#Like the lower half of my hair in layers

[derbophobia]

ok FINE ill talk to my therapist about my New Problem that ive always known could develop from Weird Habit to Genuine Bonafide Issue

[nanaslutt]

Perv!Geto taking care of you while you're sick

note: if you keep up with my perv!geto series, this takes place after reader & geto are together, if you don't, just read this as an established relationship fic :)

—

contains: fem reader, whipped!geto, masturbation, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, teasing, nipple play, panty licking/sniffing, cum eating, fantasizing, slight somno

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Geto had been taking care of you for about a week now, but not in the hot, steamy, limbs-tangled-together-for-hours-on-end way. You had come down with a horrible cold right after Christmas, and being your roomie and boyfriend—Geto was attending to your every need.

It had been exactly seven days since you had first come down with the sickness. At first, it started off as a sore throat and nothing more, but the days following would turn into your own personal hell. Every single symptom of the flu managed to take over you, making you wish Geto would've killed you the night before you got sick when he was choking you out while fucking you dumb.

Geto had been so attentive throughout your whole sickness. He had brought you a cold wet rag every hour, slept with you at night, made sure you were eating no matter how much you didnt feel like it, held your hair when you got sick, and literally carried you all around the house when you wanted to go somewhere.

It even got to a point where he had to help you shower, sitting you down between his thighs on a small shower stool he instructed you to close your eyes while he massaged the shampoo into your hair, not wanting any to go into your eyes—you didnt need to be in any more pain than you already were.

Geto took your temperature every hour to make sure you never got too hot. If it did, he would've rushed you to the hospital in an instant. Luckily your fever broke after the third day, which meant for the last couple of days, you had been able to walk around the house yourself if you needed something. Granted if Geto saw you out of bed he scooped you up and immediately tucked you back into the sheets, demanding you tell him what you need so he could get it for you.

Geto loved taking care of you, he loved pampering you and doing mundane things for you, which is why he didnt mind helping you so much. The only downside to you being sick though.. no sex.

Since the two of you had started hooking up, even before you made things official, the both of you never went more than two days doing something sexual with one another. Of course, Geto felt so bad you were sick, and he wanted you to get better asap just for the sake of you not being sick anymore--but being able to have sex with you again was going to be a nice bonus.

Geto had to seriously restrain himself when you pressed yourself back into him, trying to steal his body heat while you were half asleep. He had to squeeze his eyes shut and think of Gojo in order to not pop a boner right now. Geto doesn't think he's ever thought about Gojo so much in one week.

When he had you naked in front of him in the shower, your body swaying while you tried to keep yourself away as the warm water hit your skin, he was so glad you were facing away from him. You had just spent the entire night being sick in the bathroom, you had a splitting headache and were barely staying conscious for christ sake and here he was, hard as a rock as he rubbed the washcloth over your soft skin, cleaning every inch of your body.

One night, he had woken up in the middle of the night and saw the comforter that was once covering the two of you, was discarded at the edge of the bed--your shaking frame exposed to his eyes. He made you wear only a tank top and panties to bed that night to try and lower your body temperature. You had protested of course, but you must've gotten hot at some point, as there was a thin layer of sweat on your skin.

Geto immediately knew he was hard, he didnt even have to look. Your ass was pressed right against his crotch, cradling his stiff cock perfectly. He knew his erection wasn't going to go away unless he did something about it. Every neuron in his brain was telling him to use your thighs, just slide his cock between your cold thighs and rub it back and forth, rubbing against your panty-clad cunt in the process.

Of course, he knew he wouldn't actually do it, but it wouldn't stop him from fantasizing about it. He slid back from your body slightly, giving himself just enough room to slide his hand into his boxers and pull out his stiff cock, the tip already leaking with pre.

He tried to focus on the curve of your ass in the darkness, wishing you were in a more vulnerable position so he could see your pussy better, but this would have to do. He started stroking his cock slowly, so as to not wake you from the shaking of his arm.

Geto bit his lip to keep himself quiet as he jerked off. Shaky breaths could be heard through the room if one focused enough. Geto reached out slowly to grab your hip, just to feel your skin, to give himself something.

He felt a shock of electricity shoot down to his dick the second he touched you, his lips pressing together to suppress a groan. His hand traveled down further the closer he got to his high. He softly groped your ass, massaging and rubbing the fat there to help him cum quicker.

Your scent was all around him, it was making him dizzy. You were so close, so fucking close, and he couldn't even do anything about it. When he felt himself approach the edge he squeezed his eyes shut, tightening his hand over his cock as he groped you harder, praying you wouldn't wake up right now.

He imagined his hand being your cunt, pulsing and squeezing around his cock as he fucked the both of you towards your orgasms. You would be so loud, crying out for him has he impaled you on his cock. Would you squirt? He bet you would.. he always made you squirt when he fucked you on your side like this.

All he had to do was lift your leg and pull your panties aside and he could slip his cock inside you, finishing himself off deep inside your warm cunt instead of wasting his load in his hand—the load he had wanted to save for you.

He was going to cum so much, and it was going to be so thick he felt bad wasting it like this, but he had no choice. Not when he wanted to cum this bad and he was so close. Absentmindedly, his thumb had slid down to your cunt, and softly pressed it against your clothed hole. When your body shifted forward and you softly grunted in your sleep, that's all he needed to send him over the edge, his orgasm crashing down over him in that moment.

The rush of almost getting caught made him cum ten times harder. His hand retracted from your cunt as he grabbed the tip of his dick, catching his seed in the palm of his hand, careful to not spill any on your bed. He rolled onto his back, still jerking himself off through his orgasm as his body hunched in on itself with the intensity of his orgasm.

He bit his lip hard, nothing but heavy breathing spilling from his nose as he did his best to keep quiet, stroking himself off through the aftershocks of his high. When he started to come down, he let his lip go from the confines of his teeth, sighing heavily into the quiet room.

He was right, his load was so thick and there was so much of it, it really was a shame he had to waste it--he thought as he washed it down the sink, scrubbing his hands clean with your sweet-smelling soap before he crawled back into bed with you.

—

Now it was seven days later, and you had dragged yourself out of bed to grab something to drink, not being able to take lying around in bed anymore. Geto heard the commotion in the kitchen and walked around the corner, watching you standing on your tippy toes, your ass peeking out under his large shirt you wore, the bottom half of your body clad in only a pair of panties.

He swallowed hard at the sight in front of him, reminding himself you were still very much sick as he felt his face heat up while he oggled the soft skin of your ass. "Hey, what are you doin' out of bed?" Geto's voice rang in your clogged ears, his large figure pressing against your back soon after he spoke. "It's okay Sugu, really.. I've been in bed for a week straight I need to move around or I'm going to- *cough* die.." You said, covering your mouth with your arm, your cough shaking Geto's body as he held on to you.

"Still no fever?" Geto asked, moving one of his hands up to press against your forehead, feeling the warm skin. You closed your eyes upon feeling his hand, humming at his touch. "..You're a little warm." He said after a beat, making you sigh. "Sugu I'm fine, really. I'm still pretty exhausted but I feel like I'm slowly getting better." He knew you were telling the truth.

After all, just a couple of days ago you couldn't even stand, and now you were walking around the house all on your own, so you must finally be getting better. "About time." He sighed, burying his face into the crook of your neck and kissing the skin there. You wrapped your arms around his that held your body, letting him rock you back and forth.

"Someone miss me?" You asked, you giggle getting cut off with a cough. It took Geto a second to realize you weren't talking about him. Your boyfriend groaned into your shoulder, keeping his arms around you but pulling his hips back so his erect cock wasn't poking into your ass. "He's always like that when I see you," Geto replied, mumbling into your neck.

His words made you giggle, "You're so cute. Sorry if I've been making it hard for you. I really should've been more careful, I didnt mean to get sick." You spoke in your hoarse voice. Geto raised his head from your neck, his large hand coming up to grab your face, turning you towards him. "No one means to get sick baby, I've been fine really, don't worry about me." He replied, caressing your cheek.

He pressed his lips to your forehead before he pulled away, grabbing the glass out of your hand to fill up your cup with water. Although his words said otherwise, you had a feeling Geto was having a harder time being abstinent than he led on.

You had been pretty out of it this past week and don't remember much, but you did recall the way Geto had averted his eyes every time they dared to linger on your body. He was constantly pulling your shorts and shirts down to cover your ass, and made a point to choose thicker fabric for the top so he couldn't see your hard nipples through the shirt. They were small details, but you had been living with Geto for a while, you had become observant.

When the dark-haired man turned back around, he was holding your glass of water. He held your waist in his hand and pressed the glass to your fingers, letting go when they wrapped around it. You closed your eyes when you felt his lips press to your forehead once more before his touch was gone altogether. "Get back to your room once you finish that, I'm gonna go.. call Satoru real quick, missed his call earlier." He lied through his teeth.

You nodded, and with that, he walked out of the room. That's when you knew that Geto was having a harder time with this than you thought, as he just lied to you. You weren't mad that he lied to you though, because you could piece together the real reason he escaped to his room—coincidentally right after you had pointed out his boner. He really was a terrible liar.

In any other situation, you would chase him down into his room and take his cock out of his hands, helping him out. But Geto was right, you needed to rest. You felt your fatigue creep up on you the longer you stood in the kitchen, taking small sips of your water.

After placing your glass down by the sink, you dragged your body towards your bedroom, stopping by Geto's on the way there, as you had to pass his room to get to yours at the end of the hall. As discreetly as you could, you pressed your ear against his bedroom, listening for any sounds of Geto getting himself off. You cursed your clogged ears, you couldn't hear anything at all.

Maybe he had already jerked off and gone to sleep? You were too tired to think about it any longer. You hadn't heard anything, so it made you feel a little better. If you had heard him pleasuring himself on the other side of the door, you would've felt a little guilty.

Geto held his palm over his lips, listening for the telltale sound of your door shutting before he let his gasps seep into the room. "Fuck.." He groaned, squeezing his cock at the tip, watching the white pearl of precum beat on the slit of his cock before it dripped down, meeting his fist as he stroked down the length of his cock.

He had heard your footsteps and seen your shadow standing outside the door, reacting quickly, he pressed his hand over his mouth and stopped his jerking in order to not get caught. He was still breathing pretty heavily, but he bet on your awful hearing right now that you wouldn't hear anything, and his gamble had paid off when you walked away soon after, slipping into your room to fall asleep once more.

"All I did was hug you and you got me this hard... fuck..." Geto mumbled under his breath, slipping his hand under his shirt to toy with his nipples while he squeezed his hand over his cock, trying to mimic the squeezing of your pussy. "Shiiiit-" He groaned, trying to keep his voice relatively quiet, keeping his ears open to hear if you moved around outside his room.

Geto flicked his fingers over his sensitive nipples, his abs clenching under his hand as he rubbed his thumb on his frenulum, massaging the sensitive spot to get him to his orgasm quicker. He wanted to go join you in your room and cuddle you to sleep, but he was in no shape to do so if he had a massive boner. He didnt need his neglected cock stabbing you in the back for hours on end, that couldn't possibly be comfortable.

seconds turned to minutes, and before he knew it, it had been half an hour and he still had not cum. You would for sure be asleep without him now. Fuck, why couldn't he cum? He was able to cum a couple days ago when you were next to him. Oh. Because you were next to him. Was he not able to cum without you in some way? Fuck, you had ruined him.

He let go of his throbbing cock and searched around his bed for his phone to scroll through pictures of you. The both of you had not yet taken any lewd pictures of each other, but he knew he would have no problem getting off to a picture of you even if you were in a snowsuit ten times bigger than you. He thought you looked like the most gorgeous person he'd ever seen when you were dying in bed all week, he was absolutely enamored with you.

"The fuck?" Geto mumbled, throwing his pillows off his bed in search of his phone. "Oh, you can't be serious." He sighed louder than intended. He had gone into your room roughly an hour before you walked into the kitchen to ask what you wanted for dinner, and he had set his phone down on your bedside table.

Geto rubbed his hands over his face, pulling the skin down dramatically in defeat. His imagination was just not cutting it, how was he supposed to get rid of this annoying boner if he couldn't even see your pretty face? Suddenly a lightbulb went off in his head. Your panties. Of course! Although the two of you were dating, he had made it clear to you that he still took immense joy in stealing your dirty panties and using them to get off. Although he masturbated less and less frequently since he started sleeping with you.

Quickly opening his drawer, he rummaged through the condoms, straw chords, and lighters in his bedside table, searching for your panties. "Come on, come on... fuck." Geto was quickly losing hope the more and more he dug. His drawer wasn't very big, and it wasn't very full, there were only so many corners he could check for the stolen panties.

He looked down to his exposed crotch when he realized your panties were absolutely not in his drawer. He was still hard, how was that even possible? Usually, when he got irritated or annoyed, his boner was killed in an instant, so why was this one sticking around? Geto silently cursed the universe for plaguing him with the opposite of erectile dysfunction, sighing as he grabbed his cock in his hand, slowly stroking his length while he looked at the ceiling, searching the crevasses in the walls for ideas.

After a good five minutes of sadly playing with his cock while trying to brainstorm ways to cum, he came to one conclusion. He had to get into your room to steal his phone back. With a sigh, he pulled his boxers on and slipped his grey sweats on over them, cringing at the obvious tent in his pants.

He pulled on his baggiest shirt and still, his cock could be seen through the fabric. Geto posed in front of the mirror, trying to gauge if it was all that obvious. Okay, say you are awake and he walks in with his hard cock poking out like a sore thumb. If he stood at this angle... under this lighting.. or maybe this angle? Yeah yeah.. this one.. you could barely see it.

Geto posed randomly in his full-length mirror, snapping back to reality when he realized he was hunched over with one leg sticking out in the most embarrassing and non-natural pose he could muster. "Fuck.. It's okay, it's just be in and out." He said out loud to himself in the mirror, standing up straight as he hyped himself up before he walked to his door and turned the knob, heading for your room.

—

It was not okay, nothing was okay. Nothing was more not okay than this. Geto stood in your doorway, watching with a saliva-filled mouth as you lay on your stomach, one knee bent, the leg curled up towards your head, your other straight pointed toward the end of the bed, giving Geto the most perfect view of your plump cunt pressing against your panties.

Geto closed his mouth, swallowing hard as his eyes zeroed in on your cunt. The light that shone through your room from the hallway illuminated your body perfectly, your skin almost glowing from the LEDs. Your panties were so thin they were allowing Geto to see everything. He could see your little slit and a small bump near the top of your pussy where your little clit was.

He palmed himself over his slacks, forgetting the reason why he came in here in the first place. He wrapped his hands over his cock through his slacks, jerking himself off, his damp boxers feeling strangely good on his sensitive length. He watched you shift slightly in your sleep, your leg raising itself higher, giving him an even better view of your cunt if possible.

He felt himself drip into his boxers, looking down he could make out a dark patch of cum seeping through on the front of his pants. Geto couldn't take it anymore, he was so hard, his cock and balls were aching for release, and you were right in front of him. Releasing his dick from his grip, he walked toward you and sat down on the side of your bed, rubbing your lower back and ass softly, trying to slowly wake you up.

He felt himself cringe when you moaned, your body stretching as you stared awake, your eyes cracking open. The headache you had been dealing with for days was still present, but a lot less intense, the water must've done its job while you slept.

As your eyes started to come into focus, the blurriness fading from them, you turned your body around, lying on your back. Geto's hand stayed on your body, his hand now rubbing your upper thigh, right next to your cunt. He tried to control himself at least long enough to explain what was going on, he didnt want to freak you out by pouncing on you while you weren't fully there.

"Sugu?" Your hoarse voice whispered, your hand landing on his bent knee as he faced you on the bed, a forced smile on his face. "Hi baby, I'm so sorry to wake you." He said genuinely. He felt his cock throb in his pants as your warm hand rubbed circles on his kneecap while you woke up fully. "'s okay Sugu.. 's everything okay?" You asked, your half-open eyes staring at him.

Geto decided he had waited long enough. You were forming coherent sentences--albeit slurred ones-- but you knew who he was and had registered his words, which was good enough for him. He slowly slotted himself between your thighs, sliding your legs over his large thighs and around his waist.

"Need you baby.." His deep voice whispered needily, his large hand coming down to grope himself over his pants while the other continued rubbing your soft thigh. A sudden warmth of arousal washed over you as your sleep-filled eyes dropped down to watch him palm his obviously hard cock. "I cant cum without you, been tryin' for so long, it hurts baby." He whispered, his eyes flitting between your cunt and your pretty flushed face.

"Sugu..." You whined softly, feeling yourself start to grow wetter the longer you watched him. "Don't need much baby, you can.. ngh- you can even go back to sleep if you want.." Geto said, reaching into his boxers he pulled out his cock, exposing his angry length to your eyes. "Just.. just need to see your little pussy, that's all." He finished.

Once he had his cock in his hand, he used the other to pull your panties down your thighs, exposing your twitching cunt to his hungry eyes. You blushed, watching silently with an open mouth as he pulled the cloth away from your body. "Oh fuck." He groaned. "Such a pretty fucking cunt."

Geto abandoned his hand on his cock for a second to slide help you bend your knees, sliding your panties completely off your body, keeping them in his hand. Your boyfriend shook his head as he stared at your cunt, which unbeknownst to him was getting wetter and wetter by the second.

"W-wait." You voiced when you watched Geto lift your panties up to his face. He paused his actions, smirking at you, his face full of lust. "I've teased you plenty, but you've never actually seen me use your panties, have you?" He asked, to which you shook your head, placing your hands over your face in embarrassment, peeking at him through your fingers.

"Sugu don't, they're d-dirty." You said, the heartbeat in your pussy increasing despite your words. "I know." He replied, pressing them against his nose. Your eyebrows furrowed, a dark blush spreading over your face as you watched Geto's eyes roll back in his head as he sniffed your panties, taking in the scent of your cunt. "Ohmygodd-" He groaned, jerking his cock faster as he felt a wave of arousal flood his pelvis.

"Baby you smell so good oh fuck- needed this- n-needed you." He groaned shamelessly. A drip of pre-cum dripped from the tip of his cock, landing between you on your sheets. You whimpered watching Suguru put on his little show for you, not daring to move your hands away from your face.

"You embarassed cutie?" Geto teased, bringing the panties away from his face to find the part that presses against your folds before he held it up to his mouth, his tongue darting out to taste the remnants of you while keeping his lidded eyes glued to yours. "You're so filthy.." You mumbled behind your hands.

Geto heard you loud and clear, his cock twitching in interest. "Hmm? What was that?" He asked, handing off the panties to his other hand as he wrapped the cloth around his cock, jerking off with it while his other came back to caress your upper thigh. "I- I said you're filthy." You said a little louder, watching him use the panties you had on seconds ago to masturbate with.

"And you love it don't you? Can see your pussy throbbing while you watch me use 'ur dirty panties to touch myself." He said, tipping his head to the side to allow the light in the hallway to seep past him and illuminate your wet cunt, allowing him a better view of his favorite sight.

"Fuck.. this is doing it for me baby, thank you, thank you so much." Geto babbled, watching your cunt throb under his intense gaze. "You really only need to look at um.. at it?" You said, dropping your hands from your face, and resting them on your chest. "Yeah.. fuck- can feel myself gettin' real close just from lookin' at your pretty pussy."

You moaned at his words, watching the tip of his dick drip more and more precut onto the sheets. "Can you.. maybe touch me a little?" You ask hesitantly, not wanting to push your body too far. "'s that okay?" He asked, his hand already making its way to your inner thigh, teasing the skin there. "Gently, I'm just feeling a little.." You let your words trail off, looking away from him.

Geto had to slow his hand down so he didnt cum too soon. Who knew you could be so cute when you were sick? He was used to you being demanding and assertive, clearly being sick took you down a notch. "You feelin' a little needy down there, hmm?" Geto finished for you, his thumb spreading your folds open, exposing the slick that resided inside your walls.

Geto smirked when you nodded, his cock twitching in response to seeing you so wet. "Want me to rub your clit? I'll be gentle." Geto asked sweetly, dipping his thumb into the entrance of your pussy, gathering some of the wetness on his thumb while he waited for your response. You nodded before speaking softly, "I'm not going to last long so don't make fun of me.." You admitted, feeling like you were already going to cum without him even touching you.

"Yeah?" Geto teased, his fingers splaying out on your pelvis as his thumb came down to rub small circles against your clit at the perfect pace and pressure. "Gonna cum real fast for me?" He continued, knowing how worked up you got from his words.

Now that he was actually touching you, he really had to be careful that he didnt blow his load too soon, his hand gripping himself at the base as he staved off his orgasm. You nodded, your hand coming down to weakly grab his wrist, your other arm covering your mouth as you coughed weakly into your arm. "You okay? 's it too much?" He asked, slowing his thumb on your swollen bud.

You felt yourself clench around nothing at the change of pace. You gripped his wrist a little harder, urging him to continue. "N-no *cough* Please don't stop." You begged, looking into his eyes. Geto picked up his pace on himself once more when he felt his orgasm fade a safe distance away, still being careful to be mindful of how close he was.

"You're so cute baby, so fucking cute." He praised, picking up the speed of his thumb on your clit, making your back arch, your eyes rolling back in your head as your chin tipped towards the ceiling, your head relaxing onto the soft pillow as Geto got you off. He dipped his thumb down to your entrance once more, collecting some more of your slick before he brought it back up to your clit, smiling at the little wet sounds it created.

Your soft whimpers started picking up in volume, your body squirming more against the sheets, which Geto noticed. "You getting close baby?" Geto asked, looking down at his own cock as he smeared his precut on your panties before wrapping the fabric back over his cock and jerking off with it, picking up his pace.

"Yeah.. feel it coming Sugu." You whispered, keeping your eyes shut as you relaxed into the bed, letting Geto do all of the work. "Good, good girl baby. Doing so well letting me get us off like this. 'S it feel good? You like it when I rub your clit?" Geto spoke softly, using his words to bring your to your orgasm.

"Y-yeah, feels s-so good Sugu.. always *cough* make me feel so good." You choked on your words a bit, trying to breathe through the pleasure so you didnt fall into a coughing fit.

Geto felt his orgasm rapidly approaching, but he needed you to cum first. He needed both of his hands to do what he wnated to do when he came. "That's right, just relax baby, let me take care of you, let me make you cum." He whispered, biting his lip when he felt your legs squeeze his waist, your hand gripping his wrist harder. "O-oh Sugu- I'm cumming I-I'm cumming-" You whimpered, your head thrashing against the pillow as your back arched with your pleasure, your eyebrows screwing together.

"'M right here, cum for me baby, yesyes- ohhhh fuck- yesss, that's right baby let it all out." Geto huffed out a laugh, speaking through his teeth as his thumb kept rubbing over your clit, helping you ride out your orgasm. He felt his balls tighten with his impending release when your arousal dripped from your hole, sliding down your ass. "Fuck, good job baby, good fucking girl." Geto praised, pulling his thumb back when he felt you push him away, being careful to not overstimulate you right now.

Your body twitched as you came down from your high, your eyes screwing open as your vision focused on the ceiling above you. Your view was slightly blurry from how sleeping cumming had made you, it took a lot more out of you than you had expected, even only playing with your clit.

Geto's voice brought you back to reality, your sleepy eyes slowly looking down at him, your chin tipping down in tandem as you looked at him. "Watch me, baby, need you to watch me while I cum in your panties."

His unexpected words made you feel hot all over, another gush of arousal leaking from your cunt. Geto tipped his head back, the light behind him illuminating his hair and his impressive frame, making him appear as if he was glowing.

You watched his jaw fall open as moans spilled from his lips, finding their way into your ears. Geto's hand over his cock looked blurry, save for the black fabric that was being yanked over his length as he worked himself up to his orgasm.

"Fuck- fuck-" Geto's back arched, his breath coming out in small gasps and pants as he was brought to the edge. His chin tipped down as he ripped your panties off of his cock with his free hand, his fingers quickly finding the part that cradles your cunt as he held it out right in front of his cock, stroking himself rapidly.

"Cumming- cum- fuck-" Geto grit through his teeth before the first rope of his cum shot out and landed on the crotch of your panties. You watched with tired eyes as he came all over the fabric, defiling it with his thick cum. "Nghhhh-" He groaned as he jerked himself off through his high, making sure every rope of his hot cum landed on your panties.

You fought the sleep from your brain as you watched him. He looked so pretty with his flushed face and slack jaw as he rode through the aftershocks of his orgasm, rubbing the tip of his cock on your panties to clean it off. Geto's eyes looked up to your own, his chest rising and falling as he breathed heavily, trying to recover from such an intense orgasm.

He smiled watching your sleepy eyes flutter, trying to stay open. Balling up the defiled panties, he threw them somewhere on your floor before he rubbed your thigh with his big hand soothingly, smiling at your face softly. "I'll clean you up, go to sleep baby, did so well for me, I love you. These were the last words you heard from your sweet boyfriend before you drifted off into dreamland.

[lovifie]

Well, I Wasn't On That Tunnel ❤️

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Please don't look too much into the plot holes. Canon can suck my ass, I'm making my own, xoxo 💋

Pairings: Ghoap x Reader.

Warnings: Poly relationship, mentions of death, mentions of guns, rotating POV (mostly Simon's), Spoilers → amnesia, smut, voyeurism

“THE TUNNEL IT'S COLLAPSING! FOLLOW MAKAROV! I'LL TAKE JOHNNY OUT!”

That was the last thing Ghost heard of you.

It's been months since Johnny and you were declared KIA on that mission. 

You weren't even meant to be inside, you were the medic, you were supposed to wait outside. 

But the moment Makarov shot Johnny he panicked.

Ghost panicked.

And Simon panicked.

You came in running, panting for the effort of carrying with you the medical bag half your size. 

You were the one who told them to run. To go after Makarov and kill him. 

You were trying to wake up Johnny, Ghost knew it was a lost cause. He couldn't find the pulse, he was gone.

His Johnny was gone.

The last thing he expected was that he was about to lose you too.

Once outside, he kept looking at the tunnel. Waiting for you to come out, whether it was dragging Johnny's body or alone; it didn't matter. You needed to get out.

But after the tunnel collapsed and you didn't get out, it was Price who finally pushed Ghost away.

He barely remembers getting back to base, doesn't remember what Price kept telling him on the helicopter, doesn't remember skipping meals for days, doesn't remember crying himself to sleep for weeks.

But he remembers your face, he remembers Johnny's face.

Oh, what a coward he was. 

Two people that he loved, that found their way under his skin right into his heart. Two people that Simon wanted to grow old next to, two people that made Simon want to wake up every morning. 

And he was still not brave enough to confess his feelings to neither of them.

He used to stay awake late at night dreaming about how he would do it. After a long time of debating with himself, figuring out what those feelings inside of him were.

Until he figured out it was love, only to them have to face the complex situation of loving two people at the same time.

But even how complicated of a man Simon Riley was, when it comes to his wants it all turns simpler. If on the menu there are two dishes that he likes? He is getting both, obviously. Why choose?

So if all his lonely and twisted life he had never loved anyone, now he suddenly fell in love with two people. He wasn't going to give up one of them and their love just for society's norms.

Murder is also against society’s norms, and he gets paid for it. 

But it was too late now.

Maybe it was for the better.

He could lie to himself, agree that he never confessed because it was not his destiny. 

Not because they would have not loved him back. 

Not because they would have been scared of him.

Not because they wouldn't have been able to see past his mask. 

Not because they would have rather dated each other than him.

It's easier like this.

Simon knows how to mourn a loved one. 

What he doesn't know is, how it's possible he got a message from you this morning when you died four months ago.

You are stepping out of the shower, skin warm from the water and baby hairs sticking to your forehead; when someone knocks on the bathroom door.

You furrow your eyebrows at how hard they knock, the whole door shaking with it.

“Calm down, I'm almost finished.” You grumble, pulling the towel around your body. 

You drag your feet over the towel on the floor to walk closer, and open the door annoyed by the insistent knocking.

“I told you I am almost finish-” Your words are cut off by the barrel of a gun right on your face.

You don't even have time to panic, because you immediately recognise the stupid skeleton gloves holding the gun.

“Simon?” You whisper,scared that if you talk any louder he will disappear. Price and Gaz are behind him, slowly lowering their gun when they see it's you.

There is a glistering layer over Ghost's eyes that if you didn't known any better you'd think are tears.

You push his gun down, the man still immobile as if you were the ghost; and you jump into his arms, circling his neck with your arms.

“It worked! It finally worked!” You exclaim, tears slowly running down your cheeks. “I have been trying to contact any of you for months, it finally fucking worked!”

Ghost struggles to tell whether you are laughing or crying, a mix of the two. But he can't focus on that, he can only focus on your skin under his gloves.

God, how he hated his gloves right now. 

He bites the tip of his finger, pulling the glove off spitting it somewhere. And he snakes his hand under your towel.

He knows is improper, perverted even; but he needs it. He needs to feel your warm skin under his palm, your heart beating loud and fast. 

He surrounds your waist, hands big enough to rest on your ribs, right under your chest. 

Boom, boom… boom, boom… boom, boom…

He sighs, melting onto you, his tears getting absorbed by the mask on his face. He hugs you tighter, daring you to slip from his fingers again.

He bites his lips, copper taste on his tongue, to prevent himself from sobbing.

But the sobs can be heard, and Ghost it's almost disappointed with himself until he notices your body shaking.

It's you who is crying.

And he panics again, pulling back to look at you and you cup your face, apologizing. 

“I'm sorry. I tried my best, I really did.” He can barely understand what you are trying to tell him between sobs. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry.”

He shushes you quickly, he understands; the survivor’s guilt is a special kind of poison. But he understands, he feels it too. 

“It's alright, love. You are alright, everything is going to be alright.” He hugs you again, resting your head on his chest. Mourning Johnny will be easier if you are together, he now hates himself for thinking you were dead; for accepting it.

For mourning you for months and now having you on his arms. 

Warm and breathing. 

He can only imagine what you went through. 

You entered the tunnel because he called for you, and then he left you inside with a corpse. 

How did you get out?

How did anyone see you get out?

How did you find a house?

How did you survive alone with the guilt?

Are the scars on your shoulder for getting out or were they always there?

Were you trapped under the debris?

For how long?

But that doesn't matter, he knew you were strong. That you were clever. That you were better than him. 

He already knew that. 

Gaz and Price remain silent, reading in the situation that there is something underlying that they don't know. Letting the two of you, have your moment. 

It's only when Gaz hears the almost unnoticeable steps get closer that he moves, turning his body and almost dropping his weapon in the process when he sees him.

“Johnny?” That's all he is able to see.

And that's all that is needed to hear.

Price and Ghost whip their head around like they have been smacked, coming face to face with the man.

There are still bandages on the side of his head, he looks thinner, less muscles, sunken eyes and dark bags. But it's Johnny. 

A scarred, angry Johnny. 

Holding the pistol on his hands pointing to Ghost's head.

Looking at him as if Simon was his greatest enemy.

“Johnny…” He tries to talk to him, keeping you behind his back by instincts.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP! WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?” Johnny shouts, his hands are shaking.

That explains it, why he look like a madman, why he looks so scared under the rage, why he keeps trying to look under him.

“Johnny, it's alright.” You finally say, moving from behind Ghost, softly pushing his arm back. You walk ahead, still only on the towel; and you walk up to Johnny. You rest your hand on the pistol, pushing it down with ease. 

You raise your other hand to the men, the signal of “wait”.

Johnny looks at you with utter confusion, eyes shaking moving around your face for any kind of explanation. His hand move around you, checking for any damage; the hand that doesn't have the gun clinging to the towel. 

You cup his face between your hands, the man bending down slightly to make it easier for you to reach; you whisper something to him making him relax almost immediately. 

And then you kiss him.

On the cheek, right beside the nose making him close his eyes for a second.

But it feels like a stab on Simon's heart. 

He tries to think rationally, you were just calming him down. He knows Johnny is always desperate for physical contact, that's all. Nothing else. 

He really tries to think logically, but logically the two of you are dead and buried under a tunnel. Not standing at the end of the hall, kissing and comforting each other. 

Something about it, about the possibility there is something more going on between Johnny and you; sends Simon's inner gears spinning. 

He sees the virtual space between the two of you, slowly getting in the shape of his body.

You whisper something to Johnny, he nods, touching your forehead with his for a second, before walking back. Looking at Simon with hate on his cerulean blue eyes. 

You sigh, watching Johnny move and turn to the three still shell-shocked. 

“As far as I can tell…” You whisper, once you are close to them. “He only remembers up to when he was 20, little more, little less.”

“So he doesn't remember anyone?” Price asks after a moment.

You shake your head. “Not that he hasn't asked me about, he asked about some people but I don't know them. He thought I was a nurse when he woke up.” You explain.

“What happened in the tunnel?” Gaz asks, looking behind you to check Johnny is not back. “How did you get out? And him? He was dead.”

You shake your head again. “Not yet. Almost… but not yet. I-”

“Bonnie! You want coffee or tea?!” Johnny's voice makes everyone jump.

“Coffee, please!” You answer without skipping a beat and turn to them. “I'll explain it later, alright? It's not the place nor the time.”

Price nods once. “Get dressed, I'll contact the pilot to let them know we are flying back tonight, right?”

“Roger that.” The three of you reply almost by muscle memory.

“I'll be fast, don't rile him up.” You say, before entering the bedroom closing it behind you.

Ghost feels Price's eyes on him. 

Wondering.

Asking.

What's between you and him?

What's between you and Soap?

What's inside his mind?

“Tea is ready.” It all gets interrupted by the amnesiac man calling them to the kitchen.

They walk together, sitting around the table. Gaz and Price find it almost easy to talk to Soap, about how happy they are to see him again, about how they are flying back later, easy chatter.

But Ghost can't. 

Not when Soap finally smiles at Price making fun of Gaz's cap and Ghost's breath is knocked out of his chest. 

That's his boy.

Breathing and warm.

Just like you.

He knows it's the universe talking, telling him not to fuck it up again.

Still, he feels his heart sink every time Soap looks at him with such a sour look. Offended even. His boy.

That would jump at any opportunity to impress him, to earn his respect, his affection. Now locked like he wanted to stab him on the chest, twisting the knife in the process.

He knows it's because of you, the way the man stared at his hand as you pushed it out of the towel didn't go unnoticed by Simon. 

Not the greatest first impression. 

Does it count as a first impression if he has known the man for years? 

You walk into the kitchen not much later, Johnny's eyes lightening at seeing you; his saviour. 

You walk past Ghost, your arm resting on his shoulder as you bend down to slightly knock your head against Soap's.

And that's it, that all Simon's needs. To be involved. He doesn't need to be in the middle of you two, he is fine with being in the sidelines, but he needs to be a part of it.

He knows you are on his side, you remember him unlike Johnny. You can be the bridge to get him to Johnny; to keep Johnny from running. Make a pack with him; keep the two of you close.

A turmoil of emotions keeps spinning inside Ghost's head, all the versions of himself wanting to be right.

The part of him he thinks is unable to love telling him to let the two of you alone, you are better of without him.

The part of him he thinks is unable to be loved telling him to not even try, save himself the rejection. 

The part of him that is still unsure of what even are his feelings telling him to not get involved, that it would only confuse the two of you.

But then there is also that part of him. The part called Simon Riley; that still holds onto the chance of loving and getting love.

And he looks at you and Soap, the way Soap looks up to you. The way he used to look at him. 

“Let's pack our things up, Johnny.” You say, patting Soap’s back. “The sooner we are back home, the better.”

And you smile at Soap so kindly, so wide, so warm.

He understands how you managed to calm Soap down. Waking up from what he assumed must be something close to a coma after getting shot on the head, not remembering anything, in pain, alone. And then you appeared, so soft and so kind.

He wouldn't blame Johnny if he was already in love with you, with you being literally the only thing he knows since waking up. 

Johnny stands up, walking out of the kitchen but looking back to make sure you are walking behind him. 

The two of you disappear down the hall, voices low as you move away.

“I can't believe they are alive…” Gaz comments, sipping his tea.

“Neither do I…” Price answers, sipping his. “Bloody necromancer…”

And you are, Simon was also dead before meeting you. 

“I'm gonna check on them.” He says, downing the beverage on a gulp that burns down his throat. 

He stands up, Price and Gaz look at him as he does. They are going to talk about him as soon as he gets out, but he doesn't care. 

He has made his choice.

He loves you.

He loves Johnny.

He walks down the hall, seeing the door ajar.

His hand reaches the knob when he hears it.

His blood running cold.

“Johnny…”

It's your sweet voice moaning the name. 

The unmistakable sounds of kisses inside the room.

“I don't like how he looks at you, bonnie.” The man whispers, his breathing unstable.

“He's your best friend, Joh-Ah!” You moan, interrupting yourself as you speak.

“I don't care! I don't know him. You are mine!” The man grunts, the sound of skin slapping slowly becoming more and more clear. 

“Johnny…” You moan again, and Simon is sure that he can hear your cunt squelch around Johnny's length. 

He opens the door the slightest bit, just enough for his eyes to see the way Johnny has you bent over on the bed. 

With you laying on your stomach on the bed, legs hanging from him without strength to push yourself up. Johnny behind you, a foot on the ground and the other on the mattress as leverage to keep sinking into your weeping cunt.

Neither of you bothered to take off the clothes, simply lowered the pants enough for Johnny to get inside of you. Your pants pooling on your ankles, legs limp with the rhythm Johnny has settled.

Simon wishes he could see your face, pleasure painted on your expressions with your face buried on the mattress. Johnny keeps your hands on your back, keeping you pressed against the bed. But the only thing he can see is Johnny's back.

So he sees perfectly fine when the man turns his torso around, still thrusting into you, and looks at Simon.

He looks straight into Simon's eyes, who panic just for a second for getting caught peeking into their room, into them together.

But the Johnny smiles, not the adoration-filled smile he used to gift Simon with. Instead, is the smile filled with pride that he only kept for after winning a match or catching an enemy.

Johnny raises his hand to show him his middle finger.

As he mouths “Fuck you.”

And Simon wants to laugh.

Johnny wants to play?

Then they'll play.

Game's on.

@waiting-so-long

Taglist: @whos-fran @thevoidwriting @sklt987659 @kayden666 @dumb12bvtch1212 @thatonepupkai @darkangel4121 @risingofjupiter @spadekip @herefor-tojis-tits @soupinasock @marymustdie @arbesa-mind @cmbghost @multifandomheathenannie @tooloudarts @panikk-attackkk @reap3erslov3 @mothsdrabbles @ghosts-hoe @cassiecasluciluce @sleepdeprivedkat @lunamoonbby @hatterripper31 @contractedcriteria @cod-z @jaguarthecat @savagemickey03 @fraserbraw @rosiehale23 @keiva1000 @sw33tsnow @viisgrave @theloneshadow24 @loveandplanet @sobbingnshtting @dprmoon @simpsallthetime1997 @ladyxtiger @soapsmohawk-16 @nina6708 @katreintjie @sacvh @mothymunson @archenillo @thesinsoflust @sodavrr @yuki2129 @mikaronn

[marvelfilth]

Her idiot

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x f!reader

Warnings: none

Summary: your night out with Thor and Valkyrie leaves Natasha worried unimpressed.

Masterlist

“Nat-”

“No.”

“But-”

“But no.”

“Just let me-”

“Shut up.”

Your mouth promptly snaps shut, the sound of teeth clattering echoing through the empty Compound.

You're being dragged to Natasha’s room, or you hope you are - you wouldn't put it past Natasha to lock you in one of the holding cells in the basement. You kinda deserve it. You can admit that even in your current inebriated state.

She drags you upstairs once you reach the end of the hallway, your shoes squeaking on the concrete, making you grimace with each step you make.

You're also starting to get cold.

You're not stupid enough to tell her that.

Wanda's head pokes out of her room, her eyes bleary with sleep and her expression pure confusion. Her eyes grow twice their size once she sees the state you're in. And then she laughs, shaking her head.

“You're so dead,” she whispers when you pass by and ducks back into her room lest Natasha unleashes her wrath on her.

You gulp.

Yeah.

You probably are.

Natasha halts her stride, opens the door to her room, and pushes you inside.

“You better not get any of that on my carpet,” she growls, tugging off your drenched shirt.

You're thankful you've had enough of a mind to leave your heavy winter coat by the lake before you decide to-

“Off.” Natasha gestures at your feet, putting a stop to your musings. You shrug off your dirty boots, carefully leaving them by the door. As carefully as you can, that is. The room is spinning a bit, and Natasha's face is a little blurry around the edges.

Then, she tugs down your jeans, making you wince as the harsh wet fabric slides down your legs. She looks at you, unimpressed.

“Sorry,” you whisper, hugging yourself.

You're starting to shake, a little bit. And your teeth won't stay put. Or is it your jaw?

Natasha sighs and leads you to the bathroom. It's already full of steam and the bath is full of bubbles, and you sag in relief, almost tearing off your underwear in haste to jump in.

You moan the second you sink into the warmth.

“You do know how stupid that was, right?”

You nod, wishing you could hide from her gaze.

“Then why?”

Your cheeks redden, not from the warmth, but from the sheer embarrassment. Now that you've sobered a little, none of the fun and entertaining ideas Thor and Valkyrie proposed sound fun and entertaining.

She sighs again, and starts gently threading her fingers through your hair, untangling the knots she finds there.

“You're not drinking with them ever again.”

“Okay.”

“And you're not going anywhere near that damned lake anytime soon.”

You wince at the memory of falling through the thin layer of ice after successfully making it halfway across the lake - just like Thor dared you to - and then swimming under said thin layer of ice the remaining half of the way and emerging on the other side, right in front or very angry and very concerned Natasha.

You're probably gonna-

“And you're sleeping on the couch.”

-sleep on the couch. Yep.

“Yes, ma'am.”

“You're an idiot.”

“I am.”

She snorts. “It's very hard to stay mad when you're being so pliant.”

You bite on your lower lip, keeping a bashful grin from emerging. You decide to test your luck when the fond glint in your girlfriend's eyes intensifies.

“So no couch for me, then?”

Her eyes narrow, lips pursing. “You can sleep on the floor if you'd like.”

No luck. Ugh.

“Okay. Couch it is.”

She hums, leaving your side to retrieve a warm fluffy tower. You get up, almost falling into Natasha's arms when you slip. She wraps the towel around your shoulders, holding you against her chest.

“I love you,” you mumble into the crook of her neck, your body buzzing with love, warmth and remnants of alcohol. “So much.”

“And I love you. Even when you're being an idiot, which is-”

“Always?” You interrupt with a grin, pulling away just a tad to see the expression on her face.

Her eyes sparkle in the low light, the lines of her face all soft. “Yes. Always.”

[gomzwrites]

The taskforce 141’s favourite steamy moments 

Contain smut(18+), minors do not interact

a/n: I wanted to write something that the 141 members like the most whenever they have some spicy moment with the reader >:) so I decided to give smut writing a go! These are arranged based on length, I apologise for writing such a short one for Ghost as I was struggling to make it as gender-neutral as possible(if it still comes out as fem, Im so sorry!), maybe next time I’ll do specific gender one post at a time, but for now enjoy this mess :> Tags: xgn! Reader, dry humping/grinding, eating out(reader receiving), submissive, teasing, riding(implied sorta), biting, slightly possessive behaviour, hand job - let me know if i missed any tags reader's text is in purple PLEASE DO NOT RESHARE MY WORK ON OTHER PLATFORMS WITHOUT MY PERMISSION -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Simon Ghost Riley - taste

Ghost likes it when you run your fingers along his hair, soft and gentle as he closes his eyes and savour the gesture. But he likes it best when you scratch his hairline and lock your hands in his short blonde curls. 

Ghost has been in between your thighs since he dragged you into his room, he laps on your entrance as he sloppily licks up your sensitive sex, sinful slurping and moans filling the room. He works his tongue expertly, mixing those arousal juices with his saliva as he grunts and groans. You watch with teary, half-lidded eyes as he slowly retracts from your aching sex and trails teasing kisses around your thighs before he bites down as you jolt.

S-simon…! 

You whine out his name as he hums and graze his teeth along your thighs, taking his sweet time as he watches you grow increasingly desperate, turning into a whimpering mess on his bed because of him.

He spread your leg further as he let his tongue dance against you, watching your back arches up as he moan into your sex, causing a shiver to run down your spine as his deep husky voice reverberated through your entire body. He looks up to you with those dark eyes that are blown out and filled with desire, hungrily pinning your hips down with his eyes alone. 

“Be good”, was all he said before he latch onto you again as he devour you like there was no tomorrow. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

John Soap MacTavish - wants

You struggle to breathe properly as your chest is fully pressed on top of your desk, now messy and with papers and reports that are scattered about and long forgotten. 

Grunts and moans filled your room as Soap has your hands pinned on top of your head, his other hand grabbing your hips, fingers digging into your hips that always leave purplish-red marks the next day. 

“Fuck y/n…..” Soap slurs as he buckled his hip at your ass, both of you still have your gears and clothes on, leaving only the bulky vest on the floor as he grinds on you, so desperate, so fucking desperate. 

He leans down to bite on the back of your neck causing you to moan as you feel his tongue lap at the bite marks and suck gently to soothe the flesh, now littered with goosebumps. You can feel how warm and hot he is from your back despite the layers of clothes, and you can hear his heartbeat too when he starts thrusting you faster, harsher, pressing his chest and his hips on you, as if he’s moulding your entire body as both of you are mushed together perfectly. 

‘It's not enough…” he growls as he continues grinding on you, voice getting lower as he frowns and bites down on your neck again, another mark as he lets out pants of frustration, you gasp and moan at his bites as you push your hips back to meet his.

‘Yeah just like that…fuck…..fuck. me.” he lets out a deep sigh as both of you fight to push your hips towards each other to be impossibly close, you can feel it too, you can feel how he angles his hip so that every time he snaps and presses onto you, you can feel his tip poking at your entrance, making you roll your eyes back as you sob softly.

You want him, just as badly as he wants you.  God it’s not enough, it’s never enough at all and yet every single fucking time, he does it still, it's too painfully good to stop, to pause this heating moment to remove some fabric, no, there’s no way he’ll stop, it's as if he’s afraid that doing so will result in these pent-up emotions and arousal slipping away.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Captain John Price - voice

John likes it when you hold back your moans and voices whenever you guys do it in his office, since his room is in the centre of the base, that means there are other rooms besides, and the walls are not exactly the thickest.

Sure, he absolutely loves your moans and the way you scream his name whenever he pounds you hard never fails to make him lost in ecstasy. But nothing riles him up more than hearing the voices you make that only he gets to hear.

He loves it when you suppress your moans, because it makes it so your voice tends to become whinier, and more desperate, reaching a pitch that sometimes has surprised him and yourself. He loves it because when you try to be quiet by squeezing your head into his neck, mouth biting on his collar as he drags his thick cock in and out of you, he gets to hear all those little gasps and pretty little moans that are barely audible.

John loves it, and he absolutely likes to break that resolve of yours, he likes to push all the buttons to see you crumble before him, and he knows when he is on the right track when you start to pant harder, and those whimper escapes more as you shakily grab onto his arm, 

J-John….please…

he smirks as the pleas come spilling out from your mouth whenever you feel like you couldn't hold in your moans more.

“Awwww….too much?” 

He would whisper back into your ears as he draws out each word in his deep honey voice, hands coming down on your waist before he slams it down hard on his hip, causing a startled yelp and a jolt of shiver running down your spine and let out a string of suppressed curses and moans.

He chuckles deeply, hot breath fanning against your neck when he watches your eyes tear up and your mouth opens as you let out a silent scream, still holding on as you shake your head and mutter to him, “N-no…m-my voice-” you didn’t finish your words as he clashes his mouth with yours, swallowing your pitiful pleas before biting down your lower lip as he pulls back, smirking as he bites down your shoulder.

“Let it out”, he challenges you with a raspy voice as he kisses the bite marks around your neck and nibbles softly when he coos at you, watching you squirm around as he gives you a mischievous look, oh he is going to, and will bully you until he has you screaming his name.  -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Kyle Gaz Garrick - hands

Kyle loves it whenever you take your time and tease him with your hands, you can feel how his thigh muscle tensed up and how he let out his breath shakily whenever you trail your finger around him. He always likes it when you start slow, gently trailing along his neck first as you kiss and softly nibble his ears, before you slip your hands down lower as you rest it on his chest, and those eyes….those big doe eyes of yours whenever you look up to him and whisper so sweetly, honey tone dripping out from your irresistible mouth absolutely drives him mad every time, and send his head into a spiral heat of want.

You like it, hm?

He gives a nod as he lay back on the sofa, completely melting under you touch as he squeezes his eyes shut when he feels your teasing hand trailing around his chest, sometimes flicking his nipples that cause him to jolt as you giggle,

Mhm, you do like it…

Fuck, you’ve barely done anything and he already feels like his losing his mind, only being able to nod frantically as words fail to come into his mind. As you slowly reach down, resting your palm just shy above his pants, his grip on your hip tightens as he desperately wants you to go lower, to give him what he wants. He loves it because you always manage to rile him up, giving some relief but never enough, it's like you knew exactly how he works. 

Hmmmmm what do you want…pretty boy?

You whisper back teasingly as you brush your lips against his ear, you watch as his boxers get tighter when his arousal increases, even a small stain was visible now the more you tease him with the nickname, his favourite one, among all the other things you call him.

“Ah fuck….please y/n…”

He begs as you slowly pull down his boxers, bit by bit as he lifts his hips up on instinct to help you remove them, then you slowly let him free of these hellish restrictions, and you make sure your hand doesn't touch his hard cock that flings up as you remove the boxers, watching the red angry tip leaking as he lets out a content sigh. Yet as free as he is at the moment, he needs more.

“y/n….god…please….”

He whines softly again as you rest your hand on his V-line, trailing those deep beautiful grooves as you hum idly and press your body against his. You continue moving your hand along the V-line before you lightly ghost his cock with the middle knuckle of your index finger, running it all the way from his tip to the base. 

Please what hm?

He lets out another whimper when you tease him again, trying to be good as he bites his lower lip to stop himself from flinching so much from how sensitive and needy he is, he nuzzles into your neck as he pleaded with a desperate tone, voice crackling at the end as he gulps in between words. 

“Please….fuck….please touch me….touch my cock…need to feel you please….”

You chuckle as you kiss his cheek and snake your hand down to hold the base of his cock, watching him buck his hip up to seek those sweet, sweet friction. Who are you to deny him when he begged so nicely?

Good boy~ 

you whisper back huskily as you wrap your hands around his length, he takes a sharp inhale and lets out a trembling moan as he slung his head back to the top of the couch, his hand holding your hips, to ground himself as you start moving your hands around his cock, sliding upwards as you wipe the precum of the tip, teasing the tip as you slowly pump your hand down and watch another string of precum leak and flow down his length, you run your thumb along that one prominent vein as you press on it slightly, the agonizing slow speed you’re doing makes Kyle gasp as he frown and grab your hips tighter,

“fuck, so good….hmm fuck your hands….ah…”, he lets out a loud moan lightly when you kiss his ear lobe, whispering sweet nothing as you attack his ear with your tongue, moaning and letting sloppy noises consume his head, you take this opportunity to reach out and interlace your finger with his other hand as well to overwhelm him in every sense.

He prays internally as he tries his best not to come right here right now, you just started stroking him but he already feels like he’s about to explode. He can’t help it when he can feel your hands, every crease of your finger swiping along his girth as you pump slowly again, god and your thumb? Whenever you use it to press down on him he swears his vision goes white for a moment.  

“Don't stop….” 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

a/n: yes yes I know yet another longer section for Gaz, I am, and forever will be biased towards our babygirl, YOU CAN'T STOP ME *runs*

[writella]

A Different Kind of Ride

Synopsis: Reader wants to ride Daryl’s bicep!

Details: Daryl Dixon x fem!reader. Just smut, (bicep) riding, masturbation (m). I think they’re both giving switch vibes, they enjoy watching, and are obsessed with their partner’s body. Overall, lots of grinding, desperation, and Daryl wanting to panty sniff— slay. Mostly proofread. wc: 1.7k.

A/N: Literally sighing and moaning and licking my lips while thinking about this. He’s so fine. Also hi!!! I missed you all. with love, writella. ♡

The scene starts in his room. He’s laying almost slanted on the bed. His head rests near the bottom half of where the pillows reside. His shirt is off, but his pants remain. His tools and weapons were still attached to his lower hips. He was dirty. Grimey and sweaty. Small strands of his hair sticking to his face, while the rest fell effortlessly above his shoulders and onto the bed.

You, on the other hand, were clean. Dried, soft, and smelling of fresh creamy white soap in your pajamas, all ready for sleep.

You didn’t care though. That’s what you get when you want him. And you liked the rattle, and cling, and thump of his belt as you continued to bounce and grind down on the area where his cock resides. Clothed and covered under two layers but the way his bulge pressed and squished perfectly into you was more than enough. Not to mention how the seam of your shorts made its way into your folds adding an extra amount of friction that scratched your clit just perfectly.

It all felt just as good as having him inside of you, honestly. Your eyes rolled back and then closed, your mouth stays slightly open. Your top teeth come to bite your bottom lip every time you rocked forward and the feeling was just right. You start pushing deeper and harder, your hands rest of his chest for assistance as your eyes screw tight: you were focused.

“Need you, need you, want you; it feels so good; please, please,” are the thoughts that scream inside you as you quickly and tightly press down into his groin and then start to jump: imagining him thrusting into you all short and fast— it feels like a little a bounce-bounce-bounce-bounce motion, accompanied in unison by pants that make you go into a quick and breathy “hm-hm-hm-hm.”

Then you start to rock on him again, it’s like an ocean wave: pushing up as high as you can go, and then pushing all the way down and letting your clit feel him from bottom to top— “mmm, ah,” you whine.

Your eyes are scrunched so tight, giving it your all, trying your bestest like the good little girl you are; determined to make yourself come. You needed it.

And Daryl sees it. He watches. Mesmerized by the focus and determination of your entire body.

He can’t tell if he’s the one in control because of your desperation and how little you need from him to get you soaked, or if it’s you because of your position, and because of how effortlessly you have taken control to reach your high.

Either way, you’re both intoxicated by each other. You were on him almost instantly as he entered the room, after all. And he let it happen. You told him you missed him, you went to hug him, he kissed your forehead and messed up your hair, giving you a sleepy “hey,” with a bashful smile only saved for you. Then wordlessly he let you take off his vest and shirt, pushing him onto the bed— which did nothing in actuality, he was almost immovable, but as your hands pressed on his shoulders, he went down anyway. Down for the ride, enjoying the sight.

So much so that his eyes are dazed as the look upon you. Looking at how your waist contorts in unison with the rock of your hips on top of him, how your nipples harden under your shirt, how putting your hands on his chest and every time he makes one of his dark and gruffy sounds makes your pussy jerk and you moan louder.

His hands grab onto your hips, pushing you forward. He sees how the shape of your little shorts molded into your pussy lips as you grind down. He bets they’re drenched in that area now. If you come in them, he wants to suck on it, and then rip them off and eat you out when you’re done.

His hands trail higher, securing themselves onto your waist. You grab his arms then as you continue to rock, going from his forearms to his biceps, feeling the curves. You open your eyes, you don’t even catch his entrancement at the area of where your bodies meet. You focus on the divets of his arms, how strong he is, how big he is. It makes you whine frustratingly, pushing into him faster.

Suddenly, you get off of him and onto your knees, hurrying to take your shorts off.

Daryl’s eyes don’t even look at you, “Give ‘em,” he says as you reach for the hem. He looks straight at the wet and sweaty pair on you, eyeing the wet spot that has spread in the area of your mound. Truly he could see almost everything despite the cover by the way they folded into you.

The demand doesn’t even surprise you as much as it excites you. You throw them at his face. No questions.

You extend his arm on the bed, his hand sprawled flat. Stroking it, you breathlessly say, “I want this.” You're desperate but you wait for approval, but he has his other hand on his face, holding your thrown shorts over his nose and mouth like a mask, breathing you in. His breath inward is loud and it’s followed by a deep and raspy hum. It made your pussy jut, your eyes widen, your mouth gasp. You whine impatiently, inserting your finger into your hole as he moves the part with the seam to his nose, breathing it in again, and then, sucking it dry with his mouth, watching your fingers spread more wetness all over your pussy.

You moan and your body shakes with his eye contact. “Please?” You ask him with a pout.

He moves his arm you held to use both hands to undo his belt. He sees that you continue to rub your clit with a sad look on your face as you wonder what he’s going to do. He drops his pants to the ground and you watch his boxers make a tent on top of his hard cock as he places his arm back where you put it.

“Go on,” he tells you finally, giving you a nod. “Do whatever you want.”

Ecstatically, you move your knees on either side of him, lowering down, and letting your wet pussy lips open around the curves of his upper arm, taking up as much of him as they can. It’s only a little, your tiny lips can only cover so much, but it feels great. You clit presses down against his arm perfectly, getting the direct attention you desired.

You begin to rock and it feels as perfect as you expected. Your mouth opens again and your eyes flutter close, focusing on your task— riding his bicep and making yourself come. You were determined.

Daryl’s dick twitches as he watches you. His other hand comes behind his head, resting it under him to tilt his head up a bit, getting more comfortable as he gazes on your blissed out expression.

It felt great to know how attracted you were to him. That even his arms alone could have your pussy become a sopping mess. At this rate he knew you would come tonight from that alone. The thought makes precum slip from his tip and make him grunt and hum lowly; he just couldn’t get enough of watching you. Like a little horny-teenaged-babygirl discovering grinding for the first time, doing it on anything she could to feel a release.

It made him finally push down his boxers and touch himself. He spits on his hand and begins to stroke his cock. He started to pump, his grunts becoming more strangled, he couldn’t even attempt to start edging eventually. You looked so cute and pathetic, so sexy. He wanted to come with you.

You moan from your movements and from hearing his voice. It makes your eyes flutter open as your head tilts, catching a glimpse of Daryl working on himself which makes you open them all the way. Now you rock as you watch him. “Oh, Daryl,” you plead.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” He asks gruffly. Giving you direct eye contact as he pumps.

“I’m making you want to touch yourself like that?” You ask sweetly, giggling as you continue to rub your clit just right against him. “Huh, Daryl?” His dick and his hand looked so veiny and angry as pumped. It made you moaned again. “Fuck, you’re so handsome.”

Daryl almost chokes on his breath. Every mean and grumpy comment he could have left him. All he has grunts and you can swear he almost growls because of your little smile and the way he watches your breasts fall out from your shirt as you take it off. He’s speechless and pumping into his hand faster, watching as your pussy tries to engulf the entirety of his arm.

You grind down faster, pushing and pushing forward and backward on his bicep until you feel a yummy hotness rise. Your clit felt like it was on fire with goodness, you finally were about to explode. You pant and moan and Daryl begins to pump himself harder. His hand slapping against his skin, his voice making a low sound every time he reaches the end of his shaft. All there is, is the sound of him and you and your voices— nonsensical, reaching your peaks.

Your breath hitches, and your hands come to the bed, your back arches and your head tilts forward as you go harder and harder, furiously pushing into him until finally— “OH!”— you come.

He isn’t far behind. He watches your eyes roll back and your mouth open wide, your moan and the feeling of his arm being drenched telling him you reached your orgasam which makes him do so as well. A strangled groan, quick and paused, erupts and is then interrupted by another more loud moan as hot spurts of white jump out onto his leg and the bed.

You look on breathlessly. Your movements now slowed but continuous as you bring yourself down from your high, his come messing up the sheets making you whine from the sight.

When you both catch your breaths and you move your thighs from his arm his hands grab you by the hips. His movements direct you to sit on his groin as you once did before.

He wants to see how you ride on his cock now.

And of course, you oblige.

[h0neylevi]

imagine riding Levi’s face.

you feel slightly self-conscious as he looks up at you from his spot between your thighs, grey eyes half-lidded with desire, waiting for you to settle all the way down.

his palms slide from your hips to tap his fingers on your thighs.

“I said sit,” he says, yanking you down before you can react. all you can see now are his eyes and the way his hair fans out over the pillow underneath his head.

one hand instinctively flies to the crown of his head when you feel the first lap of his tongue. he starts at your entrance, relishing the taste of you before gliding up to swirl around your clit. you cry out, fingers tightening in his hair as he gains a rhythm almost immediately.

“oh my god. Just like that.”

Levi’s eyes flick up to meet your gaze, stormy in a way that you think might look a little smug if you could see the rest of his face. it’s almost impressive the way he’s managed to unravel you so quickly, but Levi’s always known exactly the way you like it. the right amount of pressure here and the exact time to pick up his pace to have you like putty in his hands.

once you’ve gotten more used to the position, less concerned with balancing your weight, one of Levi’s hands guides your hips. heat gathers into your lower belly, prickling a path down your limbs.

“Ah—! Levi-”

below, his cock sits heavy against his navel, leaking and untouched. he’s too devoted to focusing on how your legs tremble as you try to keep your breathing even. he groans when you say his name, low and guttural in a way that has pleasure pooling at the base of your spine.

you can’t remember what you wanted to say—to tell him to slow down, to speed up, to babble about how good it feels. at some point, his hands leave your hips and travel up to squeeze your breasts, adding new layer of sensation to the already overwhelming feeling.

you come with a gasp of his name on your lips.

[4sturns]

TAKE IT

matt s. x fem!reader

genre: smut

warnings: filthy smut, dom!matt, sub!reader, degradation, rough sex, unprotected sex (don't be stupid, be safe and wrap it), dumbification, squirting, overstimulation, choking, matt's a little mean, pussy slapping

requested: yes!

a/n: i desperately need to be fucked dumb by matt like it's no longer a want it's a need

you're spent. your entire body aches but you're not done. not when the ache feels so good and especially not when matt's drilling into you so hard you're seeing specks of white every time you blink.

he's already managed to pull three orgasms out of you, two on his tongue and once on his dick, but he isn't stopping yet. if anything, he's just getting started.

"m-matt! fuck—" you're cut off by a sharp thrust, hitting that sweet spot inside you that makes you clamp down like a vice on your boyfriend's cock.

you know you're not going to last long. not after all your previous orgasms and especially not with the brutal pace matt has set with his hips.

he has your legs propped up on his shoulders with his hands on either side of your head as your hands frantically grab at his biceps whenever the pleasure's too much for you.

"be a good little slut and take my cock." matt spits out, a hand moving from beside your head to wrap around your neck, giving it a light squeeze.

with his hand around his neck and his cock buried so deep in your stomach, you feel your next orgasm building up fast and strong.

"i'm so close. don't stop. god, matt, please don't stop." you rasp, incoherent blabbering falling off your lips as your grip on matt's bicep gets looser by the second.

by now, the pleasure's so strong that you're uncontrollably clenching down on matt's dick. your eyes rock back as you quickly lose grasp on reality, slipping deeper into the void as you follow the stars clouding your vision.

you think you hear matt's voice, although you're not too sure you even have it in you to make out his words.

"look at you, all spent and fucked stupid on my cock. does it really feel that good, mamas? am i fucking you that good?" matt's tone is condescending, mocking your current state as grunts leave his lips.

he takes a good look at you, eyes scanning up and down your body. your neck down to your chest is completely covered in hickies, the colors range from a rosy pink to dark purple with hints of yellow. a thin layer of sweat coats your skin as well as ropes of his cum from his last orgasm which he put all over your stomach. his eyes flash back up to your face, your eyes rolled back with spit dribbling out the side of your mouth, a sight which makes him moan so loudly it brings you back to your senses.

you feel the coil in your stomach tighten, bringing you closer to your climax by the second, but something about this feels odd. different in a sense. you're trembling under matt, the muscles in your thighs flexing as your arms wrap around matt's neck, pulling him closer to you.

you go to open your mouth, hoping to warn him of your climax, but before you can speak, the coil in your stomach snaps, causing you to scream out matt's name so loud you're sure you're in for a noise complaint.

your entire body shakes against matt's before he pulls out of you, jerking himself off over your heaving body, cumming all over your stomach for a second time as strings of curses slip off his tongue.

he looks beautiful like this. hair completely disheveled and his lips bruised and puffy. he sports matching hickies, the majority on the base of his neck to make them easier to hide behind hoodies.

the sheets are soaked from your orgasm as is matt's lower half. from above you, matt chuckles. it's breathy and quiet, but it sends a shiver down your spine.

he swipes a hand through his damp hair before coming back down to your level, using one hand to prop himself up above you. his other hand travels down to your throbbing pussy, giving it a light slap.

your entire body jolts off the bed, a strained moan leaves your mouth before you could even comprehend what just happened.

matt's eyes darken, a dangerous smirk replacing his soft smile as he gives your cunt another smack.

"think you can do that again for me, mamas?"

[roanniom]

fuck reality, think about waking up with eddie's mouth latched onto your nipple 🥰

Compliments

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, fingering, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, drug use (weed)

You wake up to a sensation that has your hips bucking upwards and your hand reaching up, fingers tangling into messy, curly hair.

“Mmmfuck,” you mumble into the darkness. Eddie Munson releases your nipple from his mouth with a wet pop.

“Nice to see you, too, sweetheart.”

His weight is warm and heavy on top of your body in the best way with your sleep shirt pushed up under your shoulders to expose your chest. You pull him in further against you and breathe in the scent of leather and minty gum and smoke and weed, layered over his sandalwood shampoo.

“Eddieeee,” you let out as a happy whine. He chuckles darkly in response and kisses down your neck back to the valley between your breasts.

“Babyyyy,” he whines back as a mimicking response. He’s further down the bed, his lower half humps the mattress where it rests between your spread legs. “Gonna give it to you real good, no need to get all whiny on me princess.”

You laugh at that and it comes out breathy. Eddie had been out all night at band practice, so you’d laid down for a little nap while waiting for him. You massage the delicate skin beneath his ear as he presses a kiss to one of your nipples and then the other.

“Always take care of my girls, don’t I?” he says to your breasts before sucking on one of your nipples again. You gasp and pull at his hair again, making him hum against you. “Mmmm yeah I do. But I do play favorites, don’t I, kitty?”

He slides a hand down your abdomen to press under the waistband of your panties. His fingers swirl in the gathered slick as he shuts his lids over rolling eyes.

“She’s been waiting for me, huh?”

“Eddie…” you giggle.

“Shhh, kitty’s talking to me right now, baby,” he hushes, smiling wide at the wet sounds coming from your pussy as he slides his fingers deep inside. You want to chide him for being silly, but he crooks his finger to press at that sweet spot and you’re gasping.

“Ohhh kitty’s been waiting for me like a good girl. Like a good, drooling girl,” Eddie coos, making sure to press circles into your clit with the heel of his palm. You can’t keep from laughing.

“How high are you, Munson?” you ask and he shrugs.

“Only one joint in, baby. Saving the rest for you,” he replies, smoothly reaching his freehand to pull a join out of his back pocket.

“So one joint and you’re having full conversations with my cunt?” you tease, plucking the joint from his fingers and putting it between your lips. He tsks disapprovingly while you pick up the lighter from your bedside table and strike it.

“Her name is kitty, and you need to treat her right,” Eddie admonishes. You roll your eyes but your hips buck of their own accord when he leans down and kisses your clit. Eddie grins up at you from between your legs. “She says your fingers are too small and you don’t know what you’re doing.”

“Shut up,” you moan, nudging your knee against his shoulder. He pins your leg down and begins licking gently at your opening, taking his time and stopping often to place many wet kisses to the juncture of your hip and thigh. Meanwhile you light the joint and inhale deeply.

After you’ve taken a third hit - you’ve gotta catch up to him of course - you melt back against the pillows with a sigh, beginning to feel real relaxation set on. Eddie looks up from between your thighs again, your slick on his pretty lips.

“Gonna share, princess?” He asks, reaching out with his free hand. You shrug.

“Gonna start complimenting me instead of my cunt?”

Eddie leans up and swipes the joint from your fingers, leaving you dissolving into giggles. He watches you as his cheeks hollow and he inhales, blowing the smoke away from.

“My baby’s feeling neglected?” he asks teasingly.

“No…” you say but your smile is growing as your high begins to set in.

“If you want compliments, I can give you compliments, princess. Unlike you, kitty is patient.”

You scoff at him, but he quickly reaches up and puts the joint on the ashtray on your bedside table before grabbing you by the backs of your thighs. You squeal at being pulled further down the bed, eyes going wide at Eddie moving up to settle on top of you, lap cradled against your exposed pelvis.

“You are the most beautiful…” he stops to kiss one cheek, “loveliest…” kiss to the other cheek, “most spoiled girl in the world.”

“Hey!” you try to say but he reaches down and places two fingers back deep inside of you, making you gasp at the end of the word. He watches your face intently. Drinks in your pleasure.

“C’mon baby, give me what I want,” he says quietly, forehead against yours. His thumb is on your clit and you’re dizzy.

“Yeah of course. Fuck me,” you oblige. Eddie shakes his head, his nose rubbing against yours in the process.

“Sweetheart, that’s not what I want,” he chuckles. “Well yeah, eventually. But right now I want you to cum. Can you do that for me?”

“Wanna cum for you, Eds,” you nod. He begins nodding along with you.

“Gonna cum for me, princess?”

“Mmmyeah.”

“Mmmm fuck yeah,” Eddie groans as he feels your walls tighten around his fingers. Your face scrunches up in pleasure and he beams watching you. “So fucking sexy.”

You cum on his fingers, as requested, writhing in his arms. Eddie holds you through it, stroking your thigh and whispering into your neck.

“That’s it, baby. Feels good, doesn’t it? Ohhhh I know it does.”

When your mind finally clears and your muscles melt into a numb puddle, you look up to find Eddie, the picture of ease sitting in front of you with your spread thighs still slung over the tops of his. He’d retrieved and relit the joint. He watches you over it as he takes a long, deep hit, his cheeks hollowing, as his other hand fists lazily over his swollen cock, now pulled out of his sweatpants.

“Well aren’t you a pretty picture,” he says with a crooked smile.

“Thanks,” you hum, preening under his gaze. Eddie’s smile turns wolfish as he lifts his cock and drops it so that the underside lands heavy over your wet slit.

“I was talking to kitty, but you sure are pretty, too, princess.”

~*~

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Thank you for reading, please reblog and comment to let me know what you thought!!

[murdrdocs]

saber tooth | f. odair

description. just two days out from the Games, your mentor and best friend, finnick odair, comes to your room late at night in a mutual fit of insomnia to fulfill your (potentially) dying wish 

includes. SMUT 16+, fem!reader, oral f!receiving, fingering, loss of virginity sans p in v, canon-complicit angst, mentions of finnick’s trafficking, best friends to lovers, reader’s a tribute, finnick’s her mentor, extremely brief misunderstandings, soft dom finnick, pleasure dom finnick, brief mention of drug use (one line), finnick and annie were never together but he mentored her, he rlly cares abt r :((, giggly sex (sometimes), throw away line abt lack of body hair but i rlly like body hair

a/n: whaddup whaddup! this started as a blurb but it um ,,, clearly expanded. there’s no p in v simply bc im so tired rn however i would like to continue this in the future if my mind would allow it :) also the title has nothing to do with the fic i was just listening to easily by chuck inglish

word count: 4k+ 

part 2

A week of anticipation, festivities, and celebration for the Capitol, was a week of anxiety, tears muffled into pillows, and wishing to be somewhere else for you. 

The week leading up to the 72nd Hunger Games. 

The Reaping, Opening Ceremony, and the three days of training that followed were mostly a blur. Your body picked up on the techniques you would need to survive, and with the help of Finnick, you’d managed to commit them to memory. You remembered the way you’d been trained to sit and talk and the jokes you should slip into conversation with Caesar tomorrow night. 

All of their training was working, and Finnick had told you that you had a high chance of making it out of that area. A high chance. Nothing was guaranteed at this point in your life. Which is why you needed to do a few final things. 

The door to your bedroom slides open. You lift your head from the pillow and squint. There’s a little light coming from the hallway, and it backlit the figure. But even without it, you would know who was coming to see you. The only person who’d been coming to see you since the arrival at the Tribute Center. 

“Hey, Finn,” you mumble, resting your head back against the pillow that’s always cool. 

Finnick takes a few steps into your room, stopping to flick a switch that only turns on the lamps beside your bed, and the two ambient ones in the corners. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” his voice is raspy, as if he’s tired, but not to the point of already greeting sleep. It’s a little later than it should be, you were recommended to have gone to sleep two hours ago but you couldn’t. There was too much going on in your head, too many unsaid words and undone actions. You couldn’t sleep with your consciousness this awake. 

Finnick voices the matter. “You can’t sleep, can you?” 

You shake your head, deciding to sit up a little, your bare lower half still secure underneath the thick comforter. Your room was always cold, and the silk sheets mirrored the temperature. Physically, you were the most comfortable you’d ever been, wearing the softest cotton undergarments, and a silk button up nightshirt, your toes warm beneath fuzzy socks. But the weight on your mind was the complete opposite. 

With the way Finnick looks at your face, he can tell just how exhausted you are. 

“Want something to help with that?” He asks as he sits at the edge of the bed, close but entirely too far from you. “A drink? Pills? The Capitol has it all, you know.” The way he says it is the opposite of marveling, the words laced with annoyance and frustration. His tone prompts a small smile from you. 

“‘M okay. I trust my body to do what it’s supposed to.” Finnick’s head is turned down, but you see the way the corner of his lip curls up. 

He lifts his head to fully smile at you, one of sympathy and pity and sadness. His hand reaches out and his palm rests over the outline of your shin. Far too many layers are between the bare skin on both of you, but you don’t say so. You just give Finnick an equally sad smile, expressing your dismay for your situation, and you begin to pick at your nails in your lap. 

“What’re you doing in here? Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

Finnick shakes his head. “No such luck for me either.” He shrugs as if he’s used to it and you remember that he’s been in this position too. Just a few years ago, a young boy, your best friend, was sitting in this bed, with similar thoughts weighing on his mind. And now his best friend was in that position. 

You push the sheets back, exposing the beginnings of the skin on your thigh, and you pat the space beside you. “C’mon,” you encourage, not ceasing your patting until Finnick scoffs and slides his slippers off, crawling up to slip under the covers with you. 

The bed is larger than you’d ever seen, something your escort called a ‘bed fit for a king’, but Finnick chooses to sit right beside you, the heat of his body warming yours. 

“We could watch something. What plays on the television in the Capitol?” Finnick’s sitting so close to you that you can feel him shrug. Whenever you reach over to the bedside table, pulling the drawer open to grab the remote, you come back to sit even closer to him, where your arms are pressed flush against each other. 

“Mostly shows about the lives of celebrities here.” 

You gasp, turning to face him. “Is that rumor about you appearing on some reality show true?” Finnick’s ears redden and that’s enough confirmation that you need. Your head throws back with a hearty laugh, and you click on the TV with hopes of finding an episode. 

Finnick sits quietly beside you as you click through the channels, reading the titles and watching maybe a second or two of content before you decide to try the next thing. When you’ve gone through most channels, you land on the one that will play the Games. 

He says your name, as a warning perhaps, but you click it anyway, seeing that they’re talking about you. 

“Now the odds of this one making it out are pretty high. She’s pretty, smart, and trained by the Finnick Odair,” a clip of you and Finnick appears, one that must’ve been taken backstage during the Opening Ceremony. He’s standing close to you, crouched down just enough to meet your eye level. You’re obviously nervous, and he’s obviously attempting to soothe those nerves, cracking jokes with a hand held to your heart, both of yours over it.  “The Capitol’s Prince.” The announcer pronounces those words clearly, enunciated, making sure every late night viewer understands Finnick’s alternate title. 

Clips of Finnick throughout the years show and you grow silent, watching how he commands a room better than you ever could. 

“If she were to make it out, I’m sure she could become the Capitol’s Princess, right?” The announcer smiles just as the remote is snatched from your hands and the TV is clicked off, ridding the bedroom of the colorful hues and leaving you and Finnick with the yellow light from your lamps. 

“Why did you–?” Finnick’s interrupting. He’s thrown the remote to the side of him and he’s turned to face you. 

“I want you to make it out of the Games, I really do.” You nod, watching the way his chest rises and falls with breaths that fill the hesitant silence. “But, I don’t want what happened to me to happen to you.” 

“What do you mean? You don’t want me to be loved and adored by the Capitol?” You say it a tad bit sarcastically, but your tone dulls down when you notice how serious his face is. 

He shakes his head. “No, I really don't.” You scoff, beginning to get upset over the idea that a night that was turning peaceful, began to turn on its head. “Because everything comes with a price here,” he says your name, making sure you’re listening. “The ‘love’ the Capitol has for me is ingenuine, they love me like I’m an object. Not a person with thoughts and feelings.” 

“Finnick, I don’t think I understand.” But you do, you really do. 

He tells you as much, that same sad smile from earlier on his lips. 

Before you can speak, he does. “Look, I came in here to ask you what you want.” 

Your eyebrows furrow. 

“Before the Tributes I mentor get sent off, I like to fulfill their wish. In case they don’t…”

“In case they don’t make it back.” He nods. “So a dying wish?” Another nod. 

“So, what d’you want?” 

You know what you want. You’ve wanted it since you were a teenager, watching Finnick, the most loved victor, leave for the Capitol and come back weeks later. Since you watched him train Annie Cresta and everyone, including yourself, believed there to have been something between them. Since he walked into your room just 20 minutes ago. 

“What I want, I don’t think I can ask you for.” You speak low, your voice a whisper. Your head rests on the headboard behind you, turned to face Finnicks. 

He shakes his head gently. “I have connections. I can guarantee almost anything.” 

“No, Finn.” You don’t think you can ask him for this. Especially with what he’s essentially just told you. It would be selfish, it would be insincere, it would ruin the friendship you have between you two. 

“I can’t.” 

His head’s already facing yours, and he brings one of his hands up to cup your cheek, his thumb caressing the skin. 

“Yes, you can.” 

“No, Finn, I can’t.” Your eyes sting, as does your nose, and you know there’s no use in pretending the tears aren’t there. He’s seen them, he’s acknowledged them by swiping his thumb under your eye, catching the first drop. 

“I would do anything for you. Just say the word.” 

You search his eyes, his face, the tip of his ears, his Adam’s Apple. You’re looking for his tell. But it’s not there. It’s just Finnick. Your Finnick. And he wants the best for you. 

You’re the most vulnerable you’ve ever been at this moment; sitting in a bed in the Tribute Center, just two days out from the Hunger Games, a period of uncertainty that is life or death; your best friend, and unrequited crush, as your mentor, having to hold your pieces together at least until the end of this. 

There’s no point in hiding anything. You know you need to lay it all out. So you do. 

“Even take my virginity?” 

The air is still. Stiff. He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t breathe. His thumb halts. He doesn’t blink. 

You sit there, watching him, holding in the sob that threatens to wrack across your body. 

“Forget it. I’m sor–” 

“Yes.” 

“What?” 

“Yes.” 

There’s a moment where you don’t act. A moment where disbelief trickles down your body like the tears from your eyes do on your face. 

“Finn…” 

“I would do anything for you. I have wanted you since we were young, but I thought…” 

“Doesn’t matter what you thought then. Not anymore. We go from here now.” 

And there is the nagging possibility that all of this could be because of your potential fate. Maybe he’s humoring you, or letting you in on that final step of human intimacy before your life ends. You prefer not to think about it. Especially whenever Finnick’s moving closer to you and you can feel his breath on your lips. 

Your lips are almost touching, the tanned skin of his face is right in front of you, the same goes for the pink of his lips. He’s almost there, then he says, “Are you sure?” 

“‘M sure.” And Finnick is kissing you. Finnick Odair is finally kissing you. 

He kisses you softly, sweetly, with precision and a gentle nature. As if he’s afraid that he’ll do something wrong and hurt you. 

You kiss him back in a similar fashion, just with added timidness that Finnick doesn’t possess. 

Your hands raise slowly, in choppy motions that are both due to your uncertainty, and the distraction of finally having the man of your dreams kiss you like you’re made of porcelain. But you manage to get your hands to Finnicks torso, palms pressed flat against his thin shirt so that you can feel the abs along his torso. 

You’ve felt them before, in time of play fighting, or whenever he would have you replicate his breathing or form. But touching along his torso in this circumstance is different. Now, your touch ignites a fire within you. It makes Finnick grip the back of your neck and pull you closer with one hand, the other sliding the covers away and hooking his hand at the back of your thigh, pulling your left leg over your right. 

Your hands slide down to the hem of his shirt, slowly starting to slide it up until he gets the hint and pulls away just enough for you to slide the shirt between you two, up and over his head. Then he’s back on you. 

When you sigh blissfully into his mouth, he starts to kiss you like he’s desperate to have you close. Like he wants to engulf your entire being until you’re intertwined. 

The best you can do is physically move closer to him, letting the hand on the back of your thigh guide you to straddling his lap. 

It’s then that Finnick pulls away from you. Your hands trail up to cup his cheeks, moving back to play with the golden blonde locks that seemed to never be out of place. 

He stares up at you, sea-green eyes pulling you even further into a state of enchantment. Whenever he tilts his head, eyes stuck on you, and kisses into your palm, you melt. His hand lifts to gently circle around your wrist, nimble fingers rubbing little circles into the skin. 

After a few moments of comfortable silence, Finnick speaks. “I need you to remember that even if I’m doing the work, you set the pace. You tell me what you like and don’t like. You tell me when to go and when to stop. Okay?” 

“Okay.” 

And then you’re back at it. His hands circle around to your lower back, pushing into the curvature to bring your chest closer to him. He uses the position to his advantage, dipping his head to kiss at the exposed bits of your skin; your neck, collarbone, the starts of your cleavage. He quickly becomes frustrated with the lack of skin, and you bite back a smile as you gently nudge his head back and begin to undo the buttons. 

He watches you in a trance-like state with a look that seems akin to awe. You can’t help but tease him just a bit, shifting in your position atop his crotch and slowing your work on the buttons. 

Finnick groans and his hands leave your lower back to push your own hands away, deciding to undo your buttons himself, grumbling something under his breath about you being a tease. 

When you giggle above him, Finnick has you pushed onto your back in what seems like the blink of an eye. Really, it did happen quick, but your eyes were already closed from giggling so hard, so reopening them to Finnick above you, your shirt opened and your barely confined tits in Finnick’s eyeline, is disorienting. 

“Jesus, look at you,” Finnick mumbles. And he is. His eyes are hungirly skirting over your figure, taking it all in. From your eyes, to the bra that you wear, all the way to the cotton panties that hug your hips. 

His gaze stops at your lower half for a while, watching your stomach rise and fall with your breaths and the way there’s definitely a little wet patch on your panties. 

“What am I gonna do with you?” He mumbles under his breath. The question is rhetorical, and meant only for him. But, in a fit of nerves, you answer anyway, needing to do something other than lay there. 

“I don’t know, Finn, there’s a lot that you can do. You can go down on me, give me your fingers, your cock.” 

His eyes lift to yours, shock evident within them. “Did you just say the word ‘cock’?” He laughs between the words, that perfectly pearly white smile greeting you. 

“Yeah,” you say, laughing through the syllables too. 

Finnick shakes his head with that smile still present. 

He swears under his breath but then his fingers are playing with the hem of your panties and you’re back under, focused on what he could possibly plan to do next. He hums, eyes on you, eyebrows raised. 

It takes you a second to realize what his intentions were, but you do soon enough. “Keep going. Please.” 

The tips of his fingers reach below the band of your panties. He begins to pull them down, just until your hip bones and the start of your mound becomes visible. At first, you disgraced the Capitols groomers' work of ridding your entire body of hair, but you can’t help but feel a little grateful that they did. You knew that Finnick wouldn’t care either way. 

You lift your hips, letting Finnick pull your panties over the curve of your ass. When they sit at the halfway point of your thighs, he lowers his head and presses his lips to the area right above the waistband. And he continues to do so, sliding your underwear down and kissing through the journey. 

The last kiss he gives you is on the arch of your foot, right before he guides the garment over the remaining part of your body, throwing them off to the side of the bed. 

Finnick sits back on his heels then, just looking at you, looking at your legs which are just almost crossed at the knee, your ankles together and one knee raised slightly above the other. You’re shielding the most vulnerable part of you, hiding it almost. But when his green eyes meet your center, briefly meeting your eyes, you slowly part your legs, allowing him to see you in all of your glory. 

Finnick sucks in a sharp breath of air, his chest rising with it. He doesn’t let it out until your legs are completely opened and bent at the knee, inviting him in. You sit halfway up on your elbows, watching him, waiting for him. 

It’s not long until he makes a move, just a few tense moments and then Finnick’s kicked into action. 

His calloused hands on your knees, sliding around to the back of your thighs as he lays on his stomach, directly facing your cunt. 

When he speaks, you can feel his breath on you. “I wanna taste you, sweetheart. Just for a bit. Is that alright?” 

His eyes are visible over your mound, but they’re not focused on you just this once. They’re focused on your cunt, scanning it, taking it all in almost as if he’s committing this moment to his very strong memory. 

You’re a little starstruck, reckoning with the notion that Finnick wants to give you head. Therefore, you sit there in stunned silence, attempting to find the words to deliver your over enthusiastic agreement. But Finnick takes your silence negatively. 

“You don’t have to say yes if you don’t want to, honey. Just wanna make you feel good. That’s what I’m here for.” And there are those eyes again. They’re pleading, but also making you feel comfortable, reminding you that you’re in charge. 

You smile gently, nodding. “Yes.” 

And the first lick has your head spinning. His tongue is warm, and wet, and he licks a long stripe from your leaking entrance to your clit. It’s slow, and methodical. He licks your juices up, but they’re coming back tenfold by the time he’s pressed a kiss to your clit. 

A surprised moan pushes up your throat. The feeling has your hips pushing into his face on their own accord, your elbows slipping out from under you and your head throwing back onto the mattress. 

Finnick disconnects from you for just a second to let out a pleased groan, but the absence is too much for you already. You’re wiggling your hips, searching for him. 

Finnick laughs and the sound has heat rising through you. “‘M still here. Not leaving this pussy anytime soon.” 

He lives up to his promise immediately. His mouth’s back on you, licking and sucking on your most sensitive parts. 

It’s now that you remember how experienced Finnick is. How knowledgeable he is about the general spots of someone’s body. And he’s able to apply that knowledge to your body, with the help of your zealous responses. 

You’re moaning, your back arching, your hands gripping the sheets. Your knees bend more, your legs spread more, it’s all more and more and more. You want more from Finnick. You need more. 

You’re communicating that fact when you finally have enough courage to fist a hand into Finnick’s hair, and it’s like he’s rewarding you when he slyly begins to probe a finger at your tight entrance. 

You’re clenched, far from relaxed, but with a deep breath, you’re loose enough for him to slide in to the first knuckle, then the second, then all the way, his single digit comfortable within your walls. 

Finnick fucks you with his finger, aiding the penetration with his pretty pink lips around your pink nub. He sucks, the pressure making your head spin, your consciousness in the clouds to the point where you don’t notice another of Finnick’s deft fingers teasing your entrance. 

“Another?” he asks, voice barely able to be heard due to his proximity to your cunt. 

“Uh-huh,” is all the affirmation you can give. 

It’s a little tight and uncomfortable at first, but once his digits are evened out and curling in you, and his tongue is lapping up your juices like it’s water, you’re riding so high in a blissed out state that discomfort is the last thing on your mind. 

Your approaching orgasm becomes known to you quicker than you can anticipate. It’s like all of a sudden there’s tension in your lower abdomen, begging for your attention, begging to be released. 

“Finnick, Finn,” he hums, not stopping any of his ministrations. “‘M so close. Almost there.” 

You hadn’t thought it to be possible but Finnick gives you more. His fingers fuck you faster and harder, his cheeks hollow as he alternates between sucking along your nerves and stroking his tongue is the areas that you’re most sensitive. 

It feels so fucking good, a pleasure you’d never experienced in your life. You couldn’t imagine being in this position with anyone other than your best friend, someone you trusted with your entire being. It’s as if he knows your body better than you do, because sooner than you would’ve liked, your back is arching and your legs are lifting off the bed and your nails are digging into Finnick’s scalp, all signs that your orgasm is right there and you cum with a loud cry that melts into breathy moans. 

Finnick pulls his fingers out of your cunt but his mouth stays on you, placing gentle kisses and kitten licks along the slicked area. When your legs have lowered and your breath has evened out, he pulls his head away from you, a wince leaving his lips. 

“Darling,” he starts, receiving an affirmative hum in response. “You’re pulling my hair out.” 

“Oh, shit, sorry.” Your hand lets go of his hair, your body burning with embarrassment. But Finnick’s bright laugh and content smile soothes you. 

“‘S okay,” he mumbles as he leans up and presses a kiss to your forehead, then your nose, then your lips. Your lips mold to his like they were created for each other, and the kiss is slow, methodical, loving. 

You whine when he pulls away, but his hands have already hooked under your thighs and he’s pulling you with him as he starts to sit back. 

You end up in the position you started in, sitting on Finnick’s lap, your hands on his shoulders. 

Under you, you can feel his bulge confined in his pants. You shift a little over it, your throat beating with your heart rate due to the anticipation. 

Finnick’s eyes close softly and his head throws back. Your hand rises to push back the bangs of his hair which lay on his forehead, in favor of resting your skin against his. 

“Sweetheart,” he groans. “We …. We can’t.” 

Your heart drops. 

“Huh?” 

“I wanna feel you, sweetheart, I swear.” His eyes open to stare at yours and you notice the sincerity in them. It doesn’t do much to lift your spirits, though. “But we can’t. Not yet.” 

Your eyebrows furrow, waiting for further explanation. It comes from him quickly. 

“I need you in your right mind in the Games. You need to be focused, and only thinking about survival. Nothing else.” 

“You’re so full of yourself.” 

He chuckles. “Maybe. But we have to play it safe.” A beat. “You trust me, right?” 

And you do. Wholeheartedly. 

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Season 1 Episode 1 :

of Katherine being thirsty. 🤤

His abs.

His chest heaving.

His vibranium arm.

His boxers and that blanket.

Lemme ride you, Sergeant. Or better.. suck the nightmare out of you.

🔥🌶️

Take Your Mind Off Of It » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader

Summary: Y/N helps Bucky take his mind off of the nightmare he just had.

Warnings: Smut (18+), language, dirty talk, kissing, hickeys, m receiving, unprotected sex, riding, vibranium arm kink, praise kink, Bucky’s dog tags, cockwarming, use of pet names

A/N: Thank you for sharing your horny thoughts with me🥵 @katherineswritingsblog

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes and typos.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞

A loud gasp left Bucky’s lips and he quickly sat up in bed, his hair messy, his eyes dilated, and breathing heavily with a thin layer of sweat covering his face. Bucky sat there, trying to gather his surroundings. The light from the TV lit up the bedroom. You heard his heavy breathing and sat up, facing him.

“Bucky, baby, breathe.” You say softly.

You grabbed his hand, placing it on your chest where your heart is so he can feel your heartbeat. Bucky took a few deep breaths before his breathing went back to normal.

“That bad?” You asked.

Bucky nodded his head yes.

“Do you want me to take your mind off of it?” You asked.

“Yes please. Anything.” Bucky says, almost sounding desperate.

Bucky watched as you threw the blanket off the two of you. You moved closer to him, kissing his lips softly and sweetly. One of your hands slid down the front of his body, your fingers tracing the lines of his abs. Your hand went lower, finding its way to the waistband of his boxers. Your hand slid past the waistband and wrapped around his half hard cock. Your thumb gently rubbed across his hip, using his precum as a lubricant. It didn’t take long for his cock to get fully hard.

“Doll, please.” He begs, almost whining.

“Tell me what you want, baby boy.” You say seductively.

“I need you to- oh fuck! I need you to suck my cock.” He says, followed by a small whimper.

Bucky helped you by taking off his boxers. You lowered yourself on the bed, getting in between his spread legs. You leaned down, kitten licking the length of his cock. You moaned when his precum hit your tastebuds. You wrapped your lips around his tip and sucked on it before putting his cock in your mouth. You placed your hands on his thighs, taking his cock further in your mouth and trying your best to accommodate his size as it got closer to your throat.

“F-Fuck…” Bucky moans, his head fell back against the headboard.

His tip hit the back of your throat causing you to gag a little, but you quickly relaxed your throat and took him almost easily down your throat. Bucky looked down, watching as you sucked his cock. His jaw dropped, moans leaving his lips. You looked up at him, making eye contact with him. One of your hands left his thigh and went to his balls, giving them a squeeze. Bucky’s eyes rolled to the back of his head and a loud moan left his lips.

“Fuck yes!” Bucky moans loudly.

Bucky pulled you off of his cock, pulling you onto his lap and gave you a much needed kiss. His tongue slid past your parted lips, exploring every inch of your mouth. You moaned into the kiss.

“I want you to ride me now.” He says.

You stripped yourself of your -Bucky’s shirt-and your panties. You lifted yourself up, lining his cock at your entrance. You slowly sunk down on him. A relieved moan left yours and his lips. His tip almost immediately touched your sweet spot. Your hands found their place on his chest. You rose yourself up until his tip was left inside of you and then you went back down. Bucky’s hands found their place on your hips, helping you ride his cock. A shiver went through your body when his vibranium hand touched your skin.

“You look so pretty like this.” Bucky praises breathlessly.

His praises urged you on. You rolled your hips against his. Bucky shamelessly stared at your breasts as they bounced every time you moved up and down on his cock. He leaned up, kissing along the swells of your breasts. His teeth bit down hard enough on your skin to mark you up. His vibranium hand left your hip to squeeze your nipple between his index finger and thumb, sending a tingling sensation through your body. You arched your back in pleasure. You practically shoved your breasts in Bucky’s face which he loved.

“Oh fuck, Bucky!” You moaned loudly, tilting your head back.

Bucky pinched your nipple one more time before his vibranium hand went down to your clit and began rubbing in fast circles, wanting to help you build up your orgasm quickly. Your pussy squeezed around his cock.

“Oh Bucky!” You moaned. “You always know how to make me feel so fucking good!” You praised.

Bucky’s right hand left your hip and went to your ass cheek, giving it a squeeze before slamming you down on his cock. A loud moan left your lips when his cock hit your sweet spot. Your eyes fluttered shut and you dug your nails in his skin, leaving red scratch marks his chest.

“I love you so much, babydoll.” Bucky kisses you hungrily. “So fucking much.” He says again.

“I love you too, baby.” You say against his lips.

Both yours and Bucky’s orgasms built up at the same time. Bucky’s orgasm came faster than yours.

“I’m so fucking close.” Bucky pants, leaning his forehead against your shoulder.

“Cum for me, baby.” You moaned.

Your name left Bucky’s lips loudly as he came inside of you, painting your walls. You weren’t too far behind him. Bucky sensed it and rubbed his vibranium fingers faster against your clit.

“Bucky!” You moaned, not being able to say a full sentence.

“Give it to me, doll.” Bucky whispers, kissing just below your ear.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you came with a loud moan of his name leaving your lips. Your movements came to a stop. You cupped his stubbly cheeks and gave him a sweet and much needed kiss. You two pulled away from each other’s lips, staring deep in each other’s eyes for a moment before Bucky maneuvering the two of you to lay down on your sides. Bucky didn’t even bother pulling his cock out of you. He always loves to warm his cock with your pussy.

“How do you feel, baby?” You asked, playing with his dog tags.

“Much better.” Bucky kisses you. “Thank you, doll.” He says against your lips.

“Anytime, baby boy.” You say, smiling against his lips.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

[s3thwrit3sstuff]

NO BUT I NEED SATORU AND SUKUNA INSIDE OF ME RIGHT NEEOOOWWWWW I CAN TAKE THEM.BOTH!!!!!

❝ Darling, won't you just plead, or should I begin to bleed? ❞

Heian Era!Sukuna Ryomen x ftm!reader x Heian Era!Gojo Satoru | alternate universe, NSFW | sub. bottom. reader (AFAB) | NOT PROOFREAD | wc: 5.4

warnings: mentions of murder, dub. con (Gojo Satoru), power imbalance, size difference, threesome, fingering, handjobs, blowjobs, anal sex, spit roasting, triple penetration, tummy bulging, improper use of RCT , marking, possessive sex, degradation, one of Sukuna's cock gets bigger out of spite, unrealistic amounts of cum, AFAB terminology (reader's genitals are referred to with cock, dick, hole, boycunt, boypussy, clit)

“Call off your dog, Sukuna,” he snarls. Sukuna’s grin stretches obscenely and he throws his head back to laugh. Satoru hopes to have hurt your ego — from the tall tales he’s heard of (Y/N), you were known to have a haughty air about you. Satoru is sorely disappointed as he hears you chuckling along with Sukuna. In any other situation, the sweet sounds of your laughter would’ve made his heart flutter. But it’s mixed with Sukuna’s cackling so intricately he shudders at the very thought.

“Come, dog.”

authors note: heed the warnings!!! * YN is described as having long hair because of the heian beauty standard (hair colour and texture not mentioned)!

When the sun sets over the horizon and tucks itself past the peaks of those great mountains, it isn’t unusual for the sounds of burning to follow. Little slivers of suns swaying on top of wax or dancing across oil. Naturally, the burning comes with smoke. Casual tantalizing curls emitting from the evershifting flame; make you wonder if the sun steams and smokes.

Does it stay in the darkness, its company being the dancers of its creation swirling with it to the crackling of its flames? Afterall, if the sun is the king of flames, it would make sense that he has his own concubines.

Your eyes pull away from the sprouts of candles at the edge of the throne. Leaning your head back, you now gaze up at the king of curses as he breathes in the flavourful, addictive, smoke from the burning tobacco and exhales it into the air. He swallows the ghostly concubines. Stealing another king’s treasure. It was like him; he was the true king, after all.

Sukuna pays you no mind. He had called you to lounge with him, had Uruame prepare you for a night of passion despite not yet touching you. He had simply tapped his lap and you filled out the space by cushioning your head on his big thigh.

He’s dressed in auspiciously white garments, the expensive material has you wondering what’s in store for the both of you. The King of Curses does not need primping. Even so, he is dressed loosely. The mouth on his stomach is visible and one of his sleeves threatens to fall from his shoulder. The hand holding the smoke pipe allows itself to be pushed while the lower pair holds onto your hips. He stares down at you, his four eyes glinting silently in question. You’re practically kneeling on his lap and you barely reach the bottom half of his lips.

“Do you recall how many people I’ve killed for their insolence?” his tone is drawled out, a tinge of amusement hidden behind the baritones. “Yes, my King. I’ve always enjoyed watching you destroy them,” your hands curl around the bulging muscles of his chest and you trace up the tattoos he has to reach his shoulders.

Sukuna takes you in. Uruame had outdone themselves. You’re dressed in his favourite colours. Nothing too restrictive, the layers were enough to entice but not to invoke annoyance. Japanese politeness and grace are interwoven into every stitch despite your less-than-innocent gaze. You’ve always had the prettiest eyes; he remembers jesting that he’d pluck them out to put into a jar just so he could see them every day. They trial the shape of your lips, painted with the shades of flower petals that bloom in the light of the heavens; he thinks the irony is all the more poetic.

Your mouth and heaven do not go hand-in-hand. It’s pure sin. From that wicked, silver, tongue to your saccharine-sweet smile to that spine-shivering laugh.

You were hell-born. Just like he was.

Gently, you slip your digits under the fabric of his shoulder and he watches you and your actions impassively. Four eyes give him more room to admire you with, whatever part of you. He imagines you mean to smooth out the — imaginary — wrinkles as your palm slips up and down his broad shoulders. Your touching earns a firm squeeze to your hips, his hands are so large they cover the entirety of your back. And when they squeeze it makes your eyes flutter. He could snap you in half with just one hand. Barely use any of his strength — Sukuna could kill you as an afterthought, toss your beautiful body aside, and never think of you again.

But he doesn’t.

“You are getting impatient, boy.” The hand on his chest could feel that rumbling. Your throne — his lap — moves and you let yourself be placed according to his will. Sukuna sets you back on his lap and splays you out with a look. You stretch out on him — if you were a cat your tail would’ve curled coyly into the air just under his chin.

“It is late, Your Grace.”

The only lights left were from the candles and pools of oil ignited.

“You are passion and flame and I’ve been prepared for you to alight.”

He thinks your flowery words are adorable but unneeded. Sukuna props his face on his knuckles as he gazes down at your exposed legs. They’re practically glowing and the scent of oil entices his cocks. The mouth on his stomach splits and his tongue curls over the teeth there - you giggle at the sight.

“You want me to fuck you,” he smirks sharply, “and I am telling you to wait, brat.”

“For what?” You prop yourself on your elbows, brows pinched. “The servant that prepared me has his head tossed into a hole and yet I can still feel his little prick inside of me.”

Taking Ryomen Sukuna’s cocks was not an easy feat. For the common man, a few fingers and oil would do. For a beast that is your king, a generous pour of oil and a man pumped with herb aphrodisiacs was needed. None of the men would ever reach completion and neither did you — Sukuna would not allow it.

They would fuck you but once Uruame felt that you were stretched enough to gape, they’d pull the man away and bring him to the courtyard. A hole would be dug and the naked man would be beheaded. His penis was tossed in there to be buried and forgotten. No one should live to tell the tale of preparing Sukuna’s precious concubine. They should be honoured they were chosen but they’ll never be seen again. Those poor bastards. At least they were useful before they died.

Mirth sparks in his eyes.

“I spoil you,” and at that, you bashfully turn away. “I deserve to be spoiled.”

A greeting comes from across the long hall. The servants next to the doors rise from their bowed positions and it slides open to reveal Uruame and a man touched by frost behind them. Uruame is kneeling, and the man is not.

“Your Grace,” Uruame bows deeper.

“The head of the Gojo clan, Gojo Satoru. As you requested.”

His skin was pale and his hair paler. You’re certain if the sun rose he’d turn all but translucent. The flicker from the candles attempts to cast shadows across his small face but they cannot darken those sky-blue eyes. Uruame had announced he was from the Gojo clan but, you’ve only ever seen such blue eyes from white men — he doesn’t appear to have been sired by one. You doubt they’d even let the head of their clan be of a mixed race.

Gojo Satoru is a freak of nature. He is a curse in the shape of a man.

“Does he not know how to bow?” Your purring tone is gone. It’s cold as Uruame’s technique. Sukuna eases it back with a deliberate squint of his eye.

“Bring him in. Then leave, Uruame.” They bow deeper (if that was even possible) and after Satoru steps through, Uruame is hidden by the sliding doors once again.

“Have you reconsidered my offer, sorcerer?” Satoru’s brows are furrowed, and his long sleeves hide his hands but from the flex of his shoulders you know they are clenched.

Rising from your throne you make your down the platform. Every step exposes your delicious thighs and legs and it is so indecent it makes Satoru’s ire falter. The sleeves of your outfit drag onto the floor and it weighs down the fabric around your shoulder; your neck and your clavicle down to the whisper of your chest has Satoru’s ears blush.

You walk in a half-circle to his right, your eyes set into a glare that disappears as slips from his eyesight. Satoru knows he should not let you get behind him but turning his head away from Sukuna seems more damning. Sukuna says nothing of your less-than-inviting nature, his silence prompting Satoru to speak. “To serve you or die?” he scowls. “The Gojo clan will not serve you, Ryomen Sukuna.” Sukuna sighs, placing his smoke pipe down as he frowns. “So you have come all the way here to waste my time and to die. So typical of you sorcerers.”

“If you wish for my clan to serve you, we require more than empty promises.” Satoru’s tone was akin to the sound of the first arrow whistling through the wind, the growl he let out being the twang of the released drawstring. Regret beads down the back of his neck as he feels the sharp edge of a curved dagger pressed against the hill of his throat.

“You ask my king to fulfill wishes? Do you think him a genie?” the shape of his teeth familiarizes themselves as his jaw clenches. The blade is a cursed object, it mewls and groans faintly; the opal colour breathing as it soaks in his blood.

“Call off your dog, Sukuna,” he snarls. Sukuna’s grin stretches obscenely and he throws his head back to laugh. Satoru hopes to have hurt your ego — from the tall tales he’s heard of (Y/N), you were known to have a haughty air about you. Satoru is sorely disappointed as he hears you chuckling along with Sukuna. In any other situation, the sweet sounds of your laughter would’ve made his heart flutter. But it’s mixed with Sukuna’s cackling so intricately he shudders at the very thought.

“Come, dog.”

With a curl of a finger, Satoru is able to breathe. You make your way to Sukuna, kneeling as you reach the top of the platform and crawl right onto his lap. The dagger slipped under the fabric around your waist.

“You are certainly an arrogant man, sorcerer. Your haughty clans fail to have taught you any diplomatic manners.”

“Diplomatic?” Satoru barks out a laugh. You narrow your eyes, bemused. “You’re a tyrant, King of Curses! The villages you’ve burned to the ground, the clans you’ve wiped out! Diplomacy? You’re taking the piss!”

Sukuna spots the curls of your lips and when glance up at him, he concurs that you do deserve to be spoiled because the two of you share the same thoughts.

This Satoru, this stubborn man; he would make a fine collection for both of you if he could survive a night.

“You require more than my word to serve me? Very well.” The nudging from your side earns him a purr and with your back turned to Satoru, you shed the fabrics. Blue eyes watch in confusion as they watch you kneel and push away the clothes from Sukuna’s shoulder.

“My darling dog has been hungry. He’s insatiable, every part of him.” One of his hands holds your chin and turns it so Satoru has a clear view of your side profile with your lips pushed forward.

“From his painted lips.”

Another hand slips down the waist of your outfit and it gives way to show the small of your back. Nearly the entirety of your back is marked from Sukuna’s lips, teeth, nails, and hands like a canvas of artwork.

“To his tight holes. You cannot see it, sorcerer, but he is clenching around the tip of my finger. Hungry.”

The hilt of your dagger is askew but neither paid it any mind. There’s more rustling and you’re almost completely naked as you obediently let yourself be displayed.

“Ah!” The wet squelch of a tongue makes your back straighten and your fingers spasm as they tighten their hold on Sukuna’s robes.

“His useless cock is already leaking.”

“What are you asking of me, Sukuna?” Satoru speaks through gritted teeth. But his skin is so pale it betrays his weak resolve. Those reddened cheeks and ears, the racing heartbeat; Sukuna doesn’t need four eyes to know that Satoru’s dick was interested in whatever is being offered.

“Fuck my darling boy and your family will not be cursed by me while they serve me, Satoru.”

“W — What?” he sputters. Meanwhile, you’re all but melting as the sounds continue. He sees your ass trembling as your expression melts in pleasure.

Sukuna arches a pointed brow as his hand tugs the clothes of your body and it flutters onto the ground in a fancy display. There you are. Naked as the day you were born. Satoru should look away; but how does one pull their sights away from a body carved by the devil? Angelic in all the wrong ways, temptation sticks to your skin like perfume and Satoru is not a saint but he feels as though a single touch would damn him. In fact, just looking at you is dangerous.

“Are you a virgin? Or is my concubine not to your taste?”

Your nail digs through Sukuna’s shoulder. So his large tongue sweeps below your drenched cunt to soothe your irritation.

“I warn you to answer that question with caution, Gojo Satoru,” you hiss out.

“Perhaps he’s not a fan of men,” Sukuna reasons. “Common men perhaps. Are you calling me common, My King?” the squelching sound of your nails digging in makes streams of crimson slip down Sukuna’s skin and the sight of it has Satoru gasping (again).

“Put your claws away, boy. As if I would sink my cock into a common man. No, I take you like a proper bitch. This body may be different, but this tight hole?”

Satoru watches a tongue appear from Sukuna’s palm. The pink muscle pushes in and the rim of your asshole easily gives in, back arching further to assist. "And this?" Satoru sees the dexterous muscle from his stomach curl. A tongue larger than any he's ever seen, squirming its way inside of you from the front, and it makes you gasp airily in pleasure as it eagerly wriggles deeper.

“A body made to be fucked, to be left leaking with cum for days. And it is rare, Satoru, for it to leak with cum that isn’t mine.”

Satoru takes a tentative step back, shame coursing through him as he tears his eyes down.

“This is — This is dishonorable — “

“If you walk through that door, Satoru, you’ve sealed the fate of your clan to be erased forever.”

You moan as his tongue grows longer and those bloody fingers wrap around Sukuna’s thick neck. The mask on Sukuna’s face, the eyes on it, narrow the tiniest bit.

“And you’d offend my concubine greatly. He’ll enjoy murdering each and every one of your clan members for the disrespect.”

The candles shudder as the wind blows through the slits of the wood. It causes the flames to dance and the shame Satoru is experiencing to be swallowed down. He is frozen there for a moment, your sighs of pleasure like a siren call to hell. Sukuna’s great tongue hides behind a row of teeth, the grin most likely identical to the one he wears on his face, as Satoru approaches the steps of the platform.

“Come, Gojo Satoru.”

Climbing up the stairs was akin to walking to the gates of hell. Satoru can see the sheen of sweat on the back of your neck. He wonders if every part of tastes like heaven. Your tears, your slick, your sweat, your cum, your blood. Without even laying your hand on him once and you've already destroyed him, (Y/N).

"Kneel." Sukuna's words are a vow. An agreement. If Satoru's knees had settled onto the wooden floor, he'd have sealed the fate of his entire clan to serve under Ryomen Sukuna. His pupils quake, taking a sharp intake of breath as he tries to steady his heart.

Your hands invade his vision. The palms of Sukuna's concubine are soaked in crimson — was that why they were so soft? Your nails still have Sukuna's blood and the feeling makes spiders crawl up his spine.

"Gooseflesh rippling?" You whisper as your naked body finally earns his focus. You're in a puddle of your clothes, kneeling before him. Tilting your head, you surge upwards and press your forehead with his. His eyes may be haunting but yours are unforgettable.

It reminds him of the first time he'd ever peered into the darkness of the woods behind his clan's estate. How the light never reaches past the woodline. The silence. The way his brain made up shapes and faces and beings and curses and you.

In that memory, there you are. Between the mighty trees, what little light did reach you making your eyes reflect it back; as if you didn't have a soul yourself and all you can do is pretend.

"Kneel, boy." You say and Satoru's knees buckle.

The thud that resounds was final. Your grin is terrifying. Sukuna looms over your shoulder and his eyes are glowing with excitement.

Gojo Satoru had made a deal with two devils.

"Good sorcerer," your face comes closer and your lips acquaintances themselves with his. They're pillowy and soft. Blood rushes south despite Satoru's conflicted feelings. If he pretends you're not who you are, perhaps he can delude himself into thinking you're someone he loved; a man he wishes to devour; Violet eyes, black hair, upturned eyes with a voice that'd make angels sigh.

That image disappears as he feels your fingers wrap around his throat. You say nothing. But the second Satoru's eyes shoot open, he sees the unamused expression on your face.

"Now, don't get yourself killed so early on in the night, Satoru," Sukuna muses out. His lower hand reaches to grasp the nape of your neck and it squeezes hard enough for Satoru to hear your bones wheeze under pressure.

"Come here, darling." You turn away with a huff.

Satoru doesn't know what to do with himself so he is content to watch as you undress Sukuna. The King of Curses watches, enraptured by your movement as his torso is now bare of anything. The mouth on his stomach, that monstrous tongue, wets your chest and you simply shudder but continue your task.

"My concubine can be rather pouty when he isn't paid attention to. Best to not let your mind wander, Satoru."

You scowl, bending over to mouth at Sukuna's crotch as he holds the back of your head. The sight of your dripping cunt and ass has Satoru's cock rising to attention.

"How dare he even do so. I'll slice his cock off," Sukuna thinks the sight would be amusing but he simply guides your head lower.

There were rumours of Ryomen Sukuna's endowment.

If he had another pair of everything, did that mean his cock was the same?

Satoru wonders how you aren't split in half as he sees Sukuna's cocks twitching in your grasp. They're thick and heavy, bumping into each other as they perk up from your attention. The tip of it is nearly bright red, angry, and demanding a hole to sink into. The veins on it must make you keen often because you tongue at them with a pleased grin.

"Satoru." He tears his eyes away from the sight. Sukuna smiles at him, ignoring your pleased groans as you take the tip of his cock in your mouth while your hand strokes over the other.

"Feast, Satoru."

The command is so simple yet so vague. Satoru can't quite comprehend it. So he stares at Sukuna then at you, kneeling before your King with the most obscene noises coming from your mouth. There was no way the phallus could even comfortably rest on your tongue, each the length of your face and as thick as your wrist.

It must be uncomfortable. He must have other concubines for this exact reason. There was simply no way you alone could please him.

Your head rises from between your shoulders, and a long stroke from the base to the tip of his cock has Sukuna exhaling through his nose; he sees you bob up and then down. A minute gagging noise slips through but then you widen your knees and somehow you dip your head low.

"That's it, darling. Take your fill."

He wasn't lying when he said you were greedy. Satoru pushes himself to stand and Sukuna would usually kill men for not bowing their heads to the floor but he wants to see what the white-haired man intends to do.

Cheeks sucked in, eyebrows sloped delicately as your jaw strains to keep itself intact. Sukuna is well-endowed, big, humongous, huge — whatever other synonym you'd use to describe big cock(s). You feel someone move your bangs out of the way.

"He's halfway down..." Satoru had seen a lot in his life. From the fantastical curse techniques of other sorcerers to the nightmare-inducing curses, the wealth from his clan members also assists the opulence he's known since birth. The whores his uncles had given to him as a gift for his birthday — the array of positions they knew, of how willing they were to do whatever he asked with a grin even if it involved humiliating themselves or him.

But he'd never seen a man as handsome as you take such a monstrous dick in his mouth with no effort. The stretch of your lips, the smear of the red pigment around it, and on Sukuna's cock.

"Beautiful, isn't he?" Sukuna boasts. "Usually, the other concubines look like fishes speared on a pike when they take me into their mouths." Your eyes open in a glare and Satoru placates it by stroking your temple with his thumb.

"Not even a mention?" Satoru's inquiry earns a chuckle from Sukuna. "No. He will not allow it, if I wasn't so far down his mouth I'm sure he would've pulled away to complain." The hand on your head is not Sukuna's but it holds you firmly in place.

"How do you even fuck the other concubines?" Satoru wonders.

"(Y/N) usually slaughters them a week after I've brought them in." Satoru's shock weakens his hold, so you pull away with a cough and frown deeply up at the two men.

"I do not slaughter them! They just so happened to have ill-fated ends." You squeeze his cock one more time before turning your attention to his lower half, kissing it sweetly on its head before smearing his precum all over your lips, the smell of it making your cheeks warmer than it already was.

Truly, (Y/N). You didn't need to play this part of a proper highborn so astutely. Even if you beheaded the last concubine he had in front of him instead of summoning a curse to slam into it, resulting in the palanquin and the concubine within it along with her attending ladies being thrown off a cliff and mangled beyond words; he wouldn't have punished you.

It was your right to exorcise whoever you needed to so long as it didn't interfere with Sukuna's will. It pleased him to make you bridled with rage to result in murder, why wouldn't it? The blood that painted you from your head to your toes. It cannot all be his doing.

His dearest concubine, you mustn't get queasy so quickly. Show him the lines you'll cross to ensure he remains yours. Kill whoever you please, maim the sorcerers who take him away from you, burn down villages, and bask in their cries and their pain with him.

Hide your giggles behind your silk sleeves if you must but don't you dare hide your amusement of carnage from him; command curses to tear men apart and slice women to shreds. Everything is yours, (Y/N). Everything you wish for, everything you ask for, everything you need, and everything you didn't even think you required.

The world is yours.

"Of course," he grins and the tongue from his stomach reaches out to lick your cheek.

"Astonishing," Satoru mutters. Concubines killing each other aren't anything new though he sincerely doubts the others truly understood what they were getting into when they became Sukuna's. "Thank you," you reply after combing your hair back to take his other cock in your mouth.

Satoru feels overdressed and Sukuna was not in the business of doing that task for him. So he sheds his layers, the symbols of crane wings embroidered in the sleeves shimmer gloriously up at him. Satoru folds them over to hide it.

He will need to forget about everything else tonight. If he wishes to remain sane or tolerate the both of you — he will use his other head to guide him.

"Milky skin." You purr from Sukuna's lap. "Pale as the moon. Eyes as blue as the sky. I would kill you if you lived in this palace."

Satoru scoffs, standing with his cock twitching in the cool breeze.

"How fortunate for the both of us that I don't live here then." He hisses as your grasp onto his semi-hard dick.

"Even the hairs here are white. What a pretty cock." The feeling of your velvet tongue on his tip makes his breath shudder. It's nowhere close to Sukuna's length —or girth —but that doesn't cause him disappointment. He's longer than average, his cockhead poking the back of your throat, and veiny, mainly on his sides.

"Good weight," he moans as your lips trace the prominent veins, painting his blushing cock with your marks. Satoru doesn't understand what you want to him to say to the comment, a thank you seemed unbecoming and anything else would be odd. So he says nothing and just caresses your jaw to guide your mouth forward.

"Take your fill, (Y/N)."

The position you're in is not entirely new. You've taken Uraume and Sukuna together before. Witt their sex is in your mouth while your King takes you from behind. Ah, what fond memories. You really should invite the ever-so-loyal servant into your bed once again.

What a talented mouth they had. Such vigor to please you, adoration pouring from them with every flick of their tongue.

Sukuna is still a possessive lover. That did not change. But he does find amusement in the way you ache for Uraume's body and something about the way Uraume strokes themselves to completion as they watch the two of you fuels him with pride.

But enough about your lovely Uraume.

Satoru had placed his robes beneath your knees and so you suck in your cheeks as thanks as you suck on his length. Your hands were on his knee and his fingers held a fistful of your hair. The silken cloth beneath you makes you inch forward with each thrust from Sukuna.

"The way he's stretched around me. Satoru, I'll save his other hole for you to fuck, this one is all mine," his hips are flushed against your ass. He can feel your cunt attempting to push him out, resisting the stretch that would've killed others, as cursed energy flows through your body. It would ebb away, the need to heal yourself, as your body gets used to his size but fuck does it make Sukuna grin absolutely monstrous at the very fact you even need to do so.

You can't blame him. It's not like he'd never hurt you in any way you didn't like.

Your thighs are clenched tightly around his other cock. Luscious thighs slicked with oil that had been conveniently placed nearby and making sounds almost as obscenely as your filled cunt.

Satoru's jaw is loose. Throaty groans and appreciative moans rewarding your efforts as your nose presses against the patch of pubic hair he has. Diamonds line your waterline as you breathe through your nose, the back of your throat squeezing around Satoru's cock.

"Fuck!" He pulls you away, stroking himself furiously with one hand and holding your head in the other. The expression on your face should be preserved forever, Satoru thinks. So that future men will wish to be born in the same era as you.

His brows furrow in annoyance at how ethereal you look.

You should look whorish — which you do! But there's something unreal about it. Picture perfect, an embodiment of lust, depravity that beckons with that wet tongue and wetter eyes.

"S'kuna! Oh, yes, yes — Darling, you fill me so well!" Your voice is hoarse as you're jostled back and forth, nails leaving claw marks on the wooden floors. Satoru lets go of your head and you stretch out like a cat, the top half melting as your back arches into a perfect position.

Sukuna kneads at the mounds of your ass, splitting it apart to watch your asshole winking back at him while he holds your waist. It's brutal how he fucks you. Satoru stands and backs away to watch, his breath coming out in barely there white puffs and his heartbeat drumming through his ears.

"Fuh - fuck! Mpfh! Ngh — Your cocks are beautiful, they fill me so well," He tightens his hold on you and the moan you let out as he moves your body makes Satoru's cum bead on his tip.

Sukuna chuckles as he sees Satoru cursing and wiping away his shame. "You've never been in a room where people aren't salivating over you have you, sorcerer?" Satoru frowns pointedly at his condescending tone.

"Hah! I feel you in my stomach — You're — !"

"Must you belittle me any chance you get? Are you trying to compensate for something?" Satoru retorts. It makes Sukuna bark out a laugh. Strong biceps curl and flex as he rights your upper half so that it's pressed to his front.

On display for Satoru with Sukuna's greediest mouth curling around your chest to tease your chest.

"Compensate, is that the word you used?"

Between your slicked thighs, his cock spears through them in tandem with the one inside you. Satoru's eyes widen at the sight of the prominent bump poking from your stomach. The fact that you aren't dead is a clear testament to your skills — both in bed and in battle.

"I've heard no one has ever cut his skin," Satoru kneels again in front of you, nose curling at the dexterous muscle that flicks at his chin. "I know Reverse Curse Technique is a useful skill to have...but I never thought you'd be so perverse to use it so shamelessly."

"Get off your high horse, S — Mfh! That feel s'good — Satoru!"

"Wrong name," Sukuna growls near your ear. It manages to split Satoru's lips into a smirk as he cups your chest in each hand. It's slicked with saliva and he ignores the disgust he feels as he locks his lips with yours. Sweet as ever, despite the saltiness that lingers on your tongue.

"If his cunt is yours," Satoru pants out between kissing you. His thumb tweaking your nipples between his index, his cock hanging heavily as it fills up once again.

"Then he'll have to face away. I'll take his ass," he bites down on your lower lip. The sensation of his teeth and Sukuna's rough palms tightening their grip on you have you squealing in pleasure. His hips pause, it gives you enough time to form words while the men stare each other down for a second.

Sukuna was beginning to miss Uraume's presence. They never glared at him with open animosity, unadulterated wanting and greedily claiming your chest with a grip that'd leave bruises.

The shadows of a scowl crossed his face. Insolent little brat. But so fucking gorgeous. Strong too, from what he's heard.

He wasn't anywhere near as beautiful or strong as you but Sukuna has always had a penchant for these types. No one walks all over him. But he does find it amusing when pretty faces are so defiant — or when their heads are staked on a pike with crows plucking their eyes out.

You're breath shudders as Sukuna pulls you off his cock, leaning onto Satoru. He wraps his arms around you, eyelids fluttering at the feeling of your wet lips tracing his jaw while your body is all but boneless.

He inhales sharply as you grab his cock. "Thankfully, you're not — hah — completely incompetent in the sack. Impressive stamina, sorcerer." That, he could say thank you too. So he does.

Satoru is kind as he maneuvers you to face your beloved. Was that irritation in his chest at how excitedly you allowed Sukuna to claim your lips? Gods, no.

"Get closer," you said as you glanced at him over your shoulder. "If the both of you are going to fuck me, get closer."

What was it that Sukuna told him to do again?

Feast?

You can't tell where your pleasure begins or ends. Every nerve was set aflame and you weren't even sure if your body could've survived this if it weren't for your cursed energy.

Because from behind you, Satoru's thick member is spearing you again and again with Sukuna's. The idea of Satoru's cock inside of you seemed to have upset him enough to want to...accompany it in its endeavors. The sorcerer is hypnotized by the way your rim furls and unfurls on his blushing dick, how it greedily squeezes down every time he hits home and bumps his cockhead with Sukuna's. Even though their cum was creating a frothy ring of white at his base — he seems intent on pumping you with more and more and more. Marking your insides as white as his hair. He spreads your cheeks apart, groaning each time he does, and fuck, he's filthy as he whispers into your ear.

"You take us so fucking well. Like a proper whore, huh?"

"I'm not — I'm not a whore, you —"

Then, at the front, Sukuna's displeasure at Satoru's brazen attitude was taken out on your cunt. Still, you take all of him in because what concubine would you be if you couldn't? Your pride was on the line and you'd rather claw your own eyes out than let it be broken down.

His cock was inside of your cunt. You were more than pleased.

Sukuna's face floats above yours, his hands gripping everywhere while Satoru was chased off to just handle your ass. Though even then, he'd grab a handful of each cheek just to leave bitemarks on it — and annoy Satoru.

"Look at you," he groans out. His vermillion eyes are hooded with lust as he cradles your face.

You were perfection. A filthy little demon made to accompany him until the end of time. Your brows sloped so prettily, eyes hazy and lashes clumped together with tear streaks down your face. Lips red and bruised, neck littered with angry and dark marks.

"My King, my beloved, I — Oh, fuck, I'm close, I'm close," you whimper for what felt like the 5th time that night alone.

Why you were cumming? You weren't even sure.

The aching stretch of both holes as your brain is wrecked with too much pleasure is causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head. Your hands spasm from within one of Sukuna's hands and your whole body shakes as you feel yourself cum again.

"Ah, shit!" Satoru groans as he pulls out, frowning as cum follows his departure and drops onto the floor. "You're just as awful as he is," he hisses out to Sukuna as he glares at the way the cock he'd been sharing your ass with stopped growing. Snug as a bug as it plugged you up. Satoru had already been close, with a few more thrusts he'd be filling you up once again. Then, what he thought was you tightening up turned out to be Sukuna making his cock so big it made the fit painful.

Fucking asshole.

"If I was as awful as he was, I would've cleaved the top of your head off, Gojo." Sukuna grabs your ass and your wanton mewl makes both men twitch.

His thrusting picks up its speed and you fight back his hold to wrap your arms around his neck. Sukuna allows it. He's close. You can tell. He's close and like a child, he decides he's the only one allowed to flood your insides with his cum, overflow your body until it forgets the taste of Gojo Satoru's.

"Sukuna, Sukuna — My lover, my beloved," you manage a dopey grin as you messily mould your lips together.

"Cum with me, Sukuna."

He's wonderfully loud when he does. Violent too. His nails digging into your waist and ass while he thrusts himself balls deep inside of you. Satoru's amazed your body hadn't given out — amazed at your endurance and how your cursed energy levels hadn't once seemed to deflate once in the time the three of you had been naked.

He shouldn't hope for it — but Satoru wonders how you would fare in a fight with himself. In fact, he cums into his own fist and onto the floor at the very thought.

Sukuna groans as you squeeze around him, another orgasm washing over you in pathetic spurts of wetness from your cunt.

Soft panting fills the air. The two servants by the door rise from their knees to slide the door open and Uraume walks in with three women behind them.

"Fuck," Satoru should scramble to get off his kneeled position but his body is too pumped with pleasure to even process the command. "Oh, don't feel shame, sorcerer," Sukuna muses out.

The King of Curses leans back, settling on his throne with you in his lap and still snuggly inside of your holes. Uraume comes to your back, and two girls tend to Sukuna, gracefully wiping him down while Uraume does the same to you.

The other girl does the same to Satoru and he simply tosses his head back as he falls back onto his calves, groaning at the cool water.

"They've heard everything already. Your sacrifice for your clan. How noble."

A weak giggle comes from the mess of limbs on Sukuna's torso. It's still one of the most heart-fluttering sounds Satoru had ever listened to and he hates how his cheeks reddens once again as you lift your head to smile at him.

"So very noble, Gojo Satoru."

[trashmouth-richie]

𝚍𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚜?

summary: just a summer day with your best friend, his girlfriend and his best friend.

A/n: I think I’ve written shy and awkward Eddie one other time but I just love him. He’s a little shy in this but the other chapters he’ll be very awkward

Eddie x fem! Reader, best friend! Gareth

18+ fluff, sweet + shy Eddie.

part 1/?

pt. 2: my ties are severed clean

pt. 3: so I turn back the time

“C’mon princess, the water isn’t that cold.”

“Wanna play mermaids?”

—

The van skid to a stop in the parking lot of Benny’s. Clouds of dust circling in its wake. Loud, mind splitting music blaring from the speakers, turning heads in the diner to glare out the filthy fog stained windows to see who would cause such a ruckus on this beautiful Sunday afternoon in the cozy sleepy town of Hawkins. 

  Your bestfriend since kindergarten, had called you earlier today, begging you to go to the pool with him and a friend.

  “Aren’t we a little old for that?” You protested, balancing the corded phone between your ear and shoulder as you tie the pink apron strings around your waist, “besides Gare, I gotta work today.” 

  Even though his pleads and promises to make it worth your while peaked your interest, you still turned him down. Rent was due in the next week and you were short. 

  So you went to work, waiting tables and slinging pieces of cherry pie to the cheerful families after Sunday service. A smug hint of regret on your customer service smile. 

  It was 91° outside, making the diner feel like a special secret layer of hell that only existed in Hawkins. The itchy starch of your uniform clung to your skin and, sweat pooled down your back and made your hair limp. You took orders while fanning yourself with a menu. 

  Rubbing a sweaty glass of tea on your neck to cool yourself down, you had already replaced your usual bubblegum with ice cubes, melting too quick on your tongue to make it worth it. 

  By 2 o’clock you were tired and uncomfortable from being hot and sweaty. A combination mixed with irritation as one of your regulars yelled at you for forgetting ketchup. And when you slammed down a bottle on his table and cracked a half wit here you are, the bell above the front door dinged to alert you another no tipping customer came in for their dinner. 

  You stretch your lower back with both hands on your hips slightly, you call out behind the faded white swinging doors welcoming whoever to Benny’s and that you’d be right with them. 

  Straightening your hair and grabbing a few menus and napkin rolled silverware, you hear a familiar voice. 

  Not knowing him on a personal level, just from afar. Always with Gareth and the boys, the lead singer of their Hawkins famous band. The long curly haired, mysterious, Eddie Munson stood at the door. 

  He was leaning against the door frame, an unbuttoned flannel flapping gently with the oscillating steel blades of the old fan. The prettiest grin stretching his face into a sweet smile. 

  You didn’t have time to address him before his face turned into a makeshift look of worry. Big doe eyes glistening with eyebrows pulled upward into that mess of curls 

  It’s Gareth, there’s been an accident. 

  Without thinking, you throw the menus down on the nearest shelf and run to tell Benny you have to leave. Grabbing your purse and keys. 

  Gareth was always fucking around, taking his skateboard behind Jeff’s car, lighting fireworks off in the barrels behind the mall— it could be anything. 

  The tears are still fresh in your eyes when the seatbelt clicks into place, followed by a pair of warm hands covering your eyes, the faint familiar smell of camel cigarettes and chips. 

  Eddie speeds off from the parking lot and you gasp and turn around to hear the giggling boyish laugh of none other than Gareth. 

  Sitting smug with a cigarette tucked between his lips, his girlfriend Molly sitting next to him, a small smile on her thin lips. 

  After punching your friend and listening to the two rowdy boys laugh loud at your tears you explain through a pout that you don’t even have a suit. 

  Of course the shared 5 brain cells left between them already had that covered. 

  So here you were, ass pinched in the plastic chairs at the Hawkins Community Pool. The mothers of young children flocked to their reserved seats positioned carefully beside the wooden lifeguard perch. Eager for the brainless attention and smug mustache grin from the mullet wearing asshole that was Billy Hargrove. 

  When arriving to the pool, Eddie and Gareth tore off their shirts and shoes, both wearing cut off jeans into the cool water. Diving into the deep end despite the whistles from the sour faced lifeguards that forbade them from running. 

Heels over head back-flips, cannonballs that sprayed the sidewalk, Olympic style dives from the high dive, throwing kids in the pool who came back for

more—they hadn’t stopped since getting here. Eddie’s soft brown curls hung wet—almost straight down his back and floated in the cool water as he climbed the steps up from the deep end.

  Molly rubs another layer of baby oil on her legs and lets out a big sigh, her tortoise shell sunglasses sitting perched on her button nose. “It was Eddie’s idea, believe it or not.” 

  “What was?” You question, trying to adjust the skimpy borrowed red string bikini around your boobs. 

  “Picking you up,” she answers, a smirk in her lips, “he’s been begging Gareth all summer to give him the okay to ask you out.” 

  Eddie Munson? 

  “Nah uh..” 

  There was no way. 

  “Swear on the Bible, babe,” Molly grins, and she flicks the lighter against her pall mall. 

  “Gareth told me he was dating that girl who works at the Hideout, the one with the big tits?” 

  She rolls her eyes, “Gareth just didn't want his best friend dating his other best friend, he wouldn’t be able to choose sides if you guys broke up.” 

  “I barely even know him,” you say slowly, suddenly feeling a swarm of butterflies tickle your tummy, “he was older than us in school and I wasn’t in Hellfire.” 

  Flashes of your high school years blur before you, when he wasn’t making an ass of himself in the lunch room, Eddie was quiet, small laughs with his friends and completely enamored by D&D. 

  “Well according to Gareth, he’s been wanting your number for years, but was too shy to ask.” 

  You caught his eye a few times since getting to the pool. A shy glance here or there, dark eyes peeking over from the crest of the water to check if you had seen his cool trick from the high dive. 

  Eddie Munson had a crush on you. 

  “Babe!” Gareth calls from the side of the pool, his mop of scraggly curls dripping, “get in the water with us.”

  Molly pushes her sunglasses into her thick blonde hair, “absolutely not, I didn’t come here to play.” you both giggle at him as he pouts and you almost jump out of your skin when Eddie looks directly at you.

  “What about you?” he asks, splashing a handful of water up at you, the droplets hit you like lightning. 

  A small squeal leaves your lips as you wipe the water off your warm tanning skin, “fuck! that’s freezing!” 

  “Oh c’mon princess,” he purred, ignoring Gareth’s eye roll and wiping a hand down his slightly sunburnt face, “the water isn’t that cold.” 

  His smile warms your insides and sends an ache to your core. Lowering your chair you lay flat on your back, tossing a middle finger to the two boys floating in the deep end, a small victorious smile on your lips as the sun shines on your face.

  You didn’t remember ever seeing Eddie with a girlfriend, and from the lies Gareth told you about him being a ladies man, you figured maybe he just didn’t date.

  A shadow is casted against your stomach and face and you peek open one eye to see Eddie standing before you, dripping chlorine water down his tattooed chest. His cutoff black jeans hanging heavy on his hips, the black boxer briefs sitting dangerously low on his hip dips. His large hands thread through his hair wringing out the dark curls onto the concrete.

  Your thighs clench at the sight and your breath hitches in your throat.

  “Don’t make me pick you up and toss you in, sweetheart.” he says all too smooth, shaking his head like a dog. A toothy grin plastered on his ridiculously good looking face. 

  You put a foot onto his wet chest, stopping him in his tracks and wiggling your painted toes against his tattooed skin, “you wouldn’t dare.” 

  And what is meant to stop him only drives his want further. Before you can figure out what is happening, Eddie has you scooped up in his arms and is tickling your sides. 

  “No no no! Eddie, please!” 

  Your kicking and giggling falls on deaf ears as his cold wet skin seeps into your swimsuit, the ends of his hair bead water onto your chest as you cling to his neck. 

  Standing on the edge of the pool, his back facing the water, the browns of his eyes lighten in the sun, and his eyelashes kiss together as he squints. 

  He licks his lips, and you see the flash of what looks like a small metal ball on his tongue, “d’you trust me?” 

  Scrunching your nose you close your eyes and nod, you hear a laugh erupt from his chest as he falls back into the water with you. 

  The water was freezing. And Eddie’s hair covered your face like silky seaweed. Opening your eyes under the water, you see Eddie smiling at you, bubbles encasing him. He grabs your hand and you both break the surface of the water. 

  “Eddie, you jackass!” Molly yells from her chair as Gareth takes comfort in your chair next to hers, “you could have hurt her.” 

  “She’s in good hands,” Eddie yells, his eyes never leaving yours as he treads water in front of you. 

  You blush under his stare, the butterflies taking over and fluttering wildly, you feel like a teenager.

   And you’re almost embarrassed when you blurt out, “wanna play mermaids?” 

  And more surprised when Eddie only laughs and says, “teach me?”

  Your sides hurt from laughing, legs ached from playing like kids with Eddie. Just when you’d think he would want to stop and sit out, he’d come up with another game.  

  Sharks and minnows: he volunteered to be the shark each time just to be able to chase you around the pool. 

You had repeated diving contests off the high dive: where he waited for you in the water raising up his fingers in numbers to every single dive you performed as if he was a judge at an event, his smile wide and cheery. 

  He laughed at the way you asked him to do George Washington style hair dos, but dunked his head into the water to proudly show his new hairstyle, trying not to melt at your little giggle and the feel of your fingers in his hair, pushing his bangs back into submission. 

  When the pool was nearly empty and a sunburnt Molly and Gareth took the van to go get Aloe Vera before Melvald’s closed, Eddie closed you in around the edge of the shallow water during a game of Marco Polo. 

  His voice low and velvety when he answered. Your eyes pinched shut as you reached for him and he closed his fingers between yours. 

  “Got ya,” you whisper, opening your eyes and seeing Eddie staring down into your face. Small freckles dot his nose and upper cheeks from the day in the sun, “you lose.” 

  Eddie’s playfulness is gone, he’s all serious behind the depth of his coal eyes, “you sure about that, babe?” 

  “Is that a thing of yours? Pet names for all the girls?” you tease. 

  His eyes soften and his thumb traces your chin, “and if it was?” 

  The sun is behind his head like a halo, and god he looks like a fallen angel. 

  Your tongue darts out to wet your lower lip, the astringent taste of chlorine bitter on your tongue.  Eddie’s eyes follow, and you see the silver jewelry again in his mouth when he repeats your actions. 

  The thought of that steel ball hugging and sweeping against your lips make you shiver. 

  Before you can answer him, all the lifeguards blow their whistles and announce the pool is closing. 

  But Eddie doesn’t budge and neither do you. His thumb sweeps against your cheek and you buckle under his touch. 

  “Hey assholes!” A loud booming voice full of too much testosterone and choked balls from the worlds tightest swim trunks echoes across the concrete pool, “we’re closed, get the fuck out!” 

  Eddie rolls his eyes up at the mullet wearing douche, and plants his hands on the edge of the pool, jumping out. Water splashes around his feet as he extends a grin and a large hand down to you, “c’mon princess, i’ll walk you home.” 

[weebsinstash]

Hi I’ve been watching Hazbin Hotel and I found your blog which is amazing by the way , and I was wondering what are your thoughts on yandere Alastor ?

Thanks babe! ^^ so i was discussing this with someone recently and, to avoid doing that thing where I have too any concepts on the same post, I'm going to stick with a specific idea I've had of him recently which I will call "canon accurate yandere Alastor"

imma be honest and say this version would fucking suck depending on your preferences because he

-doesn't love you romantically and doesn't let YOU date

-doesn't wanna fuck you either AND DOESN'T LET YOU FUCK ANYONE ELSE EITHER

-probably does not consider you an equal by any means, like he considers you a good friend and you're charming and lovely and whatever, but he sees you like.... you'd be puking into a trashcan and he's the one holding your hair back, "now see my dear, this is why you shouldn't go out drinking without a proper escort~" like there's a vague layer of condescension and there's a huge massive power balance and experience balance between you two

Like. He's. He's kind of condescendingly cunty to you, he's vaguely looking at you with the energy of "MacKenzie oh my gosh MacKenzie you're so drunk, you're wasted, oh my god let me drive you home, no girl I'm taking your keys, you're too--" like do you get what I mean? He's a traditional gentleman and he comes along and uh, he thinks he sees this raw potential and charm inside of you that he thinks is being wasted by your modern lifestyle which can literally include

- your diet

-your tech use or what you use from day to day

- how you dress

-how you TALK

-how you spend your time

-who you hang out with

Just picture he meets you, you catch his eye, maybe you're at the hotel, and he's entertained by your sarcastic witty replies to his antics that maybe even get a chuckle out of him. You're a spitfire and he likes that!

.... and then the next time he sees you you're like vaping weed from a pen, looking at him with half lidded eyes, playing a game on your phone, too scattered to fully hold a conversation with him, to focus, to be as entertaining to him as before, and he's grinding the teeth in his smile, "oh no, this won't do at all", especially when he sees negative affects such maybe you're watching things he doesn't approve of or you're being harassed idk

I feel like since Alastor canonically drinks and is quite a heavyweight apparently, he wouldn't mind his darling drinking, but he would definitely control how much after a while. If you get too wasted in front of him too many times, he'll completely cut you off. Folks are you aware that getting too drunk can cause an alcohol induced panic attack that can literally take away your ability to move your hands and arms and make your mouth numb. I found this out recently :) whoops. And I feel like Alastor sees that shit and you'd have to EARN HIS TRUST for him to let you drink again and uh, I don't think that's possible

You're kind of like a bestie but you're also like a toy he's playing with and he doesn't like to share. He'll drag you away from doing other things with other people, especially if he doesn't approve of what you're doing and or with whom. He basically views you dating other people as lowering yourself to people who are beneath you and would only want you to give yourself to someone who deserves you, and he doesn't think ANYONE deserves you except him, and he DOESNT LIKE YOU THAT WAY so the man is just like FORCING CELIBACY ON YOU. Like have you ever seen videos of people taking their domesticated lovely groomed pets outdoors and like a stray or even wild animal version of it comes along to. Hump. And the owner is freaking out, "get the fuck AWAY I don't know where you've been" or at least Should? THAT'S Alastor watching 'other people trying to predate upon you' aka YOU trying to get laid or date

You'll be cooking something and he'll come up and try some without asking, "Hah! This is terrible!" and either watch you so he can tell you what he thinks you did wrong once the dish is finished or he takes over and asserts that he wants to show you to do it "the proper way!" and if you're female he potentially inserts a comment about how as a lovely lady you should know your way around a kitchen (in like a positive "I'll show you so you can know for yourself" way but like the underlying misogyny is there lol)

He'll take you out drinking and dancing but don't you dare let him catch you throwing it back or being mildly sexual, or he'll immediately tell you you've had too much to drink and take you home and you two spend the rest of the night like drinking tea listening to the radio, reading books, or watching old timey TV.

Lastly... I can absolutely see Alastor making some kind of deal with his darling for their soul. He CAN do that (and I think technically anyone in Hell can deal with souls, it's apparently part of the becoming an Overlord process). But I can just see him taking his darling's soul in exchange for anything, it might be really small, it might be really important, but he sees it as safeguarding your beautiful lovely little soul from anyone else who might take it. It truly is like THE HIGHEST FORM OF OWNING YOU, CONTROLLING YOU. It's all according to whatever is in the deal, but I'm sure there's other basic caveats you get... like him being able to summon you at will if you agree to it so he's randomly yanking you away from other people or tracking you when he doesn't know when you are.... or restraining you so you stop running away from him and running out on the town to act so... vulgar

[your-nanas-house]

Tighter than usual

◇ Pairing: Stepdad!Jackson Rippner X stepdaughter!Reader

◇ Warnings: smut, cheating, thigh fucking, p in v, Jackson, rough and dark

◇ Summary: Jackson searches satisfaction after a wet dream.

◇ Note: Came up with this idea yesterday and my lovely @mrkdvidal1989 helped me so much! Another amazing collaboration, enjoy!

Quietly opening the door, Jackson slipped inside without a sound. Whole house was dark, as his wife and Y/n were already sleeping. He was tired, hungry and completely drained. 

It wasn't surprising how late he was coming home, both his wife and step daughter knew how demanding his work was. 

Quietly making his way up the stairs after locking the door, he passed by Y/n’s room, glancing inside to see if everyone was okay.

The twenty year old was sleeping, as always at that time of the night, covered head to toe with her heavy, fluffy blanket, peacefully breathing. 

After seeing it, Jackson didn't wait any longer before heading straight to the bathroom for a quick shower, and less than fifteen minutes later he was finally in bed. The coziness and warmth overtaking him in seconds before he fell into a deep sleep.

”Fuck” Jackson murmured as he woke up covered with a thin layer of sweat, his whole body hot after the wet dream he had. A low groan leaving his lips as he reached under the blanket, feeling the rock hard erection that formed between his legs. 

Hard, hot and aching under the slightest touch, he knew that it wasn't an option to go to sleep with that. Huffing with how incredibly warm and aroused he felt, Jackson's hand wrapped around his thick member stroking it for a moment before he let go. The sensation of his own fingers wasn't enough in any way. 

Turning his head, he noticed the beautiful woman laying by his side, facing away. Her hair resting messily on the pillow as she slept rolled in a little ball. It's been so long since the last time they had sex, Jackson thought with sadness mixed with annoyance. 

Throb of his cock only deepening the despair, as he scooted closer. 

His big hand moves slowly on her body, his breath getting heavier as he stroked slowly her calf… feeling her soft skin while moving his calloused fingers up slowly, following the line of her bare, long leg.

His face moved closer to the back of her neck, allowing him to bury it in her hair.. taking a long sniff of her scent before groaning softly, getting more impatient with each second passing.

His hips moved involuntarily forward, making him find a bit of the friction he craved as his hands moved up the silky tank top she was wearing. So that he could stroke her bare hips before grabbing them.. his cock rubbing against the fabric of his boxers in an almost teasing way. He needed more… he deserved more, he thought as the frustration and anger started to grow in his body, making him quicken his movements. 

Pulling down his underwear freeing his cock from the boxers that grew too tight, too soon. 

Jackson's lips leaving wet kisses on her soft, smooth skin, his breath getting heavier and heavier at the thought of just taking what he wanted.. no, deserved. She smelled of.. a sweet, fruity scent that made his eyes roll in the back of his head, heart pounding in his chest at the burning list rushing through his veins. 

It was his wife’s duty to take care of his needs anyway so he could just slip it in her pussy while she kept sleeping, right? It's not like it would be the first time he did it. 

His bare chest kept moving up and down quickly, his chest hair tickling the woman’s back as his hips pressed harder against her round ass, making him groan softly breathless, his big hand flat against her tummy before he decided to pull carefully down the clothes that were covering her lower half.

His callous hand kneading his flesh of her butt, his breath caressing the shell of her ear 

“Fuck, honey” Jackson growled softly, smirking against the soft skin of her neck “Someone went to the gym, huh? This round ass of yours wasn’t that firm from what I remember” he praised softly, nibbling on her skin, getting more eager and horny. It was true, her body felt.. more firm. Sexier than the last time he had the opportunity to feel it well. 

It wasn't really surprising looking at how they just kept arguing all the time, the last time they slept together over six months ago. 

“Yeah..” he hummed, grinding his bare, leaking cock between her ass cheeks as he stretched to grab the lube from the bedside table. His bottom lip caged between his white teeth as he kept moving his hips. We don’t need a condom, do we, honey? He thought, glancing at the still sleeping woman, his chest pressed back against her back as he spreaded the lube on his cock, pumping it a couple of times before thrusting it between her clothed thighs. No, we don’t.. bet you won’t mind, he thought again as his eyes rolled back and his mouth dropped slightly. Remembering all the arguments she caused lately, acting ungrateful and rude towards her hardworking husband, Jackson bared his teeth involuntarily as anger filled his veins. 

He deserved to take her. Now and anytime.

His hips moved on their own as his hand kept her bare thighs together “Such a good, little slut” he murmured, increasing the speed after he checked that the woman was still asleep. 

His eyes narrowing softly as the thoughts kept spinning and occupying his mind, anger was now boiling in him as his hips increased the pace, making his skin slap against hers. His legs pressing her own down into the mattress, keeping her in place, angled the way he wished. 

That's the least she can do, he thought with arrogance, stay fucking put.

He couldn’t hold it any longer, the need to be inside of her completely overwhelming his senses. So completely lost in his pleasure he grabbed his cock, squeezing it in his fist lightly as his eyes fell shut for a moment, before moving her a bit. After making her change her position to allow him to press his thick cock at her entrance, Jackson's eyes widened feeling how wet she was in her sleep.

Someone had a wet dream too, huh? He thought with a grin. 

He didn't budge or planned to give her an easy time after waiting for several months. Mercilessly thrusting it completely at once, despite remembering how she always struggled to take him. 

His hips smacking her ass harshly “Nu, no spankies, daddy” a soft tired and breathless voice murmured, followed by a whine as his pubic bone kept slapping against her ass, his aching dick inside of the tight warm pussy, burying deeper and deeper with each stroke until finally, he nestled balls deep inside her for a moment, breathing deeply. Jackson didn't remember her being so.. tight. The sudden squeeze on his cock made him have to breathe a couple seconds to ensure he wouldn't cum right away.

“Daddy—” the voice repeated in a whine, squeezing him with her slick, hot walls as never before.

His incredibly bright eyes snapping open as soon as his brain registered whose voice it was, his hips continuing to thrusts in an animalistic pace. Fuck, he thought, stretching his body to go deeper inside of the warm cunt. His jaw dropping open in a silent groan when his hands grabbed his stepdaughter’s breasts from under her silky tank top.

“Fuck, baby.. shhh, everything is all right, go back to sleep.” he murmured, not stopping his assault at her cunt “Such a good girl, yes?” he praised, holding her closer as he increased the speed, listening to her soft moans and whimper.

Jackson wished he could stop, but the lack of pleasure for the last months made him go absolutely feral at the sensation of a tight pussy relentlessly squeezing him and sucking him right back in every time he'd pull back.

Y/n tried to look at him, turning her head to the side, but he didn't let her. Grabbing her jaw with his right hand, he squeezed it tightly keeping her head in place, panting right by her ear, his hot breath hitting the skin on her neck.

”Shouldn’t have come here dressed like that.” He hissed, hearing the whimpers pushing past her lips with each thrust. Jackson's hips had their own mind, picking up a fast rhythm, fucking her hard and without any intention of stopping despite knowing how wrong it was. 

“Where’s your mother?” he rasped out, groaning animalistically in the crook of her neck. It felt so.. forbidden for the both of them. 

Jackson couldn't help but let the little thought blossom in his mind, after getting neglected by his wife for so long. 

Revenge sounded pretty good to him, especially if it consisted in exploring and finding pleasure by using the young body that aroused him since the first time he saw her.

”She.. She..” Y/n attempted to respond, his fingers pressing on her neck a little too tightly to speak freely. ”She went to.. the club.” She managed to stutter out, followed by cries and loud moans as Jackson sped up, hitting her pussy harder than before as anger grew even more. 

“Of course, she went” he spat, clenching his jaw in annoyance and anger “Fucking whore” he insulted his wife, holding Y/n’s throat to keep her in position as his hips smacked against her red butt “But you are better, aren’t you?” He whispered, breathing deeply, inhaling her sweet scent again. 

Jackson leaned in closer, his wet lips grazing over her neck, a little above his hand. ”You’re not a whore like your mother, eh?” he breathed out, making her whine as his thick cock brushed her sweet spot “You’re a good girl, right, sweetheart?” His low voice praised her as Jackson's moves became more sloppy, more careless as he started feeling his climax getting closer and closer, tension in his lower stomach getting stronger with each thrust.

“Fuck, fuck—” he cursed, inhaling sharply… her scent getting him, making him feel surrounded and dizzy for a moment, till he suddenly felt a grip on his balls, her soft hand caressing them, causing him to finally shoot his load inside of her with a low groan.

“Fucking naughty thing” he rasped in her ear, making her giggle cutely that brought a small smile on his face. A smile that dropped as soon as her smaller hands moved his big one on her lower tummy “Will be a mommy now… mommy of your babies” she teased, holding back a smile as she felt his whole body tense, his hand gripping slightly the flesh of her tummy.

“W-what?” he murmured as thoughts ran inside of his head. 

Jackson was completely frozen as his brain started working again, no longer clouded with lust.

Y/n shut her eyes, feeling that he didn't soften inside her yet.. but rather twitched again. 

With a high pitched whine she started moving her hips while rubbing her clit, not wanting to be left without orgasm.

Jackson let out a choked breath, shocked with her previous statement as she kept moving, impaling herself on his still hard cock.

“Y/n..” He breathed out, holding her hips, but it didn't take long before she came, spasming and shaking for a couple minutes.

As soon as her orgasm subsided, Y/n breathed out with a giggle, turning back to face him. A mischievous smile on her face before he pecked his lips, turning back around.

“No worries, daddy, I'm on a pill.” 

Taglist:

@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj @wife-of-magic-monkeys , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher , @sleepycreativewriter , @mrkdvidal1989

[girlbossblackbeard]

THOUGHTS AND LAYERS

i spent literally an hour analyzing this trailer at 0.5 speed. this post is long af and these thoughts are in no particular order and are poorly organized:

-there's a big storm (which I think was already confirmed), and ed gets swept overboard by a bucket on a rope:

he then crawls up out of the water onto the beach

then goes into the forest, creates a hut, has a journey of healing and self-discovery, meets hornigold (or his ghost??)

and kills him thus killing the part of himself that he hated the most (his violence) as a parallel to stede finally getting rid of nigel's ghost by accepting and believing in himself

-in the stede/ed split screen, the stede shot is from the first ep of s2 right after stede finds the marooned crew at the end of ep 10 in s1 (you can tell bc his hair and clothes are still clean, there's no gay bandana around his neck, and that's his lil dinghy buttons is rowing)

-they go to shore and wind up at the merchants shop where "susan" overhears they're tracking down blackbeard

and she invites stede's crew onto her ship, cue the outfit change in the BTS photos:

-the way stede makes that little swishy turn in the red coat -

makes me think this may be first time he's been in fine clothes since his "death" and i hope we get a moment of him reflecting on how he gave up everything for ed only to have him hate him :( but then obviously realizing that ed is worth it and he'd do it all again in a heartbeat if it meant getting a chance at spending the rest of his life with him

-izzy and stede team up, and izzy is clearly training either himself or stede on the revenge (?)

soooooo many questions: what caused him to leave ed and join stede's crew? is he fighting with ed and is training to take him out or is he just done having his love be unrequited so he leaves and just so happens to stumble into stede? is izzy thinking that if he can't cut out the longing he has for ed he has to kill him instead so the pain will go away? what, pray tell, the fuck is going on in here on this day

-wee john in the mermaid costume (and olu in a bunny or donkey costume?):

a fuckery? or just a weird acid trip? OR IS IT THE TALENT SHOW THEY NEVER GOT TO HAVE??

-ed really does force everyone on his crew to wear war paint

-all the tally marks scratched into the walls - is that the number of days since stede bonnet broke ed's heart?

-ed in the forest in PEARL NECKLACE HELLOW????????

-the tear in ed's eye as he moves the cake toppers closer together which he also painted to make the lady look more like him he literlaly is in love wiht stede so bad wht the FUCJ

-ed's crew is murdering SO MANY PEOPLE at the wedding wtf (pic not included bc scary)

-delusional moment but i hope anne bonny on stede's lap is looking at calico jack off screen

-stede and ed are running towards each other on the black sand beach (thank you @sluterastede for pointing this out to me wtf!!!!!!)

which evolves my theory that ed in the forest goes through his healing journey and realizes he wants to openly love stede again but then the navy attack and stede just so happens to have found ed at the same time and they're fighting to get to each other and taking out everyone in their way (what if that was okracoke lmao)

-the swede and spanish jackie hooking up in the trailer

makes me think the bts shot of ed and jackie is them looking at stede and the swede, and ed being SO in love with stede obvi but jackie is watching the swede do some weirdly hot shit so she's gotta have him (what if they got married and he became her umpteenth husband in a drunken vegas-like shotgun wedding where she wakes up the next day to realize what has happened lmao)

-also this pic is DEF from the reunited/make up era bc ed's half-up hair, no makeup, soft eyes, and buttons' clothing. i am weeping

-stede in pain - is it an injury or a tattoo? or torture as @sluterastede posits?? he looks down at his lower body before screaming so maybe he knows what's about to happen to him??

-ed in the forest wearing the pearl necklace (see above), ed saying "fuck you stede bonnet" wearing the pearl necklace (see below)

does he pick it up at the wedding??? (theory credit to @sluterastede!!!! can u tell we watched the trailer together 400 times) i can't tell if he's wearing it in the one wide shot of him in that scene:

but regardless of when he acquires it, does he take it bc he remembers stede said he wears fine things well???? and he starts to believe he may deserve them??

-side note about a LACK of something: ed isn't wearing the cravat at all in the trailer near as i can tell, and he's not wearing the pearl necklace when throwing knives at the wall (at least from what I can see, which is not much) which leads me to believe that scene is in the earlier part of the season

-lastly, the most important song lyrics from the trailer (the beautiful ones by prince):

and that's my dissertation on the ofmd season 2 teaser trailer thank you