benjinoff13

[writeshite]

Thor showing you his bulge in his briefs please?🙈🙈

You stared down at Thor's bulge, disbelief and confusion on your face; you reached out, pulled the hem of the briefs out to peek in, and your eyes widened. You glanced back at a very proud, very smug Thor, "I—"

"Don't worry, dear heart, I'm no monster," he pecks your temple, promising to be gentle.

[cloningfailure]

“Is thi…this Rory?” 

█ ▌ @drcwningvoices​   █ ▌ Rory

[writeshite]

Okay but being sandwiched between Batman and Superman in that hot spring on that cover would cure my depression 🥵😭🥵

“Do you have to wear the mask in the spring?” You teased, head leaned back and laid on Bruce’s shoulder. The man in question had left a handful of hickeys along your skin.

“It’s called immersion,” Clark laughed, as he came back up for air. You could feel the imprint of his teeth still healing from where he’s spent the past hour and a half between your legs.

“Don’t encourage him, Clark, next thing you know I’ll be fucked on the side of some Gotham tower.”

“You like it,” Bruce snorted, biting your ear in retaliation to the teasing, you swat his arm, huffing softly.

“Don’t fight you two,” Clark quipped, going back underwater, he slings your legs over his shoulders, and gets back to sucking your dick.

[writeshite]

Justice League Zeus: "Ah, long time no see! How long has it been, a few thousand years--?"

Reader: *smacks him* "I was a STATUE."

Zeus: "--well, yes, but--" *Reader smacks him again* "Ooh, I've missed you--" *grabs Reader's hips and yanks him close*

Reader: "Seriously?"

Zeus: "What? You're sexy when you're angry. A lot of people are, actually--"

Reader: "...yeah, suddenly you and Hera are making a lot more sense--"

“Ah, long time no see,” Zeus grinned when he saw you, how long has it been? A few thousand years?”

“Did you miss me?” You asked, having stepped out from Zeus’ arms, “Did you look for me? Or did you find some other man to fuck?”

“No!” Zeus hisses, softening, “No, never.” He gathers you in his arms again, pressing his head against yours. “I wish I could have devoted my eternity to finding you, I do, I really do.”

You hide your face in his chest, “Seriously? Why didn’t you?” You whisper with a harsh longing, and a hurt tone. Zeus doesn’t reply, squeezing you gently in his arms instead. You grimace at his silence, drawing back and slapping him when he doesn’t answer again. “I WAS A STATUE!”

“Well, yes but—“ Zeus stammers, and you backhand him again, shaking, striking a God tended to be a terrible choice. “Oh, you’re sexy when you’re angry. A lot of people are, actually—“

You pause, still shaking, sighing in disbelief, “Suddenly, you and Hera make a lot more sense together,” you sneered and for the first time in your interaction, Zeus’ expression darkens.

[writeshite]

Asking Bucky if you can put your hands down his pants?

Bucky lifts his newspaper and looks down at you, you’re both laid down on the couch, you atop him swinging your legs idly with a grin. “Can I help you, doll?”

You tug at the waistband of his pants, “Can I put my hands down your pants, Buck?”

Bucky snorts, “Sure thing.” He goes back to his reading, you unbutton his pants, and pull down his underwear as much as you can before playing around with his dick.

[writeshite]

You and Arthur staying completely naked in the house while doin cute domestic shit

“Arthur, I’m holding a hot spatula,” you warned him with a chuckle, Arthur had been stealing pancakes when he could, willing to brave the slightly scalded fingers for a taste of pancakes.

“And we’re ass naked,” he retorts, eating another pancake, there weren’t that many left. He hugs you and kisses away the faux annoyance from your expression, replacing it with a cheery laughter.

You switched off the stove and placed what little pancakes were left on the other side of the counter while Arthur moved from you to make two cups of tea. You have to shoo him away every few minutes when he leans in for a kiss and nearly escalates to kitchen sex. "Focus," you tease him.

"I'm multitasking," he counters, jumping when you pinch his bare ass in passing.

[writeshite]

"Relax." John turns to glare at you, but you hold his head firmly, keeping his gaze at the door; your other hand unbuckles his belt; he grips the armrest, shallow breaths leaving him as he did his best to follow the order. "There we go," your voice close to his ear; he feels the anger almost dissipate.

You take his cock out, and he doesn't buck against your hand as fervently as he'd once done, obediently waiting for you to make the first move. "You're learning quick, aren't you?" You move your hand to his mouth, silencing the pleading whimpers as you jerk him off. The armrest bends, and he shudders; he's not the Homelander when he's in your hands. He's your good boy - obedient, pliant - always chasing the high your praise brings him.

"What do you think people would say if they saw you like this?" You laugh lowly; John's head cranes back, "Imagine that." Not many people are up and about in the building this time of night, and it's not the first time you'd done this - last week, he'd spoken out of turn, you'd bent him over your lap, and spanked him till his ass was red. He mewls when he cums, back arching slightly before falling back against you, turning in your hold when you direct him to do so, and eagerly licks away the cum on your hands.

[writeshite]

Aaron Hotchner's husband coming to his work to give him his lunch he forgot and the team is shocked that he has a husband and one who looks like he was sculpted by the gods

Maybe also Aaron telling the team that's his and no one is allowed to flirt with him, reader then flirting with Aaron in front of the team just to tease him

Aaron 'I don't need rest I'm perfectly fine' Hotchner having a husband that's sculpted by the gods, and everyone in the team is trying to piece together a timeline because when? how? Said husband walks in with Hotch's lunch, and when Hotch speaks to him, it's like a cliche in a movie - his eyes soften, and he smiles; yes, Hotch smiles, but like this, smile is soft and small. Also, flustered Hotch? Love it, personally, I like the idea that his ears go red first and he has to cover them for a while after you've left.

[writeshite]

Okay wait but Butcher fucking you slow and sweet though, murmuring soft praises and compliments while keeping his eyes on yours. Tells you how good you feel and look while you take him and covers your face in kisses. Sigh.

I need him to deep fuck me the same way you deep clean a room

[writeshite]

Arthur Curry: "You seriously don't remember why you got turned into a statue?"

Reader: "No, I don't! But come on, what could I have possibly done that would justify--"

Reader: *flashbacks to riding Zeus like a bull, a murderous looking Hera looming overhead*

Reader: "....okay, maybe a little my fault--"

"A little?" Arthur raised his brow, curious to understand the circumstances.

"Ok, maybe a lot," you replied, remembering how greatly you enjoyed being flaunted around Olympus by Zeus; with no womb to plant his progeny, he could enjoy you without the threat of Hera killing you, or so he hoped. As did you.

[writeshite]

DC!Zeus: "We defeated Darkseid! Now there is one thing we must do--"

Reader: "Go back to Olympus and have sky-shattering glad to be alive sex?"

Zeus: "Well, actually I--" *watches Reader stride off and remembers he's Zeus, passes the Motherboxes to Artemis* "You can handle this, I trust you, sweetie." *jogs after Reader*

Artemis: *rolls eyes*

You're barely a few steps ahead when Zeus sweeps you off your feet and runs the rest of the way, "You'd think they're dying with how horney they are," Artemis grimaces.

Apollo snorts, "Just be glad they can't pop out, kids; at the pace, they fuck, they're like rabbits on steroids."

[writeshite]

It was common secrecy that you and Daemon often spent nights tangled in each other's arms, a matter allowed only for the reason that it kept Daemon from enacting his roguish tendencies.

"No, no, no, I've already missed the morning—Daemon!" you shriek when his cold hands run along your skin. It's often a game between the two of you - Daemon, in search of warmth, would pounce and lay his freezing hands on your warm skin. "You would leave a prince of the realm on his deathbed?" he pouted, reaching out for you again.

You smacked his hands away, "When his hands are as cold as the North's ass? Yes, besides, I doubt Otto's going to be happy with how late I am."

"Your cousin…” he begins.

"Is an ass? I know Daemon; I grew up with him," you return to him briefly, placing a brief kiss on his lips; you dart away before he can trap you underneath him again.

[writeshite]

Robb sitting on your face getting eaten out when someone walks in wanting to get you guys to go to the conference room

Robb shuddered, biting his lip as he felt your tongue plunge deeper, he'd been worried you might break your neck, but you'd brushed him off and held him down by his thighs as you feasted on his arse. He rides when he remembers to, his mind preoccupied with getting lost in the sensation, so lost in the fact that Robb hardly notices the knock on the door and is surprised when a counselor walks in to demand your presence.

The counselor shrieks in surprise and covers his eyes, running out of the room in a frenzy, Robb would love to go help the counselor and perhaps console him, but he leaves that for whoever finds the man. It's not like he could move while you were busy enjoying yourself.

[writeshite]

Pfffffft okay hear me out Hera catches Reader and Zeus doing the naked horizonal tango on a cloud or something and curses them to turn to stone or puts them to sleep or whatever--

Centuries later Arthur Curry finds and breaks the seal in an old temple deep underwater and is rewarded with a very confused, very naked Reader coming to life and tumbling into his lap--

(Reader takes a bit to adjust to the whole "losing literal centuries and waking up in a different time thing, but charming the pants (literally) off the mind-meltingly hot seeming reincarnation of one of their old lovers Poseidon softens the blow, you know??)

If reader finds the reincarnations of Hades and Zeus then he can have them all together

[writeshite]

Ned Stark and Hightower!Reader: *on diplomatic visit to Dorne or something*

Oberyn: *eyeing them thoughtfully* "...you two are sleeping together, aren't you?"

Hightower!Reader: "Only when we're done having sex."

Ned: *chokes on water*

“Oh I like this you,” Oberyn laughed, “you’re funny,” he grunts, holding your hips in place so he can fuck you in tandem with Ned. “You’re cute, and gods, you make diplomatic visits more fun.”

[writeshite]

....okay hear me out, Geralt helping Reader escape being a virgin sacrifice by ah....helping him get rid of the virgin part 👀

Previous

Geralt doesn’t like the sorcerer who greets the two of you. Yvad Vassird, he’d introduced himself. Yvad is a relatively young sorcerer, conniving, condescending, and an ass to boot - his dark hair is neatly combed back and cropped to the sides, and his robes are a rich blue with silver detailing. The so-called temple is no better - more so a fortress, with sigils carved into every brick of the building, with a rotating guard of sorcerers watching over anything and anyone that walks in and out. He doesn’t like how they stare at you with something sinister, shrugging off the looks of disgust they throw at him.

“...your bravery is admirable, dear boy, to surrender yourself to the forces of Order for the betterment of the Continent, truly a feat.” Geralt catches the tail end of Yvad’s speech and rolls his eyes. Thankfully, the man leaves once you’re escorted to your temporary resting chambers; the room has a bed and enough magic to keep it comfortable enough. Geralt paces and checks every corner for any sort of traps, and you have to call him away from the windows when he growls at something and draws the curtains closed.

“Darling, you can glare violently at the people outside,” you quip, patting the place on the bed beside you. He reluctantly comes to sit, leaning his head against yours, thumbs rubbing circles on your hands. He helps you change into the required clothing, kissing your skin whenever he can - it’s not even clothing really, but instead a loose tunic that lays over your body. When Yvad returns, he’s accompanied by masked sorcerers, and no amount of convincing can deter Geralt from seeing you to your final moments. 

You’re led to the central altar high in the building - a massive mirror hangs above the room, and multiple other mirrors are positioned around the ceiling - when Geralt crosses the threshold, he feels his bones twist, the magic in the air is conflicting, and he wonders how you, Yvad and the other sorcerers stand without trouble. The room appears clean, but Geralt can smell the old blood as strong as it would have been the day it was spilled. Yvad has Geralt remain on the outskirts of the altar as he leads you by the hand to the altar itself, stood under the large mirror. The masked sorcerers begin to chant, raising their hands; Chaos bleeds from their fingertips, striking the smaller mirrors, darting around before coming together to the large mirror and being reflected down to you. 

The floor closest to you lights up with sigils; you glance at Geralt before runes dot your skin, and you fall to your knees. Yvad claps his hands, and the smaller mirrors tilt, focusing more Chaos onto you; your own begins to bleed from you, growing more violent as it’s pulled and pushed. Geralt is acutely aware of your screaming but is stopped by Yvad’s pinning gaze, “Interfere, and you might kill him, witcher.”

“You’re already doing that,” he hisses, proven right when you cough up blood. 

“It’s necessary,” Yvad responds. The chanting becomes quieter as Yvad takes over, hands drawing in the air; the Chaos turns into what Geralt must assume is Order. The sigils glow brighter, and your body contorts, floating in the air before a violent burst of energy is released. “FUCK! Keep it controlled!” Yvad yells.

One masked sorcerer is knocked through the window by the next wave; his screams go uncared for by Yvad. The man rolls his eyes when the others flinch, “Stay focused!” When the next wave hits more of them, you crumple to the ground, struggling to lift your head as your screams become sobs. 

Burnt flesh wafts through the air, and Geralt’s resolve breaks - the spell is already unstable with one masked sorcerer gone, so Geralt gets rid of another - the sigils flicker, and the ground shakes. Yvad turns to him, fury in his face; Geralt dodges an attack and rushes to you - surmising the focus of the spell must be well protected; he’s proven right yet again when Yvad’s magic bounces back. He alternates between shaking you lightly and patting your cheek, “Come on. Come on. Come on.”

Your skin is warm, and when your eyes flutter open, Geralt feels as though he’s staring into a flame. Geralt…?” It takes you a moment before your mind catches on, and you spring to grab his shoulders, “....you stupid, stupid man!”

“You can insult me later; now, we need to get out of here.”

Yvad laughs, “You’re going nowhere, witcher.” Yvad’s voice is close to his ear; Geralt turns and is thrown far from you and through a window, hanging off the edge. Two things happen. One - Yvad takes two steps toward him, ready to have him fall to his death - two - the sorcerer flies past him as a loud ‘NO’ echoes, and the other windows shatter. Geralt crawls back in to find whoever’s left a pile of blood and bones.

You stand at the center, hand held out, and Geralt catches you before you can topple over again, “We need to get you out of here before the others find their way up here.” You nod, steeling yourself; a portal crackles to life, leading you to Roach as the other sorcerers' steps grow closer, you open another, and Geralt has Roach gallop through with you first before following. The portal led to a safehouse you’d cobbled from a dead peer - having invested what little free time you had to ensure it remained far from the Brotherhood - Geralt catches you before you slump off Roach, and you wake hours later to him sat by your bedside.

“Geralt? I’m…I’m alive?”

“Yeah, I promised, didn’t I? We’re far from everyone else,” he replies, hand coming to caress your face, “and, considering the whole sacrifice thing fell through—”

You drag him forward before he can finish, lips slotting against his to ensure this is real and that you hadn’t died and gone to some dream amid your death. Geralt holds you, pulling you closer; you laugh with relief when you part, leaning your head against his. “I’m alive,” you sigh. “Please, never ever, do what you did back there again.”

“Hmm, no promises.” He kisses you again, leaning further into your space and laying you back on the bed. Sliding between your legs as he pushes the tunic up, his fingers stretch your ass - the Brotherhood had believed, gods know why, that virgins made for better sacrifices - you’d resolved to kiss Geralt when you could, but now? Now, you strived to be fucked.

Geralt must deem you prepared as his cock replaces his fingers - it’s an adjustment, to say the least - you wince, and he halts his movements, “Is it too much?”

“Give me…just a minute,” you groan, clenching around him, “ok…you….move again,” you mumble. He wants to move slowly for your sake, but you protest, encouraging him to move faster; you sob enthusiastically when Geralt thrusts faster, the bed creaks, and you're certain it comes close to snapping. His teeth drag across your skin, and your own senses feel elevated, ears buzzing as Geralt slams into you with more and more force. When he cums, your eyes screw shut as something, or rather a lot of somethings, crash.

Geralt chuckles, "We can replace that later." You don't ask what it is, instead chuckling alongside him.