#Greedy x Reader

[fueledbysano]

it has been raining for days on end, which also meant that your boyfriend had been fucking you nonstop. stay dry, they said. but he kept your pussy wet, full, and sore.

“one more, sweetheart, I know you can take more~" you've been at it like rabbits, but he is still insanely horny! with your mind airy and drool falling on your chin, you could only nod in response to his invitation.

“ah— don't stop!” he had just shoved his dick back inside of you, but you're already begging for more and provoking him further.

“Fuck, you have such a tight hold on me, you don’t even know.” he exhaled, rolling his hips, your tits sticking to his chest as the sweat from his abs warmed you, his hips piston faster, needing more.

“nghh~ [ Y / N ]~” he cried into your shoulder, hips desperately chasing for release as he rut so deep into your pussy.

“all mine~” he whimpered, fingers clawing with yours and pushing your body deeper into the mattress.

his thrusts keeps getting deeper and static fills your head. you can't think. he grinds, fucking and speeding up the pace, his finger rubbing your clit in agonizing, sweet circles.

“Ugh,” you pant, kissing him hard as you climaxed for the nth time. your pussy is extremely sensitive, yet throbbing, clenching on emptiness when he pulls out to lay you on your stomach.

"I'm not done with you yet..." the sheet falls from his shoulders, baring you to the cold air brought by the rain outside.

— [ TR ] Hanma, Baji, Shinichiro, Rindou, Kazutora, Kakucho, Mikey, Hakkai, Chifuyu, Wakasa, Sanzu.

— [ JJK ] Gojo, Yuji, Megumi, Yuta, Suguru.

♡ mdni banner by @ benkeibear!

[latimeria-fell-from-heaven]

Okay look, I know people are gonna characterize Aventurine as the kind of yandere that manipulates everything behind the scenes and is always coming up with ways to try and make his darling unable to rely on anyone but him. But honestly? I can see him as the desperate needy type who needs to have your attention on him, he NEEDS to be the only man you'll ever want and look at, and GOD, he just desperately needs you to own him in his entirety.

He'll do anything to keep your attention on him and make sure that you at least will keep him around long enough for him to enact his plans of keeping you by his side. You want a dog who does whatever you say and will crawl on hands and knees for your amusement? You want a pretty little toy that you can break over and over? You want him to take the lead and make you unable to think or walk anymore? He'll do it, he'll do whatever you want, he'll do anything to keep your attention on him until he can make you his.

[moondirti]

kyle yearns for his captain's approval. you're the perfect medium through which he can secure it.

featuring: gaz x fem!reader x price. very consensual. fondling. inspection. fluff. praise kink. objectification. cucking? anal play. mentions of dp and breeding. 4k words of nonsense.

when price asks gaz if he's got anyone at home, gaz answers.

truthfully. he'd be hesitant to admit that he does to anyone else – soap especially, what with his track record of worming his way into people's pants – but his captain is... his captain. jonathan price. a real force of nature, cursed with an uncanny determinism and a habit of getting what he wants regardless of if those around him are willing. gaz knows that price will find out eventually; when the ring he's been planning to purchase for months finds it's way onto your finger, and he requests a change be made to the dependants section of his paperwork. perhaps before then too, if he really did some digging. but gaz also knows that, if there were anyone to trust with this precious knowledge, it'd be him.

so, he tells him about the little number he's got tucked away in a home in south oxfordshire. it's the lazy afternoon before a big mission, and he shouldn't be drinking but he is, a tumbler cradled between his palms and the burn of rye whiskey loosening his tongue. price doesn't speak, just listens, as the sergeant gradually devolves into more and more detail about your meeting, your courtship, the work you distract yourself with when he's not around. and despite his reverence, he admits it all breathlessly, a sheepishness pervading every word. how is he expected to keep his composure when the air is so heavy? unrelenting scrutiny and the potent waft of cigar-smoke draw a hot flush to his skin, the older man humming every so often as a prompt for him to continue.

he wants to, oddly enough. gaz is a reticent man, second only to ghost when it comes to keeping his life private. but something about this circumstance has him ready to lay it all bare. he wants to tell price about how you kiss his neck, the wicked fucking ways in which you use your mouth to milk him dry. he wants to pull out his phone, scroll through the hidden album full of pictures of your tits, of home-made films that paint you in a cum-covered, dazzling light. he wants price to know that he chose right, wants to hear the praise whispered in his ear as his captain lays a sturdy clap onto his back.

instead, he shrugs.

"not much more to tell, cap."

"damn shame." price taps his cigar to rid of the ashes. "sounds like a proper match, garrick. good for you."

and it's enough. a big enough lump of wood to keep the needy fire in his belly roaring. he shifts in his seat to dissuade the heat, rubbing his jaw in contemplation like he hasn't already thought of a perfect way to reap more.

"tell you what, sir. we survive this next assignment, i'll bring you over to meet 'er."

it's a hairbreadth escape, but they do manage to make it back alive, albeit a bit more scarred than they once were. gaz gets home late at night to find you awake, waiting on him despite the incredibly short notice he'd given you for his arrival. it's there – in the foyer, his nose buried in your neck as you babble on about how much you missed him, and what you'll make for breakfast to celebrate, and questions like hey, are you okay? that cut looks fresh or when was the last time you slept? – that he breaks the news. you'll be having his captain over for dinner in two week's time.

of course you're overjoyed. you've been begging to meet the people he risks his life with ever since he told you what he did for work. the planning is immediate. you're dumping recipes on him the next morning, asking for his opinion on what appetiser, main, and dessert your guest of honour would enjoy best. and what's his poison, anyway? i can get my hands on a nice bottle of scotch if you think it'd be worth it. kyle doesn't have the heart to tell you that nothing you'll do would matter much, that price has already taken a liking to you. besides, if anything, your homemaking ability makes him chub up in his pants. best not to rob himself of that delight.

the night arrives as quick as it had been put forward. gaz has to dodge your attempts to put a tie on him, stifles your complaints with a kiss and insists that it's not that kind of dinner party. you're confused (bless you) but flit around making last minute preparations in your bustier midi-dress anyway, kitten-heels clicking against the polished hardwood floors. at a certain point, he can tell that you're fussing over nothing and pulls you by the hand to stand by the doorway with him.

"there's something i didn't mention earlier." he whispers when you're finally settled, tucking his index finger under your chin. your brows knit anxiously. he pecks the canyons between them, stroking your bottom lip until the frazzled energy bleeds from you.

"why would you wait? there's not enough t–"

"not exactly something you can plan for, doll. s'just gonna happen." when you fail to push him for more context, he sighs. "price is expecting to see you."

"sure... that's the whole point, isn't it?"

"no, sweetheart." gaz's free hand wraps around your waist, lowering until it reaches the plush sweel of your ass. his touch lays breadcrumbs for you to follow, leading you down the very depraved path he's trekked a million times the past few weeks. "i mean all of you."

your lips part in realization. oh. he's scared straight for a second, heart hammering like it always does when he reveals a darker fantasy to you. but you merely smile – anxious, sure, pupils clouded with fresh concern, but a smile nonetheless – and accept his admission gracefully.

"and you want me to let him?"

gaz nods. "if you'd please."

you place a chaste kiss on his cheek, careful not to smear your makeup onto his clean-shaven skin. "okay."

he visibly slackens, an edge of playfulness cutting it's way back into his tone. "what's say we take those panties off, make things easier when the time arrives?"

"can' remember the last time i had a beef welly this good, love. family recipe?"

"yes, actually! but it took me some time to perfect for my own. the original called for sherry in the duxelle, but i always thought wine was better suited."

kyle doesn't know if he's ever been more proud of you.

you're a vision. the paradigm of charm. he half feared things to would be awkward following your conversation at the doorway, but aside from the first few minutes of price's arrival – the time it took everyone to thaw the ice of unfamiliarity – you've been anything but stilted. in fact, he worries that you missed the true implication of his request – of the direction things will take later – given the way you laugh openly. the ease in which you bridge conversation topics. your attentiveness, eyes roving over both your boyfriend and his captain to ensure everyone has everything they need. you certainly don't act like a girl who's going to be nakedly appraised tonight. all the expected clumsiness, the stumbling over your own words, replaced instead by eloquence and quick wit.

sweet girl. bloody... beautiful, darling girl.

price seems to think so too. he chuckles heartily at the stories you offer of kyle failing learning to waterski during your anniversary trip to mauritius (and offers his own insight too, something along the lines of how you'd expect the sergeant to be better balanced, given he's survived hanging off a helicopter before). offers some solid advice on how to deal with the ostentatious coworker whose been bugging you for months. and when you question him about his personal life – a line every good soldier knows not to take with their CO, which has gaz wincing internally – all your guest offers is a genuine, crinkle-eye smile. no doubt appreciative of the non-intrusive manner you ask.

he shoots gaz a look before answering, and it's one full of tacky warmth. a look he's seen several times on the field, molasses sweet and satisfying, one that invades his private thoughts too often to admit. whose effect he knows only comes off in a cold shower, a quick pump to his cock if you're not around to help relieve it. something like approval. unspoken praise.

"wish i could say i've been blessed like the two of ya. married to my work, m'afraid."

"oh." you wave your arms, standing to clear the table of dirty plates. "don't be ridiculous, john. you're a wonderful man. put yourself out there and i'm sure it'll come to you." you say it like it's breathing, and just as easily prance away to the kitchen, your voice losing to the clatter of silverware in the sink. thus, when you yell out something about dessert (price is really only able to decipher i made madeira! over the illegible chorus of cabinets closing) kyle is the one to answer you. well-trained in untangling your voice from any sort of ruckus, poor cell reception and moans and drunk gibberish and the obstructive fabric of his hoodie when you sob into his chest.

"maybe later, doll!" he voices back, scratching the back of his neck as he takes in the food still laid out in front of them. picked apart by hungry forks but still, enough to make up days worth of leftovers.

"mm. the girl stuffed me full, garrick." price stretches from his seat. "if i didnt know any better, i'd reckon you lot were fattening me up to feast on me come winter."

gaz stores the remains of your meal into nearby tupperwares then follows suit, urging his captain to follow him into the lounge. "please," he laughs, nodding when the man pulls a cigar from his pocket and twists it in a silent question. "she thinks they starve us out there. tries to make up for it by feedin' me into oblivion when i'm home."

"speak for yourself. i could do with a home-cooked meal every now 'n' then." the captain takes a puff of the maduro between his fingers, lets the smoke cloud his hindbrain. your house smells so much like you, like kyle and you – warm laundry and anise and jasmine – that he feels a quick lick of guilt at ruining the fragile balance of it. too little too late, too – the scent of leather and oily spice pervades the space.

but you don't mention it once you waltz back in, smoothing your hands across the back of your dress. "if we don't get a chance to try the cake tonight, remind me to send you home with some, john." gaz poorly conceals his laugh with a cough, sinking into the cushion when you shoot him an offended look. "what?"

"nothing," he pouts, then hides his next words behind the back of his hand, whispering to price. "i told you."

"i can hear you, you twat!" you flick his ear, brows furrowed in faux irritation as your boyfriend wraps an arm around your legs.

"i know! hey– i know, gorgeous. was only joking." his forehead nudges your tummy, restless until you comb your hand over his tight curls. "th'captain knows that too. isn't that right, sir?"

"of course."

"you laugh now, but wait until you're halfway through a month long mission. you'll wish you had me around!"

"don't i know it." kyle murmurs, the fingers at the back of your thigh slowly creeping upward. the skirt of your dress slips, climbs up your legs with the motion of his forearm, and all too suddenly he remembers your lack of undergarments.

fuck. he almost forget he pocketed your panties. and you... you've been so natural, such a good hostess despite the cold brush of air constantly on your cunt. it flips a primal switch inside him – that same trigger that'd prompted mention of this night in the first place. blood rushes to his cock so fast it hurts, desperation flooding his lungs until the only thing he can breathe out is your name.

"hmmm." you smile in return. and if price weren't here, he'd bury his nose into the canyon between your legs and take a deep inhale of your natural musk.

but he is, and so all gaz can manage is a quiet: "how about you show the captain our little surprise?"

"oh?" the man in question hums. dangerously relaxed, two legs spread and his posture curved as he watches the little display you put on for him. "what's this about a surprise, then?"

you bite your lip, raking your nails down from your boyfriend's neck to his shoulder and placing a tight, reassuring squeeze there before breaking away. nothing is said as you push an ottoman between price's knees, making sure it's steady before pushing him to rest against the back of the couch.

"do you like my dress?" you practically purr, bending over as to pronounce your tits. kyle's breath stutters, watching for the way superior's eyes take in your form. gratification swells in his belly when he just smiles, patting your hip.

"s'that really a question that needs to be asked, lovie? you know the answer."

an adorable mix between a shrug and giggle is all you give. "kyle says you want to see me."

"aye. i do."

"and i wanna make him happy."

"same for me."

and kyle thinks he could just cum in his pants if this keeps up. he feels filthy, both an observer and the main act in this spectacle. the knowledge that his captain doesn't just want you, the love of his life, but him too works away at him, hollowing him out until he's nothing but a husk of docile yearning.

"so, what'll it be?" you say.

"turn around. elbows on the ottoman, knees on either side of my thighs."

you obey instantly, lamplight catching the heated flush of your skin while you position yourself according to price's wishes. your back arcs so that your ass is prominently within his view, plump even beneath the loose material of your dress.

"kyle."

"sir." he coughs, shifting to conspicuously adjust the aching mass tucked in his waistband.

"on your knees, son. righ' here beside me. when i ask a question, you're expected to answer."

"yes, sir."

"got tha' that, lovie?" he grunts. "respond now, and then it's silence from you."

"okay!" you wiggle your hips, forgetting yourself for a moment. "sir!"

this gaz can do. following orders. grounded pragmatism, however far this is from a professional setting. he figures price has gleaned as much, has given him this task so he doesn't flounder off track throughout the evening and ruin things for everyone. the hard part is over then, all of that hesitant foreplay – of opening up, getting you to agree, of the stretch of time it took for everyone to warm up to one another – wrapped up for something simpler.

all he has to worry about is answering promptly and correctly while he watches his captain–

flip your skirt over your hips.

a low whistle. then, two hands on your backside, kneading the soft flesh there. working either globe apart like dough, the glistening seam of your most private parts spread open to prying eyes. price appraises your cunt for the first time like he would a winning showdog, or the sky on a particularly pleasant day. all utilitarian-like. if it weren't for the bulge in his trousers, your boyfriend would almost be offended.

"no panties, hm?"

"no-" you start, squeaking out an apology when you earn a firm swat to your thigh.

"i asked her to go without them tonight. thought... you'd appreciate it, sir." kyle replies, swallowing the saliva that arises upon seeing your lips flutter.

"good lad." a hot flash of arousal breaks across his chest. the captain lets go of his grip on your ass, watching how the fat jiggles back into place, then returns to squeezing it. "surprised i couldn't smell 'er, way she was dancing around us all night."

it isn't a question, so gaz stays quiet.

the groping continues. sometimes its light – brushes of calloused palms across the area, disturbing the stillness like a rock skipping over water. you ripple when he pokes, shake when he taps. other times, and increasingly once price notes your resilience to pain, it borders on rough. moulding your flesh into compact pinches, jabbing his thumb into the softness so hard it'll bruise. you take it all with grace, a low whine building in your chest that he let's go unpunished.

"she's taking this well. you rough her up often?"

"when she asks, sir." he thinks for a moment, catching your wily smile from the corner of his eye. minx. "likes it more than i do giving it to her."

"need someone to take care of the both of ya." price chuckles, then moves on, oblivious to the way the sergeant's hips buck at his implication. or, maybe he notices – probably does – and stores it away for another time. "looks like a greedy little pussy to me." his thumbs hook onto either side of your labia, pulling it apart like fresh bed to reveal the sloppy mess between. your clit is enflamed, angry for being neglected for so long. if you were allowed to speak, kyle can guarantee with almost a hundred percent certainty that you'd be whining to be touched. "look a' tha'." price's accent grows thicker. "fat little thing just jumping for attention."

he curls a finger, then flicks the swollen bud. a loud moan bursts from you, your face falling between your forearms as you hold yourself back from begging. gaz would've acquiesced by now, would've rubbing the bundle of nerves raw the second you fanned your pretty lashes up at him.

but price snaps it three more times in rapid succession, which apparently is too much for you to handle because you yell. "p-please!"

he remedies your slip up with a slap to the same area. the crack on impact echoes long enough to tell him that one hurt. "shhh. so spoiled, sergeant. how often do you make her cum?"

"a-at least three times a go, sir."

"what's the record?"

"eight."

"and the longest you've held off?"

kyle hesitates, bowing his head for the reprimand he knows is coming. "never... never tried. sir."

"tch."

a precision blow. swift but petrifying. the captain's managed to find both your loose strings in a matter of minutes, tugging to see them come undone on his lap. gaz has got the unwavering urge to rest his chin on his strong thigh, put it on the record that he isn't weak willed, just indulgent. something that can be easily remedied, with his guidance. if he'd let him.

and you...

you're gyrating your hips, begging for some pressure on your aching centre. price gives it to you, though not in the way you expect, pinching your clit and tightening his hold until you're motionless, muscles trembling but otherwise perfectly poised.

so the inspection continues. he fans out your vulva, exposing the hole that clenches around nothing. a laugh wracks his frame at the sight, the aftermath of it husky. amused. "begging to be filled, a'right. how many cocks has she had in 'ere?"

"just mine, sir. and her toys."

"how about at once?"

kyle's never been so bold with you; has always held back that godless part of him, that needy dog he sees his comrades often embrace. pure, unfettered degeneracy. you're soft, and pretty and good and a high-functioning member of society. and he's never once wanted to see you hurt, uncomfortable or bite-mark-bloodied, despite the way his mind screams at him to at least ask. see if you'd be willing to appease that side of him.

yet you visibly shiver at the thought proposed by price, gooseflesh pocking your skin, and he knows he should have thrown caution to the wind.

"one, sir."

he watches the man's finger outline the circumference of your opening, dipping in by the millimetre to test the waters. "shame. could probably stretch her out. get 'er nice and loose for whenever you wan' something to keep you warm without the commitment."

the finger plunges in.

gaz watches you swallow his superior to the last knuckle in what must be a world-record, no time to blink lest he misses it. price goes with the motion, setting his free hand onto your ass to keep you steady as he wiggles his digit to make space amidst the tight embrace of your walls. or, that's what he thinks is happening. the only indication he has of things are the lewd squelches your cunt emits and the face of pure ecstasy you pull. but he's well-versed enough in your bodily functions that he's sure of his estimate.

"scratch wha' i said. nothing beats this." his superior groans, and for the first time that night, adjusts himself in his pants. kyle wishes he would pull it out, allow himself the relief of freeing a raging hard-on from its confines. but kyle also wishes that he could be given something to do, something with his mouth perhaps, to sate the unaddressed thrill in his bones. it wouldn't take a smart man to figure out that both wishes are very much correlated. "fucking suffocating clutch. wouldn' pull out if my life depended on it. pussy like this isn' made for that, garrick."

"sir?"

"you cum inside her, lad?"

"i- yes. i-i do. she's on birth control."

"best to see to that, then." he says, like the contraceptive is an obstacle and not a consolation. you release another, long-winded moan, to which price pulls his finger out to pat your vulva. like taming a wild animal. "though what i said still stands. could always do with a loose hole."

his hand inches up.

this time, it's gaz who groans.

loudly. his eyes fluttering halfway shut, hands tugging at the tight fabric over his groin. you throw a curious look over your shoulder, concern glossing your pupils until you confirm that the source of the sound isn't pain, but pleasure. ecstasy at finally having his wants vocalised, that incessant impulse that nags and nags and nags anytime he's fucking you from behind, tight rim practically leering up at him, tempting him to thrust upwards and 'accidentally' slip in.

"you like that, sergeant? hm? ever use this asshole? it looks unbroken to me."

"y-you're... not wrong, sir. i–"

"but you want to?" he finishes for him, scooping some of the abundant slick from your cunt and slathering it onto your back entrance. it's not enough lubrication to do anything but press one thumb in, but he repeats the process to push the other in alongside it.

"yeah."

you give him a look that can't mean anything except we'll talk about this later and he can bloody kiss price if he was given permission to, if not for anything but helping him open this impossible subject with you.

"we'll see to tha' some other day, then."

his thumbs retreat. your hole winks shut again. gaz is torn between looking at you or his captain, but the latter man robs him of the indecision by bringing his dominant index and middle fingers to his lips. they're shiny with the remnants of your fluids, as if he needed any incitement to wrap his mouth around the digits. he works at them until price's fingers prune, laving his tongue around the knuckles, against the nail beds, all the way through to the fold of skin between them.

so desperate to please, to see to it that 'some other day' is everyday henceforth.

a future with price by your sides. beyond just the field. the bite in your supple existence. spice supporting anise and jasmine, some aphrodisiac blend that'll carry you through to the end of your lives, happy. sated. a mediator. commander. captain. his captain.

"that's a good boy."

he could really get used to this.

[selineram3421]

👁️

You're Off-key

Part 1

Prologue

Reader X Gravity Falls

Warnings ⚠

⚠ italics=thoughts, swear words, some or many book of bill spoils, blood, mentions of a concussion, minor panic attack, we pacing now lol, ugh Disney mention ⚠

Ow..

You woke up in pain and the sunlight hitting your eyes.

Everything hurt.

Like a lot.

Geez.. You thought with a groan. Why is everything so bright? What is this vividness? Disney?

Sitting up, you notice that you're still in the woods and it's around noon or at least in the afternoon. Rubbing the back of your head, you try to remember what happened.

I was in the woods..with spaghetti and..my best friend was going to take my picture. Ow-!

You hiss and you pull your hand away from your head, finding blood once getting a look at it.

"Oof ok, time to go get help.", you said to yourself and stood up.

Like any gamer out there, you checked your surroundings before checking your inventory. So far you were deep in the woods that looked oddly..cartoonish? And you had a backpack nearby with a water bottle, phone, and wallet inside.

Where's my flashlight? Wait, I had a flashlight? Also, where's by bestie?

Every time you thought about it your head would start hurting.

"Never mind that, I have to get moving before it gets dark out.", you sighed and began walking.

In all honesty, you did not know where you were going. Just picked a direction and decided that was good enough. Maybe you'll find civilization or maybe you're walking deeper into the woods. Who knows!

My brain is a little optimistic right now. You thought. Or maybe it's due to lack of sleep.. I was driving the whole time.

Then you started getting a little clumsy.

Tripping, swaying, falling flat on your face a few times, and overall just feeling drained. Also, you kept hearing maracas? Was that some kind of bird or something?

Ah, wait. Wasn't that the Hide Behind? You remembered about reading it in Journal 3 and that scene when Mabel says maraca owl. Maybe it is a maraca owl or maybe it's the tall thing that follows people.

Currently, you were laying on the ground because you fell..haha. AGAIN.

Thank Glob you landed on grass this time.

Ok. Do I or do I not take a nap? Probably not the best choice because I might have a concussion. Hm..the choices.

Deciding on one last try, you push yourself off the ground, take a quick sip of water, and continue on your journey! Nothing was gonna stop you now-!

Oh, a bird!

Then you ran into something, fell back and hit your head on the ground.

It was silly because it was kinda like a light switch.

You were awake and then you passed out,

Ha!

⯅

OW! How many times am I going to wake up in pain!?

"Great job Dipper! You killed someone!", a feminine voice said.

"They aren't dead! They just hit their head and passed oUt after they fell!", another voice says with a slight voice crack.

"Haha ha!", the girl laughs. "Your voice cracked."

Slowly waking up, you feel a type of rocking motion, like you're in a car or something.

A car!?

You sit up quickly. Too quickly and almost fall out of the golf cart but someone manages to pull you back to the seat.

"Whoa! Careful, you do not want to fall out of this thing when going almost full speed.", the female voice says next to you.

Looking over, you find a brown haired girl wearing a keyboard sweater.

"Hi! I'm Mabel! I have a pet pig named Waddles!!", she introduces herself loudly.

You feel your head hurt at her polite screeching.

"Ow. Hold on, give me a sec.", you say and rub your forehead.

"Uh.. Mabel? It's not a good idea to be loud around someone who just woke up after hitting their head.", the guy says, who you are assuming is driving the golf cart.

"Oops.", the girl, Mabel, smiles at you sheepishly. "My bad."

You wave her off.

"It's fine, I've dealt with worse.", you reassure.

"Let me start again.", she says and extends a hand for you to shake. "I'm Mabel and the one driving the golf cart is my twin brother, Dipper."

"STOP THE CART!"

The golf cart screeches to a stop and you hobbled your way out, beginning to pace back and forth.

Holyshitthisexplainsalot!That'swhyeverythingwassobrightandcartoonybecasuethisisfuckingDisneyshit!AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH-!

"Uh..you ok there?", Mabel asks.

"Um? Maybe? I-", you begin but then panic about what to say next.

Shitshitshitshit! Think of something! Anything!

"I don't remember how I got into the woods..", you say and cringe.

Yeah! Nice job! Now you're suspicious! YA DOINKUS!

"O..k, so you hit your head harder than we thought.", Dipper speaks up. "Let's get you patched up and see what we can do from there, ok?"

Pros: Going with two of your favorite characters will lead to adventures. Cons: They might try to read your mind to see if you're a threat and might threaten you with some random weapons..

.....

"I guess I can go with you guys until I can go to the hospital or something.", you say and finally stop imprinting foot prints into the dirt.

"Cool!", Mabel cheers. "Let's go! I've got Mabel juice in the fridge and I wanna see if the new dinosaurs inside taste different!"

"That's not how that works.", her brother mumbles and puts the golf cart in drive.

Hopping back on, you notice your backpack was opened.

"Uh? Who raccooned into my pack?", you asked.

"Racooned?", the Pines driving asks.

"Dug through your stuff? That was Dip.", Mabel says, completely understanding what you meant.

"Oh, sorry.", Dipper pipes up. "That was to see your ID, nothing else. I mean, wouldn't you try to identify someone after they passed out randomly?"

He is kinda right.

"Understandable racooning.", you say and start to brain storm ideas for a plan on how to stay under the radar.

Ok, so I might have/most likely freed Bill and now I have to do something about it before he's running wild around Gravity Falls again...fun.

You sigh and just decide to sit back and enjoy the ride for now.

Jerk didn't let me keep the pictures.

The sun was starting to set, within a few minutes you saw the Mystery Shack in the distance.

23 1 12 11 9 14 20 15 20 8 5 16 9 14 5 19

~Seline, the person.

Part 2

Taglist@

@diffidentphantom @sleep-7372 @boredwithlifeatthispoint @mspurpl3 @+?

GF List🏞️ | YO-🎹

[konigsblog]

imagine waking up chained to a metal table, with a doctor who wants to do all sorts of experiments on you... (⁠*⁠´⁠ω⁠｀⁠*⁠)

[king-dumbasz]

You miss his warmth

Mammon x gn reader

Mammon is out for a meeting at night and when he comes back he finds you in your (shared) bed hugging a plushie of himself

Warnings: No one (just some bad words)

You and Mammon are in his office, talking about work. Actually, it's more gossip than "work". When suddenly the sin's phone rings. Mammon answers

"Mhm... Mhm.. yeah.. yeah no shit... Okayyy I'll be theree"

The greedy bastard growls

"Why do they have to have royal meetings that late? Can't they do it when I have time? I can't miss my beauty sleep!"

Mammon continues to complain about the royal meeting at night. Then you answer*l

"Will you be back soon?"

The sin looks at you, he knows that won't, he'll probably be back very late

"i don't think so, babe, sorry.. but you'll be there to wait for me, right?"

You look at Mammon with a slightly sad face, but you nod, because you'll never leave that greedy fat cutie sad

"Of course I will"

"Well, it's good to know that I have someone to wait for me at Home!"

LATER THAT NIGHT

You're at home... Alone.. with some fizzy-bots, yes, but still alone. It's weird to be home in that big mansion without your big spider boyfriend yapping about how to make more and more money. It was quiet, and relaxing, but you missed him.

You wait and wait, but he never comes. After a while you eventually feel sleepy, so you decide to go to the bathroom to change into your pyjamas and then go under the covers in your bed to prepare sleep and wake up the next day with Mammon close to you. Something feels off though.... You miss his warmth

You miss his four arms hugging you tight

You miss his loud snoring keeping you awake

You miss him

After around 30 minutes that you can't fall asleep you give up and go search in the closet, a secret box where you always told Mammon there were shoes in. When you open the box there's a little plushie of the sin of greed. An adorable little green fuck as a plushie.

You go back to bed, hugging the plushie, and with a smile on your face you fall asleep

After the royal meeting, Mammon finally comes back home, tired as fuck. He goes in the bedroom, but at first doesn't notice you hugging the little himself and just goes out on his sleeping clothes, but when he comes back he notices, oh yes he notice.

There you are, wrapped around the blanket like a caterpillar in the cocoon, ready to become a beautiful butterfly, while hugging the little sin of greed made of stuffing. Mammon's heart melts, as he immediately takes a picture. He goes under the covers and hugs you tightly in a warm hug. So now Mammon is hugging [reader's name] who's hugging Mammon. Ironic, right?

"You really are an adorable little fuck, are ya love?"

The sin of greed says in your ear. As both of your breaths start to match as they sleep comfortably, getting the rest they needed, and getting ready for the next day...

(Mammon teased the shit out of you the next day after finding you hugging his plushie)

[lovingjakeseresin]

since glen powell being a cowboy is back i need all my old top gun writers to rise from the grave again!!!!!!!

[xo-cod]

ok but like. soap def sucks on your clit for fun. he doesn’t care if he made you cum like three times already, he’s bored and wants to play w ur pussy!

!!! this man lives for clit sucking, it's not his fault you've got him hooked on the feeling of you and it's definitely not his fault you taste so damn good 😩‼️

and it mainly happens on relaxing days like when you're both watching a movie and he's all fidgety and bored, instead looking at you and playing with your hair and or your fingers. but his hand tends to trail lower and lower (at your whimpers and begging) until his hands are toying with your clit eliciting a groan from both of you

johnny is so feral when it comes to you. when he gives oral, he gives oral. and he'll keep going until you have to push him away. the lower half of his face covered with your essence, his two fingers lazily pumping in and out of you, his soft groans falling from his lips at how much he's enjoying it, him grinding his erection in the mattress because he's so turned on for you <33

he absolutely loves your clit and there's been times where he's accidentally made you overstimulated and overwhelmed with the pleasure because he can't help himself <3

[hanafubukki]

Thinking about how Lilia would be very possessive and protective of you. This fae has gone through countless losses throughout his life, so it made him cherish and possessive to everything and everyone around him.

He was protective of his boys as well, always ready to strike down any who would even think to harm them.

This applied to you, the hand on your back or waist. The way he wouldn’t shy away from kissing your cheek or your neck.

Lilia is greedy for love and he wouldn’t allow anyone to take it away from him ever again.

[babyjakes]

greedy. [blurb.]

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | august '23 general requests blurb night

summary | lloyd loves making you cry and cum.

pairing | dark!daddy!lloyd hansen x little!reader

warnings | ddlg. lloyd feels pretty dark in this so probably non/dubcon. smut!!: restraints. crying kink. fingering. the black exam gloves :^). toys: magic wand. implied?? multiple orgasms. overstimulation. lil bit of choking. petnames. mocking/degradation. forced eye contact.

word count | 299

requested by anon | I miss your dark Daddy Lloyd! Can we get crying kink + vibrators? I love when you use toys in your fics 🤤

an | ooh yes, i was kind of hoping to write something filthy for lloyd today hehe >:^) and he has quite the selection of toys, i just know it!! hope you enjoy, and thanks for your request!! <333

Lloyd's laugh is laced with a dark sense of cruelty as he finally sees what he's looking for: a thin layer of tears building in your droopy eyes as you grind your teeth and struggle. He flicks the magic wand up a notch, holding it steadily in place as you writhe against the ropes holding you securely in place. Your daddy has set you up like this on purpose, with your thighs tied to your calves and your hands up over your head as you lay so prettily on his leather desk chair; he prefers to give you just the tiniest bit of wiggle room, simply because he loves seeing you squirm.

"There you go, princess. Took you long enough to give those pretty tears to Daddy," he croons as he forces two of his thick digits back up into your tight little cunt. The black nitrile gloves he's wearing only add to the slick, hot friction, and before you know it, he has you throttling towards another climax with no chance of slowing down or bracing yourself.

"Look at that, there you go again," he grins sickly as he swirls the head of the wand right up against your poor, aching clit, ripping his fingers out of you just in time to grab you by the throat as you tumble over the edge.

"Look at me, baby. Look Daddy in the eyes as you cum," Lloyd growls, his smile growing as more tears burst from your eyes. Your whimpers and babbles fail to form words as your dripping pussy clenches around nothing. "Good, keep cumming," your tormentor instructs as your juices crackle against the relentless buzzing of the wand. "Keep cumming and crying for me, sweetheart. That's all you gotta do, just keep giving it all to me."

[peachetteprice]

Born For It | Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Enter: Rich-boy!Gaz who was never born into wealth, but rather, born for it.

Thankfully, his blagging skills were never subpar, as convincing the wealthiest blonde bimbo at a conference in Fort Lauderdale would have proved tricky had he not mastered the art of running his delicious mouth. It was, in his own words, piss-easy to convince the woman he was 'in love with' that he was, in fact, a very well-off, well-known auditor for numerous major tech companies, and he was, additionally, all too talented at forging the paperwork for a 2024 Kia Stonic in cerulean blue – that certainly did not cost him a month's worth of groceries to rent for two weeks – to prove that it was truly all his. And, goodness, thank the creator that his father was so devoted to owning three gorgeous, pin-striped Italian suits before he passed, otherwise he would have nothing prim and proper to wear on their first, second, third, fourth, and fifth dates! Well, before he devoured her on her velvet couch and stole her hand in marriage, of course.

Naturally, he takes to the role of pompous, spoilt, entitled husband like a moth to a flame, as he has an inordinate ability to stretch the truth with his long Ralph Lauren fleeces tucked at the elbows, VVS diamond-studded watches, and tinted Versace sunglasses.

Oh, but don't be fooled by the crass social act: the man knows a con artist when he sees one.

He doesn't spend long at the country club with a glass of red in hand, talking to Brian and James and Marcus and their wives Tiffany, Tiffany 2, and Tiffany 2.5, respectively, about the recent tax evasion scandal from Johnsons and Co. (and how they all might do it better without getting caught) before he spots you across the outdoor pool on a sun chair: the young, recently wed beauty with ample time left on your wrist to be doing anything with your life other than seduce poor, geriatric, twice-divorcée, once-widowed, thrice-Viagra'd Mr. Shepherd – or, more crucially – the vast riches he carries in those flabby jowls of his, just ripe enough for the taking as soon as that weak heart of his drops him dead in the shower on a cold Tuesday morning, months later.

It's a shame, really, that the old dog didn't put his conversation skills into the will, because it takes Kyle no more than three minutes of ogling to read the smudged guilt and lost desire on your face, and poses, to you, over a kiss on the knuckles and a well-timed whisper into your ear, the question of joining him one day for lunch in his large, supersized, monstrous mansion that hardly gets used by his married-to-her-work-first wife who, herself, would never think of Kyle wishing to screw another woman on the weekends to entertain himself in such a lonely... drab... suburb.

It does perplex you a little a first, especially when you aren't certain why he wants you of all the women at the country club, when every wife, waitress and pool girl would burst open their bras and dangle their naked breasts in his face at just a chance of that silver tongue on their bodies, because he's simply that irresistible.

Though, you do agree. In fact, you have to.

Not only because he knows your golden secret to greed, and has been known to – again – run that scrumptious mouth of his to anyone he can throw under the bus for another grand or two, but because it's clear to anyone that dear-old Shepherd's cock does nothing for a pretty pussy like yours, and you desperately need to cream over his thick, severing, thigh-splitting one until you cum, to make up for all the flab he wiggles in and around your folds at nine in the evening before he conks out in his silk pyjamas – he has to wake up early to catch the morning run of his favourite radio show, don't you remember?

And you wouldn't tell on him even if you could, even if he didn't have his wife's lawyer on speed-dial, due to that legally-binding, twenty-three page contract locked within a safe in your makeup drawer which clearly states that anything of yours from the inheritence – whenever your old biddie shoots the gun, kicks the bucket or collects his final paycheck, that is – is automatically his, too, as well as the properties in Toulouse, the estate in Dubai, the stocks and shares in Google and Facebook that only ever seem to be going up... oh, and that divine cunt of yours he laps up like a starved dog whenever his wife is away.

| Masterlist |

[haikyuuhoo]

Writing this simply because today is my birthday and I wanted to be selfish. Also it’s unedited bc I just got home and now I’m gonna go eat dinner <3

You let out a heavy breath as you step over the threshold into your apartment, your shoulders already aching from the weight of carrying around your backpack full of books all day. You drop your keys on the table by your front door and start to remove your bag.

It’s only Monday and you already feel exhausted just from the anticipation of the upcoming week. That, and the fact that the night before you’d gone out to dinner with a group of your friends to celebrate your birthday. Technically your birthday was today, but you were all so busy during the week that it was a hassle to be able to get everyone together at once. Plus, you never really cared all that much about celebrating your birthday, so you didn’t mind the fact that your only plans for tonight were to curl up on your couch with the book you’ve been reading. Really, it sounded like the perfect night in.

You start to head to your bedroom, ready to change into some more comfortable clothes, but movement in your kitchen catches your eye. Your heart nearly stops beating before you register the shock of white hair disappearing behind your pantry door. “Satoru?” you breathe, taking a step in the opposite direction you’d just been intending to go.

Your boyfriend peeks his head back out, and you catch the glint of his eyes over his sunglasses as he smiles at you. “Oh, you’re home already, traffic must’ve been light today!”

Your backpack falls to the floor with a thud as you rush over to him, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. The little “oof” that Satoru lets out makes your heart flutter—the subconscious dropping of his infinity around you is never subconscious to you. “What are you doing here?” The words are muffled against his shoulder, and you feel yourself melt as he raises a hand to cradle the back of your head and pull you impossibly closer to him.

Gojo had been away for the past two weeks on missions and business, and wasn’t due to come back for another six days. It had momentarily saddened you that he wasn’t able to join you and your friends for dinner the night before, especially with how busy the two of you had been between him always away on missions and you always busy with grad school, but once you were there and enjoying the night it was out of your mind—plus, the money he’d Venmoed you to cover your bill more than made up for it.

“It’s your birthday, did you really think I was gonna miss it?”

You tilt your head back to look up at him, bringing your hands up to cup his cheeks. “But you’re supposed to be working,” you scold. “You know I don’t care when we celebrate.”

“And you know that I do.” He grins down at you. In the three years you had been dating, Satoru hadn’t let your birthday go by without doing something the day of, even if the proper celebration was moved to a more convenient time. “Now go get changed. I was trying to find something to make you dinner, but it looks like you haven’t gotten groceries in weeks.”

You feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment as you pull back slightly. “I know, I’ve just been—“

“—busy,” he hums and leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “I know. I’ll just order something from that place you like and we can watch a movie or something. That sound okay?”

Your shoulders drop, some of the tension from the day fading away. “That sounds perfect,” you whisper, and you close the distance between you two to kiss him again.

Gojo’s hands drop to your waist, pulling you flush against him as your hands slip up into his hair.

“I’ve missed you,” you murmur.

Gojo leans his forehead against yours. “I’ve missed you too. ‘S why I couldn’t miss this.”

You smile, pressing one more quick kiss to his lips before pulling away to go change.

Gojo quickly places a delivery order for dinner before he waltzes over to your bedroom—it doesn’t even take him ten steps to cross the distance of your one-bedroom apartment—and leans against the doorframe.

“Admiring the view?” you tease as you pull a t-shirt over your head, your favorite pair of sweats already on as you turn to face him.

“Mmm, I was beginning to forget what it looked like,” he drawls.

You scoff and grab his hand, pulling him with you toward the couch. “Those pictures I sent you yesterday say otherwise.”

The grin that spreads over Gojo’s face is nearly blinding. “And I should’ve asked for more of them.” He stops walking, tugging you back against him and burying his face in the crook of your neck. “You looked so good, baby.” He presses kisses down your shoulder, and you can nearly feel him frown against you as he notices the tension there.

“I’m fine,” you insist before he can say anything, and you move away to go sit on the couch.

“Can’t believe they make you have so many books,” he huffs as he picks up your backpack from where you’d let it fall, instead setting it on the chair at the table where you normally do your homework.

You shrug, grabbing the remote and beginning to look for a movie for you two to watch. “How are those big textbook companies ever gonna make any money if they don’t make a new edition each year and force you to buy it instead of allowing you to get it cheaper from someone who took that class last year?” you quip, making Gojo snort as he sits next to you.

He wraps an arm around your shoulders, not even paying attention to the options on the screen as he lets his gaze settle on your face.

“You should let me give you a massage,” he says after a few minutes of silent scrolling, and you raise your eyebrows.

“Dinner and a massage? Gojo Satoru, you might just be giving me the best birthday yet,” you tease with a smile.

And he grins in return. “And I’m not done yet. Plus, who’s to say there’s nothing in it for me? I can’t very well give you a massage with your shirt on can I?”

The laugh you let out makes Gojo’s heart soar, and he brushes his fingers against the bare skin of your bicep as he watches you.

“You leave for two weeks and revert back to a desperate horny teenager, huh?”

“Emphasis on the desperate,” he says as he lifts you up in a fluid motion, carrying you back to your bedroom as your laughter fills the apartment.

Later, when you’re sitting between Gojo’s legs and eating dinner while you watch the movie you both picked, you tilt your head back to look up at him. “Thank you for coming home,” you whisper. It’s dark and you can’t see his eyes through his sunglasses, but you keep your gaze locked there anyway, feeling the way his eyes shift to look down at you.

He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. “No need to thank me. I’ll come home every year,” he promises, and you know by the way that he squeezes your hand that he means it.

[richeeduvie]

Hey BCS and Succession lovers…

(Yes, to the people who’ve managed to follow me, I’m quick with it)

I’m richeeduvie, a fellow lover of BCS and Succession.

I have loads of fanfic content dealing with self-inserts for Roman Roy and Lalo Salamanca, but I also write and have been writing for other Better Call Saul and Succession characters for over an year now 😌. About a month and a half ago, my blog was marked explicit (wrongly) and I suffered the consequences of my content being seen by me unless my followers/mutual went through about three setting loopholes.

Still, I wrote an embarrassing amount of things for Lalo and Roman (and Logan-) during that month and a half and if you don’t want to miss out on any content cause if you’re like me and able to consume an unnecessary amount of fanfiction of characters who don’t exist, then you’ll enjoy me 😌.

I don’t know if what I wrote during my time will ever appear in tags, but all you have to do is search of #richeeblockedblogera for my fanfic content that I wrote when my blog was marked explicit or if my old content will ever appear in the tags again as well. But it’s lots of stuff. Fun stuff.

Anyways, here’s the masterlists for Roman and Lalo. Please do read if you’d like, I still have to updated and create new masterlists so what you see isn’t even half of it, but that’s just my procrastination talking. But I just want to take this time to say I AM UNSHACKLED!!!!

[deviouz]

vere exudes massive switch energy. he can whimper really pretty, but can also make other people whimper really pretty.

[konigsblog]

warnings: corruption kink, age gap (40s and 20s), virginity loss, female anatomy and use of ‘girl’, mdni.

price and his new rookie... 18+

price who adores how niave you are, how inexperienced you are in both this line of work and sexual experience. it almost makes him laugh when you lick a stripe up his shaft meekly, nervously sucking on his leaking tip as he pushes you down onto his wide dick. “c'mon, dollface - you can take it all.. ain't that right? these pretty lips takin' it whole...”

his cruel grin makes your panties wet, cunny slick and sloppy as you begin sucking his thick cock. it's a struggle, especially with his girth; wide and veiny and stretching the sides of your mouth before you gag down on his length. a low and guttural chuckle emitting from his chest as he teases you for getting teary eyed.

you should be glad that he doesn't mind the sounds of gagging... face fucking you 'til you're pushing at his hips and whining, nose forced into his musky pubes as he spurts deep into your throat. his large hand cradles the crown of your skull, his hard and stiff cock shoved down your strained, sore throat with his free hand pressed against your nape as he feels himself bulge out.

bent over his desk with his heavy, sloppy cock pressed against your slit, rubbing it against your lips while teasing you for not being able to answer basic questions about the military. he slaps his tip against your sensitive clit, a mewl flowing through swollen lips before gasping, his calloused and rough hand colliding with your tight ass whenever you get the answer wrong. you should know this already, how did you pass selection with your knowledge?

he'll drag out your orgasm, taking draws from his cigar and blowing the smoke into your face, your head tilted to the side as he forces you to maintain eye contact with him. each vein dragging against your soft, gummy walls, full balls smacking against your aching pussy. your captain is ruthless with his pace; rutting into you and rubbing your clit in soothing circles whilst you beg for his cum, pounding against you before slowing down, continuing to deny your desperate release.

only when you're begging, fucking yourself down onto his size frantically will he let you cum. squirting all over important files and reports, your slick and cum coating his hairy, musky balls as he thrusts deep into you - shooting hot strings of load into your tight, virgin hole. “god- fuckkkk..- look at you, rookie. this pussy tightenin' right 'round me.. what a greedy, sweet girl.”

maybe, if you'd been so sweet to him, he'd eat you out. sat on his desk with your legs spread wide open, his face between them as he sucks on your slick covered clit, stimulating the nub with the tip of his tongue. his tongue presses between your wet, sopping slit as you buck into his face, rubbing your sore cunt against his beard and covering him in your scent. god, his beard practically stinks of your pussy afterwards; covered in the aroma of your sweet, nectar juices and the arousal from your needy hole, his tongue curling inside as you moan softly, screaming his name.

“that's captain to you, rookie.”

[mrsoharaa]

being blindfolded, wrists tied behind your arched back and being mindlessly fucked on Satoru's lap while Suguru stands behind you, gently caressing your extended throat with gentle touches and watches you intently get ruthlessly slutted out by his former best friend.