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#just press play and let it wash over you
cntloup · 2 months
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18+ MDNI
imagine you're just chilling with simon on the couch watching trash tv while his hands rest on your waist
but one hand starts to drift lower and lower into your panties and his rough fingers begin to lazily toy with your clit, pinching and circling the sensitive bud
and his other hand trails higher under your shirt, playing with your boobs, kneading the soft flesh
you're just so warm and soft he can't help it :(
all the while his lips are pressed to your ear, cooing praises like "You're so pretty, baby... so soft... such a good girl f'me... jus' sittin' back and lettin' me play with you."
and now you're all worked up and whimpering, leaning closer into his touch
your pretty pussy all wet with your slick, begging to be filled up :(
and he rewards you by inserting two thick fingers into your weeping cunt
"Simon!" you gasp as he rolls and twists his calloused fingers against your sensitive sticky walls
he scissors his fingers inside you, making your sopping pussy squelch
your cheeks start to heat up at the sound
but soon the combination of his hand on your breasts, rough fingers rolling your perky pretty nipples between them and the pumping of his fingers inside your tight wet pussy makes your brain all foggy
and you're too far gone to care as your slick walls start to tighten around his fingers
"let go, baby. cum f'me." he murmurs while picking up the pace
and the all-consuming wave of your orgasm washes over you with a loud moan as your milky white cream coats his fingers
and he licks them clean off your juices
then brings his fingers to your lips and you lick the mix of your cum and his saliva off his fingers
i need him so bad it's not a joke anymore :(
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tojisun · 2 months
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simon grunts, his chest heaving as he palms at his chub, tracing the twitching muscle of his cock and letting out a hiss at the muted pleasure that razes through him. he shivers at the heated look you give him, your pretty eyes awash with desire, scalding as it trails down the lines of his bulk until it settles on his flesh.
“ah,” you whisper and simon nearly moans at the awe in your voice.
“s’right, baby,” he says, feeling the way he pulses underneath his low-hanging sweats. “s’all f’r you.”
there is a whine that drags itself from the base of your throat, so primal in the way it scratches your vocal cords, and simon has to fist his cock to stop himself from rutting against his palm.
“i can’t,” you whine, pouting, your eyes still trained on his groin. “‘m gonna be late for work.”
“please,” he croaks out, breathless himself. “how about jus’ the tip, love? jus’ give daddy a taste of you ‘round me, yeah?”
simon knows it is playing dirty to pull this card on you—to exploit your one weakness—but simon’s guilt is tucked underneath his stretching need, the desire bloating as it leaks past his rationality, leaving him with thinning restraints.
your sharp inhale is all the answer he needs.
he bites the inside of his cheek to tamp down the smirk dancing to the corners of his lips.
“okay,” you reply, tentative and quiet. “but just the tip, you promise?”
“swear,” simon murmurs.
like a goddamn liar.
he relishes in the squeals dripping from your parted lips, only for them to be muffled into your pillow.
he’s got you on your knees, your front all but pressed flat on the bed, your arms having lost the energy to keep yourself up as simon fucks you from the back. he’s got fistfuls of your ass, using them as sweet, sweet leverage as he manhandles your body back to his cock.
“so good f’r daddy, sweet’art,” he rumbles, his voice so deep it even sounds foreign to him. “so, so fuckin’ good, love.”
he punctuates his words with hard thrusts; drawing his cock out slowly, deliberately torturous so he can watch the way your hole grips at his cock, not wanting to let him go, before punching it back in. he doesn’t stop and keeps pushing his cock past the gummy press of your walls until his hips are pressed flush to the fat of your ass.
then, he repeats the process—sharp snaps of his hips leaving you twitching, and simon watches with a crazed giddiness as your hands uselessly scratch at the sheets as though that could tether you.
he bends forward, his bulk covering your trembling body. “such a cute darlin’ for me, lovie.” he ruts his cock along a particular sweet spot. “say ‘thank you’ to daddy?”
he hears a warbled reply from where your head is pressed to your pillow.
“hmm? wha’s ‘at?”
simon cups a hand on your forehead and carefully pulls, tipping your head up just enough that he can hear you.
he hears a hiccuped sob, then, “than’ you, daddy.”
simon giggles and presses a kiss on the back of your head. “what a good doll y’are.”
something about that makes your body tremble, spasming in his hold, and simon watches with awe as your toes curl, before he has to let go of you at the sudden tightening of your walls. his eyes go white, his ears ringing with a sharp static.
he feels so, so overwhelmed at the expanding euphoria that washes over him, lapping at the synapses from the back of his skull to the cavity of his ribs.
“you came,” simon mutters in awe, his voice passing through his teeth like a gritted hiss. “christ, lovie-”
-
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satorena · 5 months
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❝ 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐄 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐘 𝐎𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐀 ! ❞
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꒰ 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
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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.”
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yes, gojo was the generous donator on geto’s live stream. pervert
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nighttimenothings · 2 months
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thinking about slow saturdays. edging my girl all day—fleeting looks and lingering touches. in the morning, touching you gently over your panties while we're tangled up in bed, waiting till your hips are rolling and you're whimpering before stopping.
later during lunch, keeping my hand high up on your thigh, thumb stroking slowly, so close, yet nowhere near where you want me to be. you like that, baby?
in the afternoon, we're on the couch, a movie playing on the tv, but neither one of us is really paying attention because i've got two fingers thrusting slowly in your cunt and my other hand pinching and tugging at your nipples. you're soft little moans become more and more desperate as i bring you close to the edge. and right before you're about to come, i stop. that's my girl. just one more. can you hold on for me?
we're cooking dinner together, i'm stealing kisses, hands trailing over your stomach, waist, and hips. you giggle and tell me i'm distracting you, and i laugh because this is nowhere near distracting.
during dinner, i can see you squirm in your chair when i nudge my foot against your leg. i raise a brow and you flush. you're so easy to fluster, sweetheart. i adore how pink your cheeks are and how shy you get.
cleaning up is simple. you wash and i dry, but today i can't help but stop, stepping up close behind you, pressing you against the counter and sneaking a hand down your panties again. your slick has already leaked all over your thighs and my fingers glide frictionlessly.
i'm touching and tasting, licking and leaving kisses all over your neck. you're so pretty, baby. i love seeing you like this. thank you for being so good for me. my hands are everywhere and i can't stop touching. soon enough, you've given up on the dishes and we're now facing each other.
fingers or mouth, baby? you're voice is breathy and high when you tell me you want both. greedy girl. but you've been so good for me, so i'll give you everything—i'll make sure you can't stand by the time i finish with you.
i get on my knees and i pull down your pants, panties coming off too. there's a string of slick that sticks to your panties and i groan at the sight of it. good god, you're dripping and making a mess everywhere. let me clean you up.
you taste so good. you're thrusting and gasping, fingers threaded in my hair. i have my hands wrapped around your thighs, keeping you up as your thighs start to shake and your slickness continues to drip. the sound is obscene, the steady squelch of my tongue in your cunt, my lips sucking your clit.
you beg for my fingers and i oblige, immediately giving you two. you're getting close—i can tell. your breaths come out strangled and your eyes are bleary and unfocused. can you wait, baby? hold on for just a little longer for me? you're so close to crying, i can see the tears clinging to your eyelashes and can hear the way your voice cracks. you tell me you can—that you wanna be good for me.
i add another finger—you whine, high and desperate—and i lick your folds gently. so perfect, so good. that's it. finally, when i know you've reached your limit, i curl my fingers and suck your clit. come for me, baby. you've been so good for me.
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boowritess · 28 days
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very mild 18+ simon riley x reader
lmaoo i can't breathe Simon Riley is just a man.
atleast to you.
when he's home, all he is to you is dry humor, a couple beers every night, sat in front of the tv on his spot on the couch, the game is playing - some soccor or rugby match. he doesn't wear his mask, his clothes are a simple t-shirt and some pair of shorts he just threw on.
he uses your shampoo and conditioner, as much as it pisses you off because it's expensive and for some reason he uses half the fucking bottle everytime he's home, but when he does the groceries he still comes home with '2 in 1 shampoo and conditioner' he would’ve got the '3 in 1' but the last time he did that he got no head for 3 weeks.
he'll go to the pub, take you out, pushes the trolley, holds your bag, let's you dress how you want it, belly gets a little soft because he eats food like he's never ate before, buy you anything you want even after the 'do you really need it though?' talk.
he's bit lazy on workouts only goes on the occasional run, but will fuck you whenever you want; always vanilla and only gets rough when you ask.
he will say he'll fix whatever appliance needs tending too but won't do it right away, starts the occasional handyman job at odd times.
it's just - he's so mundane and normal that you'd never know just how dangerous he is ???? like he so carefully hides that side from you. seriously. when he's home, he throws his gear in the bottom of his closet in a box, locking Ghost away and just existing as Simon.
even when the rest of the task force come around on the occasion. they're so normal and are just... men. yelling at the tv during a sport match. teasing each other. stealing snacks and helping with cleaning. they never speak about work and when you ask them, it's always a smile and shrug, "just another day really." "little boring and slow." "oh not too bad." their answers are so half-assed, that you don't even ask anymore; which is what they want.
but you really aren't missing anything. not when you don't even know what you're missing out on.
it's crazy, because he even keeps Ghost hidden when you're being harassed by men. whether that be when you're shopping or just going for a walk.
he'll loop an arm around your waist or over your shoulder, look at the guy with a grin - that's more of a sneer, "can i help you, mate?" he'll drawl. his stature and stare is enough to make the man who had been harassing you back off.
"what a freak..." you mutter with a roll of your eyes, letting Simon guide you away as he presses a kiss to your temple, a deep chuckle leaving him.
around midnight you wake up to Simon in the laundry room washing his hands. he doesn't blink or hesitate when you wonder in and wrap your arms around his waist. "what're you doing?" you mumble, sleepy eyss dropping to the sink.
Simon's hands are red, and you would be alarmed, should be alarmed. but how could you when Simon hums softly, a sound that rumbles deep from his throat, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head. he's so warm and casual that you don't even do a touble take seeing the blood.
"caught a rat. right pest they are. the trap i set snapped it clean in half." Simon's mutters, he raises a bloodied hand to you, sniggering when you crinkle your nose up in disgust and step away from him.
"ew, i'm going back to bed." you huff, yawning and leaving him to what he was doing.
Simon laughs softly as you head off. "just be a sec, love." he says as you go. all he receives is a yawn and a tired 'mhm'.
he cleans his hands and then his phone chimes. he pulls it out and it's a private message.
'getting rid of your pest now, LT.'
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Simon opens the picture and sure enough there's the man from earlier in the boot of a car. all bloodied like Ghost left him.
Simon heads back upstairs to your shared room, you quietly snoozing away. you don't steer or wake as the closet door opens and Simon's putting his mask back in with his gear. No. Ghost is too quiet to let you wake from such a warm and sweet sleep.
he turns from the closet after putting everything away and changing clothes. he crawls into his side of the bed and wraps his arms around you. letting your body nestle back into his side. limbs tangling together.
just you and your simon.
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a/n: inspired by a tik tok video on how he is just a man lmaooo
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saddestsquid · 2 months
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König & his demonic back shots are plaguing my thoughts 😣😣
Warnings: 18+, this is pure filth so like yeah🤨 König x female reader, p in v, just a short blurb ୨୧
Cause I know damn well this man would give the FILTHIEST back shots. Like you feel like your being resurrected every time he slams you onto his cock.
“Maus- oh fuuuuck…” He groaned, drilling into you with so much force the bed shook.
You were moaning and screaming into the pillow, your backside being held up completely by him. He manhandled you on his cock like a doll, mindlessly slamming into your cunt over and over like he was trying to fuck the demons right out of his body.
He reached down and circled your waist, holding you up with just one arm. With his free hand he rubbed at your clit, always making sure you feel good no matter how pussy-drunk he is. The man is just so big—it feels like he’s everywhere. If you didn’t know any better you’d assume he was reaching all the way down to your throat. The slight pain of him slamming into your cervix overwhelmed your senses and heightened the pleasure along with the feeling of him playing with your clit. You doubted either of you were making it there after this but you could have swore you saw a flash of heavens gates every time he plunged into you.
He spread your legs wider and angled his thrusts to meet that spongey spot inside you every time his pelvis met your ass with an audible slap ! Even the sound of the headboard slamming into the wall wasn’t enough to drown out both your noises. This was definitely gonna earn you a noise complaint—tho it was worth it for the mind blowing orgasm that washed over you when that coil in your stomach finally snapped.
You came all over his cock, leaving a sticky white ring around the base of it that he couldn’t keep his eyes off of every time he slid his thick cock in and out again. With a pathetic whimper you never thought you’d hear come out of a man of his size, he pressed into you as deep as your body would let him and came hard. 
So much of his seed was stuffed inside you that it began to flow out, dripping all over both of your thighs. Before you could complain, he collapsed on top of you, crushing you with his weight. It felt like being stuck under a city bus, but you just sighed and let him have this one.
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strawberryjelliez · 2 months
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Period tits | Geto x Reader
contains: soft nsfw, breast admiration, tit kissing
Suguru knew not to touch. But that didn’t stop him from making it known that he was staring.
He always admired how full and round your tits became when your time of the month wrapped back around. They were just begging to be sucked on and played with.
Of course, he loves your tits in any way shape or form, but something about the way your period made them glow almost have him loosing control and wanting to massage them with those large hands of his if it weren’t for how sore they got. He found that out once when you stepped out of the shower and he tried to cop a feel, only to get his hand swat away by you.
Instead, he settles for just staring at them lovingly. And making it blatantly obvious that if he could, he would do all kinds of things to your tits if you just allowed him to.
“The least you could do is let me kiss them.” Suguru looks over to you from your shared bed, watching your boobs bounce slightly as you take off your bra after a long day of errands.
“Fuuuuckk that feels good. And no, you can’t, knowing you, you’ll get carried away.”
Suguru smirks.
“Oh sweet girl, you know me too well. I can’t help myself, your tits are beautiful, especially in the state they are right now. Just wanna put my mouth on them and watch pleasure wash over my sweethearts pretty face.”
You roll your eyes, smiling at Suguru. You take off your pants and throw on a baggy t-shirt, something comfy enough to crawl into bed with Suguru and call it a night. He pulls up the comforter, inviting you in next to him, which you easily accept. Your back rests against the headboard of your bed, his sweet face looking up at you as you lift your shirt up.
“Sugu.. if you’re gentle, I’ll let you kiss my tits… but do not touch them, they fucking hurt.”
Suguru’s eyebrows raise in amusement at the sight of them sitting there ready to be touched by him.
“You’re being generous enough to let me now? Thank you love, I promise, I’ll be gentle.”
And with that, Suguru’s right hand finds a resting place on your waist, pulling himself closer up to you. His lips got to work gently, pressing soft kisses down your cleavage followed by his tongue leaving a trail of his saliva. You lean your head back at the feeling of being completely relaxed by his kisses.
Should have let him do this sooner.
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erwinsvow · 2 months
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Imagine if Rafe let R try a joint
Like, her brains getting all fuzzy and she's even more giggly than usual, and he's just, like enamoured. He thinks she's adorable.
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"one hit, that's it-" rafe says, low and quiet in your ear.
you're curled up on his lap at the party, both of you resting on the couch while you observe the scene around you with big eyes. rafe's friends were snorting powder off of mirrors, washing it down with liquor that was definitely harder than the fruity seltzer your boyfriend allowed you to drink. rafe said you couldn't handle anything harder, and you agreed without questioning him, like you always did.
you had pointed to the white lines on the table infront of you and asked him as sweetly as you could if you could try some. kelce overheard you and starts pushing the mirror in your direction, and you look at him with a smile, before rafe stares him down and delivers a tap to your cheek. it's just to get your attention, not really to hurt you, but you feel your face flushing where he touched you when he speaks.
"hey, you don't listen to him, you listen to me, right?" you see kelce in the corner of your eye, taking the tray back and offering it to the girl next to him.
"i know, i just-"
"no, no just anything. y'can barely drink this watered-down crap without trippin' over your feet." he rests back on the sofa, hands gripping your waist and leg tightly. "wants to snort coke. you're funny, kid."
you pout, taking another sip of your drink. you're only half way through the can but your head is starting to feel fuzzy, already. you decide then and there that rafe always knows best for you, but you still want to try the things he tries, show him that you can handle it. the boys next to rafe pass a blunt over you, directly to him. when they blow out the smoke, you start coughing, but watch carefully as your boyfriend takes a long hit. just as he's about to pass it across to kelce, you catch his wrist.
"can i try that instead? please?" you try your best to straighten up, to show him you can take it and that you're not already drunk. "please," you whine, and his friends turn their head to look. you're sure that they think it's silly, the way you have to ask rafe for permission for everything and anything. you don't care, though.
"kid, stop-"
"i can take it, promise. just this time. i won't ever ask again."
that's how you had ended up like this, rafe talking into your ear while he holds the blunt to your lips.
"alright, suck in. long as you can. you're a pro at that, aren't ya?" his words make you lose your concentration, breaking into a coughing fit before you can even try to inhale.
"rafe!" you whine again, pummeling your fists into his chest, still choking on the smoke. your throat feels scratchy but you know that couldn't have been enough.
"what, kid, i gotta do everything for you?" he takes a long hit, and then grips your cheeks with his hand, forcing your mouth open and then blowing the smoke into your throat for you. then he clamps it shut, holds your shoulder while you cough, and passes the blunt along to kelce.
you cough a little, but before long, you're putty in his arms, leaning your head against his shoulder and giggling at nothing. you poke at his chest and then start playing with his chain, then his hair, and then back down to his fingers. he lets you do it, watching you play with his ring and pressing a kiss to your forehead. you're cute like this, he thinks, less shy and not as worried what everyone must think about you. he thinks he likes it, that maybe he should let you smoke with him every once in a while.
"feel good, baby?" he asks in your ear, and you squirm in his touch, pulling away before resting your head again.
"mhm. really good. this is fun. wish it wasn't a crime." he laughs, taking another sip of his beer. you try to copy him, reaching for your seltzer but knocking it over by accident.
"oops," you say with another laugh. "sorry to-wait, whose house is this?"
"c'mon kid, makin' a mess," he groans, picking up the can and watching the fizzy liquid travel.
"sorry, daddy." in your state, you don't realize how loud you said it, but even with everyone's eyes on you, you don't care much, smiling back sweetly at rafe.
"alright, we're leavin'."
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uzurakis · 14 days
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THEIR ACT OF INTIMACY!
featuring: geto suguru. megumi fushiguro. itadori yuuji. nanami kento.
n. a sign of them being very comfortable with you. slighty suggestive in itadori’s part. PART 2 HERE :0
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GETO SUGURU. suguru finds it aggravating when the others try to mess up his hair, with the exception of you. after the relationship evolved, you'd sit on the bed with him after he showered and brush the large tangles out of his hair. other times, you might put it up in a bun or another style when he isn't looking. you spend that quiet time talking and enjoying one other's company.
in the quiet of your shared space, suguru sat on the edge of the bed, fresh from the shower, his damp hair a tangle of knots. you approached him with a gentle smile, brush in hand. “you know the rule," suguru said with a hint of playfulness, though his eyes softened at the sight of you. “i know, i know," you replied, taking a seat beside him. "this is a condition comes with me being your girlfriend. i got to brush your hair and you get to play mine.”
as you carefully detangled his hair, the room filled with the sound of your voices, sharing stories and laughter. with each stroke of the brush, suguru felt a sense of calm wash over him, grateful for this quiet moment with you.
once his hair was finally smooth and manageable, you surprised him by styling it into a loose bun, eliciting a surprised gasp from suguru as he caught sight of his reflection. “you did it again, didn't you?" he said, pretending to scold you, though his eyes twinkled with affection. you simply smiled and leaned in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. "i can't help it. i love making you look even more handsome."
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ITADORI YUUJI. itadori enjoys lying and lounging about naked together. it feels like complete vulnerability, with no walls between you, resyncing your relationship as you melt into each other's body. he has a habit of writing something on your skin as a game in which you have to guess what he wrote down. other times, he simply likes to nap in the afternoon while you tell him a story in bed.
lounging comfortably in your bed, naked and unguarded, itadori traced lazy patterns on your skin with his touch sending shivers down your spine. "guess what i wrote this time," he whispered, his finger leaving a trail of invisible words on your back. you chuckled softly, leaning into his touch. "hmm, let me think..."
as you concentrated, trying to decipher his secret message, itadori pressed a kiss to your shoulder, his warmth enveloping you entirely. then finally, you ventured a guess, feeling his smile against your skin as you spoke the words aloud.
"wrong," he teased, his laughter mingling with yours. “you gotta get it right next time, babe. or else i’ll bite your thighs again.”
with each lighthearted round of the game, the barriers between you appeared to dissolve, leaving only the raw, unfiltered connection to be felt.
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MEGUMI FUSHIGURO. megumi has a difficult time opening up to others, and you were the one who showed him that it is acceptable to talk about what he feels together. you understood that him speaking meaningful words in a serious manner to you puts a toll on his ego; not that he doesn’t care, he just wasn't used to it. what surprises you is how effortlessly he drops those words only in the spur of the moment, as if he hasn't been fighting to say them all along. he also brings up topics you've already discussed and gives every single penny of thought to conversations that deepen feelings between the both of you.
in the quiet of the evening, megumi sat beside you, his expression guarded as always. you both were doing your homework together and then, in a moment that took you by surprise, he spoke, his words flowing effortlessly.
"i care about you," he said softly, his eyes meeting yours with a depth of emotion that took your breath away. "more than i can put into words."
"why so suddenly?" you asked, surprised by the unexpected confession. the man paused, his expression earnest as he searched for the right words. "i.. just feel you need to hear them from me." he replied, his voice gentle yet resolute. “sorry..”
you could feel your heart swelling with emotion, touched by the sincerity in his words. "thank you, i care about you too, ‘gumi” you whispered, feeling the weight of his feelings enveloping you like a warm embrace. "i like it when you talk about what you're feeling, you know.” you said gently, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from his face.
you knew that megumi's words had transcended the barriers he had once struggled to break through. and as you leaned in to press a tender kiss to his lips, you realized that sometimes, the most meaningful words are the ones spoken from the heart, even if they come unexpectedly.
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NANAMI KENTO. nanami believes there is nothing better than a massage after a long and tiring day. he believes that the best massages are those that he earns without having to ask for them; you just knew he needed one and vice versa.
nanami trudged through the door, weary from the demands of the day. you greeted him with a warm smile, sensing the weight on his shoulders without a word spoken. "rough day?" you asked, already moving towards him with a knowing look. nanami nodded, sinking into their embrace. "you have no idea."
without hesitation, you guided him to the couch and began to knead away the tension that had settled in his muscles. "this is exactly what i needed," the man sighed, feeling the knots slowly unraveling beneath your touch.
you smiled softly, your fingers working with practiced ease. "i could tell. you always carry so much on your shoulders."
as the stress of the day melted away, he found himself falling even more deeply in love with the one who cared for him so effortlessly.
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@uzurakis
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ieirism · 8 months
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intertwined. | preview
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pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader
setting: omegaverse!au, university!au
genre: angst, smut, some fluff
contains: yandere, estranged childhood friends to enemies to lovers, mentions of self-identity issues, dubious consent, obsessive behavior, loss of virginity, mutual(ish) pining, gojo is bad at expressing his feelings so he’s kinda a jerk, lovesick!gojo
summary: you just want to lose your virginity, no strings attached. how could you have known that gojo satoru is in love with you?
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
release date: tbd | ask for taglist if interested
-
“I want you to take my virginity.”
Satoru’s cocky grin wipes clean off his face. His stare goes blank and his jaw drops open comically wide. For the first time in the twenty-one years you’ve known him, Gojo Satoru is at a loss for words.
“We never have to talk again afterwards,” you add quickly, your cheeks starting to heat up in embarrassment. “This is just gonna be a one-time thing.”
Satoru is silent, expression tense as he observes you carefully. His crystal blue eyes seem to darken a few shades as he takes your hand in his. His thumb strokes once, slowly over the back of your knuckles.
“Just a one-time thing,” he repeats languidly, lips stretching into a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
Perhaps if you weren’t so focused on the rapid, frantic beating of your own heart, you would’ve noticed Satoru’s gaze wander—only to lock right on the clear patch stubbornly covering your neck’s scent gland. You would’ve seen the way his pupils dilate and his tongue swipes over his lips, with hunger written all over his face.
“Well then,” he all but rasps out, voice thick with desire. Without warning, he pulls your body against his with ease, trapping you in the warmth of his arms. Satoru rests his forehead against yours, letting out a groan that is too soft, too vulnerable, too intimate.
He’s so big, you realize. You can hardly believe that you once stood a whole head taller than him. Satoru towers over you, his lean frame completely dwarfing you. His large hands squeeze at your waist as he presses a barely-there, tender peck to your forehead.
You feel like you can’t breathe.
“I hope you know what you’ve gotten yourself into, sweetheart.”
You’ve heard stories about what he’s like in bed; it’s inevitable that as the most desired alpha on campus, he’s gotten around. You don’t expect tenderness or care; if you did, Gojo Satoru is the dead last person to approach. You’re waiting for him to start man-handling you, tearing your clothes off, chasing after the carnal pleasure that only sex can bring. You’ve prepared yourself for that.
Instead, Satoru cups your pretty face between his large hands, running his thumb along your cheekbone. His blue eyes are a swirling pool of emotions, burning with not only lust but something deeper. “Been waitin’ so long for this.” His hushed whisper falls on deaf ears as he leans in to kiss you.
You let out a surprised squeak as his lips press against yours; this isn’t how things are supposed to go. You’re not here to play romance with Satoru—yet, the slow gentle kisses he’s giving you and the gentleness with which he’s holding you are cutting it too close.
“W-Wait,” you gasp out, pulling away to catch your breath. Satoru is panting too, cheeks flushed pink as he stares at you like a man dying of thirst discovering an oasis. His hand trails down your side to rest on your waist, pulling himself forward so he can drop his head against your shoulder. “What are y—“ your words die in your throat as you feel his nose nudge against the most vulnerable part of you.
“You smell so fuckin’ good…” His groan against your neck reverberates through your entire body, shaking you to your very core. Your internal alarm flares to life, blaring loudly in warning. You can’t even pay much attention to that, though, not when—
“Y-You do, too…” The words leave you before you can even process them. You knees feel like jelly as his scent washes over you, deep, musky and addicting. Satoru stiffens against you, huffing out a short breath of frustration.
“You’re gonna kill me.” You feel it. You feel his teeth scrape against the spot your mating bond would be. Satoru knows just as well as you do that you don’t have one, and that if you had things your way, that would never change. He teases the edge of the bandage covering your scent gland, rolling it between his teeth. Your fingers curl into his shirt, tugging nervously.
“N-Not there,” you protest, stumbling over your words in panic. Satoru pauses, and for three very long seconds, neither of you move. The only thing you can hear the is the pounding of your own heartbeat, his shallow pants against your neck, and the hum of the air conditioning.
He’s close, too close—you’re terrified of what he’s capable of, only because you don’t know if you can count on your own willpower to stop him. You’re slowly going limp in his arms, becoming nothing but putty in between his fingers—you’ve never felt so weak.
You hate how he makes you feel. You’ve always hated how he makes you feel. Weak. The world has always told you that you are. You’re nothing but a little omega whose only fate is to be a strong alpha’s obedient mate. You’ve fought back, resisted, protested—yet, Gojo Satoru has always managed to put you right back in your place.
This time is no different. Once again, you find yourself at his mercy. Your stomach boils with bitterness, with anger, with hatred… with longing.
Too slowly, he pulls away from your neck, only to lock eyes with you. “Right.” Satoru’s lips quirk into a crooked grin. “This is just a one-time thing, huh?”
You recognize that smile.
It’s the one that Satoru gave when he broke his mama’s favorite vase and blamed the cat. It’s the one that Satoru gave when he stole a candy bar from the store and got caught by the cashier. It’s the one that Satoru gave when he claimed you were no more than a stranger and left you to fend for yourself through high school.
He’s lying.
Far too late, you realize you’d made a big mistake.
-
author’s note: i can’t even lie this little word vomit was just a way to get some gojo thirst off my chest. i’m not even sure if i’ll ever get around to writing a full fic because i’ve been planning this in my head for weeks and there’s so much i want to include. yet i have too little time because of uni :(
if you are interested in being part of a taglist just in case i ever actually get around to writing the full fic, just let me know in the replies.
thank you for reading this far :)
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justporo · 22 days
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So you'll see tomorrow
A/N: Seeing a beautiful piece of artwork by @velnna and listening to Half life by Livingston I got a very angsty idea for a drabble (so be warned, it's sad). This idea came to me first a while back listening to Just a Man (you know from *that* BG3 edit). @velnna as always thanks for letting me play with your son - and sorry I hurt him... Also thank you to Dad on Maf's discord server for the inspo for the final line.
Warnings: implied character death (but this is just an alternate timeline ok??), self sacrifice
~~~
So this was it.
This is how they would all die.
There was no way they would defeat the Netherbrain. All their endeavours that led them here, all for naught. Unless…
Staeve saw it in his eyes first. How their expression changed from swimming and hopeless to hardened and determined. Astarion’s brows drew together - the crease they created between them as sharp as his daggers he lifted up once more.
“Staeve.”
He had never heard his voice like this. The tone as sharp as a knife and hard as rock.
It scared him.
“I’m going to create an opening for you. Be ready.”
Fear dug its claws into Staeve’s throat, choking him, as he began to realise what was about to happen.
“No,” the half-drow whispered, weakly grabbing for his lover’s wrists with all of his remaining strength.
“Astarion, no! You can’t do this!”
Panic gave Staeve new power. Helped him to forcefully turn Astarion around to him. Helped him make his love stare into his eyes as he screamed at him again. And again.
He shook him, even making the daggers drop from his pale, blood-speckled fingers.
Staeve kept screaming, feeling his voice become hoarse, hot streams of tears washing away the grime and gore as they made their way down his face.
But as he kept throwing everything at Astarion he noticed ruby eyes remaining hard and unfaltering. The decision had been made.
The last of his strength went with his last drop of hope as Staeve’s hands fell weakly from Astarion’s. His legs gave up, knees hit the ground hard.
And only then did Astarion shift, taking a final step back before making the run-up.
He dropped down in front of Staeve who could only stare up at him anymore.
“Let me do this one thing right, Staeve,” he whispered solemnly, cupping his love’s face. “Just this once let me make things right.”
Staeve’s vision was blurred, his head swimming. But he still clearly saw the warmth in Astarion’s eyes as he leaned his forehead to Staeve’s.
Astarion’s hand wandered to the nape of his neck as he pressed his eyes closed. “Promise me, you’ll live for me, Staeve. To the fullest.” When the vampire opened his eyes again, Staeve was sure there were tears in Astarion’s eyes as well.
There was nothing in Staeve to do or say. He wasn’t in control of anything anymore it felt like. Not even his own body as he solely kept listening to Astarion’s final words.
“And promise me,” the vampire continued, voice breaking, “sometimes - when you sit in the sun - you’ll think of me, Staeve. Promise me.”
Astarion only waited only long enough for Staeve to weakly nod, seemingly the only thing he was still capable of.
Then he crushed his mouth to his lover’s, the motion so forceful their teeth crashed together.
Desperation had them kiss so hard it hurt, that it felt like perishing already. Astarion’s hand on Staeve’s neck pressed down so hard it felt like bones might crush. A single last breath was passed between them as their lips moved against each other as they tried to make this the most vivid moment they had ever experienced.
One so he could never possibly forget this final kiss - how it had felt.
The other so he would go to his end, with the taste of his lover on his lips.
When a small eternity ended and Astarion broke away he grabbed Staeve’s face a final time.
“I know in another life, I would have loved you forever,” Astarion uttered with a smile.
Then he let go, Staeve almost toppling over, suddenly void of anything still lifting him up.
Astarion grabbed his daggers, turned around with a last glance and a smirk - and then he leapt.
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propertyofwicked · 24 days
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YOUR NECKLACE - LN
no warnings just fluff + some SMAU <3 (one mention of sick, no specific detail)
-> lemme know ur thoughts! my inbox is open!! <3
masterlist the playlist
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after successfully keeping their relationship secret for 9 months, lando truly believed it was time for him to properly introduce his girlfriend to the world of motorsport. she’d attended races before but always under general admission, usually alone, but sometimes accompanied by the likes of max and p. and it wasn’t as if the fans didn’t know who she was, they just knew her as ‘y/n who works with quadrant’, ‘y/n that reset the cones in the driving video’, ‘y/n that keeps her social media private’ - never once being considered lando’s girlfriend, which worked well for the two.
the panic had set in that morning as she dressed for the day, her hands constantly running over her outfit, checking the way she looked in the mirror from every angle - she wanted to believe that no one would care, or even notice that she was there, but deep down she knew that making the jump from general admission to paddock would gain some chatter on twitter.
“you look perfect,” lando had whispered in her ear from behind her, his hands wrapping around her waist as he tugged her away from the mirror.
“maybe they’ll just think im helping with a quadrant project,” she said absentmindedly, more trying to convince herself than actually respond to him.
“maybe,” he nodded along with her, mulling over his next words, “we can walk in separately if you want? they might not assume anything if they don’t see us together?”
“it’s not that i dont want us to be seen together,” she told him as she moved to the floor, tying her shoelaces up, “i just hate to think what’ll be said about me if they do.”
“i know, angel,” he reassured her, offering out a hand to pull her up, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead when she returned to his level.
the journey to the track was a quiet one, the two of them engaging in light conversation, eventually deciding they’d just walk in together, keep PDA to the minimum and ‘run and hide at the first sign of trouble’ y/n had joked.
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lando paced up and down his drivers room, the sleeves of his racing overalls swinging with every step, from where they sat around his hips. he was getting into the right mindset, music playing, and yet his mind raced with every fear of the looming race.
“sit in the garage,” he asked her, halting his pacing to turn and face her.
“what?” she replied, half unsure she’d misheard him.
“watch from the garage - please,” he repeated moving to take steps towards her, noticing the way her fingers twisted at the rings that adorned them.
“are you sure?” she checked, as he grabbed her wrists to stop her anxious fiddling.
“never been more sure in my life,” he told her, using her arms to pull himself closer, joining the two of them in a sweet kiss.
“ok, ill be there,” y/n responded against him, parting only for a moment before connecting their lips again. the kiss was short and sweet, cut off by oscar knocking telling him it was time to go.
she stood in the garage, smiling at a few engineers she recognised before finding herself a seat. the nerves were washing over her again, but now they were for lando. y/n always worried during races, scared on his crashing, worried he wouldn’t perform as well as everyone knew he could. her hand reached up to her chest, instinctively searching for her necklace - lando had bought it for her before they were even together, knowing from the moment she smiled at it and looked up to thank him that this was it for him, she was his future. but the necklace wasn’t there, the girl panicked slightly, fearing she had lost it or it had fallen off before concluding that in her distraction this morning she had simply forgotten to put it on.
that’s ok, you’re a grown woman who can control her nerves. you don’t need a necklace to calm yourself down - you’re not even the one racing she told herself, letting out a deep sigh as she tried to believe herself. no one else in the garage seemed to notice her, a fact she was fairly happy about, hoping that the same would be said for the hundreds of news and tv stations priming their cameras for the race.
but someone had noticed her, recognising the look on her face as the same one she had been wearing all morning. only lando could decipher what her expression meant - she was nervous, of course, scared for him, but also filled with a small buzz of excitement - he couldn’t quite understand how one person could feel so much all at the same time, and not combust on the spot. nevertheless he jogged over to her.
“lando? aren’t you supposed to be like, getting your helmet on?” she asked him, shocked slightly at his sudden appearance. he looked at her, his hand tugging at the top of his fireproofs and pulling his own necklace from where it was trapped behind the fabric.
“forgot to take this off,” he told her, hands moving behind his neck to unclasp the metal, “will you look after it for me?”
she nodded up at him, her outstretched hands halted as he stood close, hands moving the metal around her own neck and clasping it. the metal dropped against her skin, the warmth from him wearing it transferring to her.
“thanks, love you,” he told her, a rushed kiss planted on her lips before he jogged away from her again.
his face carried a smirk as he left her, knowing he hadn’t truly forgotten to take the piece of jewellery off. in actual fact, he’d noticed her missing necklace the moment they’d arrived at the track and made it his mission to have his own hung around her neck, almost as a badge of honour. the two had agreed to keep their relationship private from the public, somewhat of a secret - but now she sat in his garage, wearing his necklace. it was the bare minimum display of the love they shared, but it was enough for him, and it was enough for her.
oscar quirked his eyebrow at his teammates smirk, receiving a quick tell you later before the two pulled their balaclavas down.
the gesture was so simply and so subtle and the girl was oblivious to the moment being caught on camera. the moment a yellow flag was called, the sky tv cameras filled the wait time by zooming in on the faces of loved ones sitting in each drivers garage. however, y/n remained oblivious to the lens focusing closely on her, the camera closely capturing the way she fiddled at the necklace before dropping it as normal lap conditions resumed.
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"good day then?" y/n asked him softly, her head resting on his bare chest as she listened to his heart beat - lando felt the way her cool fingers fiddled with the necklace around his neck. that godforsaken necklace, quite frankly the only necklace to ever cause so much uproar online.
"soft launched on live tv and p3? i wouldn't have it any other way," lando replied softly, chucking lightly as his hand brushed through her hair.
“that checks out, mr nowins,” she teased, tilting her head to grin at him.
"being with you is a win in itself," he replied, taking the nickname in his stride.
"gross," the girl responded, pretending to vomit at his attempt at being cute.
“i am sorry though - i should’ve known that would happen, i should’ve checked with you before hanging the “lando’s girlfriend” sign around your neck,” he replied with a sigh, his head dropping to press a kiss to her forehead, his cheek resting on her head as they spoke.
“it’s ok lan, i knew there was a possibility of something like this happening,” she replied.
“and it was fairly subtle - we could probably play it off for a little longer,” lando suggested, knowing that neither of them were quite ready to expose the extent of their relationship just yet. at least this had given them the opportunity to be a little more careless with their efforts to hide from the public. they were private, not secret, and lando couldn’t be happier to preserve this part of his personal life for a little longer.
“im just glad we no longer have the responsibility of a big announcement,” she laughed, “god knows we’re both too lazy for that.”
“who’s we?” he grumbled jokingly, “im the one with the public account. besides, im more than hard launched on your page.”
“ah the joys of an ordinary life,” y/n joked, her arms stretching out in feigned bliss, “however i feel like i should steer clear of twitter for a while.”
“that’s probably for the best,” he agreed, his tone saddening slightly at the memory of things he’d seen posted about not only his ex girlfriend, but some of the claims people had already began making about the girl lying below him.
“hey!” she started noticing his change in mood, and pushing her body weight back to look at him, “none of that. today is a good day. trust me, ill take any excuse to get my screentime down.”
“i love you,” he told her, grabbing at her body to pull her back into his embrace, “more than you could imagine.”
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liked by maxfewtrell, team_quadrant and 111,230 others
landonorris soft launching on live tv wasn't enough, time to promote her to the gram
comments on this post have been limited.
maxfewtrell so glad i dont have to worry about slipping up on stream anymore
-> maxfewtrell chat aren't ready for what i have to say.
maxfewtrell 2nd photo is a violationnn - ynpng, pietra.pilao u gonna let this slide?
-> ynpng am i fuck. pietra.pilao we ride at dawn.
-> pietra.pilao omw queen.
-> maxfewtrell run landonorris whilst u still can
-> pietra.pilao you told me you deleted that photo maxfewtrell - sleep with one eye open xx
ynpng hate u with every fibre of my being rn <3
-> landonorris nuh uh
-> ynpng gonna unprivate my acc and let the world see the video of you falling down the stairs
-> landonorris might accidentally leak the video of you and the shoe incident
-> ynpng you wouldn't dare.
-> landonorris you wanna bet?
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marycorcaroli · 8 months
Text
first sex with zoro or sanji?
headcanons ; 18+.
rules ; masterlist.
i had a request for "first sex with zoro" but i decided to add sanji as well, hope no one minds ! english is not my first language, i apologize for the mistakes.
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sanji.
— the first time you have sex with sanji is like something tender and beautiful. his long fingers move over your body, sending shivers down your spine, and sanji loves it. he loves that you let him spoil you and not give anyone else the opportunity.
— he'll probably go crazy when he sees you completely naked. he'll spend several minutes looking at all your curves and admiring you.
— sanji will start with endless compliments to warm you up "you're so beautiful", "what did I do to deserve you?", "you're too beautiful for humans", "wow, you're already wet and we're just getting started, do you want my cock so bad?" i already told you he's shameless.
— will leave hickeys all over your body and afterwards, make sure to kiss each one so you don't forget his tender side.
— will lick you for hours before fucking everything out of you.
— just licking you will bring you to euphoric orgasms that make your legs shake, your brain stop functioning and your mouth can't produce anything, but sobs and pleas for more. sanji isn't rough, he wants you to feel all the pleasure possible and realize what it's really like.
— will kiss you while his fingers play with your swollen clit (he still didn't have enough he left you a total mess), his lips bite yours but at the same time he is so gentle and afraid that you won't like something.
— your comfort is important to him so don't be afraid to tell him if you're in pain or if you want him to be more gentle. sanji will do anything for you ! because he loves you to no end and he's afraid to hurt you.
— i bet he gets turned on by kissing you and can't stop.
— sanji will kiss you to hear you moaning into his mouth and sobbing. that way he will know that you like it and you are not afraid anymore.
— i don't think he'll want to hold your wrists, sanji thinks that way he'll completely limit your actions, and he likes it when you touch him ! !
— the first time he has sex, it's the missionary position! it's the best for him where he can look into your eyes and kiss your face ! ! my boy is so perfect.
— his pace is not the fastest, it's medium, it's your first time, even if he likes rough sex, pain, blindfold and restriction, he won't do those things, it's all for your comfort. sanji will be the most loving 🥺 he will start with slow thrusts so you get used to his length and don't feel pain.
— HE HAS SUCH A BIG DICK 😩 i know that for a fact ! ! sanji knows how to handle it and feeling it with his hand on your belly, god is he in heaven????
— will snuggle up to you all the time, most likely your whole neck will be in his drool for he keeps bumping his face into it.
— with your permission, will cum in you so that your cum will be fused into one ( it sounds so weird ) but if you are against it, cum on your stomach is just as good.
— aftercare ! ! will wash you in the cutest way, whispering compliments that make you red as a tomato in your ear while sanji kisses your cheeks <> bring you water, food or turn on your favorite show, watch until you fall asleep at his side, then turn off tv, hug you tight and kiss your temple, thinking about how wonderful you are and that he would do anything for you.
zoro.
— the most beautiful boy in the world ! !
— even if he looks tough, his heart is made of tenderness and love for you.
— he doesn't really need sex with you, you love and support each other, so zoro is more of a platonic relationship.
— but when it comes to sex he wants everything to be perfect. he will spend the whole day with you and show you the most beautiful places he associates with you.
— he will give you the most magnificent kisses that will show all his love for you, his hands will wrap around your whole body and press you tighter against him so that you can feel his heartbeat (it is accelerated because of you).
— he will gently undress you and keep looking at your eyes to make sure you want it.
— he is so happy : ( you trust him so much that you want to be close to him in this way. zoro will give you the most wonderful pleasure ! !
— completely undressing you, running his fingers over your body, over your scars or tattoos, leaving the wettest kisses on them.
— kisses ! ! it's important for zoro to kiss you during sex, so the intimacy between you increases.
— he will lick you till the last to make you ready for him. he has such an experienced tongue and your cunnie is so sweet, he can't hold back anymore 😩 he will bring you to squirt and then start working his fingers to see the show again.
— his pleasure is not so important to him, yours is much more important and he will do anything for it.
— he'll leave your clit swollen and kiss it in the most tender way <> and he won't mind leaving hickeys on your thighs and biting them a little. zoro is crazy about your thighs ! !
— before entering you he will say the most beautiful words of love to you "thank you for trusting me, i will do everything to make you feel great, i promise i will love you till my last breath and after that".
— like sanji, zoro's ideal position is missionary, where he can see all your emotions and can kiss your whole face.
— his pace is very smooth, he does not like sudden movements or too rough sex, he is a real romantic.
— sex with him will be long and pleasant, he is in no hurry and wants to remember this moment forever, which they will do.
— he doesn't care where to cum, he doesn't really want to make a mess, but if you ask him to, he will cum on your thighs or in you (he dreams about it).
— he will change your sheets and wash with you, telling you how good you are for him. he will bring you water or food and then fall asleep on your breasts while your fingers massage his head.
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vanderilnde · 3 months
Text
rugby player soap fucks you after a win. that’s it. extension from this post of mine
cw for dubcon smut, noncon exhibitionism, and gross johnny + simon
-
“Did ya see that, hen?”
Johnny’s words come out stifled behind his mouthguard. He smiles, and it’s bulky, a little dim-witted in how he darts his tongue out, licking up a wash of blood that sluices down his lip. His eyebrow is split and his nose is bent out of shape, his cheeks all swollen and ruddy. 
He pulls you into a crushing hug, shaking like an ebullient dog that’s unaware of how big it is. His jersey, a royal blue, turns cobalt with his sweat. It sticks to his skin and outlines his chest, peeling off of your shirt when you sheepishly pull away. 
The pitch is glutted with celebrating teammates and their loved ones, but the broadcast camera is raptly focused on you and Johnny. On the grudging hold he has on your waist and the unwieldy trophy he’s just won for his team. 
Johnny grins like it’s a challenge. Like he wants to make the camera turn away. He forestalls the protests on your tongue by sinking into you for a hard kiss, bruising, and almost brutal in its force. It’s like he hasn’t separated himself from the game yet. Like he doesn’t want to compartmentalise you from the barbarous sport he plays. 
The scruff of Johnny’s stubble tickles you as you try pushing him back, try twisting out of his hands. But his fingers, as bandaged and torn as they are, press dimples into your jawbone and keep you in place. Keeps you squirming and shameful beneath the dissonance of celebration. 
He peels away with a kitten lick, pressing a wet smooch to the corner of your mouth. He’s smiling, pulling your jeans against the bulge beneath his spandex-like shorts, chuckling.
“Scored that last try for you, hen,” he pants. Spits out his mouthguard and passes his tongue over his bloodied teeth. “Did’ja see it?”
Johnny stinks of iron musk and sweat. He hands the trophy away and uses both hands to pull you close, clemently kissing your jaw. 
“I did,” you hum. You consciously lilt your voice upwards, telling it to Johnny how he always needs to hear it. “You did so well, Johnny. So good.” 
He whimpers into your neck. Just barely gyroscopes his hips against you. 
“Did it for you,” he slurs. Johnny’s words are all soft, melting on his tongue as if he’s drunk. As if his brain is belated and stuck in the grip of your praise. “Did so good, right? A’practiced so hard.”
You take the bait that Johnny has given you, petting him, because if not, he’ll get ratty and make a scene. You pull back and cup his face, preening under the cornflower blue of his eyes and the puppy-like dip of his lips. You smile. “So good. I’m so proud of you.”
Johnny is half-lidded and dizzy, nodding to himself, swallowing your praise like an empty-headed dog. Impatience and lust are written into him—you can tell by the darkened shade of his eyes and how hard he clutches your hand. 
“Let’s go,” he says, leading you through the stadium entrance, shouldering past fans asking him for autographs and photos. “We’ve time before the team goes for dinner. Nobody’ll be in the change room.”
Your cheeks flare with the implication of Johnny’s words and how purposeful they are. Marked by firm determination, leaving no room for objection. 
He tugs you like a puppy pulling its owner. Excited, working against its leash, your feet struggling to catch up. Johnny pulls you into his team's changing room, slamming the door shut behind you. The sound of you getting pressed against the lockers is thin, tinny, and fleetingly impairs you. When you reorient, Johnny has his skinned knee between your legs and against your pussy. His hand palming his cock through the tight material of his rugby shorts.
“Johnny,” you pant, “what if someone comes in?”
“Let ‘em,” he huffs out a laugh. “What’re they gonna do? Ban me from the league? I just won us a trophy. ’m on top of the fuckin’ world, baby.”
Annoyance cycles in your stomach at his lack of consideration. You try wiggling out and mewling, but the thigh between your legs is an immovable object. Your clothed clit catches on his sinews at every angle, pushing a gasp out of you regardless of how you twist and turn. 
“Haud y’r wheesht,” he barks. A hint of aggression bleeds into Johnny’s words, and that makes you pliant. “We’re just celebratin’, hen, no need ta ruin my win.”
Your eyes are on the door while Johnny shucks down his shorts. It rolls down his thighs and he leaves it at his knees, too eager to toe off his cleats and pull it all the way off. He stands awkwardly now, a little stilted because he can’t stretch his legs all the way, but that doesn’t stop him from bevelling his thigh into you and flexing, grinding into you. 
Johnny peels your shirt—a replica of his jersey—off of you, and kisses you deeply. You can taste the salt and blood crusted against his lips, feel his small smile. 
Johnny spins you around and folds you over the bench. Your knees bruise against the rubber flooring and your chest flattens against the cold wood, your brain reeling in the gross implications of it, whatever Johnny and his friends get up to in this locker room. 
He rips down your jeans, almost popping the buttons off, almost burns your skin with the denim, and settles himself behind you. Johnny grabs a fistful of your ass and spreads you open, swatting your pussy with his other hand.
“Johnny…” you mewl, and he chuckles. Gives you a waggle, slipping his large hand over and thumbing your clit.
“Thought you were feart of bein’ found?” He asks, lowering to his knees and kissing your dewy folds. “Why’re y’being so loud?”
Johnny waits for a second, giving you time to think of a reply, but with the first sound to leave your mouth he’s licking a fat stripe up your pussy, collapsing your words. 
He laughs at himself and it sends vibrations up your spine. Your bones are grinding together, your nerves filaments of live wire under Johnny’s hands that dig divots into your thighs and his mouth that sucks on your clit, tonguing your sticky folds. 
He spits on your cunt, spreads the wad of saliva around with his tongue. He pulls you into his mouth and suckles, moving his wet lips against your dewy ones. 
You stretch your arm back and tug on Johnny’s fleecy mohawk, scratching your fingers against the dew-skinned, shaved parts of his head. He expels a groan against your clit and you mewl, pushing into him, wiggling so his nose buries further, his tongue plunging into you and licking a stroke up your walls. 
You’re quivering now, shaking against the cold bench and Johnny’s hot mouth. A knot of energy crackles in your stomach as he wraps his lips around your clit and slurps.
“Gonna come on my mouth, hen?” Johnny pants, but pulls away before you reply. Punches a whine out of you by spinning you onto your back against the bench, pulling his cock out and giving it a few tugs, his dick so hard it droops with laden weight and a slaver of precum.  
“Or would’ya rather do it on here?” He asks, stroking himself. His balls low-hanging in front of you, the fat head of his cock all ruddy and red and flaring as he pinches it. 
You stare, dull-headed, with your mouth hanging open and a hazy film behind your eyes. Johnny giggles. 
“Cannae think with this in front of ye?” He smears his cockhead on your lips. “Sweet girl. So cute.” 
Johnny winces and pulls away. He swings one leg over the bench, settling himself on top of you. His cock is a heavy mass of muscle between him. Swinging, bobbing in place. Dumb and drooling with precum that drops onto your navel. 
He slips himself between your puffy folds, panting like a dog. Equally as impatient as one, squeezing his cockhead past your first ring of muscle, writing off your small cries of pain. He thinks cupping your cheek offsets the burn—still, Johnny’s cock is so heavy and so big inside you. Spreading you open, stretching you out. Making a home inside your belly. 
You hic his name, and he shushes you with a kiss. Johnny weaves into short, quick thrusts, because pulling himself to the tip means losing most of your warmth, and he can’t have that. He settles on barely rolling his hips, focusing on burying himself deep, folding himself into a frog position if that means fucking you meaner.
“Takin’ so much cock, bonnie,” he moans into your neck. “So good. So good.” 
Johnny’s ears turn pink and his eyes turn glassy. He keeps rocking inside you, his cock filling you out so well, so full, your thighs shaking and damp with slick. He fingers your clit, and in his pace, wild and unfettered, you wrap your legs around his waist like a cobbled together leash that you use to pull him closer.
Johnny grows feral at that. He slaps his balls harder against you, biting your shoulder. Sweat and blood rolls down his cheek and onto your face, augmenting the icy gold of his first place medal. It drags along your chest with each of his thrusts, turning into a ball of liquid fire as your body saturates with sweat. Johnny leans down, his lips slick as he kisses you, the push and pull of his hips ripening into a more jagged, desperate rhythm.
“Gonna fill y’up, hen,” he pants. There’s a strong dissonance that impairs you, echoing within the locker room. Johnny’s degenerate moans and the slap of skin against skin. The pitched sound of the wind being knocked out of you, the sticky sound of your cunt getting spread open on his big cock. 
Something else poises itself on Johnny’s tongue, something impure, but it gets shaved-off as he cuts himself off with a long, flinty moan. Johnny quivers as he comes, and that pushes him deeper as he fills you with his warm ropes.
He presses down on your clit, pushing the rise of your orgasm out of you. Your spine curls off the bench, your nails digging divots into Johnny’s arms, your mouth hanging open and a rough wave of pleasure curling over you and breaking into your skin. Your orgasm is so consuming it burns, eating you whole.  
It chews you up and spits you out. You tremble around Johnny’s softening cock as he peppers kisses down your sternum, and while you reorient, you see an unearthly spot of colour in the corner of your eye. It isn’t composed of matter—it’s big and blurry and hides between two rows of lockers. 
Then, you realise the drapery England flag, the absence of a Scottish one. 
The man who stands in the corner is blonde and huge and has his fat cock out, curling his fist around it, pumping. He’s so quiet, an ambush predator as he just stands there, continuing to beat his dick even after you make eye contact with him. 
He turns to Johnny, grotesquely smiling.
Johnny returns it.
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eddies-ashtray · 3 months
Text
The Taste of the Divine // Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
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Masterlist
Synopsis: You get high with Eddie for the first time.
WC: 3.2k
Category: Smut (18+ ONLY, minors do not interact).
Content: Weed (in the form of gummies), intox. kink if you squint, you and Eddie are both high, descriptions of what it feels like to be high, kissing, fem receiving oral, spit play (kinda?).
A/N: Hi! It's been a minute, so let's hope I'm not too rusty, but I hope you enjoy ;)
♡*♡*♡
“Woah,” you say.
“What?” Eddie asks, turning to look at you, his frizzy hair shifting over one shoulder with the motion.
“I can feel it behind my eyes,” you explain.  
Eddie grins at you lazily, his chest rumbling with a laugh as he says, “You are so stoned right now.”
An hour after you ate a couple blue raspberry THC gummies—effectively staining your tongue blue—you sit on Eddie’s bedroom floor, your backs pressed against the side of his bed. 
Only the lamp on the bedside table is switched on, blanketing the room in soft, yellow light. The gentle hue and the feel of his slightly rough duvet at your back give the room a sort of muted feel, making you feel like you’re inside a pillow fort.
“No, seriously,” you insist, softly tapping the back of your hand against his bicep. “It’s like, the back of my head feels…fuzzy?” you say it almost like it’s a question, trying to come up with the words. 
“Yeah?” Eddie hums, his tone gentle and understanding, but with a teasing lilt to it which makes your face burn up, sending tingles up your chest and neck that you’re not sure is a response to Eddie or the weed. 
“Yeah,” you agree with a nod, swallowing as you recognize the dryness in your throat. 
Eddie’s russet eyes flick down to your mouth for a moment, unconsciously flicking his tongue out to wet his pink pout. “Mouth dry?” 
You just nod, transfixed for just a moment by his tongue wetting his lips again. They shine in the lamplight, such a pretty shade of pink. 
You rub your thighs together, feeling like a cerulean wave has crested above your head, and you’re underwater, your whole body lax and calm as you float beneath the surface. 
It’s odd, the calmness in your body. The awareness of your limbs and how your face moves. And that wonderful fuzziness. It’s making everything softer, gentler. But there’s also the feeling of your soft thighs brushing together. The slight friction between your thighs makes the back of your head tingle, goosebumps rising on your arms and legs. 
It’s odd, but it’s good. New, but not unwelcome. 
When you meet Eddie’s eyes again, he feels closer. Or maybe he is closer? But you want him even closer. You’d beg him for closer, you think as his eyes impossibly darken, tracing their way down your features. 
You wonder what you look like to him. Are your eyes red? Do you look as spacey as you feel? Does he like it? 
Your limbs feel slightly heavy, your skin buzzing. Softness everywhere. 
“What else do you feel?” He whispers, his breath fanning across your mouth and chin. You crave the sight of his tongue to his lips. The touch of his tongue to yours. 
“I-”
God.
Your chest begins to rise and fall with quicker, shallow breaths. 
“Please.” It’s so quiet, you’re not sure if he’s heard you. But the look in his eyes is igniting a fire in your belly. 
He holds your gaze and you lose your breath.
Water surrounds you, dampening the sounds of the world. Softness envelopes you. An ache between your thighs, a craving unsatisfied. 
“Please, what?” Eddie laughs. 
When you don’t respond, only avert your gaze and rub your hands over your bare thighs (the summer heat has you in just a t-shirt and your underwear), you can sense understanding washing over him. 
“Are you feeling good?”
The question would be so normal. He’s just checking in with you, making sure you’re still okay. You trusted him enough to do this with him for the first time. You’d want to do this with no one else. 
But his tone suggests a double meaning.
Without your notice, there’s suddenly the feeling of his hand (rough from playing guitar) on your face. It feels so good you could go cross-eyed as you lean ever so slightly into his touch. 
“Do you feel it here?” 
You nod slightly, meeting his eyes again and forgetting yourself for a moment. 
His calloused fingers then trace a teasing path down your neck, past your pulse point, and his open palm lands just below your collarbone. His eyes follow the trail, and he can no doubt see and feel the quick rise and fall of your chest. 
The warmth of his hand seeps into your skin. 
“Here?” Eddie questions. 
The room falls away as you say, “Yeah.” But it comes out rough, a reminder of your dry mouth. 
Eddie hums, as if this is interesting to him, like someone has told him a fun fact he’s not sure that he cares about. His fingers continue their path down your chest, leaving a long trail of electricity in their wake. 
You survey his face as he watches his hand trail down, before ghosting his hand past your chest and stomach. 
Without even thinking about it, you gently split your thighs for him.
“Oh,” He says it like his heart ached the moment the plush of your thighs separated to accommodate his rough hand.
The inside of your thighs burn where his fingertips caress them, stoking the growing fire in your belly. You suck in a sharp breath at the feeling. 
You close your eyes, trying to catch your breath. Over his hands barely grazing your body. Over his dark eyes on you, his wavy hair creating a shade around you. 
“There,” you agree before he utters the question. Your heart is beating rhythmically against your rib cage, begging for his touch as your skin tingles, everything slower. 
Everything is so warm. You want his fingers everywhere. 
“Touch me,” you breathe, and Eddie’s eyes dart up from your thighs to watch your face. 
He sighs like he’s pained by your plea, melting into you. His forehead meets your temple.
Now it’s his turn to catch his breath. He just breathes, the soft air cooling your warm cheek. 
After a moment, Eddie pulls himself from you, catching your eyes again as he moves back, but remains close. The scent of his shampoo and him invade your senses. 
“Where?” He questions. “Here?” But it's so gentle, as his hand smoothes over the curve of your thigh, and drifts so slowly up, his pinky just meeting the edge of your panties. 
A whimper slips past your lips as if he’s dripped hot wax onto your thigh, instead of the gentle caress he actually gives you. 
He fingers the fabric with his thumb. “These are cute,” Eddie muses, then pinches your thigh between his thumb and forefinger, right at the top where you’re most tender and soft. 
Your stomach somersaults and you can’t help but bring your right hand up to rest atop the back of his, where it rests between your legs. 
The feeling of his warmth, the hum in your veins. The need for more. You shift his hand downwards, letting him graze you over the cotton with his palm lying flat against your clothed pussy.   
Eddie sucks in a breath, his middle finger trailing up your slit over your underwear. He tsks softly as he presses into the wet patch. 
Warmth blooms in your chest and you feel like your heart is going to leap right out of your ribcage. 
His hands. So rough, but gentle against your skin. Those eyes, with pupils blown out from the weed and his desire that’s rolling off him in waves. His tone. Teasing and begging simultaneously. Like he wants to be a little mean, but he also wants you too much to play games for too long.
“Eddie-” 
But that’s all it takes before he cuts you off, capturing your mouth in a desperate clash of teeth and tongues. 
His presence takes you over, flooding your senses. His lips taste faintly of a lingering cigarette and your strawberry chapstick he must have borrowed. 
Smiling into the kiss, Eddie pushes forward, leaning into you until you begin lowering to the floor. One of his hands is on the carpet behind you and the other is at your hip as he slowly guides you to the floor. 
When your back meets the carpet, Eddie’s hair shields you once again, his lips never once having left yours. 
Eddie is a welcome weight on top of you, pushing you deeper under that cerulean wave as you wrap your arms around his neck. He takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss by licking hotly into your mouth. His tongue grazes yours and you moan into his mouth, back arching off the floor. 
Your head is still fuzzy from the weed, and getting fuzzier.
Groaning in displeasure when he lifts himself away from your mouth, you slide your hands out from around his neck. Hand trailing down his chest, you grab the end of his necklace and pull him back down to your mouth. 
The groan that vibrates in his chest and feeds the fire in your belly makes you ache between your thighs. Losing yourself in the way your mouths move together, his bottom lip slotted between your top one, you both become increasingly sloppy. 
It feels so good to kiss him like this, completely invading each other’s space. He gets so into it, like he could do just this forever and he’d be happy—elated. 
When Eddie pulls away again, he flicks your top lip with the tip of his tongue and you can feel yourself throb. He breathes heavily, fair cheeks stained pink, and his hair a little more messy than it was before. His frizz; a halo. 
But before you can pull him back down again, he plants a kiss to the corner of your mouth, then your cheek. He’s on a mission, leaving kiss after sloppy kiss down your neck and chest.  
Enjoying the sensation of his lips on your skin, you loosen your hold on him, allowing him free range as your hands coast down his back. 
When he’s finally eye level with your tits, he diverges to the left one, flicking your nipple over your thin tank top with his wet tongue. You whine and thread your fingers through his hair, tug at his roots. Eddie grunts in response, but moves on quickly, pulling the fabric of your top loosely up your body so he can kiss the skin of your sternum and belly. 
Finally, you glance down at him, his dark eyes flickering to yours as he plants a final kiss to the dainty bow at the center of your panties.
Your hips flex beneath his hold as he squeezes your flesh before parting your thighs. The pressure of his calloused fingertips digging into your skin is delicious. You close your eyes, reveling in the sensation.
You can feel him move between your thighs, eliciting the soft sound of his body brushing against the carpet. 
“My mouth is so dry,” Eddie whispers, his breath ghosting against the soaked fabric. “And you’re so wet, angel.” 
You throw an elbow over your face, shielding your eyes, not out of embarrassment, but because you are so overwhelmed by him. 
It doesn’t help when his lips press against your panties, right where your clit is, and your legs twitch in surprise. All you can do is gasp, enjoying his teasing.  
Then there’s the feel of his hands coasting up and down your thighs. Your skin heats as you bite your lip, heart rate quickening.
Eddie places another sweet kiss to your pussy over the cotton, this one lower, drawing a whine out of you as you wiggle your hips impatiently. He teases his tongue against the wet patch and your hips buck involuntarily. You can feel him smirk against the skin of your thigh and you huff. 
He places one final quick kiss to your mound, before asking: “Can I take these off, sweetheart?”
“Yeah, Eddie,” is all you can manage, and it comes out strangled and muffled beneath your arm. 
But it's enough for him to tear your panties down your legs, and you kick them off as he dives back in, his arms encircling your thighs once you’ve got your feet planted on the floor by his shoulders. 
“Fuck, look at you…My pretty, sweet thing.” 
You cover your face with your hands, sweet humiliation warming your skin. 
You feel so exposed like this, open for him. It makes your heart race. But the weed clouding your brain means you’re not as self-conscious as you might have been otherwise. Not about the coarse hair between your legs or how wet you are despite how little he’s really touched you. 
Slowly, Eddie pulls your hands away from your face, and you rest them on your belly. 
The intensity of his gaze makes your heart skip a beat. “Watch.”
He’s gentle at first, kissing the backs of your thighs, his eyes on yours. 
But as he trails his kisses closer and closer to your center, he nips at your inner thigh, causing you to whimper pathetically. 
And finally—finally—Eddie licks a thick stripe up your weeping cunt, and closes his eyes, losing himself in your taste. 
“Fuck!” you cry out as his mouth devours you, his tongue lapping at your wetness as he licks you from your leaking hole to your clit. 
Eddie pulls you impossibly closer, his grip tightening on your thighs, burying himself between your legs. He’s starved for it and your legs are already shaking. You’re so sensitive, and his tongue feels so warm, and it all feels just a little more. Just a little better. 
Tears prickle in your eyes at the sensations as you trail your hands down your belly and bury your hands deep in his hair. You groan as his nose bumps your clit. 
“More,” you beg, back arching just slightly off the floor.
Suddenly, his fingers join his tongue and he’s lapping at your hole enthusiastically while his thumb comes up to stroke your clit. Rubbing soft circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves, you practically squeal at the overwhelming feelings as your thighs clamp around his head. 
For minutes, Eddie never comes up for air. His tongue feels like heaven as it sheathes inside of you, pumping the wet muscle inside of your warmth. His ringed fingers are like a blessing as they toy with your pussy. 
He hums against your cunt, so content to be between your thighs.
The pleasure and the weed make everything hazy as you babble, “Feels so good. So good, Eddie…Please.”
Pulling back for just a moment, he breathes hard, chest rising and falling rapidly as he thumbs at your clit and you moan, rolling your head to the side as you catch his eyes. But they aren’t on you. They’re on your pussy and your face warms as he stares, mesmerized. 
Eddie’s hand comes to rest on your mound as he thumbs at your clit. Dimples carve into his cheeks as he smiles lazily when you twitch. “So messy for me.” 
You’re pouting down at him, out of breath when he spits thickly onto your already soaked cunt, the coolness of his saliva on your warm skin making your hips stutter and causing a gasp to slip past your lips. 
It’s too much and you have to look away again, dropping your head back and shutting your eyes. Just feeling. 
“Mmh,” Eddie hums before you feel him spreading his spit around your pussy with his thumb. 
“Please-” You whine, but it morphs into a moan as he quickly dives back in, licking and sucking, completely brazen in his love for your taste. But you’re just as brazen, hips rolling into his mouth, practically riding his face. Eddie takes it in stride, reaching up underneath your shirt with his only free hand to pinch your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Your back arches off the carpet and you gasp sharply. 
He kneads at your breast as his tongue and fingers become sloppy between your legs. Eddie shakes his head back and forth rapidly, no doubt staining his cheeks and chin with your wetness. All you can do is cry out, and moan, and babble on about how good he feels. 
Your orgasm builds, that delicious burning sensation swirling and growing in your belly. “Eddie. Eddie! Gonna-”
But you can’t even get the words out as he groans, the vibration sending shivers up your spine, only pushing you closer to the edge. 
Without pulling away fully, Eddie mutters roughly against your pussy, “Say it again.” 
It takes you a moment to process his words. And when you do you don’t fully understand. Until you do. 
Eddie is such a giver. He never tires of burying his face between your thighs and eating you out until you’re shaking in his arms, until you’re crying from the overstimulation as he goes in for seconds. 
But he likes receiving praise for it too. Likes to hear how good he’s making you feel. Likes to hear his name on your tongue. At this point it’s the only word you can remember anyway. 
“Eddie! Please, Eddie! Eddie,” You say his name like a prayer. 
He becomes an animal, going wild at the sound of his name leaving your lips. 
You’re so desperate to cum as you grind into his mouth, Eddie grunting, squeezing your breast in his hand, his other still working over your clit. You remove a hand from where it's tangled in his hair and cover the hand that kneads over your chest, back arching. 
When he begins the lethal combination of plunging his middle and ring finger into your tight, wet heat as he practically makes out with your pussy, you’re at your tipping point. The feeling of his lips kissing your clit, then his tongue darting out to have a proper taste as he sucks it into his mouth makes your brows furrow as you moan for him. 
One final thrust of his fingers inside of you and one last mean nip at your clit has your orgasm crashing over you, and your body convulses. Eddie continues to lick and fuck you with his tongue and fingers as you ride it out, cursing and moaning as you do. The feeling spreads everywhere, from your cunt, to your belly, to your chest, all the way down to your toes. 
Heat spreads beneath your skin as you slowly come down, chest heaving with shallow breaths. 
Eddie pulls away and you mewl when he playfully slaps the top of your cunt, making your clit flutter in sensitivity. 
Groaning lowly, Eddie climbs on top of you and you finally open your eyes. 
Your view is wonderful. His waves shield you from the lamplight, his mouth and cheeks glisten slightly as he grins down at you, and pieces of his fringe stick to his forehead which is covered in a light layer of sweat. 
Smiling languidly up at him, you reach up and brush his hair back from his face, the fire in your belly briefly heating up again at the feel of his hard cock nudging against your bare thigh. 
“Feel good?” 
Licking your lips, you nod, your body limp and tired. 
“Good,” Eddie whispers, leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to your mouth. You can still taste yourself on his tongue. 
He strokes your face lovingly with the back of his clean hand. “Still feeling floaty?” 
“Mhm,” you respond, completely blissed out, assuming he’s referring to the weed. 
He hums thoughtfully, eyes flickering down to your lips for a moment before meeting your eyes again, a mischievous glint sparkling in his.
“Can I tell you a secret?” He whispers cheekily and you nod. 
Eddie leans down so his mouth is level with your right ear. “I wanna go again.” 
***
Thank you so much for reading! If you liked it, please reblog!
<3
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charliemwrites · 6 months
Text
Unhinged obsessive Johnny Thoughts™️? Unhinged obsessive Johnny Thoughts™️.
Johnny didn’t mean to. He swears he didn’t mean to, please understand.
You’re his favorite server at his favorite bar. He finds every excuse he can to drag one or all of his team there. Yes he likes their company, of course. Likes spending time with them, laughing and joking and building bonds outside of life or death situations. But you are the highlight of those nights.
You smile so sweetly, a little cheeky twist whenever he gets all of the 141 there together. You know all their names - or their callsigns at least. Call Price “captain” with a giggle whenever he groans at you to stop calling him that.
Johnny adores you. Sometimes when he’s alone at the table - the others off smoking or playing pool - you’ll stop by. You don’t have to, but you do, chatting until one of the other servers teases to stop flirting and help bus.
You always blush when they shout that, but never deny it. Leave him with one last warm smile and a promise to top up his drink for listening to you ramble. As if he couldn’t live with your voice in his ears all the time.
You tell him about your masters program. Complain about shitty customers. Admit you broke up with your last boyfriend for calling your hobbies a “silly waste of time.” The movies you’ve seen or watch for nostalgia. He knows when your playlist is on at the bar because you spend your entire shift bouncing and mouthing along whenever you’re not handling a customer.
It’s a slow infection. A creeping, insidious thing that seeps into his blood and corrupts him from the inside out. This awful, twisting devotion for you.
He knows to be careful, loathe to be one of those men you avoid like the plague, trading with other servers to handle. He doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable. He’s happy with the flirting and the little kindnesses, happy that you always light up when you see him. That you breathe a quiet “thank you” and squeeze his arm the one time he steps in one a handshake customer on your behalf.
It’s enough. He reminds himself that it’s enough. He doesn’t deserve more than you’re willing to give. He can’t give you the life you deserve yet.
But then one day things go wrong. So, so wrong.
There’s been a rowdy group of men that have been harassing the younger servers all night. You stepped in, older and more experienced, practiced at not giving them the reactions they want. It’s another of the things Johnny loves about you. You don’t need a mask like Ghost to hide your face.
One them especially tries antagonize you, even manages to earn a sharp word when he says something crass. Johnny tenses when the guy (buddies following suit) starts getting loud, aggressive. Towering over you when he knocks over his barstool, trying to intimidate.
Johnny shoves the guy away from you before it can get much farther. Relief washes over you as the owner, a big burly man, finally makes an appearance and kicks the lot of them out.
“A whiskey on the house for Soap,” you ask the bartender, hand pressed to your chest. “My knight in a cotton sweater.”
He smiles for your sake, mind buzzing to see you so shaken up.
“Alright, lass?”
“Yeah, just spooked me is all,” you sigh, a hand to your cheek now. “Think I’m gonna step out for some air. Thank you again, John.”
He lets you go, even though every molecule in his body urges him to bundle you up under his arm, safe and sound. Take you somewhere quiet to smooth your feathers.
Something doesn’t feel right.
He manages to wait exactly one minute and seventeen seconds before he tells a blasted Gaz that he’s going to the bathroom. When he steps out the back door, you’re being cornered by the man, two of his friends hanging back telling him to “leave it alone” but not actually doing a fucking thing to stop him.
So Johnny does. Honestly, he blacks out for a second. The next thing he knows, he’s cradling you in his arms, his knuckles stinging and bloody. The men are nowhere to be found but there’s a pool of blood in the alleyway. You’re unconscious, fainted sometime in the scuffle - or maybe hit your head.
Johnny isn’t himself. He’s not thinking. He’s used to keeping his cool with guns pressed to his head, but this is different. This is you.
He doesn’t mean to. He really doesn’t but it’s the best he can come up with when he just got a firsthand look at how dangerous the world is for you when he’s not around.
Please understand. He has to keep you safe.
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