafe.”

the young artist gives you an incredulous expression. “you can’t be serious, princess! you’re utterly gorgeous!”

you scoff upon hearing his compliment, giving his cheek a gentle poke. “please, it feels like you’re only dating me as some charity work.”

your words were only meant to be viewed as a joke, yet the annoyance in his gaze made you realize that your self deprecation only served to annoy him. “do you really think that way about yourself?”

before you could respond, rafayel moves you onto his lap, narrowing his gaze at you while burning with unbidden passion, “if that’s how you really feel, then i suppose it’s only my duty as your boyfriend to prove you wrong.”

he lays you back against the couch, tossing aside the cosmetic in your hand while slowly unbuttoning your blouse. your breath hitches when your front was revealed to him, feeling rafayel’s hand behind your back as he unclasps your bra. he whispers your name, biting against the shell of your ear while removing the fabric that once covers your chest.

soft lips were felt latching on to your shoulder, a trail of hot and wet kisses leaving you trembling in response. you bask in rafayel’s open show of worshipping you, waiting with bated breath when his kisses were felt trailing down your collars before landing at your breast.

he takes a nipple into his mouth, lightly biting down against it as you cried out to him. the sensation of his tongue and teeth curled and biting on your sensitive skin causes a wave of need to course through you, making you feel how damp your panties had gotten in response to his ministrations.

“i’m going to make sure to kiss every inch of your skin, princess.” he murmurs against your heaving breasts, pressing another wet kiss against it before continuing, “so you better be prepared for this… since i have no plans of stopping anytime soon.”

“w-what did you just tell me to do, caleb?”

you truly thought that you were hearing things, yet the seductive gaze seen within the colonel’s eyes was undeniable-

and you found yourself becoming weak to such a hedonistic gaze.

caleb simply shakes his head in response all while licking his lips, “i think you heard me just fine, babe. i want you to ride my face.”

you were shaking now, feeling a strange surge of desire coursing through you. your walls clench in response to his heated command, and embarrassingly enough-

you could already feel the moisture staining at the front of your panties.

as if reading your thoughts, caleb’s gaze darkens, refusing to hear your weak protests when he takes your wrist and leads you back into the bedroom. tossing aside his shirt and pants, caleb purposely leaves his boxers on, the considerable tent settled against the fabric serving as evidence to how much he wanted this-

to how much he wanted you.

and with his body on full display for you, you felt every bit of your inhibitions melting away. letting out a shuddering breath of caleb’s name (tone filled with need for him), you slowly take off your own clothes-

“panties too, baby. i want to taste every inch of you.”

a shiver of pleasure runs down your spine, and you step out of your skirt and panties, kicking them aside before climbing onto the bed with caleb. you meet his gaze, seeing the adoration in his eyes when you lean down to kiss him. as if running on instinct, his lips perfectly slot against yours, tongues tangled up in a familiar dance as you both moan into the kiss.

when the need for air was too much, caleb pulls away from the kiss first, snapping his fingers as he pointed at his face, “you know what to do, babygirl. get on my face, let me make you feel good while tasting you.”

heat was settled against your cheeks, with you giving caleb a final nod before crawling towards his head. you place your legs on both sides of his face, your cunt clenching while hovering over him as you tried to ignore the embarrassment you felt at what you were about to do.

yet your hesitation only serves to make caleb impatient for you when he suddenly grips at your waist before bringing you down on his face. the sensation of his tongue moving even further within your heat makes you cry out to him. the palms of your hands were planted on the mattress, your nails gripping at the sheets settled below you.

you felt caleb’s tongue thrust with a desperation in and out of your slick walls, and he was reaching so deep inside of you that you found your hips grinding into his face. the moans that spill from your parted lips were nothing short of pornographic, and you were certain that the whole world would be able to hear just how good caleb was making you feel.

and when you thought it couldn’t get any better-

caleb manages to curl his tongue around your swollen clit, giving it a harsh suck as it manages to tilt you over the edge, with you spilling yourself into caleb’s awaiting mouth, thighs tightening around his head. your back arches while you wildly rode out your orgasm, moving your hips back and forth on caleb’s face, your nails nearly ripping apart the sheets from the sheer intensity of your release.

once you were certain you had emptied yourself into caleb did you gasp, finally realizing that you were practically suffocating him. you immediately spread your thighs and remove your cunt from his mouth-

only to see the lovesick and flushed expression on caleb’s face, letting you know that he has enjoyed this experience as much as you had. letting out a relieved sigh, you move down his muscular body and gently pull down the waistband of his boxers. his breathing hitches in response, watching you with hungry eyes when you revealed his erection to you.

you stroke him a few times, using his precum to further lubricate his shaft before sliding your slick heat down every inch of him. setting a steady pace, the bed bounces in tune to your movements-

with you thinking that this was the best way to thank your boyfriend for the mind-blowing climax he had just gifted to you ♡

end notes: unedited, but i felt inspired so please do enjoy this thirst post 🙂‍↕️ also yes, that is sousuke aizen as my banner, the daddiest of them all in bleach.

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

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yourlocalalternate · 2 years ago

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Microwave

#the mandela catalogue #tmc #the alternate creates #the mandela catalogue memes #tmc memes #cesar torres #mark heathcliff #mark plush #cesar plush #preacher plush #intruder plush #tmc intruder #tmc preacher

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intruder-time · 2 years ago

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A new horrible little friend

#They are both so ugly I love them #Intruder plush #plushia #The mandela catalogue #tmc #tmc intruder #ghost the band #the band ghost #ghost band #papa copia #papa emeritus iv

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morsobaby · 2 years ago

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Need more plush content in my life tbh

#my thoughts #There's only so many plush blogs I've found #Like. The issues come from many of them being focused on kid friendliness #And I don't wanna intrude on them with my main bc I know I also rb and make alot of like. Horror stuff and so on #I've briefly considered making my own plush sideblog but I think I have too many sideblogs to manage rn #And I also don't wanna delete any of them

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beloveds-embrace · 6 months ago

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(poly 141 x sick!reader)

The sound of rain pattered against the windows, soft and soothing, but it wasn’t enough to drown out the ache in your chest. The medication was doing its best, but there was only so much it could do when your body seemed determined to work against you.

You coughed softly into your sleeve, hating the weak tremor that followed. The plush comforter was tucked up to your chin, but warmth still felt just out of reach. Your parents had hired the team months ago after receiving one too many threats, and while you had initially bristled at the idea of four men shadowing your every step, you’d quickly grown accustomed to their presence.

It was hard not to.

Captain Price had a steady, grounding aura that made you feel safer just by being near him. Ghost was quieter, more intense, but he’d surprised you with unexpected softness when he thought no one was looking. Soap’s humor had carved through your anxieties more times than you could count, and Gaz- Gaz was the one who always made sure you ate, drank water, and had everything you needed before you even realized you needed it.

They made you feel protected.

But tonight, even their presence couldn’t completely chase away the unease creeping up your spine.

“Not sleeping, love?”

Price’s voice startled you, and you turned toward the door to see him leaning against the frame, arms crossed but eyes soft. He stepped inside, his boots surprisingly quiet on the polished floor, and came to kneel beside your bed.

“Sorry,” you murmured, feeling guilt curl in your chest. “Didn’t mean to keep you up.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, brushing his knuckles against your forehead to check for fever. “You know we don’t sleep unless you do.”

Before you could reply, a soft knock came at the door, and Soap poked his head in, carrying a cup of tea that was no doubt brewed exactly the way you liked it.

“You’re awake,” he said with a grin, stepping inside and offering you the mug. “Figured you might need this.”

You took it gratefully, inhaling the scent of chamomile and honey. “You don’t have to keep fussing over me,” you said, though the words lacked any real bite.

Gaz wandered in next before they could reply to you, holding the blanket you liked most. “Yeah, we do,” he countered easily. “Doctor’s orders, remember?”

Ghost was the last to arrive, silent as always, but he lingered closest to the door like a sentinel. Even with his mask that once scared you, you could see the way his eyes softened when they landed on you.

The four of them surrounded you, and despite the lingering ache in your bones, you felt safe.

You set the mug down once it was half-empty, already feeling your eyelids grow heavier. Price pulled the blanket up higher, tucking it around you like he had so many times before.

“Close your eyes.” He murmured.

“I don’t want to-”

“You’re safe,” Ghost said quietly, his voice a low rumble that you felt more than heard. “We’ll be here.”

It was hard to fight the pull of sleep when all four of them were so close, their combined presence lulling you into something warm and soft and safe. You let your eyes drift shut, your breathing slowing as the tea worked its magic.

They stayed until they were sure you were asleep.

The first noise was subtle.

Ghost’s head snapped up, and Price immediately rose from his spot beside the bed. Soap and Gaz exchanged a glance, already moving toward the door without a word.

It wasn’t the first time someone had tried to get inside. And it wouldn’t be the last.

Price leaned down, pressing a hand against your shoulder when you stirred faintly. “Stay asleep, love.” He whispered before following the others out.

The house was dark, but that didn’t slow them down. Ghost moved like a shadow, his knife already drawn as he signaled to Soap. They caught the first man before he even had the chance to react.

Gaz was quieter, slipping down the hall and cutting off the second intruder’s escape route. The scuffle was quick, brutal, and over in seconds.

Price handled the last one himself. The man barely had time to raise his weapon before Price’s fist collided with his jaw, sending him sprawling to the floor.

“Clear.” Ghost murmured, wiping his knife clean on the intruder’s jacket.

Soap crouched down, checking for identification, and then sighing when he found it. “Same group as last time.”

Price cursed under his breath, already reaching for his phone to call the cleanup team and your parents.

“They won’t make it upstairs.” Gaz said, voice steady despite the adrenaline still thrumming through his veins.

“They never will.” Ghost added, tone final.

They worked quickly, dragging the bodies out the back while Soap wiped down any lingering traces of blood. By the time they returned to your room, the house was silent again.

You woke to find the bed empty and the dim glow of the hallway light bleeding under the door.

Pushing back the covers, you slipped out of bed and padded toward the stairs. You weren’t sure what you expected to find- maybe one of them sitting at the kitchen table or keeping watch by the windows- but instead, you were met with Price coming up the steps.

“Hey,” you said softly, rubbing your eyes.

He froze for a split second before schooling his features into something softer, too fast for your mind or eyes to catch. “What are you doing out of bed, love? You need your rest.”

“Couldn’t sleep, John.” You admitted, hugging your arms around yourself. A tremor goes through you, the warmth from your bed and blankets ebbing away slowly.

Gaz appeared behind him, stepping around to stand in front of you. “You’re supposed to be resting, dovie. Come on.” He repeated, gently taking your hand and guiding you back toward the bedroom.

“Why were you all up?” you asked, glancing between them with a concerned. “It’s too late for all of you, no? I know you work in shifts but today wasn’t like that…”

Soap appeared next, a towel slung over his shoulder. “Routine check,” he said smoothly, face softening when he looked at you. “Jus’ making sure everything’s locked up. Yer so sweet, hen, but we know how ta do our jobs, dinna worry yer pretty head.”

“Again?”

“Can’t be too careful,” Price said, his hand resting lightly on your back as they guided you back to bed.

Ghost slipped back into the room last, silent as ever, though his eyes softened the moment they landed on you. He didn’t speak right away, just took a long, careful look as if reassuring himself that you were still there- still safe. Finally, he stepped closer, his voice low and steady as he said, “Back under the covers, love.”

You didn’t fight him. You never did. Not with them.

The bed was warm, the blankets heavier now as Gaz tugged them up higher, making sure you were fully tucked in. Soap lingered by the nightstand, placing the freshly cleaned mug of tea from earlier far away enough even if you moved in your sleep, it wouldn’t fall off.

“Try again,” Price murmured, lowering himself to sit beside you. His calloused fingers brushed your hair back, slow and gentle, lingering for just a moment longer than necessary. “You’ll feel better in the morning.”

You blinked up at him, tired but trusting. You still didn’t know when exactly it had happened- when you’d stopped flinching at the closeness, stopped second-guessing the comfort they so freely gave. But you’d never regretted letting them in.

Not when it felt like this.

“We’re right here.” Price added, his voice a quiet promise, and you felt the words settle deep, anchoring you.

Soap crouched at the side of the bed, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off of him. “Sweet dreams, bonnie.” He said with a grin, though his voice was soft enough to soothe the lingering tension in your chest.

Gaz gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze, his thumb brushing lightly over the blanket. “We’ve got you.”

Ghost stayed by the door, his sharp gaze fixed on the windows before flickering back to you. He didn’t move until your breathing evened out, waiting for the rise and fall of your chest to settle into something steady. Only then did he step out, closing the door with deliberate care.

But even once the door was shut, he lingered in the hall, his fingers resting on the handle as if to reassure himself that he could open it in an instant if you needed him. He waited, just to be sure, before finally moving away.

“She’s sleeping,” he murmured once he joined the others downstairs. His voice was quieter than usual. “Checked her breathing- still steady.”

“She needs rest,” Gaz said, though the tension in his shoulders didn’t ease. “Nights like these don’t help.”

“They won’t happen again.” Ghost said, firm and low

Soap exhaled sharply, rubbing at his jaw with the rag he’d been using to wipe his hands clean. “She disnnae need ta know.” he murmured, the words heavier than the rest.

“No,” Ghost agreed, his voice low but certain. “All she should have to worry about is resting.”

Gaz leaned against the wall, his arms crossed but his eyes lingering on the stairs. “She’s safe,” softly, he spoke. “That’s all that matters.”

And they all nodded in quiet agreement.

Ghost checked the locks one last time, Price double-checked the security feeds, and Soap peered through the curtains before returning to his spot near the stairwell. Gaz made another sweep of the house, moving silently through the dark before settling in by the living room window.

The rain picked up outside, heavier now, but inside the house, the warmth lingered. It was safe. Quiet. What you needed, and what your parents had hired them to ensure for you.

And upstairs, you slept soundly- soft breaths filling the room, wrapped in blankets that smelled faintly of fresh laundry and tea, surrounded by the presence of men who would tear apart anyone who dared to disturb you.

Sheltered in their arms, you never even stirred.

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