#i am peeling my skin off with my mind

[ohbutwheresyourheart]

having a body is a sensory nightmare

[icantscreamwhycantiscream]

I love being gaslit. Like, let's fucking go, do it again and again and again and again and keep telling me how I'm feeling and what I'm doing and what my actions and intentions are, like fuck me I guess.

[mawce-mirari]

"Nicotine withdrawal can't hurt you." Thanks for the info the CDC, but have you considered that withdrawal has me feeling about ready to self destruct? Have you considered... That this shit is sometimes used to cope with mental illness and that not having that to cope can bring some other issues, hm?

I hope the other quitting tips are actually helpful.

[cherriesnpapaya]

Fashion Killer - LN

In which Mr Norris is left speechless over a sundress.

Warnings: NSFW - smut. unprotected sex, oral (both male and female receiving / giving), friends with benefits, soft dom!lando,

Lan <3 - are you coming to the race?

Miami Grand Prix. In which the men on the grid couldn’t get away from models. Families definitely weren’t invited to this exhilarating mess of a weekend.

On my way sweet cheeks, please find me the coldest drink you can. - sent

Lando couldn’t care less what model they had behind him, trying to seem interested in the sport. He was watching her walk to the paddock in that ridiculously perfect sundress.

Loose, hung perfectly over her american doll legs. The cream of the linen light and only complimented by her brunette hair curled to perfection on her sides. He could practically feel how soft the stands felt as his hands gripped his bottle.

The tan she sported a crude reminder of her skimpy attire she had been living in whilst they lounged around the villa the last few days. He got them the quiet space, filled it with his friends to distract everyone and then revelled in her presence.

Bright smile on her cheeks as she waved for the cameras. Max Fewtrell by her side as they came to join Norris after supporting Fewtrell with his racing activities.

“How are you dressed in that.” She groaned, slipping onto a stool next to him. Lando had to peel his eyes off her legs before he ditched the car to catch a ride instead.

“My job, honey.” He chuckled, holding out his bottle for her. Bad idea.

He watched her lips wrap around the straw. He’s taken back to when he was teaching her how to use the bottles, and somehow ended up with a blowjob.

Final calls were being made to start the pre race media, so Lando stood up and opened his arms for his friends to fall into them.

“Go get em tiger.” She chuckled, the bottle handed back to him with the deep pink stain of her lipstick around the top of it. God how Lando wished to be a straw.

He certainly got them, coming first place for the first time in his career. He dripped with sweat, and some water he’s poured over his face, gleaming ear to ear. His tan still deep golden next to his orange suit.

The celebrations were never ending. From the crowd, his team, other garages and of course his fellow drivers. They poured into his villa, music and drinks flowing freely. The hum of chatter with the occasional cheer as the winner would join conversations. He worked his way round, trying to find the girl he’s been thinking about every second of the day.

“Thought I’d lost you.” He made her jump, slipping into her room. She turned from her position in front of the mirror, earrings in hand.

“I was just going to change.”

“But you look fit.” He could help but speak his mind. The filter between them had been lost about 6 shags ago.

“Have caught you staring a few times.”

“Oh no, punish me for my crimes please.”

He sneered, falling back onto the plush white bed. She rolled her eyes, placing the earrings down. The carpet muffled her steps, letting her slip between his open legs quietly.

“Aren’t you meant to be celebrating?” She teased, arms crossed as he peaked a look at her:

“I am, what’s my prize?” He hummed, sitting up to place his hands on the back of her thighs. Cheeky eyes gazed up at her, watching as her lip caught between her teeth. His thumbs worked circles into the soft skin. She didn’t know if she was desperate, but it felt like they slowly moved inwards.

The music vibrated through the floor, which she was quick to notice when she dropped to her knees. Lando couldn’t help the smirk taken over him, quickly removing anything in the way. He propped back on elbows as she finally took him into her hands.

Profanities rough from his throat as she took him down hers, tongue tracing the vein down the side of him. Bobbing her head, tongue piercing running over his top just how he liked. He throbbed, excitement having built up all day. She hummed, smirking when his head would fall back from watching her.

“Shit baby c’mere.” He ran a hand over her jaw, pushing her off his stained cock. He had the stamina for races in incredible heats, but she knew just how to ruin a man. He slipped off his tshirt in a blink, hands back glued to her hips as he pulled her to straddle his legs.

When she moved to slip her dress off, he caught her wrists, pushing them behind her back to drop them there. Her insides giddy with the move, grinding down slowly on his crotch.

“No chance. You’ve been teasing me with this all day.” He spoke against her neck, leaving sloppy kisses and sucks on any exposed skin. She didn’t even notice his fingers lingering over her panties, moving them to the side.

“Lando.” She whined, arms now hooked around his neck. He kneaded her arse, hips, tits as he sunk into her slowly. Her head rolled, moans covered up by the sounds of some asap song underneath them.

He could barely speak, weak moans fell from his open mouth as she took more control. Moving up and down at her own speed, occasionally rolling her hips to get him to hit that one spot.

She gasped, eyes shut as she rolled continuously into the same spot. Lando knew the tightness, he knew what it meant for you to get close.

“Just like that pretty girl.” He cooed, fingers brushing slowly over her clit in an aggravating manor. A string of swear words left the previously painted lips as she rolled, now mixing between rutting against his fingers and his cock.

Thank god for the loud music as she came for the first time that night, her body spasms into his as the rocking comes to an end.

“You good?” He checked, hands playing with the hem of her dress.

“So good.” Practically drooling, Lando chuckled at the cock drunk girl slumped into him. He attached his lips to hers, lifting her up to swap them around. Her legs rested over the end of the bed, not having a chance to even prop herself up before Lando licked a stripe through her folds.

It was a guilty pleasure of Lando’s, enjoying her body’s reactions to the way he rolled his tongue over her bud. Her legs wrapped around his head, before spreading again as she ran her fingers through his curls. She moaned out as Lando spat into her opening, the smile on his lips almost pushed her over the edge itself. And there she came, for a second time.

“You’re so gorgeous.” He complimented, overwhelmed by the look of her on the bed currently. Fucked out, face flushed and smiling. Hair sprawled out over the mattress, looking like a goddess. It made him harder to just look.

“Fuck me Lando.” She pulled him back in, heel digging into this back causing him to practically fall forward. He pretended to be shocked, moving her ankles to hang over her shoulders as he got right back to it.

“So fucking tight.” He hissed, fucking in and out of her and she swore he was in her stomach. He knew he was nearly fucked out, her nails digging into his stomach hinted the feeling was mutual.

Before he could pull out, he was pushing the warmth into her further. Moaning out probably a bit too loud, stilling completely as they both caught their breaths. Once he had pulled out, he was helping her clean up, pulling the dress back down to sit perfectly again.

“Wear that dress for me again sometime.”

“That’s a boyfriend privilege Norris.”

——————

Thank you for reading! New to the scene, so send any prompts/inspo over. I hope to write lots more for ya ;)

[feyascorner]

At first, he blinks when you wrap your arms around him.

For as much as he can remember, sex has been a tool to him. A necessity to survive under Cazador's influence, leaving him in a state that loathes the touch of others. Most encounters remained the same--he'd disassociate, and by the time he'd come to, he'd want to leave immediately, wishing to scrub his skin raw. But no matter how much he'd cleaned his own body, it never seemed enough.

At least, until you.

He feels your bare form press against his back and tenses. It's different from before---not out of disgust, but out of surprise. He'd thought you'd leave. He'd given you his services and had nothing left to offer you, yet here you were, your cheeks smushed against the crook of his neck. He has no idea what you're doing, but you simply hold him tighter.

"What is this?" he finally says.

You don't budge. "What's what?"

His hands brush against your own. "This."

"My hand?" you snort, but he adjusts his body so he's now facing you, your eyes meeting with such seriousness that the smile vanishes from your face. "Are you okay? Did you not like it?"

He nearly balks at your words. Not like it? It's the first time he hasn't lost himself in the cage of his own mind during the act in---well, forever. He doesn't even want to scrub until his skin peels because he wants your touch to linger as long as possible. "I did, I just--we had sex, my dear."

The slightest pink tinges on your cheeks, and he wants to move his hands to cup them. "We did."

"...People usually leave by now."

Your face falls. "You want me to leave?"

"No, of course not, but it's just what usually..." he trails off, and his brows furrow. You suddenly seem to understand his confusion as your eyes soften in that irritatingly beautiful way of yours. But they almost seem sad...for him.

"I can stay," you say, your fingers tracing the shapes of his face. It feels nice if the way he nearly shudders means anything. He wants more.

"If you insist on adoring me, then," he replies, but his voice isn't as performative as it usually is. "Who am I to stop you?"

You smile wider, and he's sure his poor heart is doomed.

The first few times after this, he's still hesitant, unsure if you're really going to stay. But after a while, he's the one to wrap his arms around you, bringing you impossibly close as he breathes in the scent of your soap. You let him hold you until morning, and even then, he doesn't want to let go.

"Thank you," he mumbles one day. "Truly."

You only squeeze his hand, and it's enough for a thousand unspoken words.

[buntanteen]

bestie fwb!mingyu headcanons (nsfw)

summary: kim mingyu and reader's bestie fwb dynamic headcanons :3

contains: 18+ nsfw writing so mdni!! implications that reader is smaller than gyu

✩ svt writing & fic rec masterlist ✩

bestie!minyu who is just a poor puppy not catching a break from anyone 😔 especially from you lmao. you're one of his biggest supporters but also biggest teasers. post-concert, you'll be imitating how he's trying to make carats swoon with his charms (the both of you know how proud you are of him <3 you just love seeing him pouty) 

bestie!mingyu who lets you use his chest as a stress balls. you once said "honk honk" while squeezing them and got your mingyu tiddies card revoked for a week😢

during bestie!mingyu’s night dance practices to finish, he'll come whine to you that "jeonghan hyung is being mean🥺" or complain about whichever member is pulling jokes on him. he should've known better that you’d be riling him right with them 🥰

fwb!mingyu who comes home to bury his face in your chest after a long day. you think he's knocked out...only for him to start licking, nipping and sucking marks onto your skin :3

bestie!mingyu who will always provide you delicious meals😌😌 is constantly cooking you a something when you come over and has deemed you his official taste tester! if you insist to cook alongside him, he'll refuse. he might let you peel the veggies tho <3

when you go out to eat, bestie!mingyu will always insists on picking up the cheque. since you get pouty about him not letting you pay, he lets u buy the dessert at the convenience stores or cute lil cafes as a compromise

bestie!mingyu who always asks you to take pretty boyfriend pics of him for his carats🥹 ofc you oblige, loving to see his fans fawn over new pictures that you so carefully asking him to pose for  

fwb!mingyu who begs to eat you out and hits you his 🥺 puppy eyes so you to let him (you were going to anyways)

bestie!mingyu who comes to you for relaxation or advice when he's stressed out of his mind. he lets you pamper him with gentle touches and soothe away his worries with sweet words. you tuck him into your bed so he rests well to tackle the next day😊

feeling safe enough to initiate touch with bestie!mingyu :) he gives as many piggy backs as you desire as long as you let him bite his fangs into your arm when he's bored 🥰 sits you in his lap in crowded group hangouts. you've insisted that he sit in yours too, but your legs became numb after 5 minutes😭😭

good puppy fwb!mingyu whimpering pleads against your neck or between your legs for you give him permission to cum while he ruts against the bed sheets 🥺

always having sleepovers with bestie!mingyu. atp you could be another roommate to the minwon household for how often you're just vibing at their place when they arrive home

fwb!mingyu who got caught sniffing your underwear post sex when you went to get him water. you end up stroking his hair with his head in your lap, jerking him off with your underwear around his cock...but you leave him blue balled as a punishment <3 "oh! i'm late to work, see you later after your tour?😘”

while he's on tour, fwb!mingyu won't have phone sex with you, but leaves you voice notes of the pretty noises he makes jerking off as payback <3

ames note: hi hi! this is my first time writing wooooo~ this was definitely self indulgent😅 i just wanna be friends with mingyu! he seems like the most fun guy to hang out with...and to get dicked down by lmao. i hope y'all enjoyed it and are doing well!! i tried for something gender neutral but i'm not sure if i achieved it? feel free to kindly give feedback <3 ς(.-‿-)

author note: do not distribute my work on other platforms without my consent. if you see my writing in places other than this tumblr account, please let me know. my writings are purely fictional fantasises for fun. the people i write about are real human beings and should still be treated as such. please do not take my writings seriously or as truth.

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Cats

Alien: Thanks for inviting me over. Alien: I’ve never been in a human’s home before so this will be- *sees cat sitting on couch* Alien: What is that? Human: That is Fred. *Turns to cat* Human: Say hi Fred. Fred: *MEOW* Alien: I was not aware you had a roommate. Human: What? Human: No, he’s my pet. Alien: You keep a sentient being as a pet? Are you a monster? Human: No; but Fred is. Fred: *MEOW* ----------------------

Alien: *goes to sit down, accidentally steps on fluffy ball* *Cat’s head shoots up* Human: You need to run. Alien: What? Why? Human: You just stepped on Fred’s favorite toy. Alien: So that means I am in danger? Fred: *low growling sound* Human: It’s too late….. --------------------------

*Thirteen stitches later* Alien: How can something so fluffy be so angry!?!?! Human: Domestication probably. Alien: Is that not meant to breed out the violence? Human: Normally yes, but with cats it just condensed it. ------------------------

*Next day* *Door slowly opens* Alien: Is it safe to come in? Human: Let me check. *Picks up Fred and holds him in front of alien* Fred: *Low growling noise* Human: No it is n- Alien: *Slams door shut quickly* ---------------------

*Two days later* Alien: *Sipping drink* Alien: What can I do to win over your furry slave? Human: First off, he is a pet not a slave. Human: And even if that was the situation I technically am Fred’s slave. Alien: *Surprised* You are one of the most advanced species in the galaxy; having mastered space travel and the manipulation of matter itself. Human: And yet I am the one cleaning up his shits. Alien: *Opens mouth to counter, then sips instead when nothing comes to mind* ----------------------

Human: Why does it matter that you want Fred to like you? Human: I thought you hated him? Alien: Were he not an animal I would have sworn a blood oath to destroy him and his family for what he has done to my face. Human: I ask again; why does it matter? Alien: Because for reasons beyond my understanding I feel compelled to have that little death machine love me. Human: Welcome to being a cat owner. ------------------------

*Three days later* *Door slowly opens* Alien: Are you ready? Human: I’ve got Fred. Alien: And you’re sure this will work? Human: Positive. *Alien walks in and Fred starts growling* Human: Get ready; I’m releasing Fred. *Puts Fred down who begins sprinting towards alien* *Alien holds out tiny tube with goop pouring out end* Fred: *MEOW!* *Stops murder sprint and begins sniffing and licking tube enthusiastically* Alien: So you bribe him with food? Human: Works on us humans as well. ------------------

Alien: Do you think I have won him over? *Fred walks up and brushes against Alien* Human: I think you’re good.

Alien: It felt like being embraced by the goddess herself. --------------------

Alien: So besides eating, sleeping, and acts of disproportionate violence; what else do they like to do? Human: Fred loves to play. *Picks up laser pointer and flashes it around room* *Fred’s head shoots up, does the butt wiggle, then lunges at the laser* Alien: What fascinating technology. Human: Yeah; we also use this to guide missiles for air strikes in wars. Alien: Your pet enjoys playing with tools of death? Human: I think that’s one of the reasons he enjoys it so much. ------------------

Alien: *Looks down at shirt* Alien: What is this? Human: Oh yeah, forgot to mention he’s a heavier shedder. Human: Sorry about that. Alien: Do not worry, for I too shed my skin. *Proceeds to peel off skin until raw muscle and bone is left* *Casually tosses aside empty skin suit which Fred walks over to and cuddles in* Human: Thank you for that fresh nightmare material. Alien: *slurring words due to no lips* Yoooou’re welllllcoommme.

[fanaticsnail]

Dreaming of You

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 320+, 600+, 940+, 1,200+

Synopsis: They couldn't help it. You looked so heavenly in their dreams. The way they had you wrapped around their body as a marionette in their minds, dancing for them as they awoke to sticky blankets when they jolted upright. Their thoughts got the better of them, and they are wracked with guilt. Law, Penguin, Shachi.

Warnings: wet dreams, afab!reader, masturbation, slight yandere: law-penguin-shachi, dub con (masturbating while you're unaware and in the same room, using your image to masturbate to), all individual 'x reader', headcanons, you can sense my favouritism and bias, NSFW, 18+, MDNI.

Notes: Had to get this out, it was driving me nuts. Brought to you by my obsession with the heart-pirates lately. Please read the warnings. Kid-Pirate Version. Art link.

Tag list: @sordidmusings @nerium-lil @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @indydonuts @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @carrotsunshine @mfreedomstuff

Cries of bliss fell from your throat as you allowed the unbridled lust overtake your body. You writhed, overcome with grinding and circling your hips to use his thick cock to chase your high, clenching around him tightly to tether yourself to him. Looking up at your face, witnessing its contortion in pleasure was all it needed for him to immediately bark out a string of curses, spilling his hot cum deep within your core.

The contractions of your walls fluttering around his throbbing cock prompted him to cry your name and chase his high with more intentional bucks and thrusts. You whine his name, gripping onto his shoulders while you allow him to use your body for his pleasure. Your own high propelled his to linger longer, his hot spurts splashing up within you as he molded your body to the shape of his throbbing cock.

“I-I’m cumming,” he whispered, his brows furrowing as the tension in his stomach snapped, “Oh, I’m f-fucking cumming.” The soft, smoky image of your body crying atop him scorched into his memories. He couldn’t get enough, his eyes glazing over as he witnessed you take his entire load deep within you. The whisper of his name on your tongue, the soft smile on your lips, and body glistening in the soft glow of lustful sweat had never had him so transfixed on a single moment before.

His body suddenly jolted awake, the images of you fading away from his mind as he immediately sat upright in his dimly lit bedroom. Lips parting, he threw back the sheets and growled at himself as he looked to his lower abdomen. The white, translucent cum coated his still quivering and throbbing cock: the sticky fluid pooling over his stomach, down his shaft and dampening the sheets beneath him. He groans, wiping his face and pinching his brow before falling back and wallowing in his own embarrassment.

“Fuck.”

Trafalgar Law

He snuck another glance down at his body, clicking his tongue to reprimand himself.

“What a fucking mess,” he growled, his lips curling up and frown furrowing in the middle of his forehead. He hastily reached for his bedside tissue box, swiping a square napkins from the slot and began violently wiping at his skin to rid itself of the cum spent below him.

He was so in control of himself, every aspect of his life being refined down to a fine art. His schedule never differed, he even jotted in when he had the opportunity to masturbate to rid himself of his pent-up stress. He had even stepped out of that routine and managed to relieve himself before falling asleep last night.

So why did this happen?

Overcome with complete embarrassment and shame, he hastily stood up and began peeling off his stained bedsheets and folded them into his laundry basket. Reaching for his linen closet, he growled under his breath while he redressed his bed with his fitted sheet, top sheet, and new cover for his plush duvet.

“The fuck is wrong with me?” he growled at himself, looking down at his cock while he snapped the buttons in place to contain the duvet. Lying back within the sheets, he growled at himself, rolled over onto his side and folded his arms over his chest.

“Law, I-I'm so close,” your fictional and illusionary voice rang in his ears, prompting him to clamp his pillow around his head to muffle the thoughts.

“Shut up,” he scolded his mind, grimacing as he felt a rush of blood pool in his cock. He attempted to ignore it, but the images of you wrapped around his cock prompted his knob to begin twitching at the thoughts.

“Just like that,” your voice called to him, face beginning to contort in pleasure as your illusionary body contracted around him in his mind, “Fuck, don't stop. Please don't stop.”

“Oh, for fucks sake,” he barked, immediately peeling the pillow away from his head and throwing it on the mattress. He folded it in half, immediately slotting his cock between the silken material.

He ground his hips down into the pillow with his left hand holding the stuffed material down firmly atop his throbbing cock, his right gripping the headboard of his bed. His cock was so achingly hard, thick veins began throbbing with desire as his mind conjured what you looked like beneath him.

Your legs would wrap around his hips, your lips crying out his name as he hit that spot deep within you that had you scream for him. He imagined pressing down on your stomach, feeling how deep he was within your abdomen while his thumb stimulated your clit.

As he imagined you reach your high, he manically drove his cock harder within the plush pillow: the satin shroud feeling slippery against his steely cock. He pictured you sobbing as you came undone beneath him, your eyes glistening as he had you reach your peak.

He gently cried your name, sobbing as his hips staggered in an unsyncopated rhythm. His voice caught in his throat as he let out a final lengthy groan. Ribbons of his release coated his pillowcase, his forehead thumping against the wall beyond the bedframe as he shot the last spurt of cum into the material.

“What the fuck is wrong with me?” he mourned his sanity, moving away from his prior position and opening up the folded pillow. He grimaced at the mess, berating himself for not only making another mess he had to clean up, but angry at the fact he used the thought of his crewmate to seek out his own pleasure.

“Fuck.”

Penguin

After quickly snapping up from his sleeping position and locating his shirt from beneath his bedside table, he wiped at his cock and stomach with it to rid it of his sticky cum. He rolled onto his side, hastily scrunching his eyes shut and pouting as he tried to fall back asleep.

His thoughts were swimming with the image of you in the thralls of bliss, riding his cock as you used his body to coast through the waves of passion. He could barely halt his roaming hands snaking down his abdomen and clench around his already hardening cock.

Praying that Shachi was still sleeping in the twin bunk beside him in their shared crew-quarters, he pricked his ears up and listened for the steady rise and fall of soft snoring in his ears. Once he deemed Shachi was sleeping deeply enough, he clapped his left hand over his lips and used his right to piston his cock within his fist.

If he was forced to cum within his dreams at the thought of you, he would intend on using that image to cum of his own volition. The way you bounced on top of him, flipping to wrythe beneath him, the soft slaps of hips meeting, the ripples of your ass as he bucked in from behind you; all of these images had him whimpering into his palm while he fucked his hand to reach his high.

He whispered your name, his eyes pricking at the corners as he spilled himself into the same shirt he used to clean himself up with moments prior. He was immediately overcome with disgust at himself. He had violated the image of you as his crewmate and turned you into his own muse to reach his orgasm.

Throughout the entirety of his shift with Shachi, his pout never left his face. His brows were furrowed, his eyes were shrouded even further beneath his hat, and his soft pout quivered into a deep frown the moment his eyes met with your body across the station. His red-haired crewmate beside him noticed his change in demeanor, giving him a soft nudge with his elbow.

“The hell is wrong with you, man?” Shachi arched his eyebrow, scowling with his upper lip curling into a soft snarl, “You’re actually doing work. And you’re so damn silent.” Penguin chose not to engage his workmate, picking up the pace with adjusting a panel on the Polar Tang.

“This got anything to do with...” Shachi leant forwards, whispering a soft moan of your name into Penguin’s ear, followed by a mocking tease of, “...I-I'm cumming. Oh, I’m f-fucking cumming.” Penguin’s face turned a deeper shade of red than Shachi’s hair, the blush flooding down his neck and igniting his skin beneath the burn.

Having a shared bunk with Shachi had its benefits: his closest friend being right there for him when the night terrors got too much for one another. He usually enjoyed having him there, but now that he was throwing his intrusive dream back in his face by mocking his sleep-talking, he was livid.

“Chill out, Penguin,” Shachi jokes, giving him a clap on the shoulder, “Happens to the best of us-.”

“-I’m not some prepubescent teenager who can’t control their fucking thoughts!” Penguin barked, prompting you to turn from your desk and look towards the two men. Penguin hushed his tone, whispering quietly to his friend. “I-I just-...” he snuck a look over at you, his breath hitching as he noticed your stare.

You shot him a puzzled look, glancing at him up and down before returning to your work. Shachi shook his head, clapping over his shoulder to support him.

“You know,” Shachi whispered, “They probably won’t bite,” he nudged him, urging him a little closer to you, “Why don’t you go ask ‘em if they wanna make your dreams come true.” Penguin snapped his head over to Shachi, who had already begun sprinting away from an enraged Penguin.

“Get back here, asshole!” Penguin roared after him, his blush deepening within his cheeks. Shachi chortled, reaching around your body and shielding himself behind you.

“Oi, don't bring me into whatever this is!” you chastised him, attempting to break away from Shachi’s grip. Penguin attempted to reach behind your shoulders, just as Shachi pushed your body into Penguin's.

As your chests collided, the angle of Penguin’s head trying to reach Shachi had his lips knit immediately with yours. You squealed in surprise, humming against his lips as Penguin's own surprise gasped against your own.

You both remained equally surprised at the fact that neither of you pulled away. In fact, Shachi reached for your wrists and clamped them around Penguins neck before he quickly scuttled away, almost forcing you to give into your mutual craving for one another. You felt the rise in heat on Penguin's cheeks, the warm burn causing you to smile against his lips.

Humming gently, you angle your chin up to deepen the soft kiss. You cradled his cheeks, squeaking in delight as he wraps his arms around your back and hoists you up into his chest. You break away from his lips to gaze deeply into his blushing face.

“Sorry ‘bout this,” he murmurs before giving you a soft peck on the lips, “Can we hold this thought for a second so I can go kill him real quick?”

“By all means,” you giggled at him, watching as a mischievous grin drew over his lips. As he releases you and begins to turn away, you draw his attention back with a soft hand atop his cheek. You draw him in close, giving his unoccupied cheek a soft kiss.

“Good luck.”

Shachi

Growling, he immediately threw himself into his shared lavatory with his bunkmate, Penguin. Never had he been so thankful that Law put Penguin on night shift with Ikkaku tonight without him. He aggressively scrunched at some tissue paper, cleaning up his spend all over his red happy trail. He groaned as he fisted at his semi-firm cock, ensuring all of the cum was out of his shaft and firmly squelched into the tissue.

Looking over at his bedside analog clock, he groaned and flung his head back. The small arm of the clock was barely touching the four, the larger one slowly moving to flick onto the ten. He slung his pajama pants over his hips, the material hanging limply and exposing his chiseled adonis belt.

“Not even 4am, for fucks sake,” he shook his head, peeling back his sheets and throwing them into his laundry basket. Weighing up his options, he decided it was not worth attempting to fall back asleep after remaking his bed with fresh sheets, and instead chose to use his time to have a lengthy and uninterrupted shower. He might even indulge in taking a lengthy, relaxing bath afterwards.

Considering the time and crew rotation, he chose the bathroom furthest away from crew quarters to not disturb those remaining in blissful slumber. As soon as he entered the room, he heard a soft humming melody echoing within the tiled walls and joined with the flooding water from the tap filling the large spa.

He turned the corner just as you dropped the towel from your body and stepped within the large bath. His eyes roamed over your thighs, hips, ass, stomach, chest and shoulders until he met with your gaze.

“Oh!” you shrieked in shock, gawking at him as he arrived in nothing but his uniform pajama pants, “Sorry, Shachi. I hope I didn't wake you!” A soft blush rose to his cheeks, looking away from your form and walking over to the shower.

Bathing together was not something uncommon with the heart-pirates. All members of the crew would often indulge in dipping into an onsen together, sharing a ceramic cup or wooden box of sake and joking with one another. It was never anything other than platonic, purely getting joy from being warmed within the water as you shrouded uniformes and became of equal stations and standing.

But now that his mind chose to corrupt the image of you naked, he couldn't help but to turn away from you and ready himself for a very cold shower. Stripping himself from his pants, he placed them in a neat pile beside your clothes. He took off his hat and glasses, rubbing his hands through his hair and placed them on top of his pants.

“You didn't wake me,” he muttered with a straightened, tight-lipped smile, “Couldn't sleep, thought I'd start early. What about you?" He turned on the tap, wincing as the ice-like shards hit his skin.

"Pretty much the same, unfortunately," Shrugging, you gathered several items to scrub at your skin, "I'm on the early shift, too. Thought I'd have a bath." Washing your face first, you lathered the suds atop your cheeks and eyes before dipping yourself in the hot water.

You sighed, leaning back and submerging your hair to lather in foamy shampoo. Your eyes were closed as you arched your back to gather the appropriate angle to dip the crown of your head within the water. Shachi snuck a look at you from behind the tiled wall of the shower stall, immediately clamping his eyes shut as he took in the sight of your bare chest with peaked nipples dripping with opaque suds of soap. He hid his face behind the wall, his forehead resting on it as his cock sprung to life.

“Fuck,” he whispered, turning the cold tap on more to freeze his body out of the thoughts overcoming him. His cock refused to let up, immediately pooling with blood and twitching with anticipation.

“Shachi?” you called to him, brows knit with concern, “Shach, you okay? You hurt?” You attempted to peer around the ceramic wall, but ultimately decided to give him privacy and an opportunity to talk.

“‘M fine,” he grunted out, his right hand grasping his cock and attempting to choke the life from it, pleading with it to fall back to its usual, flaccid state, “Just got soap in my eye, s’all.” The lie was easy enough to believe, causing him to grimace at the fact he could so easily get away with this.

“Oh, I hate it when that happens!” you comment with a soft laugh, lathering up your scalp and groaning as you massaged your fingertips within the damp strands.

Shachi flinched beneath the icy water, his arousal now heightened as soon as he heard your groan. He clenched his teeth tightly shut, his hand moving of its own volition as he circled his thumb over his tip.

“Hey, Shachi?” you hummed in thought, dipping your hair into the water and removing the soap from the ribbons of soaked locks, “Ikkaku, Bepo and I were gonna go to the bar in-land after our shift ends tomorrow. Bepo was gonna ask Penguin if he wanted to come too.”

Shachi hummed in interest, his voice breaking a little in the middle as he listened to your statement. He couldn't help it, his hand began pistoning his shaft and strangling his knob with each crude thrust. He sucked in his bottom lip and clamped down harshly on the flesh.

“It's got that one cocktail I'm obsessed with there,” you added, gathering some conditioner and layering your hair within prayer-like hands, “Did you wanna come too?”

Shachi’s eyes went black with lust, hearing such a simple word as he worked at his cock behind the shroud of the tiled screen. His breath hitched as he felt his end reach its peak, precum beginning to pearl at his slit.

“Shachi?” you call to him, unaware that he was picking up the pace of his hand beating his cock to the sound of your voice, “Do you wanna come?”

Shachi whimpered, nearly reaching his high as his eyes rolled back to your innocent suggestion. He was right there, he just needed one more little push.

“Wh-What was that?” he tested, using the volume of the pelted water within the shower to mask your question from reaching him, “Can you speak up a little? Ask me again?”

“Shachi?” You asked him, your question so innocent, yet Shachi allowed his thoughts to run away with him the moment you asked your question, “Do you wanna come with me?”

“Y-Yes,” he whined, “I wanna come. Let me come with you. I wanna come so bad.” Shachi painted the wall of the shower with hot spurts of his sticky cum, his eyes rolling back as he chased his orgasm as silently as he could. Ropes of spattered cum wrote his sinful desires against the tiles, his toes curling and his hips lewdly bucking. After coming down from his high, he clicked his tongue to reprimand himself.

“Fuck, Shachi,” you giggled, “I've never heard you so enthusiastic about a cocktail before! You sure you wanna come with us?” Your teasing voice prompted Shachi to chuckle from behind the wall, his voice was breathy and filled with humour.

“I would love to come with you,” he panted, immediately wracked with guilt about using your voice and image to reach his climax for the second time today, “Just let me know when you're heading out, and I'll be ready.”

"Okay, great!" you giggled, rinsing the conditioner in the water and remaining blissfully ignorant to Shachi's orgasm erupting on the wall so close to you.

[imsofreakingtired]

sevika missing date night angst/comfort‼️

thanks for the request!

not sure if this is what you had in mind, but hope you enjoy :)

know it's for the better

“and when broken bodies are washed ashore who am i to ask for more, more, more? but you’re breathing in my open mouth you’re the gun in my lips that will blow my brains out”

~~~

content: light angst, fluff if you squint ig..?

~~~

The candles are lit. You watch them burn steadily, casting long shadows on the walls, making the peeling paint and cracked plaster look like some sort of lost art from ancient times, better times….

You’re wearing the only fine piece of clothing you own—a black jacket made of real leather, something swiped from a Piltover flea market long ago, before the bridge became a battle zone. Your lips are painted with precious red lipstick. The clock ticks, every second mocking you, and the bottle of aged wine sits between two empty glasses.

Sevika told you she would come by eleven. It is now nearing twelve.

You know people do not have the luxury of dating in the Undercity. They don’t have the leisure to spend long hours in each other’s arms, in the glow of each other’s company. Not when there was barely even enough food to go around, when children’s hungry cries filled the nights and innocent people were arrested from their beds without even a warrant, snatched away to Stillwater. You know that in all likelihood, Sevika was still with Vander and Silco in the Last Drop, plotting and arguing about the revolution, the reformation of Zaun.

But she had promised tonight she would be yours, and Sevika never made promises she couldn’t keep.

You don’t want to be angry yet. Nor do you want to be worried. And you don’t want to feel selfish, either—sitting up in an empty apartment without any heating or running water, lipstick on your mouth when others didn’t even have clothes for the winter, a full bottle of wine on the table. Waiting for a lover you have no right to have.

When the clock ticks twelve-thirty, you stand up with a sigh and blow out the candles. No use wasting precious wax. You hesitate at the table, eyeing the glasses. You think, fuck it. You fill one of the glasses and drink the wine slowly, bitterly.

Sevika always said that you were the only reason she fought for Zaun. That you made it all worth it. Well, if you were so important to her, was it really too much to ask for just half a night to see her face?

You take off your jacket and drape it over your chair, then you take the glass of wine to your bed and kick off your shoes before lying down. The wine fills your head with sleep and resentment, and the thoughts come and go in waves. Before long your annoyance melts and you are only filled with a deep shame. Sevika will never love another person, you think, as nearly as she loves the cause. She will always be happier straining her body, giving everything she has, to the fight, than she would be living a quiet life. A quiet life with you.

Your eyelids feel heavy, but you keep watching the door drowsily, in a stupid half-hope that Sevika will come after all. You feel the tension drain from your body, a defeat. Sevika will always choose to fight. And you will always choose to wait for her. You would wait for her all through the night, all through the day, if you had to.

~~~

You don’t know when you finally fell asleep, but it seems like both an eternity and only a few seconds before you feel a warm calloused hand cupping your face, hear a familiar deep voice in your ear.

“Baby,” Sevika says softly.

You stir, not quite awake, force your eyes open to stare at her blearily through the darkness.

“I thought you weren’t coming,” you mumble.

“Are you mad?” Sevika asks.

You aren’t mad. You can’t be mad. For one thing, you’re dead-tired, and you aren’t even quite sure whether or not you’re dreaming all of this. But you can see the beautiful outline of Sevika’s face, and it’s enough to feel her hand on your skin, her voice so close to your ear. You reach up and take her hand, holding it against your face.

“You gotta leave again?” you ask.

“No.”

“Then stay with me.”

She gives a low chuckle. “That’s what I was hoping to do.”

You move over to the side of the bed so Sevika can lie down beside you. She slips an arm under your head, wraps the other around your waist, and pulls you close to her, spooning you in her body. She kisses the crook of your neck. She doesn’t say it, but you can tell by the way she holds you that she missed you.

“You better still be here when I wake up in the morning,” you murmur.

“Count on it,” she says, her voice already thick with sleep.

You smile and let yourself drift away into your dreams.

Dreams of a quiet life, a sunlit life.

With Sevika.

thank you @strawberrykidneystone for the request :)

[vincentaureliuslin]

thinking about "quincy martin. philosophy major. the first time they kissed me, they cupped my face in their hands. gently, like i was something they thought could break. like a nestling they peeled off the ground. i didnt understand why. and then i discovered quincys body and mine fit. we moved in together in a summer so hot it felt like we stuck, kissing until we could melt slowly into the others skin. quincy makes breakfasts and i make dinners. i wake up earlier on tuesdays to pack them a lunch. we sleep with my head on his chest. and then i understood. if quincy is warm and precious and fragile, i am all these things as well. we are the twin chambers of a minnows heart. the first time they kissed me, it was easy. like unlocking a new part of my mind. like they'd been there all along." i might be sick

[ccazimi]

Nightingale (pt. 2)

Read pt. 1 and pt. 3

CW: stepcest, period sex (oral, fingering), noncon/dubcon, wounding? (fingering with nails), namecalling (princess, pet, slut, etc.), squirting, fem reader, degradation, modern noncurse au, lmk if i missed anything else

WC: 4.5k

as usual, 18+, mdni

Morning sunlight streams into the window as you bite into the toast smothered in anko. Both your parents have already left to go to work, leaving just you finishing your meal and Yuuji scarfing down his next to you. Sukuna still hasn’t shown himself to your relief but you hasten your chewing to disappear into your room before he possibly decides to make an entrance.

You were almost scared to return home after your date last night, but luckily you didn’t run into Sukuna when you got back around 11 and let yourself in.

The date itself was pretty decent, especially for a first one. He’d taken you to a trendy new conveyor belt sushi restaurant, the night filled with laughter and playful banter that almost made you forget about what had happened right before.

Almost.

Unfortunately the awareness of its proof in your panties ruined your first ever kiss at the end of the night, effectively putting a damper on things when they started to heat up and he’d invited you back to his dorm at uni. You had been preparing for this night, for this moment, but suddenly it felt uncomfortable as you became even more conscious of the urge to peel off your undergarments and scrub your skin.

You politely declined, rambling on about how your parents expected you home or something. If he knew it was an excuse, luckily he didn’t mind and the drive to drop you home was still in good spirits.

If you blocked out all memories of Sukuna from yesterday, it was actually a pretty decent night.

You finish up your toast before moving onto the yogurt with chunks of fruit in it, just about to dive in when you hear his footsteps and make out the silhouette of his frame coming down the hallway.

Though your eyes are steadily trained on mixing the yogurt your body still tenses and the hammering in your chest urges you to leave.

“Good morning, Sukuna!” Yuuji greets his older brother with his usual sunny disposition that does nothing to ease the prickling on your skin. You can feel Sukuna’s eyes boring into you.

“What’s left to eat?” Sukuna asks lazily, pulling out a chair in front of you and taking a seat.

His voice was the last straw and you keep your eyes cast downward as you slowly stand up, holding the open container of yogurt.

“Eggs, toast, yogurt, coffee, some fruits. You goin’ to work today?” Yuuji replies through a mouth full of food.

“I am.” To your dismay, Sukuna turns his head in your direction before you can sneak away. “And where are you going?”

You swallowed. “I’m done with my food and I have some homework to catch up on….” You mumble.

“Its bad manners to get up while we’re still eating.” Sukuna chides you. “Besides aren’t you gonna tell us how your date went last night?”

Just like Sukuna probably intended, Yuuji perks up at the mention and looks curiously at you. “Date? You went on a date? How’d it go?!” He asks excitedly.

You glare at Sukuna and that stupid smug grin on his face as you sit back down. His nerve never ceases to astound you.

“It went fine. We got dinner at that new conveyor belt sushi place.” You spoon some of the yogurt into your mouth.

“No one cares about that.” Sukuna reaches over to pluck the yogurt from your hands despite your protests. “So did you fuck or not?”

You turn pink as Yuuji pipes up. “Sukuna, give her yogurt back and stop asking her questions like that.”

The question wouldn’t be so bad if you didn’t know as well as Sukuna did that he’d effectively made sure you couldn’t have sex with your date last night even if you wanted to.

“The princess can get a new one.” He finishes your yogurt in about two bites before setting the empty container back in front of you. “Yes or no?”

“We didn’t. Can you leave me alone now?” You snap a bit more sharply than you’d intended, causing Sukuna’s eyes to slant as you stand up to get another yogurt from the fridge.

“Watch your tone.”

“Let it go, Sukuna. Besides you’re being a jerk anyways, what did you expect?” Yuuji defends you with pure intentions but still you feel a bit embarrassed as you remember what Sukuna said last night about his “white-knighting”.

He probably thought of you as sheltered, soft. Unable to defend yourself.

The thought irritates you more than it should and you promptly dismiss yourself after retrieving the yogurt, making your way past Sukuna and into your room.

The next day your date texts you asking if you want to go out again and while you do, luck just has it that your period starts so you schedule for next week instead. Two days pass by and between schoolwork, classes, and staying holed up in your room in pain, you don’t see Sukuna all that much.

Three nights later you’re curled up on your bed in fetal position, unable to fall asleep thanks to the constant pinching in your belly. Not even the hot shower you took seemed to help, neither did the 500 mg of ibuprofen. You’re considering if you have it in you to get up and make some hot herbal tea when you hear the motorbike pull up to the house before shutting off and the front door unlocking.

Sukuna must be back from his shift.

You check the time on your phone. It’s a bit after 1 am and with the quietness in the house you know both your parents and Yuuji would already be asleep right now, leaving only Sukuna awake and prowling about.

No tea tonight.

You curl up tighter as another especially sharp cramp pierces through your gut and you feel warm blood leak out into your pad, praying sleep will fall over you soon.

A few minutes later your hear footsteps coming up the stairs, your breath involuntarily pausing, waiting for him to walk by your room.

Except he doesn’t.

The doorknob starts to turn and your mind races at what he could possibly want or be doing at this hour. You bury your face into your pillow facing your back towards the door, shutting your eyes as you hear it open.

For a few seconds everything is perfectly still and you think he might have left.

Suddenly a peculiar sensation makes you jump- long fingers on your scalp, stroking through the length of your hair. The feeling makes your stomach curl and you snap your head around to tell him to fuck off.

“What do you want?” You hiss, biting your lip to hold in a wince as another brutal cramp rips through you.

The only light in your room is the pale moonlight streaming in, illuminating just the contours of his face, the rest of his figured cloaked in shadows and barely visible where he was standing by your bed.

“I knew you weren’t sleeping.”

“Get out. I don’t want to deal with you right now.” The pain in your abdomen made you more irritable than usual, growling at him as you turn your face back into the covers.

You feel the bed dip under his weight, gasping as your face is grabbed by the chin and twisted back to look at him. “And who do you think you’re talking to? You’re feeling brave tonight, huh?”

Another cramp. You stay silent, hoping he’ll leave if you don’t provoke him further.

Instead, he lets go of your face to swat you lightly. “Move.”

You want to deny him but between the pain and your fear of provoking him you do as he says, still facing away as you shift to the other side of the bed. Sukuna crawls in beside you under the sheets, scooting close as he lies down and pulls you in so that he’s spooning you.

Your chest is fluttering at the warmth of his body against yours more than you’d like and you conveniently blame it on the state of your period hormones.

“You know how much I hate that bratty attitude of yours…” He sighs against the back of your neck, rubbing his lips along as the hand on your hip pulls you even tighter.

“How was work?” You ask quietly, shifting tactics and hoping you could loosen the building heat by asking him normal and mundane questions.

“Good. It’s a nice restaurant, the kind you take a girl to for a first date.” He lifts his head a bit while his fingers begin trailing the length of your body, down over the tops of your thighs and back up to skim across your clothed abdomen. ���Not a conveyer sushi belt place.”

“I liked it, okay? It was a good date.” You huff a bit defensively. “Besides I don’t think any college student has the money for kaiseki as a first date.”

Sukuna offers no response apart from a slight chuckle, though his fingers are growing bolder in their exploring in a way that has your breathing quickening slightly.

You tense as another cramp seizes your uterus but the pain is quickly overshadowed by the feeling of his hand abruptly slipping under the hem of your top and reaching up to cup your breast.

“What are you doing?” You whisper as your own hand comes up to pull his off while you shoot a worried glance to the door to your room still ajar behind you. “Wh-what if mom or dad…or Yuuji see-”

“So what if they do?” Sukuna nips playfully at the shell of your ear. “I’m just helping my little sister fall asleep…”

You suppress a shiver down your spine, disgust at his disturbing words settling down into unwanted sparks in your gut. Your hand loosens its grip on his and just as soon he squeezes your sore breast, drawing a sharp gasp from you.

“Could you at least close the door? In case someone walks by?” You plead quietly as another one of his arms slip under you and wrap around to grope your chest with both hands. “Ow, ah-”

“Close the door? Why?” His fingers are kneading the tender tissue of your tits, making you wince. “What do you plan on doing with me?” He teases, pressing his hips up into your ass to make sure you can feel his hardening dick. “Gonna jerk me off with your panties again?”

Heat blooms across your cheek, once again caught between yourself and the repulsion that was slowly morphing into a dark desire that was only encouraged by the pads of his fingers tracing your areolas, nipples hardening under the touch.

Its just your period hormones you repeatedly try to reason with yourself again and almost on cue, your uterus contracts again. The cramps along with the pain from your aching breasts being massaged and the heat infecting your brain was all too much.

“S-stop, Sukuna…it hurts.” You say hoping it’ll convince him to ease up at the very least as you squirm against his hands groping your chest.

“You’re so fucking fragile. I’m barely even squeezing them.”

“Well they’re already sore because I’m-” You hesitate for some reason. “..on my period.”

His movements pause and relief washes over you.

“I know.”

And just like that your stomach is up in knots again. “Huh?”

Suddenly the heat of his body against yours dissipates as he gets up from the bed before peeling back the layers of your blanket.

You’re about to protest when you catch a look at his expression, a wolfish grin plastered on his face that was visible even in the faint moonlight.

Before you know it his hands are gripping your ankles, pulling you unceremoniously to the edge of the bed where he kneels by it on the ground.

“Sukuna? Stop it, what are you doing?” You whisper frantically trying to keep your voice quiet despite the growing panic at being unable to do anything but flail about helplessly in the sheets.

“Consider this another gift, princess. I’m gonna show you how a real man eats so that my little sis never settles for anything less from another man.”

“Eats? You can’t possibly mean-”

Oh, but clearly that was exactly what he meant, judging from how he was gripping the waistband of your pajamas to tug them down.

“Sukuna. I’m on my period, please not now, please can’t we do this after or something?” You realize you’re already crying as you desperately try to reason with him. “You won’t like the taste, it’s gross-”

More tears well in your eyes as you watch his sinister smile grow wider as he drinks in your disheveled state, begging him not to. “You clearly don’t know my tastes then.”

He yanks down your pajamas, dragging the waistband of your panties with it as you twist to stop him from taking them off.

He growls in agitation. “Stop making this difficult or I swear to god I’ll get scissors and cut these clothes off you.”

You still, meeting his eyes that somehow look redder than ever right now, almost as if they were glowing.

He smiles as he pulls your clothing all the way down your legs, removing them and tossing your pajamas along with your panties and the pad on it to the side. “There you go. Just lay back and let your big brother make you feel good, okay?”

You shiver at his words, aware he was trying and succeeding at making you as uncomfortable about this as possible.

Cool air brushes over your wet pussy as he spreads your legs to hook them over his shoulders, drawing your awareness to your vulnerable position. Your screw your eyes shut so you don’t have to see his as he drinks in the sight over your bare and bleeding cunt. It was your first time being seen with anyone, the feeling of being so exposed like this making a potent mixture of humiliation and shame burn in you.

And you thought it couldn’t get worse than the last time.

“Open your eyes.”

Your lids flutter open at his voice, unexpectedly soft , though it still held a firm edge.

“There you go.”

You grip your sheets as you watch him lean in, realizing your clit was already throbbing in anticipation at the feel of his tongue.

The flat of his tongue presses against your clit and you gasp.

The feeling was even better than you’d imagined - soft, wet and hot. Not to mention you'd forgotten entirely about that piercing on his tongue- you'd never really noticed it till now and as the cold metal ball catches against your clit you realize the reason he probably got it.

Your fingers twist the sheets into fists as he licks a long stripe up from your sopping hole back up to your clit before latching his open mouth all the way on your pussy.

His eyes are piercing through you as you hold your breath when you feel a tongue slithering into your entrance, tasting the mixture of blood and juices. A low groan vibrates from his throat as his lids relax and his tongue slides back out and he pulls away, dark red staining his lips as they curl into a smirk.

“Oh, you taste even better than I expected.” He leans closer, voice dropping with some sinister intent. “So good that I think you deserve to know what your cunt tastes like too.”

Your eyes widen as he bends in over you. “No-”

Wet lips are already crashing onto yours, swallowing your denial as his tongue pries its way through your lips and teeth. The sharp taste of yourself coated your tastebuds all at once - salty, warm, and metallic - making you cringe and try to break the kiss, if you could even call it that.

Sukuna’s tongue is pervasive, exploring the crevices of your mouth with a domineering harshness before finally pulling away, snapping tiny gossamer threads of saliva between the two of you.

“That was ….disgusting. What is wrong with you?!” You pant, trying to scrape off the taste from your tongue against your teeth.

He giggles, a low sound that makes your hairs stand up. “I’m gonna teach you to love ‘disgusting’.”

You look at him in horror before peeling away your eyes to the door frame, listening closely to make sure the house was still quiet.

You would never be able to recover from being caught in this position.

Sukuna lowers himself and grips your hips, latching his mouth back onto your pussy and staring directly up into your eyes as his tongue begins to lap at your damp folds, dragging through them to collect all the juices and swallow. You stare at him with wide-eyes, completely enraptured by this incredible sensation, wondering how you’d gone without it for so long.

You’re already barely holding yourself together when he starts licking your swollen clit, the hard metal of his piercing rubbing over and over against it, blending deliciously with the warmth of his wet tongue.

You cover your mouth with your hand, trying to hold in the feverish moans that were rising from your chest. He notices, narrowing his eyes and increasing his pace, sucking and caressing the sensitive bundle of nerves till you’re biting down on your palm even though small whimpers still make their way out.

Every small flick of his tongue feels like jolts of lightning from your most sensitive spot and you don’t even realize you’re lifting your hips up higher, pressing your pussy into his mouth for more.

He stops for a second, removing his mouth to eye the wet mess he’d already made of your cunt. The sudden dissolving of pleasure from his tongue was almost painful, eliciting a frustrated noise from you as you looked up at him desperately.

“Feel good?” He asks, obviously taunting you like he didn’t already know the answer and just wanted to hear you say it.

“Fucking— yes, it feels good.” You grit out, impatiently trying to lift your pussy back to his lips. “Keep going.”

“What’s the magic word?”

You clench your jaw, the pure neediness of your cunt straining against the agitation bubbling on your face. "Are you fucking seriou-"

You’re not given a chance to even try and fight back when he parts his lips ever so slightly and breathes out, the tendrils of his breath cool against your wet folds as it almost spelled out how swollen your clit was, coated in slick and saliva.

The feather-light sensation was too much, snapping the last threads of control leaving you thinking only through your agonizingly aroused cunt.

“Oh f-fuck, please Sukuna,” You whined. “Please make me c-cum.”

He chuckles and you sigh in relief at the addicting heat of his lips clamping back around your sex, watching intently as you begin to unravel with every careful move of his tongue. Lewd, sloppy noises fill the room and normally you’d be nervous about someone possibly waking up and hearing him slurping your pussy, but you’re too far gone, squeezing your thighs around his head instead.

You watch him through the tears filling your eyes as you feel your orgasm begin to build up - slowly and heavily. He looks like nothing short of a monster, hungrily devouring you and the fresh blood leaking out, the sight of his head between your thighs and on your pussy only pushing your orgasm towards you with increasing intensity.

And before you know it you’re falling, drowning in the waves of pleasure rippling through you so strongly that your mouth is open in awe, soft moans burying into the flesh of your palm with tears rolling down your cheeks. Sukuna doesn’t let up, leading you through your orgasm with his mouth and even when you feel yourself start to come down his pace and pressure don’t decrease.

“S-Sukuna, I came.” You try to pull your hips away but he grips you tightly, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips.

Even with his mouth occupied you can see the glint in his eyes, smirking as his tongue continues its relentless assault on your sensitive clit. He changes up the pace and you whimper as he begins sucking on it, overstimulation drawing fresh tears at your lash line.

“Sukuna, ‘s too much - ah - , s-stop,” You try to draw your hips back from discomfort but he tightens his grip with an almost painful pressure, pulling you closer into his mouth till you feel the bolts of pleasure igniting again at your clit.

His tongue goes back to stimulating it with increasing intensity as you feel your second orgasm begin to build.

“Oh god-” You tilt your pelvis up as the heat grows and grows until your fingers find their way into his hair, gripping the messy strands as you lift your hips and pull his head as tightly as you can into your pussy. “Fuck, fuck, oh my fucking-”

Your second orgasm crashes into you abruptly and without warning, leaving you breathless after it dissipates. His tongue slows down into slow languid strokes before stopping entirely and unlatching his mouth while you catch your breath. Sukuna’s face is shining, covered in juices and blood that you can feel running down from your entrance to your ass.

Your hole clenches, the need for your g-spot to be stimulated growing imminent now that you were sufficiently prepped from not one but two clitoral orgasms.

His eyes drag down to the movement and he smirks, licking his lips to clean them off. “Need something, pet?”

You try to close your thighs, only making him spread them wider as your post-nut clarity washes over you like a bucket of icy water being dumped on you.

“No. Let me go before I fucking scream for mom and dad.”

You can take care of yourself with your own fingers after he’s gone.

That smug look on his face doesn’t budge at your threat.

“You’re not gonna do that.” He tells you coolly.

“Fucking let me go-”

You’re about to try and kick him in the face when he slides a finger into your dripping entrance, curling it up to massage that spongy area of tissue that made your mind go blank and all the words melt off of your tongue in favor of an involuntary moan.

You look at him through glazed eyes, mouth parted as he rubs into your flesh, a new type of pleasure blooming and taking hold.

“You’re such a stupid slut.” He sneers, rubbing a finger against your sensitive walls before harshly shoving in another finger. “Don’t ever try those empty threats with me, you dumb little girl.”

“Ahh” You bite down on your lip, ashamed at how you melted into putty under his touch till the point even his demeaning words only fueled the pleasure.

“I bet your fingers never felt as good as mine do, huh?” With the way his fingers are positioned, you can start to feel the edges of his nails scraping against the tender flesh.

“N-no, oh fuck,” You babble mindlessly, all composure falling away with the steady pressure of his fingers against your walls being exacerbated by the stinging of those dark nails inside you. “No they don’t, Sukuna-”

“You like this you sick little slut?” His fingers begin pistoning up into you at a new angle, the sudden change of pace causing fresh moans to spill out of you, the wet sounds of crimson-stained fluids so messy and erratic you already know these sheets will be permanently stained.

“Y-yes, -nhgh- love it, I love it-”

Love it?

You were entirely out of your mind, even Sukuna knew by now if it wasn’t already clear from your watery and dazed eyes, the sweat clinging to your skin, how every muscle in your body was tensed up, the amount of wetness coating his fingers that couldn’t be just blood.

“This is really all it took for you to give in? Fuck, your virgin cunt must’ve been so miserable.” He curves his fingers up even more against your gummy walls now plushy and inflamed from how hard he’s finger fucking you with nails cutting themselves into the flesh. “Say it. Say that you’re pathetic.”

“Ah-” You bite in a yelp, vision blurry and eyes stinging from tears, only able to feel his fingers thrusting aggressively into you, the pleasure threaded with pain and a brand new wave of humiliation at his biting words as if you weren’t already mortified by how much your body apparently loved this. “P-please, Sukuna-”

“Say it.” He spits on your pussy, the wet wad of spit catching on your clit, making you whimper at the visceral sensation. “Say you’re my pathetic little plaything.”

His sadistic gaze burns into you and with the building pressure between your legs you feel like you’re being compelled.

“I’m your p-pathetic, -ah- little plaything S-Sukuna,”

“Yeah? Still wanna call Mom and Dad? Have them see you cumming all over your big brother’s fingers like a filthy bitch?”

The words are like a match striking something in you and you moan so loudly that Sukuna leans over to clamp his other palm over your mouth, so close you can see the faint striated pattern in his blazing irises.

“Go on, then. Show me how much you love this.”

With that, hot liquid rushes out of you as you cum, seeping uncontrollably from your walls and gushing around his fingers and splattering out as he continues to drive them into you, juicing every last drop of your orgasm.

You come down, his hand over the lower half of your face lifting when your muffled moans become pants for air. Every muscle in your body is tired from being tensed and you bite your lip from the sharp pain when he pulls his fingers out from your abused cunt. Your walls are tighter than before, inflamed and puffy from the battering of his fingers. There’s a dull soreness, but at least the pain in your womb has subsided for now.

Sukuna lifts his fingers, admiring the mess of smeared blood, fluids, and tiny stringy bits of soft flesh clinging onto his nails. You gulp as he looks at you, scared he’s going to put them in your mouth to make you taste yourself.

“Please, don’t.”

He flashes you a cocky smile, clearly pleased at the apprehension he’d instilled in you before licking his fingers clean. You watch in repulsion, suddenly aware of the mess that was left on your skin and sheets and slide your legs back down to close yourself up from his view.

And of course with it was a growing disgust with what had just happened and how much you’d liked it.

Loved it.

You cringe, unable to be in Sukuna’s presence after humiliating yourself and coming undone like that in front of him, at his hands.

“I n-need to cleanup…” You mutter keeping your eyes trained on the dark ceiling above you, voice breaking as the weight of everything begins to come down on you.

“Good luck with that,” He replies indifferently as he stands. “You’re definitely gonna need new sheets.” Your heart tightens as you feel him moving around the side of the bed to stand beside you and bend down. “Goodnight, sis.” He presses a mockingly chaste kiss on your forehead with the lips that had just been eating out your pussy, leaving your stomach lurching and wanting to gag as he pulls away and walks out the door, once again leaving you in both physical and mental shambles.

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

hi hi ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢ ☀︎︎

Can I request a lil ficlet please 🥹

I would like the following prompt: Cuddling before falling asleep in your arms with their lips parted so you give them a peck

But but can I add secret relationship trope and they’re in the BAU jet?

PS: your fics are just amazing and I love them.

Cuddles and Cameras - Spencer Reid x GN Reader (Fluff w Fade to Black)

Spencer practically dragged me across the threshold to the hotel room. His hand, ready to hold me, reached out into the dark hotel room. I flipped up the light and was pushed up against the wall before I could even kick off my shoes.

"Ooof! Spence!" I shouted, my voice soon muffled by Spencer's lips.

"Sorry, baby..." Kiss on the lips Kiss on bottom lip. Kiss on the top. Kiss on the lips. "I couldn't help myself. It's hard for me to have to stay on good behavior."

I chuckled, my hands reaching up to tug Spencer's hair. He smiled, letting me kiss his neck and down to his collarbone. I grinned as I kissed Spencer. His skin was practically shivering from holding himself back.

"Yeah? I didn't think that I was tempting."

Spencer rolled his eyes, his mouth hovering above my in an upturn smirk. His eyes danced with playfulness as he watched me.

"You have no idea how hard it's to keep us a secret." He whispers. I licked my lips and felt the ghost of Spencer's lips against mine. I was tired of clinging to this small, secret, hidden touches. I wanted him in daylight, not under the covers.

Spencer tugged down my windbreaker, leaving me in the stiff work clothes. "I am putting on PJs right away." I announced.

"It's fine, sweetheart. I wasn't planning on letting you be dressed for much longer."

"Sex then room service?"

Spencer knelt on the bad, grabbing me by the waist. He took my cheeks into his palms and brought me so close. His skin was fire against my cheeks. And then he kissed me.

Kissing Spencer was like breathing. I needed it like I needed water. I drank him in, reeling in the way his mouth molded to mine. Against me, Spencer was liquid heat, quick and malleable.

We stopped, Spencer catching his breath and me slowing the pounding of my heart.

"Perfect." I whispered, kissing Spencer again and pushing him down onto the bed. I wasn't sure if I took off his shirt first or if he took my off my pants. It didn't matter who peel away the first item of clothing, I had never bared my soul more than to anyone besides him. Never stood more naked than I did with my clothes on than I did with Spencer Reid.

After that night in the hotel it seemed like something between us shifted. For a while now, we danced in that limbo. I knew that I loved Spencer. And Spencer knew that he loved me. And we both knew what the other knew.

Yet, I had to contain myself as we sat next to each other on the jet. Spencer had already started and finished two books. I, on the other hand, did not finish anyway near two books. I couldn't even read a single sentence without my mind wondering.

And I knew Spencer well enough to understand that he probably felt similar. Two books in about 4 hours is akin to my measly half a paragraph in Spencer's eyes.

"They're sleeping." Spencer said. He didn't look up from his book. "Hotch is facing the same way as us. He can't see us. And even if he did....I don't care."

I don't care.

God. How I wished to have heard that for the last couple of months? Instantly, I folded myself into Spencer. He sat with his legs out stretched straight on the jet seats. I laid between his legs with my side cushioned against his front. Spencer laid the blanket on top of us and when his arms wrapped around my torso, I melted.

As good as he was a sex, Spencer was between during the moments after. He was incredibly sweet. We both hated the mess that came with it so nearly nine months into our relationship we had our after routine completely memorized.

"This is nice." Spencer whispered. He breathed my scent; between staying at each other's places a couple days a week each we started just use each other's products.

"It is."

He kissed the top of my head. "Go to sleep."

"You, too." I countered. "Don't let me make your leg numb." I requested, shifting so I wouldn't hurt him.

"It's fine, babe. Just move up, I want to be able to see your face anyway."

I scooted up, shifting so Spencer and I were face to face. We were so close that I could feel the shadow of his smile. I eclipsed it with my own. He kissed my forehead and I, in moment of sleepless delusion leaned further and kissed him. It wasn't a polite kiss. It was the sort of kiss that is hidden in hotel rooms, shelved away from nosy coworkers and professional regulations. It was the kind of kiss that made me see the world in full color.

How would I go back to black and white. If I had to choose, then I would choose Spencer, hidden, but in Technicolor.

We must've fallen asleep soon after because the next thing I remember was blinding white flash. My eyes were shut, but the flash of white was enough to pull me from a sleep. Spencer's arms didn't release me so he was still sleeping.

"Morgan...?" I croaked. The image before me cleared up. Derek Morgan's white smile beamed. He practically was flashing me and Spencer's cuddled forms his dazzling pearly whites.

"Penny G!" His voiced sounded positively delighted. I sat up and realized that the flash of white was an old crime scene camera. Why that was still included in our packs when the Bureau went digital two years go, was beyond my job role.

"Did you take a picture of us!?" I shrieked, breaking free of Spencer's grip and leaping from the seats. "Derek! Is that the picture! Derek!" Spencer must've woken up somewhere in between me screaming and shouting.

The rest of the team, notably our boss, Hotch's head snapped up.

"Morgan! Y/L/N!"

"It's okay." Spencer's hand rested on my shoulder.

We backed down, hearing the stunning level of "dad" in Hotch's voice. Morgan dropped the picture against my lap. It was one of the photographs that you could see the image almost right away. Slowly, an image of Spencer and I appeared, sleeping and intertwined. Our faces were so close that our lips nearly touched.

Emily and JJ exchanged glances that said more than words could ever. Morgan's eyes shifted from mine to Spencer's as he figured that this wasn't the first time we had feel asleep like this.

"You two. My office, but Monday. I'm too tired to deal with this, even though we all knew." Hotch explained. He shut his computer, decidedly finished with work for the day. His eyes closed as he got as comfortable as one could still wearing a suit and tie.

"Penelope is going to be heartbroken." JJ said, loud enough for the entire jet to hear. I felt my heart drop into the pit of my stomach. Spencer and I didn't similar like a weird notation. There wasn't a time in my life that felt more right and I felt more like myself than the time I've been with Spencer.

"JJ-" Spencer started. Derek's eyebrows narrowed and even Hotch opened a single eye. Emily practically backed away. Clearly the entire team was Team Us. Spencer's thumb brushed against my lower back.

"She's not gonna know whose side of the weeding ceremony to sit on."

[megtrns]

how to take care of your human 101 : a psa brought to you by the lost light crew. first contact au. sfw! with slight mentions of nudity.

a/n : to preface this, it was seven am in the morning and i was supposed to catch a train in about an hour or so to go out of town alone for an errand. but as i was putting on my skincare, i began to feel so overwhelmed that i started crawling back under the covers mid-makeup. and for the first time in what i think is forever, i woke up at noon, disoriented with powder smudging my pillows. and there was just a different kind of misery to look down at my phone to realise that not only did i miss my train, but half the day was gone. but then my flatmate came and told me i put too much pressure on myself, and suddenly it clicked on me. it's always a reality check when someone you care about tells you to your face that you've been pushing yourself too hard. this made me wonder how the bots would intervene when it was obvious that their human needed a mental health break.

ratchet suspiciously eying the young medic drifting down the halls of the sickbay like a wayward ghost: with sunken eyes and sluggish movements, running on what he assumed was a quarter of your designated sleep cycle. the last straw was when he caught you asleep at a broom closet, waking up in a panic and apologizing as if it wasn't his fault for assigning you the same shifts as the others, all of whom were part of a non-organic species that could run on an empty tank for months if needed.

feeling guilty, the cmo offered to send you home. you were stubbornly resisting until he said something along the lines of 'paid leave.' that was enough to send you skipping into the parking lot so you could nosedive into your bed. when you returned after the weekend, with a pep in your step and a smile across your face, first aid had wondered aloud that he didn't know humans could glow.

minimus would take it upon himself to run you a bath, lowering himself into the bathtub so your back could rest against his chassis, knees bent and legs intertwined with his. the water is warm and welcoming, sloshing onto the tiled floor as he adjusts himself to hug you from behind. here, in the blissful silence, the bathroom was wet with steam; the precipitation clinging onto the glass of his optics, creating a lazy, unhurried atmosphere that lulled him to the edge of recharge. he listens to the sound of your breathing, slow and calm as you doze off. and he would smile fondly at the sight of your resting, knowing that this was much needed for the both of you.

rodimus, mass displaced and laughing, standing under the pouring water of your shower. he makes the stall feel crowded, but you don't mind, dangling both arms around his neck as the captain washes your hair — skin to metal, hip to hip. he said something about how he loves the smell of flowers in your hair, servos firm yet gentle as they cradle your head. he wiped the soap dripping down your brow, peppering kisses all over your face to keep you awake. but you were drowning in bliss, content and lazy, thankful for his help and enthusiasm during the days when you couldn't even take care of yourself.

drift cleverly working his servos across your shoulders, down the curve of your neck to the base of your spine. already you can feel the muscles loosening, the strain from sitting too long, melting away under his ministrations. you were also in awe at how much control he wielded, precise and careful, never once hurting you with too much force. it was hard to believe that these were the same set of servos that struck fear into the sparks of so many mechs. as he presses a soft kiss in the square of your back, you can only sigh in delight against the pillow — putty in his arms and already drifting to a dreamless sleep.

ambulon would blearily open his optics to the yellow glow of the bathroom light pouring into the peaceful darkness of the room, recharge interrupted by soft noises. he slowly peels the soft blankets away from his frame to creep to the sound of your movements, the sight of you dressing before the sun has barely risen, tugging at his sparkstrings. he is aware humans need at least eight to nine hours of rest, and yet with less than six, his lover is already by the bathroom mirror repeating the same, tiring routine every week. one might think that his past as a decepticon and medic working in the lost light would make him a senseless partner, but it was quite the opposite, ambulon would give you the world if you asked. but maybe the closest thing you need now is a day to yourself.

so when you come home that day to the apartment spotless, the smell of fresh linen in the air and the sound of something delicious sizzling atop the pan; you can't help but cry by the doorway, your boyfriend nearly dropping the glass of high-grade he was casually sipping to rush to hug you — "are these happy, human tears? oh, okay, that's good. that's good."

swerve discovering that your birthday is coming up but you have no plans to celebrate it, too busy and too tired from the long weekday. the minibot wasn't too happy about this, deciding that he was going to fix it before the special date rolls around. this is how you find yourself walking into a surprise party, with candles and cakes and decorations dangling from the ceiling. you had screamed in delight at the sound of the confetti going off, immediately throwing yourself in the arms of your friend, rounds of laughter echoing in the room where all your giant friends have gathered to celebrate your coming into existence.

whirl noticing how the days you spend together have grown shorter and shorter each passing day, with you either rushing off to finish a deadline or already dressed to eat dinner with your new co-workers. the ex-wrecker insists he isn't jealous, no, of course not — he just hates sitting by the couch watching the clock tick away, unable to focus on his earth shows because you were always coming home so late.

so when whirl stopped you from putting your shoes on one morning to tell you that he had called your workplace to say you needed some time to yourself, you were struck by his thoughtfulness; feeling guilty that you never considered that whirl could do something so sweet. until you switch on the tv to hear the news anchor announce that the police needed help to identify an anonymous caller who had sent a bomb threat earlier this morning to your office. he says it was obvious that he wasn't going to do it — "what? i thought you needed the day off, sweetspark? it worked didn't it?"

you didn't know whether to be flattered or to call prowl and the local precinct that the search was over.

[ohbo-ohno]

Okay but *gulp* soap with his dick slipping out and accidentally pressing into the wrong hole. Doesn’t stop him from continuing tho

listen LISTEN listen - yeah!! soap is 100% the kind of asshole to do this!!

1.7k soap x f!reader "wrong hole" drabble 🫶 (cw: pwp smut, noncon anal sex between partners (also unrealistic anal sex), pussy drunk johnny)

You arch further into Johnny, slick skin sliding along slick skin as your mouth drops open on a moan.

“Jo-Johnny,” you pant, gripping tightly to his broad shoulders. “Feels ssooo- so good.”

“Yeah?” He grunts from above you, mohawk messy and dripping sweat. “Bet it- bet it feels big, huh?”

You whine, pushing your hips closer to him as he slams home inside of you. “So big,” you agree, your mind draining from you slowly as he pulls nearly the entire way out on every thrust, leaving you almost empty before filling you to the brim. “God, you’re so good, Johnny.”

“Fuck, yes,” he pants, arms wrapping around your back and squeezing you tight to him. Your hips are pushed a little further up, a little closer to him. You wrap both your legs around his waist, hold him as tight as he does you. He only manages to keep up his rhythm through pure strength, easily able to overpower your grip.

“So good,” he mimics, eyes squeezed shut. You can’t look away from him - the sweat dripping down the side of his tanned face, the wrinkles and scars decorating his skin, the way he looks like he’s either in agony or euphoria. “Feel so perfect, so tight. Fuck, missed you so much, lass, missed your perfect cunt.”

Your eyes nearly roll back in your head when he hits the perfect spot inside of you, body limp in his arms. You feel almost like a doll, like a toy for him to fuck, but he’s so good at it that you can’t even begin to care.

The both of you devolve into moans, occasionally trying to speak and choking on your words. You might feel embarrassed of what a mess Johnny’s made of you, if he weren’t in the same condition.

He pulls out completely on several thrusts in a row, both of you gasping at the sensation - you, because it’s a shock to go from nothing to everything completely and him, because every thrust inside of you when he’s pulled all the way out feels like the first. You dig your nails into his muscles, pushing your chest against his for all the physical contact you can manage.

It happens too quickly for you to even really notice. One second Johnny is rearranging your guts, giving you the best dick of your life, and the next you feel like you’re being torn in two.

You nearly scream, eyes flying open and nails dragging down his back, peeling skin off. Johnny’s loud groan drowns you out almost entirely, and he doesn’t seem to notice what he’s done.

You notice. Your unstretched ass feels like it’s on fire, and after your first sound of shock you can’t get enough breath in to try and say it hurts. 

Johnny can’t thrust the whole way in, like he had in your pussy. Your body gives him too much resistance, which is what finally makes him realize.

You’re nearly blinded by the tears filling your eyes when he finally blinks open, staring down at you.

“Holy shit,” he breathes, and you can feel his heart racing against your chest. “Did I-? Am I in your-?”

“Pull out,” you gasp, tapping at his back desperately. “Oh my god, Johnny, pull out, I can’t- fuck, you’re too big.”

That’s the wrong thing to say - instead of pulling out, he groans, dropping his forehead to yours and letting his eyes fall shut again. You let out a long, high whine when his hips push forward, slowly spearing you further and further on his cock.

You’re made mute by the pain, left only with your nails as defense as you try and tear his back to shreds. You should know better, though - Johnny’s a masochist, and pain you inflict only drives him more insane.

“God, you’re fuckin’ stranglin’ me,” he pants, pulling out just enough to force himself a few inches deeper. “Thought your cunt was tight, but it’s nothin’ compared to this.”

“Johnny- please.”

“So fucking warm.” He looks nearly delirious above you, pupils blown so wide you can barely see his iris even as close as you are. “Tight.”

“Johnny,” you whine, even as the slide becomes a little bit easier from all the slick dripping from your cunt. “Hurts, please, you gotta… gotta stop.”

He makes a sound that’s somewhere between soothing and a snarl, a low sound that makes you instinctually arch further towards him and then yelp when that gives him more leverage.

“You’re fine,” he comforts - well, the words should be a comfort but his tone is almost dismissive. “You’re wet, I can feel it.”

“Not enough,” you cry, half choking on a sob when you feel him finally bottom out inside of you. “Ok, ok, please pull- pull out, Johnny.”

“But you feel so good,” he purrs, butting his nose against your temple. “Fuckin’ hot little ass, huh lass? You’re squeezin’ me so good, you sure you want me to pull out?”

“Yes!”

You feel the sharp smile pressed against your temple and hiccup a sob, shifting your legs so that instead of wrapping around him you’re trying to push him away. But he’s too strong for you to make him move, and he only shoves himself even further inside of you by leaning his weight forward.

“I think you’re lying,” he almost sings, grinding his hips deep inside of you. He shifts briefly, holding himself above you on one arm and sneaking the other between your bodies and down to your pussy.

You cry out when his fingers work quickly at your clit, tight fast circle that have you shaking and moaning. It’s almost enough to drown out the pain of having your back hole stretched so ruthlessly - almost.

“Here,” he says, dipping his hand down a little further to almost scoop the slick dripping from you, smearing it around your plugged hole like he’s trying to make up for the lack of lube in the first place. He pulls out about halfway, thrusting back in and moaning when you cry out. “Th-there, how’s that feel?”

“Still hurts,” you manage to get out through your sobs, eyes squeezed shut against the pain.

Johnny’s panting like a dog above you as he starts to fuck you again, his pace sharper and uncaring about your sensitivity. You can’t help but clench down, your inner muscles squeezing tight in an attempt to push him out that only drags him further in. 

You can’t do anything but lay there and take it - as he moans repeatedly into your ear - while he fucks you. The pain eases after a bit, your own wetness making the path at least slightly easier, but the sharp sting never fully dissipates. Your tears don’t dry up, and you’re nowhere close to the orgasm that had been building before.

Johnny’s your complete opposite - he’s lost in his own pleasure, and your desperate scratches down his back only make things better for him. If you’d thought he was euphoric before, he looks like he’s found Nirvana now. You’re not sure if he’s so wrapped up in his own pleasure that he can’t hear your pain, or if your pain is what’s driving him more and more insane with pleasure.

For your own sake, you pray it’s the first.

He doesn’t last long - thank God - and only a few minutes later his thrusts get choppier and choppier, jerking in and out of you without any rhythm at all.

“Gonna make me come, bonnie, fuck.”

You can only stare wide-eyed at the ceiling as Johnny buries his face in the crook of your neck and comes deep inside of your ass, the hot spurt of his come a distant sensation with the stretch of his cock still at the front of your mind.

“Alright, alright, pull… pull out now, Johnny, please,” you beg again, too shell-shocked to even flinch at the embarrassing crack in your voice.

He obeys wordlessly, pulling his limp cock out slowly enough to make you whine when he finally leaves you empty.

“Hush, hush,” he quiets you, pressing a kiss to your cheekbone and brushing over your spread hole with his fingers. You jolt and whine, turning to press your face into his sweat-soaked mohawk. “You’re alright, didn’t even tear.”

“You-you sure?” You sniffle.

He chuckles a little, the sound vibrating through your chests. “Yeah, you’re alright, lass. Didn’t think I would really hurt you, did’ya?”

You can only whine.

His fingers dip inside your back hole just long enough to drag out some of his come, moving up to shove it inside of your pussy.

“There ya go,” he soothes, repeating the process again and again. “Still got a nice load in your guts, you're alright." His fingers lift to your clit, rubbing in perfect circles to make you arch and gasp, squirming for more pleasure despite the growing ache in your other hole.

He brings you to a slow orgasm, one that has the last of your tears dripping down your cheeks and clinging to his shoulders like a life raft. Your breaths are uneven, heartbeat quick in your chest, and you feel fuzzy around the edges.

Unlike usual, Johnny stops at one orgasm. You almost expect him to keep going like he always does, never satisfied with less than three for you and two for him, but he pulls his hand away after your first pained whines start again.

He doesn’t get off of you, letting his weight push you deeper and deeper into the couch cushions. You wrap your arms around his neck, holding him close to you and breathing in his musk. It takes a while to get your breathing even again, though Johnny’s levels out in moments.

You only let your eyes close once his snores start up, loud in your ear. The rumbling of his chest is a comfort, and you float into sleep with Johnny’s sweaty body pressed firmly against every part of yours, and the ache in your ass only growing more noticeable with every breath.

[pankowperfection]

His to Keep

Warnings: slightly dark JJ, branding, oral (f receiving), possessive JJ, 18+

A/N: haven't written anything in a while so please be nice. Unedited

You'd hurried to keep up with him as he ran away from the council meeting, the intent to cause some trouble clear in his eyes. You knew you shouldn't leave him alone which is why you found yourself standing idly by, watching in equal parts awe and horror as he took his rage out.

You'd never seen him like this, so reckless and angry. You hated to admit it but a very small part of you was extremely turned on at the sight of him losing control.

After what felt like hours you had finally convinced him to head to your secret hide out, the perfect spot to lay low until the heat died down.

He was pacing back and forth, clearly still extremely upset about what had gone down.

"I am just so sick of this shit y/n. I never get to keep anything, it all always manages to slip right through my fingers."

He still had that wild look in his eyes. Sweat coating his tan skin, hair perfectly messy. He'd honestly never looked sexier.

"That's not true J and you know it," you attempt to reason with him. "Just look. I'm still here and I'm not going anywhere."

He gives you a dark chuckle, shadows dancing in his blue eyes in a way that makes him look nothing like the care-free surfer boy you were used to dealing with.

"Right. I'm sure it's just a matter of time before you leave too. Everyone always does."

He turns his back to you, leaning into the window frame and watching for any signs of trouble below. The way his shirt is clinging to his muscular back has your thoughts racing, desperate to find a way to calm him down.

An idea starts to form in the back of your mind, the image of him with the flame from the lighter dancing in his eyes flickering through your head, reminding you of the heat that had flushed through your system while you watched him take his own twisted sense of justice.

"I'm not going anywhere JJ. Let me prove it to you."

You quickly walk over to him, fishing around in his pocket before finding the lighter. You can see the questions dancing through his mind, wondering what you could possibly be up to. You hold it up between the two of you, knowing what you need to do to prove your loyalty.

"Mark me. Brand me with your ring so that everyone knows that I belong to you. That you own me. Permanently."

His pupils dilate, the black almost overtaking the blue as he scans your face for any kind of uncertainty. When he doesn't find any you watch the hunger take over. His lips are on you in an instant, tongue tracing the seam of your lips before demanding entry as he walks you back to the couch.

He quickly comes down on top of you, one hand tangling in your hair to angle your head just how he wants. His mouth leaves a blazing path down the column of your throat, nipping and sucking deep bruises into your skin. You know your panties are ruined, a few kisses from JJ and you could already feel the band tightening in your core.

"Fuck J, feels so good. I need you."

You feel him smirk against your skin, making quick work of your flimsy crop top to continue his handiwork. Each breast gets equal attention, teasing licks and kisses over your nipples before he sucks harshly, bruises forming instantly from the intense pressure. The build up has you babbling nonsense, begging him to please do something.

"Such a good girl f'me y/n," he whispers into your ear, his ringed fingers slowly climbing up the sensitive skin over the inside of your thigh. The cool metal makes you shiver, goosebumps spreading as he starts to slide down your body. Your knees part for him on instinct, hips arching up in search of the friction you desperately need.

He peels your shorts and panties off in one smooth motion, settling onto his knees between your parted legs. His broad shoulders pin you in place, not a single chance of getting away which only makes you wetter. You're unable to look away as his mouth trails up higher and higher, his warm breath tickling your aching pussy.

Without breaking eye contact he slides his signature ring off his finger, holding it with the end of his shirt before holding it in the flame from the lighter. The sight itself is enough to have you clenching around nothing, the warm colors from the flames bathing his tan skin in an orange glow.

"Eyes on me sweetheart," he commands, leaning down to lick an agonizingly slow stripe from your hole to your clit. Your body trembles at the simple touch, bolts of pleasure shooting straight to your pussy.

He wastes no time getting to work, his skilled tongue knowing just how to drive you crazy. The flattened surface of his tongue flicking over your clit has your eyes threatening to roll, legs starting to shake with how close to your release you are already.

At the exact right moment he presses the hot metal into the skin of your inner thigh. His free hand joins the mix, two fingers roughly thrusting into you. The pleasure mixed with the pain sends you right over the edge, falling apart with a scream as you watch him brand you.

The way his eyes are glued to his mark on your skin is one of the hottest things you've ever seen. His breathing is almost as ragged as yours, the tent in his shorts a tell tale sign of just how much he enjoyed marking you as his. By the feral look in his eyes you knew the night was far from over, hoping you had enough energy to show him just how devoted you are to being his.

[rindreamery]

HI NISHIIII, for the event can I get kaiser with spicy, 🍮 and rivals to lovers ? 🍮 THANK U 😼

ORDER 10: READY TO GO !

kaiser + spicy + eye contact + rivals to lovers w.c. 1k+

note. this is for you, no.1 kaiser kisser 🤭 it literally took everything in me (fighting my demons) not to spoil the story for you cus i am a chronic yapper, and i tell you basically everything i write LMAO

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your team would probably shun you if they saw you right now— fraternizing, if you could even call it that, with the enemy. 

you can’t find it in you to blame them, reminding yourself of what position you’d been in, just ten minutes prior. the score on the big screen read 3:2, bright and bold and red, and mocking you— no, mocking your team. the tangible, irrefutable proof that your team had just suffered one of its most devastating losses of the season. you remind yourself of the way their shoulders quivered, the way they all turned away from one another, as they tried to process this grief on their own. you think that you probably should’ve felt numb, that your ears should’ve been ringing as the cheers of the stadium droned on and on, and that you should’ve felt the crushing weight of the loss that your team had just suffered. that as their manager, who had seen them through their highs and lows, it was also your duty to feel what they do. 

and yet, there you were, blatantly ogling the man who stood in the center of the field; gloating in his victory, accepting the praises that rained on him, all while staring right at you too. kaiser always makes a show out of it, always making sure your eyes are locked onto him as he lifts his shirt— fingers gripping the hem of his jersey as he pulls the fabric up, to dab at the sweat that lines the crown of his forehead, exposing his glistening skin and the way the sweat rolls off the ridges of his abs. 

you know he finds entertainment in the way your eyes travel down, almost instinctively, trailing the singular drop of sweat that rolls down the line of his body, before your eyes snap back up. he’s smug, irritatingly so, and all too aware of the fact that you could not rip your eyes away from him. he does this, every time; you fall for it, every time. 

it’s like a trance, and the shame you feel after is overwhelming. only then do you find yourself walking away, back to the tunnel and the hallways of the stadium, trying to bury the shame and the image of his body into the depths of your mind.

but, like everything else with kaiser, he never makes it easy to forget him. he's always hot on your heels, lingering around you, reminding you of his presence. to rub in his win, or for something else, you're never really sure.

"you know, it hurts me that you always avoid me after.” you freeze, every muscle in your body tensing at the familiar sound of kaiser’s voice. he’s standing there, leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. he still hasn’t changed out of his jersey, skin still glistening with sweat, and chest heaving— ignoring the way the rest of his team walks off into the locker rooms without him. “can’t stand being close to me after a win? or is it something else that’s got you all riled up?"

your stomach churns at the insinuation, and despite yourself, your body betrays you— your head turns to face him, eyes flicking to glance at him, and catching his gaze. but the feeling is short-lived, and you peel your eyes away from him almost immediately, finding faux fascination in the clipboard in your hands. “i’m not sure i’m catching your drift,” you lie. 

the scoff under his breath is hard to miss, with the way the sound slightly echoes in the, now empty, hallways. you hear everything in here— the rustle of his jersey as he unfurls his arms, his footsteps, and the way they get louder with each step as he stalks closer to you. the deliberation in his steps, and the way he takes long, but slow, strides towards you. enjoying the way your body tenses in anticipation. 

“you know what i mean. ogling a player from the opposing team, huh?” kaiser appears from behind you, and you instinctively flinch at his voice. you can feel the way his breath tickles the skin of your nape, lacking a concept of personal space or maybe just not caring, as leans down to level with you. “you seemed to be enjoying yourself back there.”

“don’t flatter yourself,” you huff, looking the other way as he perches his chin on top of your shoulder. you can feel the heat of his gaze as he looks at side of your face, intense and unyielding— and flustering. “i wasn’t.” a lie.

kaiser knows. “sure.” because he catches the way the tips of your ears bloom into a deep crimson, and he laughs softly at this— a low, deep sound that reverberates in your ears. “you hate me, right?” he questions you, but the smirk is evident in his tone. 

“i do,” you say with as much conviction, another lie, but determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing you bothered— affected, by him. “i despise you,” and you want to believe it yourself. but your voice betrays you, it falters, it loses that animosity that has his smirk spreading into a grin. 

you make the mistake of glancing at him again, watching as something flickers in his eyes. something along the lines of intrigue, satisfaction, like you’d said exactly what he had wanted to hear. a bold lie, a challenge for him to disprove because he knows you’re lying. that, despite claiming that you despise him, you can’t stop the way you crave to see him. 

“then,” he straightens his body, no longer leaning on you for support. and as you try to look away from him again, to escape him, he stops you. his left hand crawls up your left arm, leaving a line of goosebumps in its path as it travels up— you feel the way they hover over your shoulder, and then the junction of your neck, tracing your jaw as his deft fingers find their way to your chin. it’s aggressive— the way he tilts your chin to the right, forcing you to glance up at him, right into his eyes. “why do you never push me away?” he asks, his voice dipping in a way that makes your pulse race. “unless, you’re secretly enjoying this.”

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