#johnny x ftm reader

[dilfkillerr]

˖౨ৎ ⋆｡˚﹒janitor a.i bot list update P.2

【 my janitor ai acc - @ Aresangell 】

【 my venus chub acc - @ Starangell 】

【 my cai acc - @ Angelstaar 】

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Liu Kang 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - He didn't pay attention to you so you decided to record a spicy video for him, but you didn't expect him to react.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Miguel O'Hara 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - the hot guy at your gym was flirting with you. 🏳️‍⚧️ 》 transmasc miguel au

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Priest Miguel O'Hara 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - Miguel O'Hara chose to be a priest after a personal tragedy, he never faithfully believed in anything ── However, you soon changed that, and he had to fight not to give in to the sins of the flesh.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Bi Han /Sub Zero - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - You and Bi Han were friends with benefits, but the two of you felt much more than just lust.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Tomas Vrbada - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - Tomas and you were friends for two years. It was obvious to everyone who looked at the way Vrbada spoke to you or looked at you that the ninja was completely in love with you; the less you saw it, whether because you ignored his feelings on purpose or simply couldn't see that there was much more than platonic love. However, with the arrival of your ex, he needed to act.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Bi Han/ Sub Zero - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - You couldn't become a ninja because you were too weak, but now, the grandmaster himself took care of you.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Nanami Kento - 【 𝗔𝗙𝗔𝗕 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - You accidentally sent a nude to your university professor.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 OC, Needy Boyfriend - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - Dmitry is your rich and needy boyfriend, who needs you 24/7, especially when he wakes up without you in his bed.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Lord Raiden - 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - You were caught by him masturbating.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Miguel O'Hara - 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - You needed money and now you have a 'sugar daddy'.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Tio Miguel O'Hara - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - Your non blood uncle is obsessed with you. V.2

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Bi Han/Sub Zero - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - a family together, but apart.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Father Miguel O'Hara - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - You need to get down on your knees and beg for forgiveness. V.2

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Tomas Vrbada - 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - He wants to ask you out with him.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Bi Han/Sub Zero - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - drinks

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Stepfather Albert Wesker - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - did you know him... V.3

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Kuai Liang - 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - Cramps

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Wife Miguel O'Hara - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - he is your sub wife

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Tomas Vrbada - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - boyfriend gifts

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Goth Miguel O'Hara - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - He liked you and your makeup. 🦇 》 gothic au

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Miguel O'Hara - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - did you get hurt

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Dilf Miguel O'Hara - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - You were living in the house of a grumpy old man, but he os very cute... 🎀 》 DILF SERIES.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Professor Miguel O'Hara - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - He's your annoying chemistry professor. 📚 》 college au

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Dilf Dracula - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - maybe he wants more than your blood. 🎀 》 DILF SERIES.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Dilf Count Dracula Count - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - you are a teacher's assistant and help him with his classes. 🎀 》DILF SERIES.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Dilf Nanami Kento - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】dirty secret🎀 》 DILF SERIES

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Lord Raiden - 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - teasing and punishment

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Ice God/Bi Han - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - You are the servant of a grumpy ice god. ❄️ 》 ICE GOD/KING AU.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Mad Scientist/Miguel O'Hara - 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - you are a wonderful experience of him. 🥼 》 MAD SCIENTIST AU

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Johnny Cage - 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - aftercare

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Bi Han/Sub Zero - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - low self esteem | 🎀 》 daddykink version

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Miguel O'Hara - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - you got pregnant with him... 🕷️ 》 miguel o’hara x blackcat!user

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Homelander - 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - you are the new hero of the seven and he has his eyes on you.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Nanami Kento - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - we never talked about ***** **** ┆ 🧼 》 fight club au, you are his tyler...

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Tomas Vrbada- 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - new recruit

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Bi Han/Sub Zero - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】- valentine's day

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Simon Riley 'Ghost' - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - slutty torture

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Lord Raiden - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - he is your father figure

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Tomas Vrbada - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】- lying between his legs

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 OC - Stepfather, Yan Jin - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - your new stepfather is rude but extremely handsome. 🎀 》DILF SERIES.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Bi Han/Sub Zero - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】- he needs to take care of you.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Kuai Liang - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】- arranged marriage...

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Miguel O'Hara - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】survivor.🕊️ 》TWD AU, He's Your Negan.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Titan Lord Raiden - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - reencounter

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Step!Brother, Miguel O'Hara - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】breedtable ─ m!preg.🕊️ 》DARK SERIES.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Yandere! Homelander - 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - a dark hero who is in love. 🕊️ 》 DARK SERIES

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Yandere!Shang Tsung - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - obsession

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Tomas Vrbada - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - fuck buddies

[yanderestarangel]

HEADKANONS MK1 | FINISH HIM! | WITH ALL THE MEN OF MK1 | EXTREME SMUT

TW: rough sex, extreme sex, smut, use of powers, sex with clones, v!sex, ftm reader, pet names, afab anatomy, blowjob, threesome sex, nsfw, pain kink, possessive and violent sex, sex without a condom, prolong orgasm, cock warming, oral (f!r), creampie, extreme degradation, humiliation, supetestimulation, male reader, bdsm, daddykink, fingering, masturbation.

Bi Han uses his fingers to prolong your orgasm. Using them to hit the sweet and sensitive spots, your pussy would already be dirty with cold cum because of his dick, he did it on purpose that time, he wanted to see you squirm with the change of temperatures he could give you, using the warm fingers to tease your slits watching you turn into an overstimulated mess as he smiled even more sadistically. Bi Han was a greedy man and would do anything to make you cum again and again. Inserting a third finger while watching his semen stain his own fingers. There's no point in begging him to stop, is it enough? Enough? No No, he will fuck you to the breaking point, and he does it like no one else. "-Such a filthy little thing, You're taking my fingers like a greedy slut, aren't you?" Bi Han slaps your pussy, spreading his semen all over you even more, as he returns to the rhythm, one, two, three fingers, until you beg the grand master to fuck you with his dick again, if you beg well... Maybe he will.

Tomas uses his dick to prolong your pleasure. He notices that you want to cum again while your pussy milks his cock like it's the only thing you know how to do... And well, it was true, you were just a handsome himbo, married to Tomas, always milking his cock with your sweet pussy, rubbing against ninja lin kuei's 22 centimeter long cock. You were desperate and he knew it, grabbing your waist, his fingers holding and squeezing the soft flesh of your ass while he went at full speed into your wet and warm hole, suspending you in his arms, while thrusting harder, making circular movements with your hips while his straight, fat cock teases all your walls. "-Oh fuck pretty boy, your pussy is so tight." Vrbada moaned hoarsely, seeing you tremble beneath him. "-Do you want to cum again? Then cum my boy, just cum on my cock will you?"

Kenshi who prolongs your lust with sex toys and even using the powers of sento, invoking to help him satisfy you. He will notice how overstimulated you are and how you want to have a second orgasm, he continues with his hard and pulsing cock inside your pussy, he will take a vibrator near the headboard, while he takes it over your pussy, placing it on your clit swollen and sore, you trembled and moaned beneath him. Kenshi accelerated his thrusts at full speed, smiling roguishly as he felt you in such a vulnerable state, the combo of his pulsing cock + the maximum speed of the vibrator made you scream and whimper, he would take one of your breasts into his mouth, circling his tongue around the hardened nipple, moaning hoarsely against your soft, partially sweaty skin. "-Oh, you know that baby? Daddy's cock is throbbing for you. You have such a tight pussy... Damn (Y/N) you're insatiable! Do you want to cum again? You want to milk my cock with that pussy hot? Then do it." He also becomes overstimulated, with the joining of your pussy and the vibrations that also reach his cock beneath the creamy flesh, starting to babble in his native language. "-Kuso ̄, son'nani watashi o kuruwaseru tsumoridesu ka?" ( Damn, are you trying to make me crazy like that? )

Liu Kang makes you sit on his dick while watching your ass hit his crotch, moaning loudly and holding your hips tightly, however, he would let you dictate the pace. His fingers dig into your skin, you can feel his heat and grip on you, with each movement of your inviting pussy, his cock contracts with pleasure, a single vein on his side pulses inside you, making you moan even louder. Liu Kang will take one of his hands to your breast, and the other will slowly go to your belly, feeling with his fingertips the bulge of his own cock inside you, he would go crazy, finally accelerating and hitting his hard shaft right in you. "-I'm going to fuck you until you're a quivering mess, until every inch of your body belongs to me. You're my good boy, my perfect little slut."

Raiden will fuck you slowly in a 69, denying you orgasm every time you are close, sucking his hard cock into your mouth, while you push your hips towards him, he would suck your clit so well~ hot and long licks, circular movements and in a critical and calculated pattern, he would use the powers of electricity to generate a small electrical current, sharing the hot and delicious electricity with your pussy and uterus, it was a sensation that made you moan against his cock, begging for release, a delicious and tortuous punishment. Raiden would join his fingers, sticking two fingers and tongue into your needy hole, as he heard you beg to cum, but he wouldn't let you climax until he thought you deserved it enough, giving the flesh of your ass a gentle squeeze with a hand full of the softness of your body. "-I will fuck this precious pussy until it knows no other pleasure. You will belong to me completely, body and soul." He connects his mouth to your pussy again, making you jump with pleasure, as you tried to suck his dick well, but you were too focused on the pleasure that Raiden was giving you.

Syzoth who teaches you how to touch yourself, he knew how to give you pleasure. You would be on your back, resting on his muscular chest, one of his hands was on top of yours, while he gave you kisses and praised you, whispering commands in your ear with a lascivious and relaxed voice, filled with pride when he saw you feel the pleasure. carnal for the first time, your fingers with the help of his longer fingers went towards your clit, the bud swollen and hot, sliding through your lubricated pussy, needing attention, attention from Syzoth. He was going to be patient, but his erection was already soiling his pants, poking your back. "-Mmm, so soft... Just the way I like it. I can't resist you. Not when you're all exposed like this, begging to be fucked." Syzoth cups your breasts, easily bringing them together with his hands, giving a gentle massage to your hardened nipples. "-Just cum little doll, just cum for me."

Kuai Liang who stands on top of you, muscles exposed, while his long hair falls over your face, he would order you to warm his dick. "-This time baby boy... You're going to stick my dick in that hot pussy, okay?" Liang said, taking your lips in a hot kiss, while you opened your thighs needily, his eyes would be totally vibrating on you, while he felt your hand on his cock, guiding him to your entrance. He would heat up his dick to the extent necessary for you to go crazy with pleasure with the heat of his dick repeatedly and slowly hitting your cervix, while he watched you roll your head back and roll your eyes. "-Fuck, babe... you feel so fucking good, You're my obedient little boy, aren't you? Just take my dick like this in your delicious pussy."

Johnny Cage, possessively fucking you as he watched you turn into a dumb, crying mess beneath him, his warm, strong hands on your skin, as he growled under his breath how your pussy belonged to him and his alone, the expensive bed in the suite Presidential position was already broken with the rough thrusts that Cage made with his hips, the shocks of his balls on your ass, Johnny's angry face, the previously combed hair was now messy above your eyes, the pressure on your neck it increased, you asked him to stop, but he just purred in your ear between primitive moans. "-You are such a beautiful boy, crying and whimpering asking me to stop, but your pussy gets wet with every thrust of my cock... Mmm even your pussy knows that you are a handsome little prince hungry for cock in that pussy of yours beautiful." He opens your legs even more, you can see his totally sweaty abdomen, one of his hands squeezes your thigh and the other your neck, while he looks into your eyes, staring at your every reaction to his rough thrusts. "-You're nothing but a cumdump for me, my personal fuck toy."

Shao Khan he would fuck your holes - all - your holes, seeing the enormous volume he caused in you, his grunts were just of pleasure and dominance, the dominance he had over an inferior being like you. You could barely think straight with his cock impaling you, just shaking and moaning as he smiled seeing you in such a pathetic way for him. "-I'm going to fuck you until you pass out, you're just a dumb mess for my dominance. I'm your fucking master, just me, you're just a pretty slut aren't you? You can't even answer me, too busy moaning for me ."

Shang Tsung used his powers to make clones of him, to fuck you and have even more pleasure, with several of him fucking your holes, no part of your body would be safe from him, mouth, pussy, hands, thighs, ass - nothing is safe from Shang and his clones, humiliating you, degrading you, praising you, there was an accumulation of voices with the same timbre in the room, all his, hitting your pussy and ass, while another Shang Tsung fucked your mouth, while you lost consciousness little by little by the unbearable pleasure in your core, which dripped onto the floor, you were dirty with cum and sweat and the sorcerer loved seeing the lascivious work of art he created, you were his and he was determined to claim you in every way possible. "-Your tight pussy swallowing my cock, begging for more. You're so beautiful, do you like multiple cocks in your body my doll?" Tsung said, smiling at you, fucking you in front, while his other clones continued to accelerate you harder.

Baraka pushed his huge dick between your breasts, enjoying the delicious friction you were providing him, while he grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him, while the tip of his dick disappeared into your slippery flesh, he loved fucking you. Looking you in the eyes, he made you feel like a prince but at the same time, made you act like a pathetic, cheap whore, dizzy and drunk on the praise and pleasure of his dick. "-You're dirtying the floor like that, your little pussy just wanting me, aren't you? I'm going to fuck this precious pussy until it knows no other pleasure. You're my good boy, my perfect little slut." He moved his dick between your breasts, while stroking your hair, making you water because you wanted him to fuck you right away.

Rain sucking his cock with all the hunger you had, he just pushed the clothes he was wearing to the side, exposing his cock for you to suck it greedily. He would try to be a gentleman, but it was difficult with the size of his dick in your soft cheeks, while your tears ran down the size of him in your cavity. "-I bet you love being used like this, don't you?" He pushed even further, his cock curved invading your throat, making you choke and look for support on his muscular thighs, while he enjoyed the view, you were beautiful and totally his in you.

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

[gofishygo]

[thegnomelord]

Locker-room jokes

CW:NSFW MDNI, FTM reader and Gaz, frotting, oral, first times, masc terms (cock, cocklet, bottom growth) this is based off a post I saw somewhere and a talk I had with @embry-garrick . Author isn't trans so tell me if this sucks lol

Guys comparing dick sizes in the locker room is a joke as old as time. You'd never considered entertaining it as it always came off stupid to you. . . yet here you are.

The locker room is thankfully empty except for you and Gaz, the silence buzzing beneath your skin and leaving you awkwardly shifting your weight from one leg to the other. It's not like you two haven't seen each other naked before, God knows some of the communal showers on different bases were little bigger than shoe boxes, but the expectation to do more than just catch a glimpse — that makes you feel naked.

Agreeing to this had been easy, but now that it came time to put your words were your mouth was you realize you were too arrogant; You can't quite make yourself meet Gaz's gaze, eyes flickering from his face to the darkened lines beneath his pecks, to the sparce trail of body hair that disappears down beneath the towel wrapped around his hips before returning to his face, your cheeks burning.

"Oh, is someone nervous?" Gaz shows you mercy by sauntering closer, gun calloused hands finding their place on your hips and thumbs slipping beneath the towel's hem. "Scared you're not going to be able to rise to the occasion?" His voice has a teasing lilt to it as he snickers at his own words.

You open your mouth to speak but you're forced to bite your tongue when Kyle presses against you, chest to chest and skin to skin. He tilts his head back, your noses brushing together. "You know," His lips brush against yours, just a ghost and a promise something more should you listen to him. "You could just quit while you're ahead and save yourself the embarrassment."

Even the miniscule sensation of his lips on yours leaves your body wanting more, your ribs aching to be wrenched open so he can hold your heart in his hands. Damn tempter.

You ignore your body's wants, the knowledge of him testing you making something burn in your chest. "In your dreams." You repeat the same words that got you into this mess, the words that awakened his competitive streak.

You mimic him by gripping his hips and clutching the towel barely hanging around him. But there's a small tremor in your hands, anxiety nibbling on your nerves — You're treading new ground, the furthest you two ever got was drunken make out sessions and heavy groping in bathrooms or broom closets or Price's office that one time.

Kyle doesn't mention the tremble, your actions earning yourself a pleased grin from him. "Ooh, aren't you arrogant." Which is good; it wouldn't be fun if you were a wet rag about it. Kyle's fingers shift to skirt across your sides before gripping your towel tighter. "Tell you what, we take them off together, yeah?"

"Aren't you thoughtful." Your words make him grin, but you nod your head. "Fine—" You grip his towel, the muscles in your arm tensing. "One, two, three-"

You barely manage to say the last number before Kyle yanks the towel off your hips and tosses it carelessly on the nearby bench. You scramble to do the same, your hands suddenly your mortal enemies as you stumble around a bit while you feel his eyes on you before you manage to take his towel off.

Gaz knows he looks good, he's proud of his body, but the way your eyes travel across his frame — from his face to his chest, following the happy trail of sparce hair down his abdomen to his groin where the neatly trimmed pubic hair accentuates the length of his bottom growth— has blood rushing to his cock, has him feeling high as a kite.

He looks you over up and down, both to see your embarrassment grown and because he's pleased by what he sees. His eyes settles to your groin where a bush of hair partly obscures your own bottom growth, glancing between you and himself. "I reckon I'm bigger."

Something about the way he says it, like he's a jaguar that just caught a cayman, sparks something inside you. "Only because you're smooth as a baby's ass." You growl and push a hand between your bodies, trapping your cock between two fingers and spreading them slightly so it's fully on display. "I'm bigger." You can't help but press a chaste kiss on the tip of his nose, some of your arrogance coming back.

Kyle tries not to, but a pleased noise escapes his throat — you're definitely bigger, at least half an inch if not more. He's not willing to admit defeat that quickly, but fuck, the change in your attitude is a major turn on.

"Cheater." The accusation would be far more hurtful if he didn't press himself closer, one hand holding your shoulder, the other sliding down to hold his cocklet. "Just gotta-" But he doesn't stop there, slowly stroking the length of it between his fingers, thumb swirling across the tip. "-I'll show you big."

"Now who's cheating?" You snark, using your free hand to hold Kyle tightly so he doesn't lose his balance. You don't stop him, mesmerized by the way each languid stroke has his cock chubbing up a bit more, slick easing the glide as it glistens across his flushed flesh.

"You started it-hah!—" You pick the moment to grind your groin into his, the tip of your cocklet roughly grinding against his and forcing a small punched out noise from his lungs.

"Whoops." You grunt, pleasure starting to simmer in your veins as you grind your cock against his again. "Sorry, just needed to get the right angle." Your tone makes the lie obvious but you can't be bothered to make it sound believable, the combination of shifting of your hips and the slow movement of your hand as you stroke yourself at the same tempo as him has lightning rushing up your spine. "I'm still bigger than you."

"Bastard!" The curse morphs into a short laugh and finally into a moan that bounces off the tiled walls, his head tilting forward to place a sloppy and disorganized kiss on your cheek. Kyle pants against your skin, leaving crescent shaped bruises on your shoulder from how tightly he grips you. "Hold on, I just have to-" He moans again, rocking his hips to meet yours that has the sensitive heads of your cocklets bumping together. "-fuck- fuck- just, give me a minute it gets bigger."

"What's wrong Kyle, failing to rise to the occasion?" You have no idea how wet that smug tone of yours makes him, but with how obscenely loudly his slick squelches against his fingers, Kyle's sure you'll figure it out soon. "Here, let me help you."

It's Kyles turn to be surprised when you push him into one of the stalls, his back meeting the cold tiles of the shower. "What are you planning?" He grunts, a yelp escaping him when you suddenly grab his thighs, picking up and bending him nearly in half until your head's cradled between his thighs and his cock's inches away from your mouth. The years of gymnastics makes the position possible, the numb pain of muscles deep in his back stretching making the pleasure so much sharper.

You blow cold air across his sensitive cocklet, watching it twitch with need. "Relax, just getting a better look." The way his thighs shake when you lick a slow stripe up his cock has your mind buzzing, the needy sound that breaks past his lips sweet as honey to your ears. "I'm gonna help you get as big as you can." It's hard to look away from his cock but you force yourself to look up at Gaz, resting his cocklet against your lips. "It's only fair."

"You-" Whatever he wanted to say next is cut off when you take his entire cock in your mouth, resting it on your tongue for a few moments before you suck. "-oh fuck!" His hands scramble to find purchase on your shoulders, gripping your hair as he hunches over, his mouth right next to your ear so you can head a moan leave him — deep and low and so desperate.

It makes you want to pull more of those sounds out of him. And you do — sloppily slurping on his cocklet for a few seconds only to pull off to lick it, alternating between slow strong swipes of your tongue across his entire shaft to small kitten licks on his tip. Occasionally you pull off entirely to blow cold air across it, keeping him teetering on that edge of pleasure, silencing the sounds of discontent with a few swipes near his hole before taking all of him into your mouth to repeat the cycle.

You don't know what's more intoxicating; You feel yourself grow drunk off the slightly sweet and musky taste of his slick that runs down your chin, the image of his abdominal muscles fluttering and thighs shaking from the building pleasure in his belly burned into your mind, Kyles babbles of "Yeah, like th- fuck, fuck, fuck- that- pleas-hah—" and calls of your name broken by moans and whimpers like the song of angels.

You feel him get closer to the edge, or at least you assume so by the way the grinding of his hips into your face grows erratic, your name being the only word that still clings to his brain as he chants it like a mantra, his fingers shaking from how tightly he grips your shoulders.

Kyle makes a sound like a wounded animal when you suddenly pull off, "-no-no-nono!" He cries, hips still bucking into the air with the need to tumble over the edge of pleasure, tears staining his cheeks as he manages to force out a weak glare. "Wh- why w-gh!- why?"

"We still have to compare." Your voice is rough like you'd been gurgling shards of glass, holding him steady as you lower him enough to wrap his legs around your waist, pressing your bodies together until you're smushing him into the wall.

He doesn't complain as the sudden move has your bottom growths rubbing against one another, and only now do you realize your body is as desperate as his. "Y- ah fuck- yeah right." There's still that fire in him, but now he uses it to grip the back of your skull and mush your lips together, ignoring the taste of himself on your lips. "Just-shit mh!- move."

Kyle's heels digging into your flank makes you rock forward, grinding your cocks together. Your slick mixes together, your pubic hair sticking to his skin and tickling the sensitive flesh of his cock with every thrust. He openly moans into your mouth, licking in and around your open mouth, trying to clean off the slick staining your skin but only making a bigger mess as spit now mixes with his juices.

Kyle feels like he's burning up, like he's just a puddle of please — the pace you set is rough and your kisses are sloppy and desperate and it feels like Heaven. Gaz wraps all four limbs around you tightly yet he still gyrates his pelvis to meet yours, every nerve in your bodies feeling like a live wire as pleasure builds and builds until it's ready to spill over.

"Fuck- Kyle-" You grunt, your fingers leaving bruises on his flesh, his back sliding up and down against the tiles as you increase your pace, every brush of his flesh against yours banging on your skull. "I'm -mhm- close."

"Mh- me too-" He slurs against your lips, kissing you until both of you are gasping for air. "please-please-please-love- make us cum, plea- ah fuck!—" Kyle shouts as his orgasm finally crashes into him, toes curling and head tilting to bite your shoulder in an attempt to silence himself as he cums, hole fluttering around nothing and cock throbbing as slick runs down his thighs.

The pain and pleasure comes for you a second later, you grip him so harshly you can feel his bones groan as you cum too, your hips grinding together to prolong the mind numbing pleasure, your teeth finding his shoulder as you bite down as well.

You don't know how the Hell you're still standing by the time you come down from your high, every muscle in your body straining like you'd just went through a suicide mission. Kyle's no better, shaking like a leaf and completely boneless in your arms, panting into your neck.

You kiss the bite mark you've left on his shoulder, gently bumping your head into his to gain his attention, "Kyle?" You ask, "Are you alright?"

"Fuuuuck lovie," Kyle groans, barely able to lift his head enough to give you a sloppy kiss on the cheek. "That was good." His fingers idly scratch your scalp, the low rasp of his fucked out voice makes your cock twitch half-heartedly but you're too worn out to get aroused again. "Remind me to blow you when I can feel my legs again."

Yeah, he's alright.

A small laugh breaks past your lips and you give him a similarly sloppy kiss. "I will." Somehow you manage to sit down on the floor, Kyle laying on top of you, as content as a spoiled cat.

"Just so you know." He whispers into your ear, his fingers slowly sliding across your sides, thumbs rubbing lazy absentminded circles into your skin. "I want a do-over of this contest." He grins, and fuck, you can't get past how handsome he looks like that. "Maybe in my room, yeah?"

You can't refuse. "Yeah."

[roseboysstuff]

Thinking about fuckbuddy ghost (this is ftm reader btw)

Ghost who is amazing in bed, his cock dragging orgasm after orgasm out of your cunt

Ghost who doesn't really give the best aftercare, cleans you up and then waves goodbye

Ghost who totally doesn't love you, you're just a convenient lay

Ghost who loves watching you ride his cock, your hair bouncing and your eyes squeezed shut. The pleasure evident on your face. "Beautiful." He thinks, distantly, as his cock explodes with pleasure, shooting the familiar hot seed into you.

Ghost who starts watching you every time he fucks you. He can't get enough of your face. You just look so handsome, all covered in sweat and your face flush with pleasure.

Ghost who still definitely doesn't love you.

Ghost who argues with you, when you tell him you're catching feelings for him. He's mad, because now he has to face his own feelings.

Ghost who watches you run away to your room, crying. His pride preventing him from following you. Despite how much he wants to gather you in his arms, and love you.

Ghost who doesn't get the chance to apologise, as he's sent on a solo mission, lasting for 4 months straight. Who doesn't know what's happening back in the base, during his absence.

Soap who sees your heartbroken expression, and can't stand it.

Soap who brings you a beer, saying "bottom's up", in his glorious scottish accent.

Soap who listens all night, as you pour your heart out to him, crying until your eyes are dry and bloodshot. Who hugs you, until the alcohol makes you drift off peacefully.

Soap who's still there the next morning, stroking your hair, and helping you through your hangover. The care and affection making you melt slightly, not knowing what you needed.

Soap who desperately wants to ask you out, but is patient. He knows you need space.

Soap who can't wait anymore, who only 2 months after Ghost has left, takes you out. Who sits with you on a grassy hill, watching the sun go down. Holding your hand, and sipping some wine.

Soap who takes you back to bed that night, and unlike the rough thrusts and near silence of Ghost, is sweet. His honeyed words like a balm to your soul, his tender touches sending hot shivers down your spine. Who's cock isn't as big as Ghost's but who treats you like a precious gem.

Soap who makes you climax as many times as you want that night, and who finally fills you with his seed, only after making sure it's what you truly want.

Soap who gives perfect aftercare, holding you, reassuring you, loving you.

Soap Johnny who is the perfect boyfriend, and who after only a few weeks, when you're suddenly pregnant with his child, doesn't abandon you.

Johnny who proposes right then and there, not wanting you to feel abandoned ever again.

Ghost who returns from his mission, ready to apologise to you, knowing now that he really does love you.

Ghost who sees the strange looks, as he asks about you.

Ghost who is told about both yours and Johnny's honourable discharges.

Ghost Simon who sits in his room in the barracks, desperately trying to find any lingering remnants of your scent on his bed

Simon who cries that night, remembering your face, wanting to see it again. Not just flush with pleasure, but bright with joy. Grinning and laughing, smiling at him with the love he now feels tortured by

Simon who receives an invite to your's and Johnny's wedding, and covers it with his tears that night.

Simon who stands there, in a black suit, watching the love of his life walk down the aisle, with the protuding baby bump under your wedding clothes. But he's not standing at the end of the aisle.

Simon Riley, who watches as you change your last name to MacTavish, desperately wishing you were changing it to Riley

Johnny MacTavish, who holds you tightly, thankful for the chance to have you. Who'll never treat you wrong.

Your husband and father of your baby, Johnny, who made you believe in love again.

[biting-miguel-ohara]

Uniform Kink with Johnny Storm

A/N: I think I’m getting sick 😑 So if this feels rushed or too fast, I just didn’t have the motivation to write out a full length sex scene. Blame my achy body

Written for this request and the Kinktober prompt Uniform Kink. Also, I based this on the older movie version of Johnny, but this follows no canon events

Written with an ftm!Reader in mind

Link to masterlist here

CW: Reader gets felt up; ass groping; Reader is a superhero; Johnny is Reader’s teammate and boyfriend; dirty talk?; this is full on public sex, I think; light grinding; Reader’s arousal is called slick; Johnny tastes Reader’s slick; mentions of future oral sex; nudity; mild smut; explicit sexual content; quick sex; being seen, sort of?; Reader and Johnny’s exploits end up in a newspaper; Johnny is implied to be very wild about sex

806 words

“Johnny!” You hiss, swatting his hand away from your ass for the umpteeth time. “Not the time or place!”

He immediately moves his hand back, grinning unashamedly. “Come on, no one’s looking. Who’d even be able to tell anyway?”

He’s… unfortunately not wrong. You’re on patrol, currently stationed on top of an apartment building. No one’s looking up. No one would be able to tell. The temptation is there.

You scowl at him. “No. No way. Not in a million— Oh, stop that!”

You swat his hand again as he shamelessly feels your ass. He snickers, giving you as best of an innocent look as he can muster. “Come on, babe… You know I can’t resist you when you’re all dressed up.”

Your eyes narrow, but you let him rest a hand on your hip. Your first mistake.

Johnny grins as if he knows he’s won. He leans in closer, lowering his voice to that tone you’re weak for. “You look so sexy in that suit… Parading that ass around… Showing off your handsome body to the world…That’s hotter than me, babe.”

You try your best to not be affected by his words. But then he runs his hands up and down your sides, giving you that delicious smug look he wears so well.

He grips your ass, giving it a light squeeze. “You know you want to…”

You groan softly, knowing he’s right. You do want to. That’s the problem. You want to, but it feels so wrong to do it in the open.

Johnny starts to kiss along your jaw, hands kneading your ass. Your arousal starts to build, but by bit.

“But it’ll look so bad if we’re caught…”

“Who’s gonna catch us?” He counters. “We’re too high up. No one’s even gonna see us.”

His fingers dip into the waistband of your pants. Not too far; just enough to tease. You can feel yourself growing wetter.

It’s so wrong. But… you can’t deny there’s a thrill to it. Your body relaxes and he chuckles. “That’s it. I knew you’d come around.”

He sounds so smug you’re almost tempted to say no just to spite him. But you hold your tongue. “Shut up.”

He laughs and kisses you. You kiss him back, tangling your fingers into his hair. It’s his weakness, your hands in his hair. Scratching at his scalp, combing through the strands, even lightly tugging…

He moans into the kiss, sliding a leg between your thighs. You readily grind down, letting your worries slip to the back of your mind. Your focus is on Johnny now, and he’s clearly intent on keeping it there.

The foreplay doesn’t last long. He’s too hungry for you. Too horny to contain himself. His kisses grow greedy and you move your hands from his hair as his scalp grows hot. You have no interest in getting your hands burned off for the sake of sex.

He backs you against the A/C unit, stripping the lower half of your suit down. You yelp as the cold air breezes past your slick parts. He trails his fingers along you, leaving slivers of heat that only add to your arousal.

He collects your slick, popping his fingers into his mouth and sucking them clean like he’s tasting candy. “So delicious. I could eat you out all day, babe.”

“Why don’t you?” You challenge.

He grins. “Oh, I will. But right now? I need to be inside you.”

He undresses, practically getting naked right there on the rooftop. His suit has fewer pieces than yours, not that you’re complaining. You’re just enjoying the view.

He pulls you closer, lifting you up easily. You wrap your legs around his waist, moaning as he slides into you. It’s undeniably hot; the fact that you’re fucking in the open. You could be called in to help at any moment, but that doesn’t seem to matter right now.

All you can feel is his dick, thrusting hard into you.

You fuck dirty, fast and eager. Neither of you take your time; choosing speed over comfort. But when you cum? Oh, you could bask in the haze for hours.

You’re just getting all put back together when your communicator device beeps. You relay the message to Johnny. “They need us at HQ.”

He grins and finishes putting on his suit. “Wanna bet we make headlines?”

You groan and turn away. “I’d rather not think about it. HQ first and then we can worry about that.”

He just laughs and gives you a wink. “You got it, handsome.”

You do, in fact, make headlines. The rest of your team doesn’t let you live it down for months afterward, but you don’t regret it. When it comes to your boyfriend, a rooftop isn’t nearly the most scandalous place you’ve fucked. Not by a long shot.

[freyito]

ᴊᴏʜɴɴʏ ᴄᴀɢᴇ & ᴋᴇɴꜱʜɪ ᴛᴀᴋᴀʜᴀꜱʜɪ ʀᴇᴀᴄᴛ ᴛᴏ ꜰᴛᴍ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɢᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴄᴀᴛᴄᴀʟʟᴇᴅ

el oh el! so funny story!!! i got cat called today! yaaaaay! ! ! ! ! i'm so absolutely fucking horrified and disgusted and eugh. i've been stalked and ive been followed home and eughhhh. so. i apologize for the heavy undertones of this post but PROJECTING!! this is helping me get over the feeling. i think. i dunno.

cw: ftm reader, afab, catcalling, mention of misgendering, comfort, pre-blind kenshi, not proofread

Johnny Cage

He loves showing you off. He keeps you close in public, like to the point where it's genuinely hard to walk because of it. He's pulled you in by the waist, his hand firm. As if you'll escape from him. But, you won't even try. You like this.

So, when some random asshole across the street calls out to you, something something about your boobs, at first he's like "Awh, lil ol' me?". But holy shit. He is seething.

Johnny takes the attention off of you. And inadvertently threatens the loser. Well... it's more than obvious, actually. He's 6'1, built like a statue, and filled with enough rage to make a rabid dog cower.

He doesn't let go of you, though. And he's surprisingly rational. All he really has to do is stare the man down, make him uncomfortable. Beyond so, actually. He's getting quite erotic with this man.

And when the catcaller finally walks away, he relaxes only slightly. Johnny would beat that man to a pulp if he could, but he'd rather not get arrested, nor would he want the press getting a hold of that.

But now, he's more concerned about you. You went from glued to his hip to shying away, a horrible empty, gut-wrenching, nauseous feeling washing over you.

He doesn't allow you to sulk, he's grabbing your hand and power-walking to the car. That's enough of the public, today. And once you two are safely in the car, he's affirming you. Like, absolutely drowning you in the fact that you are his boy, his boyfriend, his and all his and no other man has a right to treat you that way. To talk to you that way. He doesn't have that right, either. At home, he's got a bath drawn immediately, he's picked out clothes for you, and has ordered your favorite food.

Kenshi Takahashi

He's also about as close as Johnny is to you out in public. But he gives you enough space to walk properly. It's so very clear that you are his.

So, when he heard that sharp whistle, he didn't even have to listen to what the assailant called out. He turns quickly, but he doesn't leave your side. He simply turns.

Kenshi is an ex-gangster, dammit. He could beat this man until he was unrecognizable, he's got all sorts of repentance lined up for the asshole across the street. How many fingers shall he take? Any ink on his skin worth keeping?

But he doesn't move. He doesn't talk. That is enough to make the assailant run off, tail between his legs. And he makes damn sure of it.

Once Kenshi's sure the man is at least a block down, he turns back to you and holds you closely. Almost as if he's hiding you. He doesn't allow you to retreat within yourself, he doesn't even want to think of how you feel.

He walks away quickly, finding a quiet place to calm you down. He's as hands on or off as you want him to be, he understands if suddenly you don't want to be touched.

And he's quick to bring you back to the car, as well. The car ride home is quiet, but he pampers you when you get home. He actually affirms you more than Johnny, he's very insistent and emphasizes every single masculine word, pronoun, everything as he talks. At home, he's already got a little den set up for you, with your favorite books, he'll offer to draw a bath for you, he's ready to cook your favorite food, and has white noise playing from the TV.

© freyito, 2023 | masterlist | queue | kofi DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[supernatural-bias]

𝐓𝐰𝐨-𝐁𝐢𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐰𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐀 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ notes: tagging @orinscrivellos who motivated me to write this. i really enjoyed doing it

↳ warnings: slight implications of transhobia. nothing directly mentioned

↳ song: a little less conversation—elvis presley

masterlist | commissions | carrd

• Two-Bit thinks you’re super kickass for being out and open about yourself in the way you are. It is the sixties after all, and along with living on the East side of town, you aren’t exactly getting treated the best

• But that doesn’t really matter to you. As long as the gang, and most importantly Two-Bit, likes you, then you couldn’t care less

• So yeah, Two-Bit thinks you’re brave. Probably calls you his ‘fearless knight,’ and treats you poshly for a good laugh sometimes. Or about as posh as he can pretend to get. He’s never been really good at playing a rich character despite his improvisation skills. You suppose it’s the way he was raised, the way all of you were raised, that makes it difficult

• Is loud and proud about you being his partner. Unless you want him keeping it under wraps, Two-Bit will pretty much scream it from the mountain tops about how much he loves his boyfriend. Consequences be damned

• “Golly, Two, you just don’t stop talking about him do you?” Ponyboy ogles at his friend as they make their way down the street, heading to meet you for a night out at the Nightly Double. He was in disbelief that anyone could ever talk so much and for so long, much less about the same thing. Even Soda didn’t use to talk about Sandy this much

• “Nope!” Two-Bit pops his ‘p’ loudly, grinning like a shark as he continues on with his train of thought. Pony just shook his head in a mix of awe and horror, already regretting that he had thought to ask Two-Bit how you had been doing. And that was over ten minutes ago!

• Two-Bit has definitely gotten into fights to ‘defend your honor,’ as he likes to put it—most of the time he can hear people at his school bad mouthing you, which any one of you can handle. You don’t live the greaser life without getting your name dragged through the mud after all—but when they start throwing out those names about you, he’ll start a fight quicker than you could blink

• “Oh glory.” You stare at Two-Bit unblinking one afternoon. Two shiny new black eyes peer back, accompanied by a split lip, and you have to resist the urge to drag a hand down your face in exhaustion.All you had wanted to do is come pick him up from his house, and you were met with this mess

• “What? I’ve been trying on a new look. What do you think baby?“

• “I think you’re stupid.” You don't even have to ask how he got those, you already know. A part of you swells with affection at the thought of him caring about you enough to do that, but the more responsible part of you pushed it down in order to sigh

• “But you love me.” Two-Bit retorts with a gleeful laugh, sounding like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Which he doesn’t. In his eyes, he’s got all he ever needs. A mom that loves him, a sister that adores his jokes, friends that have his back, and a handsome boyfriend. What more could a greaser like him want?

• If you come out and then transition, in that order, Two-Bit and everyone would definitely help you with your new style. They’ve spent their entire lives in boys clothes, so they have plenty of fashion tips, if you can even call them that, and materials to spare

• if you wear a bigger size, or want baggier clothing, Dallas and Two-Bit with go and nab pretty much anything you want from the nearby corner store. If you like tighter fitting clothing, or run a little gangly, you are always welcome to borrow one of Pony or Johnny’s outfits. They’d give them to you in a heartbeat if you asked

• Hair greasing lessons! They’ll teach you how to grease your hair up nice so you’ll look tuff, until eventually you’ve learned to do it all by yourself. Two-Bit always smiles the biggest when you come out of the bathroom with your hair slicked back. He likes to think he’s got the best looking partner this side of the railroad tracks

• It doesn’t matter what kind of body you have or want. Two-Bit will support you all the way. It’s not like you can really afford testosterone or major surgery considering you live in the slums of Tulsa with everyone else, and those services aren’t exactly offered to the public thanks to laws at the time, but if you manage to get our hands on any of that stuff, the gang will support your recovery/shot sessions all the way; bringing you whatever you need in the moment and all that jazz, even if Dallas or Steve gripe about running errands

• “Here’s your stupid bandaids.” Dally threw a small cardboard box onto the foot of the couch you were sitting on with a slight rattle. You look up to thank him, and he just blows out a bit of smoke from his mouth. You had half a mind to ask him for a drag of his cigarette, but knew Darry would kill you if he caught you smoking after administering testosterone. He was already nervous enough about you constantly taking shots, so you didn’t want to worry him anymore

• “No problem.” Dallas’ gaze drifted over to Two-Bit, who was sitting next to you, and he smiled lazily

• “Hey Two? If the two of you are banging, does that make you gay, or straight?”

• Dally walked away from that conversation that day with a bruise on his arm and a big laugh tumbling from his lips

[gaycragula]

feeling it today ughhhh

afab!reader but meant to be read as ftm!reader ^^

NSFW/18+ under the cut

pairing: mk1 johnny cage x ftm!reader

warnings: mentions of face sitting, pussy eating, blowjobs/face fucking, terms such as pussy, clit, cunt used in reference to reader’s genitalia

johnny cage who would GLADLY die between your thighs. who wants you to sit on his face all day, every day.

he loves to get on his knees in front of you. whether it he in the shower, while you’re sitting on the couch, or sitting on the edge of the massive pool he has.

he’ll hook your legs over his shoulder, giving you those damned puppy dog eyes and you already know what he wants. and you give in every time.

he likes to tease you, kissing over your tummy, the insides of your thighs. but he’s oh so gentle with it, whispering how good you feel, how good you are to him for letting him taste you.

johnny eats you out like you’re a full course meal, savoring everything your pussy gives him. the tip his tongue flicks back and forth against your clit, pulling lovely sounds from you.

he loves it when you tug on his hair when he eats you out. loves it when you use the grip in his hair to guide his head to please you just the way you want, loves it when you grind against his face.

whether it be dragging his tongue through your folds, tonguefucking you while his nose rubs and bumps against your clit, or sucking and licking on your clit. he’s eager to please you, eager to please his handsome boyfriend.

and god does johnny love it when you squeeze his head with your thighs. he loves being trapped against your pussy, where he can only taste and smell you.

he gets off to it. the wet schlick of his hand over his cock is just barely audible over the sound of his mouth on your cunt. he moans and whines against your pussy, practically drowning himself in your taste. he wanted more. he needs more.

he wants you to cum all over his face.

so he licks and sucks, desperately trying to bring you to the edge. his thumb circles over your clit while he laps through your folds, his tongue pushing into you every few strokes.

he looks up at you through lidded eyes, drunk on your taste. your grip on his hair tightens and johnny’s eyes fall shut.

you pant his name as your hips move against his mouth. your head falls back against your shoulders and you moan out his name when you reach that peak.

your orgasm washes over you, your hips jerking and twitching against johnny’s face, thighs squeezing around his head as you cum. and johnny laps up everything he can do eagerly.

he works you through your orgasm until you’re pushing his head away. the lower half of his face is covered in your leftover fluids but he doesn’t seem to mind as he crawls over you to kiss you.

you meet him for the kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue. you’re just vaguely aware that johnny is jerking off as he kisses you. now that just won’t do.

‘let me return the favor’ you say between kisses. johnny groans against your lips but acquiesces, nudging you onto your back so he can straddle your chest.

you wrap your arms around his thighs while johnny grabs a nice handful of your hair and guides his cock to your mouth. he taps it against your lips until you part them for him and he’s able to nestle the tip of his cock in your mouth.

he guides your head over his cock for a moment before beginning to roll his hips forward to fuck your mouth.

he doesn’t last very long, coming in your mouth with a pitiful moan of your name. he doesn’t give you much time to swallow his spend, leaning down to kiss you again, not caring if he got his own cum in his mouth. or perhaps that had been his plan.

your tastes mingle in the kiss and you’re both panting when you part. ‘take it to the bedroom?’ you suggest.

johnny agrees with a quick ‘hell yes’ and a wide smile

[aeragan]

ɢᴜɪᴅᴀɴᴄᴇ ⨟ ᴋᴇɴꜱʜɪ ᴛᴀᴋᴀʜᴀꜱʜɪ x ꜰᴛᴍ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x ᴊᴏʜɴɴʏ ᴄᴀɢᴇ ⨟ 18+

DID I SAY SATURDAY..... NAH NAH I SAID SUNDAY FS........ neways, hope you're reading, kenshi's arms anon. thank you for the idea. seriously. this has all ive ever been able to think about since then. i think you're more suited for writing then i am. might've gone overboard, just maybe. enjoy ;)

shout out to britney spears tho. saved my fuckin ass. couldnt focus, couldnt write anything. played baby one more time for like 3 hours. finished the fic. done. there could be a part two..... hm?

cw: NSFW, ftm reader, afab, he/him pronouns used, threesome, implied first time (with both), implied previous relationship w/ johnny before meeting kenshi, body worship, oral (bottom receiving ((YOU)), fingering, slight praise, porn with absolutely no plot, teasing, voyeurism?? within a private space, proofread wc: 3620 MINORS DNI

It was straight to the point. All Johnny needed to hear was that you consented, and he had set the scene. He was eager. Too eager. But damn, he'd be lying if he says he wasn't nervous. Which is odd! A man like him? Nervous? He's been through scenarios like this, threesomes, foursomes, orgies, damn, he's had it all. Yet, you and Kenshi... it's different. So different. The way you two spark butterflies within his stomach simply by being there, it's a different kind of love than anything he's felt before. It's so pure, intentional, passionate, and soft. Just thinking of either of you has his cheeks red.

Now, Johnny lurks behind you and Kenshi. You sit across from the swordsman, hands planted on your knees. As close as Kenshi wanted you to be, he refused to have you in his lap. He wanted to give Johnny ample room to include himself, even if the man had insisted on just watching. Both of you knew from the start he wouldn't. He can't even keep still now. In front of you, Kenshi seems calm, a light blush tints his cheeks. It is his first, and as such, he is nervous.

"Come on," Johnny groans, leaning over Kenshi's shoulder and place his hands on the man's arms. Kenshi furrows his eyebrows at this, leaning towards you ever so slightly. Yet, he did not give in to Johnny's urgency. Kenshi was going to go by his own pace regardless, for your sake and his. Johnny could be patient. "Pleeeeaaaase..." Johnny whines once more, trying to move Kenshi's hands for him.

Yet, Kenshi is still. He does not move his hands. He does not swat Johnny away. He can feel Johnny's excitement, he can almost hear Johnny begging and pleading at the very edge of his mind. However, he is more concerned about you. "Are you ready?" Kenshi prompts, his tone even.

You hesitate- only for a second. It is not a wild idea, nor is it wildly lewd. "Yes," At your consent, Johnny lets out a sigh of relief, and Kenshi seems to relax.

"Alright, Ken-Doll," Johnny leans in closer to Kenshi's ear, a smirk lingering in his voice. He wrapped his hands around Kenshi's forearms, the swordsman relenting and letting Johnny guide his arms. Johnny's hands snake up to Kenshi's wrist, as he leans forwards and urges the man to get closer to you. "Just..." Johnny's voice is already breathy, as he places Kenshi's hands on your waist. "Like this." Somehow, it was surprising that Johnny didn't start... higher.

Kenshi scoffed, tilting his head towards Johnny. "Really?" While his hands were comfortable, even Kenshi had been expecting something more scandalous from Johnny. His tone was sarcastic, causing you to laugh a little.

"Hey! Where else am I supposed to start?" Johnny pouted, squeezing Kenshi's wrists. Kenshi sighs, and lets the actor have his moment. "Alright, alright, I'll get to the damn point." Johnny speaks as if he wasn't just begging you two to start, shaking his head. His eyes meet yours, asking the same question Kenshi had before. You nod, and lean into Kenshi's hands. With this, Johnny leads Kenshi's hands up under your shirt, just under your breasts. Not quite there. He's got a sly smile on his face, as if he's in it to tease you. Johnny understands just what your body needs, and while he's confident in Kenshi's ability to make you writhe in pleasure. However, Kenshi wasn't so... intimate with your body like Johnny was. Not that he couldn't be.

Kenshi's fingers trace over your ribs, his touch gentle, almost as if he was afraid to hurt you. Your body shudders at the touch, a pleasant feeling sparking from his hands. Johnny smiles at this, his hands lingering on Kenshi's wrists, trailing down to his forearms, and finally letting go. Johnny gave Kenshi a quick peck on the cheek, before finally retreating to the chair he had pulled up next to the bed. His arousal was already clear, it seems the mention of something like this was enough to get him hard. Yet, he was being patient. Or trying to be, anyways. Johnny kept his hands clasped together, as if to prevent himself from touching himself. In fact, his knuckles were turning white.

Before you could comment, Kenshi brought his thumbs up to your sternum, lightly cupping your breasts. Your breath hitched, just slightly, as he slowly massaged them. He was uncannily attentive, his fingers tracing underneath your nipple. He seemed to enjoy how you waited for him, to take advantage of this opportunity. "Yeah, there you go," Johnny instructed, his impatience finally taking place in his voice. "He likes that, y'know?" Johnny was studying you, looking for any more signs of pleasure. His leg bounced, almost growing irritable. "Don't keep him waiting."

You could see Kenshi smirk, leaning in closer to you. He kept you on edge, caressing your boobs, but not quite touching your nipples. The teasing was almost getting to you. And Johnny, too. "Really, now?" Kenshi's voice was full of mischief, tilting his head back to look at you. "So... If I were to..." Finally, he ran his thumb over your left bud, causing you to bite your lip. Only once.

"C'mon, darlin'... if not for me, for him," Johnny pleaded, leaning forward in his chair. "What, do I have to show you exactly how to do it?" He unclasped his hands, making a motion as if he were to get up.

Kenshi tilted his head towards Johnny once more, raising an eyebrow. "If you don't mind," He insisted, still keeping his hands underneath your breasts. He could do this by himself, by the end of the night he would've had your whole body memorized. But he couldn't turn down Johnny's request.

Johnny groans and get up out of his seat, once more placing his hands on Kenshi's wrists. He wastes no time properly placing Kenshi's hands on your breasts. "Squeeze," He instructs, watching as you arch your back into Kenshi's touch. And when Kenshi does squeeze, hands gripping into the soft flesh, you can't help but let out a small 'mn,' in response. He treated your body as if you were fragile, yet his touch was full of lust. Johnny then guiding Kenshi's right hand back down to your stomach. "All yours." Johnny now hovered over you two, as if he were afraid Kenshi would spend the entire time just teasing you.

Kenshi finally relents, letting his right hand run down your stomach. It's erotic, his touch sensual. He's slow, as to map out your body. Johnny stayed close now, pressing his erection against the bed, through his pants. He was searching for any sort of release, just being able to watch Kenshi was excruciating. "Having fun, Cage?" Kenshi mocked, running his thumb over your nipple once more.

"Dammit, Kenshi," Johnny grunted, grinding against the sheets. "Y'know... you don't have to be so goddamn-"

"Slow?" Kenshi spoke for Johnny, his right hand finding the band of your boxers underneath your sweats. Johnny's breath hitches, as if this was the release he was seeking. Yet, Kenshi simply traces along your waist, the line leading further to your core. "What, am I not allowed to enjoy our darling's body...?" Now, he was just teasing Johnny. "Is this not what you wanted?"

"No! No... I, uhm," Johnny backs off, his face flush. "Shit," He was almost afraid that this moment would end. You pushed yourself closer to Kenshi, in attempt to make sure it didn't. You were eager, and perhaps Kenshi would understand that. "He wants it- just- I- Ugh..." Johnny stumbled over his words, watching as you push yourself further into Kenshi's touch.

"Really, is this what you want, my dear?" Kenshi smiles all too innocently, addressing you once more. His fingers stay placed firmly in the band of your boxers, his left hand finally leaving your breast. You whimper at the loss of touch, somehow the absence of it turned you on more. "I need to hear you say it."

You bite your lip, making eye contact with Johnny once more. He nods enthusiastically- neither of you can take it. "Yea..." You whisper, your voice breathy. "Please." You plead.

"Then," Kenshi nods, tugging at your sweatpants now. "I won't keep you waiting." You do not hesitate. You shuffle your legs out from underneath your body, so he can pull your sweats off. And he does. Johnny lets out a sigh, leaning back against the bed.

"Thighs," Johnny points, making direct eye contact with you once more. "His thighs are the most sensitive." He instructs, happy to finally continue. Kenshi follows, near immediately.

"Like this?" Kenshi's right hand runs down your inner thigh, taking his time. He traces each stretchmark, reveling in the warmth. In response, you let out a sweet moan, closing your eyes and enjoying the moment.

"Yeaaah..." Johnny smirks, his hand finally meeting his own erection. He let out a soft moan at the temporary bliss, watching how you squirmed, pushing your legs into Kenshi's touch. "His collarbone, too... he likes it there."

Kenshi followed, once more. He leaned in, closing the distance between your bodies. His lips find your neck first, not out of clumsiness, no, simply to put you on edge. You groan, craning your neck to the side to allow him more access. He does not play into this, however. He trails his teeth lightly down your neck, and finds your collarbone. He kisses you once more, only rewarding you after you let out a soft sigh. He bites, this time, and your hands find his shoulders.

"Awh, you've made him all red," Johnny points out, finally freeing himself of his pants. "Just like that, Ken-Doll." His hand snakes down into his own boxers, caressing his tip gently. His eyes burn into you, intent on following your own pleasure.

Kenshi's hand creeps closer and closer to your pussy. Yet shies away at the last minute. You whimper once more, feeling his breath against your skin. Goosebumps riddle your body, as you search for some sort of entrance, pressing your body further into him. You lean your head into his shoulder, letting out a shaky breath. Kenshi pulls away and places his left hand on your head, toying with your hair. He turns his head over to Johnny and grins at him.

Johnny just stares back, furrowing his brows and pouting once more. Somehow, you getting all of Kenshi's attention... and Kenshi getting all of you... He closes his eyes and rubs away the thought, teasing himself. "Give him what he wants," He demands, inching closer to you and Kenshi. And when Kenshi doesn't follow his direct order, he finally joins you two on the bed.

You raise your head, looking at Johnny through messy hair. There's a darker look in his eyes, not jealousy... maybe jealousy. He takes his spot behind Kenshi and leans over the man's shoulder, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. At the same time, not only does Kenshi's hand creep closer to your boxers once more, Johnny's hands find their way into Kenshi's pants. In tandem, the three of you moan. Johnny's pressed himself against Kenshi's back, grinding like a dog. Kenshi tilts his head back, moaning right into Johnny's ear. The sudden stimulation brings Kenshi's hands into your boxers, too. Ignoring all hesitation and teasing before. His hand enters through the leg, however his left hand grabs onto the waistband and pulls near immediately.

Johnny smiles at the chaos he's created, the stimulation he so urgently wanted- needed. His eyes land on your exposed bottom half, your pussy slick. Waiting. Kenshi's hand firmly gripping your thigh now, bucking his hips into Johnny's hand. "Now that's better, right?" Johnny taunts, glad to finally get this party started. Kenshi nods, slightly. Almost embarrassed to enjoy this. Johnny chuckles, leaning back closer to you. He picks up the speed of his ministrations, leaving Kenshi to bite his lip and suppress his pleasure. "And what about you, sweetheart?" His eyes glide now your frame, from your face, to your clothed torso, to your entrance.

You lowered your head, feeling your face and ears heat up. You couldn't speak, watching Kenshi enjoy the feeling of Johnny's hands, the swordsman's fingers digging into the soft warm flesh of your thigh still. Your words caught in your throat, you inch slightly closer to the two. Johnny closes the distance between you and him, placing another soft kiss on your lips. Only a peck, as he nudged Kenshi with his shoulder. "Don't forget about him, hm?" To see Johnny take such a dominant, teasing role was almost a dream come true. Yet, still uncanny.

Kenshi returns his focus to you, holding back more soft noises and reaching both hands out to you, holding you by your waist. His grip was firm, letting out a sigh. He was withholding his own pleasure, now intent on getting you off. Johnny chuckles, simply holding Kenshi's dick in his hand now. He let the swordsman take control of his own pleasure. Kenshi's touch was more erratic now, trailing back up your sides. Sometimes, he'd go slow, and sometimes he'd go quicker, as if he was ready for this interaction to reach its climax. Regardless, he seemed adamant on making sure you enjoyed his touch as much as he enjoyed exploring your body. As you watch Kenshi's hands make their way underneath your shirt once more, a lightbulb goes off in Johnny's head.

"Hey, Kenshi, Stop," Johnny starts, his hands retreating from Kenshi's dick. At this, the swordsman relaxes. However, despite how hard Kenshi had tried to hide it, the sudden absence of Johnny's touch clearly made him want more. "You'll love this." He gets off the bed, and grabs you by your waist. You squeak, as he turns you to the side, with your legs now dangling off the bed. Out of Kenshi's hands. Johnny does not explain further, simply directing Kenshi to sit behind you. Kenshi hesitates, but does so, regardless.

"What is your game, Cage?" Kenshi asks, taking his place behind you. His hands still firmly planted on your hips. Johnny grins, but doesn't respond. He simply finds Kenshi's right hand once more, and guides it up over your shirt, to your neck.

"Don't choke him, just," Johnny bites his lip, proud of his unspoken idea. "Just feel, I guess..." With that, he finally snakes down, placing his hands on your knees. Kenshi wraps his hand around your neck gently, just as Johnny instructed. He rests his chin on your shoulder, as if to watch Johnny. The actor looks up at you, now on his knees. His hands slowly make their way up to the insides of your thighs, parting them as you let out a low sigh. You hear Kenshi's breath hitch, Johnny's idea finally clicking in his head.

"Cage, you dog," Kenshi remarks, adjusting his position slight, pulling his pants down. Just enough for you to feel the heat spring from his boxers.

Johnny ignores Kenshi's comment, and looks up at you, with pleading eyes. "May I?" His tone is scandalous, his smirk ever-present. You nod once more, and Johnny goes in. His plan in full swing, now. You can't escape. His hands keep your thighs apart, and before you can realize the actor's marvelous plan, warmth hits your core. Johnny's tongue enters within your folds, staying still for a couple minutes as if to taste you. You whimper at this, arching your back and grinding into Johnny's tongue. Kenshi was enjoying the vibrations of your sweet sounds against his palm, placing a quick kiss on your shoulder. Johnny wasted no time, lapping at your pussy as if he had been hungry. With each moan, sigh, and stutter that escapes your lips, Kenshi rewards you with a another kiss. From your shoulder, to the crook of your neck, to your jaw.

Johnny moans into you, digging his nails into your thighs. He keeps you still, as you relish in his tongue, arching your back and exposing more of your neck for Kenshi to feel. For once, Kenshi thought, Johnny's idea wasn't half bad. He enjoyed this more than he liked to admit. He heard you, alright. Whining for Johnny, begging for more. His tongue flicks across your clit, producing a louder, stifled moan from you. After that, his tongue curls back inside you, searching for more. You are almost too caught up within the pleasure to notice that Kenshi's left hand follows down your body, hovering just above your pussy. It is only when you feel a digit enter you that you realize what Kenshi is doing. You yelp once more, pushing your back into Kenshi.

Kenshi laughs at your helplessness, trapped between both men. His thumb pays special attention to your clit, providing a sensitive tingling burning through your body. "Good boy," He whispered against the shell of your ear, his voice gruff. "Letting me explore you... I'm not done, you understand?" You can feel Johnny laugh against you, as Kenshi begins to fuck you with his fingers. His pace is slow, out... in... out... as opposed to Johnny's quick and desperate pace with his tongue. Kenshi keeps his right hand on your neck, still, reveling in the feeling of your pleasure and whimpering and whining and crying. His thumb continues to rub gentle circles on your clit, as Johnny's hands begin to roam your thighs. This only makes you moan more.

"Joh- fffuuhhh- ahn," Your words slur together, the differing paces in pleasure providing a pool of electricity welling up within you. You do not know who's name to cry, "Kensh---" As you are cut off by another wave of pleasure, as Kenshi toys with your clit, now swollen. Was Johnny's idea even needed? Kenshi seemed to have already mapped out your body in his heads, and yet, against Johnny's tongue, he almost knew your folds more.

Johnny pulls away momentarily, looking up at you. He licks his lips, letting out a satisfying sigh as you whimper from the loss of contact. "You taste so good, sweetheart," His eyes fall to Kenshi's finger, as the swordsman works another digit into your entrance. Johnny watches, content with what he's started. "All red, and needy..." Johnny enjoys the warmth of your thighs now, leaning his head to the left as he watches Kenshi's tattooed hands slowly unravel you. "How does that feel, hm? You like it?"

You can only nod, finding all sorts of lewd noises slipping from your mouth. Kenshi fingers you slowly, still. As if to the rhythm of your heartbeat. His breath hot against your neck, his left hand squeezing ever so slightly. Yet, he does not restrict your breathing. He seeks out to feel more of your sounds, groaning and begging for him to pick up the pace. He doesn't give in, however. He does this to remember your walls, every ripple, the texture, and just how wet you are. Kenshi must admit, this is more pleasurable than Johnny's hand down his pants.

Meanwhile, Johnny simply rubs your thigh, tracing every single stretch mark with his thumb. You jerk into Kenshi's fingers, grinding out once more. That soft, dull pressure builds just below your stomach, an electetricfying feeling shot up your spine. Your moans loose all coherency, begging inaudibly for more. Neither man acts on your pleas, driving you closer to your climax, slowly.

"Yeah, yeah... just like that," Johnny hums, finding it oddly comfortable to just watch. He made no move to pleasure himself, nor did Kenshi. "Go ahead, baby." He urges, as you grind up into Kenshi's fingers more. Kenshi does not budge on his pace, still. However, his thumb speeds up ever so slightly.

"This is what you want, no?" Kenshi teases, kissing the crook of your neck once more. You only whine in response, desperately nodding your head. Your body craves release more so than your mind, seeking to feel the weight release, snap, and spill out onto Kenshi's hand. With each thrust of his fingers, your legs shake, your thighs threaten to close. Yet Johnny stops them.

"Nuh uh, not happenin', sweetheart," Johnny uses both of his hands to push open your legs, wider. "I gotta see ya." With this, you let out another lengthy whine, before biting your lip. Somehow, this grants Kenshi better access. His fingers pick up the pace ever so slightly, your mind teeters on the brink of ecstasy. His fingers only reach slightly deeper, closer to your core.

Your eyes roll back, leaning your head against Kenshi's and making direct eye contact with Johnny. Not a moment later does that coil snap, cumming all over Kenshi's fingers. Your body twitches into his hand, each wave pushing more and more of your much needed release out of you. Johnny chuckles once more, Kenshi listens almost too intently to your moans. Somehow, still begging for more.

Slowly, Kenshi's fingers leave you, the last waves of pleasure exiting your body through moans. You slowly come down from your high, as Johnny pushes himself up from his position on the floor. Kenshi praises you once more, inaudible as the afterglow washes over you.

[struckd0wn]

Could you make s'more Johnny Sawyer/Slaughter content pls? There's legit zero to none f'him with m/ftm readers, your kinktober fic of'him is the first i've seen in the time span the game's been out /(;^;)\

a/n: I am so sorry I am just now getting to this, I'm also sorry if this is not exactly what you imagined for a fic, I was just thinking off the top of my head lol

Tw: blood and cannibalism

Bath time - Johnny Sawyer

You're covered in deep crimson blood. It drips off of you, seeping into you clothes. It's smeared all over your skin, you face and arms getting the worst of it. You had helped with the weekly dismembering, chopping up bodies the family would eat for dinner. You still refused to eat the flesh of strangers, opting for eggs you'd get from the chickens around the farm.

Johnny comes up from behind you, wrapping his muscular arms around you. "Nice job baby," The taller male whispers into your ear, kissing along the crook of your neck. "Your so hot when you're dripping in blood, you look so badass." Your boyfriend teases, turning you around in his arms so he can meet your eyes. You complain about the mess, annoyed from the strong metallic smell that was starting to give you a headache.

Although Johnny didn't really mind the mess, he didn't know if he wanted to deal with you begin irritated for the rest of the day so he drags you into the house. You're careful to not touch anything once inside, not wanting to dirty anything as you walk up the stairs and to the bathroom.

The bathroom is poorly lit, not extremely clean but it's not to terrible. It's small, Johnny takes up a lot of the space as he undresses, throwing his bloodied clothes all over the floor. You think to scold him, the clothes would surely mess up the floor but you don't say anything, turning your back to the large male as you strip. You hear John shuffle behind you, placing his large hands on the waistband of you jeans, jeans that were actually his. He slides them over you hips, letting them drop the the floor with a soft thud.

His hands roam along you sides and abdomen, fingers further smearing the blood on your soft skin. You want to enjoy his touch but when his bare chest meats you back you can feel the blood on him rub of on you, pushing him of with a gentle jab to his gut with you elbow. You lover laughs playfully, turning the shower on to warm. You cover yourself with the best of your ability, and although you shouldn't be so self-conscious (seeing as Johnny has seen you in such vulnerable states before), you can't help but feel a little insecure in comparison to him.

Johnny has much more muscle mass then you, his chest and back are defined from hard work on the farm. His legs as strong and he shoulders broad. Top surgery had helped your dysphoria a bit but now everytime you look at your boyfriend you felt a bit jealous, or maybe even a yearning. Johnny, of course, was oblivious to this. He was brought up extremely sheltered, only able to get out to hunter for dinner.

Johnny hadn't seen much trans people at all and to be fair he didn't really understand but always respected people regardless. You've tried to explain to him but he just hasn't fully grasped the concept yet, doesn't understand why you'd be jealous of his physique. John thinks you're stunning regardless.

----

The two of you sit in the tub together, deciding after your shower to just relaxe a bit in the bath. The bathtub is small, Johnny has to bend his legs at the knee to fit, you sit in between his legs, leaning against his strong chest. His hand rake through you wet hair, almost sending you to sleep. "Don't fall asleep on me now." A chuckle rumbles through his chest, making the water ripple around you.

Johnny shuffles underneath you, his fingers hold you tight against him. He kisses the nape of your neck, his callused hands kneed the soft flesh of your thighs from under the water. You turn to your side, looking at your boyfriend as he lazily drags his hands all over you. He watches your flustered expression as he caresses you, smirking down at you wildly. The bigger male grabs hold of your waist, turning you so you face him directly.

You struggle to straddling Johnny in the cramped bathtub, but you manage. He pulls you into him, kissing you roughly as the water around you sloshed around. He palms at the flesh of you ass, squeezing it softly. You moan pathetically into his mouth when you feel his erection throb underneath you. John moves a hand off of you ass, bringing it to your front and inbetween the both of you. He runs his fingers through you folds, the sensation of water adding additional wetness to your already leaking cunt. You moan again, only louder, your lover chuckles deeply, pressing another quick kiss to your swollen lips. "You'll have to keep quiet, we don't know who's all in the house."

You blush brightly at the thought of the others hearing you. You know Drayton is probably in the house, either cooking food or tidying up the kitchen. Bubba would most likely be outside, but you're unsure of where Nubbins and Sissy might be. While you're distracted the man below you slides a finger into you pussy, brushing against the spot that drives you insane. He smiled as you try to keep quiet, shoving your face into the crook of his neck to do so.

Johnny groans lowly after hearing you moan his name, feeling you rub against his erection needely as he fucks you on his long fingers. He hoped to tease you a bit longer but he really can't help himself. The bigger male removes his fingers from your cunt but he's sure to replace it soon after with the tip of his cock. You whine as he pushes into your heat, filling you effortlessly. "Fuck baby, you feel so good." He purrs, holding your ass in both hands and he grinds you against his cock.

The strain of trying to keep quiet almost gives you a headache, biting down on your boyfriends collarbone to hush yourself. Johnny hisses at the pain, laughing at your futile attempts. "You know what, let then hear you. I want them to hear how good I fuck you." He teases, watching you turn bright red at the thought. You shake your head no, biting down on him harder to maybe silence his teasing. He continues regardless, lifting you up and down on his cock, the water around the two of you splashing slightly, some ever spilling out of the tub and onto the bathroom floor.

"You looked so hot earlier, dripping in blood," John reminds you, mouth falling open in a silent groan, composing himself before he continues to talk. "It got me so hard, it was difficult to keep working. I was waiting for this." Your lover continues to ramble on, thrusting up into you harshly. "Next time will you let me fuck you like that, covered in blood." The thought eggs him on, speeding up as he imagines it. You can't even respond, fucked dumb on his shaft as he plows into your wet cunt.

Inevitably it was impossible for you to stay quiet, and to be fair John was being much louder than you anyways. What a hypocrite. Your orgasms coils in the pit of you stomach, you grow louder and louder, ultimately forgetting your embarrassment and need to be quite. His name spills from your lips, whining loudly before you cum, shaking in his strong arms.

Johnny curses profanities, feeling your pussy clench and pulse around him in result of your orgasm. His grip on you is tight, leaving bruises on your soft flesh. "Yeah just like that darling." He mumbles, it doesn't take long for Johnny to cum, filling you full of his warm seed. He uses you to ride out his orgasm, making you cry out in overstimulation.

The water stills and both of your laboured breaths filll the small room. You whince as the bigger man pulls you off of him, soiling the water with a mixture of both of your juices.

After a bit, johnny stands, pulling you up with him. He dries you off gently before wrapping the towel around your naked form, tying his own towel around his waist. He kisses you sweetly on the forehead, draining the tub before leading you twords the bathroom door.

You almost run right into the figure on the other side, Johnny has to stop you with a strong arm. Bubba stands there awkwardly, silent as per usual. You hold the towel against yourself tightly, averting your gaze in embarrassment. "Hey, don't you know it's weird to ease drop!" Johnny exclaims, pushing the masked man to the side.

"There's no need too, we could all hear you anyways." You hear Sissy scoffs as she descends the wooden staircase.

Well, dinner tonight was going to be awkward.

[pfhwrittes]

sure sure i could work on any of my other wips but i have the urge to write something smutty involving johnny finding out the lad he fancies has a pussy, causing johnny to wonder if it would be disrespectful of him to name his fleshlight after his crush :/ like is that transphobic? maybe he should just ask his crush if he’d rather have johnny’s dildo named after him instead? :/

[yanderestarangel]

HEADKANONS MK1 | "𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐁𝐎 𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋" - 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓 𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 + 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐊 

TW: afab anatomy, v!sex, blowjob, handjob, anal sex, aggressive sex, himbo/bimbo reader, praise, degradation, ftm reader, objectification, dumbification, rec!sex.

JOHNNY CAGE, KENSHI, LIU KANG, SHANG TSUNG, RAIN.

He'll beg you to give him a handjob, with your new nails, which he bought himself. He loves to spoil you - he pays everything for you, like a man in need of attention and love who will do everything to make you as beautiful as possible just to fuck you and make him his own, showing you off like a damn luxury doll.

"-I love your small, soft hands on my dick baby boy." He would moan between cuts, while you smeared your hands with his cum, teasing him even more, massaging the fat, shiny head of his dick, he feels so squeamish when you deny him an orgasm - he even promises to buy you everything you want, just to feel your hands or beautiful mouth on his pulsing member.

"-Hmmph- I'll do it all baby- just be daddy's handsome himbo and make me cum- oh yes yes! Just like that, such a handsome boy- I'll buy whatever you want fuuck!-"

But when he takes control again, he destroys you, fucking you mercilessly over and over again, without any protection on his shaft - which was already totally dirty from him having cum once or twice inside your holes - you could feel his cum running down between your ass cheeks, and he would take the opportunity to fuck your second hole too, alternating his cock between your cunt and ass, forcing your legs to open and thrust into you with even more force than before, until you were overstimulated and crying, begging and babbling about him stopping... But he wouldn't.

"-I could never resist stuffing my perfect little toy."

RAIDEN, BI HAN, HAVIK, REIKO, SHAO KHAN.

He would fuck you everywhere he could, lifting you into his strong arms, ripping off your wet panties, slapping your ass hard and lifting the thin fabric of the mini skirt you were wearing - just to tease him - he loves it when you play dirty with him, just to get him to fuck you until you're leaking with his cum through your pussy.

"-That's what you wanted, wasn't it, pretty boy? Just to be fucked by my dick and become even dumber?" He growled as he shoved his thick length into your cunt, making you arch your back and buck up even more for him.

"-This is how a little thing like you needs to be fucked, this is what you deserve for being such a tease..." His balls hit your clit, while your thighs trembled from the intensity of the violent jerk, he just wants to make sure that you be a fucking, crying mess when he's completely done with you - he'll also fuck you in front of any minimally mirrored surface, showing you how beautiful you look with his dick directly dipped in your pussy, you could see your makeup starting becoming blurred by the tears of pleasure that fell as his dick hit your core tirelessly.

"-Look at yourself my little whore, you're just a pretty boy with a cute pussy- oh fuck I really am lucky to have such a good slut like you." He held your hair tightly, as he once again emptied his hot seed into your wetness, making you tremble and moan his name uncontrollably. He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your neck as his fingers traced lazy circles around your swollen clit.

"-I bet you're already wet again, let's just see how much you can cum today."

TOMAS VRBADA, KUAI LIANG, SYZOTH, GERAS.

He loves looking at your pretty face, especially if you're on your knees worshiping his dick on your glossy lips, he loves the warm feeling of your tongue passing over his every sensitive beam, focusing only on the fat tears that flow from your eyes as he you struggled to get his entire length down your throat.

"-Come on boy doll, just be a good boy and swallow my dick..." He moaned hoarsely, holding your head with both hands, his balls hit your chin repeatedly, dirtying you both, you moaned needily against his dick, he knew how much you wanted to cum, how much you needed his cock inside you, but he wanted to first fuck you until you couldn’t scream anymore.

"-You take everything so well, taking me like a good boy." He slaps your face with his throbbing cock, wet with your saliva, watching you beg for more, beg to be fucked even harder by him.

"-You liked that, didn't you, baby? You love it when I take control... You're such a perfect prince for me, fuck I can't wait to see how tight you are after that blowjob." He grabbed you roughly, opening your thighs under the hardest surface he could see, your pussy was looking for contact, the shiny and sensitive flesh just from having sucked his dick made him lose complete control.

"-Beg me to fuck you like the pathetic bitch you are." He'll record every reaction you make with his dick inside you, showering you with dirty praise as you enjoy yourself on top of his dick, with your thighs shaking and your body slowly going out of control.

"-Look at the camera dear boy, me let me see your pretty face while you cum like a dirty slut-"

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

[dantefreakdaaaa]

soft sex with present! johnny in mk11

Just him holding you gently as he kisses you all over, whispering all sorts of sweet things to you. About how he loves you so much, about how he needs you. Just locking hands with him and ARGEGRGRGRG RE R

[heartsoremania]

would anyone actually want to read some nastyyy ftm!Johnny smut bc I've got something filthy cooking in my head rn

does this count as a sneak-peek or

[writing-mlm]

Will you love me again?

Summary: Simon’s returned home after 20 years but the suitors have finally grown restless of waiting for you to pick a new King of Ithaca. Pairing: King!Simon Riley x King!Ftm!reader Wc: 6.1k Tags/Warning: Canon-level violence, talks/planning of S/A, Epic the Musical Ithaca Saga spoilers! Most of the words are literally lyrics so ig song fic, oral (r!receiving), fingering, stomach bulge, reader has a vagina, no protection, creampie

His skin remembers the touch of your lips, the way they’d press against his tense muscles, the way they’d kiss his scars and carry soft whispers and songs. How your hands would touch him, run up his arms, cradle his face, and remove his helmet. He remembers the sound of your voice, how you’d talk to him while weaving against the window, your kingdom standing below your castle. 

The castle he’d built all those years ago as a declaration of his love for you. A castle that grew colder as the years stretched on since he’s been there; taken away for a war. 

A war, born from a greedy man kidnapping your cousin. A war Simon hadn’t wanted to participate in because, despite his oath to your cousin's husband, the Trojans have never helped Ithaca in their times of need. And even more so, he had you, his husband, and your newborn to watch over. To protect. He’d only agreed to help after he’d been tricked. 

A war that was supposed to be no more than five years had turned into a twenty-year journey. He’d left a twenty-year-old, rising to power in Ithaca with a newborn son. Now he’s forty, his home just out of sight, and his son would be twenty. He imagines how you must look now. How your hair must’ve greyed, how you picked the hyacinths and bluebells from the garden. 

He wonders how his son is doing, what he likes, and what he’s accomplished. How he’s missed his whole life. 

Simon strains as he pushes the raft from the island, the goddess he left on the sandy shores crying for him. Begging him to stay; she loves him. He loathes her. He loathes the years he’s stayed trapped on that island, how she’d been persistent on loving him. Gods, provided she wasn’t a goddess, he would’ve killed her the first time she even hinted at such. 

His head hurts when he remembers his fallen friends; Gaz, Price— and Johnny. He’d gotten his brother killed, he let all of them, all six hundred men die under his watch. The cyclops, Scylla, Circe— Zeus, Poseidon. He recognizes the pain turning into red-hot anger as he pushes past Charybdis. These past years cannot have been in vain. The souls that haunt his dreams won’t have died in vain. 

He’ll make it home, he’s sure of that. 

—

You stare at the suitors gathered at the palace gates, angry men eager to become the next king one way or another. All the while your son, Johnny, stands in front of them with a spear and your old armor. You know that look in his eyes, that Athena's determination he has because Simon had it, too. 

You sigh, undoing the threads you’d made the day before. For the funeral shroud you’ve been making for ten years with the promise that once it’s done, you’ll pick from the suitors and give Ithaca a new king. You almost laugh when you remember how many years ago that had been now. How foolish the suitors had been to agree to your demand. How you fear you’ll have to finish it one of these days. 

You look at your sword hung in the corner of the room. You remember your newly made armor, tucked in your closet, the new bow and arrow next to it. You remember the feeling of warm blood on your hands. 

Even if you must finish the shroud they’ll never get their wishes. No one will rule alongside you and if you must, you’ll take a queen. Perhaps some common woman with nothing better to do; drown her with all the things a queen would desire all the while you continue your duties as king. 

Standing, you close the curtains to the window and grab your sword. It feels like home in your hands, reminders of your time as a warrior of Sparta and then Ithaca. You’ve never forgotten your lessons, the teachings so ingrained in your very being they feel like second nature when you swipe the air. 

It’ll need to be sharpened before tomorrow. 

That night a storm rages on the coast of Ithaca. You watch from the balcony, the wind blowing your hair and clothes as you try to see inside of the storm. Poseidon fights, you can tell that much, and gods, you know in your bones. You know it’s time to set your plan in motion. 

You call a maid to send the news; the Challenge you’d set up after five years of Simon being gone was happening. You rush to gather Simon’s old bow, carefully undoing the string while the servants gather twelve axes from the armory. 

—

“I’ll be back soon,” Johnny promises the next morning. You stand at the pier, watching as he loads onto a boat; about to head off for a mission for the kingdom. 

“I know you will,” You smile, giving him a dagger that he places on his thigh strap. You don’t pretend to notice the group of angry suitors hiding behind ships, watching as you watch your son leave. Leaving you alone for who knows how long, the mission shouldn’t take longer than a day, though. 

As the ship leaves, you look at where the storm had raged, sure that you see a small object floating towards Ithaca shores. You smile, hanging your head before thanking whatever God had allowed him home and return to the castle. The suitors follow, ready for the challenge you’d sent messengers to talk about that morning. You ride your horse back, letting them climb the mountain to the castle as you prepare for what’s to come. 

Their footsteps are heavy, echoing in the halls as a maid guides them to the throne room. You sit at your throne, the half-finished shroud draped over Simon’s throne. His crown sits under it, shining like the first day it was made. A reminder to them and yourself that your husband is out there, that they’ll never sit on that throne as long as you’re alive.

As you look around, you inhale and look over the crowd of men. There are dozens of them, some bigger, some smaller. All of them hungry for power, all of them greedy in a way that makes your stomach turn. 

You stand, shoulders back and head held high as hold back a deep, etching frown. 

“The Challenge,” You start as the murmurs die into a silence that had overtaken the castle all those years ago. You grip the bow, raising it in the air for everyone to see.  “Whoever can string my husband's old bow and shoot through twelve axes cleanly,” Your gaze travels to the axes, lined up in a straight line, the hole only just big enough to allow an arrow to slide through. “Will be the new king and rule with me.” Cheers echo through the halls and you hand the bow to the first suitor before you take your seat. Your throne.

You hope Simon knows that you’re buying him time; that you’ve bought him twenty years of time to return. That he’ll climb the mountain from the shores to the castle before they grow behind restless. Bloodthirsty with one goal on their mind. You hope your son doesn’t come back to see you in such a state if Simon doesn’t make it on time. 

They grow more frustrated as the hours tick by and they find that no one can string the bow. Eventually, the sun sets and you tell them they can try again tomorrow. They all agree, with some grumbles and you take the bow back from a suitor who bares his teeth at you. He resembles a beast, a beast that you don’t dignify with a reaction. 

—

“Screw this competition,” A man that Simon knows all too well, Graves, snarls as he tosses his old bow to the ground. “We’ve been here for hours. None of us can string this; we don’t have the power. Screw this damn challenge!” He rakes his hands through his hair, the stress clear in his actions that make Simon proud. Of course, you’d set up something only he could do, of course, you’d waited all these years for him to return.

“No more delay. Don’t you see that we’ve been played?” Grave’s eyes travel amongst the men crowded around him. Men that are so easily swayed by simple words that it makes Simon seethe. “This is how he holds us down as the throne gets colder. Hold us down as we slowly age. Hold us down while the boy gets bolder.” Grave continues, daring to even hint about Simon and your son. “Where the hell is our pride and our rage?” A couple of the men agree, egged on by each other's stupidity. 

“Here and now,” Another man says as Grave smirks; clearly his plan is working. Like a moth to a flame, they take his bait. “There’s a chance for action; we can take control. Here and now we can burn it to ashes.” Too big for his pants, Simon assumes. 

He leaves for a moment, gathering their weapons and hiding them in the armory, making sure to leave it unlocked before he returns to their conversation. By that point more men had gathered; you’d long since left the throne room so Simon didn’t worry about you hearing their voices any longer. 

“Haven’t you noticed who’s missing? Don’t you notice the prince is not around? I heard he’s on a diplomatic mission and I heard today he's coming back to town.” Grave continues, and crosses his arms over his chest. Simon’s eyes dart down from his place in the room, overlooking the shores of Ithaca as a boat slowly approaches. 

“So…?” A different man speaks from somewhere in the crowd. 

“I say we gather near the beaches. We wait till he arrives, then when he docks his ship I say we breach it. Let us leave now, today we can strike!” Grave doesn’t feel the sharp glare that hits his head as he speaks. Unaware that his words have just set his fate into motion; a fate that Simon has become oh so familiar with these past twenty years. 

“Hold him down, till the boy stops shaking.”

He counts the men; seventy in total. 

“Hold him down, while I slit his throat.”

He’s taken down worse. More. 

“Hold him down, while I slowly break his pride, his trust, his faith, and his bones!”

He can’t wait to watch them bleed. The feeling of their blood on his hands; something he hadn’t realized could feel so good until now. He wanted to chase it like they plan on chasing you and your son.

“Cut him down into tiny pieces. Throw him down in the great below that way when the crown wonders where the prince is only the ocean and I will know.” 

Watch their light leave their eyes; hear their screams. Beg him to spare them. The gurgling sound as they choke on their own blood.

“And when it’s done,” Grace smirks. “The king will have no one to stop us from breaking his bedroom door. Stop us from taking his love and more. And then we’ll…”

He’ll savor Graves the most, he quickly decides. He won’t dignify him with a fast death. He’ll hurt him, hold him down, and break his bones. He’ll drag him by his legs into town, parading him around to not only show he’s home to his throne, to his husband and his son but to show that anyone who had thought any different will face the same consequences. 

“Hold him down.”

“While the gate is open.”

“Hold him down.”

“While I get a taste and we share his spoils. I will not let any part go to waste.” 

He rises from his spot, his hand a deathly grip on his knife as the men try to leave the halls, one of them pointedly staggering behind. Drunk on wine. The perfect way to announce himself. 

He doesn’t waste a second, stabbing the man in the throat and he watches as he gurgles on his own blood as he returns to his perfectly hidden spot. He watches with glee as the light leaves his eyes, staring down at him as his body goes limp. 

The men stop at the door, having heard the noise. When they turn they only see a dead man and then nothing around him. Quicker than they can react, the torches around them snuff out one by one, and then the door behind them locks. Like rats they scramble, searching frantically on the ground for anything they can use to defend themselves. 

“Twenty years,” Simon growls. “I suffered from the wrath of Gods and monsters to the screams of my comrades. Watched my men die like cattle. I come back to my palace, desecrated and sacked like Troy. Worst of all,” He reaches into the darkness, grabbing a random man who shouts, tugging at Simon’s wrist to be let go. 

“I hear you dare to touch my husband and hurt my boy! I… have had… enough.” He snaps the man’s neck in three motions before stepping over his now limp body as he watches the men scramble in the dark. He supposes he should thank Calypso for living on such a dark island, now he can watch them as they scramble for torches. Lighting them with the nearby lighters. 

He grabs his bow, stringing it with ease while the others run in the castle. The darkness that shrouds them is emphasized by the setting sun. Simon struts after them, listening to their footsteps and breathing like a predator. 

“We have the advantage; we’ve the numbers and the might.” A man says, clearly not knowing who he’s up against.

“No!” Shouts a man who does, he wonders if they fought together before. Somehow that makes him all the more angry as he grabs an arrow from his quiver. “You don’t understand! This man plans for every fight.” An arrow flies through the air, stabbing him through the neck and the others shout, watching as he drops and the torch rolls away from his limp hand. Everyone scrambles away, fleeing down the hall. 

“Where is he? Where is he?” Someone shouts, his eyes as wide as they can go and he looks into the darkness. 

“Keep your heads down, he's aiming for the torches!” Someone else hisses and they all duck, holding the torches as high as they can manage without dropping it. 

“Our weapons! They’re missing!” Simon grins at the fear in the man’s tone, stringing another arrow. 

“We’re empty-handed,” Someone says, the realization that they’re fucked dawning on him. “Up against an archer.” He mutters, looking around the dark room. 

“Our only chance is to strike him in the darkness. We know these halls our odds can be titled.” Someone tries to comfort him before flinching at the sound of Simon’s snicker. 

“You don’t think I know my own palace? I built it!” Another arrow flies, hitting a man in the head. He walks after them as they run away. 

“It’s the old king!”

“No! Our leader is dead!” 

“Old king forgive us!”

“Let’s have open arms instead!” He stops walking, notching yet another arrow as he’s reminded of Gaz. His chest tightens when he remembers his friend, his brother. 

“No,” The arrow flies, he doesn’t care to see who it lands inside of. He knows Graves isn’t with this group and heads the other way; towards where he’d hidden their weapons. He’ll deal with the others later, for now only one person has a giant target on their back.

“Dammit,” Grave hisses as he opens the door to the armory. “He’s more cunning than I thought. While we were plotting he hid our weapons in here.” He waves the torch through the room, each weapon highlighted by the burning flame. 

“I find it hard to believe that the sharpest of kings left his armory unlocked,” A man mutters, his frantic eyes looking outside of the room because he knows what’s out there, waiting for him. 

“So what?” Grave scoffs as he grabs his sword. “Let’s make the bastard rot.”

“Behind you!” He spins, watching as Simon stabs a man through the chest with a sword, his piercing eyes glaring at Graves over the man’s shoulder. The man collapses to the floor while Simon takes the sword out, flicking the blood onto the walls. 

“Put the weapons down and I’ll spare you,” He tells the men and immediately they do but Graves doesn’t. Simon tilts his head, eyes flickering to the ten men around Graves. 

“How do you dare? Haven’t you seen what he’ll do to us?” Someone asks him, his hands held up in fear.

“The prince!” Someone shouts and Simon makes the mistake of looking behind him. The men in the armory jump on his back without hesitation, shouting to attack the prince that way he’ll have to stand down. Simon struggles against them, his sword clattering to the ground when he sees the torches illuminating his son. 

He chokes as he sees his son falling to the ground, scrambling to his dagger that had gotten thrown in the fight. 

“Stop struggling and we’ll show you mercy,” Grave whispers in Simon’s ear, holding his hair in an iron-tight grip. 

“Mercy?” A voice cuts and Simon feels blood running down his cloak. He hears the sound of someone being impaled and then another in quick succession. The weight on his back lessens and he charges forward. 

“Mercy?” Simon bellows, taking harsh steps toward the now-fallen Graves. Unable to find his footing again as more men die around him. “My mercy long since drowned. It died to bring me home. And as long as you're around my family's fate is left unknown. You plotted to kill my son.” In one motion he scoops Graves up, bringing him to his feet and then against the wall. The tip of his blade presses against the man’s neck as his eyes squeeze shut, feet trying to find purchase aside from the tips of his toes on the cold marble floors. 

“You planned to rape my husband! All of you are going to die!” He stabs Graves six times, huffing as the body slumps against him and then against the wall when Simon shoves him away. 

He stands tall, listening to the shouts of the scared, trapped men as their fates quickly find them. He knows who is fighting at his side; he knows so well but he doesn’t register it until everyone is dead. Until the torches line the walls and he sees his foes splayed on the floors. 

“Father?” The sword in his hand clatters to the ground as he spins around. Johnny stands where he was once pinned down, blood dusting his tunic and his face. None of which is his own, Simon thanks the gods for that fact.

“Son,” His voice cracks as he takes a step forward. His chest heaves as he looks at his boy, and how he’s grown into a man. Johnny rushes forward, pulling him into a hug. 

“I’ve waited my whole life for you. Twenty years,” He cries into Simon’s chest, his sobs growing as he feels his father's tight embrace. 

“Oh my son, look how much you’ve grown,” He whispers, fighting back his own tears. “Oh, my boy. My sweetest joy. I captured the wind and sky for you.”

“My son, I'm finally home.” He finally cries, looking at his son's face for the first time in twenty years. He sees you in him, he sees himself. Simon presses his forehead to Johnny’s, holding the back of his neck as he cries. He cries and he weeps, relief, something he hasn’t felt in years, floods his body as all of the suffering he’s endured has been worth it. 

“My love?” He hates to look away but he does, his chest tight when he sees you removing your helmet. Your sword stuck in some man’s chest as your feet carried you across the hall and into his arms. 

He calls you, your name falling from his lips and you cry into his neck. You’d nearly forgotten the sound of it on his tongue. 

“Is it you?” You ask, pushing away from him after the initial shock. He’d warned you all those years ago, not to trust anyone who looked like him. He knew the Gods and their tricks; you knew them, too. “Have my prayers been answered? Or am I dreaming again?” 

“I am no’ the man you fell in love with,” He admits as your eyes scan over him. You pick apart everything about him that’s changed over the years as doubt creeps in the back of your mind. “I am not the man you once adored; I am not your kind and gentle husband and I am not the love you knew before.” You frown as he takes your hands, falling to his knees before looking up at you. With a gaze, you tell Johnny to leave the two of you for now. 

“Would you fall in love with me again if you knew all I’ve done? The things I cannot change. Would you love me all the same? I know that you’ve been waiting for love.” He begs, his bleary eyes unable to look at anything but you.

You nod, holding his face before guiding him up to his feet. “What kind of things did you do?” His head dips down in shame as the two of you move to stand outside in your garden. Free of blood and bodies as you sit under the olive tree he’d planted for you all those years ago. 

“Left a trail of blood on every island. I traded friends as though they were objects. Hurt more lives than I can count. But all so I could come back to you.” He cries, holding your face, his cries growing as you lean into the touch. “Tell me, please. Would you fall in love with me again?” 

“If that’s true,” You start, moving his hand from your face and he falters, eyes darting between yours as if they’ll reveal your choice before your voice does. “Could you do me a favor?” 

“Anything,” He nods. 

“Just a moment of labor that would bring me some peace. See that wedding bed? Could you carry it over? Lift it high on your shoulders and take it far from here?” You ask, your eyes darting between his own as you wait. Wait as you’ve done for twenty long years. 

“How could you say this?” He asks, his hand moving from your face. “I built that wedding bed with my blood and sweat. Carved it into the olive tree where we first met. A symbol of our love everlasting! Do you realize what you have asked me? The only way to move it is to cut it from its roots!” He shouts, almost standing due to the anger bubbling in him. 

“Only my husband knew that!” You sob, holding his hands again. “You’re real! My Gods, you’re real!” He calls your name as you shudder. You shake your head, pulling him close as your hands search his body, holding him impossibly close. 

“I will fall in love with you over and over again. I don’t care how, where, or when. No matter how long it’s been. You’re mine. Don’t tell me you’re not the same person, you’re always my husband and I’ve been waiting for you!” He blinks, brushing your tears from your face before he kisses you. 

You crumble under his touch, your hands shaking as you cradle his face. He holds you tightly, pressing your armored chest flush against himself. You pull away first, tucking his now long blonde hair behind his ears to see his face properly. 

—

You don’t get a chance to admire the new Simon, not between the kissing and his insisting that you share the bed with Johnny for the night. You agree, of course, the two of you squishing Simon while he happily holds the two of you in his arms as the night draws on. 

Simon wakes up first, he’s gotten so used to being forced to share a bed with Calypso that he’d made his body wake up early to escape her. He looks at you and Johnny for a while, softly crying as he knows he’s home. Eventually, he gets up, hating the way the two of you whimper at the lost feeling between the two of you. 

He doesn’t venture far, just far enough to grab a bowl of water and a blade. Settling in front of a mirror, he shaves his face for the first time since he set out to Troy and then cuts his hair. He’s never seen his grey hairs before. Despite knowing that he was aging while he was out there he hadn’t realized he was aging. He wasn’t twenty anymore, he certainly didn’t look it either. 

He has scars on his face, he has grey hairs, he has the starts of wrinkles, eye bags— he could list them for hours. 

He looks back at you as you sleep. At your grey hairs, at your wrinkles and he smiles. You’re just as beautiful as the day he met you. 

Stepping towards the window he sees the castle workers dragging the bodies out of the castle and into a carriage. Tossing them unceremoniously and he makes his way down. 

“Load them and wait. Do not touch them any further,” He tells one of the maids without looking at her, his gaze locked on the men who had dared to try and defile his family. “Send word to the people of Ithaca. Meet at the pier by noon.” She nods, waiting to be dismissed by the king but he turns on his heel and returns to your room. 

You’re awake, rubbing your eyes as your sleepwear slips from your shoulder. 

“Did I wake you?” He asks, crawling into the bed and kissing the exposed skin. You roll your head at the feeling, holding the back of his head to keep him in place. 

“No,” You murmur, head against his. “I missed you.” 

“I missed you, too,” He pulls you onto his lap and you let him, too tired to fight back as he lays down again. “Trust me, ‘m not leaving ever again.”

“I like the sound of that,” You yawn, rubbing Johnny’s hair as he reaches out for the two of you. “We need to get up, though. Clean the halls,” 

“Already taken care of, love.” You hum, head resting on his bare chest, fingers tracing against his skin.

“You cut your hair,” You point out. 

“Mhmm, like it?” 

“Ask me later; ‘m too tired.” He chuckles and pets your cheek with his knuckles. 

“Rest my love, I’m not going anywhere.” 

The next time you wake up, he’s engrossed in a conversation with Johnny. He’s still holding you, but now it’s sitting up on the bed while Johnny all but bounces around the room. He talks about his own adventures with Athena, how he’d almost beat up Graves this one time, how you always kept a place for him. He talks about the stories he grew up hearing about the great King Simon of Ithaca. 

Simon listens, committing his son's voice to memory while he inhales the smell of your hair. 

A knock at the door stops their conversation and Simon calls for whoever it is to come in as he pulls the blanket over your body. 

“It is nearly noon, King Simon.” 

“Thank you,” He nods, watching the door close before he looks down at you. “How long have you been awake?” He chides upon seeing your very much awake eyes on him. 

“Long enough,” You respond but make no action to move. “What’s at noon?”

“You’ll see.” He lifts you with ease, picking himself up in the process and you laugh, holding onto his shoulders while Johnny gags and rushes out of the room. 

In the tub, Simon sits first, letting you slowly sit with him before he kisses you. His lips and teeth pull and suck at the skin of your neck while you coo, squeezing his shoulders. The cold water wakes you up more than the kisses do, but when his hand dives between your legs you swear you’re more than awake. 

“Mmm-mm,” You shake your head as you reluctantly push his hands away, he pouts but doesn’t fight it. “I want it to be in bed. To reclaim it,” His pupils dilate at the idea, you feel his pulse against his wrist and you grin, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“I can do that,” He nods, instead moving his hands to start washing the two of you. 

The two of you dress together in your finest tunics, adorning yourselves in the royal jewelry and colors before getting Johnny from his room. Again, Simon finds himself between the two of you as you head down to your horses. Even more so when you’re all squished into a chariot. 

The wagon of dead bodies follows behind you, the smell of death present as the townspeople watch. People gasp at the sight of Simon, and whispers of the long-since departed king's return echo throughout Ithaca. 

Simon steps onto the platform, bringing you up with him and you stand next to him while Johnny stands in front of the two of you. 

He starts a speech, making a point about the dead men. He talks of the disrespect to his house– to his family. He dares someone else to try to ruin his family, to hurt his son, his husband. He declares himself back, the two kings of Ithaca ruling again. Merciful, he calls the act of bloodshed the two of you had committed the night before. He calls the men’s mothers, their fathers, their wives, their children. He tells them they can weave their funeral shroud for them. Or else he’ll burn them to keep your room warm. 

He watches as they collect their sons, their husbands, and their fathers. He holds you close, fingers a bruising grip against your waist. 

The two of you head back; Johnny stays behind to venture around the kingdom. You think it’s so the two of you can be alone for a little while. 

—

“I’ve missed you, husband,” Simon says, his head between your legs. He’s thrown them over his shoulders, his hands kneading the flesh of your stomach. He’s dreamt of this sight for two decades and yearned to dive his head between your legs again. Savoring the taste, feeling the way you’d clench around him. 

“I’ve missed you, husband,” You parrot, reaching down to hold his chin. He leans into the warm touch, eyes closing as he savors it. You trail your hand up, holding his hair as he dives down. You gasp when he presses his tongue flat against you, slowly dragging up and down while watching you. 

“I’m yours,” He murmurs, pressing sloppy kisses against your warmth while you twitch under his hold. “Only yours.” You pant, holding the cotton sheets for a reprise as his tongue makes figure eights around you, how he sucks and nips at your sensitive bud. He moves, sliding a finger into you; his eyes stuck on your face as your back arches. It’s an adjustment, just as it had been the first time you’d done this. 

Your body had almost forgotten the feeling of his fingers inside of you, how skillful they’d been during your marriage. How he knew your body inside and out, what points to press on, and how fast to go. He maintains a rhythm that makes you cry, your arm across your eyes as you try to compose yourself. Not let yourself come undone so fast. 

“Simon,” You breathe, trying to get to your elbows but he starts moving his finger. He's pushing and pulling, curling inside of you and it makes you fall back on the bed. He shudders, that tone in your voice, that feeling on his finger, the taste on his tongue. It’s all he’s ever wanted; it’s what kept him going all these years. “I need you,” You cry, eyes closed as your stomach tightens. He adds another finger, the added pressure makes your jaw drop. 

“You have me,” He swears. “Look at me, please,” You try, honestly you do, but the tightness reaches a high and your eyes screw shut. Your fingers tighten around his hair, your voice echoes in the room and Simon feels you clench around him. He almost laughs, not because it hadn’t taken much to push you to the edge but because he’d already come. It hadn’t taken anything, all it took was you saying his name and he spilled into the bedsheets. 

“You okay, moon?” He asks while crawling on top of you, his lips leaving scattered kisses across your body. You nod, face blissed out and eyes watery. “Can you take another?” 

“I can take a million more,” You breathe and he laughs, head dropping between your neck. You laugh along, legs raising as he bites your skin. He moves so he’s holding himself up with one hand, his other grabs his dick as it hardens again. 

“You sure?” He asks and you nod, kissing his shoulder. 

“I can take it,” You moan, feeling the tip move across your folds. It slips and prods before he eventually pushes inside in one fluid motion. Your back arches, pushing your chest against his as he fills you. 

“Full, ‘m so full,” You pant against him and he nods, moving your hair from your face. 

“Full ‘n’ tight f’ me, yeah?” He teases, slowly rolling his hips against yours. He relishes in watching your expressions, how your mouth drops open and you’re unable to control the sounds you make. “Waited so long f’ me, didn’t you?” As he’s speaking, he raises up from you, his right hand holding your stomach down while the left starts rubbing soft circles on your clit. “So patient, my love. Thank you.” 

His eyes dip down, looking at the bulge in your stomach as he slowly enters and exits you. He moans at the sight, eyes closing for a brief moment as he begins to pick up pace. You struggle to look at him, one hand holding the wooden headboard behind you while the other loosely holds the wrist that’s circling you. 

“Missed you s’much,” He moans. “Missed all of you.” He slurs, leaning down to kiss you. He bites your bottom lip before his lips capture yours, his hips pressing against your own with each thrust. “Gods, you’re so tight.” He grunts as he pulls away, moving your left leg to be over his shoulder while the right leg sits at his hip. He speeds up, twitching as your moans only grow louder. Your nails drag against his chest and circle to his back. 

He feels his scars under your nails, the sensitive skin prickling hot as you open his flesh. He hisses, the pain far easier to manage than anything he’s faced while away but so different. So loving. 

“Inside me,” You moan, finally able to look at him as you bite your bottom lip. It’s throbbing from the pain of him biting it but you don’t care. “Inside me, Si, please.”

“Who am I to deny you, my king?” He grins and then drops his head down to your neck, feeling your walls tighten around him. You hear him whimper and moan against you and it only eggs you on. He’d chased that feeling for years, spilling inside of you as your high starts approaching. He continues for you, continuing his bruising pace until your body stops moving, your mouth falls open and your breathing goes ragged. Tenderly, as he always used to do, Simon holds you close to him. Your head rests against his chest so you can listen and feel his heart beating against your ear. 

His hand stops circling your clit as he slowly pulls out from inside you. The sounds that come from him and you spur him on more but he contains himself. Instead, he watches as his cum leaks from you. On instinct, he pushes it back inside, loving the way your legs twitch when he does. 

“Do you need a break?” He asks, eyeing the sweat on your brow. You inhale, thinking about it before shaking your head. 

“I can take more,” You swear and he raises his eyebrow. “Please, Simon.” 

“Your wish is my command.”