#and left a mere finger twitch in return

[ohforficsake]

💯💯💯

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[6toru]

𝑾𝑯𝒀 𝑼𝑺𝑬 𝑨 𝑻𝑶𝒀 𝑾𝑯𝑬𝑵 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑯𝑨𝑽𝑬 𝑴𝑬? — gojo satoru.

imagine gojo fucking you with the dildo you bought to prepare yourself for his big dick 🧎‍♀️

cw. 18+ content mdni, dildo fucking & explicit language | wc. 2.2k

author's note. another one of my works from my previous blog ! happy reading <3

The first time you stumbled across 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 freshly out of the shower, all naked and bare, the first thing your eyes caught sight of was that obscene baguette of a cock hanging between his legs. By then, you were convinced that he wasn't going to fit – at least, not easily. Your thesis was later proven to be correct when you had your first time with the ivory-haired male; tears immediately welling up in your eyes as you cried out in sheer pain. Of course, your boyfriend stopped his actions, making it his top priority to ensure your comfort and wellbeing. Since then, he didn't make any more advances – offering only his mouth and fingers for your pleasure, despite your many pleas telling him that you're ready.

It had been nearly a month now, and you had finally taken matters into your own hands. After all, desperate times called for desperate measures. While Satoru was off on a mission, you stared intently at the laptop screen, scrolling through the myriad of sex toys that are put on sale. What better way is there to stop your lovely boyfriend from holding himself back any longer than to buy a dildo to prepare yourself for him? Undeniably the mere image of his twitching cock being held down by the confines of his boxers and trousers made your mouth water. Eventually, after a couple minutes, you click on checkout.

It’s the next day, and your boyfriend is still away for a mission, and you find yourself staring at the box sitting in front of your door in surprise — honestly, you had expected it to come in a week. But then again, you’re back to business. Rushing back inside your abode, you plop the box down onto the kitchen table, tearing the cardboard with a scissor in nimble movements. Lo and behold, the extra large rainbow dildo rests upon the palms of your hands.

Blushing, you stare down at the lewd toy and you gulp.

You plop yourself back onto the comfort of your soft mattress; the freshly washed dildo and the small bottle of lube splayed out across the bed. at this point, you were already bare – your bra being the only garment left on your body. Leaning back on the mattress, your back makes contact with the soft and gentle plush of your pillow. You stretch your legs wide open and lick a thin stripe of saliva against your finger, rubbing it against your folds. A hitched breath escapes from your lips as you align the tip of the dildo with your aching hole. God, you desperately wish it's your boyfriend instead.

All you can think about is Satoru; his body above yours, his eyes staring lovingly into yours as his soft lips graze against your own. You shut your eyes closed, softly biting onto your lip as you press the large tip against your entrance —

“Guess who’s home~” The door suddenly opens and in barges your boyfriend, and as if the angels had sent him a message because of how much you have missed him, he finally returns from his week long mission. However within seconds, you both jumped in surprise — despite wearing his blindfold, you could tell by the way his mouth was agape that his eyes were ogling at the sight of a dildo pressed against your slick cunt. “Rainbow?”

As an immediate response, you cross your legs together and tossed the toy to the side; feeling an intense wave of embarrassment wash over your whole entire body. You want to evaporate, you really do. Your face feels undeniably warm, looking at your boyfriend bashfully. “Welcome home, ‘Toru.”

Without any words, Satoru makes long strides to the bed and he presses his lips onto yours, almost greedily; his fingers trails to the back of your head, cupping it as he kisses you deeper. Shortly after, he pulls away from your lips, leaving a thin string of saliva connecting your lips together. you can only look at him, both aroused and embarrassed.

“Were you planning on surprising me with this, my love?” Your boyfriend questions you, tearing the black fabric off his face; revealing his cerulean eyes blown out in arousal. You can barely utter a response, the embarrassment is simply too much for you to bear.

“Can't say that i'm too happy about this, though. Seein' you use a plastic dick instead of my own is making me a lil' jealous, y'know?”

You press a soft kiss against his cheek, looking at the male bashfully, “I'm sorry baby, i just wanted to prepare myself so I can take you better. That’s all.”

As if your words have ignited some sort of flame within him, all signs of fatigue from his mission has evaporated and he pulls you in for another heated kiss. “You’re so fuckin’ cute,” he says in between kisses, “you know that?”

You’re unable to reply, your brain already feeling mushed from the way his lips mold so nicely against yours and his hands brushing against your thighs. You can only hum against his lips, though you’re barely keeping track of what he’s saying. But when you see his hand travel towards the toy, you felt your cheeks heat up even more when he decides to lube it once more upon inspecting it.

“Out of everything, why rainbow?”

“it’s the closest thing to your size,” you reply, your voice soft yet it’s dripping in arousal. “I didn’t want you to keep holding back for my sake.”

Satoru glanced down at the toy and right back at you, grinning cockily. “Cute. I hope you know that this is still pretty small compared to my dick.”

he leans to your ear, playfully slapping the toy against your pussy. “Say, baby. Do you mind if I help you prepare?”

Fuck. How can you say no to that? You nod your head eagerly towards your boyfriend, unable to control your desperation and arousal. Your gaze trails down towards Satoru’s trousers and you could immediately feel your mouth water — the sight of his fat cock restrained by the confines of the tight fabric is a sight you’ve definitely missed seeing.

You softly gasp at the sudden, cool sensation of the lube being sprayed onto your folds and then your eyes rolling back shortly after when he sticks his long and thick finger inside your heat — effortlessly kissing your g-spot with the tips of his thick fingers before pulling away, eliciting a small whine from you.

“you’re already squeezing so tightly around my finger,” Satoru comments, a sly smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “How are you going to take this dildo, let alone my dick, inside you?”

“I…” you try to find the words to speak, but a shocked squeak merely escaped your throat when he squirted a little bit of lube onto your juicy cunt; the cool liquid making your body jump slightly. Satoru chuckles softly at your reaction, leaning into your face to press a chaste kiss on your lips. “Sorry, hehe, you’re too cute I couldn’t help myself.”

He slides the tip of the dildo along your folds; starting from your clit to down your hole, pushing the tip ever so slightly to elicit a reaction out of you. You shiver slightly at the sensation, thrusting your hips softly against the plastic toy. There's no denying that you feel embarrassment washing over your entire being, yet there's also something awfully arousing about being at his complete submission.

“Try to relax yourself, 'kay baby?” You can hear Satoru's low voice ringing in your ears, dripping in complete arousal. You hum in response, eagerly nodding your head as you await his actions with your lips bitten in anticipation.

“Imagine that it’s my cock fucking you,” satoru says, chuckling deeply, “nice and deep.”

The moment he inserts the tip inside you, your toes immediately curl — your arms scrambling to find solace in his broad and brawny shoulders; your body writhing beneath his as he pushes the toy even deeper, deliciously stretching your velvety walls with his slow movements.

“Shit,” The ivory-haired male lets out a needy groan, his cerulean gaze locked onto your pussy; taking in the pornographic sight of your folds sucking the toy back in each time he pulls away — he’s unable to look away; he wants to see more.

“Baby, you think you take it even deeper?”

The sultry tone in Satoru’s voice sends immediate shocks of arousal straight to your heat, arching your back in delight when he presses his palm against the end of the dildo — pushing it deeper. He grins almost maniacally, relishing in the way you whimper so desperately for him; begging him to use his dick in lieu of a plastic toy.

“S-Satoru… please — I wan’ your cock so badly… Mmh—Oh!”

A loud mewl rips from your throat, your eyes widening as he slams the toy all the way; the head of the rainbow plastic cock planting a kiss on your cervix. You dig your nails deeper into his skin, your lips latching onto his shoulder to mask the desperate moans that threaten to escape your lips. Satoru licks his lips, his jaw clenching at your cute reactions.

He’s tempted, and that's an understatement — he's beyond horny and desperate, yet there's an inkling of curiosity egging him on; wanting to see how you'd react if it was his fat cock instead. He brushes a finger on your face, bringing a strand of hair behind your ear; leaving whispers of praise. After all, you’re taking the dildo so fucking well. He watches, amused, as he pulls the toy back – his eyes glued onto your slick juices coating the ridges before he slams in back inside, laughing almost sadistically when you let out a cry.

It isn't long before he increases his speed, his lips whispering sweet nothings in your ears as he relentlessly fucks the dildo inside your wall, and t's taking everything within him to ignore the ache dwelling in his pants – twitching within the confines of his boxers as he continues to pleasure you.

"F-fuck! 'Toru–mm! Please, baby, I-I'm so fuckin' close please I want your dick so badly – I p-promise i can take it now – Ah!"

Jaws slacked and eyes blown out in lust, he stares keenly at the juices trickling down your gaping hole; your thighs trembling and jumping each and every time he slams the rainbow toy inside you.

"Is that right?" Satoru grunts, licking his lips. He increases the fervour with his thrusts, beads of sweat trickling down his forehead as he imagines that it's his own cock going in and out of you.

"You're doing so fuckin' good, baby – takin' that toy like a fuckin' champ, yeah? I'll give you my dick right after this. You just have to cum good for me, 'kay?"

His groans comes in tandem with your lewd moans as nears you to your release. He truly revels the way your hips rock frantically against his hands, moaning desperately against his shoulder before you tense on the spot – your juices spraying all over his hand, dampening the bedsheets and a loud cry of his name leaves your trembling lips.

"Mmm... shit." Satoru sighs, staring down at you as he unbuckles his belt with ease, and your eyes snap over to his boxers; your mouth instantly watering at the sight of the humongous bulge as well as the pre-cum that dampened the grey fabric. A delicious sight. He slips out of the garment, almost teasingly and he laughs at the wanton look plastered across your face.

In languid movements, he rubs his giant dick in front of you; relishing in the sight of desperation that is plastered across your face while he teases you. "You've been so hungry for my cock, yeah? You're such a dirty, dirty girl."

"Please, 'Toru." you whimper, you can feel the tears of frustration slowly building up in your eyes. God, you want him so bad. Eventually, he returns to you; reconnecting his lips with yours in an arduous kiss. He leans you back to the mattress, his lips never once leaving yours as he unclasps your bra with one hand in ease. You gasp when you feel his hands immediately grasping at your soft mounds; his fingers rubbing, pulling and twisting at the erect buds.

When you pull away, a thin string of saliva is what was left that connected your lips together and you stare longingly at him through bated breaths — your breathing has gone even faster; your heart pounding against your chest as you watch Satoru align his cock to your needy cunt. It's going to happen now, you thought to yourself, biting your lips.

"Hey, baby. you think you can cum like that again?" He asks as he rubs his fat cock against your drenched folds, eliciting a sweet and needy moan from your lips.

Satoru has long lost his grasp on the remaining control he had on himself. There's a carnal look in his eyes, yet it only makes you all the more excited.

"I want you to cum like that on my dick this time, baby. You think you can give it to me?"

© 6TORU — do not copy, modify, or translate any of my works.

[screampied]

✧ ⁺˳ cw. fem! reader, soft dom nanami, praise, p in v, mdni.

husband nanami was a patient man. he treated you like glass, so delicate—he didn’t want to ever break you. with something as passionate as intimacy though, he made sure to go slow and take his precious time with you. after all, you were his baby. yet, there’d be one time where you ask for him to be a bit more rough. just a little, he playfully raises a eyebrow at you before swiping a thumb underneath your chin. “go r…rougher?” and his words were a mere sweet whisper.

“y- yes, ‘s okay, ‘ken,” you’d nod with a tiny tremor in your voice. as he’s giving you slow, deep strokes, the heel of your foot sensually rubs down against his back. pulling him closer to you, you coat the edge of his twitching pink lips with chaste kisses. “i can handle it, promise.”

“okay, sweetheart,” a soft, genuine smile pulls against the crevices of his mouth before he returns the kissing gesture, a candied mwah. grabbing your knees, he gently moves them up toward your jostling chest. “you’re so perfect,” he groans, hearing each lewd moan elicit out of your throat like it was nothing. “mhm, hold my hand. good girl,” he breathes, his sloppy hits against your core starting to quicken and you bite your lip. in a heaving voice, he buries his face into your neck. a strong musk of cologne wafting against your nostrils. “if you want me to go rougher, i’ll go rougher, my love. just for you.”

his pace was swift and gentle—mahogany colored irises of his continue to pour into your gaze. nanami feels his heart flutter once your arms wrap around him, pulling him close. with a single arm, you drag him further into you, another hand squeezing onto his. masses of fingers intertwine between each other as you moan from his touch. with nanami accelerating in a more quick pace, he presses a kiss against the bridge of your nose.

“t- this . . alright, sweetheart?” he asks in a soothing tone, an eyebrow entwining as he meets your loving stare. god, you were just so beautiful like this underneath him. he could stare at you all day and not get bored of your beauty right in front of him. “not going too hard, am i?”

“yes, ‘s good, baby.” you nod, feeling his grip against your left hand tighten just a bit more.

with a concise sharp piston of his hips, he’s more forward and he sibilates a groaning grunt the second he feels your soddened walls grip against him in such a compressing way. as if you thought you were clingy with nanami—your pussy was even greedier, hugging tightly onto his shaft as if you never wanted to let go. granted, you didn’t.

not now, not ever..

as you depart your fingers from his, you start to feel up against nanami’s bulky arm as he’s repeatedly jerking into you. he’s panting, blond strands of hair run down his face and he has to constantly shift his head back so he can look at you. he relishes in your cute expressions—his favorite part of intimacy was to just stare into those pretty eyes of yours that successfully captured his heart.

you moan again, your hand trailing down against the veins near his arms—he’s so beefy. your fingers then reach near his wrist. clammy digits of yours ghost against the frigid texture of his pricey g-shock that swaddles around his wrist. the watch’s been broken for years, but it was a gift from you so he still proudly wears it. flaunting it with a sweet smile on his face everytime.

“f- fuuuck,” you start to babble, feeling his twitching cock continue to pump you full of staggering inches. your ankles rub all against the outer sides of his back to where it almost tickles him. nanami’s moaning right with you—hot chest pressing up against yours. skin ruthlessly slapping so loud that it’s reverb echoes throughout the entire room. it’s like a song of its own, the bed chimes in to pitch a few notes as well from the constant melodic creaking. “don’t stop, kento. ‘s good, i love you.”

“sweetheart,” he inhales a sharp breath, dimples poking against the corners of his mouth. you’re so whiney, he grips against the fat of your thighs with a single hand before you feel him still bottoming out from the inside. “oh, dear. mhm, you drive me crazy, you know that?” and his voice was lighthearted, he was still moaning himself before he’s still stretching your walls out in the process. as his chest heaves, nanami presses a long, adoring kiss against your lips before he cups your chin. “i love you too. more than you could ever know..”

[streamofcolors]

ℑ 𝔞𝔪 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯𝔰.

Cregan Stark x Reader.

Summary: You become jealous when you see a serving girl attempt to seduce your husband.

Based on request: Hello love! I'd like to request a Cregan Stark x Reader piece where she sees him being touched on by some prostitutes at a feast, and she gets jealous. Smut or not, I'll leave it up to you.

Warnings: SMUT (mdni), p in v sex, unprotected sex, cowgirl, mutual orgasm.

Author's note: This was the last request in my inbox, so please feel free to send a request. 🖤

You return to the feast after putting your son to bed, leaving him in the capable hands of your dedicated servants. Upon entering the hall, you are greeted by the lively melodies reverberating within the stone walls. Some guests are dancing, and everyone appears to be enjoying the refreshments provided.

Cregan is seated at the head of the Great Hall. His solemn expression softens slightly as he notices your return. He raises his mug of beer to his lips and watches as you navigate through the crowd.

“My lord, would you like me to refill your mug?” one of the serving girls approaches Cregan.

He glances up at the serving girl before returning his gaze to you. You are stuck in a conversation with a lord you have mentioned disliking. A slight smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. Cregan sets his mug down and pushes it toward the girl, not bothering to take his eyes off you.

The serving girl exaggeratedly bends over the table to refill Cregan’s mug, her provocative eyes fixed on him.

His smile fades from his face as he notices the girl’s exaggerated movements from the corner of his eye. He chooses to ignore her obvious attempts to seduce him, clearly uninterested. The smile that was there before reappears as he thinks to himself, as if the girl is even a sliver of the woman you are.

“Congratulations on your son’s second name day, my lord,” the serving girl makes another attempt to capture Cregan’s attention, reaching out to gently touch his shoulder.

“Thank you,” Cregan responds gruffly, his gaze briefly falling on the girl’s hand on his shoulder. Unfazed, he reaches for his now-refilled mug of beer and lifts it to his mouth, taking a sip from it. His gaze returns to you as he speaks in a composed tone. “You may take your hand off me, girl.”

Your eyes harden as you make your way through the crowd, watching the serving girl attempt to seduce Cregan from a distance.

Cregan catches your darkened gaze from across the room, noticing the hardness in your eyes. He raises an eyebrow in response, as if daring you to say something.

“Excuse me, you’re blocking my seat,” you say as you reach the table, a hint of irritation in your voice as you address the serving girl.

The serving girl turns her head in your direction, and her seductive demeanour immediately falters. Her hand falls from Cregan’s shoulder as she realizes she is in your way. “Of course, my Lady,” she says, her voice lacking any sort of challenge. She steps aside so you can sit in the empty chair next to Cregan.

Instead of taking your seat, you approach Cregan and sit on his lap.

Cregan’s lips twitch into an amused smile. His hand immediately finds its way to your hip, his fingers gently caressing your skin through the material of your dress. He leans back in his chair and brings his mug to his mouth, taking another sip.

He lowers the mug from his mouth before speaking, his voice deep and husky. “Feeling possessive, are we, Lady Stark?”

“I am merely claiming what is rightfully mine,” you murmur as you watch the serving girl scurry away.

He lets out a low chuckle, the sound of it nearly lost in the noise of the feast. Cregan’s hand on your hip tightens its grip slightly. “Rightfully yours, indeed,” he agrees quietly, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

-

The wait until all your guests had left was tedious, but here you were, dragging Cregan back to your chamber. He stays silent as you drag him through the dimly lit corridors. He does not question where you are taking him because he already knows.

With each step, his pulse quickens in anticipation, his mind growing more and more clouded with thoughts of you. He wants you, needs you, yearns for you. He needs to feel you.

“Out, all of you. You are dismissed for the night,” you order the servants in your chamber as you drag Cregan inside. The servants, who were tidying your chamber and preparing it for the night, drop their tasks and quickly exit the chamber, leaving the two of you alone.

You close the distance between yourself and Cregan, pinning him against the door. Your fingers fumble to undo him of his cloak.

Cregan’s eyes darken with a mixture of anticipation and desire as he watches your fingers fumble with the clasps of his cloak. As his cloak falls to the ground with a thud, your hands move to the back of his head, pulling him in for a passionate kiss.

His lips meet yours hungrily, the intensity of the kiss almost overwhelming. His hands find their way to your hips, pulling you closer, wanting to feel the heat of your body against his own.

“Stupid girl, thinking she could seduce you,” you murmur against Cregan’s lips as you continue to undress him.

Cregan’s breath hitches as you speak, your words sending a shiver through his body. “She never stood a chance,” he agrees in a deep voice, his hands moving to the laces of your dress, loosening them with practiced fingers.

“You know I have no interest in other women,” he adds, a hint of amusement in his tone as he pushes your dress off your shoulders, his eyes wandering over your exposed shift.

You hum in response as you lift Cregan’s blue tunic over his head, your fingers hooking into his breeches and tugging him with you as you walk backward to the bed.

“Off,” you gesture to his breeches as you crawl onto the bed.

Cregan’s eyes darken at your command. He obeys without hesitation, unfastening the laces of his breeches and pushing them down along with his smallclothes. He follows you onto the bed with a sense of urgency, his body craving yours. He positions himself between your legs, his hands roaming over your thighs, pushing the bunched-up fabric of your shift even higher up.

Using all your strength, you manage to push Cregan onto his back. You move to straddle him, lifting your shift up over your head and tossing it to the side. The sight of you straddling him, bare and exposed, leaves Cregan breathless. His eyes roam over your body, taking in every curve, his hands instinctively reaching for your hips.

“Gods,” he groans, his fingers digging into your flesh, his voice strangled with desire.

You lean forward, hovering your face above Cregan’s. “You’re mine,” you murmur seductively. Your hardened nipples brushing against Cregan’s chest.

“I’m yours,” he agrees immediately, his voice rough with desire.

You sit back up and raise your hips, guiding Cregan’s hardened length towards your entrance. You gasp as you sink down on his length, your eyes fluttering shut at the familiar stretch.

Cregan’s head falls back against the furs, a guttural moan escaping his lips as you flutter around his length.

Your trembling hands rest on his muscular chest, stabilizing yourself as you begin to ride him at a slow pace.

Cregan’s heartbeat quickens beneath your hands. He watches you with a sense of awe and admiration, his eyes filled with longing. His hands are on your hips guiding your movements. He wants more, needs more.

You pick up your pace, your thrusting turning into desperate grinding, your face scrunching up with pleasure.

His hands tighten on your hips, and a low growl escapes from the back of his throat. He watches you intently, his eyes drinking in every expression you make. He craves to make you come undone. He plants his feet into the bed, thrusting up into you.

You slump forward, a whimper escaping your throat as Cregan thrusts up into you. Your head gently rests against the crook of his neck.

Cregan’s arms immediately wrap around you, holding you close against his chest. He can feel the heat of your breath against his skin, your body trembling against his.

“Oh, Cregan,” you gasp as your orgasm washes over you, your walls clenching around him.

The feeling of you clenching around him pushes Cregan over the edge. He buries his face in your shoulder, groaning lowly as he spills his seed inside of you.

You chuckle against Cregan’s neck, your breath coming out in shallow puffs. Your tired body slumps on top of him.

Cregan wraps his arms around you, holding you close. His fingers gently trace patterns along the curve of your back.

“I’m yours,” he whispers softly.

“You’re mine,” you repeat his words.

Cregan cranes his neck to press a gentle kiss to your temple. “Only yours,” he confirms, holding you tighter against him.

[rinachains]

true form!sukuna x gn!reader; mentions of cannibalism; sukuna deals with emotions (kind of); biting as a love language

The king of curses, seated on the soft upholstery of his bed with you facing him in his lap, ogling one of his bare arms as you trace the defined, bulging muscles with your fingertips, would surely paint an obscure picture to any intruder.

You’re so small underneath him, his cursed energy draped over you like a veil – shielding and trapping you - and he could crush you so easily, in a matter of a few seconds, and nothing and no one could stop him - except for you. And you don’t even have to do anything. You’re just sitting there, sharing each other’s warmth, while he observes you, one pair of his arms holding your sides, the other crossed over his chest. That’s all it takes.

Sukuna isn’t a whirlwind of emotions, he’s simple and aware of what feelings reside in him; he’s in control of himself. Not a victim of weak, futile desires. Not like other humans – that’s what makes him superior, a king.

So he knows how he feels about you; but not knowing what to think about it and what to do with it, he decides to listen to what his body and his mind are telling him, and he even finds himself listening to that irregular beat hidden behind the resilient muscles on the left side of his chest, one that he believed he’d never hear.

He once mistook the pit in his stomach for mere hunger, so he ate and he ate, but the hunger didn’t vanish, he was never fully satisfied, so he kept on eating and eating, tearing into flesh after flesh. Assuming that he was cursed with an unfulfilling life – a repetitive routine of killing and eating presumptuous humans who dared to cross him, providing little to no entertainment  - he figured that nothing would change and that he would continue to go on with this life.

And then you came along, and he felt hunger overtake him. However, it was different from simple hunger, it wasn’t just a growl in his stomach – there’s another spot inside of him that he didn't know existed until he met you. And that spot is reserved for you and you alone. No one else can fill it.

His mouth itched, his fangs ached, and he wanted – still wants - to devour you, but not in pieces, but all of you. Your whole, entire self.

"Are you hungry?" you break the comfortable silence, gaze still lingering on his arm, as you realize that this would usually be the time for him to eat his first meal.

"No."

"No?" Surprise drips from your voice at his answer, one of your brows lifting in disbelief.

"My hunger is satisfied for the moment. I’ll eat later."

That makes you peer up at him for a few seconds, an indecipherable expression, before returning your attention to his arm.

“Hmh, alright.”

Another few beats of silence pass, and then, suddenly, your fingers stop dancing along his tattooed skin, replaced by your hot mouth as it latches onto him.

Sukuna makes no noise at first, the muscles in his face barely moving as if he anticipated your attack, but you can feel his fingers twitch and then tighten around your sides, his strong arms visibly flexing.

A low chuckle emanates from him at your attempt to break his thick skin, your eyes momentarily flickering up to his face at the guttural sound that shakes your body.

You’ve become shameless, he notices, unrestrained craving swirling in your eyes that is usually found in his own when he’s around you.  

His tongue drags along the sharp tips of his canines, glinting at you. The image of a menacing predator, dangerous and meant to frighten and devour you, yet you find yourself melting willingly into his arms, the claws digging into you granting you security.

To him, your bites are akin to tickles, like nips that a cat gives its owner, and his first instinct is to laugh. He doesn’t, but the urge remains.

Instead, Sukuna’s face splits into a wide grin, “And what exactly are you trying to do?”

All four of his piercing eyes are pinning you in place as he stares down his nose. Sukuna isn’t sure what to focus on, so he takes his time to memorize every single feature of your face, from the curve of your cupid's bow to the soft flutter of your eyelashes casting shadows across your cherubic cheeks. 

“What do you think it looks like?” you grumble, your voice muffled by your mouth still pressed against the resistant limb, “I’m trying to bite you the way you like to bite me, Sukuna.”

He used to demand that you call him by his proper title, yet he finds that he doesn’t mind the lack of title slipping from your lips as much as he thought he would; it’s second nature to you, rolling off your tongue so effortlessly, and it tastes like nectar from the sweetest fruit in his mouth.

“You’re trying so hard, aren’t you?”

You huff, “Don’t mock me.”

“I’m not. I respect your effort. It’s amusing – but it’s also welcoming.”

There’s a raw sincerity behind his words that you weren’t prepared for, causing you to put some distance between your mouth and his arm.

Sukuna’s waiting, patient and with mild curiosity.

A wild flame of affection ignites in his chest as he watches how hard you, a mere human, try to put some damage on him, the desire to claim lurking behind every caress of your teeth.

Want swims across his normally indifferent face, something other than vain lust, nothing perverse or violent, but something that goes even deeper, more vulnerable. It takes root in his chest, threatening to burst forth and fall into your waiting hands, ready to catch it.

“Are you proud of yourself? Are you giving it your all?” Sukuna taunts, his controlled voice slightly strained as he pokes you in the face, making your nose scrunch up.

He sees how you almost flinch, all four of his eyes tracking your every move attentively, but you try to keep a nonchalant demeanor, acting unaffected, and not pulling away. You’re not scared – you’re merely sensitive to his touch, Sukuna notes.

He levels you with a smirk; as if you’re an amusing little thing, his personal jester.

“Don’t hold back,” he warns you, maroon eyes burning into you, heavy with intent. So you don’t.

Your soul enters Sukuna before your teeth do, and he can't - doesn't want to - stop it.

There’s noise, emerging from the back of his throat.

A wave of ecstasy washes over his body as you finally manage to draw blood, lapping at the small wound with your tongue, the sting sending goosebumps across his skin and briefly blurring his vision.

You hold him in the palms of your hands without realizing it, your teeth - your pitiful, useless fangs - unintentionally releasing venom that spreads through his guts, paralyzing him against your electrifying touch.

Sukuna’s immune to poison – he himself is a lethal poison - but not to your venom; for it is not filled with poison, but with something else, something he can’t quite identify, having never experienced it before.

One of his hands tangles in your hair, holding your head in place, urging you to continue on with your gentle assault.

“C’mon, try harder. You can do better than that.”

You could tear him apart for all he cares, and he’d let you. Chip away at the flesh that protects his bones and swallow his cursed energy until it merges with your own. Become one.

Sukuna wouldn’t fight back, wouldn’t protect the gaping wounds you have inflicted upon him, and to him that is the strongest sign of devotion he could present you with. And you’d understand.

“Are you even feeling anything?” you ask him as you withdraw from his now marked arm, forehead creased and lips pursed.

Removing his arms from his chest, he brings one of his hands up to cup the underside of your jaw, the gesture oddly tender. His thumb glides along the plush, pillowy flesh of your lower lip that is stained with blood – his blood – and he relishes how the single digit covers your lip completely, and how the lids over your eyes grow droopy, that particular look sending a tingle down his body.

“I’m feeling everything.”

[dontsh0vethesun]

and she’ll tease you

masterlist

emily prentiss x reader

18+: smut; teasing, office sex, boot riding, finger sucking, oral fixation kinda, dom!emily, mommy kink, degradation, praise, lowkey hand kink icl i was thinking about them and salivating from all my lips

a/n: title from the song ‘bette davis eyes’ by kim carnes - this is from a request !! wc: 1.7k

Emily seemed to have woken up on whichever side of the bed makes you walk the path of torment. She, of course, was the devilish one in this scenario, and you were merely the one she was so determined to tease. 

You’d woken up in the older woman’s bed, an occurrence not so uncommon, with the soft pad of her fingertip trailing over your arm and the light smile on her lips being the first thing to greet you. 

Her lips grazed yours with her murmur of ‘good morning’, and in your sleepy haze you returned it as best you could. And, despite the briefness of the kiss, your breath halted just as it always does. She pulled away much too soon for your liking, rising from where she lay with a smug glance at you over her shoulder. 

In spite of the way your eyes were fighting against tiredness, you couldn’t keep them away from the muscles of her bare back, the inward curve of her waist when she stretched her arms above her head and the perfect view of her naked body when she sauntered away into the bathroom. 

She’d let you stay in the duvet-covered comfort for a little bit longer, leaving you to blink yourself into as much of an alert state as you can before work. You were still savouring that last bit of comfort when you heard the water shut off mere moments before she came back out to you. 

Her flirtatious disposition she’d decided to emphasise was in full swing, sauntering to her wardrobe in her underwear, droplets of water still sitting in the contours of her back. Her eyes didn’t shy away from you when she’d pulled the covers from your body, leaning over to ghost a peck over your lips whilst luring you from the mattress. 

And the drive to work left little respite; her hand crept daringly high where it rested on your thigh, a teasing move rather risky this early in the morning. Especially on the way to work. Unbeknownst to you, however, that was her plan entirely. Emily adores you when you’re worked up - when she can tell you’re thinking of nothing but her.  

-

Her hopes for the day couldn’t have worked out more flawlessly; she was blessed with a case-free day, just paperwork and a couple of meetings to occupy her time. So she had plenty of time to fit in some playful torment. 

She watched out of the window of her office at you working at your desk, taking part in conversations here and there. She waited until you went for your mid-morning coffee to make her move, making sure to approach you with the sleeves of her shirt rolled up in the way she knows you like. 

Your eyes glazed over her forearms as soon as they came into view, and your cheeks warmed at the smirk she regarded you with. 

“Want one?” you asked her with a gesture towards your mug, instantly reaching for another at her nod. 

The quiet between you was palpable yet comfortable whilst you waited for the coffee to brew; you shuddered at the fingertips she dragged across your back, tracing lines up to your neck and along your collarbone. 

She nudged beneath your chin, guiding you to face her - so close you could feel the heat of her breath. 

“You working hard?” she smiled, eyeing your lips and the way your neck twitched with your swallow. 

“Mhm,” you nodded, watching the way her tongue swiped along her bottom lip with a movement so slow and deliberate it made your heartbeat quicken. 

“Always a good girl for me,” she breathed, almost daring to let her lips brush against yours yet pulling away before letting you give in. With that, she left, coffee in hand and a wink to you over her shoulder with the swaying of her hips fogging your mind. 

-

She’s playfully scolded you before for picking up your personal phone when you’re meant to be working, but when you saw the screen light up with her name, you swiped it open. 

‘I miss you in here’, she’d typed.  

Before you’d finished a reply, another message came through, a photo of her shirt partially unbuttoned; the black lace of her bra poked into view, and her necklace sat against the line of her collarbone, dipping into the space between her breasts. You glanced at her office door despite knowing there’d be nothing to see, you just hoped nobody caught sight of your antsy state, fidgeting in your chair. 

Emily knows the effect she has on you - how her hands so often capture your attention. She catches you following their movements when she talks, the way her knuckles strain with her grip on the steering wheel. The next photo that popped up confirmed your suspicions of her hellish behaviour, the teasing and flirting, the sly touches at any moment she was near. 

A photo of her hand, fingers splayed on her thigh. The svelte digits served as a reminder of her constant hold on you, the ease with which she can have you yearning for her attention in one calculated decision. You could only think of her touch, the one she’d graced you with only last night. 

You stood from your chair with a huff, feeling pathetically desperate for the attention of your lover; your back felt hot, your stomach twinged with need, and the ache between your thighs only grew at the idea of her. 

You didn’t bother to knock and just let yourself into her office with the door clicking shut behind you and an instant pout mirroring her smirk. 

“Can I help you?” she spoke, leaning back in her chair behind her desk, legs spread with confidence. She oozes power and she knows it, it drips like honey from her skin. 

“You’re doing this on purpose,” you frowned, still feeling hot beneath the collar of your shirt despite your frustration with the woman. 

“Doing what?”

“This,” you gestured towards her seated form and the cocky look on her face. “The teasing, the messages - all day.”

“Aw, has it made you desperate?” she mocked, beckoning you towards her with a crook of her finger. She used the same hand to grab your hip, keeping you firmly in your place with a bashful heat in your cheeks as she peered up at you. “Are you needy, baby, hm? Have you been getting worked up just thinking about your mommy?” 

You whimpered at the way she cupped your clothed cunt, she felt the radiating heat and the subtle twitching of your hips and laughed beneath her breath. 

“On your knees, sweetheart.”

You hardly ever consider going against her command, and right now, with the pulsing ache in your core, you obey it right away. You didn’t mind so much the pathetic way you knelt at her feet when you were sinking into a haze of submission. A deep-rooted and visceral desire and need to relieve the buzzing feeling flowing through you. 

“Tell me what you want,” Emily muttered with her voice deep and quiet. 

“I want you.”

“Tell me like you mean it, baby. Beg for me, or I’ll leave you whining like the little mess you are.” 

“Please, mommy,” you murmured. “Please, I need you. I need you so much; it’s all I can think about.”

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” she practically cooed, nudging your legs apart before pushing the toe of her black leather boot against you. “C’mon, be a good little slut and get yourself off.” 

With a thick swallow and a glance towards her office door, you pushed yourself down onto her; the idea that someone could interrupt made you flush in a pleasurable apprehension. The thrill of it all spurred you on. 

The seam of your jeans hit against your wanting clit with each thrust of your hips against her boot, and you choked back a moan at the feeling. The way your girlfriend watched you intently made you eager to please, urging yourself to chase after the high you desperately needed. 

“You’ve gotta keep quiet, sweet girl,” she uttered, poking at your lips with her fingers before pushing them past. You latched around the digits that hooked over your teeth, gently biting into them to keep yourself quiet, sucking them into your mouth with pleasure. Emily just sat back and watched, filling your mouth while you humped the boot she sporadically pressed hard against you. 

Your cunt clenched around nothing, and you could feel how soaked you were with each stimulating push of your clit. Your hands held onto her thighs for a semblance of balance on your shaking knees, and you felt the heat of your orgasm creep higher and higher. 

“God, you’re such a needy thing,” she mused. “And when anyone could walk in,” she tutted. “Do you want them to see how desperate you get for your mommy, hm? How much of a little whore you really are?”

You shook your head with an incoherent mumble around her fingers, but truly, in this moment, you couldn’t care much less. 

“I wouldn’t dare to let them see,” she added, stroking her thumb softly over your cheek. “Nobody gets to see you like this apart from me - I love watching you fall apart too much to share it.” 

With each word breathed and each snap of your hips you teetered on the edge of release, staring up at her with eyes pleading a silent question. And, when she nodded with a glimpse of a smile, you let your actions grow hurried in a quick capture of your orgasm. Her eyes were dark and blown, lips parted as she watched you. 

It took little more for you to cum, biting into her skin with a roughness she didn’t mind and a moan at the back of your throat that she muffled. Whilst your heart was still pounding and your cunt still reeling from your high, she pulled your lips to hers with fervour, leaning down to catch each heavy breath you let out. 

“I’m gonna have so much fun with you when we get home,” she rasped against your jaw, cupping the back of your neck in her palm. 

“How am I meant to focus on my work now?” 

“Mm, I dunno,” she smirked, shrugging as she leaned back in her chair, and you stood up shakily. “Think about how good the reward’ll be if you keep on being so well-behaved.” 

“Yes, Chief,” you teased, smiling at the blush she always sports at the title. “I’ll see you later.”

[volturissideslut]

shy reader holds remus' hand for the first time in public

𝕽𝖊𝖒𝖚𝖘 𝕷𝖚𝖕𝖎𝖓

I took this prompt and i ran with it, enjoyyy!!!

Though you and Remus had been together for a while now - not long having passed that awkward and clunky talking stage - you still hadn't really been physically affectionate with one another. No sex, no kisses, no cuddles, and not even daring to engage in premarital hand holding.

It's not that you didn't want to. You did. You really really did. But every time you wanted to you were left unsure if it was okay to do that. Seeds of self doubt planted themselves in your mind and the longer you let them fester the more they weeded your thoughts. It honestly got to a tiring point, where if the thought of being affectionate with him made your hands clammy and your mind race, heat creeping its way up your neck. And obviously you didn't want him to feel like he had to hold your clammy sweaty hands, it's just... icky.

To put it simply, you had built it all up in your head and it desperately needed to be pulled down from that pedestal.

So now here you were, in the library with Remus, your lovely boyfriend, wondering if it would be okay to hold his hand. He was slouched over (in a posture that was definitely not good for his spinal health in the future) with one hand holding the hard back on the book, and the other lazily resting on the table. Resting mere millimetres from your own hand.

Unconsciously, your hand twitched, like when your body is so filled with emotion and just has to move. Like when you're angry and your jaw and fists clench. Like when you're excited and your hands shake and move and you talk. Like when you're anxious and your leg bounces. Like when you really want to be touching your boyfriend but don't know how to go about it, and your hand twitches.

One slight problem, your hand was so so close to his already that he thought you had tapped him and had put down his book to give you his full attention. And with that adorable small smile of his on his face too.

"You okay, Dove?"

... I mean, it's now or never right?

"Yeah - uhm - Rem, can I please hold your hand?" Why does your throat feel so dry? You had just had a nice cup of tea with him, and now its like you're parched all over again.

And while he notices your rising anxiety and shyness, he pays no mind to it for now. Instead his smile grows wide and smug, eyebrows raised in surprise. But his expression quickly returns to its normal state and his voice is smooth as he speaks, though it doesn't to much to hide his own light blush.

"Of course you can, Dovey"

Like the gentleman he is, he doesn't make too much of a show of it, already knowing the inner turmoil in your mind right now. Instead, he laces his fingers with yours and gives one firm reassuring squeeze and picks up his book. He also gives another squeeze when he feels you tense up and watch someone walk past your little corner of the library, a proud smile hidden behind his book as he physically feels your body relax because of his touch.

But now you know in your head that its okay. Hand holding officially being removed from the pedestal. And he can't even tell your hands are clammy, because his are too.

[stargirlrchive]

TOLERATE IT

older!ghost x reader — i realized after i finished, i did not mention simon’s name once, but this was written w him in mind lmaooo

cw: angst, no comfort, break up? ish, friends w benefits and complicated feelings, simon self-sabotaging, im in such an angsty mood! edit: this has been sitting in my drafts for over a month and i don’t know if i like it

your nails dug into your palms as your eyes filled with tears. you were drowning, he was drowning you. you had known it for a long time now. this, whatever it was, wasn’t working. not anymore.

not when you had bled yourself dry, spread yourself too thin for him, just to receive nothing in return. worst of all is he had told you so from the very beginning. but some naive, stupid, part of you thought that would change. that he’d change for you.

stupid, stupid, stupid.

“what did you except?”

his voice was ice cold, indifferent and… bored. as if you pouring your heart out to him mere seconds ago meant nothing.

you realized then that you had been terribly wrong. mistaken the way he held you, and kissed you, as something more. “i just figured-”

his eyes blazed with frustration, “figured what, hm? that i’d eventually soften up? grow to love you?”

yes.

“i don’t know. would that be so difficult?”

“yes.”

your face twitched, unable to mask how deeply that hurt. your throat tightened with regret. regret of ever tangling yourself with him, regret with voicing your feelings.

“you knew what i wanted from this arrangement. you had agreed. we were on the same page.”

the regret and melancholy that had ebbed and festered in your heart turned to anger. blinding, burning rage.

“i had told you, made it so very clear that nothing long term would come from this. i can’t give you that.”

that rage was threatening to consume you.

your voice shook with anger, but the look on his face took the crack in your voice as one of sadness, weakness, “you won’t give me that. it’s not that you can’t.”

he said nothing, because you both knew it was true. “look, kid-”

“don’t-” your voice rasped, “don’t call me that.”

his fingers clenched in frustration, breathing through his nose as he tried to collect himself. he had never heard your voice grow that cold. not towards him and it made his bones ache.

“it’s nothing personal. i’m just not want you’re lookin’ for. not for something constant, and if things were different, if i was a different person then maybe. but im not.”

your eyes burned, a few stray tears falling but you were quick to wipe them away. yes, you had come to an agreement prior to this. but things had changed, the way he looked at you, and held you.

the whispered words in between your tangled limbs had proven that. he lingering touches and soft eyes.

he must’ve been one hell of a liar if he didn’t mean any of that.

stupid, stupid, stupid.

“i don’t believe you.”

you sniffed softly, looking at him and you were sure the devastation was clear in your eyes. “because if everything that passed between us, if you were able to fake that. you’re a monster.”

“you knew what this was when we started.”

you missed the way his fingers dug into the armrest of the couch. shaking your head as you stood up. “get out.”

he felt the chill of your words wash over him, and the part inside him that yearned for you, desperately begged him to speak up. to tell you that this was all some big misunderstanding.

stupid, stupid, stupid.

what he was doing was stupid. but it was for the best.

you deserved better, and he’d never be able to give that to you.

yes you would.

he forced the voice back, swallowing roughly before standing up. grabbing his things as he watched you try not to fall apart before him.

the words of ‘i’m sorry,’ heavy on his tongue, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it.

his footsteps heavy as he left your apartment. his heart aching the further he walked away and it comforted him a bit to know you’d never forgive him again.

there would be no hope, no one to hurt or disappoint and he could live with that. knowing that he let you go before you could begin to hate him.

[cactuscoolerr]

⋆｡˚. pinky promised kisses - itoshi rin

• notes: this honestly has nothing to do with pinkie promised kisses.. i just love mitski a lot ٩(^ᴗ^)۶

• warnings: mentions of fighting and injuries, other than that, none! fluff content!

• not proofread!! sorry.. ( ･ᴗ･̥̥̥ )

immediately after reaching the top of the stairs, you made a beeline to your boyfriends room. blinded by annoyance, you were unintentionally stomping, slamming his door open and standing beside where he sat at his desk with an annoyed huff and messy hair.

"what the hell is wrong with you?"

rin only sighed, glancing at you before looking back at his computer screen. "what do you mean?" his tone showed his clear annoyance of this situation. "what is it now?"

he was just as confused as you were upset. he seriously couldn't understand why you were so pissed off right now since he was just sitting there, minding his own business. he didn't even know you had come over to his house. that only meant that his mom invited you over. 'of course..' rin rolled his eyes at the thought. you were her favorite after all. she considered you her daughter.

still pissed off, you grabbed onto rin's chin and forced him to look your way, only to press your finger into the big bruise that had formed on his cheek. when he winced, your gaze softened slightly before gently running your thumb across the now scabbed gash on his cheekbone, then the cut on his lower lip. "didn't i tell you not to pick useless fights with that teammate of yours..?"

though your touch was gentle, your words were harsh alongside the glare you burned through his face.

a heavy sigh fell passed rin's lips, leaning back in his chair before turning his head to pin his focus back on the screen of his dimmed laptop.

"it wasn't useless.." he muttered, answering rather quickly.

you studied his face as he fell back into his once calm state, his face becoming more blank and stoic like. it made it nearly impossibly to read his mood. he definitely wasn't calm with his eyebrow twitching at the mere presence of you still next to him.

"oh yeah?" you scoffed. "it wasn't useless?" your gaze remained on your boyfriend, even if it was the side of his face.

rin nodded slowly, not moving his eyes from the screen in front of him. "he was pissing me off.. so I did something about it. you got a problem with that?"

"how in any way is that a valid reason?" a hint of confusion was new to your tone, your eyebrows pinched together as you tried to think about his thought process. "you could've gotten even more hurt than you already are, stupid"

finally rin's eyes left the screen, but only to turn to you with a cold look on his face for a few seconds before looking back towards the screen. "..it was worth it" and if he cared just a bit more, he would've shrugged. his only goal was to justify his actions, feeling that it was completely valid on his end.

"and was it worth losing the fight?" your arms were now crossed, at any moment your foot would begin to tap with how frustrating he was being.

his glare returned towards you yet again, replying in a sharp tone. "i didn't lose.."

"i literally saw shidou.. he didn't exactly look as beat up as you do" your retaliation with paired with a mean glare, just wanting him to stop being so stubborn, admit that he was wrong and promise not to fight anymore.

with a shrug, rin replied. "..i still didn't lose" he insisted, even as your glare near penetrated his soul and being. why would he admit he was wrong? even as you huffed and glared, he wouldn't satisfy you.

"oh yeah? how did you win then?"

"he stopped fighting and ran off.." rin went ahead and lied straight through his teeth so that you'd be convinced. in reality, even he felt like he had lost the fight. it was easy to tell that he lied though. his expression and words didn't seem to match at all.

your eyebrows raised, a smile threatening to fall to your lips at how ridiculous he was being. "uh huh.. you're such a loser.."

at this point, rin was fed up with your attitude as a sigh fell passed his lips. he just stayed quiet as a response since he didn't know how to answer to your words. it also seemed to you that he was giving up on trying to convince you of his so called "victory" now.

"so was it worth it?" you questioned, taking his silence as a one up on him. "your black eye, busted lip and nose? the cut on your cheek?"

he looked at you again after letting his gaze fall towards the floor. at this point, he was annoyed by your questioning. rin thought about your question for a few seconds before speaking up again. "..yes.."

at his serious tone, you snorted out a laugh. "you cant even make a fist because your knuckles are so fucked up.."

"and would you win if you got in a fight like that?" rin slight raised his voice, now completely annoyed with you mocking him. "I'd love to see you fight and still walk away with your perfect face still in tact like that"

you only shrugged, not really caring about his dumb hypothetical question. its not like you were stupid like him and got into fights over the dumbest shit. "you literally lost this fight and got your ass beat.. I don't wanna hear any of this from you, honestly"

rin stayed quiet yet again for a few seconds before sighing with a roll of his eyes. "fine.. I lost. you happy now, brat?" he finally admits after your constant pushing, though there was still a bit of annoyance towards your attitude.

"exactly," you huffed and pushed lightly on the bruise on his cheek. "you don't have to act tough in front of me.. I already know how much of a tough guy you are" your gentle cooing made rin frown, even more so when you pinched at the fat on his cheek that held the bruise that still very much hurt him.

"you're so annoying"

a soft giggle fell from your lips at his words, finding that there was no real anger in his tone. even if he held a deadpanned expression and let out a tired sigh along with it, you still looked at him with a certain gentleness that had only been reserved for him. "I just worry about you.."

this time, a sigh sounded from you as you crouched down to be level with his knees, taking one of his hands from on top of his desk to study his knuckles. of course they were busted and bruised. "you scare me when you fight, you know.." another sigh. "I hate knowing that you're hurt, stupid"

rin just sat there as you made a fuss over his injuries that he didn't think were all that serious. to him, you were being dramatic, but he seemed almost resigned to your actions at this point.

"you don't have to worry about me.." rin spoke up again to try and comfort you at least a little bit. "I can take care of myself.."

you sent glare upwards towards him, bringing his knuckles to your lips. to gently kiss his sore skin. "I'll always worry about you whether you like it or not" rin listened to you sigh.

it was hard for rin to understand why you were so concerned about him. he wondered about it as he stayed quiet, watching as you pressed a delicate kiss over each of his knuckles. it had only been a few months that you and rin had been dating, so there was no possible way that you could've cared that much about him.

"..why do you worry so much about me?"

"you know why.." your tone was nothing short of annoyed as you looked up at him. "we've been friends forever, you know.. the only thing new about our relationship is the romance aspect.. its not like we were strangers before dating"

your point was clear to rin but he still just stared down at you with a calm yet blank expression on his face. "what if.." rin paused slightly before sighing and continuing "and what if.. I said that we should stop dating.." it was a simple what if question that rin wanted to know your response to. nothing more and nothing less.

"do you want to?" you asked calmly, though your mind was anything but calm. internally, you were panicking and wondering if that was what he really wanted to do.

his long pause made you think that he was contemplating it before he shook his head no. "I don't.." it seemed as though he didn't want to hesitate anymore. "I want us to keep dating" he says, glancing down at you to study your reaction, though you hardly gave him one.

"good" you sighed softly and kissed his knuckles again to hide your relieved expression. "why'd you bring that up then, idiot" rin felt a sharp pain as you pressed on his bruises with an annoyed glare to show that he pissed you off.

rin scowled as you messed with his injuries again, feeling annoyed at the pain you were putting him through. "you were getting frantic and worried about my injuries.. so I just wanted to check"

it was true that that was the reason for bringing it up. a part of him was afraid that the reason for your outbursts to his injuries was because you couldn't handle the idea of him constantly being hurt in the fights he got into. he was afraid that you were growing tired of this situation and him altogether, but that wasn't the case. you just loved your boyfriend, which rin found slightly hard to wrap his head around.

"that doesn't even make sense.." you muttered, your warm breath fanning across rin's already warm skin.

"it doesn't, does it..?" rin sighed softly, keeping a gentle gaze on you continuing to mess with his bruises. he was really starting to feel the stinging in his hand, even from the soft feeling of your plump lips. "..but, please don't do that anymore.."

"hm..?" through your pretty eyelashes, you looked up at rin with slightly tired eyes. still, you peppered the most gentle kisses you could muster across his knuckles.

rin couldn't help but notice how pretty your eyes looked, your gorgeous eyelashes as you gazed up at him through them. he felt heat rising up to his cheeks as he watched you continue to kiss his bruised skin, even if it was continuing to hurt him. "please.. I'm starting to feel it even more now.."

something close to a whimper fell passed your boyfriends lips, making your heart skip a beat, though you tried to continue your act of nonchalancy with a huff and a slight roll of your eyes before continuing to kiss against him.

"kissing makes it better, crybaby"

he just sighed, letting you do as you pleased, though to him it seemed as though you didn't care that he was feeling a bit more pain than he was previously feeling. "even you know that kissing doesn't actually help.." rin still looked down at you, though he was a little more annoyed now.

"it does.." you argued with a huff. "it helped when we were kids.. remember when we were six and I fell? you kissed me on my lips - even though the injury was on my knee.." you muttered, making rin's face warm in embarrassment, yours doing the same. "- and i immediately felt better after the kiss.."

that was something rin did remember. by that point, rin already had a huge crush on you and he wanted to test out something he had seen on the 'adult' movies- that were really just cheesy romance movies - that his parents would watch. and that was kissing, even though he wasn't entirely sure on how to do it at the time. "fine.." rin caved with a small huff, still looking down at you.

"..you can continue doing it"

a few more minutes of kisses to his skin passed, halfway through making rin turn towards you and give you his other hand so you could reciprocate your actions to his neglected hand. the more your soft lips touched his knuckles, the more yours and his blushes grew. it was beginning to grow harder and harder to ignore. and finally, you pulled away to look up at him, once again through your long eyelashes.

rin finally noticed the blushing on your face. to rin, you had looked even prettier than rin had ever seen you, making him exhale shakily and his hand twitch slightly from where you still held it gently in your own warm hand.

"better..?" your voice was slightly shaky and hesitant. rin gulped as he nodded slightly, a small smile threatening to take over his face as his lips twitched, growing more nervous with how you were looking up at him. "a bit.." he breathed out, trying to force himself to sound more calm than he felt, trying to relax with your lingering kisses.

[whalesforhands]

your thoughts all in mine

commissioned by anonymous. please thank them, they were very kind and patient with me despite it being my first time doing comms here

gojo satoru x reader x geto suguru

warnings: 18+ smut, dark content; yandere tendencies, somewhat creepy stsg x reader, allusions to depression, can be considered dubious consent at one part

“You can’t keep me like this forever, y’know?” The seals upon his arm threaten to tear, black calligraphy upon inscribed paper viciously glowing as you tug at the door, the jangling of locks and sparks of cursed energy on your fingertips.

“You left me no choice,” Your focused hand on the door and your eyes concentrated on the cursed locks, chants mumbled under your shortened breaths as you desperately try to break the spell, only feeling more intricate and mind-numbing barriers pushing back against you. “Satoru.”

You can hear him hum, so frustratingly nonchalant despite the fact that you had managed to bind his physical body and his technique back, prevented him from using any of his tricks against you as he sat propped up against the headboard of the bed.

There was only so much time— Only mere seconds you could spare before Gojo Satoru breaks those seals you had so crudely made, the very charms that you had poured every ounce of your cursed energy into for weeks on end. You feel your very hands tremble as they continue to mess with the locks.

It was hard enough to obtain said paper— And even harder to trap the unbeatable Gojo Satoru.

“You’re being so good today,” He’s purring into your ear, your legs around his waist as he adjusts just that little bit more to angle himself better, hissing at the way your nails dragged down his back before stuffing himself deep inside to hit that one spot inside of you, the slapping of his skin against yours far too lewd. “Something making you—“ His thrusts start to slow, choosing to make long, languid strokes as you tremble. “Mmf… happy?”

You choose not to reply, your teary eyes blinking up at him as he grips your chin, squishing your cheeks inbetween his fingers as he coos down at you, pressing a kiss to your wet lips as you only take his excitement into you, swirling your tongue with his in efforts to return his love as your ankles lock around his hips.

He makes the mistake of pulling away just for that one moment to let you breathe, feeling your walls clamp down hard in contempt, perhaps your way of retaliation as you feel his thrusts start to stutter, the smack of his skin against yours coming to a halt, “Fuck…!” Throbs of his cock deep inside of you making your head spin and your toes curl when your eyes start to glaze over with a blur of white and blue.

It’s these moments where you’re disengaged from reality that you start to think, start to really forget how much of a claim they lay upon your body as you twitch and shudder at the familiar cock stuffed too deep inside of you, a weak hand mindlessly reaching down to press against the slight bulge distending your skin.

You’re theirs.

“Ooh, r-really felt your love there, sweetheart.” You feel him give another experimental thrust to tease, barely able to pull himself out of your tight orifice, a whimper dragged out of him to join your chorus of moans as your mouth feels hot, feels like his spit had rewired the thoughts inside of your head to only occupy himhimhimhim—

“Sa— Toru…!” Your voice is teary, raw, and begging, your shaky nails digging into his skin and clawing; drawing blood and his moans out of him as your mind struggles to remember— To fight back.

“Aha, you’re— Hah… So cute…” He grunts when you pull him closer, holding him still inside of you, your kiss missing his lips as you land them against his neck, “Mmm… Fuck that feels so good…” He can feel you licking up his throat, his eyes closed as your mind recalls the shape of the rest of the scripture, the final strokes of the talisman clawed into his back as your body starts to tire, your grip on reality slowly unraveling and turning your mind into actual mush—

“Keep making that face—“ You hear muted breaths as he exhales, his hands gripping the underside of your knees and pushing your legs back. “Shit, haa— I love you so much…” You can see the euphoric, almost crazed look in his eyes through your bleary gaze, the way they begged— Pleaded the unsaid that churns the smallest semblance of doubt within you.

“You won’t leave me— Us, right? Nghhh— You can’t, okay?” He’s barely able to remember how to swallow as he starts to get lost, starts to babble your praises, starts to tongue-kiss you a little too sloppily. “I love— You…” You just take him so perfectly, you’re so lovely, you’re so perfect— And he thinks you’ll never be able to get it, never be able to fathom how much they love you.

You almost feel bad. Almost. Your own eyes closing as you’re taken into another mind-numbing kiss, his tongue laving into your mouth and your moans swallowed by him as you cum again, his hand having ended up on your swollen nub, rubbing expertly on the flesh as you twitch and stammer and come undone to sate both of your lusts… All as your cursed energy started to vibrate against your very ribs in stout activation.

“H-honey— I’m close,” You can feel his drool start to cling against your own lips as you let out a whimper, his grip on you tightening ever so slightly at your display of helpessless, his thrusts are getting far too much, every drag of the veins against your oversensitive cunt already making you see stars as your thighs start to shake. “You’re so tight— So good…!”

It was your only chance, his only vulnerable moment where he wouldn’t be on guard— When he’s buried deep inside your cunt and too delirious to think about anything other than emptying his balls inside of you. “Mnghh…! Cumming…!” And it’s this moment that is entirely yours, the gush of his seed inside of you, the feel of his open-mouthed kisses onto the skin of your shoulder as you feel the secondary spurts of his semen against your womb, “Take it- Take it all inside of you… Haah…” You feel softer thrusts, his hips slowly coaxing out every last drop of his semen out as his eyelids flutter close, sticky sweat becoming apparent and dripping onto your skin when his body goes lax on top of you.

He’s passed out.

And you can confirm it as a weak, unsteady hand tucks back locks of his damp white, pushing them out of his face to reveal a pretty face that slept without a care in the world.

“Satoru…?” You take the moment to pat against the softness of his cheeks, your breaths labored from exhaustion and your eyes begging to close as you see the steady rise and fall of his naked chest, his slowed heartbeat and his quiet snores. You can feel him soften inside of you, his body completely relaxed and his head resting upon your breasts in innocence that didn’t suit him— Yet, you still think that he— Your Satoru, was cute.

“I’m sorry, Satoru.” It’s your weakness, a vile core part of you that’s unable to die; able to sympathize and care for him despite everything. “But I have to do this…”

If Gojo Satoru were to be honest— He already knew what you were planning, Six Eyes seeing right through the talisman papers you had tried to hide inbetween the shampoo refills. But he just didn’t expect it so soon— And to put it quite crudely, did not expect you to do that whilst he had fucked both you and himself stupid.

And to be even more honest— He’s more disappointed in the fact that you’re still able to stand just fine after those sessions of keeping you trapped with him in bed.

“Honey~” He calls for you with a lilt in his voice, the words dripping off of his tongue in much too sweet of a manner. “Let’s say you do escape,” He blows a strand of stray hair out of his face, eyes choosing to admire the way his shirt was practically swallowing your frame whole, a smile growing on his lips when he sees your thighs shake just that little bit just from standing, the panties you wore still just that little bit damp from where his spend was leaking out.

And it causes his grin to widen all the more. It causes his cock to stir underneath the blankets, causes his blood to rush throughout his body and his desire for you to grow.

“Ya’know Suguru’s out there righttttttt?” He drawls out his words in pride-steeped confidence, as if he was surprised that you’re still trying. It was futile, he believes. Stupid for you to even try, when both you and he knew what was going to happen in the end.

“I… Know, Satoru.” But he can feel the utter desperation in your tone, the way your voice teeters on a hopeless cause. Like you were defeated, like you had no plan past this stage.

You know he’s trying to get under your skin, trying to make you break before you even get past the first phase of your escape… But in his eyes, you just looked so pitiful even trying.

“If you let me go, I’ll open it for you.” His head tilts to the side in mock innocence, shiny blue eyes glowing with mirth as he practically chirps his words.

You don’t want to give up, you don’t. Yet there’s this pull in your chest that inclines you to believe him, as exasperating, as unbelievable as it sounds. Your cursed energy was non-existent, burnt out from overuse at this point. You feel at a loss for breath, at some sort of despair starting to build tears in your eyes as your lips start to tremble and your knees want to buckle.

Maybe it was impossible. Maybe you should’ve given up sooner, with your tail tucked inbetween your legs in shame and crawled back into his awaiting arms when you still had the chance.

You don’t know what came over you, what sick feeling of clinging affection you had— Finding yourself settling against a bounded Gojo Satoru’s chest, making yourself comfortable on his lap as you… Sought him for comfort. You know he feels warm, feels like you belong right here, where you curled up against his larger frame that oozed protectiveness and twisted love.

“Beautiful… You’re so beautiful.” You can feel him start to press kisses onto your skin, down the length of your arm to each of your fingertips, from the column of your neck to the swell of your breasts— It felt… Right. You hear sweet nothings in your ear and his fingers threading through your hair, his cooing praises of your behaviour making your chest run all the more quick.

“Since you’re so cute… Why don’t I give you a chance, hm?” You feel his lazy hand cup your chin to make you meet glinting azure. “Let’s see if you really do want to go.”

——

You’re out. The familiar floorboards, the lights— The living room. He just— Let you go. You’re here. Now. Right before the front door that rings open, signalling the arrival of someone back home.

“This is a nice surprise.” Your blood nearly freezes where you stood when you hear that honeyed voice, the smooth tone crawling up your spine and plunging into the depths of fear as your eyes meet his.

Geto Suguru.

“Satoru must’ve let you out today,” He brushes your hair back, the scent of your sweat mixed with the telltale smell of sex weighing heavy on his nose, his eyes catching sight of the far too noticeable hickeys on your skin. “It was hard, wasn’t it? I always tell him he needs to be a little gentler.” Suguru is gentle, so soft when he leans down to kiss your sweaty forehead. His kiss feels like velvet, a soothe to your very heart as you swallow.

“Y-Yeah.” Your eyes dart away, away from that imperceptible, tender expression of his in favour of the ground, the genkan just ahead of you. “It was…” Your mouth feels dry, your throat scratchy as you try to disassociate yourself from this swallowing feeling in your chest. “Tiring.”

He’s right in front of the door.

“I thought that was the case.” He reaches for your hand, so lovingly intertwining your fingers together with his, bringing it up to his face for a chaste kiss— His suave nature was definitely something else. The reusable bag of his rustles as he shifts it slightly. “I bought you both some snacks.” You feel him squeeze your hand too reassuringly as he walks you deeper into this shared home. “I bought your favourite, and got that seasonal chestnut pudding Satoru ate before you got a bite last time.”

Furthering you from escape.

You’re gently guided down the halls and into the kitchen, as he settles the bag down onto the kitchen counter, a thought occurring to him suddenly when he turns around to meet your eyes.

“I’ll help you both clean up later. I know he’s probably passed out in bliss back there.” You can hear the smile in Suguru’s voice, the trill of affection in his words as he makes sure your hand stayed tangled in his.

“Oh, but would you rather take a bath now?”

He doesn’t want to let go.

“You look beautiful no matter what,” He clicks his tongue as he observes the bites littering your neck. “But I have to say that he did quite the number on you, darling.” A calloused hand gingerly traces the love bites, trailing down to your shoulder as you… Simply accept his touch. It washes over you in waves, feelings of acceptance, of uncertainty, of a swallowing doubt in your stomach that refuses to settle.

It felt like you were going to throw up.

He kisses your cheek, sneaking just the smallest peck to the corner of your lips as your eyes scrunch close at the show of affection, your arm limply at your side as the hand he holds returns a squeeze of his palm. It should feel wrong, it should feel disgusting. You’re being kept here against your will, being locked into a room that you can’t even get out of without explicit permission, if you give up now you’re basically signing away any privilege of freedom—

“(name)?” Your eyes meekly, shyly go up to meet his. You realize he’s still smiling. “So what would you like first? A meal? A bath?” His large hand rests upon your thinly clothed waist as his breath croons over your ear, voice dropped into a seductive whisper as he kisses the fragile skin.

“Or would you rather have me?”

Oh. Even you can’t help the shame that overtakes your face at this situation— It’s just embarrassing. You’re not going to lie to yourself… Your thighs are far too sore, your cursed energy weened away with the physical toll of Satoru’s overwhelming affection. Your dry lips part to try to say something, to try to form a coherent answer as you stumble and trip over your words; that was until your face is pushed against the soft fabric of his sweater, muffling any of your attempts as his chuckle sends vibrations that reach your pounding heart.

You can almost imagine it, you know? Suguru slowly stripping you of the oversized shirt that you donned, his hands reaching down to grope your ass as he props you up against the kitchen counter, getting onto his knees as your shy hands settle on noir locks, his hands spreading your thighs apart, pulling your wet panties to the side only to reveal the milky white that was already dripping out of your recently-fucked pussy.

“What a sweet surprise.” He’d trace a finger up your twitching excitement, licking his lips in anticipation as his eyes met yours despite the way you tried to hide your face away. “I’ll make sure to enjoy this meal thoroughly~”

Before he would let his tongue sink into your dripping heat, your choked squeal and your fingers grabbing his head—

“I was just kidding.” The flutter of his eyes open, to reveal amused purple that drank in the sight of your disheveled, almost bare form in his arms. He can hear how your breathing pattern picked up speed, how your eyes are shifty with the shame that was starting to dot your clouded gaze. “So, what would it be?”

You see yourself in the reflection of his eyes, your weary, tired frame in those rich amaranth. You see yourself; and you don’t know what to feel. Was there any solidity to your plan in the first place? Why? Why did you want to leave? They’ve been nothing but sweet— Caring.

When did you start to have such fantasies? When did you like being with them so often? When? When? Whenwhenwhenwhenwhen—

That was the moment that it occurred to you. Like having a bucket of iced water dumped over your form, realization cutting deep— Past your skin and into the depths of your flesh.

You don’t want to leave. Not anymore.

“A… bath, please.”

Notes:

There’s the whining of a door, a shirtless Gojo Satoru stretching his arms out as he gives his body the well needed relief of stiffness, his boxers hastily tugged on and the scratches that marred his muscles proudly paraded around.

“Didya buy my ice cream, Suguru? I’m dyin’ for something sweet!” And he’s clinging onto the both of you, squishing your smaller body inbetween the both of them as he chooses to reach for the bag from the position.

“Don’t eat it all this time, Satoru.” A head of noir pulls you even closer, accidentally stuffing your face into his pecs as he tries to talk sense into the sweets thief. “And make it quick.”

“Our darling needs a bath.”

[cordyce]

"i don’t like the way they keep staring at you." w/ peeta 'if it weren't for the baby' mellark? :3

truthfully, your hands are beginning to grow a little shaky from doing this for so long. the minor tremble is smudging your paint strokes, causing a few swipes to stray from the imaginary lines you have mapped out in your head. but no one can fault you for that; not rightfully. you're not the skilled painter here.

and as if on cue the man who's art you adore so much is sliding up next to you. painfully close–abnormally close, more like. you are not a stranger to his affection but something about how a calloused hand finds the divot in the small of your back so swiftly has you tipping your head to address him. in such a public venue, no less.

"yes?" you adhere as you turn to peeta with a smile. but a smile is not what you're greeted with in return. no, this upturn of lips is a little too slanted for that, a little too suave.

"nothing, just came to admire the expert at work." it's all he says, all he gives, and you know it cannot be all there is because he has that glint in his eye he only gets when he is being smarmy.

"right, well, we both know i'm not the expert here, so," you blow through a chuckle as you drop your paintbrush into a murky cup of water. "what is it you really came over here for, mr. mellark?"

you turn to face him properly and expect this to be where he drops his hands, looses his hold on you. but he does exactly the opposite. instead of feigning, his fingers simply shift–down to your belt loops. there's a single tug; harsh and surging enough you can now feel the heat of his thighs radiating against yours.

"i don't like the way they keep staring at you." and it's jolting; how he says it with such a sickeningly sweet tongue and cherry pressed lips, as if his eyes aren't glinting like the blades of daggers in moonlight.

you lick your lips, force a laugh as you pat at his chest to stave off the turn of your stomach. "please, they're probably just admiring my expert painting skills. this is a dog and pony show, you know."

it's meant to be a jab, a taunt. throwing peeta's own words back in his face to throw him off and maybe turn his grin a little more genuine and a little less guileful. yet all it does is seem to cause his lips to twitch ever deeper, carve their way up to the dimple in his cheek.

"i know what they're admiring, and it isn't your canvas."

he side steps you, picks your brush back up and in one swift motion tosses it behind him in such a way it looks like a mere accidental dropping. an accident, that seems to have splattered the red stain directly on that of a capital patron who is positioned a little closer than you thought they were allowed to be to the.. entertainment.

eyes slightly widened, there is no denying the skip of your heart now as peeta's lip brush against the shell of your ear. "you belong in a gallery all of my own. a stunning, private collection," he whispers.

then with no more than an innocent kiss to your temple and a squeeze to your hip, he's gone. rushing to retrieve your brush and usher out apologies through his golden boy personage, his charm winning as it always does in favor of the capitol. and you are left dazed, wanting nothing more than to shrink into your skin. not because of the peering and prying eyes of the entire nation; but because of the yearning and burning eyes of your lover.

[roadkillxd]

HALLOWEEN SPECIAL: gun metal ghost.

Thanks to the anons that suggested the featured kinks!

Soap x M!Reader x Ghost ↪ 1892 words — 18+ / SMUT.

Content tags — cis male dominant Soap, cis male dominant Ghost, cis male submissive reader, heavy cnc roleplay, gunplay, implied somnophilia, threat of murder, referenced necro (just a comment Soap makes), virginity kink, breeding kink, sweat/scent kink, impact play, dirty talk, degradation/humiliation, praise, biting, begging, body worship, crying, deepthroating, breath play, oral sex, analingus, fingering, anal sex, penetrative sex, unsafe sex, and mentioned aftercare.

You jolt awake at the feeling of cold metal trailing down the ridges of your bare spine. You feel an unpleasant emptiness, and your cock is hard and dripping where it’s trapped between your stomach and the bed sheets, surely tacky and wet with pre and sweat. Before you can truly get your bearings, a hand grips your hair and another covers your mouth.

“Doon’t scream,” Soap says from in front of you, low and gravelly. His hand slips from your hair, and the familiar click of a gun safety being switched makes you shudder, grunting when the barrels pressed beneath your jaw.

You try to take stock of your surroundings—Soap kneels in front of you, left hand pushing the gun into the soft flesh beneath your jawbone to keep your head propped up, his right palm pressed over your lips, fingers digging painfully tight into your cheeks. He looks smug, though there's a hunger overshadowing the slight tug of his lips and the twinkle of his blue eyes. 

There’s a wetness between your thighs that makes you squirm, the feeling of cooling saliva quickly replaced with the swipe of a hot tongue licking over your hole. You cry out behind Soap’s palm, reaching to grab at his forearms only for two skeleton-patterned gloved hands to catch you by the wrists and tug your arms behind your back. 

“Keep em’ there,” Ghost says, making sure his legs are locked with yours to keep you pinned, his tone as simple as if he’d just ordered you to watch the corner. 

Your hands twitching is greeted with Soap’s palm slipping from your mouth, only for the gun to quickly replace it, clacking against your teeth before the acrid taste of gun metal invades your taste buds.

“You heard the man,” Soap grins, tapping his finger gently on the trigger guard, “wouldn’t want m’hand ta slip, now would we? Not tha’ it’d stop us…” 

You whimper around the barrel, feeling Ghost groan against your hole, and try to blink away the oncoming tears as Ghost returns to messily licking you out, and the reality of your situation washes over you. Ghost’s practiced in his motions, and despite the circumstances there is no rush to the way he works you over, like he has all the time in the world. You dig your nails into your forearms, crossed at your back as Ghost slips a thick, surprisingly soft finger into your clenching heat, having removed his gloves at some point. 

Soap is hard in his own jeans, the outline of his cock mere inches from your face. Your jaw aches around the gun, unable to swallow properly around the bulk of it as drool drips heavily down your chin to form a small puddle on the thin bed sheets. Soap gently rocks the pistol in and out of your mouth, watching with rapt attention how your tongue flexes restlessly along the slide.

The pink muscle flicking at his finger where it rests on the trigger guard seems to be his limit, as he shoves the gun forward just enough to make you gag before yanking it out, the tears finally streaming down your cheeks as you cough. 

“Ghost,” Soap grunts, handing the gun off to the Lieutenant behind you, feeling it press flat between your shoulder blades, the cold ridges pressed to your spine by Ghost’s palm holding it there. Soap grasps your jaw with bruising strength, tugging you up to meet his eyes, “lookit you, pathetic fuckin’ thing.”

The clink of Soap’s belt catches your attention as you glance down, only for his palm to connect hard with your cheek, making you cry out as he roughly grabs for you again.

“Look. At. Me,” he growls, your breath stuttering in a hiccup as you hold his piercing gaze even through the blur of tears. You can see the movement of him pulling his cock free in your peripheral, and whimper as he slides the sticky, soft head of his cock along your trembling lips.

“Open that mouth, baby,” he rumbles, fingers digging into the joint of your jaw when you hesitate too long, “be a good lil’ hure fer me.”

Your mouth falls open on a shuddering moan as Ghost presses the tips of two fingers to the gland of your prostate, massaging the swollen bulb with sniper precision. Soap’s prick slips past your lips, muffling your whines around the thick, meaty length of his cock. 

You can feel Ghost shift behind you, the gun trailing till his arm is hooked under your armpit, barrel dug into your jaw once again. The scrape of denim is rough along the back of your thighs, the soft cotton of his jumper bringing attention to the aching turned stinging along your back, where you can feel now with clarity where Ghost sucked hickeys into your bare skin while you slept, hyperware of the grooves where his teeth dug into your skin. 

“Bloody perfect,” Ghost murmurs, chest vibrating against your spine with the rolling deepness of his voice. His hips absentmindedly rock against yours, his breath hot against your cheek, the bulk of his weight pressing you to the mattress as he presses jarringly chaste kisses along your jawline, to the corner of your lips stretched taut around Soap’s thrusting cock. Soap gives a growling groan when Ghost’s tongue slips out, lapping lazily at the ring of spit and pre that froths around the seal of your mouth.

You feel Ghost’s free hand fumbling between your legs, the sound of his trousers being undone barely audible over the ringing in your ears. He groans as he frees himself, and you whine at the fat length of his cock slipping between your cheeks and catching on your rim. 

You struggle in earnest, trying to pull your head away from Soap’s cock while your hands, trapped beneath Ghost’s bulk, shove at the man’s stomach. Your teeth graze the sensitive flesh of Soap’s prick and he quickly pulls free from your mouth, cuffing you upside the head for the trouble.

“Don’t,” you choke out, voice sleep rough and sore from where Soap’s cockhead had tapped the start of your throat, “please don’t, I’ve never—” 

You sob as Ghost’s hips twitch, the head of his cock spreading the rim of your arsehole wide without quite pushing in. 

“Heard that, Ghostie?” Soap purrs, rocking his hips to slide his slick cock along your cheek, your warm tears against the swollen flesh making him shiver, “know how much you love a virgin hole.”

“Fuckkk,” Ghost groans, pressing his face against your neck, catching the thin skin between his teeth. His balaclava is shoved up over his nose, the scratchy material rubbing against the sensitive skin behind your ear and making your traitorous cock twitch and leak.

“Going to fucking ruin this arse,” Ghost growls. He’s suddenly rough with you, like a switch has flipped inside him. The gun is dropped to the floor somewhere as Ghost hauls you back onto your knees. He mounts up, heaving chest pressed to your back, one strong arm wrapped around your torso while the other lines up his cock with your twitching hole. 

You sob as he shoves in, giving you no time to adjust when his pelvis immediately meets your ass, heavy balls slapping against yours before he’s pulling back and shoving back in, over and over. His thrusts are steady and deep, and you instinctively grab at Soap’s wrist and waist, shoving your face between the crook of his muscled thigh and leaking cock, muffling your moans into the sweaty skin there. 

“Can’t help but feel good, huh?” Soap coos mockingly, fingers carding through your sweat slick hair, “never having taken cock, yet you’re moaning for it like a slut already. You know you were made for this, just needed us to show you.” 

You nod against Soap’s skin, breathing his musky scent in deep, pressing the flat of your tongue to his furry balls before suckling one into your mouth to earn a breathy groan from him. 

Ghost grunts and growls like an animal above you, his mouth sucking mark after mark along the side of your neck, an expanse of purples and reds that’ll be impossible to hide. His cock is so big, each time he bottoms out pushing against the squishy walls of your limits, feeling like he’s in your fucking lungs, and the bulk of his fat cockhead catches on your prostate with each in-and-out movement. 

Soap uses your hair to guide you up the pulsing length of his prick, letting you lather your tongue along the prominent vein that travels up the side, pulling his foreskin down so you can lick and suck at the glans of his tip. 

“He’s gonna breed you full,” Soap rumbles, voice soft as you slobber on his cock, “fill you with his cum ‘till it takes.”

“Please,” you gasp, muffled against Soap’s cockhead and bubbly with spit and precum, “please please, Ghost, please.”

Ghost growls like a shout, making you cry out as his teeth sink into the flesh of your shoulder and his hips begin to jackrabbit it into you, the lude sounds of his balls slapping against your flesh echoing throughout the room, the wet plap plap plap aided by the froth of his own saliva that leaks from your puffy hole down his heavy sac.

“Yeah, Simon? Gonna fuck a baby into his little virgin hole?” Soap goads, pulling your head down his length as you let out a pathetic moan, gagging and choking when your nose presses to the thatch of pubic hair at the base of his cock, eyes crossing as he holds you there, only able to breathe in the thick musk of sweat trapped there. 

You clench up tight around Ghost as you struggle and asphyxiate around Soap’s prick, and Ghost cums with a shout muffled into the bloody wound of your shoulder. His hips slam into yours, bouncing off your ass where you can already feel the red sting of bruises forming, before his movements stutter, buried to the hilt as he fills you deep with his load. 

It’s Soap who lets out a moan next, yanking you off his cock just as he cums, decorating your purple-red face with his spend as you cough and heave for breath. You reach up to pull his foreskin back down and seal your lips around his tip, whining brokenly as he strokes the last of his cum onto your waiting tongue. 

It’s the taste of him that does you in, swallowing him down with a keen as your cock pulses and spurts cum onto the bed sheets below. 

You collapse fully to the bed, cheek pressed to the sweat damp sheet cooling in the night air. Soap pets at your hair, his nails scritching gently at the base of your skull and making your skin tingle pleasantly. Ghost is a large, comforting weight along your back, his soft but heavy cock still buried inside you and occasionally twitching with another pulse of cum he shoots into you with a shudder and what you can only describe as a whimper from his scratchy throat. 

He licks over the lazily oozing wound of his bite mark, the both of you floating as Soap slips from the bed to begin your guys’ aftercare routine.

[radio-writes]

It's about time for your blood to spill + you should sleep + we were soulmates

(Congrats on the 300 followers btw!)

Now, The Echoes Interlace

300 Followers Event

Warnings: Blood, physical injuries to reader, ambiguous major character death(s), angst

Tags: Alastor x reader, gn reader, relationship can be read in any way

MDNI

"You always have looked so pretty in red, Al." You hummed as your combed your fingers through his soft hair. You pressed your fingers against his scalp, lightly massaging against his antlers.

The light static that varied in volume crackled. "Fuck you." Alastor managed to say as his head laid on your lap.

His smile was strained—present, of course, as it always was, but strained. The trail of blood from his mouth dripped from his chin, joining the warm pool under both your bodies.

"Rude." You scolded him. Your breath coming out in a hiss as Alastor dug his claws into an open wound on your leg. 

"Must you continue to hurt me? You're already dying." You glared down at him as you would at a misbehaving pet.

You leaned forward, easily removing his hand from your body without much of a struggle. He only had so much strength left after all. 

"Fuck you." Alastor repeated, static morphing his voice this time around.

"Yes, well, I get that you're mad, Al." You continued your casual tone. "But it was about time for your blood to spill, don't you think?"

You grunted as you leaned your back against the cold wall again, sighing as the tension on the wound across your stomach was lessened.

"F—"

"Fuck me, yes yes." You cut him off. "Save your strength or you'll die out faster."

Alastor didn't mean to listen to you, but he just felt far too tired to argue otherwise.

Your hand returned to his head, damp with sweat and blood, and yet somehow still so adorably fluffy. Leave it to this guy to still look so presentable even when dying a second time around.

Your fingers scratched at one of his tufts of hair, causing it to give a slight, involuntary twitch.

"So they are ears." Your voice was soft. "I always assumed but was never really sure, you know?"

Alastor didn't respond. His red eyes continued to glare at you.

He adjusted his hands to lay over his chest. A weak attempt to slow his loss of blood. He didn't even have enough energy to press on it anymore.

"Hey, Al." You wheezed, breath slightly knocked from you. You had adjusted the way you sat so the demon could lay more comfortably on your lap. "Do you remember how we first met?"

"You told me that cheesy pick up line. How'd it go again?" Your hand paused as you tried to remember. 

A rather dashing demon slid up to you at the bar; charming, sharp smile, on full display. You've seen all sorts of sinners by now, but none so happy while rotting in hell.

You expected him to sell you drugs, or quite bluntly tell you to sleep with him. What you got instead was a very corny: 

"You must be buried treasure, because I am absolutely digging you." You let out a tired laugh, hand continuing to pet Alastor once more.

The sound of static crackling again was the only response you got. You think it meant fuck you. 

"Well you must be treasure as well, Al. Because it seems I'll be burying you tonight." You met Alastor's harsh glare with a soft smile.

"What? That absolutely was funny, you can't deny it." You defended yourself.

Alastor didn't think him dying was funny at all, actually, but he didn't exactly have any energy left to say that.

His smile was a tight, close lipped one, but you see his lips try to curl just a tiny bit in what you assumed would have been a snarl. 

"You always thought I was hilarious." Your own hand moving over the gash on your neck as if it was a mild inconvenience. You titled your head as you looked down at the demon on your lap. "What changed?"

Alastor merely glared at you.

Your eyes traveled down his body, staying on the deep wound oozing across his chest.

"That's not fair, Al." You laughed tiredly, eyes staying on his bloodied torso. "I always thought you were incredibly handsome—sinfully so really. But your attempts at killing me never changed that."

"Fuck you." The static over his voice was gone now. His tone was as spiteful, angry, and condescending as always, but much, much weaker.

Your eyes drifted back to his face. His smile was still present, but his lovely red eyes seemed more unfocused than they were a second ago.

Your hand in his hair stopped their movements. For a moment, the world was still as you wondered if your company had already left.

But it was merely for a heart beat, as a ragged breath from his lips snapped time back into motion.

You pealed your fingers from his hair, bringing them down to softly rub your knuckles down his cheek. He doesn't so much as flinch, but, you knew he would have had he been able to.

"Hey, old pal." You cooed softly. "You should sleep, you look so very tired."

His fingers on his chest twitched once, but you didn't get much of a reply anymore after that.

You sighed heavily. Your hands rested on his face as you leaned your head against the wall behind you, face craned upwards to the red sky that covered all of Hell.

Your own eyes closed, realizing just how tired and weary you yourself were.

Still, you were never one to be silent around a friend—or foe. It had always been unclear to you when it came to Alastor.

"We were soulmates, wouldn't you say so, Al?" You continued softly. "But in a funnier way, I think, where we were always meant to destroy the other."

Alastor's skin felt as it always did beneath your fingers. The stench of blood heavy as it always was around him. You felt his familiar eerie presence by you, as you always did.

And yet, you were unsure if he actually was still there. You were quite conflicted about how you were supposed to feel about that, truth be told.

"Fuck you, old friend." You sighed, eyes remaining closed, smile tiredly stretching across your own lips.

[the-modern-typewriter]

Peace, Love and...

The ropes were numerous, and painstakingly knotted to form an intricate spiderweb which stretched between two pillars on the left hand side of the room.

Cai hung in the web’s centre.

The golden thread wound around what felt like every inch of his body, pinning his arms and legs spread-eagled, curling firmly around his torso to hold him as secure and as thoroughly stuck as any good spider’s prey. His toes touched the floor only precariously to help hold him steady.

Every tug, every waver, every twitch of movement caused the small silver bells hooked to the web to chime softly.

The trick was to be as still, as quiet, as possible.

Nonetheless.

The bells chimed.

It had been less than five minutes.

Adam lounged on the sofa not far away, a whip dangling insouciantly from one hand, a book in the other. He was the picture of idle, entirely too lovely, cruelty – something that the Greek’s would have carved and marvelled at.

At the chime, his attention cut up, and his hand lashed out with wicked speed and wickeder precision.

Cai bit down hard on his lip, jolting on instinct at the hot sting of pain on his thigh. The bells chimed again.

Adam grinned, feral. His fingertips caressed the whip’s handle in a way that he had many times caressed the curve of Cai’s skin, his cheek, the bow of his lip. His gaze roamed over Cai like he was considering the next place to strike, in retaliation of that sound.  

“That’s not fair,” Cai gasped. “You have to let me adjust. Nobody holds still when they’re hit!”

“I’m sorry,” Adam replied, “at which point did I promise you fairness? Love, most certainly, war – of a sort, perhaps. But fairness?”

He landed another blow, a third, and then seemed to take pity.

“Fairness,” Adam settled back down, “was never especially on the agenda. Stillness is. You’re the one who wanted to work on being mindful, I am merely supporting you in your goals like a dutiful husband.”

“I suggested we try meditation!”

“My voice is music. I am your guide.”

Adam’s voice had turned dry at the words, and Cai just managed to catch himself before he snorted with laughter. Laughter really wouldn’t help his predicament. He watched the way that Adam’s fingers moved over the whip handle again, quite happily awaiting any opportunity, guessing at that laughter. His stare was fixed on Cai, intent, nowhere near as careless as his posture.

The urge to laugh faded out. He just as quickly wanted to shiver, with a pleased sort of anticipation. He knew that stare.

Cai swallowed. He stilled himself once more, and thought that Adam might have a point. Not about his voice being music, exactly, however partial Cai was to the cadences of his husband’s tone, but…  

“I think I have an idea,” Adam said, with a tone of relenting somewhat, or at least of shifting gears. “Hold still now.” He discarded the book and got up from his seat, crossing the room and returning with a blindfold. He placed it over Cai’s eyes, knotting it tight with deft movements. “There. No distractions.” Adam’s lips were hot, and very distracting, by his ear. “Say thank you.”

“Are you actually planning to top me into meditation?”

“Meditation is just subspace for vanilla people. Hush, that’s an order. Bratting does not equal mindfulness, it makes you too busy thinking how you can beat me. You can’t.”

Cai’s mouth snapped shut.  

Adam didn’t take that particular tone with him very often, but when he did…there really was something about that voice.

“Good,” Adam murmured. “Now…” he heard Adam’s footsteps move back to the sofa. “Listen.”

Cai had lost count of the number of times, of ways, that Adam had tied him up. Sometimes, it was because Cai wanted to feel restrained, other times because Adam wanted the feeling of having someone at his mercy. It was always because of the aesthetic, and, today, it was supposedly because of the calm.

Supposedly.

The act of being bound was calming, the act of being whipped was not. But wasn’t that Adam all over? He had a weakness for irony, the juxtaposition of contrasting elements, for the artistry of it all. It was one of the many things that Cai loved about him; he always managed to do the unexpected in some small way, even after all of their years together.

“Focus on the feeling of the rope,” Adam said, as steady as metronome, low and impossible to ignore. “On your breath, on holding still for me. That’s all I expect from you. Art is seen and not heard.”

Cai focused on the feeling of the rope, on his breath, on the effort it took to hold himself still. The muscles in his calves burned. It was, in its way, actually quite meditative.

The ropes today had been picked because they were silken; strong, but soft upon Cai’s skin. They were easy to focus on.

The point of the calming kind of meditation, at least from Cai’s reading, was to focus one’s body on specific sounds, or objects, or sensations, in order to cultivate a peaceful mind and an enhanced state of concentration. That was what he’d told Adam. Apparently, between his eye rolls, Adam had payed attention.

“You are not going anywhere,” Adam said. “You are safe, I’ve got you.”

There was simply the rope, the chimes, the whip. 

And, as always, there was him.

***

“Cai.”

Adam’s fingers were careful brushing his face, undoing the blindfold, letting the light of the world with all of its distractions seep back in.

“Cai.”

Cai opened his eyes, a little dazed, and certainly peaceful. He had lost track of time or at least stopped counting it. It had taken him a while to figure out how to hold still, to let go of the restless needs of the day and life, but once he was tied up there wasn’t really much a guy could do. Just like Adam said. Listening to his voice, his breath, it had been easy.

Adam stood in front of him, and Cai wasn’t entirely sure when he’d moved. His expression was one of a fond sort of amusement. “Are you still with me?” Adam asked. “Or have you found yogic bliss?”

Cai nodded.

“Oh, so yogic bliss?”

“You’re hilarious,” Cai said, without bite. “I’m with you. Always am.”

“Good,” Adam said, still watching him. A softer smile had crossed his lips. “You went very quiet. Very still.”

“Wasn’t that the point?”

“I didn’t expect it to be that effective - I was planning to torment you mercilessly. It would have been very cathartic.”

Cai simply gave a peaceful sort of hum and Adam laughed, quietly, shaking his head. He’d abandoned the whip, and his seeming initial plans, on the sofa. He reached up to check the ropes around Cai’s hands, going through the practiced motions of making sure Cai still had all the right circulation in his fingers.

“Are you ready to come down?” he asked.

Cai shook his head.

Adam laughed again.

“I suppose I could keep you up there like an exhibition piece.” He stroked his fingers down along Cai’s chest. “You’re rather calming to look at like this. Can’t get into any trouble.”

“I am the height of zen, I never get myself in trouble.”

“Uh-huh. I’m taking you down now. Come here.”

Soon enough, Cai’s feet were firmly planted on the floor once more, and Adam’s arm was wrapped firmly around his torso to hold him secure. The rest of the ropes fell away. Cai led him over to the sofa and they sprawled there for a while.

“So,” Cai said eventually. “If I suggest that we try couple’s yoga…?”

Adam’s fingers wound in his hair, tugging his head back to contort his spine, and kissed Cai’s cheek.

“I’m sure I’ll think of something much more fun.”

It was, to neither of their surprise, much more entertaining.

[dilfhos]

*busts down your door* OKAY LISTEN HERE. I DONT SIMP FOR TOJI BUT I WANT YOU TO HAVE FUN AND CREATE CHAOS SO THIRSTY ASK: TOJI HUMILIATING READER CAUSE SHE WANTS TO RIDE THAT DICK SO BAD BUT HE WONT LET HER 😭😭😭😭

for meeeeeee? :O

WHO: TOJI FUSHIGURO x FEM!READER

+degradation, dacryphilia, dirty talk, overstim, use of bitch (half affectionate or not idc >:)), brat-taming.

MINORS + ageless blogs DNI.

You think it’s over. He’s finally given you what you want and you’re grinning…

“No,” Toji suppresses the urge to grin at the sight of your reactions, his hands only coming up to brush away the ones gripped on his shirt. “Not in the mood t’night.”

You sit back, palms spread across the expanse of his chest as you peer up at him. He offers a scowl in return before his hips are bucking, a signal for you to get off. Flopping beside him in defeat, you glare at the magazine he deemed more important than what you were offering. Baiting. And needing.

“Why’re you being like this?” He sighs emphatically as if your very presence in the shared bedroom was a complete hindrance to the mundane task of reading at ten in the evening.

“Why’re you actin’ like you call the shots? It’s a turn-off y’know?” He sneers.

“You’re a turn-off,” You mumble half-heartedly. He’s intentionally silent.

Toji’s left you unsatisfied for weeks, his grumbles of work becoming redundantly annoying. It only drives the desperation and lowers your dignity as you find yourself overwhelmed with need for just an inkling of his attention.

To him, it was one of many games he enjoyed playing in way of fucking with your head. Oh, how you looked with dumbstruck eyes as he brushed you off as any other woman and not his lover, The gears in your head turning as you tried desperately to force your way back into his arms. His curt responses and blatant rejection only fueled you to push harder. He enjoyed shoving you to the brink of crumbling, only for him to grip all your pieces back together.

Your brazen shows were adorably tempting but not enough for him to loosen his resolve. (Not yet.)

Like now, as you’ve deliberately flexed your body toward your nightstand to retrieve your water. The shirt—his shirt—rises up over your hips to expose the cheeky thong embedded between your ass and Toji’s eyes move to the back of your head until you turn around, an incredulous expression on his face.

“Desperate huh,”

“I don’t know what you mean,” You shrug, eyes darting away. “‘M not gonna force you to be intimate, I’ll just find someone else to occupy my time. Maybe G-”

“Look at you, fuckin’ slut.” He places his reading material on the nightstand as he stands. “You’re pouting and baiting after I said no to touching your little cunt. Why don’t you go fuck yourself, hm?” There’s an amused lilt to his words as his brow twitches implicitly.

You frown, thighs flexing at his cruel, harsh tone, completely unfazed. Why would you waste time with your toys when you could have the real thing in all its thick, heavy glory?

Toji was absolute in his decisions up until now, never looking your way all week in your skimp sets and not bothering to say anything to your advances. But when you tried to act innocent or even worse, play on his emotions, it made him wanna see you cry.

Literally.

It’s why his grip is so bruising and his body is hard stone as he looms over your trembling body, ecstatic at the fat tears rolling down your swollen cheeks.

“It’s t’much!”

“Too much she says,” He chuckles, a maniacal grin on his face. He merely shoves your punily fumbling hands aside, attacking your swollen clit with his calloused thumb. “No, I think this is exactly enough. For needy little bitches like you?”

Your hips rear off the bed electrified, tears falling as you slap at his wrists in desperation.

“Won’t do it again! T’much….TOJI!”

“Mhm, lemme hear you again slut,” His hand strikes firmly against your tits, the sting sending your body squirming. His fingers are merciless as they pinch and pull at your taut nipples, his grin only widening when he feels you coming undone.

Your essence flows like a flood, drenching his arm and sheets in downpour. He’s still going, arm flexing with finesse as his fingers rub against your ridges, that abused spot inside you making more tears fall.

“Please, no more! N’more!” Your cunt squelches as it weeps around his digits, your frantic whines falling on uncaring ears. Your legs splay instinctively in an attempt to kick him off but he’s shoving them away, crawling over you with his weight.

“Stop moving. You asked for this,” He grumbles, pinning your wrist under his large palm. His others is shoving your sticky thighs apart again, exposing your sloppy cunt to the cool air. You’re too stunned to realize the fat head of his cock slickening your folds until he’s shoving himself in, grip tightening on your wrists when you buck off the bed. His hand smushes your damp cheeks together, drinking in your disheveled state as his stroke begin, punishable.

“Oh baby, look at me now. Talk for me like you were doing earlier,” he cooed wickedly, your blubbering incoherent.

“‘M sorry, please!” You’re not sure whether you’re begging him to stop or ravage you more, you’re only stuck on the overbearing pressure building in your tummy again. His cock is fat and heavy as it drags through your slobbering cunt, the paps of skin deafening over your whines.

“Keep crying, just gonna make me fuck ya’ harder, heh.” He releases you, hands palming your thighs flush against the mattress as he thrusts into you. The bed rattles on its legs as you cry his name, the noises around him synonymous to his own growls.

“Take it. Take daddy’s fat dick baby, I wanna see you cryin’” You’re clinging to his wrists, your whining incoherent as your vision doubles with tears. There’s a blurry Toji above you, grinning down like a fucked god at its prize, watching as you cry and squirm in his grip. It isn’t until his hand comes up to snake around your jaw when you’re mumbling promises that you’ll be good from now on. That you’ll love him forever no matter how mean he is! That no one ever compares to Toji! Not even him!

“‘M cumming! T-Toji!” It isn’t until his hand delivers a quick succession of pats against your wet cheek does your cunt clamp him in like a vice. He grunts as you grab him, wrapping your arms around his thick neck, your heels digging into the small of his back as you tug him close. His nut jets into you, Toji’s hips shallowly grinding against your ass. He stills momentarily, face nuzzling the side of your damp neck before he rises.

You think its over. He’s finally given you what you want and you’re grinning. A fucked-out mess, sighing blissfully as you prepare to move. In one lithe motion however, he has you by your ankle as you’re now on your stomach, face smushed into the mattress by his palm.

“Now tell me again about Gojo.”

DILFOS. DO NOT PLAGIARIZE MY CONTENT—CURRENT OR ARCHIVAL.

[sensitive-neuvi-enthusiast]

Day 17: Face-fucking

♤♡-Pairs: Capitano x fem!reader

☆☆-Warnings: slight rough treatment, hair pulling, cuming in your mouth, crying, messy, self-play, Capitano doesn't talk much but he loves fucking your mouth ♡♡

Large gloved hands grip tight to your hair, the strands wrapped neatly around it. A slight tug made your eyes water, the mascara you had so delicately put on this morning was now streaming down your cheeks. Staining your skin a grayish color. Your mouth was stretched wide around his cock, a mixture of saliva and precum leaking from the corners. His cock slid in and out, the tip curving down into the back of your throat. Of course you choked, but that only made him thrust harder.

Per your request.

Capitano could be seen somewhat of a gentle giant, as long as you were on his side; or the Tsaristas. And normally he'd never treat your mouth this harsh. Choking and gagging you on his thick length. Watching when it curved down your throat, he could see it from the outside. No, he knew how big he was, so he was always careful. But what could he do when his baby, begging so sweetly when he returned home from a mission, to fuck her throat.

You couldn't quite tell his facial expression from behind the mask, but he agreed anyway. But judging now? You'd say he was enjoying it. Your nose continues to brush against the coarse black tuft of hair above his length. The small glimpse of his abs from the raised shirt tucked underneath his masked chin. Muscles flexing and pulling taught every time he'd move his hips. And you couldn't see, but you're sure his balls were heavy, full of the sweet seed you so desperately begged for him to shoot down your throat.

Your mouth hurt, being stretched more than its normal amount to accommodate his girth. But you didn't mind. Your pretty eyes fluttered, looking up at him as more tears rolled down your face. And even though you couldn't see, he was looking at you too. The grip in your hair had gotten tighter. Soon, he was moving both hands to the sides of your head, your hair long forgotten in favor of an anchor. Keeping your head still as he picked up his pace. You couldn't help yourself. The feeling of him using your mouth made your hand travel south. Slipping in between your thighs, your fingers immediately seeking out your clit. Circling it with need as you moaned around him.

He grunted, "Pretty." Was all he said as he continued to fuck your hot mouth. He was a man of few words, but when he spoke, it never failed to send a shiver down your spine. Your hips helplessly thrusted forward, fingers sliding with how much slick you were producing. "Close," another grunt left his mouth as his head tipped slightly back. Pumping three more times before he held your face flush with his stomach. Cock twitching as it unloaded every ounce of cum he'd built up since he saw you last. It was a lot. Some of it leaks out and down your chin. Your hips stuttered, fingers now coated in your arousal.

His chest heaved as he looked down at you, petting your hair before slowly pulling out. And you could sense he grinned when you swallowed what was left. His head craned downwards, noticing how you came from him merely fucking your mouth.

He hummed in approval, moving to slip off his mask. He wasn't done with you yet.

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