#(i just wanted to turn this into a thread...i want to do more with them~)

[kikimurphys]

The Wrap Party (Part Two)

Pairing: Cillian x Reader

Warnings: Smut

Sumary: A casual night with friends takes an unexpected turn when Y/N finds herself alone with Cillian Murphy.

When his calves brushed the edge of the bed, he gently laid you down, the soft fabric of your underwear the only thing left between your body and his gaze. He paused for a moment, his eyes devouring the sight of you, splayed out beneath him, vulnerable yet powerful in your own sensuality. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispered, his voice thick with awe and desire.

His hands went to the waistband of his trousers, tugging them down, leaving only his boxers. The clear outline of his cock strained beneath the fabric, and your pulse quickened at the sight. Before he could make another move, you sat up, arms wrapping around him as you pulled him down into a fierce, hungry kiss. His fingers threaded through your hair, trailing down your back at an agonizingly slow pace that made you whimper with need.

His hands reached for the clasp of your bra, and with one fluid motion, it was undone, the delicate fabric slipping away from your skin. His lips never left yours, his kisses growing more possessive, his hand sliding to your neck in a gentle hold, his thumb caressing the sensitive skin there.

"God, I want you," you breathed against his lips, your voice a low, needy whisper as his other hand found your nipple, teasing and tugging it just right, making you arch into his touch. His groans rumbled through his chest, mixing with your soft moans as you melted further into him, the ache between your thighs growing unbearable.

Your fingers trailed down his toned torso, grazing the waistband of his boxers before you began to slide them down. You pulled the fabric down slowly, your eyes locked on his as you exposed him. The sight of his cock had you biting your lip, a low moan escaping as you admired his size, the thought of him inside you making your body thrum with anticipation.

You licked your lips, eyes dark with lust as you glanced back up at him, meeting his gaze. His hand gripped your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. He kissed you with a hunger that matched your own, his lips demanding, and you responded in kind, your hand wrapping around him. You began to pump him slowly, teasing him, and he groaned into your mouth, the sound sending a thrill through you.

"Cillian," you breathed against his lips, voice dripping with desire, teasing him as your hand slowly worked up and down his length. "Do you want your cock in my mouth?"

His eyes fluttered shut, his breath ragged as he fought to keep control, but your words shattered what little restraint he had left. "Fuck... yes," he whispered, his voice hoarse. His fingers traced your face, then down to your neck, tender and gentle, contrasting with the raw need building between you. He wasn’t used to this, to being at someone else’s mercy. Normally, he liked to be the one in control, taking charge, making a woman completely unravel beneath him. But you—God, you were undoing him without even trying.

“You do?” you asked with an innocent pout, your tone a stark contrast to the sinful grin curling on your lips. You kissed his jaw, then nibbled on his earlobe, enjoying how he groaned in response. His hips jerked forward in your hand, desperate for more friction, but you kept your pace slow, almost torturous, thumb circling the head of his cock, teasing the beads of precum dripping from him.

"Yeah," he breathed out, his hips betraying his need as they sought more of your touch. His fingers clenched at your shoulders, his grip tight but trembling with restraint.

“Do you want my mouth wrapped around you?” you whispered directly into his ear, the wicked smile on your lips barely contained as you let your words linger in the thick air between you.

The groan that left his mouth was low and needy, his control hanging by a thread. With a growl of frustration, he grabbed your shoulders, pushing you down to your knees, his impatience finally snapping. You giggled softly, reveling in how badly you’d worked him up, before looking up at him with those dark, lust-filled eyes.

Your lips parted, and you took him into your mouth slowly, savoring the way his cock twitched at your touch. His head fell back, a deep groan rumbling through his chest as he felt the warmth of your mouth envelop him. You started slow, your tongue swirling around the tip before taking him deeper, hollowing your cheeks as you set a steady rhythm.

Cillian’s hands found their way to your hair, tangling in the strands as he guided your head, his hips pushing forward slightly, testing how much you could take. “Fuck… just like that,” he groaned, his grip tightening as you took more of him, your gag reflex barely kicking in as you relaxed your throat.

His fingers tightened in your hair, pulling you closer as his hips began to thrust, the sensation of your mouth driving him wild. He started to take control, his cock sliding deeper into your throat as he thrust forward, slowly at first, testing your limits. But as your eyes fluttered closed and you moaned around him, the vibration pushing him closer to the edge, he couldn’t hold back.

“God, you look so good like this,” he growled, his voice thick with lust as he fucked your mouth with increasing intensity. Your eyes were tearing, your jaw aching, but you didn’t care. The sight of him, his cock sliding in and out of your mouth, turned you on so much it made the heat between your legs almost unbearable. The wetness in your knickers only added to the tension, and you started rubbing slow circles with your palm over the soaked fabric, trying to relieve the ache that was building inside you.

His hips snapped forward again, his thrusts growing more erratic as his cock slid deeper into your throat, filling your mouth with every stroke. His breathing grew heavier, ragged, punctuated by deep groans and words of praise that only spurred you on. Your hands gripped his thighs for stability as he took control, guiding you to take him exactly how he wanted. Each time he groaned your name, the more you needed him.

You could feel him getting closer with every thrust, his cock twitching inside your mouth, the tension building rapidly. “I’m gonna cum,” he warned, his voice strained, as he tightened his grip in your hair, his hips jerking with need. His pace became erratic, desperate. His cock pulsed against your tongue, and you knew he was right on the edge, so close to falling over.

Pulling back slightly, you pumped him slowly with your hand, licking your lips. “Come in my mouth,” you whispered, your voice a breathy plea. “Please.” The desperation in your voice was all it took to push him over. With a rough groan, he grabbed the back of your head, pulling you forward onto his cock as he thrust into your mouth a few more times, his body shuddering as he came.

His warm seed filled your mouth, thick and hot, and you struggled to swallow all of it, not wanting to waste a drop. You sucked him clean, milking him dry until he had nothing left to give, the taste of him still lingering on your tongue as you pulled back, releasing him with a soft pop.

You swallowed it all, licking your lips with a satisfied smile as you looked up at him. Cillian's grip on your hair loosened as his ragged breathing began to slow, but his eyes, dark and full of hunger, stayed locked on yours. He looked completely wrecked, his body trembling from the intensity of his release, yet you could tell he wasn’t done with you.

“Come here,” he commanded, his voice thick with lust, pulling you up by your arms. He grabbed your face, his kiss urgent yet tender, his tongue sliding into your mouth as he tasted himself on your lips. “You’re so perfect,” he whispered, his breath warm against your lips before kissing you again, deeper this time.

With a soft moan, you let him guide you back onto the bed, your body melting under his touch. His lips never left yours as you lay down, and soon, he began trailing soft kisses down your jaw, your neck, and then your chest, his mouth lingering on your sensitive nipples, drawing a whimper from you. His hand caressed your breast as his mouth worked on the other, slow and teasing, making you arch into him.

His kisses traveled lower, down your stomach, sending shivers through you with each inch of skin he touched. He stopped at your navel, swirling his tongue around it, the sensation driving you wild. You instinctively tried to close your legs, the anticipation unbearable, but he spread them gently, placing a hand on each of your thighs to hold you open for him.

Cillian kissed along your hips, his lips feather-light, teasing the sensitive skin there, but never where you wanted him most. When he reached the waistband of your knickers, he hooked his fingers under the fabric and slowly pulled them down, his lips leaving a trail of hot kisses along your thighs as he went. Every touch of his mouth made you ache for him, the heat between your legs growing unbearable.

He positioned himself between your thighs, his face hovering just above your aching core. You were open for him, your body trembling with need, but he didn’t dive in right away. Instead, he kissed the inside of your thighs, his hands caressing the sensitive skin there, his touch light and teasing.

As his lips brushed teasingly along your inner thighs, your body reacted instinctively, hips bucking slightly toward him. You were desperate for more contact, more friction, anything to relieve the pressure building inside you.

“Cillian,” you whimpered, your voice strained with need, but all you got in response was that devilish smirk of his. His mouth hovered just above your core, his breath hot against your skin as his fingers traced lightly over your folds. You shuddered as his thumb brushed your swollen clit, barely a touch, but enough to drive you wild.

“Fuck, you're dripping,” he murmured with a wicked smile, his fingers gliding through your wetness. “I can’t wait to taste you.” His tone was low and rough, full of raw lust. You could feel the heat pooling between your legs, desperate for his mouth, but instead, he slid one finger inside you, pumping slowly, lazily, as if testing your patience.

Your back arched involuntarily as he curled his finger inside you, hitting that sweet spot with perfect precision. But it wasn’t enough.

“Please,” you moaned, your voice breathy and needy. Your hands moved up to your breasts, desperate for some sort of relief as you pinched your nipples, but it wasn’t the same as his touch.

“Please what?” Cillian teased, adding another finger as he curled them upward, stroking that spot that made your legs shake. You whimpered, gripping the bed sheets tightly as he continued to work you over, slowly building you up until you were on the verge of begging.

“Please… make me cum,” you gasped, the desperation evident in your voice.

“Well, that would be my pleasure,” he replied nonchalantly, but the look in his eyes was anything but casual. He dipped his head down, his lips finally making contact with your aching clit as his fingers continued their relentless rhythm inside you.

The teasing smirk on his lips was replaced by something more primal as he licked you with expert precision, his tongue flicking against your swollen clit while his fingers stroked your inner walls. Your body reacted instantly, hips bucking toward his mouth as you let out a soft chuckle, overwhelmed by the sensation.

That chuckle quickly turned into a moan as his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking gently before flicking his tongue against it again, sending waves of pleasure through your body. Your hands found their way into his hair, pulling him closer as your hips ground against his face. You couldn’t get enough of him, the sight of him between your legs, his mouth devouring you, his eyes dark with lust as he looked up at you.

“Fuck, Cillian,” you gasped, your body writhing beneath him as his hand traveled from your thigh to your breast, kneading the sensitive flesh, making your back arch off the bed. His tongue was relentless, licking and sucking at your clit as he drove you closer and closer to the edge.

Just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, he slipped his fingers back inside you, pumping in and out with a steady rhythm that had your legs shaking. He knew exactly where to touch, where to tease, pushing you right to the brink without letting you fall over.

You were gasping for air, the heat building inside you unbearable as your fingers tangled in his hair. “Please, don’t stop,” you moaned, your voice barely a whisper as you felt your release approaching.

His response was to suck harder on your clit, his fingers stroking that perfect spot inside you with just the right amount of pressure. You could feel your orgasm building, your body tightening as your hips bucked against his mouth, desperate for release.

And then, just as you were about to tip over the edge, he pulled his fingers out of you, replacing them with his tongue. He licked you deeply, drinking in your wetness as he groaned against your core. His other hand reached up to your mouth, slipping two fingers past your lips. You sucked on them greedily, tasting yourself on his skin as your body trembled beneath him.

It was too much. The combination of his tongue on your clit, his fingers in your mouth, and the sight of him between your legs was enough to send you spiraling into ecstasy. You came hard, your arousal gushing into his mouth as your entire body shook with the force of your orgasm.

But Cillian didn’t stop. He licked and sucked at you greedily, drawing out every last drop of pleasure until you were a trembling, whimpering mess beneath him. You could barely catch your breath as he kissed his way back up your body, his lips hot and insistent against your skin.

Before you could recover, he was kissing you again, his tongue sliding into your mouth, making you taste yourself on his lips. The kiss was hungry, desperate, as if he couldn’t get enough of you, and you moaned into his mouth, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively.

You could feel the hardness of his cock pressing against your still-sensitive core, and you whimpered, your body aching for him. Cillian groaned softly as he ran the tip of his cock up and down your slick slit, teasing you, making you tremble with anticipation.

He broke the kiss, sitting up slightly to look down at you. The sight of you spread out beneath him, flushed and panting, was almost enough to undo him. He tapped the head of his cock against your clit, and you screamed, the sensation almost too much after everything he’d just done to you.

“Fuck, you’re so sensitive,” he growled, his voice thick with desire. He could see how desperate you were for him, but he wasn’t going to make it easy. He wanted to savor this, to take his time.

“Please… fuck me already!” you demanded, your voice raw with need. You were completely at his mercy, your body aching for him to finally take you, but he just laughed softly, the sound full of cocky satisfaction.

“You’re so fucking beautiful like this,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss you again as he finally, finally entered you with one hard thrust. You both groaned, the sensation overwhelming as he stretched you, filling you completely.

His pace was slow at first, deliberate, as if he wanted to feel every inch of you. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he hissed, his hands running up your body, admiring every curve, every freckle. You couldn’t take your eyes off him, the way his muscles rippled with each thrust, the way his hair fell messily across his forehead.

He picked up the pace, thrusting deeper into you, his movements becoming more urgent. He grabbed both your wrists, pinning them above your head with one hand, while the other hooked your leg over his shoulder, allowing him to go even deeper.

“Cillian… oh, fuck,” you gasped, your body tightening around him as he thrust into you harder, faster. The angle was perfect, each thrust hitting that spot deep inside you that made your legs tremble. “you're so big!” you breathed out, loving the way he was stretching you, unlike any man before.

He released your wrists, leaning down to kiss you again, his lips hot and demanding as he pushed deeper inside you, both of your legs now resting on his shoulders. His thrusts grew more urgent, each one sending a jolt of pleasure through your body, and you couldn’t hold back the moans spilling from your lips. Your nails scraped down his back, leaving red marks in your wake, urging him on.

“You feel so fucking good,” he groaned, his voice thick with desire as he pounded into you with a frenzied rhythm. “Y/N…” he rasped, his breath coming out in heavy gasps. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum soon…”

You smiled through the haze of pleasure, teasing him even as you teetered on the edge of your own climax. “Yeah?” you whispered, your voice laced with playful heat. His only response was a desperate nod as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, biting and kissing at your skin, marking you.

“Cum inside me,” you begged breathlessly, your hips bucking to meet his frantic thrusts. “Please, Cillian.”

Your words were his undoing. With a guttural groan, he lost control, driving into you hard a few more times before he exploded inside you, his cock twitching as he filled you with his release. The sensation of his warmth spreading inside you pushed you over the edge as well. Your body clenched around him, pulling every last drop from him as you cried out in pleasure.

His groans mixed with your moans as his cum shot deep inside you, strand after strand, filling you until you felt completely full. The sensation left you feeling whole, completely connected to him in a way that felt profound and undeniable. The intensity of it all left you breathless, trembling beneath him as waves of ecstasy rolled through your body.

As the last of his orgasm pulsed through him, Cillian collapsed onto you, his breathing heavy and ragged. You both lay there, wrapped in each other’s arms, bodies slick with sweat and hearts racing as you slowly came down from the high. His lips were soft and tender now as he peppered kisses along your shoulder, his fingers tracing lazy patterns across your skin.

You closed your eyes, letting yourself relax in the warmth of his embrace. Everything felt peaceful, like you were exactly where you were meant to be—right here, in his arms, connected in every way.

-

A bright ray of sunshine hit your eyes, making you flinch as you tried to open them. Groaning, you turned over, feeling a wave of dizziness wash over you. Your throat was dry, and your mouth felt parched, each swallow uncomfortable. With a sigh, you grabbed the pillow and pulled it over your head, trying to escape the light and shake off the grogginess that clouded your mind.

Your body felt sore, like you’d been through some grueling full-body workout, every muscle aching in ways that didn’t make sense. As you shifted under the covers, the sheets brushed against your bare skin, and that’s when it hit you—you were naked.

Wait… what?

Confused, you lifted the pillow slightly, squinting in the morning light. That’s when you saw him.

Your heart skipped a beat. There he was, lying next to you—Cillian. His chest rose and fell with each deep breath, the soft sunlight highlighting his features, making him look even more striking than usual. His dark lashes rested against his cheeks, and his tousled hair framed his face perfectly. He looked... peaceful, beautiful even, lying there in your bed.

You quickly ducked back under the pillow, heart racing, your mind whirling as you tried to process what was happening. “Oh my God,” you thought. “Cillian Murphy is in my bed. Naked!”

Fragments of last night began to flood back, and you groaned inwardly as the memories pieced themselves together. The party, the drinks, the effortless conversation that had lasted for hours. You'd felt an instant connection with him—something more than just a casual chat. The teasing, the glances, the flirtation that had built between you like an electric current. You had invited him back to your place, half-joking, never thinking it would actually lead to anything.

But then, one thing had led to another—your flirting, his gentle touch, the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the room. And now, here you were, tangled in sheets with the very person you'd admired for so long.

Your stomach fluttered nervously. What now?

tags:

@mamawiggers1980 @xsweetcatastrophe @galactict3a @thistheivyseason @cillianmurphyvevo @sweetcheesecakesblog

[trashland-llamas]

Mother-Hen

x gender neutral! reader

Reader who has those over the top mother-hen vibes colliding with the grumpy asshole that is Logan Howlett. Who at first avoids Reader like the plague. Growling out how he wants nothing to do with them. To which they don't take any of it to heart, having done this dance a dozen times over.

Seeing it for it was. He didn't want anyone to get close as it meant caring and if he cared about someone, it could then be used against him. And that was simply more unnecessary heartbreak to drown in a bottle of whiskey over. Oh, but it doesn't stop Reader from bulldozing that down.

It all starts when Logan brings a relatively new mutant down to their room instead of the infirmary after a group mission. 'Scared of hospitals and the like. You were the next best thing,' he gruffs out. Seeing the extent of the injuries from how torn up the mutant's clothes are, Reader clears the table, grabbing their first aid kit. Logan laid them down.

Watching from the sidelines as Reader prepares a needle and thread, stitching the mutant's skin together. 'Your turn,' Reader wets a rag to get rid of the dried blood around Logan's already healed wounds. 'I can do that myself.' Too tired to fight against it altogether, Logan takes the rag. 'Thank you, now go. I'll watch over the kiddo.' Their foot now in the door. Letting him leave to the shadows.

The next time they cross paths is late at night when Logan’s abruptly awoken by a nightmare. Deciding to go take a ride on his motorbike when he smells spices in the air. His nose leads him to the kitchen where he sees Reader cooking up a large pot of soup. Their hair tied up into a lump, resting on the nape of their neck. Sleeves rolled up as they chopped vegetables and chicken to go into the broth. The sick season was close upon them.

'Why are you still up, cooking soup?' Logan spoke up after leaning against the wall, his tone accusatory. 'Because of how often everyone forgets to eat. Plus sometimes after missions, it's nice to have something you can just heat up.' Reader answers, watching out of the corner of their eyes as Logan sits down.

'Not to pry, but what's keeping you up?' They had always thought he had a weariness to his bones, outside of the added adamantium. ‘Couldn’t sleep,’ comes his short reply. Not really wanting to talk about it. ‘Touchy subject, got it. Well, you can stay if you like and I can dish you out a bowl when it’s ready. Need someone as a taste tester anyways.’

Logan doesn't respond but ultimately stays, the coziness of the kitchen was better than how he'd feel, standing alone, under the stars. Genuinely desiring company for once; Reader's company.

'Here you go,' pushing a bowl towards him. 'Thanks,' not bothering to blow on the still hot soup. Reader nods, going back to packaging the soup in deli containers. Moving stuff in the fridge around to make room. Logan, after finishing his bowl, takes up the mantle of cleaning the dishes.

Waving away Reader's 'oh, you don't have to do that.' Saying that he wanted to. That and his calloused hands were accustomed to manual labor. It was the least he could do in exchange for some well cooked food, as shown by the grin on his face.

Logan realizes they’ve wormed their way into his heart when he finds them passed out cold on the couch in the common room. Chuffed that at the very least, Reader seemed to have been taking a moment of relaxation for themselves. The battered old tome he had lent to them had fallen to the ground mid-reading.

Their neck at an awkward angle that would definitely hurt in the morning. ‘Really got yourself into a pickle here.’ Taking a minute to argue with himself, running the pros and cons of what he was about to do. Cause yes, he could simply toss a blanket over them and call it a day yet his gut was telling him that wasn’t enough.

‘C’mon, wake up bubs.’ Jostling them by the shoulders, helping them up to a standing position as they’re still half asleep and groggy. ‘Logan?’ Hands guiding them by the shoulders. ‘Yea, it’s me.’

Not realizing in their state that Logan was guiding them towards his room and not theirs. That is until they see all the Americana type decor. ‘What are we doing in your room?’

‘Was closer…the common room’s no place to get sleep with all the busybodies trudging in and out. That and your neck looked like it was killing you.’ Explaining like it was obvious. Sitting on his usual side of the bed, Logan held up the duvet. A silent way of telling Reader to get in.

Too tired to argue with how homy the atmosphere is, they oblige. Climbing over to rest their head on Logan’s chest. His heartbeat easily lulls them back to sleep.

[ssailormoonn]

❛ I'VE GOT YOU ❜

Uchiha Itachi X Fem!Reader

WC; 1.8k+ | !MDNI! | TW/CW :: x fem reader, oral -> female recieving, reader is feeling a lil sad and itachi makes her feel better, ofc don't do this irl (if smo is feeling down the solution is sex, bc no it is not, this is purely fictional)

˚ ༘ * 𝑅𝐸𝒬𝒰𝐸𝒮𝒯 :: (filled request) hii hope you’re well! can i request itachi x fem or gn reader comfort sex? i need him so bad rn it’s not even funny - ANON

m.list | naruto/boruto m.list | uchiha m.list

You get home to your apartment and you see your man in the kitchen, seems like he just came to see you because he was still donned in his Akatsuki cloak.

"Itachi," you whispered.

"It's late," his voice was soft, concern laced in his words, he must have realised that you had come home from work later than usual.

You didn't have a good day, not at all.

You sink into the couch, your body against the plushness of the cushions. You feel the couch shift as he sits beside you, his cloak discarded to only grey pants and a shirt underneath. For a moment, there was no speaking. He didn't push, didn't ask what was wrong. He just knew when to give you space.

You tried to steady your breathing, but when he sat down beside you, you let it go. Your shoulders shook and a choked sob escaped before you could stop it. Your cheeks streamed with tears as the weight of the day crashed on you all at once.

Itachi leaned in closer without a word. His hand reached out and lay against your back, reassuring in its touch. Warm fingers mapped slow, comforting circles across your back as he let you cry.

"You don't have to explain," he said softly-barely more than a whisper above silent. "I'm here."

His words snapped something in you, and then you knew you had turned into him, burying your face in his chest. His shirt felt cool against your skin, while his body was warm. You clung to him, your hands clutching the material of his shirt, as your sobs wet the cloth. He held you tightly, yet tenderly, never once drawing away.

"You're allowed to feel this," Itachi whispered some time later, his lips brushing against the top of your head. "You don't have to be strong all the time."

His arms wrapped more closely around you, his fingers threading softly through your hair. You could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest, the beat of his heart beating now to the same speeed as yours. He pressed his chin against the top of your head.

After a few minutes of this, your sobs finally died down and left you with deep exhaustion. You just remained there, tucked against him, not wanting to move yet.

"Itachi." you whispered, your head rising just slightly so you could look up at him. His eyes met yours, deep, dark eyes that always seemed to understand you in ways no one else did.

His hand brushed against your cheek, wiping away one errant tear with the pad of his thumb. He leaves his hand there long enough that your breathing hitches a bit, a warmth starting to build in your chest. His fingers trace along your jawline-soft, unhurried.

You leaned into his hand, closing your eyes for a moment as one let the sensation wash over him. The light caress of his fingertips danced down your back; a soft shiver overspread you, and opening your eyes again, you found him watching you, his gaze steady yet deeper with something that quickened the beat of your heart.

His forehead finally came to rest against yours. His breathing grazed your lips, and your heart was racing with the thought of how much closer the distance between them was getting. His hand tracing around your cheek a moment before now made its way down to rest on your neck. His thumb lightly brushed over the sensitive pulse point of your neck. The simple touch sent shivers across your skin, and you swallowed hard while trying to steady your breathing.

"Itachi...", you whispered lowly.

His hand on your neck tightened infinitesimally, his other arm wrapping around your waist as he tugged you closer to him-you felt the firm warmth of his body through his shirt.

"Itachi," you said again, but with a lot more purpose this time as your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt and you looked up at him, searching eyes for what came next. There was something magnetic in the way he looked at you; his silence a great deal more than any words.

He leaned in toward me, his lips barely touching mine-light as a whisper-but to his nerves, it was a raging fire. It seemed he waited, tested the waters gave one the chance to retreat if so wished-but I did not. That light teasing touch from his lips had sent a surge of heat through me, and before I knew it, I leaned the rest of the way in, closing the gap completely.

The kiss was slow, deliberate. His lips danced against yours, leaving you out of breath, his hand on your neck guiding you with ease. It was as if the world melted away and, in its place, there was only the two of you.

His heart rate showed in the clutch of fingers that closed on your waist, pulling you closer still until no space existed between bodies. A soft moan escaped your throat, his kiss deepening, his tongue slipping past your lips to taste you with a languorous sensual intensity. You gasped against him, your hands shifting from his cloak onto his chest-hard muscle beneath his shirt. His lips left yours, trailing down your jawline, down toward your neck, sending shivers down your spine. "Itachi..." His name fell from your lips again this time more breathless, more needy as you leaned to the side, granting him further access. He required no further encouragement. His mouth found the sensitive skin of your neck, kissing and nibbling lightly, sending waves of pleasure across your body. His hands slid lower, coming to rest on your hips, his thumbs stroking over the skin just beneath your shirt. The light touch was enough to set your senses alight, and you arched into him, your body responding to every one of his movements. "You're beautiful," he murmured against your skin, low and husky, the words sending a thrill through you. His lips moved back up to capture yours once more in a kiss that was hotter, more urgent this time. His body pressed against yours in a way that left no doubt about where this moment could lead. "Is this okay?" he asked softly, voice low a hum, eyes searching yours for confirmation. His thumb brushed over your lower lip. You nodded, breathless, lips swollen. "Yes, Itachi... And with that, his lips were back on yours again, and the world faded to black once more as you let go, completely, into his arms. "I'll take care of you, don't worry, you want me to, darling?" he asks.

"Please," you whimper as his teeth graze your neck before he strips the clothes off of your body. 

And now, your legs over his shoulders and your head thrown back against the plushy pillow beneath your head on the couch. There was also a smaller pillow propped underneath your hips, Itachi said that it would make it more comfy for you and it did. He always worried about your pleasure and comfort.

"I-Tachi," you whimper out as his nose bumps against your clit.

"Are you okay?" he asks, worried about how much your voice was whimpering at the small amount of contact with your most sensitive area.

You squirm under the hold Itachi's hand on your thighs, back subtly arching into his face, wanting to indulge further in his touch.

"Yeah," you say breathlessly.

"You'll be alright, my love," Itachi reassures, placing soft and fluttery kisses on your stomach.

You shiver underneath the simple gestures, awaiting when he puts his tongue and fingers to use.

"'M know, Itachi," you replied, your fingers interlacing with his long black hair which was now free from his hairtie. 

Itachi descends once more to your most sensitive area, your soaked cunt. "Tell me if it's too much."

"You never hurt me, 'tachi," you said while a shaky breath leaves your mouth.

A whimper leaves your mouth when he places a kiss on your clit and your thighs clench around his head. You attempt to arch away from the overwhelming sensation but Itachi's grip keeps you in place.

"L-Love," you moan out.

"I know, darling," Itachi reassures. "It's okay, I'm here, tell me if it's too much."

Once more, Itachi's nose brushes up against your delicate clit, and your grip on his hair tightened. A satisfied sigh seeps through him into your folds as a mewl from your full lips.

"Are you okay?" he asks before licking a long stripe up your folds and you moan, your back arching and your cunt pressing further into his face which he relished in.

You whimpered before answering, trying to gather your scattered thoughts, "Yeah, 'm am, Itachi."

He loves you so intensely it hurts, and your response makes his heart sing. His tongue climbs up from your wet hole to your clit while you let out a moan. Your thighs tighten around his head as a result of his constriction, and as you grind down on his face, a moan echoes through your clit. Your lips were filled with chants of his name, and he relished every moment of it.

"Itachi, f-feels s' good," you moan, tears welling in your lash line, he was making you feel so good.

"You're okay?" Itachi asks.

When you feel a thick finger push past your closing walls, you furiously nod your head, your eyes expand, and you cry with delight. It felt so fantastic that you never want it to finish, even though you thought you would break because he was so huge.

His finger pressed up against that soft spot inside your walls. Itachi was slow with his pace as he curled his fingers every time he entered your cunt, along with sucking and licking at your puffy, sensitive clit.

"You're being so good, you're doing so well," Itachi moans against you, refusing to rut his hips into the mattress, this was your pleasure, not his own.

A moan arouses from you and your hips grind themselves onto his face. He let you for once have some sort of control over the situation, and he decided that if you came quicker he'll let you do it more often. "That's it," he praised.

His motions become more rapid and needy as you cry his name through broken letters, and the one hold he held on your leg tightens. Your stomach coil tightened, and your fingers wrapped around his locks to stop him from moving and make him sigh deeper into your folds.

The only thing the groans did was push you over the edge, and when he placed his tongue firmly against your clit, a quiet scream from your lips. Your stomach coil unwound, soaking his face completely.

He slowly removed his fingers from your drenched pussy, your cum spilling out from your puffy folds. Before rising his head, he places a kiss on your clit and your mewl softly in overstimulation.

"Are you alright, love?" he asks worried, kissing away the pleasure-caused tears streaming down your cheeks and the side of your face. "Do you feel better."

You were so tired just after that one orgasm and Itachi seemed to notice and he lifted you from the couch so that you were able to rest on him, snuggling up against him on the couch now. "Thank you, Itachi."

"Anything for you."

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

m.list | naruto/boruto m.list | uchiha m.list

[ideasarestuckinmyhead]

Bittersweet boys comforting a sugarboo who's on their period-

(Hcs)

Period comfort.

Here's one I did with just Alphonse. I think that's the only one I did?? (plz comment if I did do another I'll link it here). TW: Obvi afab reader but I still use you for the reader.

If you need anything from them, say the word and their getting it for you.

Just like when your sick one is with you and the other one hurries to get what you want.

HC I have for Seth he runs hotter than you and Al so he's like your own heater if you wanna cuddle him for warmth. Also lets you wear his sweater.

Al is more on snack duty since he's been with you longer and knows what you want. Also gets a candy from his shop you really like.

Seth is the one that loves watching anything you wanna watch may it be like a movie or a soap opera. Also helps you calm down if you cry or your emotions go wacky.

Alphonse like that one vid (said this in his own period comfort hc post) he'll tell you silly stories to distract you form the pain.

Seth will tell you stories form when he was on the road. Also some of the ones his mom told him along with Al adding on.

Alphonse knows what brand and what you prefer to use during your period. Tells Seth in case Al in at the shop and can't get them.

Seth, when you do bleed out on the bed. Tries his best to distract you so you don't feel embarrassed. Hurries to clean everything while he tells you to take along bath or shower.

When you did found out bc there was a faint stain that didn't go away both of them comforted you saying it's okay and that the bed spread is old so it's fine.

One time your period started during a town event and when you turned around trying to figure out why you were so snappy. Al saw the blood spot and immediately took his sweater off and wrapped it around you.

Seth hurried to the convenient shop and got you new pants. While Al explained you started your period. Out of breath Seth gave you the bag and said to change and he'll go back to the house and start a load.

These two were raised by Al''s mom to know wtf to do (hc) bc she had a very like bad period and hated when it would come.

So Seth and Al try their best to make everything easy for you o your not stressed while also on your period.

Also during the week of your period the boys make food that has lots of calories since you need more anyways bc your bleeding tf out

Also since ur a baker they help you bake too so your not doing too much on your body.

I can see Seth doing massages for your lower back while Alphonse threads his hand through your hair and put it up so you can relax.

[captainjonnitkessler]

Lol I'm so confused why we've decided to ban everyone from the word "wendigo" when we would've laughed in other religious people's faces when they ask you not to say to speak a name. And why is it just wendigo. It's so weird but it's EVERYWHERE, like people getting canceled left and right because they said the word or liked the design and based a character off of it. I can understand if the argument is against non-natives mischaracterizing their stories, but seriously, a word

First, a disclaimer: I do think what's happened with the wendigo culturally is really shitty. To take the existing legend of a cannibalistic humanoid monster, which is often used to represent rapacious greed, colonialism, and exploitation, and turn it into "scary deer skull monster eat people" and then plaster it everywhere because it got popular is both shitty and dreadfully ironic.

But the idea of the word itself being a taboo I have to respect sucks. For one thing, as far as I can tell it's straight up not true. Plenty of native writers, Algonquin and otherwise, have spoken and written about it in academic and fictional contexts. The "it's disrespectful to say its name!" thing seems to just be something someone said on the internet and everyone took it as an excuse to play More Woke Than You.

I read a twitter thread that posited that someone got it confused with skinwalkers, which IS something you're supposed to avoid naming in Navajo belief. And if you personally don't want to say it, that's fine! If you don't like the idea of non-Navajo people talking about them because you think they'll be disrespectful or they won't get it, that's perfectly understandable!

But if you tell me that I can't even say the word because it will draw a skinwalker's attention, I reserve the right to roll my eyes the same way I do when people tell me that using a ouija board is going to invite demonic spirits into my house. It's not disrespectful for someone to not follow *your* religion.

[crownshattered]

Continued from here with @exorciiistt~

There was great enjoyment to be found in taking power away from someone. To break someone’s pride in such a way that they know there’s nothing to be done, yet they fight against it nevertheless. It was rare for Joseph to play with his food, but the exorcist simply seemed to amuse him. Aesop had the means in which to kill the vampire once and for all… And Joseph took it away from him.

Maybe that’s why Joseph hadn’t killed him yet… Aesop served no use to him other than mild entertainment, so why not be rid of him? Joseph didn’t quite know himself. Maybe it really did just stem from his amusement in the other’s fierceness even in the face of a greater enemy.

A smirk found its way upon blood-red lips as crystal blue hues gazed down at the resilient exorcist. He was still fighting him, even when he had no way of winning. How interesting. “Not until you look at me,” the vampire replied as he kept his cool fingers pressed against the fabric of Aesop’s mask. His grip on his chin tightened just slightly. Aesop won’t win this game that easily.

[lesbianjudasiscariot]

[shadowedvales]

just another day where i am out here thinking about ghost jane! after closing the gate, and the impact it had on her physically and mentally, she's forever connected to the upside down, even when it's sealed off completely. due to jane's abnormal genetics and weak immune system due to what she was submitted to in the womb, her body begins failing her when she's nineteen years old, [after a specifically harsh winter day where she gets stranded at a bus stop for three hours, and is stuck in the cold, and gets sick with a slight fever. then that sickness turns into pneumonia, which leads to her spending six weeks in the hospital under owens' care]. when she's twenty three, her body begins fully shutting down, and she eventually dies at twenty five. her death is peaceful in a sense because it wasn't violent nor unexpected, but it is tragic. even more so, because she's reincarnated into a ghost, who can never move on because of the upside down imbedding itself into her skin, into her body when she was a child. she can venture outside hawkins, and isn't specifically tied to a place because the upside down is ancient, it spread amongst the whole world, and even though it's sealed off, still exists below. wherever the upside down is, active or not, jane can tread, but she was never given the real chance to ever leave hawkins, and knows very little of the world outside the small town. even in death, it frightens her to venture beyond. she's stuck in the town that she loves as much as she hates, wandering around as a mere echo of herself, reclaiming that lost black cat status who doesn't really belong to anyone or anything. there are people over the years who can slightly sense her, or see her completely so she isn't alone forever, but those people eventually move on after their death, where she never can.

[dyed-red]

I think of that “slightly more unhinged Dean” s1 au at least once a week, I need you to know that. Dean’s eyes dilating when Sam asks if Dean would want to be there when Sam is with someone, it not being clear if Sam is also unhinged or is just humoring his brother but still has no issue with his brother being so unhinged, Sarah definitely noticing it’s super weird, whatever Sam’s Stanford friends must think about this because they probably noticed that Sam’s brother was really really weird and intense about him and he had some kind of issue with them despite having never met them before and Sam clearly not having any issue with them so it’s not Dean disliking them because his brother does, John being worried by how the brothers are so either John only just noticed what they’re becoming or the catalyst was Dean getting Sam back and that makes me think of that post about how getting Sam back from the Cage was the absolute worst thing for Dean because he faced living without Sam once and can never do that again, Dean not listening to John when his relationship with Sam comes up, Sam of course follows Dean’s lead rather than John and it’s like that scene when Dean insists John is possessed and Sam automatically sides with his brother despite there not being any solid evidence, Meg adding fuel to the fire when she’s around the brothers, Azazel having been informed about what Sam and Dean were becoming and this being part of why Sam’s the favorite, this also reminded me of how Dean has a hit placed on him by demons in s5, it really struck me that it looked like this was done simply to weaken Sam, what with Gabriel having once told Sam that the bad guys knew Dean was Sam’s weakness and the demon in Swap Meat being so focused on getting Lucifer in his vessel upon realizing Sam is not Sam at the moment, Azazel taunting John about how desperately Sam needs Dean vs not needing John as much, etc. Climbing the walls over this

anon i really do love your brain when my own manages to process all the words you write <3

[arolesbianism]

So I may or may not have spent a good chunk of my day trying to learn how to look into onis code and while I may not have yet succeeded I will likely keep fucking around with shit tomorrow and if I manage to succeed it'll spell great doom for my sanity as oni becomes the interest I've officially poured the most effort into analyzing

[xbadnews-a]

today my brain has been having trouble connecting socially. i did, however, get a few things done ( i tagged all my ic posts, did a web weaving & collected all my drafts among other things ) but i mostly needed a recharge day today [ yesterday?? the 5th ] & I'm glad i took it. tomorrow i should be back in the swing of things but if I'm not i wont be pushing myself beyond what i feel capable of

[areyouwho-ithinkyouare]

okok i’m doing prep for d&d later and they’re arriving in a new town so i’m working on that community and ohhhhhh my god i think this is my favourite npc i’ve ever created i hope they dont ignore her or kill her bcus i want 2 be her more than once pleaase

[leyiorr]

i can't stop looking at her t-t-t-t, FACE!

mdni.

satoru gojo is doomed.

why is he doomed, you ask? well, put bluntly, you, his girlfriend of five months, are driving him absolutely crazy.

crazy is an understatement, actually. insane, mad, mental, unhinged, deranged, bonkers - whatever you want to call it. he's holding on by a thread; the thinly woven string known as sanity growing ever weaker as the days roll by and turn into weeks.

of course, he's only blaming you. you hadn't actually done anything wrong.

you're the first relationship satoru's had in his life, and he'd be damned if some inappropriate thoughts ruin his chances with the love of his life. he'd never been happier - dating you gave him the kind of happiness he thought only existed in movies; the kind of giddiness of a child in a candy store.

he was devoted to you in every way, shape and form - you are everything he's dreamed of and more.

more.

that's right, you were more.

recently, you were the devil's temptation personified.

surprisingly, even after twenty-odd years of being one of the most attractive guys around, and having women throw themselves at him like he's some kind of greek deity, satoru is a virgin. i'll repeat that, he is a virgin. a fact that only suguru knows. a fact that he's neglected to tell his girlfriend.

he may have a flirtatious personality and the ability to charm ninety percent of the human race with one of his thousand-kilowatt smiles, but in truth, he had never dated anyone. ever. let alone got his dick in a pussy.

so when he starts wanting to go further, he's not sure how to bring it up without sounding like a horndog.

it all started when you wore a sleek black dress to one of your dates. it clung to your figure, fabric wrapping shamelessly around your every curve and tickling your midthigh at its end. and if that wasn't bad enough, it had a plunging neckline, giving the world - satoru specifically - an eyeful of the assets god gifted you with. your boobs were practically spilling out of your dress, the light catching your cleavage as you held his arm. he could feel himself salivating like some sort of perv. how was he supposed to focus with aphrodite's personal creation hanging off his arm?

his eyes began to drift to the flesh of your chest more than he'd like to admit. all sorts of r-rated scenarios ran through his head and he dared to entertain every. single. one. he could do so much with them, tease them, spit on them, pinch them, suck on them, put his dick between them-

“satoru?”

his gaze snaps back to your face at record speed. you notice how he's chewing his bottom lip, flush creeping onto his cheekbones and the tips of his ears. his hands are clammy; there's suddenly too little oxygen in his room.

“did you listen to anything i said?” your arms fold beneath your bosom and satoru almost implodes.

what do you expect him to do? the necklace around your neck has his initial on it, and it hovers over your tits almost mockingly. if it snapped, the letter would fall right between the valley of your breasts-

“satoru!”

he's choking on his saliva, apologizing profusely as he encourages you to continue your story - though he hasn't heard shit over the blood pumping loudly in his ears.

it's a battle no, a war between his rationality and his desires and he doesn't know which is winning. his rationality wins when he's around you - he just sucks in a breath and thugs it out, no matter how much his dick shouts at him. but in private, he's letting the desires win as his fists himself to the thought of you, your lips, your ass; your boobs.

the first time he sees you in a bikini he has to take a breather before he can get into a game of beach volleyball with you and the group.

(and even then he was struggling. every time you jumped for the ball the only thing he was looking at was your tits.)

he should be neutered. effective immediately.

it drags out for so long that you finally notice, and force him to talk to you about why he's avoiding you, and if you'd done anything wrong. but all you get is:

“baby, i'm so sorry- you're so pretty and i can't help myself. i didn't know how to bring up that i wanted to take our relationship to the next step, you mean the world to me and i'd hate to make you uncomfortable-” he trips and stumbles over his words-

“...is that it?”

and his eyes bug out of his head as he stares at you. weeks, months of agony over this and all you have to say is 'is that it'?

he doesn't even have chance to respond; to process your words before you're popping the top button of your blouse.

yeah, satoru gojo is doomed.

[l13]

cw: nsfw! 18+ mdni, f!reader

BRUCE was sprawled out on his bed, black sheets barely covering his naked body, his bulky thigh nudging its way out under and out of them when it got too hot. He kept his hand behind his head, half-lidded eyes never leaving your form as he watched you carefully.

“Again.”

You stood near his side of the bed, one leg propped up on it, naked except for one of Bruce's white button up shirts, the upper four buttons undone, courtesy of yours truly (Bruce Wayne). Your hand follows the skin of your leg from your calves, to your knees up, up to your thigh where your fingers hook under your simple sheer tights. Slowly, you begin to pull them down your leg, and Bruce's eyes follow the movement religiously. His lips part when your skin reappears under the delicate barrier, the act almost hypnotizing. 

Bruce inhales sharply when your whole leg gets exposed to him, and his eyes immediately trail up to your face, smiling lazily, a faint dimple showing “Again,” 

You roll your eyes playfully, biting back a smile, and yet you do as he says, somehow also getting worked up over this. You stare unabashedly at his chest, the way it rises and falls with each breath. Your eyes travel lower, down to his happy trail, and Bruce, ever so observant, notices this, and readjusts his hips slightly, making the sheet shift the slightest bit. When your eyes snap up to his, he raises his eyebrow in challenge. You huff, fingers beginning to work again, pulling the tights up your leg this time, slowly though, never rushing this. 

But you still wanted to fuck with him a little. So when you pull the tights just past your knee you stop completely and watch in amusement as Bruce’s gaze snaps up to yours immediately, eyes narrowing playfully, “That was the best part, and you ruined it,” he complained in a gruff voice, and you grinned, “I know.”

He clicks his tongue as he scooted closer to the edge of the bed, skimming his fingers over your skin, barely touching you as he went to resume your work, “I'll just have to do it for you then,” his fingers pull the tights up your pretty thigh, and he bites his lip when his work is done, hands now properly touching your skin over your tights, running them up and down your thigh appreciatively. 

“You’re insatiable.” you say as you thread your fingers through his hair, tugging his head back the slightest bit, and Bruce groans lowly from the tug, leaning down to press a kiss against your thigh. He then looks up at you innocently, humming as if he was agreeing with you. 

Suddenly his hand wraps around your waist, and he tugs you closer, and you gasp when you fall on his lap,  tights long forgotten as he studies your face, grabbing your ass in both hands and lifting you up so you could prop your knees on either side of him, “I can't help it.” he confessed, before claiming your lips with his.

Your hand came up to caress his cheek, your fingers playing with the ends of his hair as you kiss him back. Somehow the sheet was still bunched around his waist, covering his hard cock, and yet you wasted no time and rolled your hips against him. Bruce moans against your lips, his hold on you tightening.  His hands knead the skin of your ass, as he pulls away and starts pressing kisses down your jaw. You reward him with another roll of your hips, your pussy meeting his cock through the fabric, and he raises his hips the slightest bit, nudging your clit in the process. He hisses when you whimper, his hands now trailing up your bare back under your (his) shirt. “Sweet girl..”

Bruce’s kisses turn more filthy, now pressing open-mouthed kisses on your lips, panting against your mouth for just a second as he pulls away, and your tongue darts out to lick a line across his lips. His eyes turn dark, “Let me fuck you again.” he whispers against your lips, hand coming up to hold your face, thumb and pointer finger digging into each of your cheeks softly.

“I think you can do better than that.” You bite your lip when he rolls his eyes quickly, a smile tugging his lips up, “I can feel you dripping through the sheets, and you want me to beg?” he huffs out a chuckle, and you gasp in faux offense. You turn to look away from him teasingly but he tilts your head back to him with a tut.

You shake off his hold on your face, and in turn take both his cheeks in your palms, eyes dancing across his. Rubbing your thumb over his bottom lip, you lean in to whisper against his ear, “Want to fuck me in them?”

Satisfaction pools inside your belly when you see his adam's apple bob as he swallows harshly, and he groans, dropping his head to bite down at your shoulder teasingly. “Yes. Please.”

You grin, moving to stand up, not before Bruce swats your ass playfully. You shoot him an unconvincing glare, and he just shrugs, leaning back with his palms supporting his weight, eyes never trailing up and down your form. “Don't rip them this time.”

Bruce smiles. “I won't.”

Later, when you find yourself panting against the floor-to-ceiling window of his room, the glass foggy as you press your cheek against it to look at Bruce over your shoulder, whimpering when he pulls out of you, his hand pulling the cheek of your ass taut to watch his cum drip out of your pussy, your eyes catch sight of your ripped tights, your pussy and most of your ass free from the material in a perfect circle. You swallow down your whimper when he shoves two fingers inside your puffy cunt, pushing his cum back inside you, “You lied,” you somehow manage to utter.

Bruce's eyes snap up to yours, his eyebrows furrowing momentarily, sweat dripping down his temple, but then he notices. Sees where you're looking. His eyes glint devilishly, and he gives you the most shit eating grin you've ever seen, “Guess I did.”

2024 © l13 | Do not steal, copy, edit, translate or re-post any of my works.

[bi-writes]

ghost is off limits. not just emotionally or romantically, but physically. you have seen the aftermath of when someone so much as bumps into him or brushes past his arm in a tight hallway. they learn very quickly that lieutenant riley isn't to be touched, not even a little, not at all. (18+)

ohhhh but not for the medic. your touch is clinical. necessary. ordered. ghost glares, but he does not tell you to go away when you make your way into captain price's office. it's late; they just touched down not even ten minutes ago, exhausted and burdened by an op that took a few weeks of their absence.

he smells like sweat, like grime, and you can taste the sand in the air when you take a seat next to him. even seated, he is taller than you. he takes up a ridiculous amount of space, dwarfing the office chair he sits in. you set your kit down on your captain's desk, turning to face your lieutenant.

"uhm...could you show it to me?"

he huffs in annoyance before he pulls his tactical vest over his head, tossing it onto the floor. you swallow, blinking, focusing, as he unzips the jacket he wears and lets it fall at his feet. your lips part a little as he reveals the strength of his arms, tight muscles straining against the shirt he wears and showing off the sleeve of ugly military tattoos that are sunburnt along one arm.

gorgeous, giant man, but then your eyes take interest on the nasty gash along one arm, a jagged wound that stretches nearly from shoulder to elbow. it looks angry and irritated, much like the look in his eyes.

when you put your hands on him for the first time, he flinches. not because he is in pain, but the feeling of skin against skin is so foreign, like a wound of its own. you blink up at him, soft and sweet, and you show him your hands, what you're doing with them.

"just going to clean it out and stitch you up, lieutenant. promise i won't take too long."

but he likes it. the way your soft palm cups his scarred forearm, running a cloth over the lines of blood that trace along the length to his wrist and drip onto the floor. the warm drag of your fingers pushing his skin together so you can hook the needle through and stitch him up solid and effectively. those easy, gentle strokes, threading through skin as you would hem a skirt, a pattern that you have not forgotten that is now being weaved onto his very body.

he'll wear your stitch pattern like a patch he has so dutifully earned. and you will wear his marks just the same, yes she will, the good girl that she is.

when you finish, he grunts, flexing his fist to gauge the tautness of his skin and the way the wound burns as he stretches his arm. he tilts his head to the side, glaring. your hands rest easy there, still pressed up against him, and he nods at you expectantly.

"open y'r mouth, sergeant."

and you do. because he's your lieutenant, and he has given you an order. he hikes his mask up, revealing a disgusting grin and the sharp edge of a torn lip, a face mangled beyond recognition. when he spits in your mouth, he tastes just as you expected--like sand and smoke.

"now swallow."

and you do, but not because he's your lieutenant, it's something else, something more. not afraid, but intrigued, somehow not put off, but needing sustenance.

when he crowds you in the infirmary later that night, you don't understand. you don't understand the sudden need to touch, the way he grips your ass, the nasty way he bites at your jaw and pushes your pants down your thighs and puts his cock between your thighs.

he promises he won't fuck you, promises he'll be nice this time, but it's hard to discern between reality and heaven when he lets the tip catch on your clit with every frantic stroke. you squeak with every rough thrust, pressing your ass against his pelvis as you arch your back, wanting to see his face, wanting to kiss him, wanting to make this tender and soft and a little romantic, but that isn't ghost.

ghost is mean. ghost isn't a giver, he's a taker. ghost is made of sharp edges only, broken glass on all sides, it's such a shame his cock is so nice and so big and so good, lieutenant, please, i need it--

"need more," is what you beg, even though you know he can't give it to you. you know, but he does it anyway, he slips a big hand between your thighs and opens you up, and you cry when he finally sinks deep, hoisting you up, your back tight against his chest as he learns how quiet the voices in his head are when he's so deep in your pretty, pretty pussy.

he slips another hand around your throat, baring it, giving himself room so he can bite at your neck and lick over the salt and brand you with the evidence of the reprieve he refuses to give, but you don't care, all you can do is smile.

you know his secrets now, the things he would never tell, the things he can't say out loud.

it's almost frightening that you don't really care if he has to kill you to keep you quiet.

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

Phrases/Actions that make me drop to my knees, ready to submit.

All 18+ Prompts- Please tag me if you use any cause I wanna read filth :)

“That’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl/boy.”

“You’re mine.”

“Is this ok?” As they stare up at you from in between your legs. (Consent is so fucking hot and important)

“Do that again- Shit, just like that, right there.”

Ghosting their lips against yours before pulling back with a smug smirk, making you chase them desperately.

Dragging one of their nails down the side of your neck and then middle of your chest.

“Please mark me, I want everyone to know I’m yours.”

“Spread your legs baby, that’s it… Wider.”

When they murmur pure filth into your ear while they’re touching you.

Fucking someone so good that they struggle to kiss you back.

Hands desperately clutching at one another, gasping into each other’s mouths as if you were starved of one another.

“On your knees.” While their fingers thread through your hair, guiding you onto the floor.

Smirking into a kiss/against your skin when you whimper at their touch.

“My little slut to ruin.”

Interlocking your fingers above your head while making out passionately.

Pulling them closer by the collar of their shirt or their belt.

“I’m yours. Only yours.”

“You’re in no position to tease baby, remember that.”

Soft, lazy kisses and innocent touches that turn bolder and more sinful as you just can’t resist each other.

“This is wrong.” “So wrong.” While continuing to pull at each others clothes, mind fogged with nothing but lust and arousal.

Want a Part 2?