#sloppy and with devotion or nothing

[darabeatha]

@destructivour replied ; with or without tongue though / from : x

Worse. With something far more sinister... (love)

[beautysamour]

miguel accidentally overstimulating himself not realizing that his breeding kink kicked in 🤲🧎‍♀️

overstimulation with miguel o’hara ❤︎

— a/n: oh my

warnings ﾟ𐦍༘⋆: some vulgar language, mentions of having kids during sex

“Mi—Miguel,” you gasp out, wrapping your arms around his neck as he fucks you into the mattress, “‘s—‘s too much? Ah—are you oh—okay?”

You shudder in unison as he pumps another load of his cum into your drenched pussy.

“I’m fi—fine,” he stutters as his dick twitches. It hurts—he’s sensitive—but it’s not enough. He hasn’t given you enough.

A broken mewl escapes you as your head hits the headboard, Miguel tightens his grip around your waist to keep you from slipping off his cock as his hips stutter through his thrusts.

His visions blurs as you clench around his dick—he was surprised he was still able to move.

He chokes when your pussy flutters—the way you clamp down on his dick makes his body go slack and his eyes roll back.

You’re both covered in sweat, and cum, and saliva. You feel hot, the silk bedsheets Miguel bought does nothing to cool you down, and your head is spinning. Your heart pounds in your chest as your body tenses—you were about to cum again, and your pussy wanted to cry.

“Miguel,” you whimper, “‘m close, Miguel, ‘m close,” you whine. His dick deliciously rubs against your walls as he sticks his thumb into your mouth—your head hits the headboard.

“I know mami—me too.” Your head hits the headboard again, “Gotta fill you up again, don’t you want that? Gonna make you feel good, I promise mami, I promise.”

“Mig—“ he pushes his thumb down on your tongue.

“‘m gonna make you feel so good, mami,” he starts to babble, “Gonna feel so good.”

Somehow every movement he made was even more intense, you could feel every vein, every twitch, every—everything. He became more precise, every thrust ended with him hitting your g—spot, you were never sure if that was going to be the moment you came.

“Miguel—,” you babble, sucking his thumb. “‘m gonna cum, right there Miguel, I’m gonna—“

His thrusts became erratic, the feeling of your warm pussy engrains itself in his memory.

He’d definitely be going back to this memory.

“Wait for me mami, I’m almost there too,” he grabs one of your hands, bringing it close to his mouth, and he presses his lips against your wrist. “Gonna make you a mother, yeah?”

You bite his thumb.

He presses a hand against your stomach as the bed creaks, “Make me a father?”

His hips stutter as you moan around his thumb.

You avoid eye contact as he leans over you, the pure devotion in his eyes makes you feel tingles in your stomach—and make you feel even more of that in your pussy.

“Look at me when you come mami, pl—please. Need you too.”

You didn’t expect it to happen that quickly when you looked at him.

Miguel looks down at you with lust blown eyes, his hair drops down from his face, and his mouth hangs open—the hand holding your wrist shaking. He slowly thrusts into you as he came inside you—your own cum mixed with his leaking around his dick.

His chest goes up and down as he heavily breathes—fuck was he beautiful as always.

He dips his head pressing a quick sloppy kiss onto your lips, “You’re leaking.”

You laugh, “It’s your fault.”

You expect him to laugh, to take it as a joke and then pick you up to go take a relaxing bath and cuddle for the rest of night—but he doesn’t.

“Oh,” he purrs, “Well, I should fix my mistake, shouldn’t I?”

He drops your wrist and focuses on your left boob, he pinches your nipple—you moan softly.

You wince in unison when he starts to move his hips again, his free hand trailing down to your waist from your stomach, “Ha—have to make sure none of my cum goes to waste, right mami? Can’t risk you not getting pregnant.”

Tears weld in his eyes, your pussy hurts as you pulse around him. He lets out a weak breath, “You want me to cum in you again, right?”

Your head hits the headboard once more as he thrusts get stronger.

It hurts, you’re too sensitive, and you’re positive he is too—yet he’s right. You do want that, you want him.

With a broken, hoarse voice, you say “Yes.”

[2kiran]

18+ FTM!LOGAN H. X M!READER | AFAB TERMS USED

There’s no doubt that LOGAN HOWLETT is a certified brat. If you think work is the only thing that gives you stress on a daily, you’re nothing but wrong. He likes to act out; suggestively bending over in front of you, standing too near, roaming his hands needily—all of it. He’s similar to a feisty cat, one that demands high maintenance.

He should’ve predicted it. Should’ve known your restraint would crumble the second he retorted a bit too bitchy, too offensive.

You have LOGAN sitting on your lap, both of you facing the mirror, devoting to memory at how his pretty hole continued to drool arousal as it’s stretched open on your cock. His thighs are quivering, one hand of his clinging onto your nape, and yet he won’t take the fucking hint. “This all ye’got for me?” He grinds his hips down to envelop you in deeper with a tongue-twisted gasp.

His sloppy walls are gripping you tightly, wetly squeezing around your equally leaky length. His clit aches, yearning for the attention he’s dumbly convinced he’s entitled to receive. He reaches for it, meeting your gaze through the mirror. Oh fuck, that heated look he catches - that you gave him, makes his entrance weep of pre.

You slap LOGAN’S hand away, gifting your ears with his objecting whine. “R-really, yer gonna deny me? You ain’t even doing shit.” He’s about to expand on his complaint, tell you how cruel of a man you are, until he’s met with two of your fingers pulling the hood of his nub back. Your other hand pries his thigh wider, the pad of your middle digit directly applying pressure on his clit. He cries out, his attention beginning to fade away from the lewd scene painted on glass as his thighs attempt to lock around your hand.

You don’t give him the time to process anything. Your wrist rocks, roughly sliding your finger up and down. You feel him clench around your length, and you have to remind yourself that you have to resist the urge to pound the attitude out of his system.

“Mfnnnngh! It’s too much!” LOGAN wails, getting wetter and wetter. Slick graces his inner legs, a climax building low within his belly. He leans forward, a fruitless intention on running, really. “Gonna make you cum on my cock first,” you dismiss, pressing down on the glans before rubbing circles. You twitch inside, and he thinks his heightened senses are both a blessing and a curse.

“and then I’ll fuck you.” Continuing on, your pace increased. Wetness pooled on your finger, the sight making you impossibly harder. The intoxicating pull of submission encompasses LOGAN HOWLETT as he listens to you talk. It has him regretting his behavior towards you, a whimper passing through his lips. His mouth falls agape with a silent scream, suddenly creaming on your fat cock because it’s the only ‘sorry’ he’s willing to give you.

[tacticalprincess]

toxic loser könig is fueled by the need to feel appreciated for once, especially by a pretty girl like you. and not just from the sweet compliments that bake in the oven of your mouth — he wants everyone to see how much you care about him. he can barely contain the sick urge to prove his claim over you to men in public who eye you up like he’s not there, to respond in appalling ways to older women whose brows crease in concern and bewilderment at how someone like you ended up with him. he pulls you snugly to his beefy side with a firm grip on your waist or middle, and angles your face toward his for a sloppy, lewd kiss in the middle of your sentence for seemingly no reason.

his cock struggles against the confines of his pants when you melt into his bruising hold, kitten nails carving into his bulging bicep in shock. you go along with his perverse actions without a second thought, under the knowledge that you’ll be yelled at to no end when you get home if you push him away for embarrassing him. his mind is constantly riddled with fantasies of fucking you in public, bending you over and stuffing you full until you’re nothing but a cockdrunk mess for all judgmental eyes to see, as the ultimate display of your devotion to him. for now, he settles for pulling you against his weighted boner mid-make out by squeezing the plump fat of your ass under your skirt, trying to fight the smugness dancing around the corners of his mouth at the whispers of disapproval from passerbys. but once his desire gets too strong, he’ll guilt trip you into complying to his fantasies, because if you truly loved him, you wouldn’t be ashamed to let everyone see, would you?

[star2fishmeg]

Luke and your neck. That’s it. That’s the thought.

Do with this what you will

You can't help but giggle with a smug grin, tilting your head to the side as Luke buries his face into your hickey-littered neck. He's got you locked onto his lap, arms wrapped around your waist tight, and he couldn't care less about how a rumbling groan emits from his throat. All he cares about is his mouth attached to your neck, swiping his tongue over the skin and sinking his teeth into you, sucking harsh, dark purple blotches with his breathing heavy. Your hand in his curls, tugging firmly with no reason other than to wind him up more and feel him pull you onto his crotch closer.

"Hmm, don't you think that's enough, Lu? I think you've made your point." You almost giggle, but he catches a glimpse of your smirk in the mirror opposite his bed. He pulls back slowly, a line of spit stuck between his bottom lip and your skin.

He looks up with the spit snapping, the small amount of baby facial hair tickling against your neck and cheek when he meets your gaze in the reflection. That's when he gets to see his work properly, your tank top hiding nothing, just the way he wants. From your collarbones up to your neck, purple and pink blossoms from his devoted onslaught of proof that you're not the single woman that mutual friend thought you were when he put his lips near your throat, hours before Luke dragged you home.

Luke trails butterfly kisses along your cheek to your ear, his breath warm as his teeth nibble the lobe, eyes closing slowly before his voice deepens and reverberates through your body, "I can't pretend like it doesn't bother me when people don't know how fucking in love I am with you."

He presses a warm kiss to the back of your neck, a patch that's still untainted, his arms unwinding, only to have his hands creep under your tank top, hiking it over your breasts to let that pretty, lacy bra present itself to him. You feel the pads of his fingertips trace down your waist with a feathery, tingly touch, as if you were made of glass, afraid to shatter you in his palms and he repeatedly drags them along your skin: up, down, up, down to run along your inner thighs before brushing over your pussy and back to your waist.

"Baby, you know I'm all yours, no one else I'd rather call my pretty boy," a soft whimper slips from you, desperate for something from his long fingers, clit throbbing in anticipation. "Need you to show me how in love you are, need to feel it, feel you inside me."

Meanwhile, his lips move against your neck, sloppy, open-mouthed kisses to the back of your nape and over the fresh hickeys on the sides, fervid electricity flowing through your nerves and striking you restless on his lap, squirming in his hold, his cock twitching in his jeans painfully. His mouth returns to the back of your neck, nipping at the flesh with a gruff moan and sucking with saliva trickling from the corner of his lips, fingers spreading over your waist to have his hands wrap around the sides, gliding up the curve and cupping your breasts, kneading them softly before finding their way to the clasp.

[kitten4sannie]

blinding faith (teaser)

fall in line now, bow your head

pairing: cult leader! yunho x disciple! reader (fem) x elder! mingi feat. woosan

genres: twisted religious romance (if you can even call it romance), smut, late 1970s setting

summary: the founder can’t accept it when you begin to show signs of deception and doubt for his righteous cause. he has no other choice but to rely on his most trusted brethren to help him show you the light.

bend your knee, Child of God

warnings: aged up dom! yunho, aged up dom! mingi, subby innocent! reader, huge corruption kink, perversion, major sacrilegious vibes and behavior, mostly pet names/some name calling, praise/false praise, major voyeurism/exhibitionism (there’s a whole audience BAHAH), use of restraints/blindfold, masturbation, use of a rosary (i’ll let you figure that one out….), sloppy seconds, double penetration, loss of anal virginity, cum eating, cum swapping, size kink, major breeding kink, felching, squirting, dumbificafion

a/n: this is a lil teaser for a very special series that i’m writing for a very special someone ;3 i’ll be posting it at the end of next week on the 30th <33 without further ado, i’d like to introduce you all to our beloved leader yuyu 🫶🏼 try not to let him corrupt you~~ and if you’d like to join the taglist (if you’re not already on my general taglist) just click on the tiny heart at the end of the teaser ＼(^o^)／ have a lovely day/night!!

You were taught by Yunho, your beloved leader, your savior, your everything, that God allowed those he loved the most, those that remained tied to their earthly bonds, to endure deep suffering and endless tribulations — because within that pain, within that humiliation, laid pleasure. Unimaginable pleasure that sat just below the surface. Yunho took great satisfaction in reaching into the darkness, into the depths, and ripping it out with his silver trimmed talons, always willing to graciously bestow it upon his followers.

There was no greater joy than to witness the moment his dear flock began to walk in the truth. He savored the sweet sounds of ecstasy that tore out of their sweat-ridden throats, longed for the moment their rosy faces ceased their contortions, their lips, wet with saliva, their unfocused eyes, wet with tears, knowing that another one of his beloved disciples had seen the light. And they would always look up at him with delicious desperation, begging for another chance to catch a glimpse of heaven once more. And, only because of his unending benevolence and boundless love, he brought them back, expecting nothing in return, except for their undying loyalty.

Yet, none of them were ever as loyal as you. His angel from above. If only he had clipped your wings sooner.

“My love, my heart, my dearest angel, why do you look at me this way? With those tears in your eyes? With such devotion?” Yunho sighed out against your flushed cheek, his body flush against yours, the cold metal of his rosary splayed across your hot skin. You simply couldn’t speak, not with the way he was spilling inside you.

The corners of his lips quirked up into a sadistic smile, his warm, uneven puffs of breath hitting the bottom of your jaw, as he clutched your slick, trembling thighs, holding them farther apart to ensure that he could continue accessing the heaven you kept in between them, the hot, wet haven you only allowed your savior to access. “Is it because I’m filling you with my own devotion? Does knowing that my seed will soon grant new life inside of you bring you to tears, Y/N?”

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

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© kitten4sannie, 2024.

[charliemwrites]

Part 3 of obsessed Johnny

(Part 2 is here.)

CW for extremely dubious consent.. or this might actually be coerced consent? Is there a difference? Anyway, be safe!

There’s a few things you learn quickly. If you ask nicely, present things just right, Johnny will give you just about anything. Any foods, any drinks. He movies a huge flatscreen into your room and makes it so you can watch damn near anything with streaming.

“I just want to let everyone know I’m okay. You can read the message yourself before I send it! But the police will come looking if I don’t tell people I’m alright.”

So he cuddles up next to your shoulder and reads as you make up lies to family and friends and professors that you’re fine, but you’re very stressed and need space. That you’re taking some time to “work on yourself.” Johnny takes your phone away again when it’s done and apologizes again when you cry about it.

There are things you don’t ask for either, that he brings you. A squishy pillow in the shape of a bunny. A bunch of fidget toys. Soft thigh high socks for the cold room and cotton shirts that stretch down nearly to your knees. Not a lot of pants.

When you carefully ask why, he blushes and tells you that you look cuter without them. Still, you have a couple pairs of fleece joggers that mysteriously disappear sometimes.

Then there’s…. well there’s this.

“I’m making it up to you, angel,” he breathes against your bare thigh. “I’m sorry I’ve been so mean. But I promise it’s all for you, I’ll show you.”

You’re trembling, trying to think of a good way to tell him to stop that won’t upset him. Hard to do that when he’s prying his way so gently between your legs, tonguing at your cotton panties.

“It’s alright, I won’t take anything, Bonnie. Going to give you everything,” he whispers. “It’s not for me. All for you to feel good.”

He rips through the lace on the side with his teeth and tugs it away to bear you. He groans, eyes going moony.

“Gorgeous girl,” he moans, laying kisses all over. “Such a pretty kitty. Knew you would be.”

“W-wait, wait, soap,” you finally force out. But he’s far, far too gone now. His eyes don’t even flicker away from your pussy.

“Don’t get shy on me now, hen.” He loops one of your legs over his shoulder, stroking the outside of your thigh. “Nothing to be shy about.”

Your stomach clenches as his mouth drops open, hot air across your sensitive core. His mouth is already shiny. He finally, finally pries his eyes from your cunt, looking up at you through thick lashes.

“Let me, baby,” he begs. “Say I can, say I’m allowed to make you feel good. You deserve it, let me make this up to you.”

At this point, you don’t think he’d listen if you didn’t give permission so you just nod.

“S-slow, soap. Please?”

“Anything for you,” he promises. “Anything… anything…”

He kisses your pussy like a lover leaving his beloved. Aching, slow, devoted. His tongue grinding against your clit, licking at your entrance. He moans at the taste of you, eyes rolling back in his head.

You try to lay still, to be quiet, to just... let it happen to you. But Christ, he feels so good. Luxuriant. There’s no resisting the way he sucks so softly at your clit, tongue rolling over and over that little bundle of nerves.

You’re soaking, you can feel it running down onto the bed. He swipes the flat of his tongue through you slit, picks his head up enough for you to see the thick, glistening string of saliva and slick connecting him to your cunt.

You press a hand to your mouth as your hips buck, muffling the noise you make into you palm.

“No, no,” he whimpers, “how am I supposed to know I’m taking care of you? Please, baby, let me hear you. I know I’m never gonna hear heaven’s choir so you’re the closest I’ve got.”

He dives down with renewed vigor, sloppy noises mixing with his grunts and moans. He’s writhing his own hips into the bed, getting off on the taste of you alone. You’ve lost control of your voice - and your hands. They’re tangled up in his mohawk, guiding him to tongue fuck you just right.

You don’t know what does it? What sets you off. Only that it’s all too much all at once and you’re tipping over the edge before you can think about what it means when you do. You clench down on his tongue, ride his mouth as wave after wave curves your back off the mattress.

When you can breathe again, his cheek is lying on your thigh, a dopey, cum-drink grin on his messy face.

“So pretty when you cum,” he sighs, lashes fluttering. There’s a wet spot against your calf; he came when you did. Just… just from…

“Can’t wait to give you another.”

[mypoisonedvine]

𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 || william killick x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 || your husband sometimes gets carried away with his devotion to you...

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 || 3.7k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 || noncon/heavy dubcon smut (18+ only!!! rough sex, breeding kink, marking kink, hair pulling, praise and degradation, dark but the reader is lowkey into it lmaooo), jealousy and possessiveness, yandere vibes?, gaslighting/manipulation, established relationship, alcohol consumption

"Heavens, you look stunning!" Gordon announced when he saw you, opening his arms wide as an invitation for an embrace.  You only went in for a quick hug, but he grabbed you tight and kissed the top of your head as you laughed delightfully.  "Doesn't she look ravishing?  Don't I have excellent taste?"

The other ladies nearby nodded in agreement, hanging off of him like they tended to.  That was the way Gordon was: magnetic, for his personality just as much as his looks.  Blonde curls with light brown eyes and that megawatt smile… as long as you'd known him, he'd never had trouble with ladies— he just made trouble for them.

"Aren't I the greatest literary agent you ever had?" he asked you, and you rolled your eyes.

"You're the only I've ever had," you reminded him.  "You represented me when I was a teenage girl trying to sell my assignments from secondary school!"

"Yes, so I win by default," he decided with a big kiss to your cheek that made you scrunch up your nose.

"But that makes you the worst I ever had, too, doesn't it?" you noticed as Gordon relaxed his embrace to just an arm around your waist.

"See?" he prompted the nearby women, "Didn't I tell you?  Can't get anything past this one— sharp as a whip, she is—"

As you shrugged in dismissal of the praise, you looked around the room in awe of all Gordon had done for you now.  He had a taste for the extravagant, clearly; truth be told, it was nothing like you'd pictured it, and nothing like what you'd asked him for when he insisted on throwing a party.

"So, please, drink up, be merry, all of that," Gordon instructed his ladies, motioning out towards the crowded room, "get properly sloppy if you must— all in honour of this lovely woman right here… a genius of writing, and one of my longest and dearest friends."

As they departed in search of free drinks, you turned to Gordon with a nervous frown.  "I'm not sure this is really all for me, Gordy," you sighed.

"Of course it is," he chuckled heartily, "I told you I'd throw something to celebrate another year of us working together— I wanted to have a gala for your novel's first publishing, but you were too busy on the honeymoon then—"

You smiled just at the mention of your honeymoon.

"All these people, doll, they're here for you," Gordon assured.

"The people, maybe; but the evening wear, the drinks, the music, the glamour?  That's for you, isn't it?" you smirked.

But before he could respond to the accusation, his eyes fell somewhere at the other end of the room, and he turned you to look the same way.  "Speaking of people here for you…" he trailed off.

You perked up when you saw William, slipping through the crowds of people, already approaching you with his hat tucked under his arm.

"You came!" you squealed with excitement as you jumped towards your husband, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing his cheek.  "Oh, dear," you sighed when you saw that you'd printed berry-red lipstick on his cheek, starting to wipe it off with your fingers.

"I couldn't miss it, of course," he smiled at you, his voice so soft you barely heard it over the hustle and bustle of the party.

"They shouldn't have let you in," Gordon said, making you both look back at him.  "It's black tie only, you know."

William smiled slightly with his lips pressed together.  "He's only joking," you realised with an awkward mumble.

"The uniform seemed to go over alright," William replied, sticking his hand out towards Gordon for a shake.

"Oh, don't be so formal," Gordon laughed as he yanked William into rough side-hug.  "We know each other, don't we?"

"Sort of," William answered under his breath as Gordon put a heavy hand— adorned with golden decorative rings— on his shoulder.  

"Though I've half a mind to rough you up for convincing my star author to publish her next book under her married name," Gordon continued with a haughty laugh.  "She's already so established with the maiden name!"

"I didn't convince her of anything, I only married her," William defended.  

"Never thought you'd manage to tie this one down," Gordon smirked, "independent as she is."

"She didn't put up too much of a fight," William winked at you, and you felt a little flushed as you blinked quickly.

Apparently tired with that line of conversation, Gordon stood beside you and flipped it back to the real topic of the evening: your writing.

“She’s quite a prodigy!” Gordon exclaimed with a wide grin, wrapping an arm around you, then.  “You’ve read what she writes, haven't you?”

“Some of it,” William admitted with a nervous laugh, looking down for a moment.  “The rest is too sad for me, I’m afraid.”

“Her latest is a masterpiece,” Gordon assured.  “Forbidden love, secrets, affairs—”

“Sordid stuff,” William frowned, shaking his head.

“Sells, though,” Gordon winked.  “Men and women— we’re even selling copies in America!”

William only nodded, not seeming too convinced, and you deflated slightly as you reached out for your husband’s hand.  “Aren’t you proud of me?” you asked, sounding much more pathetic than you meant to.

“Of course, darling,” he smiled at you, “always.”

“You don’t mind if I borrow your lovely wife again, do you?” Gordon beamed.  “There’s some people over there she should meet— they might just sponsor the tour for her next novel.”

“All these book tours, I feel as if she’s hardly ever home,” William sighed.

“Well, we’ve got to keep her on the tours,” Gordon chuckled, “or that pretty face will go to waste!”

William’s jaw tightened as he nodded curtly in agreement, and you felt nervousness turning in your stomach.

“You should have a drink, soldier,” Gordon offered to lighten the obvious tension, handing William a wide glass of champagne.

He patted your husband a little too roughly on the back as he drank, before dragging you off to talk to some publishers or whatever— you glanced over to try to see your husband at the bar, hoping to catch him smiling at you, but you only caught his icy stare over the edge of his glass.

~

Enough liquor loosened you both up, and you managed to enjoy the party well into the hours of the night— it was almost one in the morning when you got home, yet you had a shocking amount of energy still coursing through you as you started to undress at the vanity.  It must’ve been all the people there, and knowing they were all celebrating you; it was electrifying, even as someone who preferred to be cooped up alone with her typewriter.

William leaned against the bedroom doorway as you shed your heels and stockings, then unpinned your hair.  When you saw him skulking on the reflection, you smirked to yourself, taking out one of your earrings.

“What’s the matter, love?” you asked sweetly, but he said nothing.  “Love?”

“I guess I’m not much of a partier,” he explained flatly.

You smiled a little, taking out your other earring and then reaching behind your neck to unclasp your necklace.  You didn’t even really notice the silence before it was broken.

“I don’t like the way he looks at you,” William said suddenly, and you scoffed— once you realised what he was talking about.

“He’s just that way,” you assured, “I don’t take it personally.”

“And all the talk of your genius, of your prodigious writing— that’s not personal?”

You shrugged slightly as you turned slightly and looked at him over your shoulder, smiling but knitting your brows together in confusion.  “Isn’t that why you married me?  I thought you liked the way people fawn over me.”

“But you know him,” William insisted again.  “You knew him before you even met me, you work with him— you spend long hours with him, when I’m gone—”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you laughed, standing up, but he only glared at you.  You tilted your head as you approached him.  “William, you couldn’t really think—”

“Don’t patronise me,” he sneered, and when you reached out to touch his face, he snatched you by the wrist and yanked you closer.

“William!” you scolded, whimpering as he moved his face close to yours, nostrils flaring as he breathed heavily through them.  “William, please—”

“Look at me,” he demanded, grabbing your face with his other hand.  “Look at your husband, darling.”

You bit your lip to suppress its shaking, meeting his fiery— yet cold— stare.  “You’re hurting me,” you whispered, tightening your hand into a weak fist as he held it painfully tight.

“I can see, you know,” he told you sharply and quietly through his teeth.  “I can see the way you laugh at his jokes, and let him pull you closer.  His hand on your hip—”

“It’s nothing, William,” you breathed, and his hand moved down from your face to your neck, then your chest, where he brushed his fingers over the neckline of your dress.

“Wearing the dresses he buys for you,” he noticed with a sneer.  “God, he’s got you looking like his fucking whore.”

He shoved you back and you tripped to land on the bed, hiding your face in fear and shame as he stalked towards you.

“Now you want to play innocent?” William spat as he towered over you.  “I told you to fucking look at me!”

“I can’t!” you sobbed, fighting when he grabbed your arms and tried to pry them apart, attempting to force you to turn onto your back.  “I can’t, William, not when you’re like this!”

“You made me like this!” he accused, eventually getting you to turn over so he could pin down your wrists on either side of your head.  “You made me like this,” he said again, voice lowered from shouting to a soft growl.  “You let him put his filthy fucking hands all over you, didn’t you?”

“No, William,” you denied, crying weakly as you shook your head.  “Never.  I love you— I love you more than anything.”

“But you won’t tell me the truth,” he snarled.  “The truth, darling, not another story— not another one of your goddamn stories!”

“He kissed me!” you admitted suddenly, and before you could explain, William roughly slammed his lips onto yours.  You whimpered into it, struggling against his tightening grip, and he pressed you down into the bed with the weight of his body.

“Tell me how it happened,” he demanded, lips still brushing against yours as he spoke, eyes still piercing through you.

“I swear, Will, I told him to stop,” you breathed, “I pushed him away.  I told him I love you, William— and I do, don’t you know how much I do?”

“He kissed you,” William repeated, rage tinting his voice.

“That’s all, I swear,” you promised.

“And you didn’t tell me—”

“I thought you’d get angry,” you defended weakly.

“You didn't tell your poor, doting husband,” he groaned, “your heartbroken husband—”

“I’m so sorry, William,” you whispered.

“Why didn’t you tell me, hm?  Because you love him?”

“No!  Fuck, no,” you cried.

“Because you considered it— because you thought about letting him make love to you?”

“No!” you shouted, but he suddenly put a hand over your mouth to muffle it.  When you stopped, stilling briefly as he looked down at you, he took his hand away and stroked your cheek with it.

“He must have forgotten,” William whispered under his breath, petting your face and acting oddly sweet.  “He must have forgotten that you… belong to me.”

You blinked quickly, shivering as he pressed a slow, short kiss to your lips.

“That these lips belong to me,” he continued with a sigh, “that this neck belongs to me—”

He kissed it, but brushed his teeth teasingly over your pulse.

“That every single, beautiful, perfect part of you,” he went on, hands running down over your chest and settling on your waist tightly, “belongs to me.”

He bit down harder on your neck and you whined.

“Did you forget too, darling?”

“William, you’ll leave marks,” you whimpered, “you’ll bruise me—”

“Good,” he purred, “then you can’t just take your ring off and act single, can you?”

“I never take off your ring, William,” you swore, “not even to bathe…”

“I still want my marks all over you,” he explained darkly, “I still want you bruised tomorrow.  I don’t just want them to know you’re married, darling— I want them to know how good I fuck you.  I want them to know that your husband fucks you.”

Suddenly his hands were at your dress, tearing it to shreds right down the front.

“And I want them to know,” he continued with a groan, “how much you love it.”

He flipped you over roughly, yanking you up by your hair until you were forced to scramble onto your hands and knees.  Your head dropped defeatedly when he let go of your hair, and he held your hips tightly with one hand as he opened his trousers with the other.

“W-wait,” you stammered, but he ignored you, reaching up under the tatters of your dress to yank your girdle and panties down.  Before you could beg for some mercy again he slammed into you, making you choke out a wavering cry; instantly he was fucking you hard and fast, making you shake all over and try to reach back to grab his hips so he might slow down.  “W-Will, love, please—” you whimpered helplessly.

“Fuck, if that son of a bitch could see you like this,” William sneered.  “If he could see you now— he’d know who you belong to, wouldn’t he?  If he could see you on your hands and knees, begging for me…”

He fucked you even harder— his hand reached up to hold onto your shoulder so you wouldn’t fall forward from the force of it.

“If he could see what a dirty little wife you are,” he groaned, digging his fingers into your skin— more marks, you were sure.  “Fuck, you’re soaking me already, darling.”

A whimper slipped from your mouth as he leaned down, holding you tightly and speaking right by your ear.

“You like it, don’t you?  Playing with me,” he hissed.  “You like driving your poor husband crazy, thinking you might be stepping out on him?”

You shook your head, choking on a moan as he slowed his movements to make sure every thrust reached as deep into you as possible.  “N-no, love, no—”

“You like how I fuck you when I’m angry, don’t you?” he went on anyways, biting the shell of your ear until your channel clenched around him.  “Is that what got you so wet, darling?”

Biting your lip to hide your moans, you held tighter onto the sheets beneath you, and one of his hands came down to wrap around yours.

“So sweet,” he cooed, “such a sweet little wife.  You look so innocent, darling, they have no idea what a slut you are— none of them do, but fuck… they will.”

He sped up again and you whined loudly; the pain and the pleasure together made your legs shake, hardly able to hold you up on the bed.  He snatched one of the nearby pillows and shoved it under your hips— it kept them up when he began to fuck you so hard that you fell forward, and the angle hit just right inside you as a desperate scream was muffled by your face falling into the sheets.

"Yes, there she is," he praised, "my whore wife— how she loves to be fucked, reminded of her place.  This is your place, isn't it?  In my bed, sweet cunt taking my cock?  Not out with that awful man— not on those godforsaken book tours—"

When you tried to reach back to keep him from going too deep again, he grabbed your wrists and pinned them back beside your face as he kept thrusting even faster, making the whole bed bounce and shake.

"You can take it all, darling," he promised with a groan, "you can fit your husband inside, all the way— fuck, you're so beautiful like this.  You're so perfect, my angel…"

He buried his face in your neck as he thrusted into you, his own moans rivalling yours while he kissed your neck and ear and shoulder.  

No one could accuse your husband of lacking passion, even if they didn’t see him like this— which you really hoped they didn’t.  From the very beginning, he’d pursued you fervently: he read one of your short stories, and wrote rather effusive fan mail to the magazine in which it was published.  And then when he came to your publisher’s office hoping to meet you, he took one look at you and became properly obsessed.  He insisted you were the love of his life… and before you’d even really gotten to know him!  You were nearly offended at first; but the longer his seduction went on, the more you couldn’t help but fall for him.  Strong yet tender, kind yet stern, intelligent yet sensitive… and creative, much more than you expected.  He had quite an imagination.

Unfortunately, that imagination had a dark side, especially with his tendency to be quite jealous.  It had never gone this far before, though.

He pulled out of you, only a moment of relief and disappointment, before turning you onto your back and hovering over you.  “Look at me,” he demanded again, though his voice was low and gentle now, “look up at me, beautiful.”

He tilted your chin up with two fingers, admiring the tears in your eyes with a tender sort of expression.

“Oh, my darling,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss your neck as he slowly pushed back inside you.  Your back arched and he slipped one arm under it to hold you tightly as he set a more careful pace than before— though still not all that slow.  "My beautiful girl— you can't help it, can you?  The way men feel about you."

A slightly deeper thrust made you gasp and reach up to hold his shoulders, blinking through the watering in your eyes.

"Of course he kissed you," he breathed, "if you were another man's wife, I'd kiss you too.  I'll always have to have you, darling, nothing could stop me."

"I pushed him away, love," you swore again.

"I know, I know," he cooed.  "But I still can't stand to think of it… of my darling wife being kissed by someone else.  He would've only done that if he thought you'd kiss him back, you know— he thought you would let him fuck you."

He picked up his pace, staring deep into your eyes and gripping you tightly.

“When you’re pregnant, then he’ll know,” William announced proudly as he held your hips.  “Then everyone who sees you will know: you fucking belong to me.”

Overwhelmed by it, you felt yourself get even hotter and slicker between the legs at the idea of that.  He was wrong about you wanting to make him jealous, but neither of you could deny now that you got some gratification out of it.

“Say it,” he ordered.

“I belong to you,” you promised, “I’m yours— you know I’m yours, love, always—”

He hummed in agreement, pumping deeper and faster into you as your head spun.  “You’ll be the most beautiful expectant wife there ever was,” he purred, a rough hand tugging your bra out of the way and groping your breasts.  “These nice and full— all of you swollen and soft—”

“W-William,” you stammered, hardly able to breathe with his weight on you and the way he filled you.

“Big belly,” he cooed, “and my baby inside— our baby.  Fuck, how can I wait to see you like that?”

“F-fuck,” you choked out, “don’t stop, please… please, my love—”

“I’ll fill you, darling,” he promised lowly, baring his teeth as you started to fall into it— your head tilting back into the mattress, pleasure overtaking you, your fingers digging into his shoulders.  “I’ll give you everything I have, every night, until it takes—”

“Please,” you begged, holding him tighter and lifting your face up with what little energy you had to bury it in his shoulder.  You cried from the intensity of it all— from everything— as shudders wracked your body.  He groaned as he felt you pulsing around him, kissing your face and groaning beside your ear.

“What a good little wife,” he praised as you came, “what a perfect little wife— you want it, don’t you?  To be pregnant, have my child?”

You barely managed to nod, you were so overcome by every sensation running through you.  But you did, and he growled proudly.

“You will, my angel,” he promised, “I’ll make sure of it.  Just say one more time that you love me, darling— that you’ll always be mine—”

“I-I love you so much, William,” you swore, muffled in the jacket that you clutched needily.  “I’m yours— I’m always yours— oh!”

You lost track of your words, but it didn’t matter then because you were drowned out by his gasps: heavy, low breaths as he pressed into you one last time and filled you completely.

Instantly, you were flooded with even more emotions: shame, ecstasy, confusion, hurt, love.  It was too much to take even if you weren’t still slightly tipsy and entirely sleep-deprived, but altogether it just turned you into a mess.

After coming down from his high— though he was still catching his breath— William seemed to sober up in a second as you cried harder.  Cooing gently at you, he wrapped his arms tighter around you and hugged you close.

“I’m sorry, darling,” he breathed as he held you tightly, “I’m so sorry.  You know it’s just my love that makes me this way— I just can’t stand to see another man lay his hand on you… I just can’t imagine you with anyone else, it breaks my heart, darling.”

“You break my heart, William,” you whispered back, still hiding in his shoulder, “when you think I could ever hurt you like that.  When you accuse me of something like that—”

“I just get scared, darling,” he sighed, petting your back slowly as he rocked you in his arms.  “I just get scared that you’re too good to be true.  That this beautiful creature can’t be all mine.”

You smiled against his skin, holding onto him tighter.  “I love you so much, William… I’d never— you have to believe me, I’d never—”

“Shh,” he soothed softly, as he held your head and kissed the top of it.  “I know, darling, I know.  Because you belong to me.”

[urfavleo777]

joost klein x fem!oc smut

warnings: fingering, language.

The club near the beach seemed to be a favorite attraction for tourists.

After midnight, every corner was bustling with life, people were constantly smiling and exchanging long discussions at the tables. There was no room for lack of alcohol; every table was decorated with at least one bottle of wine or, in crazy cases, vodka. The music playing in the background pushed guests towards the dance floor, where they danced to the rhythm of fast songs.

“It's only our third day and we have already made this place our tradition.” My friend Lena exclaimed, accidentally spilling her glass of vodka. “Fuck! I knew everything was going too well!”

Amber and I burst into laughter as we watched our friend make sloppy movements to wash away the stinking liquid. Amber was really beautiful. She had large, almost black eyes. Quite strong makeup emphasized her delicate facial features and full lips.

We met her on the first day of our trip in the Netherlands. We bumped into each other while looking for a hotel in Noordwijk; or rather, we were saved by her. The taxi dropped me and Lena off at a remote location, both of our phones were dead, so we didn't know how to get to the hotel. The fact that it was only a few minutes after midnight didn't help at all. I remember thinking we would be stuck there forever.

Fortunately, we found Amber on a dark street where she was returning from work. She calmed us down and helped us find our way. We thanked her, she wrote her phone number on a piece of paper and the next day she took us here; to a lively beachside pub. We've been coming here every night since then.

“Come on, I'll help you wash it off. It's a waste of such a pretty dress.” She said calmly, standing up and leading Lena towards the door marked with a triangle symbol. Lena's crimson lips curved into a slight smile and she looked at me, her look instantly revealing her shock and nervousness. Oh, I knew exactly how Lena felt about Amber. She told me that the day after we met, they exchanged messages. I often caught her smiling at the phone, but out of respect for them, I chose to act as if I knew nothing.

“We'll be right back, Y/n. Maybe you'll find yourself a nice gentleman who will make your evening even more pleasant!” A smirk appeared on Lena's face. I rolled my eyes, hiding my amusement.

“Have fun and don’t get lost this time!” Amber called after me and giggled.

“Maybe you'd better not come back!” I stuck my tongue out at them in a mocking way.The girls gave me the middle finger before the door finally closed.

I sighed, taking a sip of vodka, washing it down with Pepsi. I felt the vibrations on my body, despite my fatigue I felt the call of the music. There was a smell of alcohol in the air and the smell of smoke released from time to time from under the DJ console. 

After one glass of alcohol in a row, I stopped feeling tired. A dance floor full of dancing people seemed damn tempting. The thumping bass and catchy beats effectively encouraged me to devote myself to the music. 

Seconds and minutes passed and the girls didn't come back. White light flashed from the ceiling from time to time, blinding for a second. I squinted a bit and checked the time on my phone. 01:01 AM.

Suddenly I felt someone's eyes on me. This may sound funny because, hey, I was just in a crowded club, it's normal for people to look at each other. But this was different, I felt frustrated when someone was staring at me and I didn't even know who.

I looked up from my phone and then I saw him.  A few tables in front of me, a man sat alone, sipping a drink. His blond hair was messy and disheveled, and he was wearing thick-rimmed glasses. Something moved strangely inside me when our eyes met. He gave me a brave smirk that it sent shivers down my spine.

When he realized that I had exposed him, he took off his glasses and put them on the table. However, he was too far away for me to get a good look at his facial features. I noticed that he was holding a cigarette in the fingers of his right hand. He took a drag of it, watching me in concentration. Is smoking even allowed in clubs?

Girl, you're in the Netherlands. I reminded myself.

“Y/n!” I heard someone shouting my name as I turned back and saw Amber and Lena running towards me. When they both took their seats, I had a perfect view of their rosy cheeks, uneven breathing and the abashed glances they were sending to each other. I suppressed a smile with a clear throat. “I'm sorry you had to wait so long. Lena got her dress so dirty that we had to take it all off to clean it.”

Why is everybody having sex except me?

“Oh, I can certainly imagine that. Actually, I’m tired of sitting in one place all the time. How about hitting the dance floor?”

“Finally! I thought you'd never ask!” Lena squealed, grabbing both of our hands.

About half a minute later we were in a different state of consciousness. The colorful spotlights seemed brighter and the music seemed louder. We were jumping to the rhythm of some electronic song, shouting its lyrics to each other. The song was in a foreign language and it was the first time I heard it, so Amber was probably the only one in our group who sang the lyrics correctly. My legs were burning with fire. It's been a long time since I spent such a long time on the dance floor dancing non-stop, but I enjoyed it. 

Now I was much closer to the table of the man who was staring at me with incredible passion.

I looked at him again, and when we made eye contact, he winked at me. The stranger, dressed in black jeans and a gray hoodie, stared at me with an unreadable expression, blonde hair falling across his forehead. I didn't even know his name, but everything about him was suddenly stirring something inside me. His blonde hair. High cheek bones. His mustache. The tattoos on his hands. His smile too. It was something I couldn't look away from. As if I'd seen him somewhere before, but couldn’t recall where.

When “Careless whisper” started playing and Amber and Lena started to get closer to each other, I decided to leave them alone.

I gave a thumbs up to give Lena courage. She smiled shyly and placed her hands on Amber's waist. I apologized to the people around me and left the dance floor, heading outside. I needed to get some fresh air, and more specifically, listen to the sound of the sea waves.

The night was cold and the wind bit at my bare arms, chills running through my body. I sat down on the sand and scolded myself for not bringing anything to cover my head and shoulders. 

I inhaled sharply and then listened to my heartbeat because I was alone. I didn't worry about getting my dress dirty. It was worth it for this view. 

I started to feel dizzy. I felt like I was about to fall asleep. I shouldn’t have drank too much.

"Enjoyed dancing to one of my songs, huh?" I suddenly heard a raspy voice from behind me. I turned around to experience the biggest shock of my life. It was the same man who had ogled me in the club. I looked at him with wide eyes. The moonlight fell on him, making his honey skin shine, while the wind blew, making his hair move gently. Even the moon wasn't as beautiful as him.

I scrunched my nose. I tried to recreate all the songs I danced to in my head. I didn't have to wait long until he finally sat down next to me.

“You're a musician?”

He let out a small chuckle and, oh my God, his laugh was so hot. 

“Yeah, something like that. But lately people have gotten used to calling me Europapa. I guess, I don't have a name anymore.” I laughed at his words. After his hint, I was finally able to figure out what song he was the author of.

“Ah, it's you. I knew you reminded me of someone. In my country, people already made you a global superstar.”  He raised an eyebrow at me and smirked.

“Oh, really? Where are you from?”

I nodded. “Poland, straight from the capital. How about you, Joost?”

I used his name for the first time since I could finally remember it. Judging by the expression on his face, I had to amuse him with my pronunciation because he started laughing. The smile disappeared from my face.

“No, no, no. Mh, I live in Leeuwarden, but currently I’m on tour. Came here in order to relieve my stress a bit. And you can call me whatever you want.”

I almost offered him another way to relieve his stress. It took all my might to hold back my laughter.

“Oh, I feel flattered.”

For a moment I looked at his shapely lips. Of course, he noticed that.

“Is that so?”

“Mhm.” I mumbled in a quiet voice, not knowing what to say.

“Can I get your name?” He asked finally.

“It's Y/n.” I said honestly, looking straight into his blue eyes. “Do you have anything to explain how you were devouring me with your eyes earlier?”

I bit the inside of my cheek, mentally scolding myself. I really should learn to keep my mouth shut.

I looked up, immediately seeing a wide smile on Joost's face.

“Sorry. You're just so fucking pretty, I couldn't help myself.”

I bit my lip, suppressing a loud moan. I hated myself for how much he affected me.

“Can I?” He asked before placing his hand on my bare thigh. I nodded excitedly, waiting for him to move, which made him laugh a little.

“Mh- yes. Please.” I added with a pleading look on my face.

He dragged his hand slowly to my inner thigh, tossing my leg over his thigh, and made a low humming noise that vibrated from his chest.

Before I knew it, Joost's lips were smushed against mine in a passionate kiss. I gasped into his mouth as I melted against his lips, my hands resting comfortably on his muscled arms as his laid against my warm neck. Joost grasped the underside of my thighs and pulled me off the ground, wrapping my legs around his hips. 

“Joost..” I moaned breathily as his puffy lips attacked my neck, “I need you.”

“Of course you do, who wouldn't?” He teased, leading me towards his car. It was so dark that even if someone had been on that beach with us, wouldn’t have noticed us.

“Such a narcissist.”

Joost chuckled, “You know, if you shut that slutty mouth for once, you'd be so pretty.”

He opened the car door and put me in the back seat. After a while, he closed the door and sat down next to me.

“Oh, Y/n. I will give your body exactly what it deserves.” He said, a wide grin on his face as he leaned down to kiss me once more.

I bit my bottom lip and answered with one simple word.

“Yes.”

Joost wasted no time. He placed me on his lap and rolled up my tight dress. He moved his hands all over my body, making me go crazy.

“Your body is art.” He murmured.

His eyes pierced through mine, his gaze so intense that I almost melted on top of him. My hand shyly reached for his, playing around with his fingers and I moved my eyes down to look at what we were doing. “Is that what you want?” His voice was soft as if to not scare me away. “You want my fingers?” I looked in his eyes again and nodded my head quickly, feeling a tingling sensation on my stomach from the excitement. His other hand came up to caress my cheek and a little smirk could be seen on his lips. 

I moved on his lap when I was ready and one of his hands grabbed my hip while the other one ran up and down my thigh.

“Please.” I moaned, grasping his forearm tightly as I scrunched my face up in pleasure.

His fingertips brushed through my folds, coating them in my juices and I whined when I felt him rub slowly at my clit. “You're a soaking mess, baby.” His voice was so calm, a contrast to how shaky my breath was.

I gasped and he started applying more pressure to my clit. He eased one of his fingers inside me and a soft moan left my lips, my hips moving to ride his finger, his eyes intensely staring at me. “More.” I whined quietly.

“More?” He smirked and inserted another finger, feeling how my walls clenched around his digits, his hand moving to match the movements of my hips, thrusting his finger in and out of my pussy and I could ear the wet sounds it did.

“I'm so c-close, Joost. Just like that.” I moaned louder, locking his fingers between my legs. 

“Cum on my fingers, baby.”

“Oh God,” I cried out as wave after wave of pleasure rocked through my body.

When I was done, he slowly removed his fingers from my pussy, moving them to his mouth, sucking my juices from them, grunting at the taste of me which made me sigh heavily at the sight in front of me.

“Take off your pants, Joost.”

“Of course, baby.” He chuckled, politely following my order.

[anundyingfidelity]

DEVOTION — Dean, Sam

Summary: You get into the path of the Winchester brothers, and since then, nothing is the same once a bond strictly agreed for pleasure is created between you and them. When they want, they follow you, and you know they always follow.

Pairing: Dean x goddess of rain reader x Sam

Word count: 2,1k.

Warnings: smut, threesome, vaginal sex, anal sex (no dp, sorry i failed as a slut in here), voyeurism, light choking, light spanking, marking, praising, light degradation, pet names, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, oral - male receiving (female receiving mentioned), facefucking, fingering, hints to aftercare, p*rn without much plot honestly.

Also my main language is not english just in case lmao, enjoy! and thanks everyone for the encouragement on this. <3

GEN MASTERLIST!

“Oh, Dean…” you gasp as pleasure takes you.

The softness of your skin on top of him, his rough hands gripping tightly on your sides and rubbing your ass cheeks create a familiar sensation you yearn for too much. Every time it is like electricity is running all down your spine.

He takes your thrusts as you ride him with soft, deep groans falling off his beautiful plump lips. His hips are pushing up just a little, so he can let you know how desperate he is for you. Of feeling you, of filling up your pussy with his seed and marking you with his nails and the rough touch of his fingers.

Sam watches from afar, sitting comfortably in the softness of a sofa. He has all the perfect view from there as Dean spreads your ass cheeks and rubs your slit with two fingers, feeling the place where you two connect sinfully.

This is not new for any of you.

When they found you during a case involving powerful deities, you had agreed to help them as payment for freeing you from a curse that was keeping you chained and with no strength for decades. Professional hunting questions turned into favors, and favors turned into a somewhat weird relationship where they called you once something got difficult. They just prayed to you and then you would show up in a few minutes. Fair to say, you never let them down, not never.

It was one night then after a couple of tough weeks on a hunt, in which you couldn’t control yourself, that Dean had the impulse of calming you with a kiss in front of his brother.

Much to your surprise, it worked. The storm and thunder dissipated slowly, and soon, all of your clothes disappeared, inviting Sam to join in the process. At first, it was more like an unspoken deal, just talking about the essentials: what you like, what you are not up to, your turn ons, your turn offs… They were so into you, and you desired them just the same.

In the beginning, you underestimated the Winchesters being mere mortals, sometimes getting themselves into problems they most likely won’t solve or make it out alive. But that was what you loved about them. Even being simple humans, they proved how much they could worship a goddess, breaking you and putting you back together, again and again.

Your sweet moans and breath hitching echoes in the room. Sam immediately knows you’re on the verge of getting to heaven, until it happens in front of his eyes. Your legs tremble, your nails dig into his brother’s bare shoulders, his rough grip on your hips forcing you up and down while you ride your high. Sam is not even looking at your face, but his cock twitches and he licks his lips unconsciously as he pictures your plump mouth open and your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Of all the women he had fucked, you were simply ethereal. His brother had agreed about that before.

You lean to kiss Dean in your afterglow, sloppy and wet, rolling your hips just slowly to keep torturing him. A devilishly smirk appears on your lips when he grunts against your mouth. Before he cums, you pull away and get off him. His cock is hard as a rock, and you just give him a greater mischievous smile and a hard stroke, coating his shaft with your juices. He gasps, giving a shallow thrust into your hand.

“Stop teasing,” Dean warns.

“I’m not, just preparing you,” you say, faking your innocence, something you know you don’t have at all. Not while they are here.

You give a look at Sam, who’s been waiting on your sofa almost the whole time, and he looks more than ready to have his way with you. Legs spread, clothes gone, he looks at you as if you were the treasure he never knew existed.

“I need to take care of him too, don’t be a selfish jerk,” you wink at Dean and call his younger brother to your bed. “Come here, Sammy,” you voice out, crawling to the edge of the mattress and staying on your hands and knees for him.

He does obey immediately, taking long strides and he stops in front of you, in all his bare glory and you bite your lip, picturing all the ways he would ruin you right now.

You might be the deity they found on earth, but you always awed at how they could be real.

Sam’s hand tangles into your hair before he bends down to taste your lips.

“Which hole are you choosing for tonight?” you ask once he pulls away.

He caresses your bottom lip with his thumb before pushing in between your lips. You suck on it with a moan.

“Right now I just wanna fuck your mouth,” Sam growls. “Get my reward for eating your pussy so fucking good…”

You tremble with excitement, reminiscing about the first orgasm you had for the night thanks to his wonderful lips and wet tongue.

He pulls his thumb away all of the sudden and instead of his finger, you’re now with his tip brushing your lips before he finally pushes in.

You wrap your lips around the head of his dick, earning a moan from his throat that causes you to clench your thighs together.

“Oh, shit,” he hisses once his dick hits the back of your throat, and you gag just a little with eyes shut. “You always feel so good no matter what hole I pick.”

Sam’s big hands grab the sides of your face to keep you in place and his hips then thrust into the wetness of your mouth. His pounding starts with a fast pace, and you continuously gag and breathe through your nose.

Dean, who’s sitting down on the mattress at the head of the bed, doesn’t have the complete picture of you, but he has the perfect view of your ass and your pussy, glistening with your own wetness, swollen and used by his cock, his fingers and also Sam’s fingers and mouth. He’s fighting the urge to cum right away. Your moans, or at least the sounds you’re trying to make with your throat stuffed, are too sweet for him to hold back. He can cum by only hearing you squirm. But he tries not to, just giving himself light strokes as he observes the show you’re putting up for him.

You're drooling and spitting when Sam pulls out abruptly from your mouth and you eagerly raise a hand to wrap it around his cock, giving light kisses and licks on his shaft.

“What a cockslut you are,” Sam grunts.

You rub your thighs again at his dirty words, and you start sucking him off at your own pace now, hollowing your cheeks and tasting his precum in the process.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Dean mumbles and decides it is enough.

He crawls behind you, grabs your hips and rubs his cock between your folds and your clit before slamming inside, earning something between a gasp and a moan that sounds too good falling from your lips.

“Your pussy is taking me so fucking well,” Dean starts off his praises, and you clench around his cock hitting your right spots over and over. He moves a finger between your legs to rub your clit and force another orgasm from your body. “Yeah, just like that…”

You cry out and withdraw from Sam’s cock for a moment, whining as Dean fucks you hard. You’re so certain that his hands will leave marks on your skin, but that is just a reminder of what he can do to you anytime. Is not too long until he cums balls deep in your cunt, fucking his seed into you until you feel too sensitive that you stop sucking on Sam’s cock.

“Fuck, she’s so tight,” Dean whispers. He pulls out and watches some drops of his own cum sliding between your legs before going back to Sam with a satisfied smile on his lips. “Wanna use this one?”

One of Sam’s hands moves under your chin, forcing you to look up at him with big eyes.

“Better fill you up properly, right, baby?” Sam says sweetly and you nod.

“Use your words, tell us what you want,” he insists and you gasp and jump a little when Dean gives a spank on your ass cheek.

“Please fuck my ass,” you whimper. “Please fill me up…”

Another light spank from Dean forces a breathy moan out of you.

As you feel Dean shifting behind you on the bed, you still could not comprehend how gentle Sam’s voice can sound sometimes, yet his actions and the guilty pleasure he gives you are totally the opposite. And unlike Sam, Dean is a very straightforward man. He gives orders and you comply, if you are in the mood that’s it. He can be rough and raw if you ask him to, but he can also be caring and tender. It doesn’t matter how they give it to you, in the end you love their own ways of fucking you up completely.

A cold substance is poured on your ass, and you feel Dean’s fingers on your tight hole. Sam leans down to kiss you lovingly when Dean pushes in thick digit to stretch you out. He starts with a slow pace and you relax with Sam kissing you softly, his fingers rubbing your nipples and tits to help you ease the light discomfort that takes over you. Little by little, you’re able to take two fingers, and then you crave for more.

They handle your body softly, until you’re meeting with Dean face to face again and Sam takes a hold of your hips before lining up with your ass. He slowly slides in, inch by inch, kissing your back and rubbing your clit with his fingers to calm you down. You stay still for a moment to get used to the intrusion.

Dean observes you as his brother takes your wrists until your back is against his chest, one of his hands wrapped around your neck without making any pressure. You feel Sam’s breath on your skin and how some locks of his hair brush softly, while Dean’s eyes roam all over your body.

“I’m not gonna last longer,” Sam whispers in a husky voice against your ear.

“Don’t care.”

Your words are enough to drive him crazy. His thrusts become quick too sudden and he stretches so amazingly good that you’re left blank and speechless for a moment. All you feel is his cock, swollen and throbbing, hitting your deepest places and his fingers on your cunt before he fucks you roughly with them too.

Now you feel full.

“Absolutely beautiful like this,” Dean mumbles praises with a dark tone and your walls clench. Fuck, how you love him worshipping all of you.

You feel his hands grabbing your breasts as they bounce with each thrust, playing gently with your nipples.

“Oh shit, I’m so close again,” you gasp, feeling another climax building up.

Sam’s hands leave your wrists and your cunt, and move down to your hips, grunting sweetly as he continues fucking you senseless, and it almost feels like heaven right away. Dean takes it as a chance to plug two of his fingers inside your cunt, and you close your eyes when you cum anew.

“Fuck, you cum so damn fast,” Dean kisses you harshly, swallowing your cries of pleasure against his mouth, all while still rubbing your walls and curling his fingers.

Your own orgasm triggers Sam, and he finally releases inside you. He slows down to a sloppy, calm rhythm, fucking his own climax into you. With a low groan, Sam withdraws out of your tight hole and Dean pulls his fingers out of your pulsing cunt.

The three of you remain still, hearing each other’s heart rate until a soft rain starts outside.

Dean grins against your mouth. “You okay?”

You nod weakly. “Yeah, I’m perfect.”

“Rain gives up pretty much what you’re feeling,” Sam says, shifting behind you. “I take this one as feeling great.”

“Much more than that,” you mumble, collapsing on top of your mattress with a satisfied smile on your lips.

They shift and move around your bedroom, looking for a cloth to clean you up. You share lazy kisses and soft touches on skin before you set up a proper bath.

Tomorrow another hunt awaits, but you’re happy to be in your sacred temple with these two mortals who happened to rescue you just in time to fuck your brains out and get worshipped exactly like you deserved.

tags for this filthy thing thanks lmaooo:

@thesilmarillionblog @cheynovak @ninii-winchester @slut-for-evans-stan @laputafavdeenzovogrincic

[osmanthus-wine-addiction]

15 Degradation

Zhongli x Reader / NSFW / Enemies to Lovers / Angst & past death / Set in the beginning of the Archon War / All the Yakshas and Guizhong are alive / Zhongli is called Morax in here / Reader served a god that was slain by Morax / Canon was hijacked for plot purposes

"Despicable…" You moan, back arching as he resumes tormenting you.

Your captor chuckles at your feeble attempt. "Say it with more conviction if you truly believe it to be true."

You despised this person, yet here you were, drunk on the pleasure he's been poisoning your mind with. The knife you had tried to pierce him with sat on the bedside cabinet like a harmless prop, forgotten.

He was the reason your people no longer had a home, forced to scatter like fallen leaves in the wind. Your god was one of the many that perished under his spear, leaving you to take refuge in the enemy's land. Rather than assimilate into the masses, you chose the path of vengeance. It was a fool's quest, because how could you, a mere mortal, hope to claim the life of a god? You were a fragile egg hurling itself at a boulder.

"You're nothing... ah... but a glorified killer..." You managed to say, but the words held little effect due to that pathetic moan.

How did you end up here, in a state worse than dead? Death was supposed to be the ending to your despair and the reward for your devotion. You were never afraid to die. During this brutal war, it was always lurking around the corner, stalking out its next prey. You were certain that if you failed, it would simply claim you next.

Your people were fierce and resilient, but the war had taken a toll on them. Many starved and were killed during violent clashes with other gods. Morax granted your god's dying wishes and welcomed them into the Guili Assembly with open arms. It did not take them long to forget that the livelihood and stability they currently enjoy was all because of the sacrifice their god had made. Even if every single one of them forgot, you were his high priestess. You had to remember on their behalf. How could you ever forget the humiliation on his face as he begged the enemy to have mercy on his people with his dying breath?

"Hmm…" He hums. "So much bitterness from such sweet lips."

Just like that, your mask was off. A few minutes ago, you were still uttering false praises to him, doing everything in your power to get into his good graces. Your lips were practically dripping with honey, thanking him for taking you in, so eager to repay him in the only way you knew how.

"You vile—Ah!" You cried out as he sucked harshly on your clit. The silk belt tying your wrists to the bed post dug into your skin as you struggled against it. "Just kill me, Morax!"

He paused, lifting his head from between your thighs, eyeing you with those bewitching amber eyes that seemed to glow in the dim light. His handsome face was covered in your glistening slick. Droplets of your traitorous arousal slid down his jaw, joining the sloppy mess below.

"That would be a pity. You've done nothing wrong, given that that the blood of the god you served is on my hands. In fact, I commend your courage to avenge him. The execution leaves much to be desired…" He pauses to draw his tongue along your wet slit. "But it was an honest attempt."

A moan involuntarily slips from between your lips as your body writhed from the stimulation. Why you had not yet been sentenced to death, you could only guess. A swift and bloody gash across your neck would've done it. If his goal was to coax a surrender out of you, his method was rather underhanded, but so was your approach, so you couldn't blame him.

You had tried to seduce the enemy and succeeded. Now you were just reaping the consequences of your actions.

"You…ah… You're wasting your time on me…" You managed to say in between whimpers.

The drag of his wet muscle against your sensitive walls had your back arching and toes curling. It was almost as if he was determined to return the deed, give you a taste of sweet release just as you had moments earlier. If he were not the person you were seeking vengeance on, you might’ve allowed yourself to enjoy this.

Your moans grew more desperate. There was no holding it in any longer. The pleasure was too much for you to contain. You could only let it overtake you, rushing out and right into his waiting mouth.

"The way you pleasured me, did your god teach you to do that? Did you pleasure him with this eager mouth of yours often?" He mused as he got up from between your legs.

"It was my honor to—"

You winced as he took the opportunity of you parting your lips to speak, pushing his fingers into your mouth and playing with your tongue which had nowhere to hide.

"I'm sure it was. I can see why he delighted in you." He tugged his fingers from your lips, tracing a wet trail along your neck, following with his lips.

"My loyalty will never be yours, Morax. Not now, not ever." You looked him straight in the eye.

He chuckled. "Overconfidence is a fickle thing, darling. Who's to say you won't change your mind? Do you truly believe your god would choose to leave you in the hands of someone as despicable as you say?"

You drew in a shaky breath as his lips hovered over your skin. His eyes watched you as you stubbornly averted your gaze. He was being infuriatingly gentle when you were just expecting him to treat you harshly and have his way with you. Instead, he took his time, teasing and seducing you. You drew in a shallow breath when his lips descended on your chest. His hand returned to your neglected pussy, finding your dripping folds and sinking between them. You instinctively pressed your thighs together. Moans spilled from your lips uncontrollably. Just when the surmounting pleasure was about to push you over the edge again, the god pulled away and withdrew his touch. Your mind was in tatters, shredded by the promise of pleasure that he had planted in your traitorous body. He reached down, thumb coaxing your bottom lip free from your bite.

"So reluctant." He mused, stroking the side of your face with the back of a finger. "I will hear it from you eventually, but I wonder what you will ask for. Will it be your freedom, or something else?"

"You'll set me free just because I ask?" You pant.

"If you promise not to repeat the foolish mistake you made tonight."

"I can't promise that." You replied right away.

Morax chuckles. "Understandable."

He gets up and pulls his robes back on. In a matter of seconds, the god is dressed as impeccably as before you had tugged off his belt, like you had never entered his tent.

"Untie me!" You demand him when it was clear he was about to leave.

"Have you changed your mind so soon?"

Your face grew hot as realization settled on you. Morax was not releasing you until you gave him your word. What a petty god. Your chances of succeeding now was nonexistent, not that it was ever probable to begin with. What was the point of keeping you tied up if he wasn't fearing for his life?

"I've already pledged myself to another god." You answered, unashamed.

"Your god is dead." Morax reminds you.

"It doesn't matter."

The god's brows furrowed.

"I will never serve you, Morax. You might as well kill me."

He never touched you after that day. You were still tied to that bed, but at least you were clothed. In fact, Morax had stopped visiting you altogether, probably moving his resting quarters elsewhere. The military encampment was alit with rumors of you. The soldier who brought you food and stood outside the tent tried to make conversation with you, but you refused to eat or engage with him.

Finally, after you had passed out due to lack of nourishment, Morax returned. When you regained consciousness, you were back on the bed and propped up against a stack of pillows.

"Is this how you repay the god you claim to be loyal to? By wasting your life away?" His deep voice was soothing to your ears, but you would never admit that.

"Why do you care?" You turned your head, refusing the spoon held up against your lips. "I can follow him into death if I want. Who are you to stop me?"

"The one your god, who you hold in such high regard, entrusted you to."

You narrowed your eyes at him. "Don't gild yourself Morax. You're just a cold-blooded murderer."

His hand froze in midair. So you might’ve gone a bit too far with that claim, but the words had already escaped your lips and it was too late to take them back.

Morax had many supporters and allies, unlike your god, who was perhaps too distrusting and proud to join forces with another. It wasn't until his death that he finally asked for help, for the sake of the humans who followed him.

"Do you truly think that lowly of me?" He asked you gravely.

"I'm just a follower of a dead god. My opinion shouldn't hold any weight." You smirked, but the expression looked pathetic on your gaunt face. "Why haven't you sentenced me to death yet? Could it be that the great Rex Lapis enjoys being ridiculed?"

"It's certainly not pleasant to be constantly cut by such a sharp tongue, but I must admit, your dedication to your god is quite touching."

"If you think keeping me alive is going to convince me to abandon him and follow you instead, you're awfully naïve."

Morax put down the spoon, laughing heartily at your words.

"That is a first. Naïve…" He repeats the bizarre word. "As the God of Contracts, it would be unfitting of me to punish you for honoring your contract to your god, despite his death freeing you from it."

"I never asked to be freed. You murdered him!"

Morax's eyed darkened as all laughter fell from his face. He sighed.

"I will free you. You may attempt to take my life as many times as you please, but I must warn you. If you fail, there will be consequences."

Your eyes widened in shock. Even the follower of an enemy god knew what these words meant. A contract with Morax was something to be coveted, but what on Teyvat was this one?

"What… consequences?" You asked warily.

"It will not be anything you can't handle. On the contrary, a few of my adepti have been restless as soon as they caught wind of your attempt on my life. They will not be so kind to you if you were to cross them so I advise you to keep your intentions to yourself."

Something was extremely off about this contract right from the beginning. You felt like a mouse lashing out at a bored cat. Morax's Overconfidence was expected. Your vengeance was a joke in his eyes, perhaps endearing even. The way he looks at you, as compassionate as his gaze was, it only added to your crippling guilt and sense of helplessness.

Almost every other night in your bed, you would curl up and weep as you relive the day your god was slain. Sometimes, you would dream of yourself kneeling in front of him, begging for forgiveness. He was dead. You, as his most devoted priestess, should be too. If he was evil, forced you to serve him against your will, made you commit atrocities that would have you clawing at your chest at night, then perhaps you would gladly serve a new god.

After being set free, you stayed in the Millelith encampment as Morax expected. His adepti, as well as the soldiers who were aware of what you had tried to do, were reluctant to accept your constant presence, but Morax ensured that no one dared to lay a hand on you. Eventually, you managed to befriend some of them and managed to learn some lesser known things about the god they followed. One of Morax's closest friends was the god of dust, a weak god if judging by power alone. She had forged an alliance with Morax early on and managed to combine their efforts as their people mingled and settled in the Guili Plains. Even the more reclusive adepti banded together, fighting the war alongside him. Though he was a powerful god, you couldn't deny that the Guili Alliance was much stronger than he could ever be on his own. There was only so much a single god could do. You couldn't help but imagine how different things would've been if your god had considered joining forces with Morax instead of challenging him, but alas all of these thoughts were meaningless with him dead.

"Bonanus, do you think those dead gods curse the land because they're bitter for being pitted against each other in this ridiculous dogfight?"

The hydro yaksha sighed. You always asked her questions like this, but she never minded. She was perhaps one of only people who was qualified to answer them.

"Not all gods curse the land." She said. "Havria never cursed the land either. Even though some of her own people died as a result of her death, it's very different."

He also did not lay down a curse when he died.

"I was one of the Yakshas that Rex Lapis sent to monitor the area after your god was slain." She continued after your silence. "Your god… He truly cared about your people. I can't say the same for all of the gods slain during this war. It was a pity…"

Every soldier at the encampment and most of the adepti called him Rex Lapis out of respect. You were the only one calling him Morax.

It's been almost a month since your last attempt. He was expecting it at this point. Maybe he even secretly looked forward to your attempts, curious to find out how you would go about it. Would the weapon be different? Or would you try to use poison? Each time, Morax seemed to be letting you get away with more, but each attempt would predictably end with your failure. If his adepti knew what was actually going on inside his tent, they would not be so friendly with you.

"Are you a masochist? Why didn't you stop me?" You yelled at him.

The pointed end of your hairpin was embedded in his flesh. You were bent over his body, one hand against his bare chest and the other one holding the pin against his neck. Blood was still seeping out from that gash, an unnatural glimmering gold compared to the vivid crimson that yours was.

"You won't be satisfied until you have this buried in my heart, won't you?" He asked you instead of answering your question.

The expression on his face was unbothered, as if you trying to kill him time and time again was just a minor inconvenience. You had him bleeding and pinned to his bed, but it was clear by how relaxed he was underneath you, this god did not feel threatened by you in the slightest.

"If you know that, why are you still letting me get this close to you? Are you an idiot?"

You tried to withdraw, but he had wrapped his hand around yours, preventing you. His hand maneuvered yours, guiding the tip of your bloodied pin right over his chest. The droplets of molten gold glided over his skin, trailing along his muscles.

"Go on." Morax dared you.

Your eyes widened, panicking. His grip was tight, painful even.

"Madman…" You muttered under your breath as you tried to pry his hand off.

The embellishments along the pin cut into your palm. It wasn't until an unsightly drop of blood slid down your wrist that he let you go, allowing you to drop the pin. It clattered onto to floor, echoing the obnoxious beating of your own heart.

You quickly untangled yourself from him, but couldn't escape. Every time, the punishment was the same as the first. He would always make sure you faced the consequences.

"I gave you the chance, dear. You did not take it." He reminds you as he pulls you back into his arms, trapping you underneath him.

Maybe it wasn't actually the attempt on his life that Morax was indulging in, but serving the punishment he promised you each time you failed. Why did you keep on trying even though the ending was never any different? You would never succeed, no matter how many times he let you close enough.

"I have given you every chance to leave, but you insist on coming back to me each time. What is it that you truly want?" Morax asks you.

"Why do you keep sparing my life then?" You could only deflect with a question of your own, because there was no rational answer to his.

"I would love to ask you the same." He mused. According to your actions, or rather lack of actions, you didn't even want to kill him anymore.

Morax brings your bleeding palm against his lips. A tingling feeling coursed up your spine. In a matter of seconds, the fresh cut was healed, leaving only a faint discoloration. He didn't even bother to tend to his own wound, which was still dripping. Splatters of his golden blood decorated your neck and chest.

He began to stroke your thigh, carefully parting your legs and guiding one over his hip. His fingers dipped into your wet heat, immediately tugging a gasp out of you. Your pussy clamped down on his long digit, shamelessly demanding for more.

You moaned softly as Morax grinded himself against your entrance. It felt so good, you couldn't help but wrap your other leg around his waist, pulling him closer.

"If you want it, you need only ask for it, dear."

"I'll n-never… betray…" You were still stubbornly clinging onto that shred of dignity.

"Oh, I certainly don't doubt that." He chuckled. The sound vibrated against your skin. Heat stirred underneath, giving it an alluring flush.

He added a second finger, pumping in and out of your squelching hole at an increasing pace. The friction was a lit fuse eating through your rational thoughts.

"Does it make you feel wretched if this doesn't happen under the circumstances of a punishment?" His lips brush against your ear, each word piercing through your foggy mind. "A traitor. That's what you are if you sleep with the enemy."

The lascivious sounds drifting from your lips, the trembling of your body, and the copious amount of slick dripping from your hole were all undeniable evidence of your arousal.

"Your body belongs to your god. It would be treacherous of you to allow me inside, won't it? Look at how tightly you're squeezing. I'm afraid this cunt of yours is not as faithful as your lips."

"Just… get it over with… Morax!" You cried out in exasperation.

"You have your limits and I have mines. I will not take you by force." He continued to torture you, riling you up in every way short of shoving his cock inside.

"With everything you've done…" You panted. "What's the difference?"

His fingers have been inside you. His tongue as well. He's seen and touched every inch of your skin and tasted the sweat and tears on your cheeks as well as the arousal between your legs.

"Say it." Morax demands.

You press your lips tightly together as he pulls out his fingers and rubs his hardened cock against your sensitive folds. Soft whimpers escape from you as his tip catches on your slit repeatedly, but never enters.

His deep voice climbs ever so slightly in pitch as he struggles to reign in the urge to shove his cock deep into you, fill you to the brim in a single brutal thrust. His hand wanders, finding your clit.

You moaned as pleasure ripples through your body. His hands gripped your hips, keeping you firmly in place as he coats himself in your slick.

"Just Look at how wet you are. Say that you want it. Please…" His warm breath tickles your skin while his face is buried in the crook of your neck.

"Are you… begging me…?" Surely you were imagining that breathless plea.

"I too can satisfy you." He whispered.

"Morax…"

"Say it!"

"You're unbearable." You groaned.

"Is that a yes?" He asked.

You nodded, writhing as you succumbed to his persistence. "Yes!"

Immediately, you could feel his tip pushing into you. Your moans filled the air as your walls stretched to accommodate his immense girth. Morax's cock bullied its way in until it was completed sheathed within you.

After months of wavering pretense, you could no longer keep up the act. The moment your affirmation left your lips, the depravity you had been holding back spilled forth.

"Gods you're tight." Morax hissed as you clamped down on him, restricting his movement. "Relax your hold, dear. Are you trying to squeeze the life out of me?"

"Wouldn't that be… just perfect?" You teased him against your better judgment.

You cried out as he plunged his cock into you after pulling out almost completely. Raw pleasure coursed through you like a tidal wave, drowning out everything except the sound of his cock moving inside you. The sensations had you bursting at the seams. Your mind was completely blank, your lips parted, and your skin flushed.

"Careful dear. I would hate to accidentally kill you whilst trying to bring you to a finish." He whispered against your ear after calming down a bit.

"That doesn't sound… too bad." You managed to say between moans. "For someone like me."

"You would like that, wouldn't you?" He grunts as he increases his pace even more. "To die while impaled on my cock, with my cum filling your womb? Your god would surely scowl in disgust if he knew how willingly, how well you're taking me right now, wouldn't he?"

"Morax… too fast…" You sobbed, fingernails digging into his arm.

"Is this already too much for you?" He cooed, reaching down to rub your clit. Despite his words, he slowed down to a gentler pace. "I expected more from you."

You glared at him, but the tears in your eyes only made you look all the more pathetic. "Even my god was more gentle when he—"

"If you want gentle, then I will show you gentle. There's no need to compare me to someone who's no longer able to fill this needy cunt of yours."

"Who's fault is that?" You seethed.

"Mine." He replied, stroking your cheek tenderly. "So allow me…"

This time, Morax held true to his word. Every thrust was painfully gentle and slow, so slow that you began rolling your hips upward to encourage him to go faster.

"F-faster…" You whined. "Please…"

With a barely noticeable curl at the corner of his lips, Morax quickened his place. His breathing also grew shallow again. You moaned softly, the pitch and urgency of each sound escaping your lips rose as he pushed you closer and closer towards the edge.

"I'm almost there…"

"Come for me, darling. I'll be right behind you." He coaxed you in such a tender voice.

You tensed, body convulsing as your walls clamped down on him relentlessly. Your arms wrapped around his neck as your thighs tightened around his waist. The thread inside you snapped, releasing a surge of warmth that gushed around his cock. He let out a groan, also reaching his climax. Thick, hot cum shot deep into your womb, painting your insides and mixing together with your own release, finally trickling out from where the two of you were still joined. He tugged himself free of your suffocating warmth, releasing a flood of cum. Even now, your walls were still fluttering, desperately clenching onto nothing. He almost had the urge to stuff his cock back inside out of pity.

"Rest now. Leave the rest to me."

Morax pulled you into his chest, arms wrapping around you from behind. The sound of his steadying breath drifted into your ear, lulling your tired body to sleep.

"I cannot bring back your beloved god, but I can promise you this. From this day onwards, every god I defeat shall be sealed away instead of slain. This war has resulted in too much grief, too much bloodshed. I too wish for its swift end. Forgive me for the wrongs I am no longer able to undo." He sighed, voice barely audible even though you were laying there right against him.

A drop of saltiness seeped into the silk pillow underneath your head. As a mere human caught in these tumultuous times, you had always known how lucky you were to be born in a village overseen by a merciful god.

The injustice that had plagued you for the past year ever since his death finally drained out of you, tear by tear. So Morax had killed an innocent god. Perhaps he had killed a dozen even. Did he have a choice? He did not call this war into existence. Perhaps there were higher gods even he was a mere pawn to, gods who had set this land ablaze with suffering and strife. He too was simply doing what he could to protect the humans who called his domain home.

The encampment gradually warmed up to you once you put down your burdens. Even Cloud Retainer eventually let go of her urge to 'quash' you when it became clear you no longer had the desire to kill Rex Lapis. The first to notice was Yaksha Bonanus, who you often spoke to about your past. You smiled often and found ways to be helpful within the Millelith camp. You were no adeptus, neither where you brilliant like Guizhong. If you were a great warrior like Xiao and Bonanus, perhaps you'd be helpful in that way. You were only decent with a sword when forced to use one. Tending to wounded soldiers and gathering herbs were tasks you had always been adept at, so you volunteered for that post. It was one of your responsibilities as priestess, before the god you served died. These were now your people and Morax was now your god.

You still refused to call him Rex Lapis, but he did not mind it at all. It turns out, a good many of his close friends still refer to him directly by the name Morax. That was something you would've never expected of the god you previously served. He was a proud god, so proud that you were never permitted to call him by name, despite being his closest confidant.

"Morax." The name tasted familiar, sweet even on your tongue.

It certainly feels different from calling your supposed lover 'My Lord' every time he takes you to bed. You stretch as you get up from Morax's bed. The encampment was always bustling, no matter what time of the day it was. There was always something to do and you were always filled with motivation. Ever since you started getting involved, you realized exactly how purposeless your life had been in the months following the death of your previous god. Morax had not simply spared your life repeatedly. He had saved it. Those memories were bittersweet now, but you were grateful for them. You would always be, for the rest of your life, however long it would be.

Author's Note: This took way too long. Got stuck because my brain kept screaming OOC. Finally ended up with something I liked so here you go. This list is probably going to continue into 2025 at this point. I kinda like having a list of prompts to draw from. Gets my brain worms going. Except when I get stuck of course, like with this one.

[jonivngel]

𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐲 𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐧. (𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞.)

𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨

part 1: sharing is caring; part 2: dinner; part 3: devotion.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲:

"So you made dinner that Friday, set up a table for two, candles, and your favorite silver cutlery, and dressed in a pretty satin dress with a low back. The evening would be a little too perfect considering Suguru wouldn't be there..."

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6,603

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: 18+ ONLY, NSFW! CONTENT, MDNI, infidelity, unprotected sex, cucking (just a lil), polyamory, threesomes, drunk sex, a bit of degradation, praise kink kinda, oral (male on male and male on female), mxmxf sex, mxf penetration, overstimulation, edging, bath sex, kitchen sex, exhibitionism, just overall filth ngl, satosugu is bisexual so gay stuff, fluffy at the end (q up another warning for my sloppy writing lowk)

a/n: hope you enjoy... (part 2 is still my fav but this ain't half as bad ngl). it was supposed to have more plot, but it doesn't because my mind has been reduced to nothing but filth.... my apologies. also sorry for taking so long uni has me dead fr.

𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

The ‘dinners’, as you began calling them, became a regular thing.

Every Friday, like clockwork, Satoru would text Suguru the name of the restaurant and the time at which you were set to meet. Suguru would ask if you were willing to, to which you always said yes. It was seemingly a one-sided arrangement, he wanted Satoru and you wanted him. A messy conundrum that had you stressing about how long it was going to last and what the outcome would be.

Your relationship with Suguru certainly wasn't the same. The atmosphere assumed a lingering tension caused by a passing thought or mention of Satoru, the sweet scent of his skin remaining infused into your bedsheets, your hair, your clothes... He became a ghost, haunting you day and night until you'd meet again and all your worries would disappear with the scalding feeling of his fingertips exploring every dip and bump of your body. He knew how to make sure you wouldn't forget what it felt like to be had by him, to be so helplessly enchanted by pleasure that nothing else mattered.

It made your head muddled with jealousy conflicting with the growing affection for the shared time between the three of you. It was sinful and depraved, the raw need consuming you entirely until you surrendered fully every time you'd spend the night with them. Satoru became a habit. He became someone to you and you were slowly losing the ability to view him as the other.

He wasn't just someone Suguru convinced you to bring to your bed. It showed in little moments, words of endearment, the way your name would drip from his lips like honey. He was sweet to you. He'd look at you with his beautiful tranquil eyes and your skin would set ablaze with a burning need to feel him deeper, to connect, to get lost in him. You'd forget Suguru was even there. It was a thrill, a newfound nuance to the relationship you three shared. Because in moments like that, when Satoru would kiss you and touch you and look at you with pure devotion, you felt like he didn't care only for Suguru, but for you too.

It scared you, though. How intensely you began feeling for him, how he'd appear in your thoughts during a moment of silence while you washed dishes or did laundry, like it was so mundane, just a thing to be thought about. You would catch yourself remembering the way it felt to be under that intense gaze and you'd scold yourself. You shouldn't be thinking about him, you'd tell yourself, Suguru cheated on you with him, why would you think about him like that?

Then you'd get pissed at yourself because you've gone through the motions a thousand times, your thoughts were looping in circles. He isn't the other - he is, though - but why would he be so sweet… - but, but and but. Over and over again, it drove you insane. And you knew it wasn't like that, that Suguru didn't just cheat mindlessly. He loved you both, and you would've been fine with it had it not been for the nagging feeling of what someone else might think if they found out…

That's why you were terrified beyond words when Suguru suggested you meet Satoru alone.

“I'm sorry, honey,” he sighed, holding your face in his hands and kissing you so sweetly, disarming you of all the bitter words on the tip of your tongue, “I have an important meeting this Friday, it can't be helped.”

Your stomach twisted at the thought. You hadn't been alone in the same room with Satoru, let alone slept with him. Was that what Suguru expected to happen? Why couldn't you simply cancel? Then again, you didn't want Satoru to get the message that you didn't enjoy the time he spent with the two of you… Because you did enjoy it. Thoroughly.

“Okay,” you sighed, tugging on his shirt to bring him closer, his heat warming you to your core, “I'll make him dinner, it's the least I can do to apologize for changing plans. Plus he always takes us out.”

Suguru's smile made your heart skip a beat. “That's a beautiful idea. So sweet. Thank you, baby.” He kissed you again and you smiled, glad that he was okay with it. Not only okay, he seemed happy.

So you made dinner that Friday, set up a table for two, candles, and your favorite silver cutlery, and dressed in a pretty satin dress with a low back. The evening was going to be a little too perfect considering Suguru wasn't going to be there. But if the conversation led you to discuss how you've been feeling about the entire situation, the atmosphere would be at ease with the home-cooked candle-lit dinner.

You finished setting everything up about an hour before he arrived and had been on the edge of your seat ever since. The minutes were passing so slowly, your hands fidgeting with the satin pooling in your lap while you checked eagerly on the time every few minutes. You were secretly hoping he'd be a little late so you'd have more time to mentally prepare yourself. Your hopes were not fulfilled, however, because he showed up right on time, the doorbell startling you and making you jump off the couch.

Opening the door you were met with the sight of Satoru dressed in a white shirt and black pants, white hair fluffy and messy just the way you liked it. His eyes peered at you over the rim of his glasses perched on the tip of his nose, taking you in with the same intensity you’ve grown to revel in. He held a beautiful bouquet of deep purple hydrangeas in one hand and a bottle of pricey champagne in the other.

Your stomach fluttered in delightful excitement, “Hi,” you smiled and let him get in through the door, “Welcome, Satoru.”

He smiled back, the sly smile that told you he was having the time of his life, “Hey,” his voice was smooth, husky, a lilting cadence that made your skin tingle with anticipation. He bent down as he handed you the flowers, warm breath tickling past your ear when he pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek. The gentle nature of the action had you wanting to jump out of your skin because it didn't feel nearly enough of what you needed from him. His scent invaded your senses, drowning out all else as you reveled in the sweetness of vanilla and cinnamon you’ve come to love so much.

Then you realized that moments ago you were stressing about him, about this, and yet here he was, and all your mind and body did was crave his touch.

You were in for a rude awakening by the end of the night, it seemed.

“Thank you, ‘Toru…” you blushed and swiftly showed him to the dining room, which was divided from the kitchen only by a long kitchen island. You took the bottle from him to put in some ice and let him take his seat at the head of the table, which was usually Suguru's seat, but that's what he gets for leaving you alone.

“So, how are you, sweetie?” He asked, crossing his long legs and giving you a once-over, eyes as shameless as ever while they drank you in. His smile only seemed to grow wider.

Your heart started beating faster in an instant once you turned around to plate the food, unable to look at the mischievous glint in his eyes as they devoured you entirely. You were aware that cooking this man dinner and dressing in one of your prettiest dresses was a bold move, a calculated one at that. You were just afraid that you'd let his intoxicating energy get the best of you before you even managed to finish your meal.

“I'm doing well,” you sigh, “Suguru pissed me off cus’ he said he couldn't be with us tonight. Other than that I'm great.”

Satoru chuckled, his chair scraping the floor slightly when he stood up and made his way over to you. “It's okay,” he muttered, appearing next to you, paying close attention to the way your fingers worked skillfully as they arranged the food, “I'll appreciate you for the both of us tonight.”

Was he even aware of the way his words sounded? They made your cheeks flush with the deepest crimson color, your fingers cramping up suddenly and almost making you mess up the food arrangement.

You let out a breathy laugh, nervous with him standing so close and watching you prepare the food so intently, “Thank you, but don't feel like you have to make up for it on his behalf.”

He hummed in response, “Should I take the salad and champagne to the table?”

You nodded and thanked him, finishing up the plates and carrying them to the table as well. He had already opened the bottle of champagne, pouring you a glass and then himself, waiting for you to sit down before he lifted it in cheers.

His smile turned soft and his eyes were full of adoration as your glasses clinked and he said, “Thank you for the dinner.” You could've sworn his cheeks were a tiny bit flushed, he seemed bashful in comparison to all the other times you've seen him, possibly shy because of the genuine act of service you prepared for him.

You smiled, “No problem, sweetheart,” you took a sip of your drink and gestured at the food, “Let's eat before it gets cold. And tell me your honest opinion.”

He nodded eagerly, taking a large bite immediately at your command. His eyes widened and he looked at you like he was about to fall madly in love with you. “This…” he couldn't even finish his sentence, taking another bite like a little child stuffing their mouth full of sweets. He resorted to letting out a stifled groan as he pointed at the food, causing you to laugh at the ridiculous theatrics he was performing to show you how much he liked it.

“Calm down, Satoru, it can't be that good…” you chuckled and took a bite, impressing even yourself at the taste of your dish. “Okay, maybe I outdid myself this time.”

He chuckled, continuing to eat his food as if it was his first meal in a thousand years. It warmed your heart to see him enjoy something you cooked for him and it completely dissipated the tension you felt before he arrived.

You two chatted idly while you finished your food, he brought up how he became a teacher and you brought up your work at a bakery downtown. The matter of jujutsu society and picking sides was understandably a topic too heavy for a friendly dinner, but you found a way to mention you had resigned from the jujutsu world altogether. He didn't dwell on the topic too much, choosing to appreciate the moment of normalcy he was afforded and discuss your recent workplace drama instead. He seemed interested enough in such a mundane topic, perhaps more than that. He was fascinated by it.

“So she was caught with the manager and then he fired the girl who caught them?!” he gawked at you in disbelief, amazed at how messy non-sorcerers could be. The jujutsu world was messy in a different way, everybody was too busy fighting curses to be bothered with such trivialities as who was seeing who. They were also infinitely more skilled at hiding it. The little rendezvous between Satoru, Suguru and you is a case in point.

You explained the rest of the drama while you finished your third glass of champagne, Satoru still being on his second. You switched to a different topic soon enough; time was flying by quickly, and at some point, you had gotten up to wash the dishes while he told you about his favorite bakeries and sweets kiosks.

He got up with you without question, bringing over the remaining plates you couldn't carry, and continued talking, until a comfortable silence fell upon the two of you. You washed the dishes and handed them off to him to dry off and place to the side. His eyes watched you studiously, observing every twitch of your muscle as you worked.

Such a mundane thing it must've been for a sorcerer as great as Satoru Gojo. Washing dishes. It dawned on you that Suguru must've done this on purpose, made you spend time alone with Satoru to get to know him better. In that moment you hated how brilliantly calculated Suguru could be because he was right- being alone with Satoru created space for you to think about him as a person and not just someone to compete with over Suguru.

“What are you thinking about?” He whispered next to your ear and you realized you'd been washing the same dish in silence for about two minutes.

“N-Nothing, sorry…” you muttered, feeling your skin tingle with the sudden proximity of his body.

He hummed, moving your hair gently to the side, exposing your neck to him. He was so close, yet your bodies weren't touching, your entire body contorting with deep yearning just to get a feel of him pressed against you. He chose to tease you instead, his lips ghosting over the curve of your neck, warm breath eliciting goosebumps all over your skin.

“You think Suguru would mind?”

You wanted to fall apart right then, crumble into pieces because you didn't want to stop him. Somehow it felt so wrong to do this without Suguru, but his lips brushing against your neck most tenderly was making your mind fall short of reasons to stop.

“I-I don't know, Satoru-” your words turned into a whiny mewl once he finally kissed you. It was embarrassing how easily he could control your mind with just one kiss. Yet there was no time to dwell on it because he didn’t stop, pressing his lips down your exposed neck and shoulder, giving you loving kisses that had your insides melting.

“You're so pretty,” he muttered, his hands coming to rest on your hips, his body finally pressing up against yours and pinning you against the kitchen counter. “Is this okay?” He asked innocently, fingers tracing the curve of your body, from your hip over the side of your torso and over the neckline of your dress.

“Oh my-” you dropped the dish you were holding in the sink as his hand gently wrapped around your neck and pulled you further into him, your head falling back on his shoulder. He had you caged in place, unable to run or move or resist- at least that's what you told yourself. He had you wrapped around his finger, gasping at every feathery touch over your dress, so light you felt like bursting into tears from the rattling heartbeat in your chest.

“You didn't answer, baby.” He muttered into your skin, words a hushed whisper but fingers getting more bold as they pulled up your dress to reveal your panties and the skin of your abdomen. “Should I touch you more?”

You whimpered and swiftly wrapped your hand around his wrist, guiding his fingers to sink below the waistband of your panties. “Please, ‘Toru-”

“Eager, hm?” He kissed your cheek and ear, making you shudder once his fingers started circling your clit slowly, painfully slow, trying to make you fall further into madness. “Should I just fuck you right here, then?”

You nodded without second thought, the champagne and his fingers both messing with your impulse control until you didn't know how to say no anymore. “Y-Yes, ah- please.” You rocked your hips into his fingers, lips parted in delight as he continues to press his lips to your neck. He was making you fall apart only with his lips and fingers, heavy breaths and whimpers next to your ear making your knees weak for him. He seemed so needy, hips rolling slowly against your ass so you could feel the tightness in his pants, feel how much he wanted you.

“Take your panties off for me, pretty.” He mutters and a sound of his belt unbuckling clinks behind you, but his other hand never leaves your clit as you slide your panties down and let them fall to the floor. You're a whimpering mess, dripping over his fingers and down your thighs, already soaking wet from the tension lingering in the air. The languid, delicate kind of tension that makes your heart beat faster in expectation.

He’s pressed up against the soft flesh of your ass, hard and warm, eager to feel you wrap around him. His hand stops toying with you, guiding his thick tip to slide against your pussy instead. You're half bent over the kitchen sink, holding yourself up with hands on each side of it, your eyes screwed shut. Despite the loud thrum of your own pulse in your head, you can hear the faint gasps of desperation coming from Satoru as his needy hands spread you from behind so he could easily sink into you.

Once he finally does, stretching you so delightfully, you feel like you're about to pass out. He was filling you out completely, your eyes rolling to the back of your head and a groan slipped past your lips.

“F-Fuck-” he mutters and his cock twitches inside of you, sliding so slowly against your insides it made you even more drunk than you already were.

“’Toru-” you whine as he bottoms out, legs quivering from having him nestled so deep.

He starts moving slowly as he pulls you back into his chest, head falling back to its place on his shoulder. “Let me feel you, baby, I just want to feel you, p-please-” he whimpers next to your ear, hips unmoving while he relished in the feeling of your tight pussy swallowing his cock and begging for more. His hands roam over your body, one squeezing your breasts under your dress that he was too impatient to take off, the other coming up to wrap around your throat once more. “So good, baby, ah-”

His hips begin moving languidly, his cock sliding in and out of you so painfully slow that you could feel each and every shape of his thumping veins. It felt intimate, slow, and sweet, something you weren’t used to from Satoru. He was rough and liked to get mean so he could hear you whine and complain. But in that moment he was so lost in you he couldn’t find it in his heart to be mean. You were everything to him in that moment, so beautiful that he had to make love to you as tenderly as he could, show you just how much he liked you. Oh, he didn’t like you- he loved you.

He showed you that with gentle touches and kisses, whispering into your ear about how much he needed you all to himself for once, “S-Suguru can have you any day- ah- any day of the week, I was so happy he’d be away.” His hips crash into your own, making you yelp out at the sudden change in force, “I needed this so bad- f-fuck-” he picks up the pace, the smacking of skin against skin filling the quiet space of the kitchen.

“’Toru…” you whine, feeling him deeper inside of you, your whole body quivering along with your voice, “I-I can’t stand like this-” Your legs and hands were weakening by the second and you couldn’t keep yourself up any longer.

“Sorry, baby, sorry-” he mutters and swiftly picks you up, places you to lay on the kitchen island, and slides back into his place molded deeply into you before you could blink. His hands tugged your dress off and returned to your bare body as you shivered on the cold kitchen counter, groans of delight erupting from deep within his chest at the sight of you laid out for him like a full-course meal.

“T-Toru, Suguru will be-” you gasp as he slams his hips forcefully into yours again, grabbing you by your cheeks to look him in the eyes, a scathing glint flickering to light at the mention of his best friend, “Sorry, I-”

“I don’t give a fuck about him right now,” he spits, lips inches away from yours as he keeps steadily pumping his thick cock into you. His flushed face leans in front of yours, hot breath fanning over your skin, smelling faintly of champagne and mint, “It’s time we get to know each other better, huh?”

You nod, eyes rolling to the back of your head immediately as he starts thumbing circles into your sensitive bulb of nerves, your legs spread as far as they could go while he bullies his cock into you repeatedly. You chant his name, your voice echoing like a prayer through your empty house, Suguru slipping from your mind entirely. You fall apart again and again for him, tears brimming in your eyes as he whines and whimpers your name into your skin. His teeth sink into the soft flesh of your breasts, cock jolting up into your g-spot once you squeak in pain.

“I’m c-close baby, fuuck you feel so good-” he groans, kissing your chest and collarbones, worshiping your body with his hands as they grab and squeeze at every soft part of you, memorizing the feeling by heart.

“’Toru- ah- please, please, please- I need you inside plea-” a loud scream rips your throat and his thrusts become even more merciless than before, your helpless pleas creating a savage monster out of him. He’s pummeling into you so deep and with such force that he pushes you across the kitchen island, your head dangling off of it and making you even dizzier than you already were from the numerous times you came on his cock.

He chokes out your name as he buries himself inside of you, hips stilling while he fills you up to the brim with his cum, your insides sticky and warm, taking everything he’s got. It felt so heavenly that all you could do was whisper his name over and over again, hands gripping feverishly at the unbuttoned shirt he forgot to take off, pulling him to lay atop of you and warm you with his entire body.

You try to catch your breath, letting your head hang off the counter, eyes fluttering open slowly as you calm down from your high. You almost don’t register the dark silhouette leaning against the wall across the dining room, but your heart almost stops in panic as you realize Suguru got home already.

“S-Sugu-” you try to say and he chuckles at your raspy voice, strained from screaming Satoru’s name for the past thirty minutes.

Satoru is too spent to look up, but he mumbles against your skin, “Tell him we’re not done.”

You lift your head to look at him, inspecting the fluffy white locks of hair sticking to your dewy skin with his face buried into your chest. Surely he wasn’t being serious? You’ve already messed up enough by doing this without Suguru, who now watched you with that dangerous, calculating sparkle in his eyes.

“Satoru-”

“Then I’ll just keep fucking you in front of him.”

He didn’t give you a second to think before pulling out and slamming back into you, the concoction of your messes letting out a dirty squelching sound that make your face heat up with embarrassment at Suguru hearing that. “Let him watch, baby, since he dared leave you alone- hah- with me-”

Suguru’s tie came undone and he draped it over one of the dining chairs, eyes never leaving yours as Satoru kept ramming into you, his fingers gripping your hips so tight they would surely leave your skin bruised for days. Your eyes brimmed with tears once again, guilt swelling up in your chest- but not from letting Satoru do this without your beloved Suguru- it was because you didn’t let him do it sooner.

“Tell Suguru h-how well we got along-” Satoru chuckles and you don’t know whether or not you’re glad that he’s being mean again because it feels so good to be tortured by him.

You whimper and cry out as he fucks you, looking at Suguru who is still standing in the same place, cheeks flushed red from seeing the filthy debauchery unfold right in front of him. Satoru bites your nipple and you squeal, finally finding your voice to say, “W-We got along so well, Sugu-” Another cry rips through your throat and Satoru grins with your other nipple between his teeth, drool pooling in his mouth from the sweet taste of your skin.

Suguru’s words are venomous as they reach your ears in a low grumble laced with lust, “Couldn’t even wait for me to get home, huh? Must’ve gotten along really well-” he chuckles breathily, barely containing himself from pulling out his cock and stuffing it down your throat. He notices the tears falling into your hair with your head being upside down. “Don’t cry, honey, I’m glad.”

“Your sweetheart feels so good ‘n’ tight around my cock, Suguru, you’re missing out-” Satoru chides, feeling your walls flutter desperately around him at the praise. He chuckles, continuing to whisper dirty things about you as if you weren't even there, talking only to Suguru. “Such a good, sweet little pussy, taking me s-so well… She came for me so much, you would’ve loved to see it.”

Suguru looks up at Satoru and you raise your head to see the white-haired man with a grin on his face, your ankles on his shoulders, sweat dripping down from his forehead and down the side of his face. He looks so majestic that it makes you forget Suguru for a second once again, but Suguru’s heavy footsteps tread over to the kitchen island and shift your focus swiftly back to him. He stands next to Satoru, looking between your legs to see the mess you’ve made, eyes darkening with desire.

“Show me.”

Satoru whines while he pulls out of you, stepping back to let Suguru inspect your leaking hole, Satoru’s cum mixed with your slick gushing out of you slowly for him to see. And you knew your lover was just as depraved as you, if not more, but it still caught you by surprise when he bent down to bury his tongue inside of you, making your back arch off the kitchen island when it made contact with your abused clit.

“Sugu- ru- please- n-no-” you choke out, pushing his face back in futile attempts to disconnect his mouth from you. He’s relentless though, lapping up every last drop of your and Satoru’s cum mixed together, groaning in delight as he tastes you two on his tongue.

Satoru is watching it unfold with hazy eyes, spent and unwilling to let himself use his RCT to regain his stamina. It’s way better to watch you cry and beg Suguru to go easy on you, his cock still aching from the overstimulation from your heavenly pussy. “You’re going to break her, Suguru,” he chuckles and finds his pants, deciding it would be best to draw a bath for the three of you while Suguru finished punishing you for- well, for doing exactly what he wanted you to do in the first place.

“You've been bad without me, hmm?” the tone of his words is both scornful and loving, half pouty as he thinks about all the fun you got to have before he got there. And he could see that you were tired, he didn't want to push you too hard. So he pulled back, lightly smacking your clit to see you jump and whimper one last time.

You catch your breath, allowing him to help you sit up and drape his suit jacket over your shoulders. He looks at you with a smug expression, as if he knows he's finally managed to orchestrate your undoing in terms of jealousy and dislike for Satoru. He does, it's evident by the flush on your cheeks and your tired arms that wrap weakly around his neck so you can pull him into a comforting hug. You smell much less like yourself and more like Satoru, vanilla, and cinnamon tangled in your hair and champagne on your breath. He almost understands what it was like for you when it all started.

“You wanna go take a bath with Satoru while I change?” He grins. His eyes fall to your collarbones, peppered with red marks of Satoru's teeth and he chuckles, “He really can't keep doing this…”

You huff and roll your eyes, already pissed at what you're about to say, “Fine,” you mutter, your swollen lips in a pout, “I was wrong. He's nice.”

Suguru's eyes light up in a way you've never seen before, his smile soft and loving, excitement visible on his face for the first time in ages. It makes your heart flutter and your eyes widen in disbelief, mind reeling as it tries to process the beautiful smile on his face that shines through with happiness.

“I'm glad you like him, my love,” he leans in to give you a quick peck before he picks you up and carries you to the bathroom, “Now take a bath, you must be tired.”

You sigh, arms wrapping tightly around his neck while you kiss him on the cheek. “Join us.” you say, “Please?”

He looks at you, his expression still containing that childish excitement you saw earlier. An ache erupted within your chest, a bittersweet feeling at seeing your Suguru smile so brightly. He’d been so melancholic ever since you’ve met him, it worried you if he was just depressed and unable to be helped. Although, it seemed he cared deeply for Satoru and a burden finally fell from his shoulders once he was able to include the white-haired menace back in his life. He was finally content to see you and Satoru getting along. No matter how messy and depraved the method for sorting out your differences was.

Satoru is already in the bath, long legs bent at the knees to be able to fit in it. “You two done talking shit about me behind my back? You know I can hear everything right?”

You stick your tongue out at him before you join him in the bath, splashing him lightly. His nose scrunches up and he splashes you back, making you gasp out in faux shock at his rudeness.

“Stop it, you two…” Suguru grumbles, “You're gonna make a mess.”

You giggle, “You should see the kitchen…”

Satoru huffs, pulling you to lay against him, “You gotta check the pipes, they must be leaking everywher- ah!” he jolts in surprise when you pinch him to shut him up from saying any more embarrassing things.

“Is this how it's gonna be from now on? You two just being unbearable-” Suguru's sarcastic remarks are cut off by both you and Satoru putting all your might into splashing him with as much water as you can. His pants are ruined along with half of his shirt. They stick to his toned body, revealing the outline of his achingly hard cock in his pants.

“Oh, Suguru, you pervert-” Satoru mocks, “You're getting hard just from seeing us together in a bath?”

“Maybe we should put on a show for him again, what do you say?” You turn around to kneel between Satoru's legs, taking his face between your hands. Your lips brush against Satoru's, water splashing as you manage to sit in his lap, tongue darting out to slide against his own in a deep and sensual kiss that has you aching for his cock once again.

Suguru is at a loss of words at how unbelievably sinful the two of you behaved now, his mind reminding him of the times you were too shy to even mention Satoru by name. And now here he was, watching you devour Satoru with just one kiss, your back arching so you could sink further into the warm feeling of his body against your own. It truly was a sight for his sore eyes.

“I-I thought you two were done-” he clears his throat once his voice comes out an octave higher than his usual laid-back tone.

Satoru whimpers as you buck your hips to grind against his cock, head falling back in delight, lips curving into a satisfied grin, “Seems like we’re not.” He chuckles, hands gripping your ass to guide your movements while you kiss and bite his neck to muffle your honeyed whimpers.

“Fucking brats-” Suguru mutters angrily, stripping all of his clothes in a few seconds and stepping into the tub to sit across from Satoru. He can’t believe he’s being excluded and that he’s pouting about it like an ungrateful child.

You glance at him over your shoulder, letting him watch as you wrap your delicate fingers around Satoru’s thick length and guide it back into you- groaning loudly on purpose to see Suguru’s cock jump involuntarily. “You’re so thick, ‘Toru,” you mumble coyly, mouth falling open in pleasure as you start moving up and down his length, “Sugu’ was so mean for leaving me alone… I felt soo empty-”

Before either you or Satoru could react, you’re being ripped away from him, pulled back, and made to stand on all fours in the tub facing Satoru.

“Oh, shit-” Was the last thing you heard Satoru say before Suguru plunged into you without warning, bottoming out immediately.

“You want to be a slut, sweetheart?” He growls next to your ear, malice dripping from his glossy lips, “I’ll show you how sluts should be treated.”

He pulls back his hips, giving you a second to wonder where he went before ramming into you again, and again, and again until you feel like your insides are about to be rearranged. You whine and cry, his name falling from your lips, eyes squeezed shut so you wouldn’t have to look at Satoru who was gazing at you in pure shock and astonishment at what he’d gotten you into.

“Suguru, she’s-” his words are interrupted by Suguru’s fingers being shoved down his throat.

“Hmm, seems like a- hah- good place to shove my cock- fuck- after I’m done with this pussy, i-isn’t it, baby?” He smacks your ass with his free hand while he pounds into you from behind, your walls clenching around him in encouragement.

All you can do is squeal and mewl in response, mind fucked empty with the raw force of Suguru’s savage thrusts. Your arms shake as they hold you up desperately so you don't fall into the water face first, you feel yourself nearing yet another peak, Suguru's cock ravaging you the only thing occupying your thoughts.

Satoru is drooling over Suguru’s fingers, looking at him with those pristine eyes, daring him to do as he promised. And he does. Once you cry out and your legs shake, your walls clenching around him from your orgasm, he pulls away cruelly and pulls Satoru by the hair to fill his mouth up. He whimpers weakly, muscular thighs flexing as he bucks his hips one final time and releases the sticky white spurts down Satoru's throat. He throws his head back and you marvel at the sight of his long hair falling over his broad shoulders, eyes shut tightly and cheeks flushed a dusty pink.

Once he lets Satoru go, the white-haired man gasps for air, swallowing everything Suguru gave him. “Rude.” He mutters, but he's grinning up at Suguru who gives him a scornful look. “You ruined our bath.”

You would've laughed if you weren't so fucking tired from getting used by them like you were their toy. “You two gotta do it without me next week, I deserve a break.” You mutter weakly as you lean your head on Satoru's shoulder, letting his arms wrap around you to keep you steady.

“Why are you acting like you don't enjoy this?” Suguru asks and settles on the opposite side of the tub, sighing out in exhaustion.

You roll your eyes, “I do enjoy it.”

“Then stop complaining.”

You glare at him, “You were complaining about us starting without you a bit ago.”

Satoru snickers, “And you thought we'd be jealous…”

“Whatever.” The dark-haired man huffs and closes his eyes, ignoring you and Satoru entirely.

“Wanna get out of the tub ‘n’ continue without him?” Satoru whispers to you, not caring whether or not Suguru heard him. Which he did.

“Enough.” He growls.

You giggle at him, “You were enjoying the show in the kitchen.”

“You gotta clean that up. Who's idea was it to fuck in the kitchen?”

“I needed my desert,” Satoru shrugs and you roll your eyes.

“You're cleaning it up.”

“Fine.”

The three of you mellow out into a comfortable silence, all three tired from the strenuous activity you've been through that night. Satoru is tracing soft circles into your shoulder, holding you with your face nuzzled into the slope of his neck.

You almost fall asleep when Suguru's voice jolts you awake. “You stayin’ the night?”

Satoru nods, “If you'll let me.”

“Of course.”

You find yourself lying between them on your king-sized bed once you are cleaned up and dressed in your sleepwear, Satoru dressed entirely in Suguru's clothes. It's warm and relaxing, and you think about how nervous you were at the beginning of the night. The warmth of their bodies spreads to your chest and you know in your heart this is the only place you'd want to stay forever.

“I love you two,” you mutter in the dead of night, thinking they're already asleep.

Satoru nuzzles his nose into the back of your neck, arms wrapping around you even tighter, “Love you, too.”

Suguru presses his lips to your forehead in a gentle kiss and you can feel how widely he's smiling, “I love you, too.”

You chuckle giddily as you realize Satoru became your favorite person just as much as Suguru's.

“But you really gotta clean up the kitchen tomorrow morning-”

“Shut uuup-” you and Satoru whine, both pinching Suguru, making him laugh before he gives you both a kiss and says goodnight.

tags: @minzxec @thattbitchwiththehair @tykaii @tojbnuy @ilovesugurugeto69

[zombieplaygrounds]

cw: slightly obsessive yandere! price, afab!f! reader, literally me rambling about a good price breeding. dumbification ??? smut MDNI

Price growls during sex. Not something he does intentionally to make you giggle or anything; but something deep and innate within him as his balls slap on to you. So fat with the desire, the need to breed you, trap you two together with a manifestation of your "love". He never saw himself as a man who wanted a family, hell, he doesn't want a family.

But he wants you. So it becomes all the more tempting to get you plump with his seed, to fuck you until you ooze his sperm and soon the product of your affair shows as a baby in your belly. Something to grab on when he lets you curl into him on sleepy mornings while you were still submissive and dumb from the night before. He'd probably post you up in a pretty little house in a remote location - god forbid you run away with miles of nothing but trees and bears that would kill you.

Oh, but you were too good to him. A total pup for his love, practically could see the hearts in your eyes when you stared up at him like he was a god; chin tucked into his sternum while he gave you his hello hugs.

"Miss me, gorgeous?"

Cheeky bastard, loved your devotion and loyalty. especially in bed, when you were all sweet and kittenish. Probably sat right up on his lap with his cock deep inside of you, kissing your womb while he taunted you with the probability of never pulling out. A thick, creamy ring of your arousal built up around his balls while your clit grinded against his pubic hair.

Your eyes rolled back, hair frazzled and sticky, clinging to your face and body. Your hips seemed to roll in endless waves of pleaded orgasms. And that cruel bastard of a man would do nothing but occasionally buck his hips to snap you out of your blurred greed and delirious loving whispers. Hands clawing down from his hairy pecs to the hairy belly of soft abs and muscles, grown spoilt from your warm meals.

Of course, every man had an end to his patience, Price was no perfect creature. If you took too long to reach your climax it was nothing but a quick flip to switch position. Forceful thrusts making you cry and drool out slurred profanities. He made you vulnerable in the ways he reminded you of your own weakness, so strong, slamming your arms above your head and making your eyes water as they stared into his own.

"Pretty." You would speak in a raspy, weakened voice, and Price would growl, a low guttural noise that came from somewhere much more animalistic than his sound conscious. He'd finally lean down to your level, hovering over you and caging in the cocoon of his own body, gripping onto the roots of your hair with gentle tugs as his lower half made sloppy and eager thrusts, a mind of its own. Couldn't even respond as he panted the sweet scent of your pheromones right from your neck. Even as you were already orgasms in, he had still only just cum. Easing to rest his face between your bare breasts with muffled praises.

"Good girl. M'pretty miss you are, ain't ya?"

[tootiecakes234]

The Nanami brain rot has taken over😭

Here are random Kento Headcanons:

SFW:

You will not pay for a single thing whilst in this man presence and will feel completely insulted if you even THINK about paying yourself.

His nicknames for you: darling, my love, sweetheart, angel, my good girl🤭 and Y/N(only when he’s being stern with you)

Spoils you and I mean spoiled rotten. You have hyper fixations, he completely indulging you in whatever it is. You have a hobby, he’s providing all the supplies you need to fulfill it.

As soon as you start spending nights at his house, his bathroom is fully stocked with everything you might need, he keeps your favorite foods on deck and buys several changes of clothes for you to keep there.

He works and often but any free time he has is spent with you. You are the only reason he ever takes vacation time. He will whisk you away to a tropical island for a week and indulge you both.

He gets so tense from work sometimes and having you work out kinks for him and generally just give him much needed massages is his favorite thing in the whole world.

Nanami also really likes buying outfits for you to wear. And will lay out outfits for you to wear on random days.

If he has the time, he always cooks for you but he really appreciates that reciprocate that and cook for him on days when he doesn’t have the time.

NSFW

This man has 3 vastly different sides to him and bed and it’s really just depends on his mood which one you’re going to get.

You have the adoring Kento who worships your body like you’re a goddess. Kisses & caresses like you’re the finest of china. He has nights when all he cares about is your pleasure and he’ll be between your legs for hours without ever finishing himself.

Then you have the needy starved Kento that ravages you like, simply put, a whore. Will put your down on your hands and knees and fucks your mouth like a cunt. Pulls your hair while fucks into your from behind telling you how filthy and sloppy your cunt in in your ear. This Kento also borders the line of being an exhibitionist.

And the the 3rd kento that LOVES to tease you. Where he touches you all day, kissing your neck and behind your ear but when you get home will act like nothings happened and waits until you beg him to fuck you. The one that brings you to the brink of orgasm over and over but never letting you finish until you start crying. This kento is also borderline exhibitionist.

Not matter what side of his you get tho, afterwards he is right back to being the devoted boyfriend/husband with the immaculate aftercare.

Also think this man is very into anal play so beware of his slipping fingers and toys into no man’s land.

He will offer to bring in toys very early in the sexual relationship because he understand they are an enhancement to your pleasure and he’d never deny you. He also has toys he likes you to use on him as well.

Loves tying your hands together or to the headboard while he has his way with you. Usually uses of his ties to do so.

Anyways…. I can’t stop thinking about him. In my current daydream we are buying our first house together and these are re couple of the Headcanons I’ve imagined so far🤭

Also I didn’t proofread so🥺 don’t be mean.

Kento Nanami Masterlist

[yanfeisty]

⠀⠀⠀꒰͡ ⠀ ִ ♡ kisses headcanons. ׅ ׄ ⠀ ͡꒱

Their way of kissing are so special that it’s more than a simple romantic gesture from first glance, and you should know it as their lover, especially when you are the reason of what makes them special in the first place. This includes Argenti, Blade, Childe and Alhaitham from Honkai Star Rail and Genshin. Content warnings: small mention of death in Blade's part.⠀⠀Have a great time with your husbandos!⠀⠀ ︵ ⠀⠀ ̼

⠀‣ Argenti

How often: Nearly every day, if he doesn’t then he is away. How can he resist the need to embrace you, when his heart beats at a fast pace and he's at a loss for words each time his eyes lay on you, the only way he can communicate is by locking your lips and moving them together. Moreover, since it is his duty as a knight of beauty to make every creature know their true beauty and value, what a better way to show it to you than a kiss, one that makes you feel like the most treasured creature in the cosmos.

Types of kisses: The one that is like a promise. It’s such a typical gesture of him to bow to you with a kneel on the ground and sometimes, a hand on his heart as a sign of his devotion to always be your knight. While his other hand envelopes yours, approaches it to his lips, and delicately brush the back of your hand with his thumb like it is made of glass, before leaving a small peck on it.

The lovey dovey one, where he reaches for your hand but this time he grabs it to pull you close to him, and leaves a trail of kisses from your wrist to your face in a quick pace, you don’t even have time to speak before he reaches your mouth and shush your words. It always catches you off guard because you can’t see his heart skipping a beat whenever he remembers why he loves you so much.

The gentle and most frequent one. His fingers find themselves under your chin, deviating your eyes from whatever you were focusing on to his sparkly light green ones, “May I have this kiss?” He will always ask first the permission like a gentleman, because he would hate to force his love upon you. It’s neither too light nor overly passionate, just enough to make you flustered by the delicacy of his lips.

Kissing in public: He has no problem to do it in public, it became a natural habit of his to kiss you, and there’s nothing that’s going to stop him from it, not even the eyes of other people watching you like they're watching a romantic movie, although you’re being hidden by his voluminous hair. It doesn’t help that he stands out of the crowd with his unique and charming look. However, he’ll understand your discomfort if you tell him. “Forgive me, my love. I do not see the crowd when I’m being mesmerized by your beauty.”

Extra: It’s also the way he holds you, one of his hand holding your face while the other envelopes your waist to get you closer, it feels neither oppressing nor dominating, but comforting like he'll always be with you. He also smells like roses, which adds to the experience, you’ll definitely have his scent on you after being this close to him.

⠀‣ Blade

How often: Rarely, Blade doesn't display much emotion nor does he feel a lot of them, so don't expect to get a lot of affection from him. Though sometimes, when the burden becomes too much to bear and a wave of agitation hits him, he finds some comfort in you. Despair and violence used to be his only solutions to deal with it, but you somehow make him feel a bit better, he is not sure why, but your lips do pacify his illness a little.

Types of kisses: The desperate one, where you can feel all his emotion he puts in it, maybe his lips will taste bitter because of the feeling of revenge or sloppy when he is distressed. It's not perfect but it's no less true. He shouldn't be able to rely on someone this badly and show his moments of weakness, and yet, he is unable remove his lips from yours until he can’t breathe anymore and forgets the pain.

The shut up one. You’re talking too much. This irritates him. He just wants to silence those unnecessary ramblings of yours before he goes crazy. So, he forcefully brings your mouth to his for it to stop moving. “Will you shut up now, or do I need to do it for you?”

Kissing in public: It would be showing his weaker self, you’re the only one allowed to see it. He doesn't like when you try to kiss him, because he would rather not be the subject of teasing from his colleagues, even if he knows it's already the case and he can't stop it. It's so weird for everyone, especially for those who know him to see this cold and scary heart letting someone this close to him, and having his cheeks showing a small hint of embarrassment because of them.

Extra: Kissing his scars, it somehow heals them, not that he feels any physical pain, but when he sees his body full of stitches it reminds him how he should be dead, but you deviate this thought from him to a more pleasant one. His body is like a walking corpse, pale and cold, and yet, by feeling your lips on his brings some... warmth. Feeling life surging through his veins doesn’t feel so bad for once. “Please... Don't stop.”

⠀‣ Childe

How often: Since he's often sent on missions, he makes the most of the time he spends with you. Plenty of kisses you'll receive a kiss as a reminder that his heart will always be with you, no matter the distance.

Types of kisses: The kissing ambush, you’re just so adorable sometimes, he can’t help but squish your face with his palms and peck it without stopping. You’re stucked between his hands who hold you dearly, and you aren’t able to say a word because he’ll cut it off with a kiss. “Haha… Don't look at me like that, love. You're the one being too cute here.”

The eskimo kiss. The freezing cold of Snezhnaya isn't merciful, especially for those who aren't used to it. Childe is always here to warm you up when you need it, and one of his greatest technique is to rub your nose together. The skin contact and his melodious laugh which lets out a hot breath brings heat to your face, and erases completely the cold from your skin.“Perhaps it worked a little too well, your cheeks are burning.”

Kissing in public: He isn't one to be ashamed to show that he loves and cares for his loved ones, and you're no exception. However, when it comes to more 'passionate' kisses compared to the light ones or if you feel shy, he'll always find a good place to hide in when you'll be left alone, and it would be lying to say he doesn't like the risk of getting caught by someone, to the point you can feel that his actions are too bold for the place you’re in.

Extra: When inflicted by minor or deadly injuries, he claims that the only way to heal them is with a kiss, and he won't take any medicine before he gets one. You might be irritated by his stubbornness and childish behavior when he is on the edge of dying, but for him who had plenty of injuries before that his body became indifferent to them, he can’t miss the opportunity to tease you when your face is painted with concern, which honestly melts his heart at the sight of it.

⠀‣ Alhaitham

How often: Alhaitham is more affection than someone might think, just not publicly. It's frequently that you'll share small affectionate moments together, he doesn’t kiss a lot though, he prefers other skin contact like having your body on his or him having a hand on you, it feels relaxing and honestly he can’t think of a better situation than have you close to him.

Types of kisses: The goodnight one. It's regularly that you're reading together, very close to each other. The most comfortable position is when you put your head on his torso, and you both hold each side of the book. And each time, the relaxing atmosphere plus the lullaby made by his heartbeat doesn’t fail to drive you slowly to sleep. When Alhaitham notices it that you fell asleep when you still haven’t turn page, he'll plant a small kiss on the top of your head before stroking it as a way to say goodnight. It’s a habit that he’ll never get tired of.

The one he uses to silence you. Alhaitham doesn't like meaningless noises, he may tolerate your voice more than he does with any person, but not when it says things that are straight up wrong or disturb his peace. Without any warning, he'll pin you against the closest wall. The action makes you stumble over whatever you were saying, it doesn't help that your breathing gets reduced as he approaches. You finally stop trying to when your lips are seal by his before, he leaves you stunned without any words.

The lazy one. Alhaitham likes a comfortable lifestyle, and you can feel it in his kisses. He doesn't do much effort, his hand is loosely holding the back of your head while his lips brush yours gently, and eventually lean into it. “It's not essential work anyway, you can stay here until you regain the energy needed for it”. Always the same excuse for him not move and still keep you in his arms, but it’s always working.

Kissing in public: He doesn't necessarily want to have your relationship become a subject of chatter that is mixed with opinions he didn’t ask for. Not that he cares about what people think, but it can create rumors or even problems that he'll be forced to resolve, and also make him become the center of attention, which isn’t something he desires. He prefers doing it at home because it’s a more comfortable place anyway.

Extra: It's such a weird coincidence that Alhaitham suddenly wants to kiss you each time Kaveh enters the room. Kaveh who's first flustered because he feels like an intruder, and quickly shuts the door. Then he becomes frustrated when he notices that Alhaitham does it purposefully to annoy him, he shouts things like “Oh my God, have some decency and get a room!”, now Alhaitham could riposte by telling him to get his own house first… but honestly he prefers to save his breath when he’s kissing you.

‘𝓣𝐇𝐄 𝓔𝐍𝐃  Please don’t copy/translate and don’t reblog with yand3r3 tags, also if you’re a yand3r3 blog/reblog account, or you’ll be blocked. Besides that, likes/reblogs/comments are appreciated. 

Taglist:⠀@avensuersa <3

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

On Rotting Planks

Part Six of The Pirate!AU. MDNI 18+, CW: some crass language, blood, death, and remnants of the smut from the last chapter. (We finally get back to sea!) ~3.5k words

The rest of the night passes as a blur of whispers and in bursts of stars. Jason doesn't let you rest until the candles have long since burned to the wicks, leaving nothing but stumps of wax.

Your bath was seemingly good for nothing, as he covers your skin in sloppy kisses, makes your body shine with sweat, leaves your thighs, and the bed covered in a mix of his and your releases. You try to lose yourself in him, in desperation.

But it's hard to ignore what's between you when his steady, gentle hands tighten around your thighs. When he crawls up your body to settle his hips against yours.

When he tells you he knows you wanted to get caught. That a city only a day and a half ride from the nearest port could have never really hid you from him for long.

You rake your nails over his back, catching scars, in an almost desperate attempt to get him to stop talking. He doesn't, not until his voice is raw with words of devotion and love and heavy feelings you don't know how to hold in your heart.

He doesn't fuck you into the sheets. He does something you would argue worse. He makes love to you. Over and over until your brain is mush and all that exists is him and the idea that he loves you.

Only then does he kiss your eyelids and entwine your limbs together. Only then does he let you sleep.

You don't wake until sunlight bathes the room in a warm, golden glow of dawn. Your husband snores softly, arm thrown over your waist. His face is relaxed, and he looks so much like he did back when you were first married, hair falling into his eyes and lips slightly parted.

The thought drives you out of bed, almost stumbling over yourself to get dressed. You're lacing your shoes and tugging on your cloak when Jason calls your name.

Your head whips towards him, but he doesn't seem bothered to see you dressed.

He lounges lazily on the bed, eyes half open, "You should wear the pin, treasure."

You hesitate, but it's a simple request. So, you pull the silver rose out of the pocket of your cloak, and fasten it to your hair. You leave the room without another word. You're confused that he lets you do this, that he doesn't offer any sign of resistance.

At least you are until you get to the exit of the inn and an arm drapes itself over your shoulder, "Going somewhere, Sweetheart?"

You shouldn't be as excited to see Roy Harper as you are. You hadn't realized you'd missed his easy-going smile so much, that it almost distracts you from the fact that he's guiding you away from the door and to one of the tables scattered around the inn.

"Harper," You breathe out, eyes darting for the rest of the crew, "I was only– I was going to look for an apothecary." It's the truth, you weren't planning on going far. You had only wanted something to prevent any accidents that may befall from last night.

His hands settle on your shoulders as he guides you to sit down in a chair, the rest of Jason's crew smiling and continuing their conversations without missing a beat.

"No need to worry about that. Just get comfortable, I'll get you your favorite for breakfast," Roy chirps, not acknowledging your attempt to leave at all. You stare after him as he saunters off.

It's disorienting, how they're acting, including you like this is an everyday occurrence. It's like your months away from them never happened. That it's just another morning enjoying food that's not from the ship's galley.

You've hardly gotten to center yourself when the inn falls to hushed whispers. Your eyes trail to stairs as Jason swaggers down into the dining area. He grins when his eyes land on you.

It's not the sight of his fabled dark red tricorn hat that makes your breath catch. It's not even the way his long overcoat seems to sweep across the room that pulls the air from your lungs.

No, it's the sight of red and purple marks bitten into his skin that makes your eyes go wide and your face feel hot. He didn't even attempt to try to hide them. If anything, he looks smug as he settles in the seat next to yours, resting his arm on the back of your hair.

"Jason, your neck," You hiss immediately, looking between his crew and him. They seem to be pointedly ignoring the telltale signs of you mauling their captain last night.

He seems to just grin wider at your embarrassment, "My love, I'd let you leave all the marks you desired on my skin, just so that I may carry you with me."

You laugh, out of pure disbelief, "You cannot be serious."

"It's a pleasure to hear you laugh, treasure, even better to be the cause of it," he says happily and seemingly more interested in playing with the threads of your cloak.

Roy sets down a large tray of food in front of you both before you can argue further, "Eat up, we best be leaving soon if we want to make port before noon."

He's followed by a few staff members, who place more food down around the table.

Jason haphazardly tosses a pouch of coins to the staff, and pushes a tray closer to you, "Enjoy, love."

The crew dig in, and the atmosphere of the inn relaxes for the first time since Jason appeared on the stairs. You eat slowly, too wrapped up in how easy it is to fall back into a rhythm with them.

Teasing, tales, and laughter sound around the table, and Jason's relaxed grin grows with every time you crack a smile at his crew.

You're so distracted by one of Kori's stories that you don't notice how you've fallen into step with the crew as Jason guides you towards the stables. It's not until he offers his hand to help you into your horse that you stop short.

"I wanted– I was supposed to stop somewhere," You start, trying to avoid the reason why you want to stop at the apothecary.

"All the necessities you could need are on the ship, treasure," he drawls, lifting you by your waist despite your protest, "and anything you desire we can find in the next port."

He doesn't give you a chance to argue more as he pulls himself onto his horse, and before you know it, you're on the road towards port, surrounded by Jason and crew.

They don't let you get too wrapped up in your mind, and you have a feeling it's to prevent you from planning any escapes. You're not sure how you could even escape from them, if you wanted to.

Donna has just left you in a fit of giggles, recalling how Jason had reduced a well renowned naval commander to a blubbering mess with just a point of his finger, (You're almost positive it's more fiction than fact) when the smell of the sea and the sounds of the city reach you.

The clear blue of the ocean fills your vision as your traveling party crests the hill. It feels like your heart gets tugged in your chest. You hadn't realized how much you missed the water. How much it had felt like home.

"Beautiful," Jason murmurs, as if it's only for you to hear. You turn to face him, but his gaze is already set on you. He holds your eyes for a long moment, then slowly turns to face the ocean.

You exhale shakily as you follow his lead into the city. He always seems to find a way to make your head spin.

The people mulling about the city have the same hushed awe as the patrons of the inn did. Jason– The Red Hood and his crew of Outlaws are well-known, respected, and feared.

Just the sight of his signature red leaves the crowds parting, leaving a clear route to the docks.

The closer you get to his ship the more eager he seems, you catch him drumming his fingers over the pommel of his sword, and he's off his horse as soon as you get to the docks.

"My horse," You start to ask, swinging your leg to lower yourself to the ground.

"Will be well taken care of by people we trust," he promises, threading his hand with yours to pull you towards the ship.

You let him, but it feels like your world is closing in on you. Your throat tightens, and you come to the stark realization that this is it. There's no way out, nowhere to hide.

Jason leads you right to the familiar sight of his ship, and you stop short when his boot hits the plank. You rip your hand from his, and his head snaps to you.

"I can't," You choke out, hating the panic that catches your voice.

He stares at you for a moment. It only makes your heart pound harder. He reaches for you, and you instinctively squeeze your eyes shut.

You wonder vaguely if he'll haul you over his shoulder again, the same way he dragged you from Gotham to the sea.

He doesn't.

He takes your hand gently and lifts it to his mouth, pressing a slow kiss to your knuckles.

You open your eyes in time to watch him reach into your cloak pocket and remove the shiny ring you've been keeping alongside the hair pins.

You freeze when he slides it onto your finger. "Treasure," he says quietly, "there is nothing to fear from me. From my crew. From my ship. It is yours as much as it is mine."

You are scared. You just don't think he understands of what. It's the fear that it could be perfect again. That it's so easy to believe in him and the family he's found for himself. It's the fear to trust in your marriage– in him again, only for it to all be ripped from you.

You don't know how to tell him, how to make him understand. So you follow his measured steps up the plank, and before you know it, he's shouting orders to haul in the lines, to cast off the dock, and drop the sails.

You stand at the railing the entire time, grip tight around the edge of the ship.

It rotates, who stands watch at your side. But they hover so close that you're sure that they're expecting you to jump.

You have no intention of jumping, not that you don't think you could make the swim, but more that you don't think you'd get very far before someone followed you in.

You watch the port grow smaller and smaller. It feels like something is ending, but the salt, sea air that blows at your skin is almost soothing.

You're pulled out of your thoughts when Artemis presses a telescope in your hands, "We're being followed."

You blink once, then twice, "What?"

She gestures to the ship, flying the colors of the navy off the ship's stern, "They're hardly a danger. A few months ago, they wouldn't have dreamed of–," She cuts herself off, like she's trying to save you the guilt, "You'll be safer below deck."

"Or," Roy says happily, leaning onto the railing at your side, "You can stay and watch us work."

You frown, as far as you're aware, Jason's ship is the fastest on the seas, "Can't we out run them?"

"We could," Artemis agrees, "but the captain is intent on refreshing our enemies' memories."

Roy pats your arm, "He's not called a pirate lord for nothin', Sweetheart."

"That title is ridiculous," your husband mumbles, inserting himself between you and Roy so he can hook his arm around your hip.

"It's good for inspiring fear," Artemis supplies, and you have to agree. Before you know who Red Hood was, the idea of an unbeatable pirate lord did sound foreboding.

Jason hums reluctantly, watching the naval ship grow closer, "Take over the helm, Roy." He turns his focus to you, "I'll escort you to my quarters, treasure."

"I want to stay on deck," You say quickly.

He raises an eyebrow at you, "It could be bloody, my love."

"I know," You tell him, but if you're going to be a part of this, a part of his life, this is a piece you'll have to learn.

He studies you, then gestures to Roy, "Stay with him. Keep a weapon on you."

You nod quickly, and follow Roy to the helm of the ship.

Roy doesn't question you, doesn't push, just cracks lazy jokes as the navy ship gets closer, "Commodore Bullock's been after us for years. Thinks he can get his big promotion this way. I think he's lost more ships to us than the entire navy combined."

The knowledge is reassuring, even as the ship sails parallel to Jason's, even as they shout for him to surrender.

Jason offers the sailors a wicked grin, points his pistol, and shoots. Your eyes go wide when the feathers set in the commodores hat explode into bits and pieces.

You have to stifle your giggles at how red his face gets, how he gestures wildly to Jason. Your giggles fade when the sailors start to grab ropes and swing themselves to the deck of the pirate ship.

None of the crew seems half bothered, and Roy draws his sword with all the rush of someone who just woke up from a long, relaxing nap. He offers you a dagger, but you pull your own, one you keep hidden under your clothes.

He grins at you, and turns to the approaching men. It's almost embarrassing, how easily Jason and his crew disarms and takes down the sailors.

It's like dancing, how they evade slashes of swords and duck under wide swings. They laugh as they trip their opponents, shout to each other how many they've taken out, making bets and teasing without a care.

It's almost fun to watch, until you notice how the men seem to be converging on you and Roy.

You'll be the first to admit, your little training with a knife was months ago, and Ted focused more on showing you how to throw a solid punch.

Roy seems to notice this, too, and he sets himself closer to your side, trading his sword for bullets.

But you don't quite realize how much danger you're in until a sound of wood hitting the railing draws your attention. The Commodore himself walks across the creaking plank, sword drawn and smiles dark and gleeful.

"If it isn't the Captain's whore. Quite a pretty thing. I can see why he abandoned the sea for you" he says, eyes raking over your form.

Roy, for his part, does try to get between you and Bullock. It only takes a wave of the commodore's hand to send a group of men to keep him occupied.

For as sloppy as Bullock seems to be with a sword, his years of experience outweighs yours, and terror grips your throat when he knocks your knife out of your hand.

It all happened too fast. He raises his sword, swings for your chest, and all you see is red.

The dark, telltale red of Jason's coat. He stands steadfast between you and the sword, his fingers wrapped around the blade.

You don't know if you want to cry for yourself, or over the sight of blood dripping down his hand and onto the steel.

"It seems as though the seas have forgotten how I earned my name in my absence. But do not worry, commodore, I will remind you," Jason says lowly, voice flat and full of threats.

The atmosphere on the ship shifts. Any fun and lightheartedness disappears. Silence falls, and Bullock visibly pales, stuttering out nonsense and pleas for mercy. You could only imagine what he sees. How dark Jason's eyes must be.

The commodore tries to pull his sword free, but Jason doesn't budge. A few of the sailors rush to help their commander, and then your world goes dark. Fabric covers your eyes, a bandana thrown over your head, you think, and someone pulls you back.

"You shouldn't have to see this," they murmur, and a steady hand settles on your back. It's the only thing that keeps you tethered.

You might not see what happens. But you hear it. Smell it. Iron permeates in the air. Begging and screams fill space around you.

It's a massacre.

It's evident there's no fight that the sailors can put up. There's no sounds of metal on metal, only the tearing of flesh, the thumps of bodies hitting the wooden deck.

You stay still the entire time, fingers clenched into fists, and sight obscured by the fabric throwing over your head.

Eventually, the screams fade, and are replaced by the sounds of splashes in the water. They're throwing the bodies overboard, you realize.

"Sink their ship, Harper," Jason's low voice makes your head turn. You want to speak, but the words catch in your throat.

"Aye, captain," Roy answers, and the safety of the warm hand against your back leaves.

You lower your head to stare at what you can see, the familiar wood that makes the deck of the ship. And the tips of Jason's shoes, stained with drops of blood. That's not so familiar.

"Can you walk," he asks softly.

You nod, fingers twisting into the fabric of your clothes.

"I'm sorry, my love. I would carry you but," his voice trails off. You appreciate it. You think getting blood on you right now would send you spiraling.

He offers you his hand, carefully holding it out to where you can see it.

It's the hand he didn't use to catch the sword, you notice, and it's surprisingly clean of any blood. You take it, and he squeezes gently, as if he's trying to reassure you.

He carefully leads you away from the helm, off the deck, and to his quarters. He helps you sit at the edge of his bed, "I'll be right back, treasure."

You nearly laugh. You're back where it all started. You hear him rustling in the closet, and then hear a door open and close.

You tug the bandana off your head. The room is empty for the moment, and you start to fidget with the ring on your finger.

You're not alone for long, Jason returns freshly changed and not a drop of red on him.

"Are you hurt," he questions immediately, walking over to kneel at your feet.

You want to laugh again at how familiar this all is. You shake your head instead and reach for his hand, prepared to see a deep, nasty cut from when he caught the sword. You're ready to clean it, to bandage it, to apologize for being a poor fighter.

But when you lift his hand, there's only a fresh scar.

"What–" You breathe out, the shock of seeing his hand nearly completely healed, pulling you out of your dazed state.

He winces, "I wasn't– I haven't told you the whole truth. About what happened to me."

You drop his hand, hurt flashing across your features, "What?"

He starts slowly, avoiding your gaze, "I didn't know how to tell you. Back when– when I was captured, I died."

"Died," You echo, almost hollow.

He nods a little and looks up at you, "Died. The League, the people that brought me back– I don't understand it completely myself, but I– when I'm at sea, my injuries heal. No matter how major, no matter how small, wounds that should be deadly, simply turn to scars."

"What does that mean," You ask weakly.

"Nothing," he says firmly, "it means nothing. It only makes me a better captain. It only lets me protect you better."

You twist the ring in your finger faster. It makes your stomach churn. He jumped in front of you because he can't die on his ship. He threw his life around, risked everything, because there was no risk. Not for him.

You're almost relieved that he was never in any danger. But you can't shake the thought that maybe he wouldn't have done it if there were actually consequences. You know it's unfair, but the idea grows louder by the second.

"I'd like to be alone," You murmur.

His face hardens, like he can see exactly what conclusion you've come to on your face, "Treasure, whatever you're thinking–"

"Please," You don't mean to sound like you're begging, but it slips out nonetheless.

He falters, stares at you, then slowly stands, "Very well, darling. I'll send Kori to check on you."

He hesitates for a moment longer, and then he leaves.

A part of you wants to break down. A part of you wants to cry the same way you did on that wagon. But you don't.

You stare out the porthole, stare at the ring sparking on your finger. Cannons begin to fire, and you watch as the commodores ship begins to sink. And for the first time in a long time, you don't have a plan.

Part Seven