#bastard prod

[kxllerblond]

Clark being a petty lil' bitch and setting off all of Trapper's traps in his realm at once with his stupid lil' powers because he called him a city boy.

[fatedevour]

♢  —     @bogachs​​​ said:  “Don’t you dare ignore me!” (you reblog this, and my pantalone muse just pushed me to send this right away because yOU KNOW this is pantalone core bgtrhjg)

send ‘ Don’t you dare ignore me! ‘ for my muse’s reaction

   There’s a flash of sadistic delight in red voids upon hearing the WRATH and irritation that drip from Pantalone’s words like beads of venom from a snake’s fangs. Not that Pantalone can see it with how Dottore’s back was turned to him as he slid a book back into its place on one of the nearly organized shelves. The UNFLAPPABLE regrator showing cracks that splinter in his perfect masks. Pantalone always ensures that they are perfectly presented, a haughty air draped around him like the finest silks. But ignoring him? Pantalone never reacts WELL to it. And sometimes that only calls to the beast to make him want to sink his claws in further and bring out that UGLINESS that Pantalone disguises. Because you could trust in Pantalone’s rage. If nothing else, that was often genuine when it revealed itself.

   Dottore only then turns towards Pantalone, taking a few strides across the room to trap Pantalone closer to the wall.  “  Or WHAT?  “  He challenges, red eyes sharp and ruthless; the eyes of a monster whose already laid eyes on the prey it wants.  “  You’re just as starved as the rest, wanting to GORGE yourself on attention. So desperate for MY attention. It’s a rather NICE look on you.  “  Dottore grins, purposefully looking to provoke those flames of anger. If his words didn’t do it, then the fact Dottore clearly wasn’t taking it SERIOUSLY might very well do that.  “  You look nice all angry.  “

   He leans closer still, indifferent to the rest of the environment at the moment. “  Would you threaten a higher up? Tsk. We can’t have that.  “  Even if they both know a KISS of cold METAL brought by Pantalone’s hands, be it blade or a gun, will not make the doctor bat an eyelash. A hand lifts up to trail along Pantalone’s throat, and then grasp his jaw in hand.  “  You haven’t forgotten, have you? A wild animal is still a wild animal.  “

   His chin tilts up slightly, arrogant and proud as he stares at the banker through long lashes with a grin that borders between twisted amusement and arrogance that could scorch the heavens. And a subtle third thing, a beckoning, an invitation, let their monsters play together. Show me tht anger.  “  You have my attention, but can you keep it?  Time’s ticking, dear Pantalone. “ He purrs, alert and attentive to see what his PARTNER would do. 

[the-lady-hestia]

Samuel Dalton Reich has, at this point, concocted a show where nobody is safe. Nothing matters and yet everything is examined in excruciating detail. This man, nay, this monster is the master of the labyrinth that is Game Changer and there isn’t a damned soul that can stop him. Not Brennan, Not Trapp

Nobody

They are but pawns in his game

They wander the board, stumbling through puzzles and challenges all while being watched by a cruel taskmaster

And the only way to learn is by playing

The only way to win survive is by learning

And the only way to begin is by beginning

new game changer episode was pretty good. pretty good. pretty good. pretty good. pretty good.

[thenwothm]

RIOT CITY GEARING UP TO STRIKE PERU!

Experience the exhilaration of Classic Heavy Metal as Riot City, hailing from Canada and renowned as the revelation band of the genre, makes its debut in Juliaca on their “Latin American Tour 2023.” The showcase will feature tracks from their album “Electrical Elite,” promising a night of adrenaline and power that only Heavy Metal can deliver. Joining the lineup is the formidable Blizzard Hunter…

[nebulaafterdark]

The Rats (Pt. 3)

Aegon ii x Velaryon(Strong)! Reader

Summary: Aegon attempts to make peace with Rhaenyra after being forced to usurp her throne. Lucerys’ death complicates things.

18+ ONLY, MDNI. Targcest, smut, angst, violence. S2 SPOILERS

Part 1 | Part 2

“With free reign of King’s Landing, Aemond will focus his attention on the occupation of bast-” Aegon’s face flushes bright red. “Harrenhal.” He corrects himself, “and the extermination of house Strong.”

“What did you call it?” Daemon arches a brow.

“Harrenhal,” Aegon repeats.

“Before that,” Daemon prods.

Aegon sighs, looking to his wife.

“Bastardhal.” Y/N rolls her eyes.

“My brother’s term of endearment.” He explains, “a slip of the tongue.”

“Mmm,” Daemon hums. “Perhaps allegiance to your brother runs deeper than you let on.”

“I have left my siblings and abandoned my post to be here. I remain loyal to Rhaenyra’s claim and her line of succession. What else would you have me do?” Aegon scoffs.

“There are a number of things.”

“If you refuse to believe that Aegon is loyal to our queen, believe that he is loyal to me and I am loyal to my mother.” Y/N takes a protective step in front of her husband.

Daemon’s jaw ticks, frustrated and teetering near sanity’s edge. “You then, are responsible for his indiscretions.”

“I take full responsibility.” Y/N agrees, “he is here for me.”

“Perhaps he might further demonstrate his loyalty.”

“And how, do you suggest, I do that?” Aegon wonders.

“Deliver us your brother’s head on a platter.” Daemon sneers.

“Mother!”

“Am I wrong, Rhaenyra?” Daemon scoffs.

“That is enough!” The Queen slams her fist against the table. “Thank you, Aegon for the information you provided. We will coordinate with our army and send reinforcements to Harrenhal. We will send word to Cregan Stark-”

“By raven?”

“However I see fit, Daemon. Stay your hand.” Rhaenyra snaps. “You are all excused.”

Aegon is out the door just as swiftly.

Y/N flinches as it slams behind him.

Jacaerys remains stoic in the corner, saying nothing for a long while as his mother and step father begin bickering. “Sister,” he nods toward the hallway.

Y/N returns the gesture, following him out past the royal guards. “The nerve of him.” She is fuming as they begin strolling the grounds.

“That is Daemon.” Jacaerys breathes. “Pay him no mind.”

“It’s not as if I don’t want Aemond’s head. Luce is our brother, for the gods’ sake.”

Jace swallows, mouth set in a firm line. “He was our brother.”

Was…is he not anymore?

“In these dealings with Aemond, you must remember that killing him will not bring Luce back.”

“It would be even.”

“A son for a son was also even.” Her brother reminds her. “Your grievance with it hath brought you here.”

“I should have allowed the murder of a child?”

“I did not say that.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“What is even is not always right, I expect you know that by now.”

“Indeed.”

“Ravens will take too long.” Jacaerys laments, “but mother will not let us deliver messages anymore. It is a shame that our safety comes at the expense of other’s.”

Y/N draws in a steadying breath. “Pity.” She turns away, in the direction of her chambers. Aegon is waiting for her there, sipping from a pitcher of wine. “Did they not give you a cup, my darling?”

“Hmm,” Aegon hums into the container, “of course.” He lowers the pitcher from his mouth, “but this is faster.”

The princess puts a hand to her head.

“I am not a dog that’s been kicked, do not look at me that way. As if I am weak.”

“I love you and you are hurting.” Y/N sighs, “I do not know how else to look at you.”

Aegon mulls this over for a moment. “I did not mean to call it bastardhal.”

“I know that.”

“You are not a bastard.” He presses on, “I am sorry for ever calling you one.”

“You are forgiven.” It is nothing more than a word. It cannot harm her anymore.

“If no house would claim you, then I would.”

Y/N gives him a sad smile, “thank you, Aegon.”

“You think I jest? Or does it simply mean nothing coming from me?”

“It means everything coming from you,” Y/N takes a step toward him. “Forgive me if I have made it seem-”

“No,” Aegon shakes his head, “forgive me. I am lost in this. I mustn’t take my frustration out on you.”

Y/N cups his face in her hands. “If you are loved by no one, know you are loved by me.“

“Without you I have nothing.” He reaches a shaky hand out, stroking her hair, reverently. “I am nothing.”

She draws back, searching his eyes. “That is not true.”

“If you ask me to slay my brother, I will do it.” Aegon breathes.

Y/N presses her lips together. She had not asked, Daemon did. But Aegon does not bend to Daemon’s will, only hers.

“Please do not ask.” He murmurs with wide, sad eyes.

Y/N cannot stand to see him cry. It tears at the depths of her soul. She wraps her arms around him, “I will not ask.”

Aegon clings to her. “I would do it.”

“I know, my love.” Y/N presses kisses to the side of his face. She knows his sadness, the burden of being least loved by everyone else. Some part of him will always seek to win her approval, her affection… her love.

He is pawing at her then, at the laces of her dress. He does not know how to comfort her, nor himself. He knows how to bring pleasure so blinding it nearly drowns out the pain.

Y/N helps him remove his clothes, wrapping him up in her arms. “I love you.”

“As I love you.” He’s stumbling backwards then, hovering over her on the bed. Easing his cock into her.

She sighs, losing herself in the gentle rocking of his hips. There is no haste to reach their peak, taking what little comfort they can from each other.

It is not until his thumbs skate over her cheeks that Y/N realizes she is crying. Even here, on their marriage bed, there is no end to suffering. Only an end to loneliness.

————————————————————————

Y/N waits until Aegon is sleeping soundly to clamber from the warmth of his arms and dawn her riding gear. Dragonstone is quiet as she makes her way down to the dragon pit. Stormborn is nestled in beside Sunfyre, her light blue scales complement the golden hue of her companion.

“Where are you off to at this hour, your grace?” One of the keepers asks.

“I’m going to take Stormborn out for a bit of fresh air. The moon is beautiful this evening, don’t you agree?” Y/N smiles, tucking a bit of loose hair behind her ear.

“Indeed, Princess.” He eyes the sword, sheathed at her back.

“This is only a precaution,” Y/N lies, “we can never be too careful in these times.”

He nods, “I will saddle her.”

“Thank you, Marcelo.” Y/N nods, tugging on her riding gloves as she waits. Tapping at her wedding band, beneath the cool fabric.

“She is ready, your grace.”

“Thank you, again.” She says, climbing up onto Stormborn’s saddle.

“It is my great honor.” The man smiles, watching in wonder as the princess sets off across the sea.

Only a few torches are lit at the entrance of Harrenhal.

Y/N lands near the stone walkway, striding up to the tall hooded figure and ripping back his cloak.

Aemond turns to his assailant. “Y/N?”

“Take out your sword.” She demands.

“Lucerys death was a tragic mistake, a lapse in judgment I do not care to repeat.”

“I will not kill you with your back to me, I am no coward. You will face me, take out your sword.”

“For the sake of the gods, Y/N,” Aemond growls. “Do you aim so desperately to break my brother’s heart?”

“I will not allow the slaughter of innocent people. This ends here.”

“A brother for a brother it will be then, not a son for a son.” Aemond reluctantly withdraws his weapon.

Y/N charges him, in a blind rage, their blades meet, clanking together.

“You make a better sparring partner than most.” He draws his sword away, narrowly dodging her next attack.

“This is not a children’s game, I want your head!”

Aemond purrs, “you must earn it then.”

She sees red, swinging at him again, until his blade slices across her side and she has cut deep into the flesh of his leg. Bringing the Prince to his knees, with her sword at his neck.

“Do it,” Aemond insists, “you will not get another chance.” He stares up at her blade, dripping with his blood. The fear etched into her eyes, tresses of dark hair clinging to her sweat damp skin.

In this light, each of them resemble their brother.

The end Y/N desires is so near she can taste it, rising like bile in her throat. She chokes on it. “No.” She drops her blade from his neck, covering her aching side instead. “No.”

Aemond hangs his head. “I am sorry for that business with Luce. I lost my temper that day.”

“And I lost my…” No, she cannot say it, the pain is too great.

“Let me see your wound.” Aemond insists.

In her shock, Y/N obeys.

He tears across the bottom of his cloak, knotting the material firmly around her torso. Unbothered by her hissing protest. “This will hold until you reach Dragonstone. Go to Aegon, he will tend you.”

“You must leave this place.”

“You have my word.”

“And you must leave King’s Landing.”

Aemond smirks, “where would I go?”

“Anywhere.” Y/N suggests, “take Helaena and your children. We both know, she is too kind to bear the weight of the crown and our blood. Take her away so she might be happy…and free.”

“Do you not wish to be free from the weight of the crown?”

Y/N hesitates for a long moment. “I am the crown. I am my mother’s heir, her only daughter. I cannot abandon her, she has lost too much.”

Aemond swallows, “very well. Helaena will write you. You and my brother might visit, once we’re settled.”

“Perhaps we will.” She will never forgive him for Lucerys. They will never be as they were before Storm’s End. “You are my husband’s brother and husband of my dearest friend.”

“I am also your brother’s murderer. A title that trumps all, despite your best intentions. You are good, and kind, but human all the same.”

————————————————————————

“Aegon.”

“Hmm?” He reaches for his wife, blindly, stroking a hand over her dark waves. “What have you done to your hair, darling girl?” He grumbles, “it is awfully coarse.”

Jace bats Aegon’s hands away. “My sister is gone, you buffoon. Get your clothes on.”

“Jacaerys?” Aegon springs up, covering himself with the top sheet. “What are you doing?”

“Y/N is missing. The dragon handlers informed me that she left on Stormborn nearly two hours ago. Sunfyre has been yowling ever since.”

“Alert your mother,” Aegon demands, “raise the guard. Who on earth let the heir to the throne take a dragon from the pit in the middle of the night?”

“She is a princess, not a prisoner.” Jace reminds him, “I have a hunch as to where she went.”

“Harrenhal.” Aegon begins tugging on his clothes. The little brat bedded him and snuck off; again. “She will be a prisoner upon her return. I tire of these games.”

“You mustn’t be so harsh, my sister would go to the ends of the earth for you.”

“Yet she will not stay with me.” Aegon steps into his boots. “Surely she loves me so dearly that she flees at every opportunity.”

“Do not see it that way.” Jace sighs.

“I have no other way to see it.” Their chamber door swings open, revealing the woman in question.

“Aegon,” Y/N chokes. The blinding rush of battle is gone, leaving only her pain.

“Leave us,” Aegon waves a dismissive hand at his nephew.

“Y/N,” Jacaerys looks to his sister instead.

“I am well, brother.”

“You are bleeding.”

Y/N glances down at her wound, “perhaps you might go quietly to the maester and request milk of the poppy?”

“The maester should tend you,” he argues.

“Aegon will tend me, tis but a scrape.” Y/N insists.

Her brother squares his shoulders. “Very well, I will be back.”

“Thank you, brother.” Y/N forces a smile as Jace exits the door.

“What happened?” Aegon demands, squinting into the dim light as his wife stands before him, in her riding gear.

“I could not do it.” Y/N curses her own weakness. “I went to Aemond, I stopped him from taking Harrenhal and I let him go.”

Aegon shifts her garments aside to reveal the damage. A long bleeding gash, beneath her ribs. “Aemond did this to you?” He sits her down on the foot stool, pacing in the small space before it.

“We dueled,” Y/N admits. “I made my mark on him as well.”

“Gods be good.” Aegon breathes.

“If Daemon catches word of this-”

“You are injured. That is where my interests lie, not in the folly of men.” Aegon seethes.

“He has already condoned the murder of children. Helaena’s children, of all people. What will he do if he hears of this?”

Aegon passes a hand over his face. “Surely we cannot leave the wound open like that, it will fester.”

“I know,” Y/N nods. “We must seal it up, with a heated blade. We can do it here, no one need know.” She reaches for his cup on the dresser, chugging the foul liquid down for some relief.

“You’re asking me to…” his eyes dart to his dagger, abandoned near his boots. “No.”

“Aegon.”

“I can’t.”

“It will be quick,” she reasons. “It will scar, but it is on my side, you will not look upon it often.”

“That is what you’re concerned with,” Aegon snaps, “of all things, you think I care about the scar it will leave? That I might frown upon an imperfection?”

“I-”

“You are maddening.”

“I am sorry. I do not wish to fight.”

“It is unavoidable from what I’ve heard. Marriage causes strife and disagreements.”

“Not ours,” Y/N insists, “you are the only person who understands me.”

“I do not understand why you would put yourself in danger.”

“For you.” Y/N tells him. “So you would not have to choose between your wife and your brother.”

“I would choose you, imbecile.”

Y/N bares her teeth. “I couldn’t let you.”

“Why?”

“Because you are mine, Aegon! I protect what is mine.”

In the way of the dragon. And that, Aegon understands very well.

“Here it is,” Jace returns with milk of the poppy.

“Thank you,” Aegon takes the gauntlet, bringing it to his wife’s lips. “Drink all of it.” He demands.

“Is there anything more I can do?” The other man asks.

“Rest the blade of my dagger over the fire until it glows red, then bring it to me.”

Jace nods.

“First, might you find something for her to bite down on. Leather works best.” Aegon purses his lips, “bring me my belt.” One of them is still etched with her teeth markings from Laenor’s birth. He’s delivered two of their children, surely he can do this.

Jacaerys rushes to the armchair beside the bed, tugging Aegon’s belt free and placing it on the foot stool beside his sister.

Y/N curls her fingers around the harsh material. Her vision has doubled, swaying from side to side.

“Are you going to faint?” Aegon catches her face between his hands.

“I feel fine,” Y/N slurs.

Aegon taps her chin. “That is good, my dearest love. I am going to remove your shirt.” He eases the material over her head, leaving only the bindings to cover her breasts.

“The blade is ready,” Jacaerys calls, from the fire place.

“Open.” Aegon tugs at her bottom lip with his thumb until her jaw goes slack, taking the leather belt from her clenched fist and placing the strap between her teeth. “Bite.”

Y/N clamps her teeth around it.

“Good girl.”

Jacaerys approaches, handling the instrument with care.

“You will hold me around the waist, you are not to let go until I say.” Aegon instructs, waiting until she is wrapped around him in an awkward sort of hug. “There you go.” He pats her head before taking the dagger from her brother. He offers no additional warning before lying the blade flat across the expanse of her wound. The cut is a clean one, without jagged edges.

Y/N lets out a muffled cry.

“Shh,” he hushes her, holding the heat to her skin for just a moment more before tossing the dagger away. Gingerly withdrawing the belt from her teeth. Resting his forehead against hers as whimpers settle to deep breathing. “Are you alright?”

Y/N nods.

“If you dare leave me again, Gods help me, I will shackle you to my side.”

Y/N strokes a hand over the side of his face. “Yes, Aegon.”

“I do not jest.”

Part 4

Taglist: @minttea07 @callsignwidow @fallout-girl219 @syraxnyra @vickynephilim @jeondeluxe111 @geeksareunique @arya-brooke @7minutes-tomidnight @ninastyless @aleemendoza2425-blog @livingdead-reilly @whenmypartysover @darlingisntit @nayaniasworld @uniquecroissant @spacexdrago

[flatstarcarcosa]

“So now where are we goin’?” asks Tony.

“I am trying to go to my office, and you are pretending you can’t take a hint,” says Reese.

“I take my job very seriously,” he says.

Reese quirks an eyebrow over their sunglasses. “That’s a convenient excuse for you.”

“Y’don’t like it talk to your man, he hired me,” he shoots back with a shrug.

“Calling him ‘my man’ implies I any amount of control over Norman, and I’m pretty sure the only person who ever did is long dead,” says Reese.

Tony is silent for a moment. “Oh, right,” he says, “I always forget he was married.”

“Yeah, Ares-” begins Reese, at the same time Tony says his wife. There’s another pause as they both process what the other began saying, followed by a third as they each wait for the other to continue.

Instead, Reese all but bolts in the direction of their office.

“The fuck you mean, Ares?” calls Tony.

[vilelittlecritter]

Ngl i entirely forgot you tagged me sorry

I relate to these dudes mostly because of the autism, it is almost entirely the autism. The tenth doctor was like my autistic hero my entire life and I barely knew it when I was younger, he still is.

Idc anyone following me can add on, I'm bored and tired and would like to sleep

Making a tag game cause I can

Rules: post 4 fictional characters you relate to and assume something about the person you reblogged from based on their characters

No pressure tag! @sidneyoftheblackwoods @mqstermindswift @stars-and-birds @zenilvar @forever-chained-to-myself @themidnightarcher @skeelly @thepencilsnameissteve @thislove-taylorsversion @thislifeissweeterthanfiction @swiftieannah @a-pessimistic-swiftie @catastrxblues @jellycanon @what-about-wendy and anyone else who wants to join<3

[pure-smut]

infatuated.

featuring: Ryomen Sukuna x f!reader

contains: college!Sukuna, size kink, Sukuna has a huge dick (obvs), riding, obsessive behaviour from Sukuna at the end

note: all characters are aged up to 18+!

word count: 1.8k

series: 1. infatuated | 2. obsessed | 3. addicted | 4. toxic | 5. feral

masterlist

MDNI | 18+ content

Ryomen Sakuna is well-known around campus – big, brutish, the most arrogant man to walk the planet. But if whispers amongst the girls were anything to go by, he’s also a damn good fuck.

It’s why you, fresh off the anti-climactic evaporation of a sub-par situationship that had no right to make you feel as glum as you do, have the sudden desire to fuck Sukuna.

You’re in a club, drowning your sorrows with your friends, when you lock eyes with him across the room. It’s not hard – he’s a head and a half taller than everyone else. But he doesn’t look away. And, you realise, neither do you.

Yeah, he might be a walking red flag. Yeah, you might be bitter and sad over a failed not-relationship. But it’s not like you’re fucking his personality, right? Just one good night. Just one really, really good fuck. Then you can wake up tomorrow, satisfied and ready to move on.

You down your drink and stalk over to him. Time to put those whispers to the test. *

Okay, maybe there’s some truth to the rumours.

One quick drink and a cab ride later, Sukuna has you on his lap, straddling his thighs as you make out on his sofa. He’s so big your legs are basically spread for him already, slotted on either side of his thighs as his hands grope your ass shamelessly.

He didn’t say much to you when you asked him to come home with you. Only a grin played on his lips as he grabbed your hand and said, “No. You’re coming to mine.”

You hadn’t expected him to be such a good kisser though. Your hands card through the pink hair at the nape of his neck as he slides his tongue over yours. Even with you on top of him, you know he’s actually the one in control. He dictates the pace, the speed, everything. Where your previous situationship had demanded that you do all the work, this relinquishing of control feels good. Freeing. You melt into it and into him, pressing your chest against his.

When Sukuna feels you relax, he pushes your dress up past your hips. One large finger hooks onto your panties from behind, pulling them to the side. Without breaking the kiss, he dips his free finger between your folds, checking how wet you are. You gasp at the sudden feel of his calloused finger but Sukuna quickly swallows it. At the feel of your slick arousal, his cock throbs.

“So wet already,” he murmurs, pulling his mouth back only slightly. “Just from kissing?”

Your cheeks burn but you’re distracted by a thick finger prodding your entrance. You gasp lightly and push your hips back, seeking more. Sukuna chuckles.

“I knew you were needy when you threw yourself at me tonight but still…” He grins. “You really do need a good fuck.”

“S-shut up,” you manage to stammer out but Sukuna only laughs.

He withdraws his hand and you have to supress a whine. Instead he undoes his jeans and pulls his cock free. It slaps against your stomach, hard and hot. When you look down at it, your eyes widen. Sukuna smirks – he always loves the look a girl gives him when she sees his cock for the first time.

“I don’t… I don’t know if it’ll fit.” You swallow past the lump in your throat. It’s so big, you want to say but you don’t want to feed his ego any more than necessary.

“That’s why you’re on top, baby.” Sukuna gives an easy grin. “You probably won’t be able to take it all so just do whatever you can.”

His condescending tone makes you frown. You jut your chin out defiantly. Oh, I’ll take it all, you think to yourself. Smug bastard.

You raise your hips, hovering over his fat mushroom tip. You’re already wet but he hasn’t even fingered you to prep you so you know you need to go slow. But determination courses through you. Sukuna watches you, one eyebrow cocked in amusement, as you look down in concentration. Slowly, you sink down onto his cock.

Your nails dig into the thick muscle of his shoulders as you leverage yourself. The stretch is immense but it’s delicious too – a heady mix of burning pleasure. Sukuna puts his hands behind his head, a self-assured smile on his lips as he watches you. He loves this part – loves watching girls struggle to fit him inside them. It makes his ego swell as much as his cock.

You manage a few inches before you have to stop, sweat already glazing your brow. You reach down to play with your clit, making yourself as wet as possible. Sukuna bites his bottom lip as he watches you play with yourself, a third of his cock buried inside you. You feel him throb and it only spurs you on, your pussy drooling around him, stretching to accommodate him.

“You look pretty fucking hot like this,” Sukuna admits, bringing one hand forward to grope your tit. “You need some help, baby?”

You’re too busy concentrating to speak so you give a short nod. Sukuna tweaks your nipple, rolling it between his fingers in a way that shoots sparks through your whole body. You tip your head back and gasp, feeling yourself tumbling closer to an orgasm. Even though he’s not fully inside you, his cock is managing to rub against your walls in a way that makes your eyes rolls back.

Sukuna has to admit he’s enjoying himself. The sight of you making yourself cum on his cock is pornographic and your pussy is squeezing him so tight. He has to fight to urge not to thrust up. Instead, he roughly plays with your tits, enjoying the way your nipples stiffen under his touch. Your body is so responsive to him, so ready for him. Your gummy walls massage his cock in a way that makes him want to go feral. Every muscle in his body is taut as a bowstring, restraining himself.

You open your eyes to see the hunger in his face, a notch between his brows and his lips slightly parted, eyes intense. A thrill runs up your spine. You want to see him hungrier.

Still rubbing your clit, you lower your hips and sink further onto his cock. This time, you’re able to take a few more inches, your pussy enveloping him tightly. Sukuna can’t stop himself from moaning this time, your plush walls hugging him. His hands drop to your hips, holding them with an iron grip.

“Fuck,” he breathes. “That’s good, baby, you’re doing so good.”

You’re taking him better than he thought you would. You’re two-thirds down, your lips gripping him as though you don’t want him to leave. Nevertheless, you slowly bob up and down, never fully withdrawing. The sensitive head of his cock rubs a euphoric friction against your walls, making you both moan contentedly. Sukuna half wants to stay like this forever, never leaving the hot, soft grip of your sweet pussy. The other half of him wants to pin you down and make a mess of your insides, painting your pussy white with his cum.

Your fingers pick up speed against your clit. The combination of Sukuna’s girth stretching your hole and your fingers rubbing your sensitive bud are bringing you close to the edge. You’ve nearly taken him all and you know you can do more – you just need to cum first to loosen up.

“Ah, fuck, that’s it,” Sukuna groans, his grip on your hips tightening to stop himself from bucking his hips. “Fuck yourself on my cock, baby.”

And so you do. You bounce up and down until your legs cramp, but even then, you ignore it and keep going. You rub tight circles on your clit, the way you know you like, and throw your head back in an silent scream.

“Fuck… fuck!” you squeal as your orgasm rushes through you, curling your toes and arching your back.

Sukuna watches you, his eyes flicking down to your pussy to watch your juices run down his cock. He’s almost painfully hard, teased to the brink of his own orgasm. When girls can’t take him all, he usually waits for them to finish on him before getting them to suck him off, bringing him to a finish in their mouth.

But you…

When you come down from riding your high, there’s a spark of defiance in your eyes. You plant your hands on his shoulders and, locking eyes with him, you sink your hips down until your thighs meet his.

Sukuna’s eyes widen. His breath hitches. He looks down to see you joined together, his cock fully buried inside you.

You’ve taken all of him.

“Fuuucck.” Sukuna groans long and loud, the new sensation of his cock being fully enveloped almost making him cum right then and there.

You grin, a sense of accomplishment spurring you on. Your legs are still sore so you grind against him instead, leaning forward to suck sweet kisses on his neck.

“Holy shit.” Sukuna buries his fingers even deeper into your hips, encouraging you to grind harder. “That feels so fucking good, baby.”

Your pussy is addictive. Sukuna wants to live here like this, fully sheathed inside you as your soft, hot walls milk his cock. He’s never known this sensation before, this delicious heat as your bodies fully connect. Your plush ass nestled against his thighs, your clit rubbing against him as you grind, your lips wrapped around him to the base of his cock. Fuck. You’re incredible, he thinks.

“Cum inside me, Sukuna,” you whimper in his ear.

You don’t need to tell him twice. Sukuna growls animalistically, burying his face in your neck as his cock throbs once. Twice.

You feel him explode inside you, hot, sticky cum coating your walls. You keep grinding until he’s done, milking him for all he’s worth. It’s only when you make to move away, to pull your puffy pussy away from his cock that he hardens his grip on you again.

Before you can ask him what’s wrong, he captures your lips in a deep kiss. It’s a surprise but a pleasant one – you didn’t take Sukuna for someone who kissed after sex. You make out for a while, his cum leaking out around his softening cock. It’s only when your thighs are slick with both of your juices that you pull away again.

“Thanks, Sukuna.” You smile at him. “I needed that.”

You hop off his lap, satisfied. To you, the plan worked. You’re content and ready to move on from your shitty situationship.

But Sukuna has never cum inside anyone before. Never been able to. Never met anyone who could take all of him. He watches you pad away to the bathroom to clean up, humming happily. You might be going home tonight, content and oblivious, but something dark stirs inside Sukuna. He knows he’s never letting you go.

masterlist

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[rowarn]

shadow entity!ghost part: one | two | three

cw: angry!ghost, umm he hurts u )-:, but he feels bad so it's okay, a bit shorter than other parts

the mystery surrounding ghost was driving you insane. living with a primordial entity of unfathomable horrors was already a mindfuck but now you realized it could just...erase people from existence.

no one had asked about phillip, no one had shown up to seek you out since you were the last one to see him before he vanished. you even wandered into the bar he said he frequented -- and he seemed well known in. and...nothing. no one even brought up how he went home with you and never returned. no one asked about him.

it was unnerving. had ghost somehow pulled all memory of this one human out of the world along with its physical form? where did phillip even go? all you remember was being surrounded by the shadow and how hard it was to breathe -- and the horrible, inhuman scream before silence.

it had already confirmed that it wasn't a ghost. so what was it?

"ghost?" you called into the house as you returned from the bar, "can you come out so we can talk?"

as you stepped into the living room, you took a glance at the scorch mark on the floor before your attention was diverted to it -- a shadowy manifestation across from you.

it didn't speak, simply stood there. usually you would divert your eyes from its face because something about it unsettled you, but this time you stared right at it. shapes formed and faded before your eyes, making you wonder if you were really seeing them in the first place. eyes, sometimes two sometimes dozens. a vague, fading silhouette of a skull face. you wonder if it intentionally let you see these images or if it just was.

"i-i want to know..." you swallow thickly around the nervous lump in your throat, "is phillip dead?"

it was quiet for a moment, "not quite."

"what's that mean? where is he?" you prod, furrowing your brows as you stare at it, hoping that it can understand your pleading.

"why do you care?"

"b-because..." you sputtered, licking your dry lips, "i just...want to know."

"he's in the pits," it finally supplies, sounding almost bored.

"...of hell?" you sputter, "so you're a demon?"

"your hell is a bastardization of the pits," it explains, "where i come from is not hell. it's worse, darker. that's where i put the human."

"can you...can you bring him back..?" you whisper.

ghost's shadow flickers and it falls silent for a moment before speaking again, "i could. but you don't want that."

you can't help but think you'll regret asking but you do anyway, "...why?"

"he's not the same anymore," it explains, "it's much kinder to simply leave him in the pits."

you're not sure how to take that. it doesn't answer any of your questions. what exactly are the pits? what happens in them? what is happening to phillip down there?

"ghost..." you take a small step back and you swear you see it's head cock to the side curiously, "what are you?"

"you can consider me a demon if you wish," it responded, taking a step forward to follow you.

your heart skips a beat, "but you're not."

"no," it answers with ease.

"so tell me what you are," you demand, growing tired of these mind games it's playing with you.

"i don't think your human mind can comprehend just what i am," it says.

"try me," you challenge, already mentally slapping yourself.

"no," it responds.

your temper flares, "just tell me, damn you! what the hell are you?"

suddenly, the shadow grows in size -- as do your eyes. you watch as it takes up more space in the room, that overpowering weight on your body making you wince. it makes the room feel so heavy, makes your bones ache to the marrow.

you're not sure how you know -- despite the fact it's not saying anything; you know you've made it very angry. your eyes lock onto his shadowy form, making out the horrible, unsettling images of eyeballs inside the darkness that flicker in and out of your vision.

nausea settles like a pit in your stomach and you double over, dropping to your hands and your knees to keep yourself from throwing up. your head throbs and aches, a ringing in your ears only makes the pain worse. it feels like your eyes are going to pop out of their sockets from the overwhelming pressure growing inside your skull.

"s-stop..." you manage to choke out before you slump against the floor.

then, all at once it's gone. you gasp for air once it finally feels like there's nothing coiling around your lungs and tears trickle down your cheeks. you're not sure if you're trembling from the pain or from the fear you just experienced.

you can't bring yourself to uncurl yourself from the ball you've found yourself in on the floor.

you're acutely aware that ghost hasn't left -- in fact, you can hear it's heavy footsteps on the creaky wooden floor as it approaches you. it kneels down, disturbing the air around you with the movement.

you feel a strange weight on your head and it takes your foggy mind a moment to realize that it's touching you. as if it had reached a hand out and was tenderly petting your head, consoling you.

a silent apology before it vanishes completely.

when you finally uncurl and look around, you see yet another strange, scorch mark on the ground where it had stood.

you realize instantly that those scorch marks are a manifestation of it's anger. pure, unbridled rage that leaves a physical mark on the ground where it stands.

you swallow thickly and close your eyes again, deciding that standing is much too hard for now.

do not repost to third party sites. reblogs okay!

[samaraxmorgan]

Your Roommate Sukuna

“That Time I Gave Him Covid”

Modern no curse AU, Sukuna X Reader

Synopsis: This housing crisis sure is no joke huh? Rent is just too expensive to live alone, so you put out a listing for a roommate and ended up living with none other than the tattooed bad boy Ryomen Sukuna! This is part of a series of drabbles and oneshots showing glimpses into you and Sukuna’s living situation!!

Contains: pure fluff, Sukuna makes you watch The Human Centipede but nothing is described in detail, pining at the end but he’s in denial

Word Count: 1.08k

Series Masterlist - My Full Masterlist

Look, a day off is nice, and a few days off could be a real treat, under just about any other circumstances. You’re sitting at the kitchen table, sipping coffee that you didn’t even need to add sugar to because the bitter taste can’t affect you when you literally can’t taste it.

You noticed the symptoms a couple hours ago, scratchy throat, can’t taste, can’t smell; you had an extra Covid test under the kitchen sink since you bought a two pack a couple months ago, and unsurprisingly you tested positive. And now you’re stuck in your little apartment for a week, trapped in the confined space with your oversized roommate who’s going to be just thrilled to hear the news.

He’s literally gonna kill me.

As if on cue, you could hear Sukuna’s footsteps thumping down the stairs, his eyes meeting yours as he turned the corner and a look of confusion spreading across his face.

“Don’t you have a job?”

You snort, oh he’s not gonna like this, “I’ve got bad news bud.”

“Don’t ever call me that again.” He shoots you a glare as walks into the kitchen, pulling a glass out of the cabinet.

You roll your eyes, a sheepish grin creeping at the corners of your lips as you prop your cheek onto the palm of your hand, “We have Covid.”

“Who’s we?” He doesn’t even look at you, his back facing you as he pulls a carton of milk out from the fridge and fills the glass.

Even though he can’t see it, you give him a quizzical look, “We literally live together? My germs are all over the place.”

He turns around, leaning his back against the kitchen counter and looking down at you in your seat with a nonchalant expression, “I’ve got a good immune system,” He brings the glass up to his lips and takes a sip, “I’m fine.”

You know he’s full of shit, cocky bastard can’t genuinely think he’s above getting sick, right? You look up at him dumbfounded as he casually sips his glass of milk, he’s got a completely blank expression.

When’s the last time we even bought milk? That has to have been sitting for a while now. Oh, oh wait…

Hah, yeah he’s so full of shit. He cocks a brow at the smirk you didn’t realize had grown across your face.

“What’s so funny, brat?”

“How’s the milk taste?”

He shrugs, clicking his tongue in his mouth, “Fine.”

“When did it expire?”

“It didn’t,” He raises the glass to his nose and smells it with no changes in his expression, he picks the carton up and turns his wrist to read the back of it, “It’s good ‘til-”

He stops himself short, his mouth dropping into a small surprised oh, you can’t even attempt to suppress the giggle that escapes you.

You let your arms slide down outstretched across the kitchen table, your cheek pressed against the smooth wood, “I guess we’re quarantine buddies.”

“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you.”

I figured as much.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Your face is buried in your hands, shielding your poor, absolutely tortured eyes from the TV. Eerie music with muffled screams and maniacal laughter emit from the speakers and fill the room as Sukuna outstretches his leg to reach your side of the couch, prodding at your arm with his foot.

“You’re not even watching.”

“This is horrible.”

“This is payback.”

You peek through your fingers, immediately wanting to gag at his disgusting movie choice. The Human Centipede, really? He’s watching it so casually, somehow managing to have the stomach to eat popcorn as well, albeit most of the popcorn has been tossed into your hair from when he caught you squeezing your eyes shut during the teeth pulling scene. Now that was brutal.

“Can we please watch something else? Anything?” You whine into your hands.

“I’ve got the DVD for Cannibal Holocaust.”

You let out an exasperated sigh, flopping your head backward onto the couch cushion.

It’s gonna be a long week.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

“Woman, how in god's name do I move?”

“You click where you want to go, and,” You lean forward and tap your finger onto your laptop's screen, “Click here.”

“That’s so fucking stupid.” He grumbles under his breath.

You roll your eyes but to be honest, you’re impressed he was actually willing to play one of your games. It seems the last few days of being stuck together have broken him down a bit, and now you’re leaning against his arm watching him attempt to maneuver around The Sims on your laptop.

Sukuna lets out a frustrated groan, “This game sucks, you can’t even kill people.”

You draw back in surprise, “Have you never played Sims before?”

He turns his head towards you, looking completely baffled that you’d even ask, “No? Obviously.”

Oh he’s in for a treat.

Within an hour he’s drowned 4 people, burned down someone’s mansion, got a call to come meet a child that he didn’t even know was his, and let out an absolutely delighted “Oh? What’s this?” when he found the tools to make prison bars. You can’t say you’re surprised by any means, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t amused.

You’re watching his eyes flicker around the screen, brows furrowed in concentration and his sharp canine digging into the side of his bottom lip as he oh so meticulously picks out the least comfortable looking beds for each little prison cell. You’ve been slowly slouching against his side more and more over the last hour, and he either hasn’t noticed or is too invested in his mass murder scenarios to even care as sickly fatigue has your head resting on his shoulder and your eyelids feeling too heavy to keep open.

Little do you know, he’s well aware of your weight pressing into him; but, he’s willing to let it slide this time, deciding that you’ve pleased him enough for him to hold back from pushing your sleepy body onto the ground. Even though it would be hilarious to see the look on your face when you wake up to your back flopping onto the plush rug beneath you, and even funnier to watch you try to slap at him as he holds both of your wrists in one hand, he’s willing to spare you just this once, although he couldn’t possibly fathom the reason why.

It’s not because he’s growing a soft spot for you, no, because that would be ridiculous.

A/N: I wasn’t planning to start with this one BUT I couldn’t stop thinking about this scenario so I guess we get him sick immediately asakjjaan Dividers by @adornedwithlight

Let me know if you want to be added to a taglist!!

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

So as we know sharks are very territorial and sometimes little attention whores, they tend to love divers and get territorial over them with other sharks. So I was wondering if Price ever gets protective or territorial over remora reader with the others, or if he feels miffed when she spends time with the others more than him? If some part of him likes her cleaning him and only him?

using this as a follow up to shark mer Price being a territorial bastard >:)

to recap: Price is super protective over you--you're his territory--but you spending time with the Ghost, Gaz, and Soap doesn't bother him because they're his territory too.

however this does not extend to anyone outside the 141. this is a problem because you're naturally curious. because you're a remora mer, right?

and way too friendly for your own good. and extra extra prone to lapsing into a fawn response instead of a fight or flight response.

so you can't really blame Price for being kind of overprotective.

when he's not around, you can bet you're juuuuust dumb enough to swim right up to, say, a diver. or even the small diving boats humans putter around in near the reef.

you might meet a friendly human diver like perhaps Alex Keller (◕▿◕✿)

who for sure doesn't mind your poking and prodding and general lack of boundaries.

he's totally chill about it. actually he's into it. he loves your curiosity! swimming with mer is rare. being this close to one is a dream.

you're basically doing this (video).

you're idly aware that he's examining you as you're examining him, but it doesn't stop you from checking out his suit, his tank, his legs--weird plastic fin-feet he's got--you'd even pull his goggles right off his face if he's not careful.

you have more curiosity than sense. so does he.

because the moment Price sees you, he immediately pushes his way into the middle of this little... mutual exploration you're allowing to happen.

more accurately, he snatches you away. diver Alex is lucky if he escapes with a glare instead of a warning bite.

you, meanwhile, are fucking grounded.

plead ignorance if you want, but you know it's against the rules to do what you did.

you were sort of hoping you could avoid punishment by acting cute. or by not getting caught in the first place. idiot.

no dice. Price takes you straight back to his cave--and you are to stay there. you'd better stay put on your own free will, too. Price isn't above tying you up. he knows Gaz will feed you anyway.

and Gaz is the only one allowed in. if he's good.

it sucks for everyone when you're grounded. Soap is bored and horny out of his mind. Ghost says nothing, but he conspicuously moves his usual day-sleeping spot closer to the entrance of the cave.

how long can you expect it to last? you're not sure. maybe until Price isn't fuming at the thought of you getting snatched up like a goldfish in an aquarium net.

more mer au / more Price / masterlist

[nighttimealone]

Cw: Nsfw (Wraith!Simon, humping, secret public play with reader receiving oral)

You accidentally adopted a wraith last year on Halloween, bumpem into his invisible form when you’re on your way home, and now he’s been with you almost a year.

“Simon?” you just woke up, standing absentmindedly as you wait for your morning tea to steep, and the sudden chill sending down your spine indicates his presence. After having him with you for a long time, you’re able to sense him when he’s approaching, even though he chooses to be cloaked now. He does say a word, nor does he shows his form, but you can feel a pair of hands holding onto your hips, and the obvious hardness prodding against the plumpness of your ass. The approving hum when you support yourself to the countertop with your arms, and the growls beside your ears as he rocks his hips furiously against your clothed pussy lips, seeking frictions to deal with his early morning horniness of seeing you in your office skirt and semi-transparent tights. “Simon, stop…ngh…!” You chastise him, mind telling to squirm out of his grip yet all you do is sticking your ass out further, giving him more access to glide that thick cock along your puffy folds, and when his hand slide down to give your clit—still swollen from last night because he’s feeling more energetic as the Halloween’s closer— a wicked flick, you’re tumble over the edge, legs failing to hold up and support by his arms, thighs trembling and eyes unfocused, until the time he gives a final few humps and comes on your tights, you eventually regain your balance and shoot him a glance. Well, you can’t see him now, but you stare straight into his eyes cause you know him to well, that you know where his eyes are although he’s invisible. You guess he’s not in the mood of showing himself for some reason—probably still being a bit broody from waking up early—but how dare him still be grumpy when he literally just came on your stockings and ruin yet another pair before you need to go out and work? “You’re causing my trouble again.”

But the bastard just walks away with a huff of laughter still lingering in the air.

Simon follows you to your office. He’s still invisible to other people, but showing true form to you now. You can see him walking around in the office, towering height allows you to see him wherever he goes. He’ll stroll inside the office occasionally, maybe spilling one of your colleagues’ coffee after they tried to flirt with you, and watch them flustered and confused about how the cup fell without any force? You can see the slight smirk ghosting on Simon’s lips while he enjoys the show. It’s the colleague’s fault, though. Dare to hit on you even after you show them the “S.R.” bounding mark imprinted on your wrist, which you always explain as a tattoo of your partner’s initials. They’re lucky that he doesn’t show up at their home in night and haunt their dreams.

But His favorite thing to do is definitely sneak under your desk, ducking his head in your skirt and tear a slit on your tights, exposing your pussy and start lapping at it lazily. You kick him softly, yet you can’t open your mouth and threaten him, or it’ll be your moans slipping out and alerting the entire office. Your hands on the keyboard wobbles, typing slowly with another hand covering your mouth, pretending there isn’t a wraith of a man burying himself in your pussy, huffing and groaning out at the alluring scent, tongue pressed flat against your entrance and lick a long stripe that makes your eyes snap closed immediately, muffling all your cries with your palm, hoping your coworkers wouldn’t come closer to check on you when they glance at you and spot you squirming on your seat with your pink cheeks hinting the bliss you’re feeling. Simon’s long tongue nudge playfully at your clit, intend to get any drop of those juices out of your cunt before the clock hits 5. “Don’t blame me, princess. You have me stuck with you in this bloody office, gonna find some fun for myself.” His voice rings in your mind, as if it’s sent directly to it, never stops pushing his tongue inside your tight and warm cunt and press at the spongy spots, and get you squirting on his face just as the hour hand points towards 5.

You bury your face in your arms, resting on the desk briefly the moment you drench Simon in your juices. But he’s already pulling you up, and you so your best to walk straight while ignoring others’ questioning gaze. The wraith you owned is looking forward to night to feast on you the rest of the evening, and as his responsible ‘owner’, guess you’ll have to give him a good ride.

[just-some-user-hunny]

Platonic yandere Rhaenyra as your mother...

~ The moment she laid eyes upon you, she helplessly fell in love. All the anger and shock towards Daemon took a backseat to her emotions the moment she saw you- her breath stuttering in her throat as her own amethyst eyes settled upon the wailing girl in the mad prince's arms. No woman is keen upon the idea of their other half returning with a child that they've had behind their back, but the sight of a girl- a daughter, for her, settled her decision at once. It's unlikely for her to take out her frustrations out on you, and something about your tearful little face and upset cries for your mother made her want to take you into her arms at once to soothe you. She didn't care at all about you being a bastard, all she could see was a daughter. Hers.

~ Rhaenyra would spoil you. Gifting you dresses and jewellery and books and fine silk threads, and always wearing an adoring twinkle in her eyes whenever she sees you. Rhaenyra herself loves her precious gems and fine luxurious dresses, and now with her own little girl, you bet you're getting spoiled. She'd also love seeing her dear boys get along with you, further fueling her delusions that you're her own child. She'll call her 'my dearest love' and 'sweet girl' , a cautious protective arm always within reaching distance of you if things get heated at the dining table during rowdy family dinners.

~ she's often the one to smoothe your anger and sadness over when it comes to your conflict with Daemon, your father. He is always the one to dish out punishments and restrictions, and in his stead, she'll be the one to lather you with comfort and alternatives. As a child she'd carry you in her arms, wiping away your tearfulness and promising you a ride with Syrax after Daemon forbids you from riding your own dragon for a week. That dynamic fits well with them. Essentially, Daemon is The bad cop, and she is the good cop.

~ as a child, you were very against this woman mothering you when you missed your one mother at home. However you may eventually grow soft to Rhaenyra, even if it's unintentionally done. She's so attentive and gentle towards you, it's hard not to seek out her comfort- even if most of it is dismissive and performative to keep you calm. She'd happily braid your hair if you wish to go riding upon horse or dragon-back, and always with a smile upon her face.

~ Rhaenyra soothing you whenever you fights with her father, Daemon. She is firm, but gentle, the perfect salve to Daemons cruelty and coldness. He has always stood strong and confident, and the powerlessness you'd feel around him would both infuriate you, and make you feel hopeless. Rhaenyra is always there for the aftermath, to distract you from the sadness brewing in your chest. Squeezing your hand beneath the table as you all eat your meals together, your presence always insisted upon by Viserys and Daemon.

~ she'd be a fiercely protective mother. As you grow older, transitioning from her little girl to a young woman, she'd be very against any arranged marriages. If she could, she'd keep you at home forever, single and happy- or free to love whoever you like as long as they are approved by her and Daemon and that you remain at home with them.

Thankfully, due to your bastard heritage, you have no political duty to marry, and are therefore free from being wed for gain. (Sure, you'll never seat the iron throne, but as a woman in those times everything was cut-throat. You may as well have a taste of freedom)

~ Syrax is just as doting. You're her riders little girl, and that maternal feeling would come through both Rhaenary, and syrax. The large golden dragon will chirp and purr in your presence, bowing her head to sniff and gently prod at you- like a doting mother.

"Darling, are you joining us for lunch?"

"For the afternoon".

Rhae smiled warmly, watching you pet Syrax- who gazed upon the princess with passive golden eyes. Crooning gently into your touch, before retreating softly. Rhaenyra approaches soon after- peeling her riding gloves off before taking your face within the cradle of your palms and kissing your brow. 1...2...3, a mantra of soft kisses laid upon your face before she steps back to look at you. Her smile is genuine and warm.

~ As the dance of the dragon approaches, the more protective and demanding she becomes. Suddenly your dragon riding time is limited, especially after Luke's death :( the moment you even suggested leaving upon dragon-back to get some fresh air in the clouds she snaps almost tearfully, composing herself shortly afterwards, and then sending you outside upon the balcony with a guard. A pleading look in her eyes begging you not to disobey her, for her sake, please. She cannot lose you as well.

~ She becomes especially paranoid about team green snatching you away, as both teams are obsessed with keeping you on their sides amidst the approach of war. The amount of kingsguard that stand position outside your chambers every night, hell, even accompanying you around the castle increases. You seldom have a moment to yourself without a lady in waiting heel-to-heel with you, or a towering armoured knight breathing down your neck.

Even with Daemon gone, you're still trapped within the castle.

~ Bastard!princess reader wants nothing to do with this war, and although she may have created a connection to Rhaenyra and Jace and her twin sisters, she may see this as an opportunity to finally leave. Escape would be difficult, near impossible, but not out of the question. You still have your dragon at your call, so you may find a way to slip away and find a way to get to your dragon to escape.

Everyone would go mad however, almost putting a pause on the conflict to go out and find you. Be warned that Daemon and Rhaenyra would immediately go seek your hometown and mother and brothers (that is, if they are still alive), so you'd have to be smart with slipping from their grasps.

~ To the end Rhaenyra will hold onto you dearly like her life-line, committed to being your mother, regardless of your feelings or circumstance. Even as she is burnt, she will not cry or scream- only thinking of everything that she has lost. How she failed you, and everyone she ever held close.

(under the scenario that in the end you did leave and vanish, or worse, got killed in the conflict).

[endless-ineffabilities]

chemical override (nocturnal file) 18+

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: oh, no! What is this? Did I let my imagination get the better of me again? To those of you asking for smut, this is one way we can satisfy those desires. Oh, and no taglist for this file - whoever finds it, finds it. It'll be our (and Ewan's!) little secret.

previous chapter ▪︎ series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

Aemond's patience is sorely being tested.

The battle is on the morrow, and the Blackwood bitch refuses to relent useful intelligence on the enemy's doings.

Aemond had captured her as a prize of war, and kept her in the dungeons of the Red Keep. He would visit her every so often, trying to get her to break, to see her relentlessly vexing spirits dimmed.

But to no avail. She is as stubborn as her entire, rotten lot. This bastard daughter of House Blackwood, a formidable swordswoman in her own right, would be someone whom Aemond might admire, if the circumstances were different.

If he did not hate her with every fibre of his being.

It is callous, almost desperate. He did not know of his precise aim when he asked the guards to deposit her in his chambers.

Yet here she is.

Hair matted and skin decorated with grime and mud and dried blood. The blood isn't even hers - she had clawed and fought tooth and nail when Aemond attempted to subdue her. And he did. But it feels as if he had gained nothing out of it.

Only the presence of this rough and foul-mouthed bastard girl, a sorry excuse for a lady.

If only she did not possess a fire that Aemond hadn't seen before in anyone else. If only she wasn't so fucking beautiful.

"Do you plan to question me some more, One-Eye? Or are you finally going to kill me?"

With those words, Aemond realises that he never planned to kill her. Nor does he ever wish to. She is his prize, after all.

And his prize throws him off guard with another query, "Or perhaps... you would do away with all this pretense and fuck me like your whore?"

"What the fuck did you just say to me?" Aemond lunges forward and grips her jaw. She only smirks, as if enjoying it, "I've seen the way you look at me, One-Eye. You'd sooner bed me than get rid of me, admit it."

He towers over her figure, imposing and formidable, and yet it is she that has the upper hand. He feels unsure for once. Of what is to happen next. Of his own compromised desires.

So she decides for him, when she rises on her tiptoes and presses her warm mouth to his.

It feels wretched. It is revolting, kissing the enemy, and yet Aemond finds himself leaning closer. He drags her to his bed and pushes her down atop the sheets. She flops like a rag doll, groaning in protest, but then spreads her legs wide open, inviting him in.

"Fuck you, bastard," he licks a stripe down her neck, his actions negating his words, "You are nothing to me."

"By all means, One-Eye," she only purrs, "fuck me."

That is all he needs. He rips off all trace of clothing from their wanting bodies. Positioning himself, he torments her with his hardened cock prodding at her wet cunny.

With an animalistic growl of both rage and surrender, he thrusts inside, and she feels him deep in the warmth of her cunt. His balls smack against the skin of her arse, and again when he slides out and back in. All the way in.

"Gods, One-Eye," she traces the scar on his cheekbone with one delicate finger, the motion gentle and almost foreign, "you're not letting me go after this, are you?"

"Never," he rasps, connecting his lips against hers, resuming his thrusting. "Uhhhhh, fuck, fuck," he moans against her parted mouth, his sounds turning into hissing when she resorts to digging her nails into his back as he slams his cock in roughly, right to the hilt.

"What will... become of... me, hmm?" she asks, in between panting. Their bodies grow sweaty, glistening in the candlelight. The lewd sounds of his cock fucking her aching pussy is like music to his ears. He cradles her face with one hand, and responds, "You will be mine. You are mine."

"I can't be, now, can I? You're still in New York," she says.

What did she say? Aemond startles, sitting back on his heels. With his cock still buried inside her, she follows suit so she sits on top of him. He nearly loses his mind when she gazes at him, biting her lip in the most lustful manner.

"I've never ridden a dragon before," she says, slowly gliding her pussy up and down his cock. "You feel so good, baby."

"B-baby?" Aemond does not understand the moniker. Is it customary among the Blackwoods to call a lover such? What a strange thing. And what did she mention before? What of this New Ark?

"I wish you were with me," she moans, bouncing on top of him, pressing her breasts against his face. Milking his cock like her life depends on it, and it just might. This Blackwood bastard would have leverage if she had dragonseed in her belly.

"I am with you," he breathes, before kissing her again, but she quickly pulls away.

"No you aren't, Ewan," she protests. "You're away."

Ewan?

"Ewan!" he hears someone call out. "Ewan, we yelled cut a while ago!"

Aemond - Ewan - blinks against an onslaught of bright light. The set is illuminated once more. He sees you still sitting on top of him, grinning impishly. But you're not fully naked as he thought - you wear pasties on your breasts in the same shade of your skin, as well as matching underwear. He looks down at this cock, and sees it covered in some fitted piece of cloth.

"Where are we, Blackwood?"

You only giggle lightly at his confusion, "Ewan, baby, are you still in character?"

"My... my name is Aemond."

"Oh, baby," you press your forehead to his, "of course it is. My Aemond."

"That was beautiful, you two," a woman approaches them, "All in all, a perfect take."

He hears himself speak, but he doesn't fully understand what he means, "It's easy because we are in love in real life, I suppose."

The Blackwood girl - you - shuffle over to the edge of the bed, and a woman comes forward and uses some brush on your face.

This is not the Red Keep. He is not Aemond?

He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to knock some sense into himself. When he opens them again, he finds himself transported in what looks like your hotel room in LA.

"Ewan," he hears you whisper. He looks down and the both of you are naked under the sheets, cuddling each other. He feels lighter now, more content. The sensation that he no longer possesses his long, silver hair washes over him.

Because he is Ewan, his identity sliding back into place like a puzzle piece.

And you're his love.

You place a kiss on his chest, then the crook of his neck, and finally, his lips.

"I want you," your words come so sweetly, so faint, and yet it sends shivers down his spine.

He feels your soft touch gliding against his skin, your fingers tracing the contours of his abs, then down, down, to his erect...

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Ewan's eyes fly open. He looks around the room frantically, trying to right himself and return to full consciousness.

He's in his hotel room in New York. The digital clock reads 4:40 AM. This would be the day of his meeting, and it's way too early to be awake.

That dream. Oh, fuck, that dream.

It has rendered him warm all over, covered in a sheen of sweat. He feels something straining under the covers. Under his boxers. Some thing to deal with.

A remnant of the dream, and of you.

Of you. It's depraved, and he feels like a hypersexual teenage boy. But it wouldn't be the first time. He reaches for his phone and finds his favourite picture of you.

The screen illuminates his face in the darkness. His other hand shamelessly creeps its way in the shadows, down below.

And with heavy-lidded eyes, and a yearning heart and body, he dreams.

soooo, I think we all know what he did at the end 😉

I know this is not direct, full-on, real-person smut (I'm still on the fence about that) but whatever works, eh?

thanks for participating in our secret sessions! See you for part five of the series <3

[sunni-stuff]

CEO!Price and his darling desk support assistant ☀️

☀️tags: NSFW/AFAB

You were given a high position from the get-go; even though you had no experience in whatsoever in the department you were placed in. You never knew why, only that Price said he urgently needed someone to help with his massive workload.

The job was easy enough, paid great, and Price treated you well. All you had to do was what you were told. The days often consist with you on your knees, hands wrapped gently on Price's massive thighs, mouth working to take all of his meaty cock down your throat while he focused on the stack of papers on his desk.

Your throat used to burn from the stretch of his length, but now, you were used to it after working there for a couple of months and at this point you could tell when Price needed to take a load off. Especially after he deals with a stubborn client, your poor boss wore a deep scowl, cigar place in between his lips as he sat at his desk angrily, leg shaking rapidly.

What a sight when he was like this. Price's expensive suit seemed to mold against his very skin. Muscles bulging against the seams, brows furrowed, and heated swears muttered under his breath.

Nothing anyone did could brighten his mood, Johnny's charm fell flat, Simon outright refused to get involved, and Kyle, who used to have your position until he was promoted, was too busy to help.

You were immediately called to Price's office, finding him already in the motion of unzipping his pants, a familiar routine the two of you performed. "You called, sir?" You said with a coy tilt of your head.

"Don't play games dove, come 'ere." Price growls out, his gaze searing hot, almost as if it could burn your clothes off.

You didn't need to be told twice, closing his door behind you and sliding off your panties to avoid Price ripping them off during your service. The moment you drew close, his hands descended onto your hips, hoisting you onto his wide lap.

Price fisted his cock, coating his length in precum then rubbing his tip against your sodden folds. You were already wet for him, how could you not? Despite the circumstance of your job; Price was aged by things beyond your knowledge but still undeniably attractive, his hardened chestnut eyes never leaves your form when your around. He's always undressing you with them, looking at you so lustfully that it was hard not to feel aroused.

"Always ready for me." Price mutters hoarsely, taking his time to push you down onto his aching shaft.

Your body shakes, the familiar stretch of his length parting your walls causing you to suck in air. He's massive; taking up space inside you as if he was meant to be there. You try to adjust yourself as quickly as possibly, hands finding perch on his shoulders, hips meeting his.

At first, Price seems like a patient man taking his time to really savor what's in front of him, but once he gets what he wants, he becomes insatiable.

Price starts off slow, thrusting gently, watching where the two of you are connected, biting down on his lip hungrily. Price never gets tired of seeing your puffy pussy lips devour his cock with such ease. It doesn't take him long to pick up pace, gripping your hips tightly, nails tearing your blouse.

Your body felt like a furnace set ablaze in the harshest of winter, the hotness of his body suffocating you despite being on top. You were unable to stop the breathy moan, leaving your lips, the head of his cock prodding at your cervix making you squeal out.

"The whole office will hear you." Price taunted against your skin, kissing and biting at the skin possessively, proudly watching your mouth fall open with pleasure.

You couldn't respond, and Price knew this.

He was an arrogant bastard; proudly fucking you in his office where the walls were thin and anyone walking by could see you split open on his sex.

Price lifts you up slightly, then slamming you back down onto him. Your toes curl and your walls clench around him greedily upon feeling him enter once more. He treats you like a mere doll for his amusement yet pays you handsomely just to get fucked day in and day out.

Not that you were complaining. It beats a regular 9 to 5.

"Mr. Price." You whined, angling your head for a kiss, eyes wide and pleading.

How could he resist when you're so compliant?

Price clicks his teeth, leaning down and kissing you feverishly, forcing your lips apart to taste you even further. He doesn't let up, jerking forward brutally, beginning his new savage pace, leaving you breathless as he chases his own high.

You're close too, being able to keep up with Price and his libido despite being used so often. Just as you were about to reach your peak, the sound of the door opening caught your attention, yet Price didn't stop. He simply looks up, seeing Simon stand there unfazed, fresh files in hand.

"Meeting in five." He states plainly, glancing over you, not caring about your current predicament.

Simon's words make Price's anger rise once more. He grumbles, rolling his eyes and pulling out of you swiftly, sitting you on his desk while ignoring your sweet pleas for him to continue.

"How long is it?" Price asks, tucking his semi-hard cock away, fixing himself up to look presentable.

"Two hours, possibly longer with what their asking for." Simon says, giving the papers a quick look over before handing it over to Price who looks as if he's about to snap.

"Fine, take care of her for me. It's part of your job now." Price gestures to you, sitting pretty, all whiney and pouty.

Simon raises a brow, turning to protest, but Price had already side-stepped him, leaving the two of you alone.

You look over at Simon, smirking mockingly, echoing Price's command, using your superiors' real name so carelessly. "Yeah, Simon, it's part of your job."

Simon remains silent for a moment, coldly sizing you up. Suddenly he steps forward and grabbing your face roughly, forcing you to look up at him and all of his dark eyes glaring down at you. "I ain't the old man, dollface. You'll see the difference soon enough."

Not proofread/kinda rushed

[the-californicationist]

Cali's Kinktober: Day 07

Kinktober Masterlist ad captandum vulgus - "to captivate the masses" TF141 x f!reader Kinks > glory hole, anal virginity, gangbang Full tags on AO3 - MDNI - Read at your own risk.

Your four boyfriends are overrun by stress. Hunting terrorists is a full-time job, so you take matters into your own hands to help them blow off some steam.

Sorry I'm late! Working on catching up right now. Y’all ever watched those Czech Fantasy glory hole videos? Anyway, can't get enough of those, so here's this.

The soft, silicone cock in your mouth was muffling the cries coming from deep in your chest as you felt two thick fingers pry their way into your cunt. You were laying on your back inside the dark, empty void of one of the weapons crates in the warehouse on base, the top half of your body concealed inside of the wooden box, and your lower half sticking out of a hole in the side, naked and exposed to the chilly air. Your legs were tied up, ankles hooked up to the metal storage shelf racks, thighs spread open, forcing your pussy lips to splay wide and wet and ready for someone’s mouth and fingers and prick. 

The voices outside of the crate were muffled, but you could just barely make out their words. 

“Pretty cunt on offer, huh? Free for any bastard to come and take,” you heard your lieutenant’s dark chuckle as he pushed his fingers even further inside of you, curling them to shove and prod against the pliant spot that made you scream. 

“Wha’s all this, then?” Kyle’s voice came through from the side of your box as he made his way over to where Simon was hard at work, making your hips writhe and hump his hand. 

“Our perfect little slut…” You heard him cruelly spit onto your clit, and you felt it, warm and slick, slip across your skin, “Got all set up for us. Wanted to welcome us home from our mission.”

“Needy slag, innit she?” John purred, and you felt his hand join Simon’s, pulling at your plump ass cheek to make your holes stretch and gape. 

“Lemme go first, LT. I cannae wait any longer,” Johnny begged. 

“Alrigh’, Johnny,” Simon pulled away from you, “But, don’t be too rough with her. We all want a turn, mate.”

You immediately felt a familiar mouth seal itself across your clit, sucking up Simon’s hot spit and your sticky precome all in one savage gulp. You’d know that tongue anywhere. Johnny ate you in the most blindingly erotic way. You felt like he was consuming you, inside and out. You didn’t know what was lip or tongue or finger, but he used them in symphonic unison to drag you, writhing and screaming, into an orgasm. But, your Scot was as cruel as his masked friend, and he didn’t care if you were in the throes of a hard come; he would double down, shoving his tongue down your hole and slurping your gifts into his throat. 

Then, he pulled away, leaving you with nothing, curling your hips to reach for him, until –

“Oh, shite. Tha’s it, right there. Unghh…” Johnny groaned. 

He was shoving his fat, curved cock into you, slow and steady, scraping his head on those same sensitive spots Simon had been torturing with his fingertips. Johnny still played with your clit as he rammed himself into you, stretching you, pulling you apart at the seams, making you feel like you were being stuffed beyond your limit. 

You wanted to cry out, to tell him to slow down, but you couldn’t. The gag would only let you scream against it and swallow your hot, thick drool as your mind began to burn away to a blank nothingness. 

He fucked you so hard that the box creaked, over and over, the wood crying out the same as you, whining from being overused. 

Then, you felt him dig deeper inside of you, dropping load after load of his come into your hole, deep enough that you could feel it sliding around in your soft channel, foaming and hot like milk in coffee, creamy and smooth. Two loving slaps against your ass as he slid out of you were the only thanks you got before you felt the next man at your hole. 

You couldn’t tell, at first, which one of your boyfriends was having his way with you this time, until you realized how long it was taking him to slide his entire length into you. Kyle’s prick always preferred a long drive in and a long retreat back out. He loved it when you stroked his entire length with your hands clasped together around him, soaked in lube and slowly massaging him from tip to root, and he used your pussy in much the same way. It was hypnotic, and when he did finally squeeze himself all the way to his base, it made it hard for you to take a breath. 

Usually, he was Mr. Foreplay. He’d spend twenty minutes on your tits alone, much less fondling your wet little hole. He loved getting you screaming for him before he even had himself out of his pants, but today, something was different. It was as if the box allowed him to be selfish. He didn’t care about your pleasure this time. He just wanted to take and take and take. 

So, he did. He stroked himself with your quim like you were his toy. You were just a warm, wet fleshlight, there to be used and nothing more. You were made to take his load, nothing more. The feeling of him being so unabashedly greedy was electrifying. His cock was so mean to you, ignoring your pulsing, writhing signals and blowing past your clenching quivers. In and in and in… out and out and out… that was all you knew. He had wiped your mind clean. 

Then, the final time he shoved himself in, he stayed there, grinding into you, humping and thrusting at a punishing pace, milking himself with your gooey textures and grunting like an animal as his hands clutched the corners of the box, blocking out the light from where his palms dug into the pine. 

You were so close to coming, but right when you began to tense up, he felt you, and he came to a sudden halt. He was teasing you. You tried to fuck him back, pushing your hips in every direction, working to fit his thick base back inside you, but he stopped you, gripping your body in his huge hands and holding you still.

Once you stopped fighting him, frustrated by the futility of it all, he watched your muscles melt back into submission, and he rewarded you with slippery, firm strokes along the hardened body of your clit, rubbing it affectionately like a well-heeled pet. It was not enough to bring your orgasm back to the surface, but instead, it caused your pleasure to roil and turn inside of your core like an unfed beast, pouting for its dinner. 

“Too greedy, babes,” he laughed at you with a tinge of ridicule, knowing the others were watching, “You only come when I want you to come.”

Kyle returned to his long, aching strokes, working his cock like the piston of a machine, unwavering in its rhythmic pattern or its ferocious power. Then, just as his pacing increased, he pinched your clithead between his knuckles, bringing tears to your eyes. In the middle of the most intense pleasure you’d ever been given, he had made you deal with this sharp agony, and your mind could not handle both at once. So, you lost your orgasm, but he enjoyed his. 

You sobbed as you felt his prick jerking inside of you, spitting fiery hot ropes of his come all over your walls and womb, filling you deeply just like Johnny. 

You expected him to pull out, and you were already grumbling about it in your head, silently bratty and plotting your revenge. But, he didn’t. He’d come in you and yet he was still seated inside, sealed like a sword in its sheath. The same fingers that had been so malicious were now back to their delicate, coaxing affection. He was pressing soft circles around your clit, picking up speed when he felt you pulse around the softening body of his dick. 

You were going to come, and you knew you were going to come hard. 

“Tha’s it. Good girls get rewards, innit that right, Cap?” 

John hummed, obviously watching your body sing for its conductor. 

The pressure within you built and built, and you were having trouble breathing. You wanted to cry out, but the gag was in your way, and you had to keep swallowing around it, stuck in a loop of feeling full in both ends of your body. 

Just as you were about to crash into bliss, Kyle ripped himself from you, and at the same time, your pussy beared down, thinking it had something hard to press against. But, you were empty, and so all of that force sent the come that you had been keeping warm in your belly squirting out of your hole and onto the floor. Sliding out of your cunt, it dripped down your ass cheek and pooled on the ground, making you look every bit the freeuse slut that you knew you were. 

“My, my…” Price’s dark growl commented, “Filled her to the brim, didn’t you, Sergeant? Good lad.”

You could feel John playing with the stream of milky come that was oozing out of your hole, spreading it around. He scooped it onto his fingers and began to shove it back into your pussy, fucking you with his middle and ring fingers gently at first, and then not at all. He was fucking you on his hand hard enough to shake the box, and you knew he could make you squirt. He loved it. He didn’t care how overstimulated you were; he would keep pushing your buttons over and over, watching you spray your liquid joy all over him and you and whatever else was in the way. 

You twisted, trying to escape him, but he was too strong. 

“C’mon, love. Come for me. I wanna see it.”

You’d just come from Kyle’s big dick, but Price didn’t give a damn. He yanked another one from you, making you feel as if you were wetting yourself, pressing deep enough and firm enough to force your pussy to squirt all over his palm. Your whole body seized, unable to control the movements he was putting you through. You felt like his helpless puppet, stuck on his hand and thanking him for it. 

Price left you there, your ankles hanging limply in their ties where you’d stuck your feet in them, your legs trembling like a fawn, shaking and shining from your come, your body begging for more and your mind too fuck-drunk to protest. 

Then, he was back. You knew it was him because you always struggled to take his girthy cock. The head was immense and hard like a fist. It bullied its way into your cunt, using your other boyfriends’ come as lube. Even so, he had to retreat over and over, whetting himself repeatedly, just so that he could make progress. He stretched you so far that it ached like a bruise, and your pussy, already primed to come for him, started up again, making you tense and squeeze and roll and spread yourself for him, opening wide like a whore, like he paid you for it. 

“Fuck, I willnae ever get tired of watchin’ how he makes her do that. Struggle on that cock, bonnie. Your man loves it when you fight, don’t he?”

“Yeah, I fuckin’ do,” Price agreed, the tips of his fingers held tight together and slapping sharply on your clit and mons, stinging your flesh as he fucked you deeper and deeper. 

Someone else’s fingers started to grope your thighs and ass, gripping you hard and trailing wet kisses across your skin. You felt your body melting into his touch, such a stark contrast from John’s lustful torment. When his mouth dragged its way up your thigh, his nose bumped your calf, and you knew it was Simon, your Ghost. He was still in his mask, and you could feel the folds of it against the bridge of his nose, scrunched up to let him use his mouth on you. 

Simon played with you while Price stuffed you full of cock, his captain set on pounding your pussy until it was hot from his work. You felt Simon’s fingertip dip into the tight hole of your ass, testing your leniency. He’d been begging you for weeks to let him try anal, but you had told him that he was too big. Now, he saw his chance. His finger sank deeper, down to the first knuckle, and he made firm circles around the rim, massaging you open, getting you ready for him. 

Price held you around the waist, both of his thumbs pressing down into your womb, taking away any remaining space inside of your stuffed cunt, making you feel every single ridge and vein on his prick. It made you want to come, and he knew you were about to explode. 

“I know what you want, love. Take it. C’mon, make me come. Make this fuckin’ pussy grab my cock,” Price talked you through each suffocating wave of your orgasm, barking orders like you were one of his men, knowing you could follow them like he’d trained you to. 

You wanted him to come with you, to fill you up with his soft seed, but he didn’t. He pulled out and then stuck just the tip of his dick inside of your asshole, letting his spend shoot through your forbidden hole, lubing you up for his lieutenant. 

“There you go, Riley. Should do the job, aye?”

“Yes, sir. Cheers, mate.”

No sooner was Price gone from you than Simon had taken his place, settling his dick on top of your pussy and dragging it through your slick skin, letting your lips lick him wet. He teased you with his hard length, using his dick like a toy, jerking his shaft so that his head would vibrate against your clit, making you squirm beneath his touch. 

“Deep breath, princess,” he murmured, just loud enough for you to hear, taking two fingers of your pussy’s sticky fluids and smearing them across your asshole. 

His pet name for you sent butterflies through your stomach. He only used it on special occasions, and for him to use it now, when you were hidden away and splayed open, vulnerable as you’d ever been, made your head swim. He was really going to take your asshole right here in the warehouse, shamelessly taking your untouched hole in front of your other lovers, claiming it for himself. 

The press of his head was enough to make your blood rush through your body and head for your core. You felt dizzy. He pushed forward gently, going so slowly that it didn’t seem as if he was even moving in you, using his head to kiss your tight muscles until your body relented, allowing him through. Then, you felt him spread your walls apart, making contact with Price’s come and using it to ease his path. 

It made you feel full in a new way. You were familiar with fingers and tongues invading your space, but having Simon’s heavy cock there gave you a whole different kind of experience. You were so sensitive, and what you thought would be painful or upsetting was actually warping itself into a wild, unbridled kind of pleasure. It was like a scalding hot bath that, once you got used to the heat, made you dissolve into the delicate warmth of it like fine sugar. 

“Mnghff-fuck,” Simon groaned roughly, “Tha’s it, baby. Relax for me just like that.”

Another pair of hands began to play with your pussy, two fingers at your clit, two inside your cunt, and Simon rutting himself steadily into your asshole. 

“Takin’ you so well, LT. Didnae think it’d fit.”

“She’s perfect, Johnny. Just wait until you try her arse. Fuckin’ heaven.”

You felt Johnny’s mouth on your clit as another man finger-fucked your pussy, and he sucked greedily on your overstimulated clit, swollen and sore from all the attention. But, he didn’t hear your protests, and he simply suckled away, licking you and using his jaw to spread your folds so he could use his tongue to reach for more of your taste. 

Simon had reached his root, shoving his damp curls against your core, and now he began to slowly and shallowly fuck you, worried that more would be too much for you to handle. You wanted to tell him you needed more, wanted to scream for him to bury himself in you, to fuck your asshole like he would your pussy. But, he didn’t. He was careful, deliberate, and you could feel the shudder of his body from just how hard he was holding himself back. 

“Bloody fuckin’ hell,” Kyle’s deep voice came through a smile. You could tell he was pleased by something, “You should feel her cunt, mate. She’s lovin’ this.”

He was the one fucking you on his hand, and all of your excitement was obvious from your pulsing need. 

“I can feel her,” Simon grunted, overwhelmed by the knowledge that you were indeed enjoying your ass being invaded by his throbbing rod.

His trembling was getting progressively worse, and you felt it in his hands as he grasped your thighs. He kept readjusting his grip, but you knew that his hands were shaking, the tremors of his restraint exacerbating his ability to hold his own pleasure at bay. He hissed as you started to come from Johnny’s mouth,

“So fuckin’ tight, princess. Fuck!”

You wanted to bring him with you into the swirling mesmerism of bliss, so you stayed tight, using your weak muscles to squeeze him as much as you could, imagining your holes like soft, wet fists, grasping at his tool and trying to use him to work yourself into a high, vicious fever. 

You could feel the fabric of his mask as Simon leaned his forehead against your leg, the heat from his panting breaths, his exhaustion breaking your heart. You promised yourself in your heart that, as soon as you were out of this box and fully recovered, you’d show him how well you could take him. He didn’t need to temper his passion. 

The only time you got a glimpse at his true hunger was right as he started to come. His hips jerked forward, as if he was shoved, and he thrust his cock far into your asshole, spreading his slick cream as deep as he could reach. Johnny had stepped back, and Kyle pulled his fingers from you, moving out of their lieutenant’s way as he completed his ritual, marking your insides, making you his. 

You felt the sweetest kiss against your ankle just before he slid himself from you, trying to go easy on your used hole. But, you couldn’t feel any pain. Not anymore. Your body was racked with pleasure. If someone had even brushed their finger over your pussy, you thought you might come. 

Simon’s hands fumbled with one of the ropes around your foot, and someone else took care of the other. Then, bright light filled your eyes as John pried open the crate. Then, all four men peered inside, starting down at you with wide smiles and satisfied grins plastered across their faces. 

“Hey, love. Let’s get you out, yeah?” Price purred, removing your gag and wiping your mouth with his thumb. With ease, he pulled you from the crate and cradled you in his arms, helping Johnny wrap his jacket around you. Johnny leaned forward to kiss your forehead, and Simon lifted your fingers to his lips before he replaced his mask. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up, babes,” Kyle spoke to you in a low tone, petting his thumb across your cheek. 

“Took such good care of us, lass. It’s our turn, now.”

You let them take you back to their shared room, holding onto them and letting them bathe you and set everything right, tucking you into bed and sitting with you as you dozed. They had all sprawled across the mattress, laying on you and each other, not truly caring whose limbs were whose. 

As usual, Simon was the last to doze off, and you whispered to each other in quiet voices.

“You alright, missus?” He asked, his voice attempting to hide his troubled concern.

“Mmm,” you nodded, “More than alright.”

There was a bit of a lull; he was considering something, and then he asked,

“Did you like it? Was I too –”

“No,” you stopped him in the middle of his worry, “You were perfect. Maybe next time we could –”

“Next time?” His surprise warmed your heart, and you smiled up at him, lifting his mask up to kiss his mouth.

“Yeah, next time.”