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madamaryxx · 17 days ago

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Forgotten

Pure, unadulterated angst.

Reader x ?

A/N: Fourth Wing Spoilers, Mentions of depression

Word Count: 1.7k

Trying something different and asking for y'alls input. There will be a poll at the bottom for you to participate in the story if you're interested.

You watch as they rally around her. The way they are now busy watching her every move. Training her at every opportunity. They even made her a damn saddle for her dragon. They constantly train her on the mat, design daggers for her hands and strength.

Staring at the blazing fire in the common room, you slowly watch your surroundings and the comings and goings. But no one knows you’re there.

You’re invisible.

Not only to those who you thought cared about you, but also thanks to your signet. You huff a laugh as you mask yourself in the alcove that you’ve come to claim as your own.

All you must do is survive for a few more days before you’re free from them all. Free from any eyes looking for you, free from expectations, from them.

You always knew that you weren’t a priority. You always faded to the back of conversations, the back of the room. Left to your own devices, you let the resentment fester, the feeling of not being worthwhile.

No one ever described what a bond breaking between a dragon and a human felt like, but you could feel the way your dragon’s voice seemed to start feeling like it was underwater. The communication line between the two of you seeming to be drowning, the same way you felt yourself breaking apart at the seams.

As you arrived in formation when the alarms went off, you kept to yourself and your eyes straight ahead. Nothing in your mind registered anymore. The only thing behind your eyes was the festering of relentless anger.

As you go to leave formation and gather your things, you feel a tug on your arm. You look back to see Imogen tapping your shoulder.

“Xaden wants you for the headquarters squad.” You raise your eyes to hers and give a tight nod, nothing showing in your eyes.

While packing your things, you can’t help but wonder if you could just walk away from it all. If they think you’re dead, it wouldn’t matter at this point. With a plan forming in your mind, you pack everything that you deem important and leave the rest of your things behind. You close the door, not leaving a note or anything to find. You’ll either succeed in your plan or you’ll face a punishment you won’t return from.

You head to the flight field. Your dragon waits behind all the others. You huff a laugh at the fact that even your dragon knows how much you just want to fade into the background of it all.

You may not want to listen or watch the comradery of those you used to consider friends or even a lover, but you make sure to keep your eyes sharp. You watch as everything unfolds in front of you, until you watch as Xaden and Garrick stride towards you.

“I assume Imogen told you that you’re coming with us.” Xaden says, no pretense of niceties in sight.

“Yes.” Succinct. Final. There’s nothing more to say.

Both look at you seeming to take in the stone of your appearance, most likely confused by your lack of warmth they were so used to seeing. They exchange a look, but Xaden nods to you and strides away. You watch as they both stride towards Liam and Bodhi, all of them collectively looking back towards you. Even though you are eager to lash out at them, yell, scream, and cry, you just look back with a look of impassivity.

“Headquarters squad, let’s go.” Xaden calls as he mounts Sgaeyl.

You fly at the back of the riot, which your dragon does willingly. There’s no need for you to voice your feelings towards those in front of you when your dragon is already well aware.

The way you lag behind the others has you touching down at the lake about ten minutes after everyone else. As soon as you do, you’re met with a scene that causes you to snort in derision.

Of course Sorrengail wasn’t going to react well to things that were kept from her. You knew that from just watching the way the girl had treated her friends. Everyone is so preoccupied with the scene in front of them, they don’t realize you’ve landed.

Forgotten again.

The pattern is now almost comical. You watch, still mounted as Xaden tries to reason with Sorrengail, Liam trying to prove his friendship, Bodhi and Garrick waiting hesitantly.

Soon enough, it seems Xaden has calmed the little scribe down and everyone is mounting again. No one even realizes that you weren’t even aware of the gryphons either. No one tries to reassure you; you just must reassure yourself.

Once at Athbyne, you search the empty barracks on your own and honestly can’t believe your luck. The plan you have may just be easier to pull off than you ever thought.

While you’re exploring the rooms of the outpost, it seems the group has come to a decision to fight. As you make your way up to the wall where everyone is standing, you listen as Sorrengail goes into details on the venin you’re about to face.

Without caring to hear more, you turn and head back to your dragon. You’ll still execute your plan, but there’s no way that you’re going to leave innocent people out there to die. If you do, then you’re no better than anyone back at Basgiath.

As you sweep the perimeter of town, you’re met with a sight that breaks your own heart. A child has been left behind in the mess of confusion and fleeing. A little girl crying, curled up in a ball, wailing somone’s name to save her.

You can’t help the tears that swim in your eyes feeling like you’re watching yourself break into a million pieces.

You command your dragon to land and immediately pick up the girl. You begin running towards the mine where the rest of the townspeople are but stop in your tracks. Eyes flaring wide, you watch the venin completely drain Soleil and her dragon.

You turn again and sprint as fast as you can with the girl in your arms back to your dragon. You mount and command your dragon to bring you to where the rest of the townspeople are being gathered.

Once there, you bring the little girl to a woman who has her arms out and seems to be shouting the little girl’s name. Watching as she is now cradled and being comforted, you turn your back on the scene and take a deep breath. All you want is someone to comfort you like that. No, not just someone. One specific person.

You shake your head at the thought that causes your heart to crack open.

When you bring your head up, you’re met with red eyes and a shock of tattered purple robes.

“Such pain for such a young person.” The male voice hisses in a raspy voice that sounds like a distorted rumble.

You can’t hide the flash of recognition at the words that settle in your mind.

“Why don’t you take all of that pain and channel with me?” He says while beginning to circle around you.

Looking around, you realize that you’re alone. There aren’t any other riders or fliers in this area.

“You can show them what real power looks like and show them you aren’t one to be forgotten.” The words he’s spitting begin to swirl in your mind. The thought of being able to be powerful and not just a shell that’s been rejected hitting you square in the chest.

You shake your head trying to escape the hold that the venin’s words have seemed to settle in your mind.

“I won’t be controlled. By you or any power.” You spit through clenched teeth, trying to bite back from the hold that you can’t seem to shake from your mind.

“Your spirit is fierce. It would be so pleasant to break you.” The venin continues.

You find yourself reaching for the sheath that was given to you months ago with instructions not to use unless absolutely necessary. You suppose this situation would render it’s use necessary.

You double over with the sheer amount of power that the venin seems to be plying towards you. Without overthinking, you grab the hilt of the dagger and fling it. Your aim is the one thing you’ve never questioned about yourself and as you expect, it finds it home in the chest of the venin.

The creature’s eyes seem to blaze with the fury that you were able to best him. You find yourself crawling backwards trying to get as far away as possible.

Suddenly the din of the battle still going on around you crashes back into your mind. You look up to see dragons locked in battle, to your left and right civilians are still running for cover. Realizing that your own dragon’s focus is taken helping Deigh eviscerate a wyvern, you know this is when you have to make your decision.

You take a steadying deep breath, trying to calm yourself from the interaction with the venin. As soon as you feel your heartbeat return to something a little more normal, you’re off. You swing your pack on your back as you run. With one look back, you feel like your entire being is breaking, but you just can’t imagine staying anymore.

A slight panic tries to break through your thoughts, it must be your dragon knowing what you’re about to do. However, as you continue running, you feel your dragon’s connection growing thinner and thinner. There’s no reason to devote much thought to it as you keep going, if you die away from your dragon, so be it. No matter what, from now on it will be on your terms.

You steal into a thick cover of forest and throw your bag down. You slide down the trunk of a tree and collapse into a tired heap. At this point, the sun has crested on the horizon and night is beginning to set. Your mind can’t help but wonder if anyone has even realized that you’re gone. The last thought you have before sleep finds you is that your dragon can find a new and worthy rider.

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madamaryxx · 26 days ago

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gojo would kill your work husband. but if he were the work husband, that's a different story

REAL!! he’s such a hypocrite because if someone mentioned you had a work husband, his entire world would stop and he wold devise the absolute worst plans to make sure that your co-worker, everyone at your job, and everyone in the next building over knew that he was happily committed to you

but if he is the work husband, he’s very........ dutiful in his role. there’s a loose office/lawyer au in my head where satoru is your secretary, and for all intents and purposes, your personal assistant, and he’s good at his job, but mostly because he considers his job to be pleasing you. he has coffee for you when you arrive, he moves your schedule around without you asking, he has answers to questions before you can even ask them, he has fresh flowers on your desk weekly, pokes into your meetings to pretend to hand you a file that’s really just maybe a single document in a manilla folder with candy on top of it—he’s made himself your business, your partner; he’s made himself irreplaceable, and he loves to remind everybody of that fact.

he’s also extremely loyal. sure, he could day a week’s worth of work done in about a day, but that doesn’t mean he’ll just use his talents for anybody. he’s your secretary, so he’s at your beck and call, and everyone knows it. they know he’s the best, but also that he’s off limits—not because you won’t share him, but because satoru won’t let himself be shared.

he also extends his duties beyond work, of course. when he hands you a print out of your schedule for the day and you’re confused by the three-hour block of time you have in the middle of the day, satoru just helps you shrug your coat of your shoulders and smiles, “that’s for the lunch date you have with me, of course!” hanging up your coat in your closet for you, “i’m paying, see you soon, sweets.” and because you’re great at your job, and satoru helps you be great, nobody really questions when the two of you have time for a 13-course tasting menu at 1pm on a tuesday afternoon. and if they did, all satoru would say that you two had a lovely date

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madamaryxx · 1 month ago

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reason ☆ ( thirdyear!katsuki x reader ) suggestive — your boyfriend breaks up with you, and katsuki doesn’t waste opportunities

The first fact Class 1-A learns about you is that you have a boyfriend.

Well — had. And now you’re third years, and it’s safe to say that you should’ve broken up long ago.

You had him since middle school, but they never met him. Your dynamic shifted from the perfect picture of high school sweethearts to something more toxic since you got into UA — 1-A, no less. Yuusei didn’t pass the UA exams and called you insensitive for asking him to come meet your ‘fancy hero friends’ while he was from some low-profile school, and back when you had sympathy for him, it was difficult to be peeved at his blatant jealousy. He had a compelling, teary face.

“That’s called manipulative,” Sero says.

“He was really insecure,” you confess. Not that it makes it any better. He was manipulative because he was insecure — but that wasn’t all. He’d been that way long ago. There was a different turning point.

Kirishima gives a gentle, understanding pat on the back. “We were busy enough as it is. But now we’re about to graduate; of course you started thinking more about your future.”

“And you got the perfect ending — a future without him!” Ashido cheers to that. You take a long, long, victorious sip.

Right. After your breakup, you phoned Ashido about it, unaware that she was out with the rest of your friends, but it wasn’t like you were on speaker. Ashido gasped and shrieked, and the rest continued in her apartment, bottles of fancy wine that probably came from Bakugou lined up on the table.

Bakugou had been silent the entire time, sitting on the far edge of the couch across yours. You didn’t even think he’d come along. He’d always been coldly indifferent when it came to anything related to Yuusei. He doesn’t offer a single word; you expected him to call you stupid for dragging it this long when you entered the room. He just stared, ruby tracing your every step.

“So? What made you snap?” Kaminari asks, nestling into the cushion beside you, slinging an arm over your shoulder. You feel like a prey as Bakugou’s gaze holds on Kaminari’s arm for a moment too long. “What shit did he pull this time?”

Bakugou had been the reason for your breakup, and it almost feels like he knows exactly that.

Yuusei despised him. Bakugou is the physical embodiment of everything Yuusei failed to be, and you were friends with him. It really didn’t help that Bakugou has an ego and can back it up; Yuusei didn't have either.

Yuusei was in a heated argument with a classmate, and you got irritated by his voice drowning out even your music at the loudest volume. So you got up, buried your feet in your outside shoes, and glanced back.

“Hey, I’m going out.”

Yuusei was already having an awful day, and came the bottled-up aggression that made him spit in seething venom: “What, don’t tell me you’re going out to fuck Bakugou behind my back again?”

You paused from where you had been tugging your jacket sleeves up your arms. And then, unadulterated fury. The rest is history.

But that’s embarrassing to admit to your friends. They’d ask why Yuusei would even bring Bakugou up — why he is even a recurring argument in your relationship. It wasn’t just Yuusei that was the problem. Somewhere buried deep that Yuusei could feel was your shame, the one that knew Yuusei wasn’t just threatened by Bakugou because of one thing.

“He was having a bad day,” you say instead, and the mendacious excuse slips so easily. Back then, you thought it was because you needed to defend Yuusei; now, it was because you feared them also knowing the truth. “And I realized I just couldn’t — uh, anymore.”

“Yeah,” Sero, Kirishima, Kaminari, and Ashido agree together.

Bakugou finally shifts from where he’d been unmoving, ducking down to fill his glass. “‘least you learned your fucking lesson.” His gaze flicks up; the intensity makes you feel so shameful. It coils in your gut. “Forget the losers who can’t handle themselves. Go for the best.”

Coming from him. Is he flirting? This has to be flirting, right? Every word he says feels so charged, blatant with intent.

“Whoa, fresh on the market and you’re already saying that? Give it a few months, at least,” Kaminari laughs, followed by some, but you and Bakugou aren’t laughing. You’re stuck in this weird staring competition — looking away feels like admitting defeat. Feels like you’d straight up confess that yes, it’s you! You’re the fucking reason why!

“Yeah,” you mutter, though you’re not sure if it’s in response to Kaminari or Bakugou’s. You drag on another sip but feel as sober as a judge. You feel like you’d need ten more before you could even deal with whatever shit Bakugou is pulling.

“Cheer up, baby,” Mina coos. “You know you’re a catch. Yuusei will know exactly what he lost.”

“I don’t care about him anymore,” you say, which is the complete truth. “I’m getting shitfaced because I feel like I’m about to make a very bad decision.”

“Um?” Kirishima voices worriedly. “Do we need to take you somewhere?”

Bakugou stands abruptly, jingling his car keys in between his fingers. “Come on.”

“Are you drunk?” he asks before you can even pretend to open your front door.

“I only smell like it, but I really am too clear-headed for this,” you swear.

The moment he pins you to the wall and buries his mouth into yours, you know you are gone. This is what Yuusei had been fearing, what you’d been hiding — and fuck, it feels so good. He kisses like he’s starving like he’s been holding back for as long as you are. The shame comes spilling out soon after.

“I just got broken up with,” you say in a futile attempt to ease your guilt. “Hey — Katsuki, do you even—”

“I know what I’m doin’,” he says, mouthing over where your jaw and neck meet. "I know you want me."

“God, this is so fucked up,” you say, trailing off in a whine that really says a lot about you. “I’m an asshole. You’re really good at kissing — Katsuki—”

“Try three years of patience and tell me again what’s more fucked up,” Katsuki rasps, breath searing a mark on your skin, inciting a shudder that came down from your toes to your dizzy head.

“You were waiting for Yuusei and me to break up?”

“I get what I want.” Katsuki pauses, his eyes flicking up, arresting yours for a breath. “And he was a dick. Was bettin’ since year one.”

You curl a strand of his untamed hair, unwittingly charmed. “Sorry for making you wait.”

He responds by capturing your lips in a kiss, prying your mouth open with his, licking in, biting, pulling, grinding, and —

Katsuki softens his hold on your hips, pushing off. “Hey.”

You pant. Wow, you think, lightheaded, you don’t think you’d ever been kissed that well. “Hey,” you exhale over his mouth.

Katsuki bears his forehead heavily down on yours. “This isn’t some one-night stand rebound bullshit, you hear me? I didn’t wait three years just to get my dick wet — we’re doin’ this shit, got that?”

“I know,” you say, smiling. “You’re the best of all of them, right?”

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madamaryxx · 6 months ago

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⭑.ᐟ — being bakugou’s neighbor PART ONE / part two / part three

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madamaryxx · 6 months ago

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Just thinking about Pro Hero Dynamight getting caught as a hostage by a villain. How the fuck did that happened? Don't ask. Not even Dynamight himself knows how. Yet he fucking got taken.

His arms are tied behind his back, some kind of cloth around his hands that are wet with some liquid that prevents him from activating his Quirk. Fucking villain is smart.

The piece of shit keeps laughing and threatening him, explicitly calling out how he is going to kill Number Two, Pro Hero Dynamight. He gets closer to where Bakugou is kneeling, a knife making pressure on his throat.

And then, an explosively loud thunder is heard at a distance. But it keeps approaching and getting even louder as it makes everything shake.

Bakugou Katsuki smirks.

The villain looks confused and angry, “What the fuck is that?!”

A strong explosion opens almost half of the room where Katsuki is being held captive and the holy image of you blesses their eyes.

As the villain falls to the floor in fear, you walk inside the room looking like a crazed demon brought from the deepest of hell. Lava surrounds you, the vivid color of burning, high temperature around your face and body makes every villain shit their pants.

But Bakugou Katsuki thinks you're the most fucking beautiful creature that has ever existed in this world.

“That is my wife,” he smiles fucking proud.

a.n; another little lava girl!reader small thingy that wouldn't leave my mind lol ✨️😉

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madamaryxx · 6 months ago

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Dating Football Captain! Toji.

headcanons under cut!

Football Captain! Toji makes you come to his practices every time your classes let out just so he can get you something to eat and take you home after, making sure that you get back to your dorm safely.

Football Captain! Toji that has you come to his games and always has a spot for you in the middle of the bleachers with his family, with his jersey on your chest cheering him on the loudest.

Football Captain! Toji who knows that you're shy when talking to people and showing people your public displays of affection so when his team wins all he wants to do is wrap you up and give you the sloppiest kisses but he doesn’t. He comes up to you and warms his arms around you whispering in your ear “Thank you for the motivation pretty girl” and you hide your face in his chest with your face getting hotter.

Football Captain! Toji skips most of the after parties unless it's for their most important games. When you guys do go to the parties you guys stick in his small circle with other players Nanami, Gojo, and Geto just sitting on his lap enjoying laughing along with his group.

Football Captain! Toji who get pissed when ex-flings or hookups try to get into your head trying to make it seem like your relationship is temporary so he gets you matching necklaces and posts a picture with your necklace sitting pretty against your chest (those same girls all unfollowed him except for one).

NSFW

Football Captain! Toji, who takes you to his apartment after his games, makes you wear nothing but his Jersey and eats you out for hours. Tongue lapping at your folds with one of his hands under his jersey playing with your nipples bringing you into another vision blurring orgasm with him moaning into your pussy.

Football Captain! Toji who fucks you in the locker room after wining his championship game he has you up againset his locker pounding into while lookingn into your eyes telling you how much he loves you while leaving hickies and bite marks your neck.

Football Captain! Toji gets angry when his team loses a game (which is very rare) and he takes it out on you. The ride back to his house is silent and his hand leaves a print on your thigh with how hard he squeezes it. Walking into his house you're immediately backed up against the door and his lips are on yours. Soon after your legs are on his shoulders and mouth is on your neck biting the flesh as you squeeze around his cock causing him to cum inside of you.

Football Captain! Toji can get busy at times with the team but he still squeezes in time for quickies. You were walking out of your English lecture and were on the way to the dining hall to meet with your friend.

BUZZ…

baby, where are you?

You smiled at your phone geeking at the text your boyfriend had sent you.

I’m walking to the food court to meet with roselyn. Why?

can you meet me in the parking lot? we're going to our secret spot real quick, we have a late practice so i’ll take you home before i start. it’s going to be cold out tonight.

Okay, I'm walking there now.

You texted him back going into your messages texting your friend asking her if she could meet you at your dorm later instead she had said it was okay because she was meeting up with a tutor anyways. Then you make your way to the parking lot seeing your boyfriend pulling up in his bmw f80 m3. Opening the door you get in and reach over to your boyfriend to plant a kiss on his lips.

“Hey pretty girl, how was class?” Toji said as he reached over to fix your necklace that was crooked. “It was good were getting started on our casual essay so i took a lot of notes today”

“You already know that you're going to ace it, so don't worry about it, you already know how you get so don't try to argue with me” tilting your head back let out a laugh. “Okay, baby”

Now Toji’s seat is reclined all the way back and you're on top of him with your skirt bunched up at your waist giving it your all. “Oh my fuck I wish could just stay with you and cuddle you for the rest of the day, you would like that, huh baby.” Toji growled out moving his hips to meet your movement. You could barely hear what he was saying. All you could do was focus on the orgasm you were approaching.

He moves his hand to your ass helping you bounce up and down on his dick praising you well you did so. “You're so hot baby you're doing so well at taking my cock just like you always do.” his words and the look in his eyes caused you to squirt on his cock, his abdomen and his seat. Feeling dizzy you lean your forehead on his bare chest as he stroked your back with his still inside of you. “What if I just fuck you into oblivation right now?”

He challenged you with his hand inching toward your ass trying to move you along his cock again reach behind you grab his wrist. “No I won’t be able to do it baby” you whined, slapping his hand away, failing miserably. He chuckled before kissing your cheek before fully grabbing your ass pushing himself deeper into you, hard. “You can take a couple of more orgasms baby” he gloated while you let out a string of whines with your finger nails digging into his shoulders while he attached his lips to yours.

(i got carried away lmao sorry)

Football Captain! Toji that sends voice memos of your guys having sex to the girls that flirt with him (you give him permission of course).

Football Captain! Toji takes a picture of you in his jersey completly fucked out with his cum driping out of your pussy and puts a physical copy of it in his wallet.

Football Captain! Toji who lets you give him massages but it just leads to you sitting on his face while his tonuge laps at your juices.

Football Captain! Toji fucks you while his chain with your name on it floats on the top of your face.

Football Captain! Toji cums on your chest when you give him head. Only after this time does he take a picture of his cum coating your chest and capture his name on your necklace and put it in the mirror thingy in his car next to a picture of you at a lake house he rented out for the two of you for spring break.

Football Captain! Toji who takes the game of football very seriously but takes you and your relationship vigorously.

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madamaryxx · 6 months ago

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could you write some academic rivals to lovers prompts?

Any variety of enemies to lovers / rivals to lovers is my bread and butter.

Academic Rivals to Lovers Prompts

Prompts

A starts falling behind on one of their classes and it stresses them out beyond belief. They turn to the only person smart enough to tutor them: B, who takes immense pleasure in having an academic hold over A.

A and B are paired together on a project and stay for hours after school to work on it. B isn’t pulling their weight and A gets mad at them to discover that B is sick, overworked, and physically too tired to work any harder. A takes it upon themself to take care of them— for the sake of the project of course.

A and B haven’t seen each other since school, where they parted ways in mutual hatred. They reunite as adults, both waiting to be interviewed for the same prestigious job.

(Alternate for 3) A starts a new prestigious job only to be trained by B.

A and B are competing against each other in a competition. As they get further in the competition / as their deadline approaches, A starts to work less and intentionally loses because B needs the win way more and, wow, B is gorgeous when they’re happy.

Oneliners

“Did you just admit that I’m smart? Wow, you really must be in love with me”

“I’ve always been compared to you. Why can’t you be as smart as A? A could do this easy peasy. Why can’t you just be A?”

“The only reason I study so hard is so you don’t think I’m stupid.” “I never thought you were stupid”

“No matter how much I work, it will never be enough— I will never be enough”

“Am I sensing a competition?”

Also see:

Enemies to lovers prompts masterlist

Prompts masterlist

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madamaryxx · 7 months ago

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♥︎ p! twt links ♥︎ part 3 ♥︎

SIMON ‘GHOST’ RILEY… ♥︎

older bf! simon making you cum

simon’s uncircumcised cock

squirting for simon

your simon’s fav sweet treat

kidnapper! simon fucks u in the forest

simon showing off to the boys

simon just likes having sex out in the wild ig

CAPTAIN JOHN PRICE… ♥︎

john price is so good w his hands

slow morning sex w the captain

older bf! john takes you to a hotel

professor price milking your pretty cunt

riding your captains face

older neighbour! john busting ur door down after u send him this #real

yes john loves u in pink

KYLE ‘GAZ’ GARRICK… ♥︎

riding gaz in the barracks

legs up for gaz

gaz fucking and spanking his pretty girl

at home videos w gaz

gaz graces the gc w sneaky vids of u guys in bed

kyle was just so desperate he ripped your jeans

welcoming gaz home

JOHNNY ‘SOAP’ MACATAVISH… ♥︎

morning sex w johnny

soap loves his girl in red

soap and you at the pool oops

johnny throat fucking you

soap is a kinky bastard

sex w a view or two for soap

1000% send this typa shit to the boys gc

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madamaryxx · 7 months ago

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chocolate confession ♡

fem reader, part 2 for the ring pop proposal miniseries since yall were asking for it ! fem reader, soft n worried katsu, white day chocolates, katsu n reader r in highschool (ignore the no dorms blehh :P) in this one, this also reeks of my ocxcanon ship msorry yall lolololol, i dont think there are any warnings, but lemme know if i missed sum else !

the first person who realizes katsuki is trying to confess to you is his mom because he hasn't left the kitchen since he'd banished everyone from coming in as soon as the sun peeked through the curtains.

the older woman had no idea what the sounds of pots and pans clanging, mixed with not-so-quiet cursing meant, at first. but she figured it out quickly, call it mother's intuition, or the fact that she checked her calendar and realized tomorrow was white day.

mitsuki knew her son was going to confess to you when he came back from school with a cutely wrapped box of chocolates. her katsuki was still rowdy—if not rowdier and even less approachable than he was as a chubby cheeked little boy, so she guessed by the blush and barely suppressed smile on his face that—

"ouuu, got yourself some chocolates ? aren't you a heartthrob.." she teased "who'd you get those from ?"

katsuki scoffed at his mothers teasing. he rolled his eyes, but they wouldn't—or rather couldn't stray far away from the wrapped sweet treats. he runs his thumb over the ribbon tied in front.

"..yn gave 'em to me." he huffs proudly.

as she guessed, they came from you. of course.

katsuki is still—if not even more protective over everything that involves you, practically growling at his mom's not so sneaky attempts at trying to sneak a chocolate when he had opened the box "yn made 'em for me, so no touchin'." he snarled, stomping over to his room and ignoring his mom's knowing smirk when he made his way up the stairs.

this memory brings her back to now when she suddenly hears..nothing. absolute silence in contrast to all the ruckus from only a few seconds ago. and then the door creaks open just a bit and mitsuki sees her son's head peek out from the corner. she looks up from her magazine to raise a brow in question and the blond boy glares, jolting his head to the side in a silent plea for her to come over.

she saunters to the door, knowing smirk growing wider the more her son's grumpy face comes into view. she gets a peek of her kitchen through the small crack her son allowed her to see. she had to admit, though rowdy, katsuki was anything but messy. even though the dishes piled up, she knew he'd clean them up soon enough. she looks down at him and he avoids eye contact.

"can i come into my kitchen now ?" she smirks. katsuki scoffs at his feet. he grumbles something unintelligible before side stepping and telling her to 'just come in already.'

the woman is greeted with a batch of freshly made chocolates, which she assumes are one's you like if she knew how enamoured her katsuki was with you.

"ouu, who are these for, hm ?" she teased, but if he knew her son well enough she knew that these—

"sh-shut up !" katsuki snapped, cheeks turning red and eyes drifting around the room "you know who.." he challenges. mitsuki smirks wider, crossing her arms.

as she guessed, they're for you.

"okay.." she humors him, shifting her weight to her other leg " and what do you need me to do here ?"

katsuki inhales shortly to himself. he picks up one of the chocolates, not from your tray because those were for you and no one else, but from another tray she hadn't noticed of sloppier batches.

"try this." is all he says. handing her a little piece of deformed chocolate and she plops it into her mouth. she takes the time to let the sweet treat melt on her tongue before letting out a pleased hum. katsuki straightens up and his eyes shine and brighten the slightest bit.

"mhm, these are good." she acknowledged "but why don't i get one of the pretty ones ?" she teases. her katsuki all but scoffs in her face, simply stating that "these are for yn, not you."

and mitsuki realizes. he must've been working for hours trying to make these chocolates perfect for you, she guessed. her heart warms and her eyes soften at her son's adoration for you.

"but the one you gave me is good too, why can't you just give her one of those ?" at that, katsuki shoots her an incredulous look, like she had just told him something utterly unimaginable.

"i can't go around givin' her shitty chocolates ! 'specially not if i.." he trails off suddenly, grumbling with balled fists. he wipes at his cheek to try and wipe off his embarrassment. mitsuki feels her smile practically reach her ears. she's too good at this.

"if you what ?" she sings, leaning towards her son. he grumbles.

"if i—stop looking at me like that ! s'creepy so knock it off !" the blond snapped, face and ears a bright shade of pink and mitsuki can't help but bark out a loud laugh at her son's flustered state, her laugh drowns out the low growl he makes. she decides to spare him after a good giggle.

"okay, okay. i get it." she reassures. because she does, of course she does. but she sees something is wrong with the way her son seems satisfied for only a second before he's chewing at his lower lip and the way he wipes his hands against his pants. she knows her katsuki is extremely hard to handle. he could be quite the brat, but also extremely stubborn (she thinks she might know where he got that from.) so asking him simply what was wrong was out of the question. so she decides to coax him into it.

"you gonna give them to her tomorrow ?" he nods, hiding his eyes with his bangs.

"they're good. so i'm gonna give 'em to her tomorrow." her son nods at his mumbled pep talk, but the tension between his brows doesn't let up and after a moment, he sighs grumpily.

"what if i, like, fuck it up..?" mitsuki's eyes soften at her son's insecurities showing despite himself.

"how would you do that ? all you gotta do is hand them over." she asks softly. katsuki huffs.

"it's not that simple," he retorts "what if i make it weird ? what if i make things between us weird an' she doesn't wanna be with me anymore..." the sad tone of voice and the angry little puppy dog eyes make mitsuki melt, despite growing up a lot. despite being quippy and rowdy and a major brat, her katsuki will always be her little boy tugging at the bag of sweet ring pops he'd begged her to buy at the grocery store. her little boy who smiled a bright determined smile as the bag crinkled in his hand following his proud stomps to the car back home, ready for tomorrow.

a surprised throaty noise escapes katsuki when his mom places a hand in his hair, running her fingers through it. he makes a displeased noise, again, but doesn't try to stop her. mitsuki does realize her son is trying to confess to you with these chocolates, but she's a woman too and she knows you, she's known you since you were small and she knows how much you care about her son. she knows from the way katsuki kept the chocolates to himself, the barely supressed giddiness in all of his actions and the way he took his time enjoying every bite she knows and realizes that these chocolates were most definitely just for him.

and she guessed maybe you were trying to tell him something too.

she knew her katsuki had absolutely nothing to worry about, because you carried you empty ring pop container around with you in your bag and proudly explained it was 'your husband katsu' that gave it to you with a giggle. because you'd kiss his cheek without worrying about the ooh's and the kissy noises, only her son's cherry red cheeks but proud smile. because you'd giggle and laugh when he still called you his wife well into elementary school, and because you still smile so wide at the mention of his little ring pop proposal. and so, she smiled. startling katsuki by rubbing his hair fast like an almost noogie. he growls at the sudden shift, gripping his mother's arm and pulling away with a scowl, rubbing and trying to fix his hair. "the hell are you doin', hag ?!" her son seethed, and all she can do is smile.

"you got nothin' to worry about, katsuki." she says sincerely, the boy's arms drop and altough his barely there pout remains he tries to act tough, raising a brow at her "how do you know that ?"

"call it mother's intuition." her smile widens at his scoff and rolled eyes, he's better at it now and she laughs. " why do you wanna give these to her ?" she urges. he thinks for a moment, before his cheeks burn red again but his eyes go soft and warm and so much more enamoured with you than he was all those years ago in the car.

"cus..i like her.." he confesses "an' i don't want anybody else to do it before me." he finishes bitterly.

he's always been protective of you. any other boy you were paired up with or sat next to when the class seating order changed was considered public enemy number one for a while. of course, you had him on a leash, always being able to soothe him by saying that he was your number one best friend. and that was more than enough for him to throw smart glares and snarky smirks, grabbing your hand and dragging you off somewhere to show you something cool. something he knew you'd find cool because he prided himself in knowing exactly what you liked more than the other boys. your favorite ice cream, flowers, and chocolate flavor.

and mitsuki smiles. "right, you like her. so you can't let that scare you off, can you ?" mitsuki feels her heart soaring with pride, albeit with a little amusement when her son scoffs in response "course not. i ain't scared of shit." he states, she decides to ignore the irony of his statement for now.

"of course," she nods "and just between us, i think she likes you, too. i dunno how she does but.." katsuki's eyes widen like she'd just told him something ridiculous, completely ignoring her jab at him. she has to hold back a harsh laugh at how oblivious her son could be.

"that's just my guess though !" she shrugs nonchalantly "but there's only one way to find out if i'm right.."

after a beat, katsuki nods to himself with a grunt, grabbing the tray of chocolates and putting it in the fridge, ready for tomorrow, and wordlessly rolling up his sleeves and starting the dishes, as mitsuki guessed, and she smiles. she pets her son's head again briefly, ignoring his dissaproving grumbles, before giving him a pat on the back and wishing him good luck.

the next day, katsuki walks over to her, sat on the couch, immediately after coming back from school, with a proud smirk and gleaming red cheeks. and mitsuki knew she had nothing to worry about as she grins back.

taglist *if your name is pink i unfortunately couldn’t tag you :(( : @73isthebestnumber @gold24fish @m-inluv @katsuisbaby @teddiiursulas-ink @moonbabysstuff @brandydel @queenpiranhadon @chuugarettes @starieq @aishio14 @andysdrafts @hyunorue @touyasprettydoll @itsfiive @annoying-bitxh @h0nestly-though @atinytiredpanromantic @mikalame @itzjustj-1000 @deepressed @evam23 @erenstitanweave @m-0ona @chaoticgay13 @lotusstarr @koreluvsspring @giannitaa @waterstarz @nayeonsdoormat @the-crazy-star-12 @kovu-bunnbunn

tumblr is tweakin so if some of your tags don't work m'so sorry :(((

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madamaryxx · 7 months ago

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Sin Summer (Intermission: Ghost) Rating: E (MDNI) Words: 4.2k Tags: Ghost x f!reader, breath play, fingering (f!receiving), squirting, soft->rough sex, soft dom!Ghost, body writing, dirty talk, piv sex, possessive Ghost, Ghost likes sluts I've said it before and I'll say it again! Summary: You really need a break, and a shower. It's hard out here for a Barracks Bunny! You don't think you've ever been so grateful to see Ghost. <Part 5 ao3

Gaz holds your hand the whole way back to Ghost’s room. He talks in a low voice, telling you what a good job you did, how good you felt, how you can call him any time if you want more. You hum at the appropriate times, ignore the way your ass throbs, and drift on your thoughts until you’re set in front of Ghost’s door. Gaz knocks and after a moment Ghost tugs the door open. You blink at the skull mask, taking in the man in front of you. The stern set of his shoulders and bulky tactical gear make him seem larger than life. His narrowed eyes soften upon seeing you, his gloved hands reaching to take you from Gaz with a gentle touch. You’re passed off, and Gaz gives a mock salute with a grin.

“Tell your bird not to go wandering,” Gaz laughs, “lucky to get ‘er back in one piece.”

“Thanks,” Ghost rumbles. You lean against him, feel his hand settled protectively on your lower back. The rise and fall of his chest is hidden under bulky gear and harsh angles. You miss his heartbeat. You tip your head back when he leans down, his eyes so warm even behind the crude mask. “You alright lovie?” He asks. His voice is lowered, quiet so it feels like it’s just the two of you. You glance at Gaz.

“My ass hurts,” You grumble. Ghost’s shoulders shake with laughter, Gaz’s smile pinching so he doesn’t laugh along.

“Good lookin’ out,” Ghost nods at Gaz, and you're treated to another blinding smile. Ghost turns, ushering you into his room as the door closes behind you. You let out a breath for finally being back in familiar quarters. Your shoulders feel heavy, your eyelids drooping, Ghost's hand on your back pushes you toward his bed. You don't think you've ever been so glad to see his bare walls. You weren't lying when you said your ass hurt, you need a nap and a hot shower before you start feeling right again.

Ghost's hand pets up your spine, drawing up and down your back with a firm comforting pressure. You feel your muscles starting to unspool, the world narrowed to the tips of Ghost's fingers. The soft affection, the persistent touch, your shirt drags with his movements and all you can think about is how badly you want him to hold you right now. Ridiculous. You turn over onto your back and throw one of your arms over your eyes.

“Can't believe I let a sergeant fuck my ass,” You joke. It gets a soft chuckle from Ghost, his fingers moved from petting your spine to tracing idly over your thigh.

“He's a persuasive fucker, isn't he?” You can hear the smile in Ghost's rough voice. You're sure you're mirroring it.

“Pretty too,” Ghost hums and you feel the need to tack on, “like you better though.”

“Yeah?” Ghost asks, like he doesn't believe you. There's something mirthful in his voice. You raise your arm to check his face, it’s hard to read him through the mask, but his eyes are warm. You really want to see him, properly see him.

“Are you gonna wear that all night?” You frown. Ghost chuckles, stepping back from the bed to start tugging at the straps on his vest.

“Thought you had a thing for military guys,” He jokes and you shake your head.

“Just you.”

“Meant to take this off, but heard about some bird wandering the halls.”

“That’s crazy,” You deadpan, “I thought this base was supposed to be secure.”

Ghost hums, and you think you see his eyes crease at the edges. “Supposed to be.”

He turns away from you, carefully removing equipment as you stretch out on the bed. It’s sort of interesting watching the way he handles his gear. Every piece is touched, catalogued, the vest is set neatly down and the rest is piled on top of it. He seems to know every inch, every trigger. You assume he’ll take it where it’s supposed to be later, but part of you is tempted to ask what everything does. In a different life you might, but you’re not his girlfriend, and you’re certainly not about to enlist.

It all looks heavy. It settles heavy at least, the various pieces giving a solid ‘thunk’ as they’re set down. Ghost rolls his shoulders when he’s done, and you’re treated to a quiet ‘crack-pop’ as his joints settle. There’s your answer you suppose.

“You want a shower?” You ask. Ghost turns to eye you, his shoulders still sternly set. You don’t like how tense he is, but you’re frankly asking more for yourself than him. Hot water does the body good after strenuous activity, and you’d like to get all the lube off you sooner rather than later.

“You offering to join me?” Ghost hums, his eyes sweeping over you. You shrug, offer him a smile and hold your leg out to him.

“Long as you’re offering to help me undress.”

You think he’s smiling under the mask. It’s an ugly arts and crafts project if you’re honest, all thick stitches and hand drawn lines. You don’t even want to know what that skull is. It’s Ghost though, and as intimidating as you’re sure it is for recruits, you’re not scared at all when he steps towards you.

Thick fingers pull your shoes off, tug at the toe of your socks, and slip up your bare legs to draw over your skirt. He feels around for the zipper, and drags it down. It’s only been a few hours, but God you missed his touch. Calloused hands, you saw him tug gloves off but they don’t seem to be helping much, catch at your soft skin. The feeling makes you shiver, makes you feel that much more delicate in comparison.

Ghost tugs your skirt off, his hands careful to keep the zipper teeth from catching against your skin. He folds it messily, sets it to the side, and repeats the process with your panties. There’s something tender about the action, despite how haphazard it is, that makes your heart clench. His big hand pets your thigh, a gentling motion before he’s spreading your legs. You drag your feet up, settle them on the mattress as you part your thighs for him. His inspection feels so much different than Gaz’s did. You know what Ghost is looking at. His fingers spread your folds, still sticky with slick. His brows twitch together, his thumb rubs a soft line up and down over your abused clit.

“He put a clamp on you?” Ghost asks, his voice feels edged, like he’s trying to project calm for you. You wonder if he’s just collecting information or if he’s jealous to some degree.

“Just pinched,” You shrug, trying to relax despite the heat his touch, his inspection, pumps through you.

“Wish I could’a seen ya.” Ghost breathes. His fingers tracing over your folds, dipping lower to prod at your puffy asshole, before thinking better of it. That’s what he’s jealous about? You hold back the laugh that bubbles up in your chest. The man just wanted to be there to see you get fucked to pieces. What a man.

Ghost pushes a finger into your pussy, and stops. He frowns. You do your best to keep your hips still, your cunt pulsing with need after having nothing but a bullet vibe to fill it. You don’t stop the soft whimper that leaves you. Fuck you don’t think one finger has ever felt so good. He pulls it out, pushes it back in like he’s testing something, and your stomach jumps. Heat burns between your legs, your pussy tingling and tender to his touch.

“Garrick forgot the best part,” Ghost says, talking to himself you think, “need to get fucked properly don’t you sweet’eart?” You blink at the ceiling, your breath coming short as he strokes your fluttering walls. You do, you do, fuck you want it so bad. His finger draws out of you, the tip of it resting at your entrance and circling the hole. You squirm, desperate for stimulation. Ghost pushes two fingers into you and you gasp, feeling the tightness in your spine. The knowledge of what those fingers can do to you has you on edge as quickly as the curl of them do.

His fingers scissor, stretching your hole as he eases them in and out of you. You whine, tipping your head back as your back arches. You push your hips down against the intrusion, and feel his fingers curl. He strokes over your soft spot, and you gasp in a breath. You’ve spent too much time on your back in Ghost’s room, too familiar with the way he bullies his cock into you, pistons his fingers into you, to be shy about the noises he pulls from you.

That doesn’t mean your body is used to the treatment. You still feel the heat of his gaze prickle over your skin, still feel the ache and throb of tightening muscle when he jabs at your g-spot. He has this supernatural ability to know what you need before you can ask for it, tugging his mask up over his nose to pop his thumb in his mouth before rubbing it over your clit as his fingers curl and twist inside you. He keeps your hips held against the bed with a heavy hand, drawing tight circles over your clit as he fucks his fingers into you faster.

You whine, try to twist away from the feeling, all of it too much after Gaz’s rough treatment, but he keeps you firmly in place. His fingers jerk, up and down, rapid, vibrating, movements that hit you just right every time until your back is arched painfully off the bed and you’re gasping for breath. You’re right on the edge when he stops, his movements dropping down to a soft in and out motion. Nowhere near enough for you. His thumb strokes over your clit, almost apologetically, and you feel the jolt of it through your hips like electricity. Here you thought you were supposed to be the tease.

“Didn’t answer my question,” Ghost says. Your eyes roll back at the teasing stroke of his fingers. They curl to hit your sweet spot with each withdrawal, and you find yourself on edge just waiting for the next thrum of pleasure. You don’t know what he’s talking about.

“Wha- ah!” You moan, attempting to speak through the jab of his fingers. If he gave you a moment you might be a bit more conversational. As it stands you can’t make a noise except for the gasps and moans that he strokes out of you.

“You wan’ me ta fuck you proper,” Ghost reminds you.

“Yes,” You gasp, “yes, yes, yes.” Single syllables drip from your lips easily, each sound pushed from your chest with a rush of air. You grab for Ghost’s wrist and feel the firm unyielding muscle, the flex of tendons as he pulls back to fit a third finger into you. You feel the thick bunch of fingers press against your entrance before he pauses. There’s a moment of thought before two fingers push quickly into you.

“Fuck it,” Ghost grumbles, “wanna see you do it.”

Your brain latches onto his words, your body already tensed with understanding. You tighten your hold on his wrist as he starts fucking his fingers into you in ernest. Each quick jab winds the coil in your stomach tighter. Your muscles pull tight as you feel throbs of heat pulsing between your legs. Pleasure locks up your spine, keeping you arched on each shaking jab of Ghost’s fingers. More up and down than in and out, but hard and fast and bordering on painful as your eyes gloss with desperate tears.

You’re sure you’re begging for release, making noises you can’t parse as Ghost watches you. His eyes are fixed squarely on your cunt, almost as purposeful in their focus as his fingers seem to be. Your body is pulled tight, your pelvis giving its best attempt to lift off the bed and follow his fingers. It doesn’t matter, he keeps you down, keeps you in place to take the full force of his fingering.

Something hot and wet dribbles between your legs. You feel it leave you like a gentle stream, pleasure siphoning out of your body in short releases as Ghost’s fingers work you. It hurts, your muscles never releasing, your body kept at what feels like the edge as you cry out for Ghost. Tears bead over your lashes, the squelch of his hand against your cunt almost deafening through your sobbed moans. He pulls out only to wipe his soaked hand over your slit, and all your muscles release with a shudder of breath.

You roll your head to look down at him. His arm is drenched up to the elbow, his tee spotted with wetness that’s only mirrored by the spots on his trousers. You squeeze your eyes shut and groan. This man… He’s already changed his sheets once this week.

Christ you feel good though. Your cunt hurts, but your mind is clear and you feel sated. Your breathing is uneven as you release your wet grip on his wrist.

“Want you to do that on my face,” Ghost breathes.

“You’re trying to kill me lieutenant,” You swallow. You’ve never stuck around a man long enough for him to figure out how to make you squirt like that. You’re starting to get the appeal.

“Maybe,” Ghost hums, and you huff out a shallow laugh. Despite the breathlessness of it you can feel your wide smile. Ghost strips his shirt over his head, and hesitates as his fingers trace the edge of the mask.

“You can leave it on, if you want.” You tell him. You’ve seen him pull it on before leaving every morning, heard Johnny joking about how he sees more of Ghost’s face with you around than he has in the years he’s known him. He was wearing a mask when you first met him too. “Always” he’d said when you asked him about being faceless. You assume the mask is his preference, but he shakes his head.

His fingers tug the ugly thing over his head. The short crop of his blond hair doesn’t stop it from sticking in all directions as he tosses the balaclava to the side. There’s black paint smeared around his eyes, it makes them look all the brighter. The warm brown looks darker, but stands out all the sweeter. Ghost’s brows draw heavily down and he tips his head to look at you. You raise a brow, used to his sizing you up.

“Edge of the bed,” He tells you after a moment.

It’s wet, but you scoot your ass to the edge of the bed, spreading your legs for good measure. Ghost’s thick fingers work his belt open quickly, ripping the zipper of his fatigues down to push them over his thick thighs. Fuck you love seeing him like this. The stretch of his skin over corded musculature, the blond hair covering his body, darkened from lack of sun exposure. The trail of hair down his stomach, the curl of it around his cock, the coarse wisps of it over his thighs and the backs of his arms, it makes you drool. It’s only after a week in his room that you feel like you’re truly starting to appreciate the man that Ghost is.

His hard cock hangs heavy between his legs, the head of it flushed as he grabs the base and strokes it to the sight of you. You reach between your legs to spread your folds, giving him a good view as he steps closer. Ghost slaps his cock against your cunt and you hum, enjoying the sparks of pleasure it sends through you.

He’s never gentle pushing into you. His fat cock bullies you open, his fist wrapped tight around it to help push into your tight hole. You whimper at the stretch, the burn of his skin against yours. You’re drenched but it never seems to be enough for him. His cock splits you open, wrenches the air from your lungs as he thrusts into you without a care for your comfort. One thrust and it’s in. Your fingers twist in the sheets, your back arching as your lashes flutter. Fuck, you never get used to it, and you hope you never do.

Ghost hooks his arms under your legs and drags them up towards your chest as he settles his hands on either side of you. The position just makes him hit that much deeper in you, your hips angled up and your legs pushed back. He pulls out, and fills you again. You whine, your pussy still sensitive and sore from his fingers. It doesn’t stop him. If anything it eggs Ghost on, makes him snap his hips against yours with more determination. His cock reaches deep inside you, knocks against a throbbing pleasure that shoots through your veins and coils tight in your stomach.

He doesn’t need fancy tricks to make you moan. It’s just him. Ghost curls over you, his forehead pressed to yours as his hips slap against you. You try to keep your eyes locked on his, but you feel like you’re going cross-eyed, and every thrust of his fat cock hits you deep enough to have your eyes rolling back at the splitting ache of pleasure. You feel blanketed by him, your body covered by his, your spine rounded to tip your hips up and give him more space to drive down into you. Your fingers grip his biceps, curled around the hard muscle as his big hands move to cradle your head. Your body shakes with each hard thrust, but you’re held tight. Immobile.

There’s a possessiveness in each of Ghost’s thrust. Moans are punched out of you, your stomach clenching around the ache of his cock battering deep in your soft cunt. The wet squelching sound of his strokes are almost as loud as the words that drip off of Ghost’s lips.

“Fuck,” He groans, jostling your head, tipping it to put your eyes on the fat cock that dips into you, “Look’it you tryin’ ta push me out.” The sheen of your slick clings to his length, and you clench at the sight. He lets out a breathy chuckle, the huffs of laughter sticking to your skin like fingerprints. “You like that, huh?” He asks, pressing his hips tight against yours and grinding down into you. The movement of his cock inside you stirs a new wave of heat over your skin. Your cunt clamping down on him as your back tries to arch into the feeling. Your muscles scream at you, held too tight by Ghost’s hands to do what they so desperately want to. It aches, a pain low in your back that you know you’ll feel afterwards. Your hands scramble off his biceps to scratch at his shoulders. You’re breathless, bent and held so that each punch of his cock knocks the air from your lungs. It’s mean, jealous. You love it.

You scream for him. Your voice scratches against your vocal cords, your muscles ache, and your cunt can’t stop clenching tight around him. Ghost pulls his cock out of your cunt and shakes his head with a smile. Your breath pants out of you as you stare at the monster that should be tearing you apart.

“Keep squeezin’ me and I’m gonna come,” Ghost grunts. As if you see anything wrong with that. Fuck it’s such an ego-boost to make men come before they want to. Ghost’s fingers tighten in your hair and he tugs your head back to look at him. He leans back, slaps your face before gripping it. His fingers pinch your cheeks. “Don’t look so proud of yourself,” He warns, but his grin is all you need to see.

He shifts your legs over his arms, holds them against his broad chest, your ankles by his ears. He fists his cock, presses it against your entrance before he wraps a thick arm around your thighs and releases your face to knead at your tits. The giant paw of his hand feels so rough against the sensitive skin. It’s all but forgotten when he thrusts into you. You can arch like this. Your back stiffens, your fingers claw at his arm, grab at his bicep, scrambling for purchase as he pounds into you. His pace is brutal. Long full thrusts into your pussy, his cockhead grinding deep inside you, before it’s dragging against your gummy walls to pull out.

The burn of friction as he fucks in and out of you makes your cunt feel hot. Your skin burns with the rush of your blood, pumping pleasure through your veins. Your stomach feels tight, just at the edge of the aching. Ghost turns his head to kiss your leg, sweat smearing the black around his eyes. He rubs the streaks of it against your calf, his teeth teasing the skin as he holds your legs steady. You know his teeth almost as well as his cock. Your body may as well be littered with the marks they’ve left on you, bitten and bruised in all the best ways.

Ghost settles a knee on the bed, and pushes your legs just a fraction of an inch closer to your chest. It’s a small change but it lets him hit something that drips into your muscles. Your legs squeeze together, your back curling into the feeling as pleasure pulses through you. His hand leaves your chest to wrap around your neck and force you back down against the bed. You’re already sensitive, already worked tight from squirting on his fingers, so when his thrusts turn shallow and batter his fat cockhead against your soft spot, you squeal. Your body squirms under his grip, your chest pushing up with the arch of your spine, your hips twisting. Ghost keeps you where he wants you. His biceps flex and the hand on your neck tightens warningly as you moan.

“Tha’s it sweet’eart,” Ghost rumbles, “feels good don’t it?”

“Yes,” you gasp, “feels- God, fuck.” Your head tips back, your legs shaking in his hold. He keeps fucking you in those devestating shallow thrusts, and your body can’t handle it. Heat rockets through you, courses over your skin and doubles back to flutter in your clenching cunt. Your muscles tighten and unspool as your nervous system decides if it wants to come. Christ you just need something more, something extra. Ghost’s hand tightens around your neck, applying a pressure that makes darkness fuzz at the edges of your vision. Your mind pitches sideways, dropping into some soft space, and all you can do is feel. But it’s all you need.

“Show me.” It’s an order, and as your lashes flutter to try and combat the dizzying lack of oxygen you do. You come on his fat cock, come as he pushes the full length of it into you. His fingers release your throat and you draw in a breath, his hands gripping behind your knees to help pull you into his thrusts.

You’re too busy blinking stars from your vision to notice the tightness in Ghost’s jaw, but you feel his cock twitch, feel him pull out in a rush before hot come hits the back of your thighs. Ghost presses his cock between your soft thighs, rocking into the fleshy heat as his cock spurts its sticky load over you. Christ you need a shower.

It’s quiet in Ghost’s room, silence broken only by the heavy intake of breaths. Ghost’s thumbs stroke the delicate skin of your knees, his eyes fixed on the swell of your thighs, the space they push together. He pulls his hips away and eases your legs back down onto the bed. You wince, the release in position after having weight on it aches in your hips. It’s almost pleasant though, a reminder of the sex you’d just had. Ghost offers you a hand and pulls you up to sit on the bed.

“Shower?” You mumble, he nods. You’re still a little floaty feeling, your skin prickles with dissociative heat, and you’re unsure how steady you’ll be walking. It doesn’t matter in the end, Ghost scoops you up and takes a few long steps to his shitty en suite. Perks of fucking an officer you suppose.

He cranks the shower to “hells fucking bells that’s hot” and steadies you on your feet. The room fills with steam quickly, and you bat his hands away to attempt getting in the shower yourself. Ghost’s hands grab your hips, and stop you dead. You glance back to see him staring at your ass.

“Stay,” He orders, and you raise a brow as he turns and exits the small bathroom. Only to return with his phone. He snaps a quick pic of your ass and holds it up for you to see. There's a little bunny head drawn on your ass in thick black sharpie with the eyes x-ed out. GG is written under it.

“What’s the GG?” You ask, looking up from the phone. Ghost tips his head forward, the phone set on the sink as his voice drops and he crowds you into the shower.

“Good girl.”

1K notes · View notes

madamaryxx · 7 months ago

Text

CALL OF THE SEA / PART ONE

pirate poly!141 x f!reader tw: NSFW, MDNI, violence, death (minor characters), bits of gore, 141 are mean pirates, kidnapping

When a group of unhinged pirates invade your small village, you're whisked away from your peaceful home and thrown on to a voyage out at sea. Forced to obtain a new role as their medic, you have no choice but to accept your fate as you join their forces and aid them in their treacherous travels.

The village was tranquil as you stepped through it, bare feet threading through the soft grass, hands wrapped around the handle of a woven basket. It was peaceful, as it always was, without the souls of townsfolk to burden you. They didn’t dare bother you with the witness of elders around, keeping any torment to themselves until nightfall when the small vendor shops had closed up for the evening and the old folk returned to their homes.

You basked in the warm summer rays that shined down on you as you walked past the various shops. Really, they were far from any real shops, only showcasing simple merchant carts with limited supply for the village to gather, but it was a small village, and everything you needed was for mere survival. You weren’t a greedy woman, and you were plenty grateful.

Stepping up to one of the merchants, you offered a polite smile to the older woman sitting behind it, bowing your head in greeting.

“Hello, Mary,” you addressed, and she perked up from where she stood, occupied with counting together the sum of coins she’d earned throughout the day. She reflected her own smile to you, standing a bit taller. A wrinkled hand lifted to brush strands of her gray hair that had blown astray in the light breeze, revealing her radiance.

“Afternoon, dove,” she greeted in return. “What’s on the agenda for today?”

“Just need a few more herbs, is all,” you shrugged, shifting your eyes away from hers to pick around her cart. Mary always had plenty on hand, and usually snuck you a few extras when you weren’t looking.

“Ah, I see. Well, you know the routine, dove. Feel free to pick as many as you need,” she encouraged. You smiled graciously, collecting a small variety of herbs and plants to place in your basket.

It was a different decision every week, seeing as you often performed trial and error with them in the comfort of your home. Despite many in your village disagreeing with your efforts, you were attempting to learn more about medicines. The village was in desperate need of a proper healer, and a female one at that. The male in current practice was much too biased and reckless, though you were sure to get a mouthful if you were to express the concern.

So, you took it upon yourself. Living in the village rather than out on the mainland, it wasn’t a simple teaching. Resources and education were much more difficult to come by, and it wasn’t deemed necessary information for women to have. It was exactly the reason why you were seen as a bit of an enigmatic outcast to all – all except Mary, of course. Perhaps she simply pitied you.

“This will be all for me, Mary,” you declared, setting the basket on top of her cart. Reaching for the small pouch that rested comfortably on your hip, you dug through it, collecting a few bronze coins and setting them in the old woman’s frail hand.

Mary accepted, placing the coins in her own pouch and throwing you a kind smile. “You sure, dove? Nothing else I can do for you?”

“I’m sure,” you confirmed with a nod. “Still in the experimentation phase, I fear.”

“You’ll get there,” she assured, clasping one of your hands between both of hers and giving it an encouraging shake before releasing. “Perhaps I’ll come visit you one of these days. An old lady like myself could use a few tweaks.”

This elicited a light laugh from you, shaking your head as you grasped the basket. “You look as healthy as a babe, Mary. But yes, please do. You know my door is always open for you.”

The two of you said your sweet farewells before you set off down the grassy trail once again. You passed the other merchants, who didn’t welcome you with the same kindness Mary had, but didn’t scare you away with shrewdness either. It was a typical routine, at this point, for others to look down on you. A woman, unwilling to marry and bear children and instead, studying medicine. A true scandal, some might say.

The walk back to your home was done so without issue, but when your humble abode came into sight, tucked away on the farther side of the village for more private practice, the faces of recognizable men came into view. This was just as frequent as the judgeful side eyes you received, but much more inconvenient.

“Afternoon, dove,” one of the men greeted with a slimy smile, the nickname the village had given you slipping off of his tongue like rotted poison. Dove, a name of something so beautiful, given out of mere pettiness. You were free like a bird, yet you should’ve been confined to your cage. Something pretty to look at, but proving no use. “Never quite got back to me about my courtship.”

Right. You had ignored it on purpose. Though deemed as strange and grotesque by the townspeople, this particular man hadn’t quite gotten the hint. Lucius was his name, fitting, seeing as he was as close to the devil as they came. Conceited and boastful with no decency of leaving you be.

He was awfully determined in wanting to fix you, to make you the housewife everybody expected you to be, just like the other village women. It was common practice, seeing as women didn’t do much other than simply that. While some were quite content with that lifestyle, you sought out more. You didn’t want to be chained down to a simple man who had nothing but arrogance to offer, nor a man you weren’t in love with.

“Yes, that’s quite right,” you confirmed dryly, stepping up to your home. He blocked the doorway, barricading you from entering.

“It’s quite rude for a lady to reject,” he interjected, a devilish smile plastered on his face. You blinked up at him with a look of indifference. “I am only asking for an answer.”

“I believe I’ve told you no plenty of times,” you sighed, adjusting the basket on your hip. “I am simply not interested.”

He sucked his teeth together, glowering down at you from where he stood. It was clear he wasn’t pleased with the answer, but unfortunately for him, it was all he was going to get. You were solid with your decision, and god forbid you did change your mind on being a wife and mother, it would not be with him.

“Can’t change your mind at all, dove?” he asked in fake sweetness, reaching for your hand that wasn’t holding the basket. He took it in his grip, much too tight for your liking. “Perhaps I can help change it if you give me one night.”

You scowled at his underlying tone, pulling your hand from his grasp and resting it on the knob of your door. You pushed it open, stepping inside before turning to him. “Please do not humor me with such indications. I am not interested, nor will I change my mind.”

Abruptly closing the door on him, you settled inside of your home, breathing a low sigh of relief. You could hear his faint chuckles with the other men present, their footsteps soft against the grass as they took their leave. He never took things too far, such as forcing his way into your home or worse, forcing himself on you, but you feared that day may come the longer you rejected his advances.

You set your basket on your desk, slouching down in the old chair you’d spend days upon days occupied in. Your journal sat open with ink scattered on the pages in your scribbled handwriting, brief sketches drawn about of the varying herbs you worked tirelessly on. Above you, jars lined the shelves with fading labels, filled with makeshift medicines of all kinds.

With the village and its people now out of sight and out of mind, you resumed your studies with the fresh herbs, focusing on what your heart truly desired.

You don’t remember falling asleep. It had been hours of you with a pen in your hand, jotting down useful notes for your studies, and it was no surprise you had succumbed to exhaustion at the comfort of your desk. Your cot in the corner of the room was more a stranger than anything, but with the sight of moonlight still pouring in through your small windows, you debated on moving over to it so you could resume.

Standing from your desk, you rubbed the sleepiness crusting over your eyes, a yawn threatening to tug through your throat. Just as you began your short trek to your bed, a slight tinge of orange caught your eye, peeking in through your window. It was faint, barely knowledgeable.

Curiosity got the best of you, and through your hazy state, you tugged open the front door of your small cottage, daring to see what was outside. The orange grew brighter in view now that the door opening had allowed more light to pool in, and when you rubbed at your eyes once more, you recognized it as fire.

Fire, burning fiercely in the night, eating away at your village. The sounds of terrified screams and chaotic madness became abundantly clear when you stepped outside. It made your blood run cold. All hairs on your body stood straight in warning, beckoning you to return inside, to hide.

As much as you wanted to listen, the first thing to vacate your mind was Mary. In the brush of flames, you needed to know if she was alright, if she had gotten to safety before the angry fire had broken into her own home. Where most of the townsfolk treated you as a mere joke, Mary was the one who had given you kindness when needed.

Your feet moved in a rush to sprint towards the village, the grass damp from the midnight dew and sticking to your soles. The closer you came towards the heart of the village, the louder things grew. It was blood-curling, hearing booming voices bark various orders while others shouted in petrified fear. Mary’s house was on the other side of the village, and in an act of triumph, you aimed for it.

The heat of the flames became more apparent as you closed in on the town center. Townsfolk that you had grown with since a baby were in a frenzy, some bloodied, some weeping. They looked like they had gone through the pits of hell and crawled their way out, only to be inches away from being dragged back in again.

There was no explanation for why the men of your village were wearing the crimson color of fresh blood, or why some were laying in broken heaps on the ground. They were in agony, shrieking in deafening decibels. The healer in you wanted to stop everything you were doing to aid them, but the child in you wanted to reach Mary first.

You did what your heart wanted and ran for Mary.

Approaching her house, the flames had not yet approached. It wasn’t burned to ash, nor was it in shambles. Instead, one large man had Mary in their hold by each of her arms as she attempted to fight him off while another ransacked her home.

“Mary!” you shouted, helpless. The man’s head whipped in the direction of your voice, cruel eyes narrowing in on you. Mary joined him, fearful eyes catching yours.

The sight of the men was foreign to you, but you’d recognize heartless monsters such as them anywhere. They were mere stories shared between the village, often used to scare the children away from the sea for their own protection. The village was so small, nobody had ever worried about the stories happening to them.

Pirates. Cruel, greedy, malicious. Like dogs off a leash, bearing sharp teeth and frothing at the mouth. They raided innocent villages for their supply, leaving it in disarray once they got what they wanted. Sick bastards who deserved punishment, yet slipped away in the roaring waves of the sea before it could be handed to them.

“Let go of her,” you pleaded with the pirate, hands clasped together. You knew you couldn’t fight him off, even if you tried. Mary was just as powerless as you, and old age was starting to catch up to her. She was fragile, and with the way he was handling her, you feared she’d get harmed.

The mysterious pirate continued to stare at you with an unreadable expression. He grunted in annoyance, loosening his grip on Mary but not quite releasing. It did nothing to comfort you, and that feeling grew tenfold when the other pirate stepped out of Mary’s home, locking in on you.

“Grab tha’ one, will ye, Gaz?” the one holding Mary huffed, gesturing towards you with a nod of his head. The other, Gaz, nodded in return, sauntering up to you like death on wheels. You needed to run, to escape, but he was too quick. Before you knew it, Gaz’s arms had wrapped around your waist, hauling you over his shoulder like a doll.

Flailing in his embrace did nothing. His grip was firm, arm locked on to you impossibly tight, and the punches you threw to his back seemed almost comical to him.

“Find anythin’?” the other asked Gaz. Gaz shook his head, releasing a frustrated exhale.

As chaos ensued around you, the two men began dragging you and Mary along towards the heart of the village where you were moments ago. Gaz’s grip loosened on you, before he dropped you to the damp ground carelessly. You landed with a huff, soreness soaring through your back.

Looking around, you realized that many of the townsfolk were in the same condition. Lined up besides one another, pleading for their lives, weeping with ugly snot running from their noses. Mary was beside you, shaken but unharmed from the looks of it. She stared at you with heart wrenching fright, and you wished you could’ve told her things would be okay.

But they weren’t. The village was set ablaze, its people lined up like prisoners with a group of pirates looming over them like reapers prepared for death. The peace from this afternoon had vanished, and there would be no return. Things would be forever different, if they spared your lives.

Gaz and the other pirate stood side by side as they looked over the townsfolk. Another was beside them, face distorted by a ghastly mask that resembled a skull. It sent shivers down your spine. It was as if you truly were looking death in the eye.

A fourth pirate stepped forward, eyes that should’ve been considered kind instead staring down every last villager with heated observation. He was silent as he paced slowly, hands behind his back, the fire casting a doomful glow upon his face.

“My name is Captain Price,” he introduced. His voice was booming with authority. “If you do not wish to aid us, then we do not wish to aid you. The choice is yours.”

Sweat beaded your hairline from both the flames of fire scorching around you, and the anxiety that spiked inside of you. Your eyes locked in on the Captain, watching his every movement, noting the way he stood tall and proud, showcasing the true power he held. The villagers and you were helpless against him and his crew, and he was ensuring that it was obvious.

“We seek a medic. If you cannot provide that to us, then you are of no use to me,” he explained, pausing his pacing. He took in the sight of every grim face. Once he landed on you, you shivered, looking away in a panic. “I will ask you once. Who is your medic?”

Deafening silence filled the air apart from the flickering flames that threatened to consume us whole. Nobody dared to speak a word, nor did they look away from Price. It was as if time had stopped and everybody froze.

Price sniffed, glancing around the villagers. Though he seemed collected in his behavior, you could recognize the impatience from the way his lip twitched and his shoulders tensed.

“The Captain asked you lot a question,” Gaz sneered in defense. Price spared him a glance before returning focus. Still, nobody spoke for the next few moments.

It wasn’t until Price’s hand drifted to his waist, hand coming to rest on a handgun that the air shifted into one of unease. The sight of it made you sick to the stomach. Handguns were a specialty only the wealthy or military could acquire. They were rare and expensive, a luxury to some, but deadly. One click, and your soul was taken right from your body.

Price grasped the handgun, holding it in his hand as if it were a toy. He stepped up to the line of villagers, peering down at them like useless pigs. The sight of the gun had women quivering in fear, tears streaming down their rosy cheeks. The men were men no more, stripped away of their masculinity and replaced with little boys, unable to protect their kin and fulfill their duty as defenders.

The gun was raised, threat building with every inch. The barrel pointed right at the horror-stricken face of the very man who intruded on your home earlier – Lucius. Gone was the cocky mockery of a man, replaced with a whimpering boy who feared death just as much as another. He was shaking, shoulders slouched in attempts to appear small.

“We will try this again,” Price demanded. The cold barrel pressed to the temple of Lucius’ head and you could do nothing but sit and watch, unsure of what to feel. Sure, he kept a sour taste in your mouth simply from being. But to wish death on him for being a hindrance was distasteful. “Who is your medic?”

Lucius wouldn’t possibly rat you out. He was a selfish man who took what he wanted, but surely, he wouldn’t. He wasn’t that cruel.

The coward’s shaky hand lifted to point in your direction. It felt as if he were throwing a sharp dagger at you, the way he exposed the occupation you’d been so meticulously working hard towards.

Eyes shifted towards you, sending an ice cold burst through your veins. They were prodding, dissecting you from head to toe as if you were an experiment for them to test on. It was unsettling, sinking your heart down to the pits of your stomach.

“You’re the medic?” Price questioned. He hadn’t lowered his weapon, keeping it firm against Lucius’ skull, but his attention had shifted to you. His eyes weren’t warm and kind like they were shaped out to be, but rather cold, glossed over with hardened hostility.

“I–” You swallowed. “I am merely a medic in practice. I am not a professional, I do not know proper teachings–”

“Ghost,” he interrupted, whipping his head to look at the masked man. Ghost was a brute of a man, a shadow that would’ve been consumed by the night if not for the illuminating glow coming from the village in flames. “Take her so she can gather her things. She’s coming with us.”

Dread struck you right to the core. You wanted to beg for them to leave you be, to explain that you weren’t what they wanted. You didn’t want to be stripped from your home and tossed onto a ship with no clue of where your next destination was. These men were dangerous, seeping pure rancor and poisoning the very ground you laid on. Leaving with them was a death sentence.

Ghost said nothing, and even if he did, you wouldn’t have been able to hear it from the subtle weeping from villagers beside you. His strides were long as he approached you, and without warning, his rough hand grasped your elbow, hauling you to your feet. The force startled you, throwing you off balance but his grip was tight enough to keep you grounded.

As you were dragged away towards the direction of your home, you could hear an uproar of cries. Terror struck the village once more and you could do nothing but accept fate for what it was. You wanted to turn your head to see what was becoming of your people, but you were scared. Scared of what you may see, scared of what Ghost will do if you look.

You kept your gaze forward, legs moving quickly to match the heavy pace of Ghost, guiding the lion into your den.

Arriving at your home, you were hit with the realization that it would be the last time entering it. Your hard work would vanish, the space you made into your security blanket would be destroyed, burned to ash once the flames settled. It tore your heart to bits.

“Hurry up,” Ghost gruffed, his voice gravelly and hoarse. Just like Price, it was assertive, leaving no room for discussion.

You made haste to pack your essentials into a flimsy satchel. It wouldn’t be able to fit much, and you could only pray they would at least provide you with bare necessities on your voyage to hell. In your satchel went your journal, the cluttered jars of experimental medicines, your favorite quill, and a daring change of clothes. If Ghost thought you to remain alive long enough to have the opportunity to redress, he didn’t express it.

“That all?” he huffed, and when you nodded, he seized your arm again. “Let’s go.”

The sight of your home became a distant memory the farther you went from it. Already your body was pleading to go back, to curl up in bed and pretend that all of this was a sick dream. You regretted not making your cot of more use, sleeping in that damned wooden chair instead.

By the time you arrived back at the town center, it was like witnessing purgatory itself. Bloodshed with the bodies of your people laid across the ground like animals tossed aside. Useless and unworthy, that was how these pirates treated them. Though your people had never been kind to you, this was a fate you would never have wished upon them.

Their faces were unrecognizable as you took them in. Some burned, some beaten so bloody their faces had swelled into ugly monsters, some slain. The sight of the deceased made you want to vomit, bile piling in your throat and threatening to expel out.

Your eyes frantically searched for Mary, aching to know if they had given her mercy. She was a frail woman, withering with her age. She was innocent.

You couldn’t find her familiar face, and you weren’t sure whether to feel relieved or dreadful.

The three other pirates were standing around one another. They were unphased by the actions they had bestowed upon the village, as if it was another simple day. It unnerved you, rattling your bones with burrowing fear. When they noticed the return of you and their crewmate, they wasted no time in guiding you off to the small port in which their ship had been docked.

It was large, wood tainted with brown so dark it could’ve been black. It blended in with the abyss of the sea, which you realized was entirely the point. Unnoticed and concealed.

Ghost didn’t let go of you as he helped you on to the ship, nor did he release once your bare feet connected with the wood. It was just as restricting as before, causing a light pulse to form in your bicep where he held you.

“Take her to the chambers until we figure out the next step,” Price ordered Ghost, nodding his head in the direction of raggedy doors. You could only imagine what lies behind them, waiting for you.

Ghost grunted in response, tugging you with him and having you stumble on your own two feet. The wood was rough and sharp on your soles, slicing tiny splinters into your skin. Shoes weren’t needed in your village unless it was winter, and even then, the grass was always enough to consume them in warmth. Now, you were regretting not owning a pair.

“In you go,” Ghost uttered once he had the door pulled open, shoving you down a small flight of stairs towards the lower section of the ship. It was dingy and unlit, the only light seeping in being the moonlight from a tiny window.

Once inside, you recognized your new home as a cell. Barred and caged in, being tossed inside carelessly. There was nothing but a cot and a bucket to relieve yourself. It was completely empty and void of comfort.

Ghost shut the cell door, locking it with an annoyed grunt. You hadn’t even noticed him pull out the set of keys to open it for you, nor had you noticed when he locked you in. You watched as he thrusted the keys in his back pocket, the only evidence of its presence being the small glint of metal from the moon’s light.

“Wait!” you cried out when he turned to leave. You scrambled on the cell floor, hands wrapping around the cold bars. He paused his walk, throwing you a look of disinterest. “You can’t just leave me in here!”

Ghost snorted in what you dared to say amusement. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist, princess. You’ll be of use soon enough.”

Ignoring your pleas, he stepped up the stairs and returned to the main deck, shutting the door and leaving you utterly alone. Silence filled the air apart from the calming waves of the sea, though it did nothing to soothe you. You were helpless, deprived of any form of escape.

You spent what felt like hours on the floor of your cell, weeping into your own hands, silently praying to a God to release you. When nobody came to your rescue, you knew it was far too late for a miracle. This would be your new life, your new home, for as long as they kept you alive.

Part of you wished they would’ve just killed you instead.

2K notes · View notes

madamaryxx · 7 months ago

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⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪ match my freak !!

ᝰ.ᐟ the two of you are private not secret, but when the media starts to speculate that the two of you are no longer together, neither of you are too happy. the best way to get everyone to stop with the breakup rumors? posting something a little bit nasty to the feed to satiate everyone's curiosity. (fem!reader)

featuring tobio kageyama, atsumu miya, tetsurou kuroo, wakatoshi ushijima, tooru oikawa, rintarou suna content contains breeding kink (atsumu, wakatoshi), pregnant reader (wakatoshi), famous!reader (changes depending on scenario), creampie (tetsurou), hatefucking (not really, you + kuroo just like to antagonize each other but the attraction is there), scratches on his back (tobio), hickeys (tooru), wet n messy (rintarou), possessive!character x possessive!reader (the two of you are obsessed with each other ok), social media references lol author's notes i'm definitely doing a blue lock version, i'm just seeing if this is a popular premise lol <3 based off this original concept !! these are just silly little drabbles for me to warm up to the idea of writing again haha

౨ৎ TOBIO KAGEYAMA

your fans are speculating: that you and kageyama have broken up. fans are recording footage from you on your latest tour and claim that you're "clearly disassociating" and "somewhere else mentally" when it comes to singing your iconic love songs. you and kageyama have always kept your relationship private because he's not a very open person to begin with, and you don't want to give the media more material to misconstrue. you know that kageyama hates when some random person will annotate your verses on genius lyrics and try to make the claim that your innocent metaphor is you wanting to jump ship and leave kageyama. and you hate how it's your own fans who are making wild accusations of you no longer being with the man all your love songs are about.

you posted: kageyama, with his back turned to the camera so all that fills your camera is the surprisingly broad expanse of his muscular back and shoulders. he's not even flexing, and it's obvious that he's a world-class athlete. he's facing the closet, trying to find a shirt to put on, and it would be a semi-innocent photo, the pinterest-perfect photo inspo for every private not secret relationship out there, except for the fact that there are clearly faint, red lines — scratches — running down his back. you caption the photo with a "monday morning 🤍" (your insane fans spam the comment section to exclaim how they knew you two were still a thing... and to speculate that this photo is somehow an easter egg for an upcoming song/album. well, they're right: you two will always be a thing, and tobio dicked you down so good last night that you could write him a whole album.)

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

"fuck," the word slips through his gritted teeth, and you can tell that your tobio is still upset about how your fans seem divided. half of them claim no one could ever make them hate tobio (you find those fans to be absolutely adorable), and the other half...

well, the other half are making slideshow posts to audios that go "some boys take a beautiful girl and hide her away from the rest of the world" and the ones that seem to go viral are always the ones that feature you and tobio.

"not hidin' you away." he mutters, never slowing down his thrusts. he admires the expression on your face as he fucks into you, his ego pleased with how receptive you are to his every movement. he has you speared on his cock, your tight little cunt full of him, your eyes getting so adorably teared-up because he's just a little bit too much for you to handle. tobio isn't good with words; he thinks you're the most beautiful girl to exist, but he can't verbalize it. so he just takes in your sweet, fucked-out face, the reaction only he's capable of drawing from you, and it all gets so overwhelming for him.

he has to bury his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling the sweet scent of your body wash as he continues to bully his cock into your soaked pussy. "why's it bad if i want to keep you all to myself?" he's practically whining, and you think this would be so cute if only you weren't currently chasing after your release. or rather, tobio's forcing you to cum, whether you want to or not. it's not like you can stop him; tobio devotes himself to always ensuring that you finish before him. he likes the satisfaction of knowing only he can take care of you, and he especially likes the way his cock looks with you creaming all over it.

when he gets like this, all you can do is cling to him, your arms wrapped around his muscular build. when he gets rough with his thrusts, when his body gets just the slightest bit sweaty from the exertion (evidence of just how much work he puts into fucking you), you have to dig your manicured nails (the set he paid for) into the skin of his toned back. otherwise, you'd lose your grip, and your hands would slip off.

tobio relishes the slight stinging pain of your nails scratching down his skin. but the scratches aren't enough. he needs to make you cum. when you get so caught up in your climax, you start clawing at him as you lose control. he loves the scratches you leave on him; it's proof that he's yours just as much as you are his.

౨ৎ ATSUMU MIYA

haters are saying: that you're just using atsumu for content. you're a gold digger. you're not genuine. you're not "wifey material." spectators are claiming that atsumu is playing worse than before because he's too "pussywhipped" for you. well, he likes to cheekily admit to you that he is addicted to your pussy, but they're wrong about everything else. obviously. however, the haters are feeling very vindicated whenever they see atsumu hasn't been posting you as much. (you're traveling for a new vlog series on your page, but no one knows.)

he posted: a mirror selfie. which isn't breaking news. atsumu miya always breaks the internet when he posts a mirror selfie because the only thing worse than a hot guy is a hot guy who knows he's hot. no one is a stranger to the sight of a post-workout, sweaty, shirtless atsumu, who flaunts his tight abs and muscular thighs with a steamy mirror selfie. but this photo? this one is going triple platinum. it's going down in history. this selfie is taken in dim lighting; the curtains in the background are drawn shut, he's got one hand gripping his phone (making the phone look tiny in his big hand), and he's got one arm wrapped around you. it's not an innocent hug, though. he's cupping your ass, and the phone in front of his face does nothing to shield his satisfied smirk. you're clad in nothing but lacy lingerie from a designer who loves to sponsor you, and you're clinging to his side, almost like you can't even stand without his support. it's clear that the two of you definitely were... appreciating the work your favorite designer put in when they created that lacy set.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

"what do you think?" you're smiling at him, knowing damn well what he's thinking.

atsumu looks up at you, reflexively licking his lips as he takes in the sight of you wearing a new set of lingerie that you just got delivered. it leaves little room for imagination, and the material looks so delicate, atsumu is already thinking about how he'll have to apologize to the designer for ripping it off of you.

"i think I'm the luckiest man alive right now." atsumu is shameless in the way he's admiring you, the way the setting sun still peeks through the curtains, enveloping your body in a delicious golden glow as you inch closer and closer to him.

in a matter of seconds, he's pulling you on top of him, placing wet, sloppy kisses over any centimeter of your skin he can reach. when you make a move to slip off the panties, he protests.

"leave 'em on f'me, baby. please?"

he fucks you with you still wearing the lingerie set. your breasts are spilling out of the bra, and all he did was move your panties to the side so he could stretch you out with his cock.

"fuckin' idiots, tellin' me you're not good enough to marry. i'll show 'em what a good girl you are, right? gonna put a ring on your finger, and make you my wife." he's fucking his cock into you, making sure that your cute cunt knows who it belongs to. "gonna fuck a baby into you, sweetheart. no one's gonna say shit about our family, huh? 'cause i won't let 'em."

your cunt clenches up so nicely with every comment he makes that atsumu knows he has to make all those pussydrunk promises come true.

౨ৎ TETSUROU KUROO

the tabloids are posting: paparazzi photos of you — the socialite daughter of the man who owns the msby black jackals, and jva's promotion division's golden boy, tetsurou kuroo. it's late at night, and the two of you are clearly leaving a party celebrating the success of another eventful volleyball season. you're wearing the iconic ysl heels with a black mini-dress that honestly should be called a micro-dress. your hair is a mess, you're walking like your knees are struggling not to wobble, and walking three steps behind you despite his longer stride is kuroo; his tie is crooked, his cheeks are flushed, and he has a grin that says something like i just fucked one of the richest bratty heiresses in japan, and i left her wanting more. the amount of blind items that are allegedly alluding to you and kuroo are being spread all over tiktok. one reads, "this sports club heiress was seen exiting a party with this semi-known marketing mastermind who works in the sports industry. apparently, they couldn't keep their hands off each other, and no one can recall seeing them together during the party; everyone only caught glimpses of them running away from the festivities together."

you posted: a photo slideshow on instagram of your absolutely iconic outfit from the party, only these photos were clearly taken before the party. your hair is done, your makeup is perfect, and your caption states don't believe everything you read. the last slide is a screenshot of an online headline speculating about your "new man" with a photo of a grinning kuroo from that night. the reason why this makes everyone go insane is because you're no stranger to a scandal — this is, however, the first time you've ever addressed a headline.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

"hurry up," you hiss, your eyes darting from left to right as you make sure no one is nowhere near the secluded corridor kuroo somehow managed to find.

"y'know, i thought girls were supposed to like guys who don't blow their loads prematurely." even when he's bullying his cock into your slicked up cunt, savoring the way your sensitive walls are clenching around his dick, tetsurou has a very annoying habit of still sounding entirely in control. for someone who can't keep his hands to himself when it comes to you, he's irritatingly great at playing nonchalant.

but he's just a man, after all. he might tower over you, his large body shielding you from any prying eyes, and he might know your body so well that he can bring you to completion twice (once with his fingers curling against that special spot of yours, and another one so rudely wrung out from you when he slid his cock in your orgasm-recovering, overly sensitive pussy) in just the fifteen minutes he's been toying with you tonight, but you know that he must be feeling something. you saw him shift his pants the moment his eyes met yours from across the room, when his eyes travelled down your body and followed the way your dress emphasized the curvatures of your body.

"if you don't finish right now, i'm not going to let you cum inside." you threaten him, trying to steady your voice as you bite back a moan. it'd be a major issue if the two of you got caught, with the volleyball association's golden boy being buried balls-deep inside a sports team owner's bratty daughter.

with every sharp snap of his hips, kuroo is only forcing more slick to come gushing out of your pussy. he can't even take the time to admire the white ring you left around his cock; he's too focused on chasing after his release because he didn't get to where he's at by not being opportunistic.

"if i cum inside, you have to keep it in your panties the whole night. you wouldn't want that, would you?" he sounds a little breathless now, his pace quickening as his thrusts get sloppier. he's smiling at you, that damn annoying smile that makes you want to roll your eyes or insult him. but your body betrays you. his grin only widens when your pussy tightens up at the idea of having his cum soaking in your panties while you interact with people at this party. a dirty little secret shared only between you two.

he lets out a breathy chuckle at your body's betrayal. "okay, princess. since you want it so badly, i guess i better give it to you."

you could practically cum again the minute you feel the warmth of him finishing inside of you. you're a spoiled brat who gets what she wants, and while you refuse to admit it, you want him. all of him.

and he's going to give it to you.

౨ৎ WAKATOSHI USHIJIMA

the media is going crazy over: the fact that ushijima is the type of person who doesn't clarify anything because he just assumes that everyone can read his mind. he's blunt, sure, but he's not really the type who does much explaining. after the first game of the season, an interviewer asks him if he enjoyed spending the off-season with you, his girlfriend and one of the most beloved, fan-favorite WAGs of all time. ushijima stares straight into the camera as he states in his usual deep, flat rumble of a voice, "the off-season was successful, but she isn't my girlfriend anymore. thank you." and then he just walks off, like he didn't just drop the most insane piece of information ever?

he posted: a photo of an ultrasound that was clearly taken out of his wallet since it's thrown on the table in the background. he's holding it in his left hand, and the overhead lighting is reflected from the silver wedding band he's wearing. now that he's off the court, he's able to wear it. in typical ushijima fashion, there is no caption, but a picture is worth a thousand words. you're not his girlfriend. you're his wife, and soon to be mother of his child.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

"mmph — 'toshi!" you squeal out, your calves burning from the stretch as your beloved wakatoshi has your legs bent and spread for him. he's just so big that you'd never be able to handle all of him, and yet, here you are, bent into a mating press every night since the two of you have gotten married. you try to beg him to slow down, but words escape you as he buries himself into your pussy, letting out a deep, guttural groan as the warmth of your cunt coats his cock. there's no better feeling than this.

even if you could request for him to slow down, it wouldn't have mattered or made much of a difference. your husband has a one-track mind. when wakatoshi is set on a goal, it's hard to break his focus until he sees it to the end. and right now, wakatoshi's goal is to fuck a baby into you, to see you round with life because of the seeds he planted.

he's hunched over you, abs tightening and flexing with every sharp inhale of breath he takes. he's gonna fuck himself empty, going to keep filling your cunt with his seed 'til he's shooting blanks. his eyes glance at the ring he put on your finger before returning to admire your blissful expression and the way your body seems to have gone boneless from all the fucking he's had you endure.

"just a little bit longer." he manages to say, before forcing his cock in even deeper. "just have to make sure it takes."

౨ৎ TOORU OIKAWA

everyone is claiming: long distance relationships never last. when oikawa makes the shocking announcement that he is no longer a japanese citizen, everyone immediately wondered what that meant for the future of your relationship. does that mean it's over? officially? if oikawa is leaving behind his hometown, then by default, is he leaving you behind too?

he posted: a photo slideshow, only most of the images were clearly taken by you. the first one is of him driving; the two of you are in his convertible, and he's wearing a white button down with most of the buttons undone. on the stark white of the shirt are kiss marks; the imprint of your lips lined with cherry-red lipstick are all over the material of his shirt and on his freshly-tanned skin. the other photos are of what you two ate for dinner, the sunset from the beach, and a selfie of you two looking more in love than ever. fans are quick to point out the massive hickey on your neck, and tooru tags you in a reply to the top comment that points it out, and he's saying "you missed a spot babe." you reply back, "i ran out of concealer because you gave me too many to cover"

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

"i missed you," your boyfriend mumbles into your soft skin. tooru can get so clingy when he goes long periods without seeing you, and you indulge him because he's tooru. he's got his face buried in the space between your shoulder and neck, and his breath is warm against your skin as he speaks.

"everyone is saying i'm abandoning you, but that's not true." he whines.

"i know, baby. i don't care." you laugh softly, absentmindedly playing with the soft strands of his hair. he settles into you, and it's almost sweet, until he starts nipping at your skin.

"tooru, what are you doing?" you can't find it in yourself to chastise him too harshly, but you do have to restrain yourself from pulling back.

"jus' want to show everyone that you're still my girl." he peers up at you, licking his lips. "you'll let me do that, won't you?"

tooru bites and sucks at your skin, sharp canines grazing your soft flesh. he sucks at your most sensitive areas while he works his fingers in and out of your gushing cunt. when he pulls his fingers out and holds them up, so the sunlight can shine and really highlight how much of your juices is coating his digits, he smiles. his girl gets this wet just from him marking you up?

as he sucks on his fingers, relishing in the way you taste, he can't help but be happy to know that no matter how far away the two of you are from each other (for now), you're still his girl.

౨ৎ RINTAROU SUNA

your fans are telling you: suna doesn't care about you. suna doesn't put forth any effort into your relationship. suna literally streams on twitch during the off-season yet he can't seem to ever post you?? suna doesn't deserve you. suna—

suna is a lot of things, but nothing like the deadbeat, ashamed boyfriend allegations. in fact, all your well-meaning fans are so far off on how he treats you that you and him get a good laugh from the outrageous conclusions they've jumped to.

you posted: a photo of rintarou with his head on your lap, and you've got your fingers playing with his hair. it's a sweet photo, really. except for the fact that you decided to pair it with an audio that's a snippet of a song that goes "he's so pretty when he goes down on me" and a caption that reads this song is so relatable 🤍

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

anyone who thinks rintarou is a selfish lover, a lazy lover, someone who merely tolerates you or is ashamed to be with you... they clearly don't know either of you very well.

because even when he's exhausted from practice, rintarou comes home craving you. craving your sweetness, your warmth, your love — and your pussy. he's obsessed. rintarou suna loves to eat you out, and he does it with such passion, such enthusiasm, that it's hard to refuse him, even if he's been going at it for the past hour.

your juices are leaving a stain on the bedsheets, and your slick is coating your inner thighs. it doesn't help that rintarou is messy with his technique. he needs your legs spread for him, granting him easy access for him to just dig in. he's still in his practice jersey, and when he feels your grip loosening from the strands of hair you're tugging at, he'll slow down his pace, calming down to just tiny kitten licks while he peers up at you.

your head is thrown back in pleasure, and your hips have a mind of their own as they still jut forward, as if trying to bring your cunt impossibly closer to him. no need for that, really, seeing as how he craves to bury himself in your warmth, to suck on your cute little clit and have you humming all over his tongue.

"rinnie." you whine out, still subconsciously bucking up your hips. he smiles before resuming his original ministrations, gluttonous and greedy with how sloppy and hungry he is with you. if you're still capable of talking, then you're not too fucked out to not allow him to get his fill.

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madamaryxx · 7 months ago

Text

☽ : Jujutsu Kaisen masterlist 、 ★

𑀣 = NSFW ㅤㅤ 𖥻 = angst ㅤㅤㅤ⟡ = fluff

݁ ✦ SATORU GOJO

JJK Men: Dreaming about you after your death 𖥻

JJK Men: Valentine's Day Special ⟡

JJK Men: Unrequited feelings 𖥻

Gojo smut + NSFW audio 𑀣

݁ ✦ SUGURU GETO

JJK Men: Dreaming about you after your death 𖥻

JJK Men: Valentine's Day Special ⟡

JJK Men: Unrequited feelings 𖥻

Geto smut + NSFW audio 𑀣

݁ ✦ KENTO NANAMI

JJK Men: Dreaming about you after your death 𖥻

JJK Men: Valentine's Day Special ⟡

Thinking about Nanami... ⟡

Nanami is the kind who... 𑀣

JJK Men: Unrequited feelings 𖥻

Nanami smut + suggestive audio 𑀣

Ex-husband!Nanami 𑀣 𖥻

݁ ✦ CHOSO KAMO

JJK Men: Dreaming about you after your death 𖥻

JJK Men: Valentine's Day Special ⟡

JJK Men: Unrequited feelings 𖥻

Sub! Choso 𑀣

Choso smut + NSFW audio 𑀣

݁ ✦ TOJI FUSHIGURO

JJK Men: Dreaming about you after your death 𖥻

Thinking about Toji... 𖥻

JJK Men: Valentine's Day Special ⟡

Jealousy 𑀣

JJK Men: Unrequited feelings 𖥻

Toji smut + NSFW audio 𑀣

݁ ✦ RYOMEN SUKUNA

JJK Men: Dreaming about you after your death 𖥻

JJK Men: Valentine's Day Special ⟡

Sukuna won't confess... ⟡

JJK Men: Unrequited feelings 𖥻

Sukuna smut + NSFW audio 𑀣

݁ ✦ HIROMI HIGURUMA

Higuruma smut + NSFW audio 𑀣

⠀

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madamaryxx · 7 months ago

Text

Higuruma smut + N$FW audio

• minors do not interact!

──── When Higuruma has a particularly stressful day, he can only truly relax by having his cock buried in you, stimulating you to the maximum to hear those sweet whimpers of pleasure.

"Do you like that, baby?" Higuruma's voice is deep and husky as he thrusts into you, his skillful fingers playing with your clitoris with the intention of bringing you to orgasm. He smiles as you frantically nod your head, a loud moan escaping from your open mouth as you lie there, sprawled and fucked against the pillows.

"Uh? Do you like how my cock is stretching you?" He teases, and you know he's still smiling as he says it. Tilting his hips to hit your G-spot with each thrust, Higuruma can't help but kiss you with an open mouth as you sigh and whimper from the intense pleasure, feeling yourself getting closer and closer to your orgasm.

"Oh, Hiromi, fuuuck " You already feel so dumb, babbling nonsense and moaning freely as you teeter on the edge. "Are you going to cum for me, baby? Come on, moan for me, let everyone know who treats this pussy so well..." He urges as your orgasm starts to hit you hard.

Your pussy is squeezing Higuruma's cock, your walls vibrating deliciously around him as he lets out a deep growl that makes his fingertips dig into the skin of your hips.

Your moans are loud and high-pitched, echoing through the room and drowning out the creaking of the bed. "That's it, sweetie, just like that" He smiles, hearing you curse and moan his name desperately as he ravenously kisses your mouth. "You can take a little more, can't you? You have no idea how much I need to fill you with my cum, sweetheart ".

⠀

Higuruma's version! Thank you again to everyone who was willing to help me with the audio issue <3

Do you have another character suggestion? Let me know who else you would like to see here.

Your interaction is very important to me, reblogs and comments are always welcome 🫶🏻💕

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madamaryxx · 8 months ago

Note

Do ghosts count as ‘monsters’? Cause if they do imagine moving into a haunted house and suddenly waking up in the middle of the night feeling surprisingly full, looking down and not seeing anything. Or bending over the kitchen island while reading through some mail, skimpy shorts and a skimpy top on when you suddenly start getting pounded from behind… OR WANDERING HANDS WHILE YOURE IN THE SHOWER, ugh so many ideas…so many hot ideas 😞😞

Someone else asked: Hi! Would you make more ghost content, please? Like a horror fan moving into a haunted house, then getting randomly and repeatedly getting sexy surprises or something. Uh, if you're interested, that is. If not, don't worry about it. :)

Hi anons! Ghost def count as monsters. You can find another story about ghosts here and a short txt here. This one went way overboard with and I'm in fucking love with it, it's probably top 5 hottest things I've ever written. Hope you like it!

Spectro-cum

Ghosts x fem!human || free use, groping, dub-con

You didn’t think ghost existed until you found yourself living in a haunted house.

When you saw the price of rent you didn’t think twice about moving in. It was so cheap and the house was so big, and the pics looked phenomenal. You should have asked yourself why it was so cheap in the current housing market. You should have guessed it was wrong in some way. And it was.

Things started to become weird when things moved on their own. At first, they just moved some keys, opened some doors… No big deal, you weren’t going to move out of a great house just because there were a few ghosts living there. They didn’t pay rent, but you didn’t care about roommates. It was okay, just annoying, but okay. You found your stuff soon enough, the cabinets and doors could be closed. You were fine.

Then the touching started. You were bending down to grab something under the sofa when you felt something pinching your ass. You screamed, startled and a bit mad. You turned around, but nobody was there. Of course nobody was, they were fucking ghosts in your haunted house. Dang. What started as a pinch developed into caressing your ass, your legs, your neck… They let their ghostly hands caress your body every once in a while, making you shiver and frown. But it was still not enough to kick you out of a good house. You could deal with the ghosts, the housing market not so much.

But it didn’t end there. They started groping you. You woke up one day with what felt like hands holding you down, you trashed and tried to get free as ghostly laughs sounded around your room. You cursed them as they undressed you and played with your tits for what felt like hours. Probably was. They pinched and twisted and sucked on your nipples until they were puffy and oversensitive, until your pussy was so wet you could hear the slickness every time you rubbed your thighs together. And they didn’t even make you come, they just disappeared when they got tired. You had to touch yourself after. Fucking ghosts.

The groping started to be a bit annoying. You could be bending down and someone pulled your panties down and probed your asshole. You cursed them and they left with a laugh. Another time you were doing laundry and ghostly hands held you inside the washing machine like you were in a bad porno. They poured some detergent on your ass and fondled you until they got bored. At some point, they ripped your clothes off and started groping you in the middle of the hallway. You liked that shirt, damn it.

And then they went beyond all you were expecting. You were showering one morning and you felt the water turning cold, their latest discovery, making your nipples pebble under the spray. You cursed out loud when you heard the ghostly laugh and the water stopped. And then they stopped playing. Hands grabbed your arms and pinned them to the wall, more hands took your ankles and held them apart. Another hand started pinching and caressing your boobs, making you groan involuntarily, your pussy getting wet. You didn’t know how many of them there were, but the amount of hands you could feel in your body said at least four.

One of them took upon himself to spread your pussy lips, spreading your wetness all over your clit and frantically rubbing it. Your legs gave out under their assault, but they didn’t let you fall. They held you in the air as you felt a dick being shoved inside of you. You cried out as he hit your G-spot repeatedly, some fingers kept rubbing your pussy. And without a second to spare, the one fucking you came, you felt him twitching and shooting inside of you. You looked down and there was some kind of blue liquid leaking out of you, sticky and slimy. Gross. The next one took his place, same thing. A few dozen thrusts and they were coming inside of you. When they all finished and you were dripping, they took upon themselves to pinch every sensible place of your body until you came. They released you then, your pussy a mess of spectro-cum and your body spent after being tag-teamed by ghosts. Fucking ghosts.

From that point on, it was like a magical limit had been lifted. They used you wherever and whenever they feel like it. It was weird the moment of the day that you didn’t have some ghost cum dripping down your legs. You opted out of wearing panties a couple days ago, tired of having them ruined. You stopped wearing pants, too, what was the point if they’ll end up messy either way.

They had no limits, and they had no worries about you either. They didn’t care if you were awake or asleep, eating or busy with something. One second you were reading through your mail and you felt a cock filling you to the brim, pounding into you without any preamble. They didn’t even try to satisfy you anymore, they just used you as a cum-dump for their come, jerking themselves inside of your pussy and leaving soon after. You sighed and kept doing whatever you were doing at the moment, tired and sore, but so turned on that it was almost painful.

Usually they used you one at a time, giving you a while to get yourself together and do some stuff around the house before you felt another cock shoved inside. But sometimes they didn’t even wait a few minutes. Sometimes not even seconds. One cock was pulled out and another was pushed in, making impossible for you to get anything done the whole morning. It was maddening, and annoying… And made you so fucking hot you were horny all day long. You had to rub one off multiple times a day to relieve some of the pent up sexual frustration of being fucked and ignored all day. Fucking ghosts.

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