#chest nuts matching

[thomasdaniel91]

Chest Nuts Matching Chestnuts Christmas Couples T-Shirt

Get yours now: https://viralstyle.com/c/y0v3xK

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[johnnydany]

Chest Nuts Christmas T-Shirt Matching Couple Chestnuts T-Shirt

Click here to order now: https://great-family-t-shirt-gifts.creator-spring.com/listing/chest-nuts-christmas-tshirt

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[postmakerkiwi]

🌕 Starlit Fracture Hills - Potion Cellar 🐖

The Alchemist's workshop is located on the lower level of the land, just outside the lava field's reach, meaning it's been surrounded by Earthshapers ever since they first showed up. Though judging by the sounds coming from there, it doesn't seem like this has done anything to deter his work.

photo via GameFAQs

[satorena]

❝ 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐄 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐘 𝐎𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐀 ! ❞

꒰ FEATURING ! ꒱. g. satoru, f. toji, g. suguru, n. kento x afab!reader

꒰ CONTENT WARNINGS ! ꒱. cybersex, camgirl!reader, facetiming, onlyfans account, dirty talking, usage of toys, reader wears lingerie, fingering, anal play, consented video taping, feminine pet names, let’s pretend toji has money okay? okay.

RENA’S NOTE. big shoutout to my dawgs @screampied ! would’ve suffered a bad writer’s block if not for them <3 ly pooks

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

“yeah baby~ fuck, arch your back just like that—shit!”

you complied to his request, moaning as you arch your back and push your hips backwards, deepening the angle of which your dildo penetrated inside of you.

from your facetime call, you faced the camera and propped your dildo to the wall behind you. you watched as your ass recoiled like waves, flesh bouncing off the wall in hypnotic motions, giving your boyfriend the pov he demanded at the start of this call.

you watched through your laptop screen as your boyfriend held his cock tightly with one hand, his other hand propped at the back of his head. his stomach clenched tightly as he matched your pace with his jerks. your wet squelches filled the atmosphere followed by your moans, arms stretched out to claw at the silk sheets on your bed.

“mmh—fuck baby, wish you were h-here right now,” you whine, bringing your fingertips to your lolled out tongue, coating the digits with your saliva, before slipping them between your thighs to focus on your neglected clit.

drawing figure eights to the bundle of nerves, your cheek smushed against the mattress, face heating and tears streaking down your cheeks.

bottom lip tucked in his teeth, gojo narrows his cerulean eyes to zero in on your figure, the sounds of your creamy pussy rocking back and forth on your dildo, your teary eyes watching him with such want— and fuck if he doesn’t wish this conference meeting overseas would end so he could blow your back out.

“i know, ‘m sorry— hah, princess,” he whines, thumbing his leaking slit as the hand behind his hair starts to grip at his own locks. the stinging feeling reminded him of you and it only turned him on further.

“just a f—few more days, yeah? and i’m all yours, promise baby, wait out for me,” he prods further, upset at the fact he has to reach out to you virtually. even behind the low quality of your camera, you shone like an angel sent from heaven, lashes wet with tears and your lips glistening from your smeared gloss.

you nod your head, before fluttering your eyes close as your gut begins to coil. your limbs grow hot and limp, toes curling and you up the pace of your rocking, the drag of the customized silicone dildo against your velvety walls stretching you in ways that reminded you an awful lot of your boyfriend.

“toru—fuck, i’m cumming!” you arch your back deeper, chest pressed flat against the mattress, fingernails scratching the softness of your sheets.

gojo had been on the brink of an orgasm eons ago, but he held back for you. to him, nothing beat busting a nut at the same time you did. his snowy white hair matted to his forehead, cheeks flushed a pretty red as he now focuses on his stiff cock with two firm hands.

he mimics circular motions you usually do, fighting to keep his eyes open as his orgasm washes over him just from the sight of your cries alone. your body shudders, your own orgasm washing over you from head to toe as you mewl out his name, spraying your juices all over the wall behind you and down your plush thighs.

your back arches outwards and you’re drooling all over yourself but gojo doesn’t think he’s seen anything prettier in his entire life.

“shit—oh fuck, cum for me princess, make a mess all over—ngh, yourself for me—my perfect fuckin’ girl.”

𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

“welcome back everyone~”

there was something terribly sinful in the way the girl currently clothed in skimpy lingerie, fingers rubbing at her pussy in lazy circles with a dildo to her lips, tip of the toy teasingly grazing at her pink tongue—was also the same girl toji paid money to babysit his kid whenever he was away at work.

toji was no good man. this was definitely wrong on many personal levels, but alas he was still a man, if the way his dick hardened painfully quick at the sound of your honeyed voice alone.

he shifts in his chair, leaning back into it as he palms his hard on through his sweats. he watches with narrowed green orbs as you finally swallow the silicone toy down your throat, the dildo lubed in your saliva whenever it came out of contact from your mouth.

“wishin’ it was your fat cock instead, mmh,” you swirl your tongue around the dildo, before arriving to the tip and latching your plump lips around it.

you simultaneously increase the speed at your folds, fingers soon growing sticky with your essence as the obscene wetness fills the room. you moan around the toy, spreading your lips for the camera while clenching around nothing.

dick long freed from his pants and tucked tightly in his fist, toji groans as he watches your pretty pussy flutter and basically beg for him to fill you up. he hacks up some spit and drips it down on his girthy length, before roughly going back to jerking at his dick.

“i wonder which one of my lucky viewers is gonna get to fuck me next live?” you breathlessly giggle, before lowering the dildo in your free hand to your gaping cunt.

your comments flood with praises and pleasantries, with money flowing in easily—anything to capture your attention and have you notice them. they’re desperate, toji thinks, but realizes he’s definitely no better—hands already moving to donate a much bigger sum than whatever pussydestroyer69 could ever offer you.

“ooh, four bills is a hefty amount,” you tilt your head to the side, your pretty lips stretched in a perfect smile. you giggle when the comments start to insult toji but he’s too far enamoured in the way your free hand now travelled to your breast, groping at the mounds and flicking at your stiff buds.

you return to the regular programming, pressing the tip of your dildo to your cunt, dragging it up and down your wet folds, teasing yourself with your legs spread open for the viewers to see.

“fuck— this feels amazing, mmh, ‘m sooo sensitive,” you whine, applying a small amount of pressure to slightly push the tip in but pull it back out.

this was torturous— your thong pushed to the side to reveal your puffy lips as it leaked your essence. toji let his mind run to how badly he wanted to taste you. he was sure you’d be as sweet as honey, a potent taste on his tongue, and the thought of you face down with your ass up, begging for him to eat you out had his balls tightening with eagerness.

“fuckin’ shit— what a tease.” toji grunts, throwing his head back as he rubs the callouses at his palms against his veiny skin. his hips jerked up in anticipation, feeling his limbs run hot while his thumb circled at his reddened tip.

“y’wanna fuck my gaping pussy? yeah, ‘m all wet and tight just for you— hnng, bet i’d have you cumming quicker than you ever had~” you taunt, and finally push the toy all the way in, moaning at the stretch of the toy at your pussy.

your toes curl and you tighten your hold at your tits, slowly thrusting the dildo in and out of your cunt, the slick sound of the friction enticing toji as he matches your pace, fanged teeth biting down at his bottom lip.

you pout your bottom lip, small whines escaping your throat as you fuck yourself desperately. “feels’good— shit, need you to fuck me daddy!”

call him delusional but he felt you spoke to him and not the rest of these bums, legs opened and pussy clenching down at the dripping toy, as your hips rocked upwards to try and meet the dildo for further pleasure.

the telltale of his dick twitching uncontrollably told he was on the brink of an orgasm, one that has him cursing incessantly and brings sweat to his hairline. he pries his eyes open, refusing to miss out on how your folds get abused by yourself, multitasking between thrusting inside and attacking your clit.

“‘m gonna cum daddy—please lemme cum—ngh!” you plead, and as if some force between the two of you is pulled, you spray your essence all over yourself, slick dripping down your sheets and wetting your lingerie, staining your panties soaked as toji calls out your name, hips bucking into his tight fist as ropes of hot cum are pulled out of him.

“there we go baby—damn, keep creamin’ just like that.”

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

“c’mon mama—don’t you let up, fuck, keep bouncin’ f’me.”

you whined some more, thighs aching and trembling from your consistent riding mixed with the added stimulation to your rim from your gifted anal plug. behind you was geto’s set up, computer camera propped as your back faced it, with geto seated at the edge of the bed.

hands planted firmly onto his chest, you stabilized yourself as you continued to rock your hips, dragging yourself up and down on his inches of dick, feeling his hardness stretch out your walls.

“sugu, ‘s too much— shit, want you to fuck me already!” you moaned, leaning your head downward to his broad shoulders, forehead slippery with sweat.

geto chuckled at your neediness, clicking his tongue as he lands a firm slap to your reddened ass. you all but moaned, hips moving back and forth as you clenched your mounds around his cock.

“but baby,” geto complains mockingly, slipping his hand in between your bodies and thumbing at your swollen clit. “y’wouldn’t wanna disappoint your fans, would ya?”

as he spoke, he glanced over your shoulder to check the comment section, as it was filled with numerous donations, praises as well as degradations. the more his viewers donated money to him, the quicker the toy plugged in your ass vibrated.

the triple stimulation had your brain gone to mush, your golden spot brutally toyed with as the foreign but pleasurable feeling in your puckered hole stretched it out, added with the circles at your bundle of nerves, sending shivers all throughout your body.

“uhn uhn,” you shake your head, all but against the idea of ruining his live stream simply because you were tired. more than anything, you wanted to cum, even if it had been in the most torturous way you could think of.

“that’s my good girl,” geto presses his lips at the crane of your head. his praise sends tingles in your belly, core licking with heat. his hands find their way to your ass cheeks, groping the soft mounds as encouragement, the actions causing a shift in the toy to be pushed slightly deeper inside of you.

“f-fuck—don’t do that, i’ll cum!” you complain, arching your chest into his, sensitive nipples brushing into his own.

the creamy mess at the base of his cock clearly accessible to the viewers sent a massive amount of money right into geto’s account and straight to your ass, as you jolted into his hold, clinging your arms around his neck.

“holy shit—one thousand?” geto asks breathlessly, followed by immediate more pinging indicating more donations. “you’re a hit baby—they fuckin’ love this pussy. too bad it’s all fuckin’ mine though, hah,”

you’re flattered by it all, and hit with a final wave of confidence before you’re sure the dam in your gut will snap, you push him back to lay on his bed. geto watches you with a cocked brow and smug smile, baby hairs messily framing his flushed skin.

“oh?” he asks, amused by the sudden turn of events. he never lets go of your hips, instead tightening his hold on you as you plant your feet to the mattress.

you hop up and down, his dick nearly slipping by how far up you rode him, with your palms pressed against the plane of his abs. feeling tears build up at your lash line, you moan and wail, dick penetrating deep into your cunt deliciously.

“fuckin’ ride this dick, ‘s all yours mama—shit, gonna make me cum all inside that pretty pussy, mmh. give it all t’me,”

it doesn’t take much between his constant praising, the slickness of your wetness around his cock and the additional vibrations to your ass to have you cumming hard around him. you clamp your walls down, momentarily pausing your riding as you let it take over your entire body.

geto comes through, hips bucking upwards to further your orgasm and you’re sure you momentarily blacked out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your tongue lolls out of your mouth.

“what a pretty fuckin’ face baby, all mine. goddamn, ‘s too bad your biggest fan won’t get to see it— ain’t that right, satoru?”

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

“k-kento—oh fuck daddy, ‘s so fucking deep!”

his wrist ached as he worked his way up and down his cock, tip throbbing an angry red. he watched himself hold your waist with one grip of his hand, the other propped up to film the lewd scenery, capturing you in all your glory.

nanami maintained a steady focus, pistonning into your cunt at a ruthless pace, a ruthless angle, and judging by the sound of your broken moans, he was thrusting into that spot that had you seeing stars and slurring your words.

on the screen showed you face down with your ass up, hands bind by his tie behind your back, face planted into his bed as he fucked into you passionately. your pussy gripped onto his cock greedily, sucking him in as the ripples of your ass bounced on his pelvis.

“my perfect girl, fuck, keep taking it just like that.” his large hand held at your waist firmly, bottoming out just to pull out all the way to where your lips latched at his tip, coating his dick in your creamy essence.

his hand made it to the top of his shaft, and when the screen presented him an erotic view of both your body fluids— semen, juices, sweat— sticking between both your damp skin, where you lowered yourself on his cock and where he pushed forward to fasten the process, his thumb grazed over his slit tauntingly, the same way he’s seen you done it dozens of times.

it’d never occur to him that watching himself plow into you would turn him on so, but you were so far away and he was immensely turned on.

his button down now unbuttoned, his chest heaved up and down as he panted heavily, sliding his other hand down to cup at his balls, the way you’ve done to him so many times. he winces at the feeling, dick painfully hard as it twitches in his hold.

“holy fuck— my perfect fuckin’ girl, shit.” he groans, narrowing his eyes to focus on the hypnotic sight that had his erection crying impossibly further.

the sight of you unable to do anything but take his dick like the slut you were made to be for him had him curling his feet and thighs tremble rather quickly. your fingers twitched as you begged him to free you, to let you touch him, but all that resorted to was your ass getting slapped for your disobedience.

“behave princess.” nanami warned you while rubbing his hand at the reddened skin, and you whined a ‘m so sorry daddy but obeyed nonetheless, and whatever kink triggered in nanami activated, as he jerked off faster, desperate to chase that release.

in the video, nanami pulled his dick out momentarily, causing you to cry out at your pussy’s emptiness. lowering the camera to your abused cunt, your pink walls gaped and clenched around nothing, practically calling out for him to fill the void. he chuckles behind his phone, before grabbing at his cock and lining himself at your entrance, teasing your folds by dragging his tip up and down before bottoming out again.

“fuckin’ hell, i need you right now,” nanami cussed, wanting nothing more than to feel your warmth around his cock instead of his own hand, to feel you clamp and suck him into your pussy, to have you squirt on his cock and still beg him for more despite your sensitivity.

between the pornographic sight of your cunt clenching down on his cock, your asshole winking at him, the recoil of your ass onto him and the sinful arch of your back, nanami soon painted his fist white in his cum, head thrown back as he was overtaken by an orgasm.

“damn it—shit, just like that princess—keep gripping onto me, gonna fill that pretty pussy full of my cum.”

yes, gojo was the generous donator on geto’s live stream. pervert

[arminsumi]

THE HORNIEST

↳ GOJO さとる + fem!reader

Summary : Horny!Gojo needs you so bad, he's insatiable. A menace.

Warnings : minors do not read/interact : smut/explicit content, it's very horny lol, not proofread, c*mshots and creampies, unprotected sex, multiple rounds, implied drunk sex

Note : lmk if you want more horny gojo lol 👍 reqs open!! anyways lol the title cracks me up. he ain't the strongest he's the horniest :(

Horny!Gojo introduces himself to you in the flirtiest way possible, cooing a sweet and drunk "Who invited the goddess?" into your ear. He's sat on the couch with you, one night at a stupid frat party. Starstruck by you. And your reciprocation made his chest feel fluttery for the first time in years. It also made his dick stand up in his pants.

Horny!Gojo leans into you for the whole night, whispering flirty things and dirty jokes into your ear like his mind is a factory pumping them out. You match his playful energy so well, he says "I think we're made for each other."

Horny!Gojo has his sharp eyes wandering to your thighs, then your shoulders, then your lips as you speak — and he licks his lips to wet them.

Horny!Gojo showers you in compliment after compliment, relishing in your reactions and getting greedier; he needs to get you alone. "Wanna go someplace quieter?" he has to shout over the music to ask you.

Horny!Gojo assures you with cocky confidence, "Yeah, I could make you cum. Aw, don't give me that eyeroll, it's turning me on. I know for a fucking fact I could make you cum. I could make those eyes roll back. I could make your legs shake."

Horny!Gojo squeezes your hand tightly when he leads you upstairs, and giggles with you as the two of you escape into a quiet, empty bedroom. His heart is panging so hard in his chest. His body feels electric. He's so horny it's the only thing he can focus on.

Horny!Gojo whimpers when you crash your lips into his. He starts making out wildly with you like he's a sex-deprived loser. Because he is. A sex-deprived, touch-starved college boy.

Horny!Gojo hits those deep, hard strokes with no breaks just to destroy you. He never lets up. Never stops to have a breather or lets you catch your own breath. "Working up a sweat b—abyyy? Too much dick stuffing your little cunt? Yeah? Is it too much? Too big? Too deep? Fuck, you're gonna squeeze my dick off, haha, calm down. It's just a little dirty talk."

Horny!Gojo murmurs into your ear, "All I wanna do is make you finish over and over again." desperation and conviction in his voice. He really just wanted to fuck you into bliss, have you dumb on his fat cock, have you squirming and whimpering and going feral for him.

Horny!Gojo pins you down like a beast but also pounds into you like he's the bitch in heat. "Oh my god oh my god yes yes yes fuck fuck fuck fuck fuckkkk that pussy's so fuckin' gooooodddd" he's a mess, just swearing and moaning like a broken record.

Horny!Gojo almost sobs your name into your mouth when he cums, draining every drop of cum that he's worked up for you in the past hour.

Horny!Gojo turns his creampies into whipped cream with his thrusts, smacking his hips so hard into you that you feel his balls slap against your ass. They're so heavy and full, makes you think that if you weren't on birth control you'd definitely get knocked up with just one of his fat nuts.

Horny!Gojo goes round after round, becoming a melting sweaty mess of a man and feeling his muscles tire out. He pins you to the bed with his whole weight, and gives you his all just to show off a little.

Horny!Gojo has such a strained but enthusiastic voice after fucking you into next year with his dick. "Wow... that pussy's so fucking creamy." he grins toothily. A sweat drop beads off his cheek. His bangs are stuck messily to his forehead, some brushed to the side.

Horny!Gojo is insatiable, he calls you long after the party, over and over, shows up at your door and relishes in how his horniness rubs off on you. He's always a giggly mess in bed with you.

Horny!Gojo needs you so bad some days that he comes to you straight after his workout at the gym, no shower just sweaty gym boy abs, and fucks you as a way to "push his limits" for like three hours.

Horny!Gojo needs to cum everywhere he can. It's like he has a cumshot checklist. Thighs? Yes. Tummy? Yes. Ass? Yes. Chest? Yes. Face? Yes. Pussylips? Yes. Hands? Yes. In your panties? Yes.

Horny!Gojo is so fucking cute when he kisses you after sex, nuzzling your neck like a cat and telling you how good you treat him with that five star pussy.

Horny!Gojo jerks himself alone when you can't come over :( always to you, of course. Sexts like a menace. He's a bit too good at it.

Horny!Gojo gets so pussy drunk sometimes that he begs you to become his wife. His dick feels so raw and sensitive but he keeps squeezing it into that tight hole of yours.

Horny!Gojo is obsessed with you, mind body and soul. Just the sight of you and sound of you makes his dick stand up. And then he's whisking you off your feet and frantically throwing you onto the bed, and you're giggling at your horny boyfriend— oh... when did that happen? Hm. Well now he's your boyfriend.

© arminsumi

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

[keravnous]

diet mountain dew; john wick/fem!reader (smut, 18+)

dating john wick - the playlist

The Boogeyman is out to get you. Little does he know, that you too are willing to do quite a bunch of things just to stay alive.

warnings: blood, guns, knives, injuries, physical violence/fighting, assassination attempt; dub-con, rough sex, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (female receiving), choking, dirty talk, spanking, a lot of manhandling bc for the love of god he doesn't know how to be soft anymore, gun kink, knife kink, size kink, strength kink, squirting, body worship if you blink, is this hate-fucking? idk; john has a horse cock change my mind; john is in his 50s, the reader is in her 20s; set somewhere after the series i guess? (I refuse to accept he's dead); problematic family relationship as a plot device; let's all collectively ignore the fact that he would actually never touch another woman or even dare to catch the smallest of feelings again; john gets off on the violence

word count: 10,6 k

thank you mel for a) listening to my ramblings and b) reading a good chunk of the first third of this dumpster fire and still going nuts about it, kissies and thank you v for listening to my keanu ramblings without losing faith in me

You wonder, if praying will help you. Probably not.

The sound of carnage, screams and gunshots in the hallway abruptly stops. You hear the assailant's heavy footsteps echoing off the floorboards outside of your hotel room mere seconds before the door bursts open, flies out of its hinges and rattles to the ground, wood creaking and breaking, splinters flying everywhere.

There had been a hit out on you for two days and every single soldier in your father's militia was ready to defend your life with their own.

Literally. You can tell by the man entering your suite.

You can tell by just how much he is covered in blood. You can tell by the way it drips down his forehead and how it soaks his white shirt - even the soles of his shoes creak with it. You can tell by the way he is totally and utterly drenched in red red red, and because you are certain it is not his.

They literally gave their life for you. The thought hits you like a blow to the head. People have died because of you. Fathers, brothers, sons. You recall your last conversation with your own father. They want us dead, they put out a contract on us - you had never seen him so nervous, so disheveled. What does that mean - his anxiety had been washing over you in seeping hot waves, sending cold shivers down your spine. It means, I need you out of the house - now.

Nausea bubbles in your stomach as the man now approaches you, casually strolls into the suite with his finger on the trigger of the gun dangling from his hand and you stare back at him - a deer in the headlights, frozen by fear in the eyes of its deadly predator. One of your father's men jumps from his cover, fires a shot and gets hit back with one straight between his eyes. It happens so quickly, that you can't turn your head away. You see the bullet piercing his forehead, blood splattering as soon as it exits the skull on the other side. His head flies back a little, and then his body goes limp, slack, as he falls to the ground with a heavy thud.

You want to scream. You want to vomit. You want to run. But there is nowhere to run to, nowhere to hide from him.

There's only one soldier left with you in the suite now and he is hiding around the corner, near the bathroom. The stranger - the assassin, the killer - does not lower the gun again, and does not let his eyes stray from you as he carefully enters the room. You feel terribly exposed, dressed only in your negligée, not daring to move.

Now, that the dim light of the suite's living room strikes his face, you can finally see him, see the man who has come to end you. He is older than you, maybe nearly twice your age, with dark hair and even darker eyes, matching his black suit. Lean and athletic, chest heaving slightly with physical exhaustion. The Boogeyman.

You do not know who or what you had expected, what cruel and dreadful images your brain had conjured up in the past 48 hours - 48 frightful hours of being moved around from hideout to hideout by your father's men, not staying in one place longer than necessary - but it certainly was not that. Not him. He is a lot more handsome than his reputation has led on. Seeing him on the subway around rush hour you would have never suspected him to be in this business. He looks nice. And that is exactly what makes him dangerous.

You have heard his name before. Echoing from the walls. Baba Yaga. Whispered with both: fear and respect. The Boogeyman. Blurted out: like a curse or like a blessing. Mister Wick: like redemption, like damnation. Jonathan, the king's son walking the earth as the devil.

John. The sound of his name is oddly human - disturbingly human - for someone looking as calm and collected, focused and concentrated as he does right now, while being drenched in blood and pointing a gun at you.

You must have said his name out loud, because his eyebrows twitch irritatedly, a movement so quick you barely missed it - must've sound desperate too, then.

Vision zeroing in on the barrel of his gun, your hands clutch the sofa's edge. There is so much adrenaline pumping through your veins right now that it freezes your limbs, has your ears ringing. The only thing responding to your brain fully are your eyes, and they snap away from the gun and over to the remaining soldier. It's a quick look, not even a second, but the hitman seems to recognize it and - with near inhumane speed - flicks his gun, and fires two shots. Blood splatters against the white door as the shots pin the soldier's body against it, and is it finally drops to the ground heavily it leaves a nasty trail, all wet and sticky and red.

Could be you.

You want to scream, but your body does not belong to you anymore, does not respond to your commands. It is a desperate, cruel sound that leaves your throat instead as you flinch with the sound of the gun being fired.

"Let's make this quick" his voice is gravelly and rough, like he has seen a thousand grim things and the pain of it has etched its way into his throat, left a nasty mark on every tone that ever dared to cross after.

That is when your fight or flight suddenly kicks in. Well, more specifically, it kicks in while he is speaking, as he starts to swap the empty clip of his gun.

He underestimates you. Everyone does. Your father, your brother. The countless men lying dead littered across the hotel's 25th floor. It will be his mistake.

You latch forward, grabbing the vase from the coffee table in front of you. The weight of it in your hand drags you down.

With all the strength you can muster, which is quite a lot considering the massive amounts of adrenaline that are currently amping up your body - you throw it at him. It connects with his forehead sharply; a deep, irritated noise bursting from his throat as it crashes, splinters and falls to the floor.

You are braver, braver than you should be as your assault does not end there, your body pushing you forward, leaping over the table and crashing into his broad shoulders.

I will not die today

Body ramming into his, he stumbles, as your fist connects with his chin. You have only been partially trained in hand-to-hand combat, after pleading your brother for months until he eventually gave in. Sadly, he wasn't nearly as thorough and honest with it as he was training his drug dealer and gun runners. But now, it is the only thing you can rely on.

There is nothing else; no one else left alive in that building who might be able to help you. It is up to you. So, you might as well try.

And Oh, does desperation fire up your blood.

I will not die today

The diversion does not last long and he - John John John only human only human only human - grabs you by you waist hard, fingers digging into your flesh and into the expensive silk, before he slams your body into the ground. All air leaves your lungs with a dull sound erupting from your chest, just as pain blooms around your ribs.

You cough and he looks down at you, confusion making his brows twitch, before cold-hearted determination takes over once more. John aims his gun at you once more, pulls back the hammer and you do not even think about it, your leg rising as you kick against his hand. The shot misses, buries itself deep into the expensive carpet a few inches next to your skull. You have no time to do either: panic or sigh in relief; instead, you deliver him a kick to his stomach, fighting yourself back onto your feet, punching him straight in the face.

John grunts and grabs your wrist, but you see it coming and throw yourself into his wide frame, wrapping your other arm around his back and thus hooking it underneath his right shoulder, dislocating his arm and preventing him from aiming his gun at you. You claw onto him as he twists your arm close to his stomach, while you wrap your legs around him, making it harder for John to shake you off.

I will not die today

You kick and dig the heel of your foot into his thighs and the back of his knees and he grunts and buckles a little, but turns wild and relentless quicker than you can blink, throws the two of you into the next wall. You gasp sharply as your back connects with the large mirror, splinters digging into your back - not deep enough to actually cut skin, but it stings nonetheless, the impact making you dizzy.

Sharp pain shoots through your back and your neck, but you are not willing to give up yet, as raw energy and rage and desperation surges through your body - one of your legs coming loose and your knee hitting his stomach repeatedly, making John grunt in pain and you use your momentum to dig your hand deep into his back, holding onto him and then swirling out of the deadlock he has got you in, jumping his back like a monkey.

His gun clatters to the ground and for a split second, the room falls silent. Then, roaring like an animal gone wild, he grabs your calves and slams his back into the nearest wall, has you screaming with the impact. You can feel blood pouring from your nose, feel it trickling down your lips.

I will not die today

John is stronger than you are, so so much stronger - the apex predator: all muscle, unbreakable focus and the sheer will to kill. But you are not only a little quicker; you also really want to stay alive. It is a force he rarely encounters. And quite frankly, it irritates him.

He may be older than you, taller than you and stronger than you but you have something he does not have: you actually still got something to lose.

And you fight like it, too. All scratches and sharp yells, as you punch and scrabble at his shoulders and tear at his tie, trying to strangle him with it. John is struggling against it, gasping for air and winding beneath your assault and then his grip around your claves grows hard like iron, seconds before he pulls - throws you over his head like you weigh nothing. You land on the expensive carpet with a heavy thud - groaning as you crash onto your side with sharp pain shooting through your shoulder, down your ribcage.

I will not die today

John sputters and stumbles forward, looking for his gun but you are quicker, kicking it away with your foot. It clatters back onto and slides over the wooden floorboards.

For a second you consider your choices, fighting yourself back onto your feet but John - a practiced and seasoned fighter - beats you to it and lands a blow to your upper back, sends you back down with him - a mess of sputtering saliva and painful groans. His body topples onto yours and he quickly rolls the two of you over the floor.

John is heavy and warm on top of you, as he keeps you in a tight headlock, your chest pressed to the floor and neck bend in a painful angle. He presses his strong forearm down onto your windpipe and you choke and cough, feet kicking, hands dragging across the wood, clawing at it feebly.

You can feel his breath on your cheek, hot and damp. You can feel his torso pressing against your back as he kneels behind you.

I will not die today

Mustering all your remaining strength, you trash against him, ramming your backside into his stomach. He grunts and for a split second, his grip loosens. It is all you need. Throwing your elbow back, you hit him in the chest and he caves in.

You cough, crawling forward and then scrambling back onto your feet, one of your negligée’s straps falling down your shoulder in the process. You hastily pull it back up, seconds before John launches a cascade of punches onto you.

A few of them hit you as you try to block them; dull pain igniting in your body, blooming in your face and arms. Your breath goes heavy as you stumble backwards. You cannot do this. There is no way. You just physically can't.

He is stronger. Taller. Heavier. Deadlier. Your body and every single muscle, bone, nerve in it aches and you wheeze but he is already onto you again, half-tackles you and grabs your waist, ready to smash you back onto the ground.

You cling onto him with all your remaining strength, struggling against his huge frame, wrapping your hands around his neck in an attempt to get him to stumble.

His hair tingles on your naked arms. Oh wait --

Tearing at his hair - which has him grunting in both, pain, and irritation at the unusual attempt - you clumsily pull yourself up onto his shoulders, cutting his face right above his eyebrow with your nails in the process until you finally wrap one leg around his throat and close it around there tightly, choking him. John tries to pull you off him and succeeds after quite the tussle, only to find your frame clinging to him, legs and arms wrapping around his body, hands scratching and feet kicking.

I will not fucking die today

In an attempt to either get rid of each other or submit the last blow, to finally kill the other, you two swirl through the room - a deadly dance of torn skin, smashed glass panes and mirrors, bruises and cuts. Somewhere in between kicks and punches, he managed to pick up his gun - and right now, you are mustering all of your exhausted strength to prevent the barrel from pressing against your skull.

Eventually, John crashes your bodies through a large wooden door, and is not quick enough - unable to stop his own oxe-like strength - to stop himself from stumbling into the room. The two of you only come a halt as his knees hit something soft and ironically that is what finally topples both of you over, landing onto the mattress of your bedroom with a soft thud and deep, exhausted grunts.

Your ears ring, and you are ready to lash out at him again despite the physical exhaustion, to strike him square across the face, as --

There is something hard pressing against your crotch.

The world falls silent.

No. No, there's no fucking way. It's got to bea hidden weapon. Must be.

But clearly, it is not. There, between your spread legs, his hard cock presses snugly against your panty-clad pussy.

And he just feels so huge - mouth-watering huge - that your body responds in its own way, hips snapping up, stuttering against the hard bulge. John lets go off a shaky, ragged breath, hand still clutching his gun. And you know, that this is your window.

Feeling the warmth that his body and his hard dick are radiating through his expensive suit, you roll your hips once - a languid, slow motion, rubbing your pussy over his bulge.

And he groans. A deep, primal sound that sounds a little coarse. John is looking at you, starring you down, but there is a shadow dancing over his eyes, turning his brown eyes into deep and dark, black pits that gives him away.

He is horny. The Boogeyman is fucking horny. You would laugh, if the realization wasn't knocking all air straight from your lungs. Because it just another reminder, proof of what he actually is: human.

And what a sight he is to see - eyes turning darker every second, his chest heaving with every breath and making it seem like his shirt is going to pop a button or two any second now, his cock prodding against its restraints and your clothed cunt.

It makes you want him. The thought leaves you dizzy, makes you gasp.

Apparently, that is all he needs to roll his hips back into yours. And that - that is just unfair. It's playing dirty. It's, it's -- His dick feels huge as it trails along your folds, has the muscles in your abdomen clenching.

"Fuck", you breathe, a little overwhelmed with and helpless at the sudden surge of lust that ignites your body, the wetness pooling between your legs.

John is not saying anything, just stares you down while he continues to slooowly roll his hips into yours, grinds his cock against your cunt. Your pelvis twitches upward as you start to meet his movements, and then you can hear it. He let's go of a deep breath, and it sounds like the faintest moan.

You need to hear more of that. You need more of him, your cunt aching and hole clenching around nothing already.

"John", and this time you say his name - consciously - it sounds a different way of desperate: your voice reduced to a small whisper, torn at the edges by a wanton whimper ripping from your throat.

If it throws him off-guard he does not show it, does not let you see it. Instead, he grabs your chin hard, gaze locking with yours. Dark pupils blown wide, swallowing the honey-brown of his eyes, and your breath hitches.

"Yeah?", he rasps, and it does not take more than one long look from you for him to lean in, to press his lips onto yours.

The kiss tastes of blood and adrenaline and doom, and you relish in it. Relishing the way his lips move against yours and his beard tickles a little, relishing how his tongue presses into your mouth. It feels like he is eating you whole, licking into your mouth, one hand dancing over your waist - featherlight, like he doesn't know how to touch a body without hurting someone, destroying someone.

I will not die today, motherfucker

Your whole body now sings with it, the security of an impending victory, as you roll your hips into his once more, your tongue now licking back into his mouth. For a second you think about how to strike again, now that he is seemingly distracted, but all will to fight leaves your body as one of his hands brushes over your knee, wanders further and eventually rests on your thigh.

The touch is electrifying and then his hand grows braver, his movements more certain, as he grabs your thigh, feels you up. It happens so suddenly, that you gasp into the kiss.

John parts from you, his lips a little plush already. "Oh God", you whisper as you stare Death Turned Human straight in the face, not a single thought remaining in your skull despite your lust.

He doesn't speak, as he gently let’s go off your leg and straightens back up and for a second you think he is going to hurt you, with the way his brows are furrowed - but he doesn't.

Instead, he moves in, right over your comparably tiny frame - a mountain of a man. John kneels above you, his weight pinning you down while he straddles your thighs and Jesus fucking Christ - what a sight he is to see.

Dark locks falling into his forehead, a little sticky with sweat and the bits of blood from the cut your nails gave him moments ago - right above his left eyebrow, still lazily trickling down into his lashes. His chest heaves with ragged breaths, as he hastily gets rid of his jacket, carelessly drops it to the ground. His black button-down clings to his muscular body underneath his waistcoat and his equally as muscular thighs pin you down to the bed, black fabric nearly tearing at the seams. And then there is his hard cock.

It looks as huge as it felt, with the way it bulges his pants, the outline of it clearly visible as it buckles proudly against its restraints. You are certain, you will not be able to close your hand around it fully - not a chance.

One of his hands - the one lacking a finger, which you only now notice and what sends shivers down your spine - wanders over your body, pulling your negligée down in the process, right tit spilling out of the soft silk. He immediately grabs it, cups it with his large hand and squeezes. You mewl, marveling at just how big his hand is, just as his whole body is in comparison to you. His fucked-up finger digs into the flesh, sending shivers down your spine.

John's hand gropes your tit, before he impatiently pulls the neckline down roughly. You sigh, arousal shooting down your spine and tingling in your lower belly, as two of his fingers nudge your nipple, pinch it.

He watches your face intently, as he continues to grope you, rolls your nipple between his fingers. You mewl, breath accelerating a little but it is just not enough and you buck your hips upwards. John grunts in, what you assume is an approving manner, and let's go off your tit, reaches to his belt at his loins.

Quickly pulling a knife from God-knows-where exactly, a sharp blade enters your vision.

You blink, panic seeping through your lust and your legs twitch a little with fear. If John notices it, he neither shows it nor does he say anything, just moves the knife closer to your body.

The blade shines in the dim light as it dances over your exposed thighs carefully, the metal cooly pressing against your skin, before he flicks it and cuts your negligée open. The thin, soft fabric cleanly cut in half it now lazily slides from your aching body, falls to its sides. Your chest heaves, shivers running down your arms and back.

It happens so quickly that you can only blink. As your brain finally catches up with your eyes, you come to realize that he is holding a real fucking tactical knife. You have thrown one once - they are sharp as hell and deadlier than a bullet. The sound of fabric tearing easily, like paper, proves your point.

And John's movements with the blade are so fast that your breath hitches, a little afraid he might cut you. But he does not, instead, he quickly pulls the torn silk off you and away from under you, carelessly tosses it into the dark of the room.

The edge of the blade dances over your skin and you do not dare to breathe, as he trails it up and down your curves, gently nudges your nipples. "I could kill you", he says calmly and then, in lightning speed, presses the blade into the crook of your neck. Your head sinks back into the mattress, in an instinct to flee the sharp edge.

All it does is to expose your neck further and something gleams in John's eyes, as he presses the sharp tip down slowly, carefully nudging your skin with it. The metal is cold and hard and sharp and your breath hitches. Just a little bit more and it might burst your skin, draw blood.

But, to your own confusion, you do not feel threatened anymore. Oddly enough, your nerves tingle with excitement. You blame it on the already high levels of adrenaline that still pump through your veins, rushing back and forth from your brain and your lungs, but a small voice inside of your head whisper gently, deviously, that you know That's not it. And he knows it, too.

It's in his eyes as well, the sheer excitement of it all, the fucked-up pleasure it evokes in the both of you lays heavy in the air.

It turns you fucking on. It turns you on, that the man who - minutes ago - tried you kill you and did hurt you very fucking badly in the process of it, now decides to let you live.

It turns you on, that you are at his mercy.

It turns you on, that he decided to spare you - just for now.

It turns you on, that these large and strong hands holding the knife have that sort of power over you. And thus, as the blade nudges your head back further, you moan.

"I could cut your throat", John's voice is heavy and thick with arousal and you can feel your heartbeat picking up, breath accelerating. His gaze drops down, watches the rapid rising and falling of your breasts hungrily, while another soft moan escapes from your lips.

"Don't", you breathe softly.

The knife practically burns on your skin, and you can feel arousal flooding your clothed pussy, rubbing your thighs together for any sort of friction. John can feel your squirming underneath him, but he can also see your eyes turning watery and dark with lust, pupils blown and a pretty pink spreading on your cheeks, your breath growing shallow. And he just really needs to fucking taste you right now.

As quickly as it appeared, the blade vanishes from your throat before he twirls the knife like the ruthless, reckless professional that he is, and buries it deep to the hilt in the mattress next to you. The sharp sound as it pierces the thick fabric has the hairs on your body standing up, goosebumps rolling over your skin.

"I'll do it later", he rumbles - casually, like he is talking about doing chores or picking up groceries - before hunching over you, grabbing your chin with his fucked-up hand, and kissing you again. His tongue immediately pushes into your mouth, like he is starving to taste you.

John eats you whole, with the way his lips move against yours. His hand cups your face, tongue licking into your mouth, toying with yours. His kiss steals your breath and you start to get dizzy with it, hips bucking. You can feel his lips curling up and then he parts from you, leaving you a gasping mess, spit pooling at the corners of your mouth.

"Let me touch you, John", you whisper, voice a little small because you do not know why you feel that way, and if he will even allow it. But you just need to feel him.

For a long moment his gaze dances over your face and something shifts behind his eyes, like a shadow gets lifted and then very quickly returns. Ultimately, he gives a court nod, so small you nearly miss it and gives you a little more room while straightening back up.

Carefully, as if not to spook him, you dart one hand out, place it on his chest. The muscle is firm underneath his suit and you run your hand along the lapel of his jacket, down and then back up, before it slips beneath it.

John's body radiates warmth under the black fabric of his shirt and your other hand comes up, before you shove the jacket off his shoulders and onto the floor next to the bed.

Your breath hitches.

He is wearing a holster, a reminder of his deadliness, of the gun laying somewhere next to you. Maybe, he sees the fear returning in your eyes, but he is quick to shrug the holster off, throws it into the dark where it clatters onto the wooden floor boards. What is left in front of you are broad shoulders and a muscular chest, the fabric nearly tearing at his movements.

As you run your hands over it, you cannot help yourself - you need to fucking feel him for real.

Quickly making work of his waistcoat and tie you toss both to the side carelessly, before your hands roam his broad chest. His button-down clings snugly against his upper body and you can feel the muscles work beneath the black fabric as your hands brush over them. You tug at the shirt, pulling its tails from his pants before hastily opening the first few buttons. The skin underneath is pale, littered by blue - red - black bruises, birthmarks scattered in between like stars. You pop open the rest of the buttons, greedy to touch him. And as the shirt falls to the sides your hands are already onto his chest, roaming over and admiring the muscular, defined canvas of strength, that violence has painted a pretty picture on.

John is watching you intently as you undress him and then explore his body, your pupils blown wide and dark, mouth agape a little. He is a little taken aback by it - by someone not seeing his body as the ultimate tool of death that it is, but as something else, that he cannot really pinpoint because he can't even look in the mirror without seeing destruction and decay. But the way your gaze wanders over his body, the way you touch him, is different from that and he has not felt anything like it in years.

And John wants. Carnal desire tugs at his brain, shoots arousal between his legs, makes his cock twitch and a low growl escaping his throat.

The sound gets you going: pushing yourself up with one hand, the other wrapping around his strong neck for leverage as you sit up, mouth immediately clutching to his throat. He tastes of sweat and after-shave - sharp and musky - and you run your tongue over his skin greedily, licking and sucking at the skin while your naked body presses against his.

It disarms him. The gentle touch that you put his body up to, while everything still aches from plowing through the better half of your father's militia and beating the hell out of you, confuses him. Your touch, your lips on his skin are soft and not aiming to hurt - instead, they grow more and more needy, wanton and hasty, as you lick over his bruised skin, tasting his sweat. Your hands over his abdomen caress his defined muscles, in awe of his utter strength, thumbs brushing through the soft and dark trail of hair leading beneath the waistband of his trousers. And all John can do, is watch, his gaze locking with yours as goosebumps erupt on his skin.

And you - oh you; your head swims with the way you turn this animal into a human again, unlock a different set of animalistic needs within him and hearing John's breath growing heavy really fucking does it for you, feeling his scarred and beaten-up skin underneath your hands, wrapping them around the deadly machine that is his body. It makes you want more.

Shedding his blood-stained shirt off of his shoulders, your hands roam over his upper back - feeling the scars there: of knives, larger and small ones and round ones of bullets that once pierced his skin. There is something else, a burn scar, in the shape of a cross and he hisses as your fingers brush over it, nails digging into the stunted skin.

It pulls John out of his stasis, reminds him of who he is and you can feel the air swinging with it seconds before he moves. His large hands wrap around your shoulders and then he pulls you off him, throws you back onto the mattress. You yelp, eyes growing wide as you watch his face as it turns from lightly dazed back to stern, wild, with his brows furrowed.

"That's enough", he says, voice coarse and it still feels like a small victory, even though he spreads your legs roughly, hands digging deep into your thighs - hard enough to bruise - before he kneels between them. He yanks your body forward at the back of your knees, watches your tits bounce and then leans in, his lips immediately attacking your throat, your neck.

His lips are surprisingly soft against your skin, his beard tickling a little as it brushes over your tits, your stomach, your thighs while his tongue licks fat stripes over your nipples and down down down your upper body, right to your navel. One of his hands creeps up your body once more and roughly cups your tit, squeezes, and gropes it, rolls your hardened nipple between his index and middle finger. His stunted ring-finger digs deep into your tit and you gasp, hips bucking. John's lips suck and nibble at your skin, before eventually ghosting over your pubic bone, teasing you before assaulting your thighs again, teeth biting down gently into the soft flesh. You gasp and moan while he gropes your body, inhales your scent - as you watch how his lips, tongue, and teeth dance over your thighs, moving closer to your cunt.

John finally, finally, puts his mouth onto your pussy, peppers open-mouthed kisses around your clit, before clothing his lips around it and sucking on it hard through your panties. Your hips buck as a high-pitched moan erupts from your throat, hands flying into his greying locks.

"Fuck", you whine, feeling fresh wetness flooding your folds, dampening the thin fabric further. John can see the outlines of your wet pussy pressing against your panties and parts from your clit momentarily, only to lick a fat stripe over your clothed cunt, watching it twitch.

"That's fucking pretty", he rasps, gaze locking with yours and you feel all air leaving your lungs. His eyes are so fucking dark, like gleaming black pits swallowing you whole, his breath a little flat with arousal.

You want him to fuck you. Really fuck you. To plow you open, rail you until you cannot sit nor walk. He is already so so close to you, but too far away at the same time. "Please", is all you manage to utter out. And it seems to be sufficient enough for him; seems to get across what you want, what you need.

John's fingers wrap around the front of your lace slip, tugging at the fabric - that rubs along your cunt at the sudden motion and has you gasping quietly - and then he pulls. The lace tears easily as he rips it apart, and cool air hits your wet and hot pussy, as he practically peels you out of your underwear, throws it to the side. The look on his face is wild and you can hear him taking a deep breath, smelling your arousal, before he spreads your folds apart with his thumbs, gaze wandering over your plump and flushed cunt.

Teasingly brushing over your clit with his thumb, John watches your reaction intently. And fuck, you do not disappoint. Throwing your head back, you moan, drawing in a deep breath through your opened mouth that heaves your chest, your eyelids fluttering.

You are dying for him to touch you and as he does, it feels like your body catches fire - lust washing away the dull pain in your limbs and near your ribs.

"Oh God", you breathe out as his thumb draws another wide and slow circle over your clit, your hands darting out and grabbing the sheets "Please."

And John complies, his thumb rubbing over your clit in a slow but steady rhythm.

Gasping, your hands clutch the sheets, knees darting away from each other, giving him more space. John accepts the invitation, grabs one thigh hard, fucked up ring-finger digging deep into your skin. His fingers move further, abandons your clit and dance over your folds, down to your hole. It flutters as two of his digits tease it, gently circling around it.

"Please", you whine once more, lifting your hips a little, a desperate noise leaving your throat. John smirks to himself, before pushing two of his fingers into you.

The stretch is sudden and bigger than expected and you moan coarsely, as he pushes his digits along your walls deeply and nestles them into your seeping hot cunt up to his knuckles. And Jesus, you feel so full already; your head swimming as you consider how big his cock must feel, then.

Your breath goes quick and shallowly as he starts to move them, and then he leans in. Nudges your clit with the tip of his tongue, licks over it.

You feel like combusting on the spot: your nerves tingling with arousal, your whole body still aching from the beating you gave each other earlier - the pain in your back blooming as you stretch it with your hips desperately shoving themselves near his touch - your pussy squeezing his fingers.

John pumps his thick fingers in and out of you, his tongue rubbing and circling your clit and soft, needy moans fall from your lips. Obscene, wet sounds fill the air, mingle with your moans and heavy breathing. His lips close in around your clit, sucking at it while his fingers rub along your spongy walls and your cunt squeezes them hard as fresh wetness floods your folds, your squirt wetting his beard and dripping down on the sheets below.

You can hear - feel - John humming against your pussy, peppering the wet skin with open mouthed kisses, licking over it, and tasting your slick.

You feel so fucking good - lust pulsating through your veins, loins on fire - and your head falls to the side, body rocking with sharp gasps and your mouth agape, eyelids fluttering as --

There's the gun. And the knife.

You could easily grab either one or the other next to you, pull the blade out of the matress or the hammer back; put a bullet right between his eyes or plow the blade deep deep into his skull. Killing the Boogeyman. Killing Baba Yaga.

That would do wonders to your family's business. It would emancipate you from it, you would be free. Free to rule.

"Thinking 'bout killing me?", John rumbles, tongue licking a fat stripe over your cunt, nudging your clit. Your gaze flickers back to him: hair a mess, eyes gleaming darkly, hands on your thighs to keep your legs spread. He does not look surprised. Neither does he look worried.

Realization hits you like a blow to the head: he is toying with you. Has been the whole fucking time. The wolf hunting the deer, running a few rounds through the woods to weaken it; its breath whistling with exhaustion, long legs buckling before it collapses - an easy kill. An easy kill for an old wolf, one, that can't quite handle a real hunt anymore.

But maybe, just maybe - judging from the look in his eyes - he got lost in his own game. Its reins slipped from his bloody hands, the wolf tumbling to the ground.

Looking back at him, your lips curl into a sweet smile. "Not anymore", your hand darts out, brushing the loose strands of dark hair from his face - the soft gesture leaving him visibly confused -, "John."

Two can play this game. And maybe, just maybe, the deer can tire the wolf out first.

Something gleams in John's eyes, dances over them like a shadow and he seems to accept the challenge - readying to tire you out - tongue licking over your clit once more, making you shiver and mewl, as he pulls his fingers out of your dripping hole. You feel empty and --

"Do you really think, you could kill me?", he rumbles, voice deep and rough around the edges, "Stupid slut."

And then, quicker than your brain can process it, his hand comes down on your dripping wet pussy.

Your breath hitches, topples over and leaves your throat as a raw, needy moan. Softly stinging pain blooms between your folds and sets your nerves on fire. Blame it on the bruises, blame it on the pain you both inflicted on each other moments ago, but: it riles you up. Mingles with your aching bones and aching cunt, has you arching your back.

"Y'really think you could kill me", he doesn't sound offended, not even amused - voice plain, like he is inquiring if you really believed the earth to be flat. Like you really are stupid.

And you start to feel stupid, too. There was never a chance. You never had a chance. Your death was sealed, determined the second John stepped into the hotel.

You were stupid to believe you could outrun or beat him. You are stupid. And John has every right to show you, teach you, punish you for it.

Giving your cunt another firm slap, John watches your hips twitch, hears your pussy squelching and soft moans falling from your lips. "Shit", you sigh and he slaps your wet pussy once more, feels your slick folds wetting the palm of his hand.

"D'you like that, girl?", and as your only response are wanton gasps falling from your mouth John chuckles deeply, gives your pulsating cunt another two firm slaps. Seeing how he is pulling you apart, how good he makes you feel really seems to do it for him, gets him quite talkative.

"Uh-huh", you make dumbly, quite illiterate, watching him stroking your flushed, hot cunt with two of his fingers. Shivers run down your spine.

And then he leans back in, licks a fat stripe over your sensitive, flushed cunt, from the hole up to the clit.

You squirm, mewl as his beard brushes over your overstimulated skin, leaving a slight burn that mingles deliciously with a fresh wave of arousal that floods your body scalp to toes.

The muscles in your abdomen clench as two of his fingers circle your fluttering hole and then push in, rubbing along your plush walls agonizingly slowly and you can feel yourself tightening around it. Your juices squelch from your cunt as you squirt against his tongue and your slick runs down your folds, wets his fingers and palm while his tongue laps at your pussy, tasting your sweetness.

John pushes is fingers deeper as you moan and sigh, hands fisting his hair and hips moving against his tongue, his digits thrusting into you.

"Oh god", you huff as his lips close in around your clit, sucking on it and the tip of his tongue flicking against it occasionally.

Another wave of fresh wetness floods your cunt as you squirt once more, wetting the sheets below, your slick running down John's wrist.

John parts from your clit, nudges it with his tongue, his beard glistening with your juices.

"Yeah, that's fucking it", another one of his thick fingers pumps itself into your tight little hole and his other hand - also slick with your juices - grabs your thigh, "That's a good girl."

You feel so full, your spine feels like it's on fire and your brain tingles with it, sends wave of pleasure down down down your body; muscles in your loins clenching, chest heaving. It becomes all too much as he leans back in, rubs his tongue over your clit, lips sucking and teasing your folds.

The slight burn of John's beard tickling your plush, hot cunt. His fingers working your open and stretching your tight little hole open far and wide, obscene squelching sounds filling the air as he works you open, brushing against your g-spot occasionally and making you see stars.

But it's too little. It's just not enough.

"Fuck", you whine as John's thick fingers brush over your g-spot with quite some force, tongue lapping at your seeping cunt, "Shit, please. Please, just fuck me, please!"

You can feel him grinning against your wet cunt, beard a little sticky with your juices, letting go of your pussy with an obscene pop. "Yeah", he licks his lips, tastes you on his tongue, "D'you want my cock?"

And that - that might be what makes you lose your mind. Because yes. Yes, you do.

You have been craving to touch it, to feel it since it had pressed against your clothed pussy earlier. Thus, all dignity leaves your body with one, clean whine that breaks free from your throat.

"Yes, fuck - oh god, John", you brabble, legs falling apart further, inviting him in, his digits sinking deeper into your soaking wet hole, "Shit, please fuck me, John - please, please, please --"

Pleas are still falling from your lips like a chant, as a surprising noise breaks the silence, so strangely beautiful that it has you nearly shuddering: John is laughing. It's a nice baritone sound, and the fine lines around his eyes crinkle with it - it's so beautiful, that it drowns the world out. You watch him in awe, as he shakes his head, avoids your gaze.

"Jesus. Look at you", he huffs, voice dripping thickly with amusement, "If you need it that badly--"

Straightening back up and kneeling between your legs, John slips his fingers from your cunt and makes quick work of his belt, trousers, and boxers. The second he frees is cock, you start to drool like a fucking pavlovian-dog.

His dick is so fucking huge. It is nicely curved and cut, the bulbous pink head glistening with pre-cum and a thick, pumping vein at the bottom that rakes from the base to the tip, as it rests between trimmed, dark pubic hair. His cock bobs against his abdomen as it bounces free, smears the pre-cum along the pale skin, twitches at the sudden contact. And Jesus fucking Christ, you just want to fucking touch it, feel its velvety skin in your palm. But you just know that you won't even be able to wrap your hand around its base fully, it's impossible, it--

"I-it won't fit", you whisper, a little taken aback by his sheer size.

"Oh, I'll make it fit, baby."

John takes his cock in one hand, thumb right beneath its head, and rubs it against your slit. And Jesus fucking Christ. Your hips snap up, meet his movements, and he grunts while he spreads his pre-cum along your cunt, gathers your slick. The thick head of his dick prods against your entrance and you take a deep breath, looking down between your legs. You watch how he slooowly pushes in and you gasp at the sudden intrusion, the delicious stretch making you moan.

His cock feels so fucking big, hot, and heavy, as he nestles the tip in, your hole clenching around it. John's brows furrow, and he doesn't wait long until he pushes his cock in further.

The thick base starts to stretch your slim rings of muscles, a sharp pain shooting through it. He can feel your hole protesting, can see you wincing. "Breathe, baby", he hums, "Let me do the rest."

His coarse voice mingles with his words and the waves of pleasure shooting through your body despite the dull pain, conjures up a pretty pretty image that floods your brain - there's sunlight everywhere, orange rays of it hitting a bed covered in white sheets, sweaty bodies on top of it; limbs entangled, hands intertwined with their golden rings shining brightly in the warm light, heavy breathing and sloppy kisses, and lazy thrusts as his cock fucks you awake. The thought makes you dizzy, your legs falling apart and hole fluttering open, inviting him in.

The slight burn leaves you a gasping, whimpering mess as he pushes himself in deep, nestles his huge cock in between your aching, hot, and tight walls.

And John feels like he is going to pass out. No blow to the head, no bullet to the chest, no knife to the stomach could ever make him feel as dizzy as the feeling of your hot cunt squeezing him does right now. His whole body is vibrating with want and lust and he just really hopes that you don't notice that he has gotten a little rusty. The thought quickly gets drowned-out as he looks down, where his thick cock practically splits you open, vanishes in your hole.

"Shit", he huffs out, places one large hand on your stomach and thrusts. Feeling himself moving inside of you has him moaning, gaze shooting up to you, meeting your eyes, as his hand presses down. "You feel me right here, baby?", he rasps and you nod, mouth agape by the sheer force of his thrust, tip of his cock prodding your cervix.

John can see his cock moving inside of you, the way your stomach bulges a little. He gets a little dizzy with, and then his eyes make the mistake of moving up to your face. And it takes a whole lot of fucking will-power of him to not just thrust and thrust and thrust and fuck you until you cry, bleed.

You are so fucking pretty. Mouth agape you watch how his cock vanishes between your legs, splits your cunt open, with his eyes heavy-lidded and cheeks flushed. Your lips are plush and red from his assault.

Your hands grip the sheets and your breasts heave with your deep breaths, that grow a little more flaccid. Next to you lays his gun, knife still buried into the mattress. His eyes drop to the weapons and his breath hitches. And for a split second, like a flash of light, he wonders what in God's name he's doing here. He is a professional. The Ballerina works like that. He doesn't.

A sweet, sweet noise rips him out of his thoughts. "J-john", you mewl, eyes still trained on his massive dick splitting you open, "I-it, it's --"

"Yeah?", he breathes, the sound all soft and careful around the edges.

"Heavy", you breathe.

"Does it hurt?", he kind of wants it to. Make you pay for what you did to him. He kind of doesn't want it to. Make you enjoy what he's got to give.

John realizes he is fucked.

You nod, head flying back into the cushions, while your brows dart together.

John's free hand flies to your clit, nudges it gently, before slowly rubbing wide circles over it. You gasp, as you feel fresh wetness flooding your cunt and dripping down your folds to where his cock splits your hole open, pools around it. He carefully pulls out a little and then pushes back in, assisted by your slick. The way you moan spurs him on and the circles on your clit grow faster and smaller.

Aching your back, you lean into the touch. "That's a good girl", he whispers, voice raw and coarse, dripping with lust and the exhaustion of holding back. John bottoms out, while continuing to rub your clit and he can feel your walls growing plush, your hole fluttering around his dick, relaxing with your hot, seeping cunt inviting him in. "Feels good?"

"Yeah, fuck", you feel like you are being split open, with his thick cock filling you to the brim and rubbing along your walls with every little movement, the thick head prodding gently against your cervix, "Shit, John."

It feels so fucking good, all thoughts being washed away from your brain as he starts to move carefully, thrusts into you once, twice. You moan, lips slightly parted, before your gaze flies to him.

And Fuck. John's chest is flushed a little, muscles of his abdomen flexing with every thrust while his gaze is trained down to where his cock fucks into you, brows darted together a little and his breathing audible.

"John?", you whisper, and his gaze immediately shoots up to you as your comparably tiny hand wraps around the wrist of his hand that is still rubbing your clit.

"Yeah?"

"Fuck me."

For a long moment, he just looks at you and you think - no, you are convinced - that you can see a glimpse of the human being he once was. Caring, sweet and gentle; as he seems to really take it into consideration if you are ready yet, if you know what you are begging for.

Apparently, he does deem you prepared enough, and the soft gaze gets replaced by a dark gleam as all gentleness vanishes from his face once more. Without a warning, John rolls his hips back only to thrust into you again, deep, and hard, immediately picking up a quick rhythm.

It comes as a genuine surprise to you and you gasp, mewling but it quickly feels just so fucking good, practically lights your body up and leaves every nerve-ending on fire, each thrust has you moaning loudly.

It spurs him on, makes him grunt and for a while, you both just watch him gliding in and out of your tight hole, with him feeling your muscles squeezing him and you feeling his cock stretching your open further and further. Your lips as slightly parted and his brows are furrowed as he rolls his hips into yours and you feel time getting lost on you, the only thing of importance remaining is the feeling of him filling you up. John's hands roam your body, wandering over your thighs and your stomach, your hips before angling your leg, pushing the heel of your foot on his shoulder, and grabbing your ankle with one hand, his dick slips into you even further, balls slapping against your ass heavily with each thrust.

You can tell that John has not fucked in a long, long time. It's not the way he does it - all fluid, languid thrust of his hips, muscles dancing under the soft skin. It's mostly the way he pants and grunts - sounds just as desperate as you feel. And still, he has the stamina of a racehorse.

You can feel that he wants to prove it, too, as his free hand grabs your thigh and hoists your other leg over his hip bone, practically pulling your lower half off the bed in the process. Your pelvis now clings to his, obscene sounds of his cock fucking into your wet pussy filling the air while he huffs with his thrusts, yet does not slow down.

The grip on both, your ankle and your thigh are hard, and you are certain his hands will leave a bruise but you just cannot bring yourself to care. Deep down you know, that someone will see them: your maids, your friends, your family.

But all thoughts, all worries get swapped from your brain as your gaze wanders up from where John's dick hammers into you steadily, rakes over his defined stomach and chest and finally, finally lands on his face.

He looks downright, utterly, and breathtakingly -- pornographic.

John's dark pupils blown wide gleaming with arousal, his cheeks are slightly blushed and a thin layer of sweat makes him glow in the dim light of the living room falling onto the bed. It surrounds him like a halo, a Saint of Death and Decay, with his dark hair falling into his forehead and onto his shoulders. He brushes it out of the way with his stunted hand, a ragged breath making his chest heave. There is still some of your slick wetting his beard.

You can't help your mind from going there, from wondering how different things could have been. What it would be like if you had met me in a bar instead of him entering your suite, leaving the hallway behind him looking like a slaughterhouse. Maybe he would have laughed at your jokes, in the dim light of your favorite bar in the city. Maybe he would have liked the same music as you do. Maybe, just maybe, he would have brought you home only to stay the night and fuck you until you would have lost your goddamn mind.

Your hand wanders down your body, strokes your waist and hip in the process, before it languidly drops between your spread legs, two fingers darting out and rubbing circles over your sensitive clit.

John moves quickly, his usual deadly precision shattering your peaceful fantasy, his hand ditching your thigh and closing in around your waist. "Don't you fuckin' touch yourself", he growls, and it's the first time you hear real, actual emotion dwelling in his throat - not his toneless, cold and mechanical rumble. He sounds pissed. Offended.

And the best part is: it seems to get him fucking going.

John leans in, your calf still resting on his shoulder and the slight pain of the stretch is delicious as he nearly folds your body in half. You can feel his dick sliding in even deeper into your hole and you gasp and whine, one hand coming up to dig into his biceps to just hold on. Hold on, while he pounds into you with perfectly angled, deep and strong thrusts, hitting your g-spot with every single one of them.

You know that the suite's door is in shambles, that anyone could walk in here and see you having your brains fucked out by the man who is here to kill you - but you don't care. Part of it is, because the gun is still resting next to your head on the sheets. You could just grab it and shoot anyone dead in heartbeat, whoever is trying to disturb the pleasure that shoots through your body.

But it is also him.

It's the way John is towering over you, back hunched, looking all wide and powerful and deadly, with the way he shields your body from view and harm as he thrusts into you. As he pushes all his rage, adrenaline, and strength into your tight hole, groans, and pants into your ear.

There is nothing you can do, despite holding onto him, nails digging into his back, clutching his broad shoulders, fingers running over his tattoos desperately. He is fucking the living daylight out of you, your body moving like a ragdoll underneath the mountain of muscles and strength. Your cunt is being split open by his cock, as you feel him hammering into you and you feel like you are going to lose your mind, panting and moaning with each of his thrusts.

"John, fuck", you moan sweetly, eyes rolling into your skull as he pounds into you, "You feel so fucking good, shit --"

"Yeah", he huffs, his forehead slowly sinking onto yours, "You too, baby."

You can see his eyelids fluttering, feel his upper body heaving beneath your hands, smell the blood on his skin, mingling with his musky scent. Blaming it on the sickening cocktail of hormones that is flooding both - your brain and your body - you lean in, your lips desperately smacking against his.

And Jesus Fucking Christ. Does John kiss you.

Kisses you like he is starving for it, licking back into your mouth - his body pressing yours into the mattress with his whole weight and muscle, while still thrusting into you.

Your hands tangle into his hair, tugging at it. John moans against your lips and your stomach flutters at the sound, and you want more. One hand moves to lay at the crook of his neck and your tongue presses against his, licking back into his mouth. Adding some force to his neck you invite John deeper into the kiss, and he follows suite, steals you the last bit of air your lungs were holding. Panting you part from him, thumb brushing over the crook of his neck.

Greedily breathing against his lips, you can't help yourself. You feel so alive and you want him to wreck you, to leave something behind that you will remember for every day your heart continues to beat. Greedily breathing against his lips, you can't help yourself but to whisper: "Harder."

John blinks, hips stuttering. And then, he grunts. His hand digs into your waist as he grabs you there, hold you in place will his hips rut into you. Picking up a near brutal rhythm, obscene sounds of your slick being pushed in and out and in out of your hole as he jackhammers into your g-spot, the bedframe rattling as John's thrusts pound it into the wall - leaving you a gasping and moaning mess. His belt clinks with his thrusts and you cling onto him, sharp whines escaping your throat.

"John John John", his name leaves your mouth like a mantra, sharp and high-pitched. His head falls forward, dark locks brushing over your cheek as his temple rests against yours and then you hear it.

John moans.

It's a deep, carnal sound. Your stomach flutters and lust shoots through your body at the noise, your tight cunt squeezing his thick cock as you squirt around his cock like a broken fucking hose, wetting his pubic hair. You can feel it rubbing along your wet folds, the sensation making you mewl, leaves your hips shuddering.

"Shit", you breathe, hands cradling his muscular back and then you can feel his dick twitching inside of you, accompanied by yet another one of his sweet, sweet moans, "Fuck, John--"

He raises his head and your gazes connect, before he leans in, presses his lips onto yours once more. The kiss is surprisingly soft and in stark contrast to the way he ruts and pounds into you and then he hits the spot once more and -

Everything goes white as your muscles clench and unclench suddenly, as you nearly scream against his lips; your hole practically milking his cock as you cum, pussy gushing and squirting around him like a broken hose.

John continues to fuck you through your orgasm and his heavy breathing reaches your ears through the cotton candy, that slowly wraps you in as everything turns light and bright. He moans deeply against your cheek as he comes, too - shoots hot ropes of cum into you and paints your walls with it.

His movements still as he buries himself deep into you, cock twitching with each thick rope of his cum and you can feel him fill you up, as his massive frame slowly sinks down onto you.

Your legs grow heavy and the stretch of your left leg is turning painful and you - a little clumsily - pull it away from his shoulder, stretch it out. Your limbs start to shake and you close your eyes, drawing in deep breaths through your nose.

The room is silent, the air heavy with the musky scent of sex.

Your chest still heaves with the remains of your orgasm, bliss still spreading in your brain and your veins, making you feel like you are flying. Your heart is still racing, as you feel him moving again.

Blinking up at him, you can see him grabbing the gun.

"Don't", you say softly, voice coarse from screaming your lungs out in pleasure just moments ago, "Please, don't." You are not ready to scream yet again. Not ready to scream in pain, instead of pleasure.

John does not reply. He pulls the hammer back, checks the chamber - all with one hand.

"Kill him instead, please."

He freezes, eyes locking with yours. "Who?", he sounds just as exhausted as you. The wolf, tired out. The deer, bleeding, limping.

Call it Post Nut Clarity, call it Finally Taking Your Future In Your Own Hands, call it Emancipating Yourself. Call it Having Wrapped A Deadly Assassin Around Your Pinky.

You were not safer here. You never were. Just more isolated. Easier to locate.

Easier to kill.

Realization hits you like a blow to the head, your vision swimming.

See? I will not die today.

"My father. Kill him."

[bueckersstrap]

THE SPARKLING corset top you were wearing could be seen from a mile away. it was bright and bold and hugged the plush fat of your tits just right. the best part about the whole outfit was the matching sheer tights and heels that sparkled just as equal.

from a seat away you felt the blondes eyes on you. you pondered on who it could be and out of your peripheral vision you saw her. paige bueckers, the campus ‘slut’. facing her way after far too many shared glances, you tipped you shot down your throat chasing it with the lemon given to you by the bartender. your actions were all completed while maintaining eye contact as you used the back of your hand to wipe the remaining drops down your chin.

the way she bit her lip drove you crazy, what drove you even more crazy was the way her eyes stared you down. you almost drowned in her piercing stare if it wasn’t for her wandering eyes that kept focus on your plump chest.

a few shots later she was cocking her head to the doorway, in a daze and an act of oblivious idiocy, you let her hands guide your waist through the countless crowds of sweaty bodies and loud music. her fingertips drew intricate shapes on your hips, the feeling slightly ticklish but more arousing, accompanied by the with-drawl of the noise, your ears almost ringing at the quiet and cold of the night.

you knew getting in the car was a mistake, you felt regret come in waves after laying naked in her bed, eventually sobering up to the coldness that made your nipples perk up. god, you were in the campus sluts’ bed, completely naked besides the mesh tights that clad to your sticky thighs. the sparkles from them now disbanded between your thighs (you couldn’t tell whether they gleamed with arousal or the fallout of the sparkles). heels scattered on the floor, and your top glistening on the floor after being discarded long before you even realized, you now came to your post-nut clarity senses that you really fucked up.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Listen, i have way more Peter Quill ideas if you’ll allow me-

Can we get one where the reader is super horny for Peter but she doesn’t really want to say anything because they keep getting interrupted by the other guardians (like Mantis, Rocket or Groot needing something) and it happens multiple times until the reader just pushes Peter aside and they start making out. 😂

It can be full smut or just end wherever you want it I’m not picky…but i wouldn’t turn down smut👀 it can also be gender neutral i don’t care, thanks Love! 💖

~Bear🐻

hii again sweetheart!! of course, send them in at anytime:) love love it, I was nice I wrote smut🤭 thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

storage room rendezvous

Peter Quill x f reader

wc || 1.3k

warnings || 18+ only sexually explicit content minors dni

masterlist + rules

taglist

Being confined to the Bowie during long-haul missions often meant there wasn't much space or privacy, never having the luxury of a moment's silence without getting interrupted by one of the other guardians. You and Peter had recently started dating, so the amount of need you had for him was unbearable. You wanted him all the time.    

Rocket had to do an emergency landing on some random planet, twenty-something jump points away from Knowhere so he could tinker. So that left you and the rest of the crew stranded on the ship until the issue resolved. 

Waltzing your way over to the front of the ship, hands cutely laced together as you joined Quill in the captain seat, sitting across his lap. "Whatcha doing?" you question, making yourself comfortable. 

"Taking my seat before Rocket gets back," he chuckles, placing his hand on your thigh, adjusting you as he pulls you closer. "He ain't gonna like it," grinning at the thought. "What's up?" he asks, kissing your shoulder.

"Bored," you say slowly, your tone speckled with suggestion. 

"Bored, huh?" he repeats, his tone matching yours. "What'd ya wanna do?" he asks, already knowing what you're thinking, waiting for you to admit it.

"I did have one idea..." you hint, lightly trailing down his chest. "Oh, god!" you jump, lowering your face to the nape of Peter's neck. "Don't do that."

"What?" Quill questions, his eyes concerned as he follows your initial gaze. "God, Drax. How long you been there?" 

"Since we landed," Drax responds matter-of-factly, pulling a rustly bag from his pocket.

"That was an hour ago." You chime in, poking your head up to look at him. 

Shrugging simply. "Yeah... Zarg-Nut?" He offers, shaking the bag between you both.

Quill extends his hand over the back of the seat, cupping his palm towards Drax. "What?" he chuckles at your displeased expression, shoving a handful of the dried snack into his mouth. "I'm hungry."

"You are unbelievable," you playfully scoff, avoiding his green eyes. 

"Hi, guys." The soft voice of Mantis appears next to Drax. "Oh, can I have one?" She asks, nodding to the bag in his hand.

"They're all gone," Drax replies before pouring the contents into his mouth.

"I am Groot."

"Okay!" you say finally, clapping your hands together once. You loosen from Peter's grip as you stand up, lacing your hand into his as you lead him away from the group. "Come with me."

"Where we going?" Quill questions, following after you, his hand gripped into yours.

"Shut up," you whisper, leading him through the corridors as you search for a suitable storage room.

"You want me, don't ya?" he smugly asks, briskly walking to catch up with your long strides.

Poking your head through door gaps. "Yeah, now shut-up,"

He playfully chuckles, his tone full of assurance. "Knew it," snickering.

"Here's one," you mouth, dragging Peter into the empty room, forcefully shutting the door behind him.

You immediately attach your lips to his, ravenous and starved, desperately tugging at his t-shirt. He separates, his head hung low as he assesses your eyes. "Whoa, whoa, whoa... ain't even locked the door." He smirks, reaching behind to twist the lock. 

Quill loved when you needed him, loved seeing you desperate. He loved when you were verbal, telling him what you wanted, but not right now. He wanted the control and leadership he craved. 

He lightly trails his hand up your throat, grazing higher before cupping around your jaw, grasping the side of your face to bring you in. He instantly clashes his hungry mouth with yours, rolling and licking over your soft lips while his other hand travels behind your head to pull you closer. The need grows more urgent as his hands roam you, loosening the grip on your jaw to travel down to your throat. He holds it as he controls and deepens the kiss, pushing you back up and against the wall.

"What do you want?" he breathlessly asks against your lips, a wry grin looming. 

"You," you shakily reply, snaking your hands around his back, gripping the hem of his tee. 

"Yeah?" he softy whispers, entertaining you.

He slips his hand under your ass, cupping over the cheeks as he manhandles you, eagerly kneading the doughy flesh between his fingers. 

Sliding his palms up, they rest and clasp around your waist, kissing you in desperation as he squeezes you, grinding his clothed groin into yours.

He picks you up, holding you under your thighs as he walks you over to the stacked storage containers in the corner, placing you down atop them. His fingers snake into your waistband, immediately palming over your wet pussy, teasing your clit as his spare hand slides into his waistband. Lightly gripping his hardened cock and pulling himself out of his pants, firmly stroking up the length. 

You eagerly squirm out of your pants, letting them slide down your thighs and hang around your boots, draping from your ankles as you wrap your knees around his hips, bringing him closer. He yanks down his pants and boxers before sliding his tip through your folds, collecting your arousal around his shaft. "Fuck," he mutters at the contact, momentarily throwing his neck back.

He spits in his palm, rubbing the saliva over his veins to lube himself up as he adjusts you, bringing your hips forward. He pushes his head through your folds, slipping through the slick flesh as you both watch in anticipation. Needy whimpers fill the dingy room.

Gripping at his base, he eases into you. Slowly sliding his tip in as he attaches his mouth to yours, catching and muffling your initial moan. His hands graze up your back, holding you close as he sinks further into you, melting around his every inch. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, whining and mumbling against his warm skin as you adjust to his girth, clutching at his biceps. "Oh, God," muttering, his eyes screwing shut.

He kisses the side of your neck, lightly nibbling and suckling the skin as he slides in and out of you, moulding around him as he fucks into you. Completely filling you with every hasty wind of his hips, rolling into you as he chases after the high.

He grows desperate and demanding as he pushes into you. Massaging inside you, rubbing over your g-spot with the upper side of his cock, fucking into the areas you needed. He finally attaches his lips to yours, swallowing your open moans and whimpers as he groans into your mouth. Slipping in his tongue every once in a while.

You felt the overwhelming build of the high consume you, aimlessly whining against his lips as you felt yourself get closer. You convulse around him, sucking him in further in with every jolt. 

"Can I come in you?" he shakily asks, resting his forehead against yours. "Please- fuck," he mutters, closing his eyes like he's holding himself off. 

You eagerly nod, wrapping your legs tighter around him, crossing your ankles as you keep him glued to you. Desperately clawing at his back as you let go. Quill pulsates for the final time before spilling his load deep into you, senselessly whimpering in one another's mouth as you both reach your long-awaited release. The room full of hot shaky moans.

He gingerly drags himself from you, watching the connecting strings of his cum as he pulls out. He bends to the floor, pulling up his pants before doing the same with yours, holding your hand as he helps you down from the containers. Keeping you balanced, chuckling at your stumbly footing. 

"I'll uh... I'll, um," you stutter, momentarily closing your eyes as you think of the words. "I'll join you out there in a few minutes... don't make it obvious," you grin, reaching up to kiss him tenderly, playfully slapping his ass as he turns away.

Turning around with a faux displeased expression, head cocking. "I'll tell 'em," he warns with a raised brow and boyish smirk. "Don't think I won't..." teasing you. 

Grinning with raised hands as if to symbolise your innocence. "I'll see you in two minutes... Quial."

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Simon "Ghost" Riley NSFW Alphabet

Warnings: 18+, smut, mentions of spanking, mentions of knife play, mentions of somnophilia, mentions of bondage, possessive Ghost, mentions of masturbation, mentions of breeding kink, mentions of being mugged, marking, just general smut

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

This man will NOT rest until you are satisfied, both during and after sex.

You name it - a bath, massage, satin bedsheets and chocolate - it's yours.

He knows how hard it is to take all of him given both his sheer size and how rough he can be, so he knows you deserve nothing less than the best for your service.

He never thought he'd be on the giving end of the whole "Thank you for your service" speech.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His: His legs, particularly his thighs. Loves how strong they are and how much you like them, too.

Have been many occasions where you've called him "dummy thick", thus leading to him actually acknowledging how large his thighs are.

Enjoys bending you over his thigh and spanking you. Period.

Yours: Anything he can mark. Which is everything.

Man will find a way to make sure you look like you've been JUMPED by how many hickeys he leaves on your body.

And if it weren't for their placement - on your neck, chest and between your thighs - people would likely assume you had been mugged.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Will cum inside you at any given opportunity.

After fucking you raw for the first time, he can't go back to wearing condoms now.

He will if you ask him, but you both enjoy the feeling when he doesn't.

Will absolutely cover you in his cum btw. And I mean c o v e r - for therapeutic purpuses.

"Therapeutic" meaning he wants to show you who owns you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Takes a pair of your underwear with him when he's called back on duty.

They remind him of your touch, your body. Make him feel a little less closer to you.

Also uses them to jack off; man is busting a fat nut whenever he's holding your underwear in one hand and milking himself with the other.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

In theory, very, but he's had few-to-no chances of getting to exercise his galaxy brain knowledge.

That said, he knows exactly which buttons to press to have you crying under him. And is not ashamed to abuse that power.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

If you're AFAB: Missionary. Loves watching his cock bulge in your stomach as he ploughs into you. Your parted lips and pleading sobs are a source of intoxicating validation for him that he is the only man you'll ever want or need. He's just making sure you know that, too.

If you're AMAB: Doggy style. He threads one hand through your hand and grips it, pulling your head back to whisper obscenities in your ear. He's pushing down on the small of your back with his other hand, making sure you're not getting away from him that easily.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Dead serious.

If y'all fucking, it's either because he's showing you the most vulnerable, exposed corners of his love for you, and humour has no place in the bedroom at a time like this; or he's angry. Either way, the only smile he's cracking is one of sheer love or absolute cruelty.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

When he's away, he doesn't need to keep himself trimmed or presentable since no-one's going to be seeing that part of him.

When he's home, however, he'll get himself into hair and makeup if that's your preference. But there will be times when he forgets or simply can't be bothered, but he'll try his best :-).

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

In the bedroom, nothing else exists aside from you and him.

He'll pour his soul out to you through physical touch rather than words, unless he's feeling particularly sentimental and needs you to hear how much you mean to him, how good you make him feel (both sexually and non-sexually).

Makes intense eye contact with you throughout, half-lidded and eyes glazed with the impenetrable sheen of lust and love.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

When he's away, he'll jack off once every 2-3 days, his line of work making it difficult for him to have enough time alone to: 1.) get hard, and 2.) jack off.

When he's home, he rarely does it because he doesn't need to. He has you, and you've never turned him down, nor has he you. But if you've fallen asleep and he's still horny, and you didn't agree to partaking in somnophilia or he doesn't want to wake you, he'll deal with the issue himself.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Oh boy, here we go *cracks knuckles*.

Breeding kink - he wants complete ownership of you, and having part of him literally inside you is the best way he goes about it. That, and he just wants to have a happy family (aww).

Somnophilia (as previously discussed) - just something about you trusting him enough to handle your unconscious body sends him feral.

Size kink - man's massive, you're not. Likes having his ego stroked by seeing his cock bulging inside you. Need there be more said?

Knife kink - again with the trust; it means a lot to him.

Bondage - please see above. This man is a top through and through and he thrives off people being at his mercy.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

At home, in the bedroom, shower, living room - anywhere familiar enough that he feels safe.

Not just for his sake, but for yours, too.

He needs to be somewhere secure so he can protect you.

He knows the layout of the house and so feels most confident there. Means he can relax and take his time with you.

Also means nobody else will have their prying eyes all over you

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Just you.

But if you do something that makes him remember just how special you make him feel (so basically anything), he is down horrendous.

Will not let you go until you've felt the full extent of his love.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Any form of bodily harm.

He's terrified of hurting you.

With knife play, it's different because he can control his strength and knows he's not going to cut you deep enough (if at all) to leave any permanent scars or damage).

And thus will avoid any possible scenario where he could end up breaking that streak.

Also wouldn't have a threesome or a couple swap.

You're his and his alone, and his soul belongs to you.

He wouldn't see anyone else as a threat and more so a mockery, and trust that Ghost does not like his ego being injured.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Loves receiving and giving.

He's a simple man; he sees an opportunity for head, he takes it.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Depends on the mood.

He usually enjoys going slow and pressing scorching kisses to your body if you or him want to. But when he's angry or wants to finish, he'll go fast and rough (given that you want it and can stand it).

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Doesn't partake in them.

He likes to take his time with you, even if he's angry-fucking.

He'll draw out the entire experience for as long as you can stay awake to feel it.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He's open-minded and will try anything you want to and will perform it to the best of his ability.

Unless it's anything to do with involving someone else.

He will not share you.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Too many.

He'll outlast you by a good three rounds given his rigorous military training, patience, and behemoth build.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Doesn't own many, if any, since you've only ever needed each other to be satisfied.

Would be open-minded if you wanted to experiment, though.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

If he's feeling patient, he'll refuse to penetrate you, instead poking and prodding and stroking anywhere but where you need him most.

After that, he'll just edge you for hours until he knows you can't take it anymore.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Can be vocal but will usually grunt or groan.

Isn't a natural moaner like Konig or Alejandro, but that doesn't mean your touch doesn't drive him to the edge of insanity.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

You are the light of his life and will not hesitate to stop if he thinks he's hurt you in a way you're not into.

You'll have to reassure him many times before you can continue that yes, you're okay. No, you don't need an ice pack.

He only does it because he has the upmost respect for you and loves you with every fibre the universe has to offer.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

8 inches, very girthy.

Struggles fitting it in sometimes; it burns when he pushes into you if you don't have time to be warmed up, but that doesn't stop the two of you.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

When he's away: he's in dangerous situations more often than not, so he doesn't really get the chance to havea sex drive. However, as mentioned earlier, he'll jack off every 2-3 days, so pretty average.

When he's at home: he can and will go at any time. If you want to spend the whole day in bed, then so be it; Ghost's not one to say no to someone in peril.

Would spend every day with you like that if he could.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Depends on if you want or need aftercare after the fact.

If you don't, he'll wait until you've fallen asleep and join you.

But if he's giving you aftercare, he'll wait until you're tucked in bed and wait until you fall asleep.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

NSFW Alphabet Template by @the-coldest-goodbye

[sugurizz]

omg I saw u were looking for requests for jaekyung, maybe he gets mad bc you almost didn’t make it to him before he had to go and fight, almost making him lose the fight

So I found this in my inbox not sure when I received it but DAMN is this a HOT JAEKYUNG THOT

Send MORE JAEKYUNG THOTS guys!

SMUT/NSFW +18 / ROUGH and VIOLENT sex you've been warned!

Damn damn he'll be do damn mad his eyes will be lit with anger cause he doesn't fuck around when it comes to his career and anything that might disturb his success would piss him off like crazy so he'll call you on the night before the match asking you to come over waiting to wreck your pussy to his heart's content but somehow he kept getting left on read the entire evening with no replies whatsoever.

You were probably busy or maybe there was a train delay or smth and he was going NUTS on the other end feeling his blood boil inside his veins. He thought about calling someone else but he somehow couldn't quite bring himself to touch anyone else but you.

Until you somehow made your appearance later that night almost out of breath trying to make it to his place on time. He met you as you came in with his arms crossed upon his chest. Eyeing you up and down as you felt the electrifying rage all over his features.

'I'm so sorry! My phone almost died and I had to-'

He grabbed your poor arm and dragged you to the couch. Unzipped your jeans and pulled them all the way down. His rough fingers pulled your thong to the side and fevershly rubbed your pussyhole.

'S-Sir, please wait! I need to loosen-'

His huge hand forced your head downwards, burying your whole face into the couch

'Zip it.' His heavy fingers locked your head down, pressing on the back of your neck. His other hand squeezed your asscheek so hard you felt your hot tears come out. He rammed into you full speed as all you could hear was the ruthless thrusts and the fury-filled groans. He took all his frustration at your delay on your poor little cunt, blowing your back almost as if he wanted to break it in pieces.

'You fuck around with our agreements again and I'll make it hurt a thousand times worse. Got it?'

He pulled you by the hair and groaned low in your ear, the menacing tone in his voice only adding to the sticky arousal dribbling down your thighs. His hand came up to violently fondle your tits, ripping a few buttons of your shirt in the process.

He took you there for hours till you couldn't feel your legs anymore. But your loud cries and snotty nose sure did a poor job of making him stop anytime soon.

[anonimusunnoaniswriting]

⚠️𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈. 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐀���𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘⚠️

🎀Show your age if you wanna interact or I block u🎀

✨𝐇𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐈𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲✨ (𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨𝐱𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

Gojo likes to take pictures of you—videos too if he can. You could be lounging in his living room, sprawled on the couch, wearing nothing but his hoodie that sat snugly on your frame. Click! You could be in the kitchen, cooking a delicious dinner, the smells of which make passers-by lift their noses into the air and take deep whiffs. Click! You come out of the shower in a towel, click! You feed your cat, click! You brush your teeth, click! Gojo would even buy you pretty heels and dresses, jewellery and make-up, and take you to expensive restaurants and do fun activities – all so he could dress you up and take pictures of you. Click! Click! Click! Everything you did was carefully documented in his camera roll. Pictures he would proudly show off, even unprompted, just for an opportunity to make his peers turn green with envy. 

Of course, he had another secret folder. This also had pictures of you—but they were only for one pair of brilliant blue eyes. Photos he took of your body. Of his fat cock, stretching out your little hole. Your tear-streaked face – mascara running down your hollowed cheeks – as you struggled to fit him in your mouth. Drool and gloss on your lips in a rambunctious dance, dripping onto your plush chest. Videos of his long fingers, tweaking and playing with your red nipples. Of your glistening pussy. Of his hand laying claim to your stomach, simultaneously lifting his hoodie off your tummy. 

Every time he was away from you, either you on a mission or him, he would whip out his phone, open up the folder, and massage his aching balls while watching you. He would hear his voice in the background of his videos goading you, as he gripped your thick ass to pull it down on his length. 

“Th-a-a-a-at’s it. Fuck– there's my good girl. Hng, you're taking daddy’s cock so well, sweety.” 

Your soft high-pitched moans from his phone's speaker only served to turn him on further. He would pull his cock out of the waistband of his boxers, gently stroking it and imagining your hand in its place. With every thrust on the screen, he would thrust into the grip of his hand, watching how your ass jiggled in his mind’s eye. Every move was known to him, intimately. Hours of studying his film work had made him acquainted with your body as if it were his own. He knew exactly which whine meant Please, give me more or I’m going to cry, to the gasp that translated to Fuck, Daddy, don’t stop, I’m coming!

There were times when he would make you look at the camera, “Turn around f’ me baby. Lemme see your pretty little slut face” And your head would turn to look at him, at his phone, as he continued to thrust into you from behind. Sometimes you would take his phone in your own hands, leaning it against a pillow to get a perfect shot of you. Your widened glassy doe-eyes, captured on the screen, tits bouncing in time with your lover's movements. You’d speak to him too, egging him on.

“More, Daddy! Please, Daddy! Yeah, stretch me out and fuck me—just like that!” Or you’d say something like, “God, please, you’re so big, it’s too much!”

Any time he heard you, coupled with the visual of your wet eyes and open mouth, it would make Gojo cum. Just a few jerks and he would nut into his hand, the sticky white fluid running down his fingers. 

His favourite video, however, starts off with him watching you from behind the camera. You’re in a lace lingerie set he bought for you, blue and white – matching his eyes and hair. You wore a dainty silver choker around your neck with a tiny bell that made a tinkling sound each time you moved – a collar almost.  Sitting on his bed, propped up by pillows, you had one hand pawing at your breast, while the other played with your hair. Your legs were spread apart giving him a delicious view of the growing wet patch on your panties. Gojo felt himself licking his lips each time he saw it. 

You would move your hand from your hair to your thighs, rubbing against the flesh softly, almost as if you were enticing him to come take a bite. And it would work. Gojo would set up his camera to record as he climbed into the bed with you, settling his head between your thick thighs. His mouth immediately latched onto you and sucked. 

Gojo in the future would fuck his pillows furiously, desperate to try and recreate the feeling of you under him but it wouldn’t work. In a way, he would be almost envious of himself. Of his proximity to you. The video Gojo continued, lapping at the wet patch on your panties. His hand reached up to grab at your breast and massage it. You let out a loud sigh, your hand finding purchase in his hair and you raked your fingernails against his sensitive scalp, to which Gojo would respond with a guttural growl. “Woman! Do you want me to cum while my pants are still on?” 

His kitten licks soon turned into a flat widened tongue, flush against your pussy, fingers tugging the panties to the side before he lost control and ripped them into two to get a better taste. You cried out at the loss of such a pretty lingerie set and were shut up by two long fingers being shoved into your mouth. It wouldn’t take long for you to cum on Gojo’s tongue. He knew his way around your body and sucked and licked on your clit and folds like a man possessed. The taste of you was intoxicating and Gojo, watching you on the screen couldn’t help but lick his lips, missing your flavour. 

You orgasmed with a squirt, gushing into Gojo’s mouth, grasping at his hair and crying his name like a prayer. Gojo didn’t realise till you yanked on his hair from the overstimulation crying, “Stop Gojo, stop please, no more – yellow!” He lifted himself off you, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His pupils were blown out and he looked almost wolf-like as he reached up to kiss you. His hips rutted into your tummy, the soft fat cushioning his hard thrusts. He was obsessed. 

He tugged at the bra pulling your heavy breasts into his mouth one by one. You helped pull off his boxers to let him feel your skin against his. His cock was hot. The weeping tip dripped pre-come onto your belly and it ran into your folds in a cold contrast. His lips never once left your skin. 

Gojo watching you on the screen later, would lose composure. Watching his cock sheath into you, knowing exactly how you felt around him would be too much. He would come for a second time that evening. Watching him, fuck you. You: falling apart on his cock; begging for him to cum in you; desperation and exertion in your voices as he finally ejaculated in you; sucking and nipping at your breasts. His hands pinned yours down and you both rode out the high repeating each other's names in unholy worship. 

He collapsed into your arms and you kissed him; his head, then nose, then lips. He pulled you into his embrace and told you how good you were for him. 

Future Gojo would come down from his high alone, and text you. The perfect shot of his hand, covered in his come. His soft cock, out of focus in the background. 

You would open it and add it immediately to your own hidden folder. Gojo isn’t the only freak in this relationship…

A/N: Yeah so Hidden Inventory has a different meaning here. That's all I guess. I secretly like gojo also ok bye.

Hearts and reblogs are much appreciated and comments will get you KISSIE.

[thomasdaniel91]

Chest Nuts Matching Chestnuts Christmas Couples T-Shirt

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[johnnydany]

Funny Chest Nuts Christmas T-Shirt Chestnuts Matching Couple Women  T-Shirt

Get yours: https://www.teepublic.com/t-shirt/37476139-funny-chest-nuts-christmas-t-shirt-chestnuts-match

=> SHARE & Tag Your Friends Who Would Love & Wear This Shirt.

[chrollohearttags]

reiner prides himself on being the perfect gentleman. Always respectful, kind and attentive to his partner’s needs…he’d never do anything that would make you uncomfortable or feel less than your worth. In that same breath though, he was infatuated with you. Some would even say obsessed. In the healthiest way possible, of course. After all, it couldn’t be helped when he had been blessed with the epitome of a living, breathing goddess as his own. A woman who made his heart explode and flutter with pure passion each time he saw your face..but even in your absence, he found ways to still soak in your essence and surround himself with your love. Even if it wasn’t becoming of his normal behavior..

such as when you’re away shopping and he’s left all alone on the ranch. It’s been a long day, as it always was. Sun beaming down his back and broad muscles as he maneuvered around the farm, lifting bales of hay and heavy equipment. It’s all in a day’s work but even he needs a break sometimes. So whilst you’re away, enjoying the fruits of his labor..living the soft and gentle life he worked so hard to curate for you, he comes into the bedroom, taking a seat on the mattress and it’s then that he spots something. Something…that piques far more than his interest. He hates to admit it but he misses you right now. Although you had only been gone for a couple hours, he needs you..he craves you. It couldn’t be helped when he watched you strut to the matte black Benz Truck in a sundress; ass poking and tits sitting amply. Each cheek juggling as you walk away and it’s taking all his resolve to not grab you up right there outside, shove his tongue in your mouth and make love to you right there on the hood of your car! Hell, it wouldn’t have been the first time but for now, he’ll improvise. He’ll make do by taking the thin pair of lace panties you left near his pillow. More than likely a result of you rushing to get dressed and forgetting to place them back in your drawer.

checking over his shoulder once more to ensure he’s alone before raising them to his nostrils and inhaling the scent of fabric softener and your feminine scent. That sweet, airy fragrance wafting through his nostrils and getting him aroused. It’s so uncouth, absolutely perverted!…sniffing his wife’s panties like some teenage degenerate. Even so, he can’t bring himself to stop. He can’t bring himself to stop cupping his cock through the sheath of his Wranglers. Releasing soft grunts into the material and continuously breathing it in. His eyes are shut and his mind is in a place full of perverse and lewd thoughts. Imagining your ass taking the place of those underwear; bouncing all in his face as you two engage in a 69 position. Your mouth and nails wrapped tightly around his dick. Stroking him with strings of spit leaking down his shaft. Oh, he’s about to combust just thinking about it! “Oh…fuck..” the words rumbling underneath his breath as he unfastens his pants and slowly starts to fuck up into his closed fist. The sensation matching the tight grip of your gushing pussy. The one that swallows his member as if it were especially designed for him. His perfect little cock sleeve and he wants nothing more than to be one with you right now. Slowly but surely, he keeps going..speeding up as he pounds the palm of his hand with that swollen, dribbling tip breaks through those fingers. The thought of you being seated atop his dick..riding him with those giant breasts bouncing up and down, creaming on him down to the base as you beg him, “come in me, daddy..nut in this tight pussy..” it’s enough to make him twitch fiercely and he nearly bucks his hips up through the roof when he hears your voice subconsciously. It’s only a few more minutes before sweat is trickling down his forehead and he’s fucking himself silly. Tongue out and eyes shut with his chest heaving immensely. That husky voice huffing and begging you for that release as if you were right there. Still wrangling those undergarments around under his nose. “F-fuck. Damnit!” Just then, warm strings of a healthy nut comes pooling down his digits. The hot, white cream staining his knuckles. His face is flush, red from both relief and embarrassment. He can’t believe that he just did such a thing but he feels no regret. No regret for feeding into his desires for the woman he loves.

“Damnit, sugar. Look what you do to me..”

[xuchiya]

freaky deaky [c.jongho]

₊˚.༄ || filth valentines m.list || hongjoong || seonghwa || yunho || yeosang || san || mingi || wooyoung || jongho || ₊˚.༄

₊˚.༄ Got the mirror on the ceiling You're in the mood to please me ₊˚.༄

Here’s the thing, Jongho is horny, like right now. Let’s get it straight as he is really in need to release his desires or else he’ll explode but he couldn’t do that, not especially when he’s with you, his girlfriend who he can’t corrupt its innocence unlike his sister but that's a different story. 

  You were both back inside the hotel; immediately you belly flop yourself on the circular queen size bed, squealing at the softness of the bed making you relax instantly. The day really started with a coffee breakfast date then walking around the park and touring around the town of Italy but after the lunch you shared with Jongho, you noticed he was acting slightly out of his character.

   He would remove your hands that were wrapped around his arm or he would shake his head when you want to take a selfie with you whenever you reach a certain part of the town that is so beautiful that you want to have a nice capture with Jongho but he isn’t cooperating with you or he would just have a distance as you look around.

Your mood sours and declares that the sun is setting low (even though it's just 2 in the afternoon) and you want to sleep instead. You groan, eyebrows frown as you turn on your back to see tiled like mirrors; surprising you as you have never seen the mirror ceiling since yesterday that you have settled in.

  You took the opportunity to do just what you like to do and enjoy the moment of yours while you let your boyfriend do whatever he needs to do; reflect what he had done to make the day so bitter for you.

  It was nearing golden hour and the sunlight had hit your room igniting a symphony of dust motes dancing in its warm embrace, casting the room in a luminous golden glow. As the camera captures your figure posing on the mirror ceiling; you decide to enliven your gallery and to what you can post on your platform. Underneath your sundress, you wore a matching set of lingerie, just for Jongho but you were not in the mood to talk to him just yet.

You started taking pictures in your lingerie, minding your own business until you felt the bed dipped on the other side, you knew who it was but chose to ignore him and continued zooming in and out of the pictures, posing, “Jagi .. I’m sorry.” Well it was genuine but it meant something else. He had enough of today’s agenda that had him igniting more and added to his fuel? You are in bed, taking pictures and in his favorite.fucking.lingerie.

Your head turned to him, aligned with your raised eyebrows until you huffed, returning the straps back on your shoulders until you felt a tight grasp on your wrist, stopping you from placing the straps back in. your head snapped at him ready to explode but with his hooded eyes and chest heaving, you knew immediately why he acted this morning.

Sudden rush to the bathroom? Hiding something under the pillow when you walk out from the bedroom as he waits in the living room? The hands on your lower back that are always above your bra line? And whenever you cling to his arms, does he go nuts when he can entirely feel your boobs on his? Yes entirely, crazily and horny yes!

“You smart jagi~  know what’s on your mind.”

Here’s the thing, you are also horny. Just as much as Jongho is; you were at the worst of your horniness that you started to imagine things that you never thought you would do in your history of sex. You love Jongho so much that asking for intimacy is a problem.

THAT is the problem. To you and to Jongho. You were quite aware of the fact your closest friends always tell you were gifted with an innocent face but a devil in mind. You speak filthy words yet the face says otherwise; that’s why you always get away with things like website history on your computer with the look ‘i don’t know maybe someone did.’

   And Jongho fell on your innocent face too.

“Am I Jongho? Is my presence too much for your desires? Or is your dick aching to get wet right now?” Jongho was taken back when you grabbed his hand and hover it on your breast. His hand trembles underneath the soft flesh of your boobs, his hand curled on the slightest and he is sent to heaven how he imagined they will be. Soft and jiggly and fits perfectly in his hand.

His eyes trailed on what he thought was innocent but with your actions, he doesn’t think of it anymore. Jongho had held back for so long to not surprise or traumatise you by pouncing at you like a wolf on heat.

Maybe he is on heat. The burning desire of wanting you is too much for him. His tongue glazes his dry lips, eyes trailing down to your lips to your blooming pushed up cleavage on your lingerie, “Angel face yet so vicious.”

Jongho moves closer to you, diving his head on your cleavage; his nose nudging on the flesh and he is met with the scent of sweet flowery lotion he loves. Jongho’s warmth hand clasp around your waist and pulls you on his lap, he laid down on the soft bed, looks up at you with lust yet affection can still see in them. You pull your hair up in a messy makeshift ponytail as you grind your hips on his hard boner poking uncomfortably in his pants.

His grips tighten as he buck his hips on yours, groaning as he can feel the wetness pass through your panties, “I can already feel you so wet jagi.” You moan before leaning your arms on his thighs,moving your hips smoothly over his crotch; hard and uncomfortable against his slacks.

Jongho’s head leaned back diving in the pillows, eyes suddenly catching an erotic scene on the mirror on the ceiling. His lips went between his teeth, the image of you bare  and exposed to the reflective image on the ceiling while riding him messily had him groaning, wanting to ram himself inside your velvety walls. Bend you over, screaming on the sheets as he takes you from the back.

“If you really want to fuck me so bad .. What's stopping you?” Your voice echoed in his deafening ears. Your words had triggered something before you both knew it, his calloused hands reached up to you, hastily removing your lingerie and his pants off. 

“Oh? Nothing is stopping me … I can fuck you as much as I want. Cum in this pussy as many times as I want no matter how many times you tell me to stop, oh baby, I got all day and night to paint these walls white and reach every inch of you on my dick.” His words shocked you as you have always thought Jongho to be the conservative, even, in his words and wants to express them in a clear manner.

Well it seems clear now.

You watch as Jongho removes his clothes one by one, not breaking eye contact as you sit there bare, tits hardened as the cold room nips on your skin and the erotic smell coming from Jongho has you in your own high. 

“Come here jagi, ride me.” His straightforwardness had always questioned him as he tended to shy away with his words. Sometimes during your kiss, you were the one who opened up and he was too shy to even utter a single word. 

Now, seeing another side of him is not terrifying but intriguing as to why he has never shown this side to you, not even once. 

You moved closer to him, sitting on his lower stomach, your ass near him, wanting to test him for a little bit, “Is this what you’ve been hiding from me, jagi?” You purred, moving your hips, your folds leaving slick on his stomach making him groan, palms so hot on top of your thighs, “You’re one of those innocent looking yet so lewd.” You move a little backwards towards his stiff dick and let your clit glide on his size, your bundle of nerves throbbing each time it hits his tip.

Jongho was left speechless too, considering you were one of the angelic faces amongst your group yet why is he not surprised when he heard you speak so sinfully to him.

“I could say the same to you but enough talking and let me fuck you.” Jongho pushes himself up and wraps his arms around you before rolling you around.

“That’s right jagi~ Taking my cock so well.” His hand on your back is like a dream, light as a feather yet so viscous that it makes your back arch as his cock slides back in and out of your cunt. Your manicured nails clawed the sheets below you as you meet Jonho’s hips in a motion that had you feeling every inch of his cock, gliding nudging your walls so feverish; looking over your shoulders to already see he has his eyes on you, hooded with lust and dominance, “Do you want me to go faster? Just tell me and I’ll make you see stars.”

You were bent down, your tits brushing the sheets as your ass were prompted up just for him, to smack, to fuck and use to pleasure himself. His hips snap every time he bottoms out, he halts to pull you closer and make you grind on him before pulling a few inches and thrust back in, “So~ good jagi!”

His arms crossed to grip each side of your ass as his hips thrust deeper and faster, making you whimper clawing back on the sheets as you near your climax, “U-uGH jagi! That’s it! Fuck!” The bed creaks, your muffled moans and Jongho’s curse of pleasure. 

“Jo-Jongho!” His hips halted, pulling out before flipping you on your back, he tapped his dick on your puffy cunt before slamming back inside without any warning. Jongho grabs on the headboard of the bed whilst the other wraps around your throat. The pressure sent you to orbit, seeing stars as his hand fit perfectly around them and the way his hitting the spongy spot inside you had you creaming his dick; creating a ring of your cum near his pelvis.

“There! Right there! Shit shit!” Jongho chuckles darkly as he watches you twitch underneath him, he feels your walls clenching him; a queue that you were nearing your climax and Jongho wanted to cum inside you deeply. He leans down, removing his hands to place them on each side of your head, “Put your legs on my shoulder jagi~” He demanded.

Shakingly, you place them on his broad shoulder and with the new position make you squirted. A long string of ‘oh’ left your lips as Jongho abused your squirting pussy to lube himself as he speeds up, he chuckles near your ear, “You like that?”

You nodded, grabbing his cheeks and pulling him in a messy make-out session. Jongho hums to the kiss as his hands move to your legs, squeezing them before pulling away. He leaned back, spreading your legs open in ‘V’ shape. 

“Squirt for me again jagi, wet yourself for me.” You bit your lip, your fingers running down to rapidly circle your clit. The overwhelming pleasure had you returning to the stars as you felt your walls clamp on his dick, “I’m gonna cum jagi! I’m gonna squirt my cum on your dick!” 

A smirk display on the corner of his lips,”Like I said jagi~ No one is stopping me, I can fuck you as much as I want . Go ahead.” With the last spring snapping, Jongho pulled a few inches back as your hole squirted out your juices. He taps them, making you squirm from the sensitive activity for the past hours and the amount of orgasm he gave you.

When you finally rest up, Jongho slams back in taking you by surprise, “I haven’t cum yet jagi~ Let me cum inside that pussy, please!”

His hips stuttered and faltered so did his breathing as he was reaching his climax, just like you, his hips halted and a deep groan broke from his throat as a string of his cum spurted each corner of your walls. Your eyes rolled back from the warm feeling, making you squeeze your tits.

Jongho pulled your hands away from your tits and replaced them with his. Twisting, pulling and circling them and even going to the point of slapping them to make them bounce before he pulls out. His chest heaves and so does yours.

Jongho’s eyes laid on your dishevelled naked body before chuckling half-heartedly, “I’ll get the bath ready.” He grabbed his disregarded boxer and went towards the bathroom. You turn to the side as you watch his figure disappear from the bathroom and a few minutes later, he comes back to pick you up.

He places you down on the bathtub, scented candles and sweet-smelling bath bombs. Jongho places himself behind you, “Is this okay? Do you need something? Did I go too much on you?”

You shake your head, cupping water to fall on your shoulders when you feel a warm lips on your back then hands wrapping securely around your torso and pulling you close to his chest. You instantly relax from his hold, releasing a relieved breath as you close your eyes.

“I’m sorry.” Jongho spoke. You hum in acknowledgement, “I understood you jagi~ No need to apologise.” It must be hard on Jongho to open up this kind of topic since he might scare you off with his sexual desires or how high his sex drive is but with how you understood him without even explaining had him crying from the inside from being lucky to have someone to accept this other side of him. 

“But what I did to you this morning is something I want to make up to you.” You can imagine him pouting and making you chuckle; playing with his fingers, “Oh jagi~ You already did. Multiple times.”

“Oh …” He tilted his head to look at your smirking face, “Is that your way of accepting my apology?” You turned away from him but his hand had already gripped your jaw, turning you to look at him. He stares down at you, his eyes flickering down to your eyes to your lips. 

“Kiss me you freaky deaky.” His eyes disappear, laughing at your comment. His gummy smile showed as his cheeks flared, “Yah! Don’t call me that!”

[oakparchment]

If Yeji wants it, she'll have it.

Yeji x Lia, Yeji x Ryujin, Yeji x Chaeryeong, Yeji x Yuna

Length: 855 words

Tags: g!p Yeji, dom Yeji, futa, free-use, CNC, food sex, phone sex, somnophilia, watersports (golden shower), cock warming

Summary: All the other Itzy members are free-use sex toys for Yeji's horny desires.

AO3

A/N: This is basically a bunch of different kinks condensed into short stories for each Yeji pairing (because when it comes to writing long pieces I lose focus and rarely end up finishing them). If you read through all those tags and decide to continue reading because you're into all of that then congrats, you are one kinky individual.

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If Yeji wants it, she'll have it. Lia in the kitchen cooking? Better hope nothing's currently on the stove cause the older girl will bend her over the counter, grinding her dick into Lia's still clothed mound. At first Lia will complain about how its unsanitary and say ridiculous things like "the kitchen is where you prepare things that go in your mouth, not your other holes", but Yeji knows its all talk when she can feel the wetness seeping through her roommates panties.

After a few minutes of fucking her into the kitchen counter, Yeji notices the array of vegetables yet to be prepared. "Pick up that cucumber and fuck your mouth with it, I know you like having both your holes filled at the same time". Lia does as she's told. With one hand holding herself up, she uses the other to suck off the green rod, timing it so that Yeji's hard thrusts matches when she shoves it down her mouth. This continues until Yeji has her fill, finishing inside Lia's creamy pussy. She's not completely inconsiderate, making sure to pull the girl's panties and leggings back up to help prevent leakage whilst she finishes cooking.

Ryujin's in the middle of a phone call? Yeji uses the girl's free hand to palm her own cock through her shorts, letting Ryu know what she wants. With a devilish grin, the younger girl looks up to her leader, feeling her bulge grow as she rubs the outline. Yeji pauses these ministrations to pull her pants off, her cock springing free. "Stroke it for me" she mouths silently, as if Ryujin didn't plan on doing that already.

Ryu distractedly continues with her conversation. Who was she even on the phone with? Honestly it didn't matter to Yeji. All she cared about was the feeling of Ryujin's hand wrapped around her cock, pumping up and down at a rapid pace. Both girls helped contribute spit to the handjob. Ryujin when she was on the listening end of her phone call, and Yeji when she felt it could be a little sloppier. When Ryujin notices the older girls balls tighten and sees her eyelids start to flutter, she directs her cock towards her own chest, letting Yeji nut all over her tits. Satisfied, Yeji then walks away leaving Ryujin sitting there like a used sex toy. She hurriedly finds an excuse to end the phone call, and runs to the bathroom to use Yeji's cum as lube to stroke herself off.

Chareyeong asleep in the middle of the night? Well Yeji's having a hard time falling asleep after seeing Chae's ass imprint through the blanket. Two layers get peeled to the side: firstly the blanket, secondly the sleeping girl's cute panties. Yeji groans at the sight of Chaeryeong's juicy peach, straddling it from on top. Growing impatient, she lines up her cock and pushes deep. The poor girl abruptly wakes up to the feeling of getting her cheeks clapped. Moaning into her pillow, she takes it like a good little slut.

Yeji continues giving her backshots, railing Chae's pussy until the pleasure surges over. Without slowing down, she pumps the younger girl full of cum, feeling those walls tightening around her cock simultaenously. Still sheathed inside, Yeji rolls the girl over so that they're both laying on their sides. "I'm not gonna pull out okay? Keep my cock warm while we sleep" she says as she pulls Chaeryeong in to cuddle her closer.

Yuna trying to take a leak? Yeji will barge in, lock the door behind them and stand next to poor Yuna sitting on the toilet. "Can't it wait Unnie? I really have to go...". Yeji pulls her dick out and slaps Yuna in the face with it. "I'm not stopping you from going, so go" she says, before shoving it in Yuna's hot mouth. Desperate to empty her bladder, Yuna does as she's told and starts pissing, the warm stream splashing out of her pussy as her leader fucks her in the mouth.

Long after Yuna finishes pissing, Yeji finishes in a different way, pulling out of that wet mouth and jerking herself off over Yuna's entire body, making sure spurts of cum land on Yuna's face (who sticks her tongue out like a good girl), her perky tits, and her belly. "Don't move, I've needed to go this whole time too" and with that, Yeji takes a step back and starts pissing on her maknae. Aiming at her face, she splashes Yuna with her warmth, making her way down to her tits and eventually to her clit. All of Yeji's cum and piss runs down the length of Yuna's body, trailing off her pussy down into the toilet below.

Lucky the shower is just a few feet away... Yeji instructs the girl (dripping with her fluids) to hop in the shower with her to clean up. Hot water runs, steam fills the room, and as expected, seeing Yuna's soapy lithe body makes the leader hard again. You already know what happens next. She's Hwang Yeji, and if she wants it, she'll have it.

A/N:Btw this is the first smut that I've ever posted, it's sloppy (heh) but I have a lot partially finished (both short-form stuff like this but also more cohesive actual pieces) in the backrooms aka my notepad so if I'm feeling productive in a degenerate kind of way then those works will eventually see the light of day.