#this is obviously nsfw.. mdni

[aethercoreheart]

sylus taking you to one of those high-end boutique stores with ginormous fitting rooms to buy lingerie and you end up getting freaky in the fitting room... you end up ruining the set you were trying on but he just tosses his credit card at the salesperson and ends up buying the whole pile you had brought to the fitting room plus four more of the set you're currently wearing, the one that got him all excited–WHO SAID THAT

[prosypepper]

a/n: nsfw, cheating (on both parts), fem reader, just thinking about him rn, 18+ mdni!!!

kento “oh he’s just my work husband!!” nanami, who can’t express how much he hates your actual husband. god, he could treat you so much better, and you settled for that lowlife who obviously cheats on you every chance he gets.

nanami loathes to hear about how your weekend was spent alone because your husband was “working late”—an excuse he’d heard every monday since you started working at the same firm as him.

but it’s okay, kento can show you how a real man is supposed to treat you.

it starts off slow—a cup of coffee here and there and the occasional “you look nice today” compliments. then escalates into a cup of coffee every day, “did you do something new with your hair?” kind of compliments, and even going out of his way to buy you lunch on your lunch break (only if you go out to eat with him, of course).

which, somehow, turned into you spending your nights “working late” in kento’s apartment, and soon his bed, getting ravished by the blond man just as he wished.

how did it turn into this, really? you don’t know, and honestly, you don’t care with the way he makes you feel. it was a pleasure you’d never had the opportunity to experience before—your husband was quite lackluster in the sack—and you’d be lying if you said you felt guilty about any of it.

if there was one thing kento appreciated about your husband, it was the fact he never pleasured you, so he got to have it all to himself. the screams you couldn’t stop, the wetness your cunt produced from just a little bit of kissing, your trembling legs along with the small “thank you” he got after you were done—it was all his.

and the next night at the annual company party, when your work husband and real husband meet one another, kento shakes your husband’s hand, secretly thanking him for being so terrible so he could have you all to himself.

[angelicangelz]

husband!ghost x wife!reader

NSFW- mdni- because this was requested!

You knew your husband had quite the history. Obviously he was in the military, a lieutenant nonetheless. Something he swore he’d do until he’d die- most likely out on the field.

He never meant to settle down. He was voted least likely to ever have a life outside the 141. So him telling the force he was getting married was a bigger shock to them than anything they’d experienced out.

He knew from the second he saw you that you’d change him. That he had to change to even get you to be near him. You were nothing if not an his perfect angel. He couldn’t ruin you like he had the others.

So you had never seen that wild, feral side of him. He had always been quite gentle and loving when it came to you. Flowers, holding hands, opening car doors. He got you everything you wanted.

He made love to you, had sex with you. But never did he really fuck you. Not like he used to anyways. You were his angel! His perfect angel didn’t want to be destroyed! Right?

“Want you to fuck me Si” you whisper breathlessly into his ear, and Simon feels the blood rush straight to his cock. “Fuck me like you used to”

Yes, he was surprised. But who was he to deny you? His angel! Only if you were a little more careful with what you wish for!

His touches quickly turned to gropes, squeezing your tits and waist and thighs and ripping your panties off instead of taking the time to slide them down your legs. There’s no time to take off your shirt and unclip your bra! He simply pulls your shirt up and lets your tits spill out of the cups.

The protection he was usually fond of? Forgotten. His fingers slip between your folds as if he had no time to spare. One, two, then three fingers plunging into your wet hole as his thumb rubs quick circles over your clit.

You feel a haze of pleasure well within you. Simon acted so quick, there was no time to adjust or even think. You mindlessly whine when he pulls his fingers out, and nearly choke when he shoves them into your mouth to taste yourself.

“Doin’ so well for me birdie”. “Ya like that? A good girl being treated like the true slut she is?”

You’re embarrassed at how wet it gets you. Your dear husband had never dared to speak to you like this. And though you enjoyed the praise, this was a whole different kind of hot all over.

You can’t even answer him before he shoves his fat cock inside you, his tip hitting your cervix. All you could do was whine and moan and drool around his fingers.

He comes before you do, something unusual but for some reason it only made everything more pleasing. His hot seed spills into you, and he comes so hard and so much it drips past his cock right back out of your pussy. Without warning you come too, back arching off the bed and toes curling.

You always loved your husband. But right now you were convinced you had found some new form of it. And all you could think of was the things you’d lure him into doing to you next.

—

If you have any ideas you can leave behind requests in my inbox! :)

[quimichi]

↳ ❝ [THINGS THEY SAY DURING 'IT'] ¡! ❞ @ - Part 1.

TW: MDNI - NSFW, sexual themes obviously lol

SUMMARY: Title :)

CHARACTERS: Aether Albedo Al-Haitham Ayato Baizhu Capitano Childe Cyno Dainsleif Diluc Dottore Freminet & Gorou x F!Reader

WORD COUNT: 1.044

A/N: idk just a random new idea, watch me get more and more unserious with every character you pass

Aether

❝Agh-...shit...❞ - he holds back his sounds as he moans and curses into his hand

❝ Mh-no, like that, yeah...move like that...good❞ - he bites his lip as his lust drowned eyes stare up at you, holding your thighs tight for stability

❝Slower?...okay❞ - speeds up with a slight laugh, stopping seconds later to slow down again

Albedo

❝This spot? Yeah?...knew it...❞ - it's rare for you to see him smug, but that smirk he will give you when he finds out his guess was right is something else

❝Hold still for me...yes?❞ - he pushes your thighs apart, settling down comfortably between them as he dives in

❝Some interesting sounds you make...❞ - and he will carve them into his mind. When you're away he will remember them, will miss them, miss you and everything about you

Al-Haitham

❝Keep quite...❞ - there's no harshness in his words, just slight desperation as he breaths those words in your ear as he fucks you on the couch in his shared house with Kaveh, while he is asleep in his room

❝Tell me what you want...come on, you can do it. Speak up.❞ - sometimes the way he talks to you is infuriating, like he's talking to a stupid child. It not only embarrasses you when he speaks so teasingly, it makes you angry, frustrated, and maybe a bit turned on

❝If you can't watch your hands i won't watch my teeth.❞ - you tugged on his precious hair, so he can't help but tease you even more as he eats you out

Ayato

❝Mmm...yeah...❞ - he's rather quite, Ayato hums more, right in your ear with such a disgusting smirk because he knows any sound he does will drive you wild

❝Don't overestimate yourself, hm?❞ - he always says the same as you sink down on him. He knows exactly that his tip just puts too much pressure on your cervix. He might tease you, but he doesn't want to hurt you

❝I got you...don't worry, i got you...❞ - while you come down from your high...did he came himself? No, but it's okay. You're his number 1 priority

Baizhu

❝So...warm...❞ - no matter how many times you two have sex, your warmth will always overwhelm him

❝Shh...you don't know who might come in.❞ - he doesn't take many risks but god he can't hold himself back when you help him out in Bubu Pharmacy

❝I'll take care of it...don't worry.❞ - look, he's a doctor, a people pleaser and helper, ofc he only takes care of you and not of himself

Capitano

❝Take it slow, theres no rush.❞ - says the big guy with the prettiest cock and he doesn't even know it

❝Do you need a break? No?...heh...alright then...❞ - proceeds to rearrange your guts

❝What did i tell you?❞ - he means please, tell him please, ask nicely with manners like he taught you

Childe

❝Naww, someones needy huh? It went riiight in, with no problem.❞ - I bet you can practically hear and see the smug look on this abominations face

❝Look baby i don't wanna hurt you, yeah? You need to tell me when i go too hard.❞ - just a little nice check in for him. He wants to make sure you know you are always free to tell him off, he doesn't want to force himself on and in you

❝Good? Hah-ah-...yeah...thought so...❞ - sometimes the smugness will flatter, especially once he's close...you don't know who enjoys it more, him or you

Cyno

❝You hear that?...Thats you...❞ - he pumps his fingers in and out of you, slow and fast, changing pace. But no matter how fast or slow, he absolutely loves when you're as wet as you can get

❝Are you certain that you really want th-! Ouch why'd you slap me-❞ - he always asks the same, over and over again, it's nice that he keeps asking for your consent but at this point it annoys you like...bro you already been between my legs for like 30mins I had enough time thinking about it

❝Where?...ah-quick tell me-❞ - whenever he doesn't wear a condom and realistically...I don't think condoms exist in genshin lol

Dainsleif

❝So desperate...it's almost cute.❞ - he knows it's basically a long distance relationship considering he's almost never there. That's what makes it even "better" for him when you two see each other. He can't help but tease

❝Calm down, we're not in a rush.❞ - basically the first, same vibe, call me lazy lol

❝Still...gh-taking it so well...❞ - uhhh yeah we have a theme here

Diluc

❝You look cold...i could warm you up...❞ - sometimes him being smooth works, sometimes not, and sometimes he just sounds like a cheaper version of himself (Batman)...or sometimes he does what Kaeya says-

❝Where's the 'please'?❞ - he's so well mannered it's scary, so he expects the same for you too. Say please and thank you

❝Maybe if you would've behaved like I told you to, we wouldn't be here right now.❞ - he says it so calm as he fucks you against the cold stone wall behind Angels share in the middle of the night where any drunken idiot could see...or the patrols...that are very much sober (hopefully???)

Dottore

❝Hm? This? Oh, thats just for documentation.❞ - he records your voice...he literally studies your reactions and change in voice.

❝I won't tell you again, hold still.❞ - he isn't scared of tying you up at all so either hold still or be held still

❝...hm...you're too quite...❞ - he literally wants the Tsaritsa to hear like???

Freminet

❝Ngh-h-hey-calm down or else-!❞ - WE LOBE SUB BOYS, I WANNA HEAR YOU SCREAM, WE LOVE SUB BOYS

❝This is...new...yeah...❞ - he's a explorer but he also wants to be explored sksksksksk

❝So-warm-!❞ - uhm...self explanatory. When he enters you it's warm lol

Gorou

❝Wdym I'm in heat AGAIN?!❞ - he can't help but not be horny like?? Have you seen yourself??

❝Agh-...i tried to br gentle but you just-❞ - no self control, smh

❝Right there? See...told you i won't forget.❞ - he's eating you out, and still remembers your most sensitive spots like it's craved in his mind...because it is

[tiredmamaissy]

Sung Jin-woo letting one of his shadows join? Only if it’s Igris. 

🔞mdni🔞

jinwoo x reader x igris

Warnings: nsfw, expletives, smut, threesome, would this be considered necrophilia? I sincerely hope not, anyways—oral, pnv, dom jin, just absolute filth, creampie—although questionable, throatpie, multiple forced orgasms, first persons pov, links attached for some visuals, i just wanna shoutout this tiktok

——

I can’t lie, whenever I watch Igris in action my heart thuds in my chest, hard. It’s just the way he carries himself that makes him seem…so human. But he’s a beast, and he became Jinwoo’s shadow by a split hair. 

It’s no secret that they’re both equally as powerful. 

Sometimes I let myself fantasize for a while. Let myself think that when he looks at me, he’s feeling the same way. That his heart is slamming into his ribs, just like mine—if he even has one. I can’t help but wonder, what’s under that mask? Or rather, 

Who’s under that mask? 

Jinwoo catapults across my field of vision, slamming into the wall of the training arena. Igris stalks towards him, sword at his side and cape flowing behind him. I watch his every move, his every strut. He glances over to me, staring down at me with a predatory gaze, checking on me. Well, that’s what I allow myself to believe, only for a second. I know where his loyalty lies. 

Regardless, my heart’s about to fly out of my fucking chest. 

Within seconds, Jinwoo regains his strength, getting back up to rejoin this… ‘spar’. His aggression is palpable, I can sense it from all the way over here in these four walls tucked behind this safety glass. Only Igris can bring out this side of him—it’s always a fair fight, after all. 

Well, almost. 

I always look away at this point. It always gets bad for Igris. But for some reason, I can’t today. I watch, eyes fixed to the scene unfolding before me. 

Jinwoo slams Igris into the ground, sending a rumble through the earth beneath me. The chair I’m seated in shakes, and I grip the table in front of me. Igris fades into black smoke under Jinwoo’s fist, and his glowing eyes snap up to meet mine, piercing into me with a threatening glare. 

Fuck. 

My core spasms. Suddenly I’m empty, and yearning for Jinwoo to make it better. He stands and walks through the residual mist that was once Igris, toward me. I swallow hard and reign in the ball of muscle trying to break through my ribcage.

His stare never falters, his eyes are anchored to me. I stand as I urge myself to hold it, to dominate it. But it’s too intimidating—he’s too intimidating. I look down, just for a brief second, showing my submission. And when I look back up…

He’s gone. 

I feel a gust of wind and Jinwoo’s voice growls my name behind me, his hot breath misting against my shoulder. I break out into a shiver, and I stumble back into him. He catches me, steadying me with his iron grip on my waist. 

“Jin—” 

“Igris has taken quite an interest in you.”

He cuts me short with a hint of aggression in his voice. My stomach drops. His fingers wander down my hips, to my thighs—under the hem of my skirt. He presses his lips against the shell of my ear. 

“I’m not quite sure if I like that.” 

“Wh-what do you mean?” I whisper, obviously unnerved. I feel his hard bulge press into me, and my pussy floods with heat. 

“I'm his master.” Jinwoo speaks a little too calmly, subtly tugging my skirt up, little by little. “I know his thoughts, his feelings. He takes a particular liking to your—hah, well, everything.” He yanks my skirt the rest of the way up in one swift, harsh move. “I mean, I do know the feeling.” 

What is he even saying? That Igris…feels something for me? I can barely think, much less focus on the words he’s speaking. Not when he’s thumbing at my soaked panty. 

“I didn’t know he could feel anything. He’s a shadow.” I say, breathless. 

“Yes, he is. But he still has his own…urges. Instincts.” He whispers quietly as he tugs my panties down my hips, letting them drop to my ankles. 

“Desires.” 

“R-Right.” I gasp and hold my breath in anticipation and my body tenses. 

He’s going to bend me over this table and fuck me. 

I swear I feel a gush between my legs, and suddenly my face is flush against the wooden table and his feet are kicking apart mine. My panty stretches between my ankles and he snakes his fingers around my throat. 

“Igris.” He summons his best shadow in a thick, dark voice, and Igris fabricates from a black mist in front of me, as if he didn’t just disappear. “Isn’t that right?” 

I look up from the table, only to be met by a suit of armor and his piercing gaze spearing down through me. Shit. He can see me…like this. With my panties at my ankles, bent over a piece of furniture. 

How embarrassing. 

I feel Jinwoo fiddle single handedly with the buckle of his belt, and then the button on his pants. His other hand maintains its searing grip on my throat and jaw, forcing me to meet Igris’s quiet gaze. I struggle to breathe and my eyes threaten to leak. 

My heart is going to explode. 

“See? He didn’t even respond. He has total control over himself.” His voice lowers into a whisper next to my face and I hear his zipper. “He actually wants to fuck you.” 

What? He—what? My eyes bulge wider, if it’s even possible, and I feel his cock notch at my slick opening.

So what, he’s forcing him to watch us? To teach him some sick lesson? 

Jinwoo must sense my unease, and he loosens his grip on my jaw and my head slumps back down to the table. But I’m still staring into the void of Igris’s eyes. He remains unmoving, eerily still in his stance with his sword sheathed on his back. 

“Caalm.” He draws out the word, letting his fingers just barely skate along the length of my spine.

My back arches and I roll onto the tips of my toes to present my pussy to him. Pathetic. I almost hate how wet and ripe I am for him. He hasn’t even looked me in the eye yet. 

“We’re not doing anything you don’t want.” Jin-woo’s hand trails up to grip my throat once more, and he hunches over me until his lips are next to my ear again. 

“Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” 

Jin-woo breaches me with exigency, in one hard thrust of his hips. I let out a whimper and try to stay on my toes as I frantically adjust to his thick cock inside me. 

“I see the way you look at him.” He growls as he presses a harsh kiss onto my jaw. 

He knows. And he’s teaching me a lesson, too. 

“I…I don’t.” I can’t find my voice to tell my lie, especially when I’m doing it now—staring at Igris while his master is inside me. 

Jin-woo lets out a low, wicked chuckle, and his hand tightens on my throat. Igris moves just a millimeter, as if he were about to let himself react to his master's slender fingers wrapped around my neck. 

But he holds himself firm, head ever so slightly tilted down as he takes in the sight beneath him. The sight of my quivering, glossy eyes peering up at him, and my flushed, swollen lips glistening with a layer of spit. 

“Careful, Igris.” Jinwoo warns his subordinate. “We’re not in the arena anymore. You might hurt her if you retaliate here.” He unleashes me from his grip, allowing me to take an unobstructed breath. 

“He’s not a fan of my hand around your throat.” Jin-woo whispers into my ear, and pulls out of me suddenly, leaving me empty and aching. 

“I won’t hurt her. She’s mine, remember?” Jinwoo speaks nonchalantly, as if he were stating a fact. Reassuring Igris, yet at the same time reminding him that I’m his. I can sense Igris tense—he feels like a ball of kinetic energy, ready to burst. 

Jinwoo’s cock prods at me again, and I ready myself for the impact of his thrust. I know it’s going to be brutal. He slams into me with a ruthless smack, making the table beneath me topple onto two legs. My fingers grip onto its corners as I bite my cheek to stifle the moan threatening to rip from my throat. 

“Mine to fuck.” Jin-woo growls, and there’s a possessive tone to his voice. He wraps my hair around his fist and yanks my head back. Now I’m forced to stare directly at him. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” 

That damn question again. He wants me to say it to his face. To make it clear that he owns me and my pussy.

“Yes.” I just barely whisper and feel him ram into me again. “Fuck!” 

Igris takes a step toward me, his stare trained down on me. He’s so close to me now, and I’m eye level with his armored crotch. Blood rushes to my face and Jinwoo hisses behind me. 

“Soon.” Jinwoo snaps, using the grip he has on my hair to hold me firm as he immediately sets a relentless pace, fucking into me with a vengeance.

“Soon? W-what’s ha-ppening soon?” My voice bounces from his incessant thrusts, and I’m so fucking overwhelmed. 

“Igris wants his turn.” Jinwoo growls. 

His…turn?

My heart lunges out my chest, and I’m pushed closer towards the edge. The image of Igris actually fucking me is almost too much to handle. If he were to fuck me…oh god. I’m going to cum from just the thought. 

“Jinwoo, wait. I—” I moan softly as my legs tremble and my pussy grips his cock. Fuck, I’m going to come already. And Igris is going to watch it happen. “Please, s-slower—or, or, I’m going to—haah—gonna!” 

“Yeah? Already?” He huffs, letting his hips snap into me repeatedly, fucking me like he’s angry with me. “Just from the mere thought of my shadow fucking your needy little pussy?”

“N-No!” I deny the truth through a tiny, pathetic cry, fixating on the sight directly in front of me.

The armor guarding Igris’s most prized possession looks tight. 

“Show her your face.” Jin-woo orders quickly, huffing and puffing as he ruts into me. 

Igris obeys, taking off his helmet and letting it fall to the ground with a clank. I crane my neck to look up at him and I’m met with glowing red eyes.

Hungry, scarred, red eyes, staring down at me like he wants to wreck me.

His hair flows down past his shoulders, a stark white with silver highlights. Christ, he’s more gorgeous than I ever imagined. 

And I'm coming…to his face. 

“Fu-uck.” I whine shakily and watch Igris’s eyes widen and his angular jaw tense. 

“Oh fuck, she’s cumming on my cock, Igris.” Jinwoo grunts and fucks me through every spasm that ripples through me. I writhe and squirm underneath his grip and my eyes fill to the brim with hot tears. “Don’t you wanna feel that?” 

Igris’s gaze snaps to Jinwoo’s, and the answer to that question is written all over his beautiful face. 

“Shadow exchange.” Jinwoo growls under his breath. 

Within moments, Igris fades to black and before me stands the menace himself—the shadow monarch—huge cock in hand with his ominous, glowing eyes shooting freshly sharpened daggers into me. 

Then I feel it. A delicious stretch. My still throbbing cunt desperately tries to adjust to Igris’s fat cock. He’s inside me. He’s really fucking inside me. Fuck, it’s so thick and big that I could cry. I really might fucking cry. 

I let out a wobbly whimper and force myself to keep still, if I move I think I’ll split open. All I can do is peer up into the luminous eyes that look back down at me with contempt, as I beg him to do something. 

“Oh my god. J-Jin. Jinwoo.” I chitter through my teeth and my tears of disbelief finally stain my cheeks. “Jin-woo, he’s really i-inside me.”

“Impressive, mm?” He grunts, breathing heavily. He cups my chin, pads of his fingers sinking into my damp cheeks. He tsks, and a slight smirk tugs at his lips. “I want to be inside you too, darling.” 

Jinwoo drives his thumb and pointer finger into my jaw bone, forcing my mouth open. He gives himself a few sloppy strokes before swiping his swollen tip on my lips as if it were lipstick, coating them in my own cum. 

“Tongue.” He demands through a breathless groan, and my tongue instinctively darts out, tasting myself on him. 

I’m sweet. 

“That’s my good girl.” Jin-woo grins, his thumb rubbing my cheek tenderly like some sort of twisted praise.

His attention turns to his second in command, and he takes in the sight of him mounted to me. His cock twitches against my tongue, and my mouth reflexively closes around his mushroomy head. 

“Hnng—she’s incredible, isn’t she?” Jinwoo sounds so smug, and for the first time, I hear Igris grunt. “Fuck her good, Igris.” 

The force of his first thrust litters my vision with stars, and it pushes me further down onto Jinwoo’s cock all at once. Jinwoo takes an intentional breath to stifle a groan and begins balling my hair into his fist. 

My clit definitely has its own fucking heartbeat. 

Igris begins thrusting in and out of me like a starved man, shoving himself as deep as my tiny body will allow him. His movements are incessant, laced with desperation. Like he’s been waiting—wanting to do this for a long, long time. He’s fucking into me like he’s never fucked a pussy in his life and the thought of that likely being the truth is making this even hotter. 

“Shit, I don’t even need to fuck your throat.” Jinwoo huffs with a smile and stands still, proving his point. “He’s fucking you so hard that your throat is riding my cock.”

Tears stream down my face and my head feels like it’s full of cotton. Am I even breathing? I test it out and hear a gurgling noise that I can only assume came from  me. Jinwoo pulls out of me, holding my head in the air and I hear myself heave a loud breath. 

“Don’t pass out on us, sweetheart.” Jinwoo’s dark voice echoes and I feel him tap my cheek a few times with his cock. “Come on, you can take us both. Right?”

He slowly sinks his cock down my throat again, inch by inch. I gag and my eyes water, because while he’s doing that, Igris is ramming him into the back of my throat repeatedly. 

It’s all too much. 

I shake my head and tap Jin’s thigh, and he yanks out of me and I gasp for air. He strokes himself fast, with his hips thrusted into the air and his core flexed. He groans low and long, watching me. Watching us.

“Make her cum.” He speaks quickly, stroking himself harder. Igris pounds into me at a frightening rate and I feel the coil in my core suddenly snap. I let out a filthy moan, loud and languid, from the back of my fucked out throat. “She’s gonna come, Igris.” 

I am. I fucking am. 

“I’m—I’m cummi—”

Jinwoo stuffs his cock back down my throat with an urgency, hunching over me and fucking my throat like it’s a pussy. His hand snakes down my belly, and his finger barely swipes my pulsing clit. His ghost touch sends me over the edge and I cum so. fucking. hard. My pussy throbs so bad that Igris groans like a dying man and ruts me harder. 

“Oh fuck, baby. Yes.” Jinwoo moans, giving me one brutal thrust before emptying himself down my throat.

He grunts from the bottom of his stomach and he holds me for what feels like an eternity on his pulsating cock before tugging me off of him. I cough and sputter, swallowing between sorry attempts at taking a breath. 

“Granted.” Jinwoo catches his own breath, and I can’t even speak to ask him what he’s allowing Igris to do to me now. He leans down, caressing my face and brushing my sweaty hair away from my pleading eyes. He plants a tender kiss on my ear and as he pulls away he whispers to me.

“Igris wants permission to breed you. That’s okay, right darling?”

Jin-woo takes a step back and I call for him with my hoarse voice. But he only grins and uses his stealth to fade into thin air, seemingly leaving me alone with the knight commander Igris—the blood red. I feel his metal arm wrap over my chest and his hand grip my shoulder to gain purchase. 

“I-Igris.” I nervously and directly acknowledge him for the first time in this entire interaction. “Ple-ase…” 

He growls and pulls me off the table and into his hard exterior. My toes cramp from trying to stay on my feet but he’s way too big and I feel myself lifting off the ground. He wraps his other hand around my waist and supports me with ease, fucking me mid-air. I claw at his armour and my legs kick and cross but I’m trapped in his undying grasp. 

“Holy shit…Igris!” I cry out, frantic. “Hold on!”  

Igris’s rhythm goes sloppy, and he’s trying to force as much of himself inside me as he possibly can. He’s trying to kill me, not breed me. A high pitched squeal splits my quivering lips and I kick a little harder—entirely too overwhelmed and overstimulated. 

“T-Too deep! You’re too deep!” My tears stream down my cheeks yet my pummeled pussy weeps for more. 

“You’re okay, my princess.” Igris’s deep voice hurls me into my third orgasm and I go limp in his grip, completely dissolving into the pleasure of his cock filling every possible part of me.

He cums with a gruff shout, tightening his arms around me as he stays inside me, stuffing me with cum until I’m queasy. 

My vision splits and fades to black and his grip on me fades with it. I hear a hushed sound and feel myself falling. I’m about to slam into the floor. I brace for impact in my fizzled brain yet I don’t feel the hard, cold tile. Rather, a warmth envelopes me, cradling me as I blubber and fail to set any breathing pattern, much less a steady one.

“Shh-shh. Breathe. You did so well, baby.” It’s Jinwoo’s voice, cooing at me, and he holds me close to his warm chest. “You were such a good girl for us.” 

[xochosoxo]

husband!gojo ✮| headcannons

gojoxfem!reader

MDNI -> warnings: afab reader (but anyone can read yk), sfw&nsfw, arranged marriage, slight angst, comfort, pet names, flufflufffluff!, cunnilingus, gojo is pussy whipped, fingering, creamycreamycreamiest creampies, reader calls gojo daddy!, tummypushing

a/n: i had a dream abt this with some random guy and when i woke up i was so disappointed :(( LOL angwah heres some quick gojo headcannons bc i truly miss him and im so lonely.

husband!gojo who you married per each family’s request, making your marriage an arranged one.

husband!gojo who hated the idea of being tied down.

husband!gojo who couldnt wait for the ceremony to end, however when he watched you walk down the aisle, looking so innocent, he felt a tug at his heartstrings.

husband!gojo who didnt know what to do when on your honeymoon. he didnt know whether or not to interact with you or to keep his distance like he promised himself. he decides for the latter.

husband!gojo who enjoys coming to work everyday after his honeymoon because his cute little wife always delivers his lunch to him despite not asking you to.

husband!gojo who starts to soften even more when he sees that you wait for him to come home from work. youre usually sleeping on the couch. he gently scoops you up in his arms and takes you to bed.

husband!gojo who sees that you start getting tired of the routine after a while. making his lunches, waiting for him to come home late. you stop delivering his lunches personally, opting to just give it to him before he leaves in the morning. he doesnt see you when he comes home either.

husband!gojo who makes sure to wash up before slipping into bed with you, wrapping his arms around you . he missed you.

husband!gojo who feels you wake the next morning, obviously confused to see his arms around you. he sighs before bringing you closer to his chest.

husband!gojo who whispers apologies and sweet nothings in your ear as you settle yourself into him with suspicion.

he strokes your head as he says. “im sorry. i know you didnt want this marriage either. im sorry that youve been doing all this alone. i promise ill be here for you. just tell me what you need and i will do everything to help you. youve changed me y/n.”

you look at him, with creased eyebrows, obviously still not trusting him fully.

“ill give you time.” husband!gojo sighs as he lets go of you to get ready for work. you still make him lunch that day.

husband!gojo who comes home and doesnt see you on the couch. he understands that he needs to wait for your response but there is a small part of him that is wondering whether or not you have left.

husband!gojo who sighs in relief when he opens the door to your shared bedroom, seeing you all dolled up in a pretty pj set, sitting comfy on the bed.

husband!gojo who smiles when he sees your face brighten in delight. you walk up to him.

husband!gojo who is surprised when you wrap your arms around him and kiss him with your soft lips. he groans into the kiss, regretting the fact the he never kissed you after the wedding.

husband!gojo who melts to your touch as your bring him to the bed. you remove his jacket and tie as your straddle him, kissing him more harshly.

husband!gojo who makes sure youre okay with with what’s going to happen next. he kisses you again when you say yes.

husband!gojo who takes his sweet time with you. stripping you from your garments,leaving you bare infront of him. he sinks his long fingers into your sopping cunt, your head lolling back in pleasure.

husband!gojo who’s eyes roll back when he finally tastes you. youre addcitive. he laps up your juices, swirling his tongue on your clit. you cum twice on your husband’s tongue, his hands holding your legs apart so they wont close. his fingers continues to scissor you until youre screaming.

husband!gojo who fucks you in missionary position, making sure to watch your face as your react to the pleasure hes giving you.

husband!gojo who cums inside of you only to turn that cum into a creamy mess around your pussy as he pounds into you some more. he can feel his creampie dripping out of you and down his balls.

husband!gojo who enjoys how loud youve become. moaning obscenities and calling him daddy. he wants to fuck you till your dumb!

“fuck princess, youre so fucking messy. fuc—nghh..” he tries to speak but your pussy is squeezing him too well he can barely get words out.

“please daddy!! i need—aghh.. i need you! dont stopp—ahh…” you groan as you have your fourth orgasm of night.

husband!gojo who watches hearts form in your eyes when he cums inside of you for the final time. you can feel his warmth trickling into your womb.

husband!gojo who pulls out and watches his loads flood out of you. he presses on your stomach, watching as more cum gushes out of you.

husband!gojo who brings a warm towel to wipe up the cream around your sex. you moan as he does so, still recovering from all of your orgasms.

husband!gojo who wraps you up into his arms once again, praising you for how well you did.

“you did so good love..” he says stroking your back.

husband!gojo who reminds you that he has fallen in love with you and will do anything and everything in his power to make sure that you are comfortable in this marriage with him.

husband!gojo who knows the two of you will be okay when you peck him on the lips and tell him that you love him.

[blood-smiles]

𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 ᛝ

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗗𝗘𝗥𝗘 𝗟𝗔𝗪𝗬𝗘𝗥 𝘅 F! 𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥 . MDNI . NSFW MENTIONS . VERY UNEDITED

A freckled woman scrolled on her phone, her nails clacking against her phone screen gently. Her eyes scanned over a profile,

(Y/N) freaking (L/N).

A loser with little to no followers but somehow in a relationship with the hottest man she had ever seen.

She huffed out her nose, her hand playing with a delicately curled strand of her light brown hair. She clicked on your newest photo.

There you were, with that beautiful man again, he smiled at the camera delicately, the sunlight kissing his sharp features, the crystal of his thin rimmed glasses catching the light in a way that would suit a model.

She scrolled lower, this time the both of you were in some type of snowy place, white all around the both of you, a pretty snowflake on the tip of your nose. That wasn’t what caught her eye, heavens no, someone as boring and.. average as you could never even hold a candle to her.

But, your boyfriend. His pretty pink lips pressed up against your cheek, a soft flush spreading over his pale cheeks, his skin almost as white as the snow around him. She stared at his lips for what felt like hours, she saw how the corners of his mouth quirked up into a little smile, obviously enjoying the moment of tenderness with you.

Roma shut off her phone, throwing it on her bed as she got up, peeling her past boy toy’s hoodie off her body. 

She had seen that you were going out today, you had posted a photo of yourself at a mall. That must be your activity for today.

She went through her closet, her hands moving across different articles of clothing with distinct colors, textures and patterns.

She picked out an off shoulder top and some skin tight bootcut jeans, golden jewelry decorating her soft skin.

Roma looked at herself in the mirror, her makeup was perfect. Alluring, sexy and refined. She smiled a little, running her tongue over her carmine red lips.

The shopping center was filled with people, full but not the point it would feel uncomfortable or stuffy. You latched onto Alejandro’s arm, cheek pressed against his shoulder as the both of you navigated the mall.

He gazed down at you for a moment, he could stare at you until his eyes dried up and he went blind, it wasn’t even a challenge for him, he would do it without a protest as if it was just another day.

He sighed contentedly, this was perfect, the perfect moment with you. He nuzzled against your head, inhaling the scent of your shampoo.

You pointed and awed at different things, whether it was an item of clothing, a book or a cute plushie. The male added each item to his mental list of items he would get you this weekend.

It was all fine, all was well until someone approached you, slightly taller than you, not quite reaching his height though.

“Oh my god! Is that my little (Y/N)?” A sultry voice called out, moving closer to the both of you. 

You furrowed your brows for a moment, arms letting go from your boyfriend to wrap around yourself subconsciously.

You didn’t even notice but someone else did, the man accompanying you did. His eyes narrowed in thought, something was wrong.

..Was it that woman?

“O-Oh.. Hey, Roma!..” You strained a smile, your own hands rubbing your elbow gently.

Roma smiled cunningly, noticing how your body language was closed. How she loved that look on you, that insecurity made her strive.

“And who is this?~” she purred, leaning closer to your partner, licking her lips suggestively, her long eyelashes fluttering.

Holy shit, this was your significant other? How were you even able to pull him? 

Behind thin silver frames, eyes like ruby gems peered down at her, silky hair draping over one shoulder, the slightest intimidating tilt of his head telling her to stay at a distance.

Alejandro was not impressed, his arm curled into the inside your bicep, hugging your arm close to his chest. 

He subtly raised a brow. He hadn’t ever heard of her, but he did see that you scrolled on her page once in a while, although all she ever posted was her body in clothing you can barely consider as decent one.

“Uh. This is Alejandro, my boyfr—“ 

“Husband. I’m her Husband.” Alejandro cut you off sharply, nails gently pressing into your skin.

“..Is that so?” Rome asked, well this was even better! He had done his vows, wouldn’t it be wonderful if he were to break them with your own ‘best friend’?

“You wouldn’t mind if I joined you both would you?” The pretty girl smiled innocently, wedging herself between the two of you, nails indiscreetly raking down his forearm to the back of his hand, her long fingers ghosting over his veins.

“Yes, we would mind.” Alejandro immediately responded, not taking even a moment to think it over, snatching his arm away as if he had been burned by fire. 

You frowned, knowing that this moment would come, Roma always had this habit of being a home wrecker. But it seemed that your partner didn’t even bat an eyelash her way, completely uninterested and repulsed.

He moved to your side, grabbing your hand forcefully and pressing it on his waist, his arm rested on your shoulder.

He glared at Roma with disgust, did she not get the fucking hint? 

The woman was not affected though, so he was a mean one? God, that just made her panties wet.

The three of you walked about, a cycle going on and on, Roma trying to openly flirt with Alejandro, him saying something absolutely awful to her, then clinging on to you. The cycle went on and on.

You were on the verge of tears, this was supposed to be a fun day out with the man you loved but it had been spoiled by your worst enemy.

You had begun to feel that burning sensation in the back of your throat, the corners of your lips beginning to twitch.

“I-I’m going to go to the bathroom, I’ll be right back.” You squeaked out, finally sniffing as you brought your hand up to press against your mouth and nose.

The obsessed man began to chase after you like a lost puppy following its master, however he was stopped as a certain flirtatious woman appeared, hugging his mid section, full breasts pressed against his back.

If he had a knife with him right now, he would have impelled it right between her eyes.

He almost bashed her head into the wall next to him as he realized that she had no bra on, feeling the prick of her nipples against his lower back.

“Let go of me you insolent bitch.” He snarled, elbowing her in the side roughly, trying not to make a scene in public.

She giggled, as if not having heard him. Holding her hands up in mock surrender. Was he like this in bed too? Oh how she couldn’t wait until she had him under the sheets.

You wiped your tears, knees hugged against your chest as you hiccuped tears out. 

This was not fair, just when you had something going for you, that woman had to swoop in and ruin it for you.

She had everything always, ever since the two of you were girls she had always been the better one, she had developed early and like a beautiful blooming flower, you still didn’t even know if you had developed at your big age.

You flinched as you heard a soft knock on your stall door, the soft but deep voice of your boyfriend softly speaking to you.

“Sweetheart.. I’m sorry this happened, I understand why you’re upset. I..I am trying my best to keep your friend in check, but I know it’s hard for you to see her hitting on me. It’s frankly irritating me too. Can you please open the door?” 

You gently pushed the stall door open, wiping your eyes with your sleeve, not waiting a minute more, you ran into his arms, hugging him tightly.

Alejandro sighed softly, wrapping his arms tightly around you, “Awh.. poor baby..” He cooed, gently smoothing down your hair and placing a chaste kiss on the crown of your head.

His hands found your face, gently cupping his hands around your cheeks as he raised your head with them. His thumbs gently brushing against the drying tear streaks along your apple of your cheeks.

“Look at me.” He whispered lovingly, tilting your head up to meet his eyes. 

“I love you so much. You know that. I love you so damn much I wouldn’t think twice about burning this place down to the ground.” He offered a sweet smile, something only reserved for you.

Your hands came up to cup over his own that were gently holding your face, wrapping around his bigger ones.

“I have never seen you jealous. I don’t want you to be, that’s my job. Believe me that I would never, never ever in a lifetime betray you with anyone, not even if I was dying.” 

His hands dragged yours down, to wrap around his waist. 

“I am yours.” He quietly uttered, only for your ears to hear.

“My body is yours.” 

“All yours.” He whispered, dragging your hands lower to his hips “This is yours.”

Then shifting them higher to his chest, closing your hands over his pectorals. “This is yours.”

Finally, he put your hands over his heart, his heartbeat pounding under your hand firmly, steady, controlled, at ease. 

“And most importantly, my heart is yours.” He said louder, closing his eyes for a moment, a soft blush reddening his cheekbones.

His arms embraced you again, pressing you so hard against his own body you might think he was trying to mold your bodies into one.

“Let’s go home, okay?” He interlaced his fingers with yours, gently pulling you out of the bathroom and into the corridor.

He glanced down at you, gently bumping his hip closer to yours, you were a sensitive little thing, now he knew that. 

He thought all his rivals had been eliminated, however a slimy worm had slipped between his fingers. 

Alejandro needed a new method of extermination.

He had found a shiny red axe under a bed, brand new and gleaming under the light ominously. 

Now Alejandro has a new Roma shaped target to try out too.

@madam8 Hey!!! I saw your ask and wanted to answer it so here you go!!! It’s brief but I hope I wrote your ask in an okay way!!

[elliewill]

takin' what's not yours.

ALMOST LOVERS. so close, but not quite. ellie sends you a note that might rekindle what you nearly had.

word count: 4.9k warnings: nsfw mdni, infidelity, secretive behavior, pussy-eating, strapon r!receiving, messy tribbing, vague description of squirting tags: ex-bestfriends with benefits. long term homoerotic secret-third-thing. forbidden. a playful fuck born of yearning.

ELLIE HAD BEEN looking down at her third mixed drink when her stomach lurched at the thought of having to finish it. She never liked vodka. She wasn’t sure why she even chose it to begin with.

“I missed you,” Ellie said, setting her drink down on her coffee table, fiddling with the coaster her drink sat on. 

It was a childish thing to say. Childish, naïve, maybe even teetering on reckless. Ellie couldn’t help herself; it was nothing she hadn’t said before, although circumstances now would imply heavier consequences. 

You returned to an acquaintance of Ellie’s. A quiet awareness of each other, clearing paths to avoid regrettable collision. You repelled each other’s pull to orbit with nothing but sheer will and an intense fear of embarrassment.

An acquaintance, sure. But what did that mean when you’ve known the exact way in which the lines of Ellie’s neck join her collarbones, her shoulders? When Ellie had etched in her mind the way your silhouette takes its shape against the natural light while you’re sound asleep, nothing but a beautifully sun-drenched figure? 

It didn’t mean much at all, apparently. Her sheets have always held your scent — but it’d been six months too long since you’d been in her sheets anyway. Although that side of the bed wasn’t yours. And never had been. In fact, it was someone else’s now.

Still, you were no stranger. But Ellie had been bolder. And she’d been responsible for far more reckless things. 

So have you.

C’mon. Say it.

“I… missed you too.” 

The words ran from your mouth in a long breath; you were unsure whether the confession was intentional or by accident, but the words hung in the air now. She heard it. And you wrung your hands a bit, trying your best to bluff, still uncertain of what game she sought to play. 

She wouldn’t let you catch her eyes, and whether that choice of hers was sheepish or cocky, you couldn’t tell.

It would be too brave of you, too bold, to express what you’d really thought. Right? Wasn’t it? 

A swirling nostalgia settled in your stomach, and you played with the idea of drinking its temptation in full. Among the inside jokes stashed in between the couch cushions you sat on, you could probably still find one or two popcorn kernels lodged in there, too.

Could you maybe eat like a normal person? The movie’s not that scary, El.

Ha. Pshhh, I’m not scared. I’m just saving those for later. Obviously.

This was just a friendly, strictly-platonic get-together for two, just as you had done so many times before. You and your best friend had always been tightly knit – sewn, if you were being honest – until seams all but unraveled just a few months ago. You both found new ways to occupy your time, new hands to hold, new lips to kiss. More time to make for someone else.

And yet, that corny envelope and handwritten note still somehow slipped underneath your door earlier that day. Come over for some drinks? If you want. Definitely don’t have to if you don’t want to. Dina’s at Jesse’s for the night, if that means anything.

If that means anything.

“It’s okay that you’re with her, by the way." 

Attempting to save both you and herself from the silence, Ellie’s heart had spoken through gritted teeth, although her lips made sure the words rang polite. A small sigh of relief escaped her lips when she realized she wouldn’t have to hear you backtrack.

She peeled the coaster out from beneath her drink and leaned over to grab your third drink, watching the condensation pool beneath the empty glass of ice. You swallowed the words as hard as you tried to untangle them. And the thought of Dina caught and hung itself like an anchor in your stomach. 

Dina was good for Ellie. And to save face, you’ve mustered the courage to say that your new lover was good for you, too. No matter the words exchanged in quiet – those were lovers’ quarrels and you always made up. The nights spent alone meant nothing, that was just how she coped. And forget the comments, they were funny! Even you laughed. Right? This was good. Why wouldn’t it be okay? Of course, it was okay. You and Ellie had only ever been friends. Or something like that.

“Whew!” You sarcastically pretended to wipe away sweat above your brow. After pressing your lips together in an attempt to conceal a smirk, you continued, “Fuck, I’m so relieved I have the Ellie stamp-of-approval. God, what would I have done without it?”

“Oh, shut up," Ellie laughed and rolled her hazel-green eyes at you, lips parting to reveal a crooked smile. Just a playful nudge at your arm with her freckled nose all wrinkled, and a flame ripped across your chest and crept toward your neck. "I was just being nice."

You broke the ice – the way you wanted it to be broken. Lighthearted, good-natured, casual. Maybe there was a twinge of something else – and of course there was, there’d always been something else  –  something sweet and tender and so poorly developed and fragile that maybe it was best that it never touched the surface. Although, maybe now, buzzed and lacking inhibition, it didn’t seem so bad to let it breathe.

“Okay, and? So was I.” You nudged her back, the nostalgia feeling bittersweet and overdue. “I can still kick your ass, y’know.”

“You wanna bet?” Ellie’s eyebrows perked up at you as she jokingly raised her fists, cartoonishly winding up a punch. Frequently, you used to find yourself at the receiving end of Ellie’s goofy shadowboxing. Few others have had the privilege of being her victim. “Put ‘em up.”

“Careful, nerd. Might hurt yourself,” you replied, feigning a lack of amusement. 

You slapped her lazy fist downward and something reeled inside Ellie’s gut. A knot formed in her stomach, being reminded of how long it’s been since you’ve touched her hands. But the inner corners of her mouth creased into a bashful smile anyway. She had finally let you catch her eyes. And for a moment, you forgot the circumstances. It seemed as though Ellie did, too.

“Do you ever miss this?”

Ellie’s gaze lingered. Maybe just a bit too long. Heat tore across your ears, and you tried your best to ignore the burn.

  “Miss what? Being challenged to kick your ass?” you defused. This was supposed to be lighthearted, casual… harmless. It was harmless. 

“Ha-haaa. Very funny.” You caught an eye-roll from the Savage Starlight card collector. “Y’know what I meant.”

“Being friends?”

“I mean, yeah, sure. Something like that,” Ellie uttered, unsure but settling for what left her lips. She shrugged, shy eyes downcast toward her fingers.

“I do miss it, yeah,” you admitted. Ellie struggled to contain her buzz at your confession. You returned a shrug, swallowing the urge to place blame. It had never been anyone’s fault. You had simply grown apart – friends do that sometimes, don’t they? 

“Don’t know why it’s been so long. Just… busy I guess,” Ellie muttered, almost embarrassedly. She was the one who stopped calling, she’s sure. Patrols were just…coincidentally reassigned, too. To make things less awkward between you both, obviously.

And busy had a name. You didn’t feel like your Busy was worth mentioning. But for Ellie, it was always Dina. 

Her name hung in your mouth and Ellie's eyes softened, a quiet understanding passing between the two of you.

“So…” you sighed, debating on continuing. “How are things with Dina?”

“It’s been… really great. She’s great.” Ellie compulsively finished the rest of her drink to avoid elaborating further. It had been proving difficult trying to remind herself that when it’s good, it’s great with Dina – and that it was something worth waiting it out for. And mind often wandered so far as to ask whether it had to be this way at all.

Relationships don’t always need sex for it to survive, right? What are the odds of sex life flatlining shortly after making it official? Was it just her libido? Perhaps lesbian bed-death, or something. People grow out of it, the freezing-out thaws, and all that, she guessed. But the guilt in Ellie’s chest burned up the words that never left her mouth. She hoped that with each breath thereafter, smoke wouldn’t curl out from between her lips.

“But… she doesn’t find your corny puns funny either?”

“Well, I know it breaks your heart, but she does, in fact, find my puns funny,” Ellie lectured in between laughter, with arms crossed and her warm buzz to blame for the half-lidded gaze.

“She’s still in the honeymoon phase, huh?” The sarcasm threaded your motion, slowly nodding at Ellie, hoping to win another laugh from her.

“I dunno. It’s just not the same y’know?” 

You tensed. You brought your hands down to your lap when you began biting the inside of your cheek. Of course you knew.

“It’s not the same as what?” 

You attempted to jump ship anyway. Lest you reveal something you didn’t want Ellie to know.

“Like how we used to be.”

“As friends?” 

Or something like that, right?

“I mean, friends don’t really kiss friends.”

Right.

The urge to bristle at the comment was hard to fight. You weren’t the one to have kissed her first; she started it back then. But the guilt slithered into your gut and gnawed at you, knowing that you always wished you had kissed her first, anyway.

“Sometimes they do. And maybe it’s that simple,” you said a little too defensively, knowing how Dina and Ellie got together. You didn’t mean for it to come out so brash, but you blamed it on the alcohol crippling your self-awareness and its accompanying filter.

“I mean – c’mon – don’t you wanna talk about it?” Ellie quibbled. “Or would you rather keep pretending that nothing ever happened?”

“Nothing did happen, Ellie.”

You prayed that the next words out of Ellie’s mouth wouldn’t be “Friends don’t fuck friends, either.” Because if they had been, you’d have to spend the next few minutes waiting for the hungry ache between your legs to subside; you know that your nameless Busy could never fuck you the way Ellie did.

“We both know that’s not true,” Ellie teased and leaned in toward you, holding back a scoff. You would’ve called it a laugh if you had been sober.

“Hooking up never meant anything, El. We were just friends, and you’re with Dina now. Don’t fuck this up for yourself,” you chided.

There was still time to leave. To walk away from whatever hot, tempting mess was awaiting you on Ellie’s couch. It was an old dance, a familiar one, whose steps had been memorized by your soles. 

It started with something harmless. Innocent touches. Friendly ones. Then, a peck. Something like kisses littered along a collarbone. Until, eventually, legs were hoisted over shoulders, faces buried in between thighs and hands with a mean grip on hair. 

It was inconsequential fun back then. It was forbidden now. And for some reason, the thought of getting fucked into a bed by Ellie, who didn’t belong to you, made your cunt slick.

“Did you know why I kissed you back then?” Ellie’s voice was soft, quiet. But there was a challenge there. Her words dripped with a dare.

“Cause you had a big, fat crush?” You leaned in the way she did, taunting her with a drunken smirk. Your faces were only inches from each other’s now, the vodka on her breath strong and the mutual desperation stronger.

“What if I said that I still do?” 

Ellie’s eyes flicked between your lips and your eyes, clearly distracted by a twinge between her thighs. When was the last time your mouths have been so close? She swore that her fingertips could recall the hills and valleys of your figure. Maybe she could try tracing them along your skin again, just to test herself. Just to say she could. C’mon. Maybe.

“I would say that you’re drunk. And fucking insane,” you quipped, unable to help the laugh that escaped your lips – low and breathless. 

“Nothing else?” 

Every time she spoke, all the clear, hard lines that kept you two apart suddenly looked softer, blurrier – like someone had been rubbing out the edges. They looked wobbly, jagged, faded, as if someone drew them with a hand that couldn’t quite steady itself. Everything felt a little more fluid, a little more bendable, a little less… consequential.

God, the stakes were high and the rewards even better. One wrong breath and you could win her or lose her. You were always good at bluffing but had a bad habit of throwing out your cards. What then? What’s next? Fold, right? It’s always been a fold, baby. You never wanted the pot that bad anyway, did you?

“And that you’re a nerd.” “Oucchhhh.” 

Ellie feigned anguish with a cocky smile, whilst pretending to drive a dagger through her heart. 

Your conscience held itself in silence as soon as you watched her eyebrows pinch at the center. It’s almost exactly the way you remembered. When she’d look down at you, face between her legs. When you used to glide your tongue through her folds, making slow, soft circles around her clit.

There had suddenly been just too much fucking saliva in your mouth while looking at her like that. You began to believe that the spit in your mouth could be used for far more useful things than moistening your mouth. Both of you exchanged a fleeting look. A knowing one. A thirsty one.

You slowly leaned in to kiss her gently, pulling away to scan her face for any sign of regret, resentment – or satisfaction.

She didn’t wear surprise on her features. Her eyes had darkened, something hypnotic and fucking carnal behind pupils blown. The small victory set your body alight. And a discreet, sin-free, mouth-watering desire had been fulfilled. It was a peck. Just to test the waters. An innocent thing. 

The tug just below Ellie’s happy-trail disagreed. 

You both moved to brazenly close the distance, rushing to get up and get your hands on each other – to clumsily and carelessly make your way toward the bed that you missed so much. Your hands held the side of her face as her lips continued to crash into yours. She brought a hand to the side of your neck, a thumb grazing your cheek, the exact way she used to make you melt. It was sweet, it was missed, it was never supposed to be innocent. It was born of desperation. 

And it was fucking sloppy.

Miraculously, you two had found the bed – which, to be honest, is no miracle since this felt like ritual – and she pinned you down onto it. You slid up further into the sheets, your body buzzing at the way Ellie groped you. You clawed at her shirt, pathetically pulling her closer. A soft whine crept from your throat when her lips left yours, a string of saliva stretching between your mouths. Gravity broke the string; the warm spit dribbled down your chin.

You laid there, looking up at Ellie, whose hands have already undone a bra, while she feasted her eyes upon your neck like it was her next meal. Ellie had always been one to admire you, but there simply was no time to fuckin’ waste. 

Her right hand found your neck, nimble fingers closing around your throat and squeezing a breathy yelp from you. Her left hand found a handful of your soft tits, her palm skimming over your hard nipples and fighting the urge to grab any harder than she was. But before she could decide to rough you up any further, her lips and tongue met the skin on your neck, leaving a trail of painful and wet kisses.

It was so quick, born of something so pent-up, secret, uncontrollable. You loved that she didn’t give you a moment to think. The moans that involuntarily escaped your lips were half-formed, broken, breathy. Your thoughts weren’t that much different.

“Shit,” you managed to croak out, realizing that she had been leaving love bites. “C’mon, El. I don’t… don’t have a way to fuckin’ cover them.”

“Good,” Ellie huffed between half-kisses, before decisively bringing her teeth down hard on your neck, purposely ignorant to your wishes. A sharp inhale through your teeth settled into a helpless moan in your mouth. “Means I get to keep you. Right, baby?”

Baby. She called you baby. Something in your chest tightened, like heartstrings suddenly tangled. You’d question whether she meant that if you were sober. But the buzzing in your body from the gin denied the need for proof. Your proof was right there. Ellie’s tongue on your neck softened anxiety’s edges for you and your nerves remained partially blunted to the panic of being called her baby. 

“Mhm,” you sighed, nodding a bit sporadically, clearly melting. You searched for her hands with yours and dragged them down toward that deliciously painful ache in your pussy. “Fuck, please touch me, El, please.”

Ellie’s fingers dug into the hems of your shirt and her hands scrambled to pull it up and over your head. She brought her soft, pink lips to your chest, leaving kisses, sneaking bites and trailing her tongue down to your hard nipples. Ellie drew a plea from your lips, and she was about to do it again. All while her hands had worked themselves to the button and zipper of your jeans. And once she got those down – her own.

Your eyes lavished the sight of Ellie’s pretty thighs. Pretty, soft, flecked with freckles. The perfect place to put your head between. Goosebumps had strewn themselves across your skin. And your pretty friend’s warm hand over your cunt didn’t help.

“So you must’ve really missed me, huh,” she teased, running a finger over an obnoxiously wet spot of your underwear. You flushed at the soft brush of her finger, your blood red-hot underneath your skin. Afraid that she’d draw away her hand to tease you further, you gripped her forearm and pressed it against the heat between your legs. Your eyes locked.

“Gotta check to make sure, right?” You tilted your hips toward her, your words edging on a dare. And you had always known Ellie to be far too stubborn to turn one down. 

In silent agreement, her left hand peels your panties toward the side, her right middle and ring finger slipping easily into your dripping cunt and thumb gently landing on your throbbing clit. 

“Sh-Shit,” you moaned, licking your lips shortly after. With eyelids low, you reached for your tits, as if something feral stirred in your gut at the feeling of being filled by Ellie’s fingers. You fervently imagined what her tongue would feel like filling up your pussy; it had been too long ago to recall.

Your eyes followed her movement in hungry anticipation. She lowered her face to your middle, fingers sliding out to spread the lips of your cunt. What a fuckin’ tease.

She ran her tongue through your folds, eager to earn another pretty sound from you. And she did. Bottom to top, the tip of her tongue caught and spread the slick over your clit, and you couldn’t help but groan in greed. More. You wanted more. 

Ellie delivered — with a warm, wet tongue that slid into your pussy. 

“Goddd, fuck, El. Feels so, f-fuckin’ — good,” you whimpered pathetically. “S-so fuckin’ deep in my cunt.”  Like second nature, your fingers clawed for a grip on Ellie’s rusty brown hair.

“So — fuckin’… pretty, baby,” she moaned into you, between tongue-deep licks of your pussy. The sound of Ellie’s tongue messily lapping against and into your gushing cunt made a slippery mess out of her own underwear. But she didn’t need to tell you that for you to know.

Her fingers found themselves in your messy pussy again, her tongue at your clit, making steady swirls, occasionally closing her lips around your bud to gently suck. Like clockwork, a familiar hunger gently tore at you from your core.

“Shit, yessss, baby. Mhm, like that. Like thatttt. Gimme, El, p-please. I’m —” 

Just like that, Ellie had to do the opposite of what you so desperately begged for. Her tongue abandoned your clit, and her fingers left your pussy, sticky, beaded strings of slick adorning the space between them. An exasperated whimper left with an exhale. Ellie sat back onto her heels, self-satisfied smirk on her face.

“Sorry — were you not done?”

“Fuckin’ Christ, El. You’re so annoying.”

She watched you compose yourself from the brink of the delicious chase of your orgasm, pulling something out from inside a bin from underneath the bed. Something she hadn’t used since she had seen you last. 

She calmly wrestled it on, made sure it was secure. And you ignored the blatant watering of your mouth.

“Aww, c’mon.” She screwed up her chin into a sarcastic pout. Her features sat gentle on her face, but her movements were a bit rough. Her hands pulled your legs to the right, leaving you on your side. Without giving you time to react, she rolled you onto your front, and pulled your ass up by your hips. You comfortably laid there, on your knees. “You love it.”

Her hazel eyes drank you up, admired your ass, and locked on the pretty, glistening wet lips between your legs.

“What are yo—”, you started, unable to finish. Ellie’s fingers spread your pussy lips, the tip of the strap gliding just-barely in. “H-holy shhhit.” 

The sultry whine slipped from your mouth. And, poor you. You couldn’t help but arch your back. Stars swam in your eyes as her slips slowly rocked into you, the length of her strap filling your wet cunt. 

“Slipped in sooo easy, baby,” Ellie hummed, hypnotized by the view, the way your ass moved with every stroke. Her palms spread on your ass, fingers digging in, likely to leave light fingertip bruises afterward. Her strokes got quicker and harder, her strap running over that delicious sweet spot in your pussy.

“Ellie! Fuck! Goddd, fuck me plea— right there, rightthere, baby,” you groaned, barely coherent, face-deep into her pillow, hands clawing at the sheets that smelled so much like her.

A series of whimpers had been leaving Ellie’s lips as she fucked you, the base of the strap rubbing comfortably — conveniently — against her clit. Something feral crawled up into Ellie’s abdomen with each stroke.

Unsatisfied with her grip on you, she reached over, laid a hand across your throat, forcing you to look up and stifling your moaning. 

“You make such — pretty fuckin’… noises for me — fuck,” Ellie said. Maybe sighed. Although, to you it felt like a pant.

You turned your head just a bit to catch a blurry sideways glimpse of Ellie. There was a cool glow that illuminated the side of her face, freckles clear and bright, eyes closed and chasing that familiar tug in your core as she fucked into you. It was probably the moonlight trickling in from behind Ellie’s closed curtains. 

And it was safe to say you fucking hated those curtains as they were.

Writhing under the pressure and friction of Ellie’s body behind yours, you secretly wished those curtains were never closed to prying eyes. You desperately wanted someone to look in. Someone to watch Ellie fuck you silly while you were wide-eyed, hypnotized, and hungry. The way she used to. Face down, ass up and fucked into a pillow. The way it was supposed to be.

And you’ve never looked more fucking gorgeous to her. 

“God fuck, so clo—”  Ellie’s breathy groans grew more intense, her sounds became all whiny, fussy, insatiable. You had her wrapped around your finger — and you’d be insane to make it all so easy for her. Her breathing quickened, catching itself on that warm knot in her stomach nearly unraveling. 

You pulled forward and away from Ellie. The strap slid out of your pussy, to both your dismay and delight. A smirk snuck its way onto your lips as you turned around, rolling onto your back — missionary.

Her freckled chest was heaving a hard, unsteady breath. A bewildered expression on her features bordered on defeat.

“The fuck was that?” She asked, chest and cheeks alight, flush and rosy. You daydreamed about leaving purplish love bites around her neck, like a collar. You had always been holding the leash, haven't you? 

This was your proof.

“I think that makes us even,” you answered, brandishing your self-satisfaction.

“Asshole,” Ellie exhaled with half a laugh, still catching her breath. Her hand tapped your thigh in a light smack — Ellie’s version of playful chastisement.

“Yeah?” you challenged, eyes flicking between the harness and the endearing lines forming at the corner of Ellie’s smirk.

You sat up, hands at the harness which sat around her hips and ass, managing to wrangle it off. Your eyes struggled to leave the pretty, sloppy mess she made underneath it.

Often you wondered if there was some secret language that only you two speak telepathically. Because she grabbed your legs, forcing you on your back again, and hoisting your right leg over her right shoulder — doing exactly as you desired. 

Ellie positioned herself so that her middle met your own, and when it did, the feeling of her warm, sticky cunt made the ache of your clit border on painful. The slightest movement made the most delicious and obnoxious sound of your desperately wet pussies up against each other. 

“So fuckin’ wet for me, baby,” Ellie huffed, watching the way your hands grasp at your own chest in lust. “Is that all for me, pretty girl?”

Strings of drool stretched between your cunts every time she pulled away and returned back to you, hips rocking like something carnally possessed. Your clits passed over each other, throbbing hard and sensitive from the pressure and slippery, effortless lack of friction between your gushing pussies.

“Mhm, yes, fuck… yes—,” your pathetic, lovedrunk mouth ran. “All fuckin’ yours.”

You admired the tiny beads of sweat on her,  like a mist that fell over Ellie’s neck and chest. You couldn’t help but bite your lip at the sight of glistening slick adorning both of your thighs. The air was a mess of both your whimpers, whines, nearly animalistic breathing.

“Uh-huh, just like that — All mine, baby,” Ellie groaned, leaning just a bit forward to grab one of your tits with her free hand. 

All hers. Sure, you were both drunk. But Ellie did nothing but confirm all of which you held to be true in secret. You’ve always belonged to each other – whether the world knew it or not.

“Keep going, please— yes… shitttt. El, plea— please fuck me,” you pleaded, eyeing Ellie’s tits bounce as she rubbed herself against you.

You clawed at each other; fingernails dug into Ellie’s forearm, and Ellie returned the favor with fingertips pressed hard into her grip on your thigh. The incessant and pathetic desire to get closer than you were plagued you both, as if you hadn’t been close enough. You could've shared skin – and surely even that wouldn't be enough. 

A mouthwatering daydream of watching Ellie’s eyebrows draw together exactly the way they did earlier, became reality. Lust burned circles around your clit and the deep tug behind your belly button served as a warning.

You could gather the same from Ellie, her eyes pinched closed, movements a bit more erratic, a bit more involuntary.

“Gonna make me cum with you, baby? Make me fucking cu—,” Ellie said, words sloppy and frantic, breathing ragged. “Shitshitshit, holy fuck, fuck!”

As warmth crept from Ellie’s cunt overs – you writhed underneath it. The thought of Ellie’s squirt drenching your pussy did nothing put you over the frenzied edge.

“Mhm, please, so fuckin’ close, El. Please, so close, I can’t fucki— shit! I’mcumming I’mcumming, fuckin’ god—” A tide rolled itself in your gut – you held your breath, just to feel it a bit longer, the euphoric tension and release. Heat ripped from your cunt to your chest, pussy clenching, clit throbbing, Ellie unrelenting. The relief in your clit grew sharp, a bit painful, overwhelming. Your hand rose to her abdomen, preventing her from rocking against you further. “Jesus christ.”

Ellie’s half-lidded gaze favored the way you squirmed under her; you were just so effortlessly beautiful, at the brink of cumming, at the sleepy aftermath – even with sweat beaded upon your brow from the desperate chase.

She adjusted her legs, fixed in order to collapse next you, although close enough to nearly be on top of you. You tangled legs with hers, finding soft, cool spots on her skin to rest on. Ellie lays half-way on her side, one arm folder and underneath a pillow and the other tracing the outline of your jaw. You both take a moment to catch your breaths.

“But friends don’t fuck friends right?” Ellie quipped sarcastically, waiting for a laugh from you.

“Oh, shut up, El,” you replied, a bit of a spirited defeat in your voice. Fighting the sleepiness, the exhaustion, the self-satisfaction –  you relented, wanting to enjoy the moment as it was. For now, she was yours and you were hers. You shared a bed. The sheets smelled of you. She called you her baby. 

“Let’s just…worry about that shit tomorrow.”

[humanjarvis]

bloodlust

synopsis: you’ve never known real power. sylus lets you taste it.

tags: nsfw & dark (mdni), sylus gravely injures people who upset you, you like it and fuck him in front of their writhing bodies, he then wipes them from existence with his evol, love confessions, avoidant reader is back, reader thinks they're weak, reader exalts sylus, reader needs therapy, size difference, fingering, vaginal sex, kinda? implied to be their first time but u can decide for urself bc what a first time this would be, blood, violence (obviously), sylus is still nice but definitely leaning into the legendary criminal persona, he’s also obsessed with you, i think that’s it?? pairing: sylus x reader word count: 2.7k

a/n: try psychoanalyzing THIS

You’d always known you were a vengeful person. 

From the day you’d started hating your babysitter for insulting your favorite toy, to the time you’d tried to explode your leech of a landlord with your mind every month, you’d been well aware: you did not take kindly to being wronged. 

You had no true power of your own, no—timid and unimposing, you’d been forced to restrict your retaliation to the hypothetical, the mental. Death wishes, prayers for misfortune, and fantasies of karma were your safe haven—the space in your mind where no one could reach you with insult or ridicule, where the judgment of others was your sole prerogative. 

For years, you’d lived this way, worked this way. Discredited and discarded, excluded and exploited, you’d sought comfort in your capacity to think, to imagine. To imagine retribution for those who would never be dealt it—at least, not from your inconsequential hand. 

But this time, your mere imagination would not be enough.

For the last month, a clique of obnoxious coworkers had been harassing you nonstop, stewing in jealousy after your recent promotion. Day after day, they’d tried to break your spirit, and day after day, they inched closer to success. The thinly veiled barbs, harsh criticisms, and shameless attempts to steal your work were eating away at you, no matter how vividly you imagined retaliating in the safety of your mind, dissolving each perpetrator to dust for their needless hostility. 

The dam broke the day they’d found your weak spot, launching a full-on attack on you. Not your skill, not your work, but the unchangeable traits that already kept you awake at night, wishing you could be something greater. Your shyness, your weakness, your simple approach to the world—everything that made you who you were, they’d picked apart.

You don’t recall how you’d gotten home that day—only the wings of a crow fluttering above you as you floated down the familiar streets on autopilot. You’d stepped through the door withdrawn nearly into catatonia, recoiling from sounds and flinching from touches. 

Sylus hadn’t liked that. 

After years of lonely independence—not what you’d chosen but all you could handle—you’re still adjusting to relying on someone else to preserve your honor. Especially when that person has everything you lack: an imposing form, an authoritative voice, effortless assurance, and unrivaled strength. 

Sylus can make your hypotheticals—your unfulfilling, pathetic hypotheticals—into reality. Without lifting a finger, without breaking a sweat. 

So when you return to his home in a shell of dejection, drained of the life you’d graciously breathed into his, that’s precisely what he plans to do.

Someone had upset you—terribly so. The moment he’d claimed you, held your trembling, uncertain form in his, he’d set a very high price for that.

In the back room of Onychinus’s main warehouse, your body tremors in anticipation. Tonight, your defenses are more than psychological. Tonight, for the first time, you’ll know the intoxicating security of capability. 

As you wait for Sylus’s cue, your mind wanders to the aftermath of that day. Once you’d come back to him, looked into his eyes with something more than blankness, he’d approached you. Gathering you into his arms, he’d asked what’d happened—who’d happened—pressing sweet kisses to your temple and lips whenever your voice would break. 

He’d holed up in his office after he’d seen you to bed, compiling all the information he could find—a lot, with his resources—on the three men who’d tormented you. Their names, addresses, roles in the company, aspirations—anything that’d be useful in luring them to his turf. 

And now, he’s asked you to stay out of sight and wait for his signal as he lulls his suspects with the false promise of a good deal. 

Just as you feel the familiar impulse to flee threaten your resolve, a too-realistic caw and the steady flaps of metal wings snap you out of your thoughts. As the omnipresent crow lands on your shoulder, nuzzling your cheek in programmed affection, you walk slowly to the heavy door, steeling yourself before sliding it open. 

In the dim light of the square room, you feel his presence before you see him, his cool authority drawing you to him like a magnet. You come to a soft stop behind his chair, draping one arm over his shoulders, the other on his chest, as he introduces you as his partner. And with a tense, shuddering breath, you tighten your grip on him as you raise your eyes to meet the men who’d nearly broken you. 

Apparently, though, your true reunion has been put on hold, as their careless eyes are busy ogling your body in proprietary glee. 

When Sylus clears his throat, they seem to remember where they are and who they’re with, and three pairs of eyes finally deign to meet yours. Almost immediately, those eyes flicker in recognition, the faces of their owners blanching with nerves.  

And that reaction is the smoking gun—the only evidence Sylus needs to enact their damnation. 

In an instant, crimson ropes with black undertones snake around the men’s immobilized bodies, suspending them in midair before inching up to muffle the groans that catch in their rigid throats. 

Rising from his seat, Sylus bends to kiss your forehead before blocking your view with his back. “Don’t peek, sweetie,” he hums as he extends one large hand, dancing his index finger in a line of X’s. As he moves, hundreds of tiny, twisting cuts appear around each man’s neck, their countless wounds dripping with thin streams of blood. 

Completing his design, he clenches his fist, and the ropes tighten to drain their prey at a much greater volume. 

A few seconds later and he drops his hand, the men’s half-emptied, half-alive bodies hitting the floor in one simultaneous thud. 

From behind the broad panes of Sylus’s back, you're not supposed to see his carnage, the way his victims can’t even beg him for mercy with the blood clogging their windpipes. 

But with your hands on his narrow waist, supporting you as you peek around him in disobedience, the image of what he’s done for you and its surprisingly comfortable weight settle on your now relaxed shoulders. 

It’s not the mess on the floor, but the principle of his actions—the urgency with which he moved to avenge his own.

You want to thank him. You want to worship him. 

Oblivious to the desire thrumming in your heart, Sylus finally turns around, ready to usher you out of the room. When he reaches for you, though, you intercept his arm, panting softly up at him with wide eyes.

Mistaking your expression as terror, he moves to step back, but you shake your head vehemently and tug him toward you, your feet firmly rooted in place on the tiled black floor. 

Wordlessly, you paw frantically at his shirt and belt—anything that can come off—with your usually nimble fingers trembling and clumsy from the rush of energy in your veins. 

As you manage to undo the first button of his shirt, realization dawns on his face, lightening his stormy garnet eyes in a mix of shock and relief. 

“You’re a naughty little thing, aren’t you?” he breathes, his large hand covering yours on his buttons and freezing your advances momentarily. 

With an impatient huff, you look up at him and open your mouth in protest, but he speaks before you can. 

“For a moment, I thought I'd made you fear me again,” he admits with a shaky chuckle. “Evidently I was wrong, and although I'm glad to know that…are you sure you want to do this here, sweetie?” he checks, peering down at you with a searching gaze. 

Finding your voice, you use his loosened shirt to pull him down to your height, caressing his chiseled jaw in your hand. “I want you to take me. Here, in front of all of them. I want them to watch the man who’ll take their lives take my heart in his hands. Will you do that for me?”

He’ll do anything for you. 

And so, softly maneuvering your body, Sylus repositions you to stand in front of him and angles your gaze to the reflective steel ceiling, not allowing the filth on the floor to enter your line of sight. He supposes they can look at you—it won’t matter for much longer, anyway—but he refuses to let you look at them any longer, to let your intimacy be tainted by the memories of what they’d done. 

Slowly, he trails his unoccupied hand down to grope your full breasts, humming in approval when he feels your pebbling nipples. Pinching your right peak softly, he murmurs into your left ear, surrounding you on all sides. “You like what I’ve done, I presume? Are you pleased with me?” 

Moaning softly, you arch back into him, pushing your chest further into his welcoming hand. Tilting your head back as far as his iron grip allows, you turn your face to brush his cheek as his fingers continue working your aching nipple. “It’s not what you’ve done to them,” you breathe against him, “it’s what you’ve done for me.” 

With another moan, you rock your hips back between his legs, feeling the sizable bulge that grows harder with each reaction you give him. 

With the strength in his one free hand, the other still aiming your gaze toward the ceiling, he tears the front of your flimsy dress open, your breasts spilling out in smooth bounces. 

Sylus groans deeply at the visual, his palm coming up to grope and knead your tender flesh between his calloused fingers. 

“Tell me,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the pulse in your neck. “How should I take you, hmm? Hard and fast, so they know I pace you, or slow and deep, so my love is clear?”

Leaving your breast with a last tug at your nipple, he lowers his hand to dip his fingers under the hem of your exposed panties, gliding between your glistening folds. Extending two long digits, he slips them into your fluttering entrance, sliding in and out with ease from the intensity of your arousal. 

As he pumps his fingers inside you, your walls clenching around him in search of something larger, you’re barely able to formulate a response. Luckily, your answer is simple.

“Everything,” you moan to him. “Everything you can give me—I want it all.” 

With a rumbling groan, Sylus gives you a final deep thrust with his fingers, dragging them inside your walls to collect all of your essence. Pulling them out of you with a wet pop, he swiftly sticks them in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the digits as he savors your taste. Standing up on your toes, you push your mouth to his, slipping your tongue past his lips to steal what’s left of your flavor. A string of saliva connects you as you part, only snapping when Sylus shifts to free the heavy bulge from his straining slacks. 

Mewling, you try to push your hips back, desperately searching for whatever friction you can find. But with a light tap to your hip, he holds you in place, thwarting your attempt to bring him closer. “Be patient for me, won’t you?” he asks. “I’ve wanted you like this for so long—surely you’ll let me lead?”

And although you’ve vowed against letting anyone lead you, letting anyone take charge of you lest you get burned, you remember the power he’d gifted you only an hour ago, the writhing bodies still littering the floor behind you. His grand display of care, devotion, and understanding. Without a second thought, you find yourself nodding frantically in his embrace, his hand on your jaw briefly loosening with the force. 

With a soft, unnecessary apology, you still, allowing yourself to fall pliant in his hands. Against your ear, you feel his lips curl into a smile.

“Eyes up,” he whispers as he sinks into you.

The intrusion is slow, and thanks to the wetness leaking out of you, you suction in his oversized length with only a slight discomfort. With a gentle push, he fully seats himself inside you, and you both release a breathy moan—yours at the wholeness, his at the tightness.

After one sublime moment, your bodies almost merged with your closeness, he pulls out slowly, leaving just the head of his shaft inside you before surging forward in an all-encompassing thrust. Mouth falling open, you unconsciously tilt your hips back to meet him, and he growls his approval. 

“I’ll give you everything,” he rumbles with another deep thrust. “Everything you want, everyone you want it done to—that’s my promise to you,” he vows, biting your ear. “Not a single being will harm you without paying the price—the price they pay as they look up at us with their last glances, wishing with all they have left to be in my place instead.” 

As he speaks, he quickens his measured strokes into powerful snaps of his hips—pacing you, just as he’d said. His promise and his movements are all too much, and you feel a sweet ache start to spread within your lower belly. 

Trying and failing to match his bruising thrusts, you babble out your admiration, the words that have circled your brain since he’d first told you his plans. 

“Thank you,” you pant, drawing in shuddering breaths. “I-I know I shut down on you sometimes, but I’m not used to having someone to care for me—having someone who can. I’ve only ever protected myself, a-and only ever in my head. I’m not strong enough, or assertive enough, to do anything you do for me and I love you so much for it—love you so much that I’m jealous of you, and it only makes me love you more,” you finish with a whimper. 

At your confession, Sylus grips your hip in his hand and fucks into you with renewed fervor, jostling every part of your body but your head, still securely angled toward the sky. The pounding starts a quake in your legs, and you slump into his strong chest, entrusting yourself to him as he pushes you both over the edge. With a few more sharp thrusts and a stinging bite on your neck, he spills into you in thick, hot spurts, and the sensation has you gushing around him. With an unrestrained cry, you dig your nails into his arm, and he presses impossibly closer to you.

“However much you think you love me, know that it hardly compares to the obsession I feel towards you.” 

As you’re lost in the pleasure of your joint release, murky red and black wisps coil around the figures twitching on the floor, enshrouding them in an eerie haze. With near inaudible crackles, they erode the forgotten flesh of their targets, twisting and curling, bending and snapping, until the floor is cleared of sin. 

Sylus, who’d captured your attention with a devoted kiss in the comedown of your orgasm, slowly releases you once his work is done. Breathless, you hover near his mouth, eager to ask for more, when you notice his firm grip has left your jaw—you’re free to look as you please. 

With his length still inside you, pulsing softly and coated with your combined essence, you twist in his arms, expecting the lifeless shapes on the floor to sully the peace of the moment, to resurface the desolation in you that'd led to their demise. 

But as you peer down at the shiny black tiles, you see nothing but yourselves—a smaller figure entwined in the consuming embrace of a much larger one.

“How do you feel?” a deep voice purrs into your ear. Craning your neck to look at its pleased owner, you sensually press yourself back, burying his already hardening length deeper into its nest. With a soft smile, you claim his lips in an unhurried kiss, tender and reverent and lewd.

When you pull away, he splays a possessive hand over your abdomen. He rests his chin atop your head as he resumes his pumps in and out of you, gradually quickening his controlled movements. 

Fluttering your eyes closed, you breathe in with contentment. The air around you has grown a little lighter with the deletion of those who’d dared to waste it.

[prosypepper]

wet dreamz

summary: it’s your (and your bf’s/husband’s/hookup’s/whatever’s) first time together. .

warnings: nsfw for all so 18+ mdni!; virginity loss on both parts, premature ejaculation, unprotected p in v, talks about virginity, college au (gojo); hookups, fingering, dominant kento, talks about virginity (nanami); unprotected p in v, rough sex, little bit of dirty talk, seduction (toji); oral, friends to lovers (geto).

pepper's notes: IT'S finally here...thank you all soo much for 1k i am so so appreciative & i am SO SO sorry it took me this long to get this out. i've been going through it so thank u all for understanding. i love all of u so much thank u all. MWAH MWAH.

satoru gojo

nervous? check. horny? check. praying to god you can’t see the huge erection in his pants? also check.

maybe satoru was an idiot for telling you he wasn’t a virgin, when he was in fact the biggest virgin in the universe, possibly. and maybe you were an idiot for talking him up and inflating his ego even more—and avoiding the conversation about whether or not you were a virgin, too.

either way, satoru’s big talk and your enabling caused you to be in this position—stradding your almost-boyfriend’s lap, desperately and sloppily moving your lips against his. silently, your pray in your mind that you’re doing everything right, threading your fingers through the white locks of satoru’s hair and trying to keep up with the pace of his enthusiastic make-out.

“do y-you—wanna…” satoru breathes out as he pulls away for a second, “you know.” he shrugs, looking off to the side out of anxiety for your answer. your own eyes flicker down for just a second, stomach flipping over at the question.

you’ve been through the innocent stages—the cute crushing and passing looks—and now, it’s time to own up to all that talking from the not-so-innocent stage you’ve built.

“mhm,” you hum, refusing to look at satoru just as much as he is to you. it’s obvious how nervous you are, palms sweating and gulping. knees digging into the soft plush of your dorm bed mattress, you’re readjusting your weight over and over because you can’t sit still.

satoru’s hands squeeze your hips, slightly pressing you down to feel the bulge that’s been prodding against his pants for about thirty minutes. eyes widening, you look at satoru—who’s about to burst. his face is all red and flushed, and his lip is pulled in between his perfect teeth.

shit, he’s about to lose it.

impatient, satoru ushers you to move off of his lap and onto the bed, swiftly rearranging your bodies to where you’re trapped beneath him. butterflies twirl in your stomach, more intense as the seconds go by, and you swear you’re about to throw up when satoru pulls his shirt off.

he’s gorgeous, obviously—but his toned torso and reddened skin from all his blushing are so pretty up close. satoru’s fingers hook into the waistband of your shorts, eagerly pulling them down before you grab his wrist as a reflex. he stops and looks you in the eye, letting you settle down for a second before you let go. it’s charming, really—he wants nothing more than for you to want this.

because satoru’s wanted this for so long. he wants it bad.

lengthy fingers work your shorts and underwear down all at once, and your thighs snap shut as to not expose yourself even more. satoru’s hands rest on your knees, rubbing small circles while his eyes trace over your body.

 “you okay, baby?” he asks, voice just the littlest bit shaky.

“huh—oh, yeah, yes,” you mumble in response, “are you?”

“yeah—yes,” satoru answers, repeating after you, looking like he’s about to throw up. yet his anxiety doesn’t stop him from shoving his bottoms down, allowing his heavy length to spring free and finally be shown.

to say the least, it scares you even more knowing you’ll have to take that. satoru is huge, terribly long and painfully hard from all the teasing you’ve done to one another. you wince when satoru goes to separate your knees, and your hands immediately go to push at his chest.

“satoru,” you whisper, connecting your own hazy eyes with his, “i—i know that you’ve…done this before.” you bite your lip, blinking softly.

“um—yeah,” satoru deeply says, trying to focus on what you’re saying—but damn you look so pretty underneath him, and your skin is so soft. you’re so gorgeous and he’s once again about to lose it.

“i just…” your eyes flicker to the side, “i’ve never done this before. s-so…be gentle, please?”

oh, god.

satoru’s heart is going to burst out of his chest.

“it’s okay, i—i’ll be gentle. promise,” satoru assures you, bringing a hand to stroke your cheek. his touch makes you let out a deep sigh, and you feel so delicate in his grasp. vulnerable enough to finally separate your knees, slowly dropping them down and exposing your sinfully drenched cunt.

satoru’s face rightfully goes pale. everything he’s ever wanted is in front of him—you’re giving yourself up to him. satoru gojo. the random guy you met in class a month or so ago that was not so random now.

as the butterflies circle in his stomach, satoru sweetly trails his fingers down the inside of your thighs, forcing the pulse in between your legs to grow into a harsh heartbeat. he notices every small movement—the twitch of your legs and how intensely your chest heaves—and he believes you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

“careful, careful,” satoru mutters to himself, taking long seconds in between each of his movements. he doesn’t want to startle you—and even more, he doesn’t want to hurt you.

grunting lightly, the white haired man lifts your legs and rests the back of your thighs on top of his. this gets you even closer to him, both of you can feel the raw heat radiating off of one another’s bodies. satoru takes his length in his hand and taps it against your sticky folds, teasing your sensitive nerves and himself in the process.

“i’m gonna—gonna put it in now, okay?” satoru uneasily states.

“wait—but—oh!” you gasp as the tip—and only the tip—of satoru’s cock pushes past the resistant walls of your cunt, molding the tight space to fit him snugly. the stretch burns, it’s a sharp pain that shoots through you with no remorse. “mm—satoru, it hurts,” you whine, pushing against gojo’s built abdomen.

yet when he doesn’t budge, you look up at his eyes, which are glued to scene below him. he can’t help it—because he’s not just in you, no—he’s impaling you with his girth, you’re stretched so far around him by just his tip. he felt guilty at first at the thought of hurting you, but now, nothing is in his mind except for that image.

“satoru!” you shout, snapping the man’s attention to you. satoru’s eyes are glowing with lust, his cheeks red and flustered. little to your knowledge, he’s already on the cusp of an orgasm—hell, he was there before he’d even got his shirt off.

“i’m sorry—shit—i’m sorry, baby,” satoru babbles, before dislodging himself from your hole, strings of slick lewdly connecting the tip of his cock to your folds. “fuck—i’m so sorry,” he grunts, just as a few huge ropes of translucent white cum spurt from his cock, coating your abdomen in the substance.

your eyes are wide in surprise at how quickly it all happened, not even having a moment in your mind to process that you just made the satoru gojo cum in a few seconds. all it took was a little kissing and some gruesomely lewd imagery—and he was putty in your hands.

satoru falls atop you, becoming dead weight as his post-orgasmic state forces him to give out. his chest heaves against yours, his snow white hair tickles your shoulder. as much as you want to push him away—there’s something awfully sweet about the interaction. he’s close, closer than he’d allowed himself to be previously.

shaky breaths are shared between you, as is the warmth from your bodies—the warmth from your hearts—and all the emotions overcoming satoru are all too obvious. you shuffle around one another into a more comfortable position, until satoru’s head is on your chest, listening to your heartbeat.

“are you okay?” you whisper, threading your fingers through satoru’s hair to twirl a few strands.

“yeah,” he sighs, cuddling up to you even more. there’s something hidden in the way he’s acting, but you don’t mind for now—you allow the vulnerability to sink in.

because it’s way too obvious this boy was lying about not being a virgin.

kento nanami

the world of hookups was difficult to navigate.

sure, you were technically trying to find a boyfriend—but everyone knows dating apps aren’t really the best thing for that. it had landed you a few matches and a couple of okay dates; but you hadn’t been quite as far with anyone as you had made it with your current date.

kento nanami, a rather distinguished businessman who had “just looking to relieve some stress” in his bio, had taken you out to an expensive restaurant and then to a very expensive hotel afterwards. whatever charm this man had worked a million times over on you—you weren’t sure if it was his demeanor or that rolex on his wrist—but whatever it was, it absolutely lured you all the way into a king size bed with nanami.

he was still mostly dressed, only his shoes were off and placed next to the bed, and his powder blue dress shirt was unbuttoned about halfway down, revealing his toned chest and a rather uncharacteristic gold chain that was previously hidden. nanami’s hair was still in perfect place, not having even broken a sweat.

you, on the other hand, have your dressed hiked up to just above your legs and the top tucked underneath your tits—pretty much on full display for kento besides the fact he’s behind you, strong legs prying your own open.

your thigh twitches when kento runs his fingers up and down the soft flesh, your hands resting on his biceps to keep yourself from running away. quite interested in what was in store for the night, you weren’t going to fight back—honestly, who would run away from a man as gorgeous as kento?

“do you do this often?” you shakily ask to break the thick silence, staring down at your bodies.

“do what, sweetheart?” kento’s monotone voice replies, using his free hand to reach up and grab under your jaw.

“this. take girls to hotels to…do stuff,” you allude to the same thing he’s doing now, turning your head with kento’s hand to look up at him. your soft lashes bat at the blond man as he chuckles, deep, giving just the slightest smile at your questions.

“not too often,” he simply says, kissing right next to your lips, “why?”

“uhm,” you croak, losing track of thought the moment his lips touched your face, “i don’t know. i’m sorry.”

“don’t apologize,” kento softly chuckles, letting go of your head to rest on the side of his chest, “just relax, okay? i just want to take care of you.”

just relax, breathe, you repeat to yourself over and over again while you listen to kento’s steady heartbeat. your heart is racing but inevitably slows for the time being listening to the slow thump of your hookup’s heart. his fingers continue to trace small shapes over your thighs, every now and again moving just a little higher.

kento is painfully hard under his dress pants, yet he’s restraining himself for now—because he’s going to do what he came here to do first.

“can i touch you, love?” nanami asks, pecking a small kiss to your temple afterwards.

“yes, mhm,” you murmur, thickly swallowing in anticipation as his fingers begin to inch towards your heat. you can feel how wet you are—but you’re rather embarrassed for nanami to find out just how easily he riled you up.

“let me ask you something,” kento begins, dipping his fingers into your folds to feel the amount of slick conjured up, “are you a virgin?” and he’s not asking in a weird way like pretty much every other man you’ve known; he’s asking genuinely, because he has the gut feeling to be gentle.

“uh—i—,” you mumble, before finally admitting a small, “yes, i’m sorry.”

“aw,” kento coos, beginning to run his fingers over your aching heat, “don’t apologize, i’ll be gentle.” although you’re appreciative to his gracefulness, you begin to wonder just how rough he usually was—and those sinful visuals make you throb against nanami’s fingers.

“okay, please,” you hiss, the sensations of kento’s fingers working your cunt running through your body. hands grab at his arms tighter, your sensitivity making it difficult for you to stay still.

you’re almost sure that you’ve never been so turned on before, and your elevated responses to nanami’s simple touches are an attestment to that. his middle finger focuses on your sensitive bud, going between movements of flicking and slowly rubbing circles around and around.

“how does this feel?” nanami questions, watching every move—every twitch—that you make. he sees just how new this is to you, and he would be lying if he said it didn’t make him just a little bit prideful.

“good. so good,” you babble, eyes squeezing shut when kento begins to pick up his pace. the pleasure runs all through you, intense, that orgasmic feeling creeping up on you much sooner than you’d ever been able to do yourself.  

kento’s like a magician. he makes your hips wriggle and your legs twitch effortlessly, he causes your face to contort in a indecent way without even trying, it seems. hell, the increasing pace of his fingers on your clit is almost making you crawl away, your nails are digging into his skin and you don’t even realize it.

“stay still,” kento commands, using his free hand to press down right on your abdomen, “don’t fight it, darling. don’t fight it.”

his words calm you down just a little, instead you just stay in place while your body jolts every other second from the sensitive pleasure he’s causing within you. breathless whines fall from your lips in the utmost pathetic way, signaling just how good you feel to kento.

“what is it, hm? tell me,” kento tells you, staying at an intense, fast pace just to make you lose your mind a little more.

“i think,” you whine, breath hitching as the feeling in your tummy intensifies, “i might cum.” as embarrassed as you may be to admit it, you simply cannot help what falls from your mouth. it’s all kento’s fault.

“you can cum, my love,” kento assures, pressing a kiss into your hair, “you can do it.”

somehow, his voice erases every anxious thought in your mind, your body responding with nothing but pathetic moans and a very, terribly, intense orgasm you didn’t even recognize as being so close. kento can feel on his fingers when you finally cum, chuckling once again to himself at how easily he coaxed an orgasm out of you.

it’s cute, really.

you lay back on him after calming down—with your hair all messy and face somewhat sweaty—you’re so adorable in his arms, kento thinks he might just have to turn this into more than a one night stand.

toji fushiguro

if toji had known what he was getting himself into with you, he’d probably accepted that deal from shiu wayyy earlier.

bossy, crude and mean—you were everything toji had ever dreamed of in a woman. the type that didn’t take shit, you’d go toe-to-toe with a man twice your size without hesitation, and there was something about it toji truly admired.

after his first time meeting you, he understood why shiu had told him not to fuck with you.

how could he not, though?

toji was about to fuck you right now.

he couldn’t help the natural charm he used on everyone, and especially women, and he couldn’t help that you fell for it, either. shiu would be pissed if he ever found out about it—hell, he’d kill him—but you only live once, right? there’s no way toji could turn down an offer such as this from a bombshell like you.

“you sure you’re not married?” you’re purring into toji’s ear, running your fingers over his chest, “you’re so handsome, toji.”

every bit of sultry poison that spills from your lips is music to toji’s ears, making his heart thump just a little harder and the tent in his pants to get just a bit stiffer. his big arm his lazily wrapped around your waist, and that sleazy grin of his pulls at his lips at your question.

“yes, ma’am,” toji says with a nod, holding up his left hand to show the absence of a wedding band on his ring finger.

with that, you throw a leg over his lap, fixing yourself to straddle toji’s lap and rest your arms around his neck. looking him straight in the eyes, you’re satisfied that your little plan had come together so easily.

toji was wrapped around your pretty, manicured finger—and he had no clue. that little charm he was so sure of was nothing in comparison to yours.

“do you want to fuck me, toji?” you ask, glossed lips forming a pretty little pout and your head cocking to the side innocently. toji’s adam’s apple bobs when he swallows thickly, a little crack in the confident and cocky façade he put on in front of you.

“fuck yeah,” toji whispers, hands gripping at your waist.

to say the least, toji really meant that little “fuck yeah,” because it only takes him a few seconds to rip your clothes—and his—off and flip you over. he’s in a daze when he pries your legs open, staring straight at your messy, wet pussy—immediately lifting one of your legs up and attaching his calloused fingers to your clit.

“jesus,” toji breathes, in utter awe at how soaked you are, his eyes never leaving your body. you hum in response to the pleasure, softly biting your lower lip and studying the broad man in front of you. toji quickly uses your slick to lube up his cock, grunting at the small chill that runs up his spine from finally allowing himself some friction.

growing ever impatient, you shimmy your hips down to signal you’re ready. the squelch that reverberates through the room when toji finally slides in is downright disgusting, and you sigh in content at the feeling of being stretched open.

toji immediately groans, loud, and throws his head back at how you feel—tight and warm around him, greedily sucking his length in the more he pushes into your walls. smiling devilishly at toji, you wrap your legs around his waist to pull him in even closer, giving in to your desires and pushing him to do the same.

“stop that,” toji roughly commands, squeezing your thigh to keep his self-control in check—or at least try his best to. you know what he’s saying is only for his own benefit.

but that’s not what you want—and toji should know by now you got whatever you wanted.

“stop what?” you question, interlocking your heels behind him. a finger twirls your hair as you look at toji dumbly, as if there wasn’t a single coherent thought in your mind. yet every move you make is orchestrated to a t, pushing and pushing toji to finally snap and just give you what you want.

what you need.

“fuck,” toji’s moaning the curse over and over when he slowly begins to move, gently rocking his hips back and forth to meet yours, “you feel so fucking good, oh my god.” he praises you so gently under his breath, silently hoping you won’t hear him as to not inflate your ego anymore.

“tojiii,” you whine, a small pout forming once again on your pretty lips, “harder.”

toji shakes his head, whisps of black hair moving around in unison with it, refusing to look into your eyes. he looks anywhere else—your tits, your stomach, your cunt—because he’s afraid he’ll give in the moment he finally catches your pupils.

but fuck, are you convincing.

“harder?” toji repeats, “fuckin’ harder?”

his hips pick up speed at the same time that his hands come to grab your arms, affectively pinning you down to the mattress. you allow your legs to spread lewdly, opening up fully for toji to use.

the tip of toji’s cock prods at your cervix, the pleasurable pressure going through your whole body. he’s going at you like an animal, harshly impaling your cunt with his girth, all senses of caring and restriction thrown out the window.

though you might regret it in the morning, you’re going to get what you want.

suguru geto

“suguru, stop moving.”

the long haired man winces and holds his breath at the sting of the alcohol, gripping onto the counter you’re sat upon. your knees rest at his sides, barely holding suguru in place, nevertheless not allowing him to move due to your fussing when he did so.

he had gotten into a fight with some guy at a party, causing him to show up to your dorm battered and bruised with a few cuts over his handsome face. now, a couple clear band-aids litter his skin, and suguru’s eyes stay on yours in hopes you’ll look into his.

all the while, you wonder why suguru had come to you out of all the people (and women) he knew. there was an unsaid tension between you two, sometimes sexual and other times just tension.

the two of you were idiots in love, and yet, neither one of you had the guts to say anything about it.

“there we go,” you sigh, running your thumb over the last bandage placed above suguru’s eyebrow. finally, you look suguru straight in the eyes for only a second, catching his dreamy gaze.

“you’re so pretty,” suguru faintly whispers, giving you the tiniest little smile. he’d had the habit of calling you pretty and gorgeous in a “hyping you up” sort of way—but this was different. he meant it.

so much so, in fact, it only takes him about three seconds to kiss you. it’s a long peck, mostly catching you by surprise, before he leans back with wide eyes and a dropped jaw.

“suguru—,”

“i’m so sorry, fuck,” he apologizes, paralyzed in place with his hands still gripping the counter. his eyes remain locked with yours, the fear of ruining your friendship behind them.

“suguru,” you repeat, bringing your hands up to the sides of his face. you rest them there firmly, feeling the increasing heat of his cheeks under your palms. pulling his face towards yours, you egg him on to kiss you again, this time with reciprocation on your part.

it’s hot, you’re swapping spit with the dark-haired man without a second thought, allowing your tongues to interlock and twist around each other. butterflies flutter in your tummy, but you swallow them and let yourself relax into it all.

the rest comes easily—all of that tension built up for years at this point is finally coming to a head, giving in to all of those desires you’d only had in the comfort of your bedroom. your arms rest over suguru’s shoulders, your hands tangle in his hair, while his hands come to squeeze you wherever he can grab—your waist, your ass—anywhere he can place his greedy fingers and grasp onto.

“let me—,” gasp, “—eat you out, please,” suguru begs in between kisses, barely allowing himself to heave for air.

those annoying butterflies pick up again—god, you could throw up at his suggestion—yet instead you’re pushing his head down, down, until he’s on his knees in front of you. your shorts are quickly tugged off along with your panties, leaving you in nothing but a big t-shirt on the counter of your tiny bathroom.

the room is filled with raw lust, as are suguru’s eyes when he finally gets a glimpse of your soaked heat. it’s a million times better than he could’ve imagined, no mental image could ever be like the real thing—warm, real and wet, right in front of his face; and all for him.

suguru starts off slow, littering small kisses along your inner thighs while parting your knees, until there’s enough room to fit his head closer to your cunt. he gives small kisses to your folds, barely suckling on your clit to pull small gasps of moans from your throat.

“fuck, suguru,” you whimper, running your fingers through his hair and giving a light tug.

“hmm?” he hums into your cunt, vibrating against your core in the most sinister way. your words are long forgotten after that, only giving a big sigh in response.

suguru’s tongue dips from between his lips to lick a long stripe up your cunt, going just a tad slower to focus on your clit. his tongue circles around and around the swollen bud, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your abdomen and down your legs.

already, you can feel that tiny knot begin to form the longer suguru goes on, becoming more intense by the second. he’s harsh, vulgar sucking and slurping sounding throughout the room. the counter below you is soaked in your arousal, as is the lower half of suguru’s face.

you’re just that messy—and he loves it.

he’s living for it.

suguru didn’t even realize how much he loved you—how much he adored and admired you, inside and out—until this. until he was down on his knees, in front of you, begging for you without any words coming out of his mouth. until he had finally allowed himself to look into your eyes deeper than ever before.

“i love you—mmph—so much,” suguru hums into your folds, just as he’s taking that knot to the verge of snapping.

“i-love-you-too-suguru, please don’t stop,” you mutter, throwing your head back against the mirror, before you can even realize what you’re saying back—but it all comes so naturally you don’t even think twice. it’s not even orgasm brain—it’s true, just as true as when he said it to you.

suguru’s tongue completely focuses on your clit—swirling around and sucking the swollen bud until you’re almost thrown over the edge, finally toppling over with a spew of ‘i love you’s and ‘please don’t stop’s. your body goes limp against the mirror of the bathroom, chest dramatically heaving for many moments while suguru helps you ride through the feeling. he stands up and wipes his face off with the back of his hand, smiling to himself at the vision of a fucked-out you who had just confessed your feelings to him.

one of your eyes finally creeps open after a few minutes, only to be met with suguru giving you a shit-eating grin, his hand resting atop your thigh. he can feel how delicate you are at the moment; he doesn’t want you to run away and lock him out of your life just because you told him how you feel—but you wouldn’t do that anyway.

 suguru confessed first, after all.

once again thank u all so much. i love u.

[stoopidpigeonxx]

⋆˚｡⋆୨✧୧˚ 𝑶 𝑪𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏, 𝑴𝒚 𝑪𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏. ˚୨✧୧⋆｡˚⋆

CAPTAIN CURLY SMUT HEADCANNONS !! NSFW under the cut. MDNI.

(These are all completely random, not tied to any prompt. I just want more stuff about this guy cuz I love him) Fandom/characters: Mouthwashing, Captain Curly, other characters briefly mentioned.

Content warning: Smut (obviously), p in v, curlys packing, title kink, thigh-riding, face-sitting, size difference, manhandling, reader is AFAB, creampie, multiple rounds, riding, cursing, J*mmy.

-He's a grower, not a shower.

I firmly believe Curly is a distinguished gentleman, unlike J*mmy who would most likely brag about how big he is and end up only being like, 5 or 6 inches. Curly, however, will not mention his size until you see it for yourself. And when he sees your face, he panics. "Oh-shit, uh- i-is it gonna be too big for you? It's okay if it is, I should've warned you.."

He's four inches soft, uncut. I think he keeps himself decently groomed. He's not completely bare, but it isn't a forest. He's got a little v-line that's only visible when he wears sweatpants that you go absolutely feral over. When he gets hard, whoo boy. 9 inches, throbbing. He's got a cute little vein near his tip that you like to attack when you're sucking him off because it makes his thighs shake. He's got a little bit of a mushroom tip, maybe more rounded. Perfect for hitting all those good spots inside you. In short, he's big. (he tucks it, that's why he doesn't have a bulge in his sprites. Also I'm sorry trans-Curly headcannon people ;-;)

-"Need a seat? I'll volunteer."

VEEEEEERRRYYY into face-sitting. Very. Like, the first thing he wants when you guys get freaky is for you to sit on his face. He's not exactly sure why he likes it, to be honest, he just loves the feeling of you absolutely lose yourself on his tongue. He isn't worried about suffocating or anything, since he's a lot bigger than you, so don't be afraid to ride his face! he can handle it! But seriously, use this guy as a seat. He'd give you a few licks up your slit at first to warm you up (again, gentleman) before going for your clit. And when he gets it, he sucks. Hard. He'd also probably sneak a finger or two inside you to add extra stimulation, because he really wants you to come on his face. He desperately yearns for the sound of you screaming his name as your juices cover his face and tongue, letting you ride your orgasm out before lifting you off his face and setting you down. "Alright, sweet-stuff, my turn. On your knees, please."

-Save a Polle, ride his big ass thighs.

So... we've all seen his sprite. He's thick as fuck. He's got a booty and bigger tits than me. But he also has deliciously large thighs.. so use that to your advantage, because he's totally down with it. He likes using it as foreplay to get you wet enough to take him, and he just likes the feeling. He'll probably give himself a hand while you're doing it, or he'll just watch and leave the touching to you.

He isn't much for public sex, but if you're really horny, he'll let you get high on his thigh over his uniform and gently praise you when you come. It gives him a little buzz to be doing something like that in a risky situation, like while he's in the cockpit sitting at the control panel, or even in the commons of the ship with Daisuke in a few rooms away. When you do come, which isn't that long after, he'll kiss you all over your face and head and twirl your hair in his fingers, using his other hand to rub your ass or back.

"There you go, sweetheart, that's a good girl. Good job."

-Sir yes sir.

I know, I know. He gets called 'Captain' and 'Sir' for his job. But if its coming from you when he's balls deep in you.. It's an entirely different reaction.

"D-did.. you just call me- mgh..- Captain?"

It makes him ferociously horny to hear that title slip from your lips, so pray you'll still walk tomorrow. "Ooh, fuck, yeahhh. Call me that again, baby. Call me that again.. Uh-huh. Captain takin' care of this pretty lil' pussy, huh.."

He doesn't dirty talk that explicitly, but you calling him captain gets his creative juices flowing. Oh, also his come. Yeah..

Its also perfect teasing material. You two couldn't even be getting it on, you'd just sneak up behind him and kiss him on the cheek and say "Morning, Captain!" In that tone you know drives him wild. Boom, hard. Poor guy.

-Yeehaw!

favorite position? Cowgirl. For many reasons. One, he loves looking at your face while you ride his cock. The noises, the facial expressions you make, the way your tits bounce up and down with your hips.. He wishes it was a renaissance painting to look at every morning. He also just likes being able to hold you easily. When you're on his lap, its easier for him to snake a hand up and hold your hair out of your face, or to give your ass gentle love taps (he would never spank you, unless asked to). He's a very hands-on guy and wants to touch you, everywhere he can.

Of course, he doesn't mind the occasional doggy, or missionary, or hell, even a Full Nelson, because you KNOW he's able to hold you like that. Manhandling comes naturally with Curly. Gently, of course. He would never hurt you.

-Gets a little messy.

Curly's no one pump chump. He'll go for hours. Even if he's came inside you at least five times, he'll keep going. He's got hella impressive stamina. His motivation? Seeing your cunt leaking his seed when he pulls out. He wants you to still find it in your underwear 3 days later. No hole goes unfilled. He's not exactly a breeder, per-say, though he definitely wouldn't complain about getting you pregnant, he just likes seeing you in a state. He thinks of it as artwork, leaving you so stuffed to the brim. The next day, he'd pull you aside and give you a quick finger-orgasm, just to see if his come's still in there. When it leaks onto his fingers along with your own, he's a very happy man. "Ahh, look at that. Still got it in ya. Should fill you up even more later, hm?"

oof. my hands hurt. ;-;

[madamechrissy]

Yandere Roomie Gojo

MDNI- NSFW- Satoru x you

CW: there is obviously yandere content here, look at the title lol. Videoing w/o consent, being psycho and controlling, oral sex (f recieving) breed kink like a MF, manipulation, reader rolls w/ it bc it's Gojo, don't read if you don't like darker things. Full Oneshot of this here

Yandere Roomie Gojo who may or may not have bribed your landlord to kick you out, just so you'd have to live with him, but don't worry, you're better off this way, he knows what's best for you!

Yandere Roomie Gojo who is your 'best friend' such a good friend that he drives you wherever you need to go, when your car keeps mysteriously breaking down (hmm, couldn't be him removing parts could it?)

Yandere Roomie Gojo who smiles and blinks his beautiful blue eyes on you when you show him your outfit for the night. 'oh, going out? where?' he asks so casually, you flush a bit as his eyes slowly asses your body, you wish he would ask you out, but you think you're probably just friends. 'a date.'

Yandere Roomie Gojo holds back his anger at the thought of anyone touching what must be his, but he puts on another bright smile, raising a thin white brow 'ya need a ride, sweets?' 'no, he's coming to get me, don't worry!'

Yandere Roomie Gojo surely can't just let you go on some date alone, what if something happens to you? Sure, he has a tracker on your phone, but he decides to follow you there, sitting in his fancy sports car as he spies on you, your date and you are sitting outside and having drinks, making him furious when the guy touches your thigh.

Yandere Roomie Gojo sees you tense a bit, staring at your phone, and the guy is getting too handsy, he sees your text then, and his heart thuds from his chest. Satoru, I'm so sorry are you busy? he needs no further reason to get out of his car, smiling and sauntering over, hands in the pockets of his slacks, as you look at him with shock, mouth wide open.

Yandere Roomie Gojo has you in his car next to him, you're torn between asking how he got there so fast and just being relieved he's here. 'Toru...' fuck that nickname ruins him. 'yeah, sweets?' You lean over and press a kiss on his cheek. 'thank you for coming to get me, I just... didn't like his vibe I guess'

Yandere Roomie Gojo has you back in his house now, you live in a fucking penthouse with this gorgeous, tall man, and the couple of drinks you've had loosen you up too much, Satoru wants to fuck you so hard you remember he owns you, but he needs it to be your idea, so he just kisses your forehead. 'get some sleep'

Yandere Roomie Gojo is stroking his cock as he watches you strip in your room, of course he has cameras in there, you're being stubborn so far and won't let him see what's his. You sit on your bed then, in some lacy slutty panties and a bra, spreading your thighs and thinking of him, of Satoru, slipping your fingers down your slick cunt, playing with your throbbing clit now, all while Satoru watches, fucking into his hand and picturing you.

Yandere Roomie Gojo hears you cry out his name then, clear as day, blinking rapidly, your fingers are pushing in and out of your little hole, you're not trying to be quiet either, and then he can't fucking take it, it's like you're facing the camera on purpose but you couldn't know. he continues to watch you until he can't take it, slipping up his boxers and walking to your door.

Yandere Roomie Gojo realizes you left the door unlocked, and you gasp when he enters, but you don't cover yourself up at all, no you spread your thighs, revealing your soaked panties your little hand has slipped under. Satoru glares at you now. 'what are you doing, huh? playing with what's mine?' You tremble a bit, sucking yourself off your finger then. 'then show me, Satoru'

Yandere Roomie Gojo doesn't realize how badly you've wanted him, and how you've noticed some things, you noticed the little camera in your room last week, and you got off on him watching you. You know he's probably fucking up your car, and you didn't even wanna go on that date, but it's all to get him to finally drop his act, and drop it he does, when he kisses you over your lacy panties, tongue lapping at you now.

Yandere Roomie Gojo has his hair being pulled by you, fingers enwrapping in silky white locks, as you yank him against you, crying out while he's making your flimsy barrier nothing. He rips them off you then, revealing your soaking wet cunt. 'show you that you're mine, all mine, pussy only will be touched by me, got it baby?' you just nod eagerly, earning his sadistic laugh as he swipes his tongue up your slit, making juices pool from your little hole.

Yandere Roomie Gojo devours your pussy in the quiet room, filled with the sounds of his slurping, your squelching wetness and both of your moans then. He sucks your clit in his hot mouth, blue eyes looking under snowy lashes while you fall apart for him, drenching his face with your arousal, which he laps up every fucking bit, until he leans up smirking, shoving two fingers in your tight hole, whsipering 'never fucking anyone else, got me baby?'

Yandere Roomie Gojo is curling his long fingers in your gummy walls, pressing that spot that blinds you, you cling to him, back arching, he yanks your tits out with his other hand, they bounce gently as he smacks them then. 'Answer me, now' 'only want you, Satoru... I already know you... w-want me...' he glares, leaning over you, so big and intimidating, as he's scissoring his fingers in your sloppy cunt. 'what's that now? can't hear you over your slutty pussy'

Yandere Roomie Gojo watches as your eyes roll back in your skull, watches you twitch as you soak his hand. 'I know, Toru... I know you w-watch me, psycho' he snorts then, yanking his fingers out, making you whine 'n-no, more please!' he shoves his fingers in your mouth, watching you suck your juices off them eagerly. 'you get off on it, me being fucking obsessed, huh?' you nod weakly, and Satoru has your thighs spread and pressed up, his tip drooling precum against your aching hole. 'then let me be clear, you'll never see or date anyone again, got it?'

Yandere Roomie Gojo grins as you weakly nod, filling your tight hole in one stroke, stuffing you so full you scream out, pussy gripping him like a vise, drooling down his veiny cock to his balls, pooling under you. He loses his contol then, gripping your thighs and leaning over you, blue eyes dilated and fucking insane as he fucks into you, slamming your poor cervix as you try to wriggle, you can't even breathe, he's everywhere. 'this what you wanted, me to show you how much I want you?' 'show me, please'

Yandere Roomie Gojo fucks you so hard you couldn't care less about how insane he is, not when he's got you on your tummy, filling you prone bone, not when he's cumming so deep and filling your cunt, and certainly not when he's got you on his face, his cum and yours pooling as he laps you up. And definitely not when he's using you like his little fuckdoll, slamming up into your eager hole, smirking as he watches the bulge in your tummy, the way your cute fucked out face looks, the tears of overstimulation in your eyes.

Yandere Roomie Gojo lets you know then 'gonna breed this pussy, put babies in you, k-keep you here with me' you should probably be scared, but it's Satoru Gojo saying it, and you just whimper in response, while he fills you again and again, to the point you're passing out from so much pleasure, and he's still pushing you further, like he's not even human.

Yandere Roomie Gojo the next day is back to being sweet it seems, smiling and having made you breakfast, you wince as you sit down, aching and throbbing all over. You nibble on it, humming to yourself, then see your phone unlocked on the counter. 'you have my phone, Toru?' 'yeah sweets, period tracker. threw out those birth control pills too, don't worry. also... do you need that job anymore?'

Yandere Roomie Gojo watches the shock on your pretty face, but you soon forget it when he's got you spread wide on the kitchen table, plates clattered to the floor, and he's laughing at your poor puffy lips, your abused little hole. 'mine' he murmurs, as he eats his breakfast, you.

Gojo drabbles here - Gojo long oneshots here

Being yandere isn't cool unless you're Gojo, that's the PSA

Perma tags- @alt--er--love @seeing-stars-alt @nanasukii28 @labelt-san @makingtimemine @cuntphoric 🩵 perma tag for gojo: @haruhatake @strychnynegirl @chiyokoemilia 🩵

request from @watermelonslut but I made him yandere lol

[swordsandholly]

Double Date - Double Down

NSFW | MDNI

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem!plus size!reader

Word count: 4.9k

Summary: When you get a call in the middle of the afternoon from your friend begging you to fill an empty spot on a double date your initial instinct is a hard no. After all, no one wants to go on a blind double date and be surprised by the fat friend. It doesn’t help that this Simon guy is stupid fucking hot and obviously doesn’t like you - if his lack of talking is anything to go by.

A/N: Just a fun little oneshot I used as a warmup between working on chapters of future multi chapter projects.

“I said *no*.” You snap, angrily folding the washcloth in your hands.

Your friend splutters from the other side of the phone, the desperation in her voice only growing now that she’s on her fourth ask. “*Pleeeaase*! Steph backed out last minute and no one else is free-“

“How do you know I’m free?”

“You just said you were!”

You huff. She’s got you there. When she first called, you admitted you didn’t have anything going on but that was *before* she told you the plan for the night. Before she mentioned that her very, very conventionally hot military boyfriend wanted to do a little double date with his friend and one of hers. Plus, you take a least a little offense to being second choice. Really, last choice, it seems.

“Cass, you can’t just set up a blind date and take your fat friend. That’s not-“

“You’re not fat, love. You’re beautiful.” Her words drip with turned honey. You make a gagging face to yourself in the mirror. “You just need more confidence!”

You sigh loudly, pinching the bridge of your nose. You could try, for the millionth time, to explain to her the nuanced ins and outs of dating as a fat woman. The rules and stats that could rival even the most complex rpg… or you could be petty. It takes less time to be petty. “If I go, you’re paying for my drinks.”

“Johnny’s friend will probably-“

“Yeah, and when he leaves you’re paying for my tab.”

“He won’t-“

“We got a deal?”

She clicks her tongue. “*Fiiiine*.”

At least you can get wasted for free either way. A small consolation. She texts you the time and location, barely leaving you with enough time to shower and turn yourself into something presentable. Not that you really care. It’s going to be shit either way, most likely. Staring yourself down in the mirror, you suppose you could at least try to look somewhat attractive. If you’re about to get rejected (or possibly shouted at, you’ll never forget *that* horrendous interaction) you might as well feel your best.

The pub is small as you push through the front door. Casual. A couple pool tables, some darts, a large bar and few booths with stools on the outer side. You scan the room, searching for Cass’s familiar face.

“Over here!” Cass waves with a wide arc at you, a grin plastered from ear to ear. At least she’s having fun.

You take a long breath, bracing yourself for whatever is about to happen. Cass introduces you to her boyfriend - who is somehow even hotter in person. You can see why she’s so smitten with him. Johnny looks you up and down as he shakes your hand. He doesn’t comment, or make a face, or really react in any particular way, but you can feel a shift. Something in his eyes…

Maybe it’s just your imagination. You’ve always been a little over sensitive.

“Si will be back in a sec. Stepped over tae get a drink.” He flashes a grin.

You hum, quietly folding your hand as Cass pushes a cocktail for you that she preemptively ordered. Criticize her as much as you like, she knows her mixes.

“There he is.” Johnny grins, turning slightly.

You follow his gaze, heart sinking as your eyes settle on the man approaching your table. He’s massive. Tall and wide. Total brick shithouse. His face is mostly covered by a black surgical mask. A few years ago you might have questioned it but at this point you couldn’t care less, especially when his dark eyes meet yours, small flecks of gold honey catching the low bar lights. Barely styled tufts of blonde hair stick up from his head. They look like they might curl if he let it grow a little longer.

All in all, wayyyy out of your league.

He settles into his seat with all the confidence of any military man - back ramrod straight. He extends a large hand. “Simon Riley.”

You murmur your name, somewhat enthralled by the half lidded, almost bored look in his eyes. Now that he’s closer you notice a large scar splitting his left eyebrow and light, newly forming crows feet in the corners of his eyes.

“S-so you’re military, too?” You stutter, eyes trained on his the massive hand holding his glass. It’s nicely vascular, his nails are well groomed but it also looks like he could snap you in half with it.

Not that that’s entirely a bad thing - whatever that may or may not say about you.

He nods. “I’m a Lieutenant.”

“Oh! Officer position. So you’re smart, then?” You try to be charming, to give him a sweet smile and keep your body language open.

“Enough.” He deadpans. It takes a few beats for you to realize he’s not going to say anything else.

“Uh…” You squirm awkwardly under his gaze. It’s intense - his dark eyes nearly black in the low light of the bar. “I do hair.”

Conversation is slow, to say the least. The longest answer he gives you is maybe five words. He only flips up the mask long enough to take a sip of his drink every so often. You start to talk less, opting toward a group conversation in which Johnny takes the lead, which he is obviously very good at. He regales you and Cass with a few stories of his and Simon’s adventures. Some funny, some brave, some worrying. He’s setting the man up to be a god, nearly, but Simon himself just shakes his head and insists Johnny is exaggerating.

You wonder what he sees in Simon. Alternatively, you wonder what *you’re* supposed to see in Simon. Besides his good looks, of course. He’s… bland. Obviously bored if his constant glances toward the exits and rhythmic, occasional tapping on the corner of the table are anything to go by.

“Want tae go dance, lovie?” You overhear Johnny as he leans in toward Cass.

She glances at you, then Simon, then back to you before nodding enthusiastically. “We’ll give you two some time *alone*.”

In any other situation, you’d probably beg her to stay in desperation for a conversation buffer. Here and now, though, you’re grateful. You can finally let this poor guy off the hook. You wait until they’re gone; fully out of earshot before turning to the man in front of you.

“I…uh… look…” You chew your lip, glancing between him and your folded hands on the table. “Sorry… I know I’m probably not what, uh, what you expected… I get it if you want to leave. It’s - you don’t have to stay, or whatever. Don’t have to be polite…”

He cocks an eyebrow, eyes boring through your skull. “Why would I want to leave?”

“I know what I look like. You don’t have to be nice.”

His raised brow turns into a slight frown. “I think you’re quite pretty.”

You scoff - blushing despite yourself. “Again, you don’t have to be nice.”

“Do I seem like the type to just be nice?”

You continue to gnaw at your lip. He’s got you there. Simon definietly doesn’t come off as the type to bow to polite society. “You’ve barely talked to me.”

He stares for a moment. It’s his turn to avert his eyes, swirling around the whiskey in his glass awkwardly. Almost bashfully. “It’s not you. I’m… not great in public… especially in crowds…”

Oh.

*Oh*.

You’ve completely misjudged him, haven’t you? Shit. He’s just a big awkward lug isn’t he?You sigh, rubbing your temple. “Oh God, *I’m* the asshole, aren’t I?”

He chuckles, “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“I’m sorry it’s just…” you scrub a hand over your face. “Most men don’t really want to be surprised with a fat girl on a blind date. Guess I assumed the worst.”

Simon hums. A low vibration that settles into your bones. He gets up, sliding into the booth side of the table beside you - his massive frame pushing into your space. He smells like spices. Cinnamon and pepper. A little hint of leather and tobacco underneath. It’s heady, and some primal part of your mind wishes you could roll around in it like a dog.

“Some men might like a waifish little thing, that’s their business, but personally…” He leans in, a large hand resting on your wide thigh. “Yeah. I like somethin’ I can get a proper handful of.”

“*Oh*.” You squeak, back stiff. Was that what you saw in Johnny’s face before? Approval?

“‘Ere’s a thought - we go back to mine. S’quiet. Can talk more freely. See where the night goes, hm?”

You smile hesitantly, finally looking up to meet his gaze. It’s honest. Kind. Dark pools of sincerity. It’s against your better judgement. Impractical. Out of character. Even so, you allow yourself to surrender with a warmth in your cheeks and a small nod.

“I’ll get an Uber.” He pulls out his phone, tapping away. “Five minutes out.”

“Want to wait outside?” You offer, nodding toward the front entrance. Simon just nods, following you out close behind. Neither of you say much of anything while you wait, but you watch him out of the corner of your eye. He taps on his leg a few times in much the same way as he did on the table.

He dutifully opens the car door for you, letting you slide in before climbing in beside you, long legs slightly cramped in the small sedan.

“You don’t live on base?” You ask as the Uber drives away from the infamous military housing. You’d been there once or twice - a while ago when you were younger and messier.

“S’too loud.” He shrugs. “Too crowded.”

“Well, at least you’re consistent.” You smile.

Simon hums, resting his hand on your thigh once again. It’s casual, not too high up or too much pressure. Not presumptuous.

“How’d Johnny get you out there in the first place? If you’re so *averse*.” You tilt your head.

He shrugs, “Was supposed to be another Sergeant we work with but I guess he cancelled. No one else was free.”

“Ah, so we’re both last choices, then.”

“Yeah?”

“Made Cass promise me free drinks if I came.”

“Smart girl.” He chuckles, holding out a hand to help you up out of the car upon your arrival. His hand is warm when you take it, and a small part of you feels disappointed when he lets go.

The building is small. Old. All red brick with a thirty year old intercom and an elevator that you’re pretty sure hasn’t been inspected since the place was built. About halfway down the hall, you start to second guess yourself. You don’t know a thing about this guy - you don’t know what’s going to happen as soon as you get on the other side of his door. His weird, bright red door. Wait - why is this whole floor covered in red doors?

“Alright?” He grunts, back turned to you as he wrestles with the lock.

“Uh - why is your floor color themed?”

Simon laughs, wide shoulders shaking with the movement. It’s a low sound, something that vibrates in his chest. Makes you want to press your ear to it, see how it feels. If it will reverberate into your bones as well. “The old lady that owns the building is a bit… unique. Likes to talk about colors and karma and destiny stuff.”

“Ah.” You nod, as if that makes any sense at all. “So you’re red?”

“Apparently.”

His apartment is actually quite homey, as you step into it. From a stiff military man like him you expected something akin to an ikea floor model. Instead it’s furnished with a well worn, green couch. A large TV with an extremely up-to date surround sound system and an entertainment center filled to the brim with CDs sits against the wall. A few movie posters fill the walls. All horror classics - you count three of the scream movies. The first two final destination. There are condensation rings on the coffee table.

Behind you, you hear the door lock and unlock three times, but you don’t pay it much mind.

“Want a drink?” Simon asks, already popping open a decanter full of something gold on a small drink cart beside the kitchen island.

“Sure.” The agreement is automatic - blurted out before you can second guess taking a drink from a total stranger.

You watch a little too closely as he takes off his light jacket, exposing his strong arms and a half sleeve tattoo. It’s a bit tacky, all skulls and military symbols. The black ink has been sun worn over time. The motif of a young getting his first tattoo after enlisting. He settles down on the couch with the decanter and two glasses, patting the spot beside him. You plop down. It’s pretty comfortable, honestly.

His fingers loop into the mask’s straps. You find yourself watching with wide eyes and bated breath as he removes it. His nose is crooked - broken more than a couple times, you think. There’s a scar running from his nose to upper lip that could only come from a cleft palette. It’s charming, in a way. When he turns toward you, you notice a patch on the side of his face that looks like a rather large burn all the way down to his sharp jaw. The roughness of him works, somehow. The scars and tattoos and choppy hair all coming together to create the visage of a life hard lived.

“You’re really pretty…” the words slip from your tongue before you can stop them.

Simon splutters out a laugh, the slightest hint of color appearing across his cheeks. “Didn’t take you for a flatterer.”

“I’m not.” You huff before nodding toward the posters. “Horror fan?”

He hums, passing you a glass. “Are you a fan? Of horror, I mean.”

“Found footage!” You grin a little too excited. “It’s the best genre.”

“Terrible taste.” He scoffs.

“Wrong! Found footage can be anything you want it to be - slasher, thriller, mystery, mocumentary. Anything.”

“Which makes them messy.” He argues. “Anyone can make one.”

“Yeah! Theres so many hidden gems out there.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Oh, I’ll put you on them. We just need to get you a good one.”

“Askin’ me on a second date already, love?”

“Oh, fuck off.” You shove at his shoulder. He was right, it is so much easier to talk freely out of the bar. Away from everyone and everything. His posture is far more relaxed, laid back into the couch with his hips canted forward rather than stiff as a board.

“We could watch one now?” He offers. If you were more sober, you might have heard the twinge of pleading in his voice. As it stands you’ve already drained the glass he gave you and are perfectly buzzed enough to be ignorant to the subtler parts of communication.

How convenient.

“Okay.” You whisper.

After a bit of debating back and forth you settle on Hell House. After all, it’s been your tried and true method for getting anyone and everyone into the genre. You don’t notice it, at first, but you slowly begin to scoot closer to him as you fold your knees up on the couch. Eventually, tucking yourself under his arm sling across the back cushions. Between him and the drinks - which you’re pretty sure is a rather fancy bourbon - you feel what could only be described as snuggly. Limbs loose and pliant, smile easy and words flowing as you cheer and jeer at the characters together.

At some point, Simon’s dark eyes meet between yours. You lean in, so does he. Inch by inch until your lips meet. It’s tentative, at first. Testing the waters. His lips are soft and move expertly against yours. You part for him has his tongue darts across your lower lip.

It’s easier than it usually is for you. Easy to let him pull you over his lap. To rest your hands on his broad shoulders as you take each other in. Normally, you’re not a person for one night stands. A commitment kind of gal. You can’t exactly say no, though, when you have a beautiful man’s hands traveling over your body like it’s the only thing in the world worth paying attention to right now.

He breaks the kiss just long enough to grunt, “Bedroom?”

“*Yes*.” You gasp between kisses.

Suddenly those large hands grasp under your ass as you’re hauled up. You grapple to hold onto the back of his neck, keeping your weight forward.

“Simon!”

“Yes, love?” He asks as if he didn’t just life you like a sack of potatoes.

“A-aren't I heavy?” You question as he makes his way through the apartment, peppering kisses over your neck and jaw.

“No.” He replies bluntly. Like what you asked was stupid.

You’re placed on a bed with all the gentleness of a rare china plate- one hand cradling your upper back and the other tucked under your thighs. There isn’t any time to take in the room before Simon is kissing you again but you do count approximately five pillows and zero navy sheets.

That shouldn’t be as hot as it is.

Simon leans in close, nose ever so slightly bumping yours. “Before we keep going, I want to establish a rule. Red light means stop. At any time, for any reason.”

You can’t help but smile. “Okay.”

“Say it back, doll.”

“Red light means stop.” You reach up and cup his face. So handsome. So warm.

“Good girl.” He murmurs. “Let’s get these off, hm?” Simon pulls your clothes off deftly - dragging those rough palms over your skin as he moves and kneading at the plushness of your hips appreciatively.

You reach up to tug at his shirt. “S’not fair if I’m the only one naked.”

Simon chuckles and hastily sits back to yank the shirt over his head, giving a lovely show in the process. You think this what people mean when they talk about an Adonis. There’s a comfortable soft layer of his strong abdomen. Something you want to sink your teeth into. Your fingers trace each dip and curve of his muscles, the lovely shape of his pectorals, the raised scars littering his body. Floral shapes from bullets along with slashes and smaller jabs. A particularly nasty one runs down his side, coving his ribs. A burn, you think.

“You’re beautiful.” You murmur. Definitely out of your fucking league. You move to sit up, reaching for his waistband.

His hand pushes your shoulder back on the bed. “Let me take care of you tonight, bird.”

Your face warms. Simon kisses your cheek, continuing down to your chest and taking one of your nipples in his mouth. Gently sucking and nipping at it while flicking the other with his hand. A shameful whimper escapes your throat.

Simon leans up to murmur in your ear, “What do you want, sweet girl?”

“Want you to fuck me…” You murmur, embarrassment making you want to close your legs. His solid hips block you.

“Oh, I will, but first I want those beautiful thighs wrapped around my head.” Simon continues to place kisses down your body, over your stomach, stopping right at your panty line and tracing along it with rough fingers. His arms circle your thighs and in one swift motion your hips teeter on the edge of the bed, Simon kneeling between them. His fingers hook in the waistband of your underwear.

“W-wait…” You sit up on your elbows.

He freezes, looking up at you.

“I, uh, I haven’t exactly *landscaped* in a while… wasn’t really planning-“

Simon huffs out a laugh. “I’m a grown man, love. You think a little bush is gonna scare me off?”

All thoughts related to anything within the proximity of embarrassment come to an instant halt as Simon’s lips wrap around your clit- sucking and nipping and lapping like a man starved. Like he’d die without it. A low groan rumbles through his throat.

“F-fuck!” You gasp, whimpers and moans interrupting any chance you may have at putting words together.

“Taste so fucking good, princess.” He mumbles against you. A shaky moan rattles through you as he pushes a thick finger in, working it gently. His other than grips your hip tightly, pinning you in place. The pet-name sends a shiver down your spine - leaving you rolling your hips and clenching on the finger inside you.

“Fuck, Si…” You gasp, tangling your fingers in his hair.

“I can tell your close, baby.” Simon groans. “Cum for me. Come on, be a good girl and cum all over my fucking tongue.”

The bastard knows the power he has in that voice. He *has* to. That baritone gravel sinks in your veins and all you can do is whimper. Panting pathetically the closer you get. His fingers curl up and your back arches harshly as your climax washes over you. Your legs tremble as he works you through it; stopping just shy of pushing you too far.

“Hey!” You gasp indignantly as a jolt shoots up your spine as he settles a final, harsh suck on your clit.

Simon taps your hip, climbing back over you as you scoot up on the bed. He carelessly kicks off his pants as he goes, toeing them off before settling between your legs. Those dark eyes rake over you leisurely - taking in every inch. Every curve and dip and flaw categorically. He sucks in a breath and sighs. “Bloody ‘ell, look at you… so fuckin’ pretty.”

Your face heats and you look away. “Who’s the flatterer now?”

“Not me. Just bein’ honest.” He places a quick kiss to your soft jawline before reaching over to dig through his nightstand drawer. You don’t miss the gold foil of the condom wrapper.

You can’t stop yourself from licking your lips as he pulls off his boxer briefs. Simon is uncut, already ruddy and leaking and just begging for your mouth. Maybe next time, though. He’s already slipped on the condom, carefully hooking one of your legs over his shoulder and the other around his hip. The man has a laser-focus to him, you’ll give him that.

“Still want t’ keep goin’?” He mumbles, eyes locked on his cock as is drags between your folds.

“*Please*.” You whine pathetically. Simon’s chuckle turns into a gasp as he presses in. It’s achingly slow and you roll your hips in demand for more.

Simon lets out a low groan as his hips meet yours. The stretch is perfect - just enough to feel completely full without pushing you too far. As though your bodies were made to slot together just so. Your head falls back, chest heaving as you beg him to move, to fuck you, just *please* for the love of god-

“Needy little thing.” He gives you a sloppy smile before setting a brutal pace. You find yourself clawing at his back, clinging to him as your back arches and the most obscene sounds are systematically torn from your throat. The angle he has your hips placed causes his cock to bully that sensitive spot inside you - dragging over it with every thrust.

Simon leans toward, bracing himself on his forearms and pinning you under him as he fucks into you. “So fuckin’ good f’me. Knew you would be. So soft and sweet and goddamn *pretty*.”

“*Fuck, Simon*.” You gasp, nose bumping against his as your lips intertwine. Breaths and moans intermingle as you both chase that edge. There’s nothing else, in this moment, just you and Simon and the sounds only he has ever managed to pull from you.

Your orgasm hits you like a train. Out of nowhere and all at once, tensing every muscle into a trembling mess as you clamp down around his cock. Simon sinks his teeth into your neck as his own climax takes him, cradling you close and moaning out your name so muddled you almost miss it.

For a few moments, you stay frozen in place trying to catch your breath as you come down. Your limbs feel like jelly when you finally try to move, body limp and pliable. It almost feels like a loss as he pushes off of you, leaving you open and vulnerable to the cool night air while he ties off the condom.

“Be right back.” He murmurs, slowly climbing off you and heading for an attached bathroom off to the left.

You let your eyes slipped closed only to jump and shoot back open as a dap rag drags between your thighs. A little yelp escapes you as the rough material drags across your oversensitive clit. Simon chuckles at you, tossing the rag back somewhere in the bathroom before crawling into the bed beside you. It’s so easy to curl into his chest and let those strong arms encircle you.

“Have fun, love?” Simon murmurs into your hair.

You just hum happily, smiling against his hard chest.

“Good.”

It’s just as easy as the rest of it to fall asleep like that. To seek out the warmth of his body in your satiated haze and press into him, allowing the night and rhythmic beating of his heart to overtake you. You feel four small taps between your shoulder blades just before tipping over the edge into comfortable nothing.

You wake slowly to an empty bed. The light from the window above you streams in - bathing the room in a light golden tone. It’s cozy. The blankets seem to pull you in, keeping you snugly in place. Distantly, you hear the sound of pots and pans clinking.

Shockingly, you’re not hungover. Well, not much at least. There’s a slight twinge in your head and a not unpleasant soreness in your hips. You dig around, finding your clothes strewn across the room haphazardly. Your underwear are nowhere to be found and you eventually give up with a shrug. They weren’t one of your best pairs anyway.

When you come out of the bedroom, you pause. Simon stands in the kitchen, working on something over the stove wearing only a pair of sweatpants. They hang loosely around his hips, showing off the rises and dips of his strong muscles and well defined waist. This scene somehow feels too intimate despite your activities the night before.

“Perfect timing.” Simon turns, placing a plate down on the kitchen island. The omelette before you looks immaculate, all the way down to a light garnish on top.

Your eyes turn to saucers. “You…you made me breakfast?”

“Course.” He nods sharply as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. As if *not* doing so would be some sort of affront. Either you’re still asleep and this is all a dream or you stumbled upon the perfect man through pure happenstance.

He turns the stove off and on and off twice before standing at the counter across from you while you sit on one of the stools at the island. It’s a comfortable silence as you both eat. Simon keeps glancing up at you as if waiting for your disapproval. Boyish, somehow, despite the size and breadth of him.

It’s perfect. The eggs practically melt in your mouth and the goat cheese and vegetables taste fresh. You can’t help but him happily as you eat.

By the time you’re done, you think you might be a little in love.

Maybe you should text Cass and thank her or something. Maybe a gift basket. “Oh. My phone’s dead.”

“Didn’t charge it before y’left last night?” Simon cocks an eyebrow, chewing on his last bite.

You snort. “It was last minute, remember?”

“What if I’d been some sort of psycho? What was your plan?” He grins as he takes your empty plate. If you were a more impulsive woman you may have gone so far as to lick the damn thing.

“Are you a psycho?”

“Not generally, no.”

“Well then, nothing to worry about.” You grin, watching a little too happily as he rinses down the dishes and loads the dishwasher.

Simon just scoffs at you.

You glance at the time above the stove, disappointment settling deep in your chest. “Shit. I should get going.”

“I’ll get you a cab.” Simon offers automatically, reaching for his phone.

You shift side to side, twiddling your thumbs. “Y’know… we never finished the movie…”

Simon cocks and eyebrow. From the pleased smirk on his face you can tell he knows what you’re implying. He still patiently waits for you to say it out loud.

“Would, uh, would you want to exchange numbers? Maybe… meet up… again…?” Your voice is more timid than you’d like. This fear of rejection is new. Being rejected is nothing new for you, so why does it suddenly feel so high stakes with this one guy you barely know?

You don’t miss the way his eyes light up ever so slightly at the question. “I’d love to.”

[l13]

cw: nsfw! 18+ mdni, f!reader

BEST FRIEND'S DAD!CLARK KENT who has to subtly give you a once over when Jon introduces you as his best friend from uni. Has to try not to smile as you stare at him dreamily. Who feels strangely satisfied when you manage to say “Pleasure to meet you, sir.” Bf's dad, Clark, who tilts his head to the side just the slightest bit, and offers you his hand as if you weren't eye fucking him just now, “Pleasure's all mine, sweetheart.”

Bf’s dad, Clark, who always greets you with a big smile when you come over.

Bf’s dad Clark, who holds the car door open for you when he drops you off at your house late at night.

Bf’s dad, Clark, who’s so easy to talk to. Who listens carefully whenever you speak, always holding eye-contact. Who despite his size, is an absolute sweetheart. All wide eyes and dimples.

Bf’s dad, Clark, who the waiter mistakes for your boyfriend when taking your order, Jon conveniently timed to have been in the bathroom. Clark’s eyes widen comically, ears and cheekbones turning a lovely shade of red, as he waves his hands lowly, “Oh we’re not-” “So what’ll you have, honey?” your voice cuts him off, eyes still on the menu as you flip through it. When Clark doesn’t answer, you look up at him, raising your eyebrows and biting back a smile. 

You were enjoying this, he realized.

Bf’s dad, Clark, who can’t look at you in the eyes ever since. Who fidgets when you enter the room, making up any excuse to leave just to avoid thinking about you in that way. Because he does think about you. A lot. How couldn’t he? With your glitter covered eyes, lip gloss stained lips, and short skirts? He was a goner. He’d rather kick a wall than have to watch you reapply your lip gloss for the nth time. 

Bf’s dad Clark who has to pause his reading, glasses hanging from the bridge of his nose when you come over all giddy after a nail appointment, nails painted milky white, bows and other trinkets decorating them. Who has to hum and nod when you show them to him, acting as if he isn’t imagining your pretty hands around his cock. “Mm. Very pretty,” 

Bf’s dad, Clark, who has to watch you put cream on your legs while you’re all watching a movie. As if it's very common to do so in front of your best friend's dad. He thinks it shouldn’t be as erotic as it looked. Clark tries hard to keep his eyes glued on the tv and not stare at the way you sensually rub your hands up and down your thighs and calves.

Bf’s dad Clark who stiffens up, when Jon claims that “your legs are so sticky after though,” because how would his son know that?

Bf's dad Clark, who tosses and turns all night, trying to think back to all your past encounters, trying to pierce together how he missed the fact that you and Jon were dating. Because if you were, he was downright fucked.

Bf's dad Clark, who slowly starts getting mad at his son for not making it more obvious. For not kissing you whenever he saw you, not offering to drive you home, not treating you right. Clark who groans lowly and runs a hand down his face when he realizes that he's jealous of his own son.

Bf’s dad Clark who corners Jon the next morning, asking him all sorts of questions. “We’re obviously dating dad, I thought you knew..?”

Bf's dad, Clark who turns rigid, raising his voice at Jon for the first time in his life, still trying to be quiet for your sake, as you’re still sleeping upstairs. Whose fury isn't pointed to the fact that you and his son were dating, but more so to the fact that Jon didn’t pamper you enough. Didn’t give you any extra attention, didn’t spoil you like you deserved. And poor Jon has to hear his dad tell him to “Be a good boyfriend, I taught you better than that.”

Bf’s dad Clark, who gives his son a pointed look  when you finally come down to eat, yawning as you grab some cereal. Who has to watch his son turn and give you a quick peck on the lips, and then continue eating as if nothing happened. Has to watch you blink twice in surprise before shrugging and going back to your own food. 

Bf’s dad Clark who regrets telling his son to be more physical with you because he almost breaks a glass in his hands when he sees his son hugging you from behind one evening.

Bf's dad Clark, who clenches his jaw when you announce that you're going to leave and Jon jumps up to escort you, and walk you home. Clark who so badly wants to insist that he can take you home. That it's too cold out to walk, that a drive would be better. Clark who keeps his mouth shut instead.

Bf’s dad Clark who wants to curse Jon for inviting you over to their summer house. Clark who has to watch you walk around with your tiny bikini, skin still glistening when you get out of the pool. Clark who clenches his jaw tight and looks the other way when you offer to help Jon put some sunscreen on. 

Bf’s dad Clark who finds you in the kitchen that same night, swallowing hard as he watches you take a bite of a strawberry you were holding, claiming you were craving something sweet. 

Bf’s dad Clark who fucks you right against the counter you were leaning against, who has to hold his hand over your mouth as he circles his hips against you, his cock snug inside your tight cunt. Clark who melts when you give him an open-mouthed kiss, begging him to take you to bed. To his bed.

Bf’s dad Clark who can’t find himself worrying about the creaking of his bed when you’re riding him so well. Clark who hisses, and whose eyes roll back when you graze your nails against his pecs. Who has to fight the urge to bend you over and fuck you till you’re crying, has to remind himself that you’d definitely wouldn't be quiet then, when you’re barely keeping it together now. Clark who pulls you skin tight against him, who loves to feel your moans and whimpers against his lips.

Bf’s dad Clark, who wakes up the next day with you in his arms, swears he’d never slept so soundly in his life. Bf’s dad Clark who presses kisses all over your face, who later fucks you in the shower, and despite not wanting to ruin the moment, has to say something,

“Fuck, we can’t do this again. You’re dating my son, for God’s sake-”

“Clark. Jon is gay.”

oh.

2024 © l13 | Do not steal, copy, edit, translate or re-post any of my works.

[luvnette]

-𝐶𝑜𝑤𝑔𝑖𝑟𝑙!𝑆𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑘𝑎 𝑁𝑆𝐹𝑊 𝐴𝑙𝑝ℎ𝑎𝑏𝑒𝑡-

𝑃𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: Cowgirl!Sevika x Fem!Reader

𝐶𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡/𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: NSFW, mdni, gentle and rough sex, aftercare, idk what to put here- if there’s a letter that u don’t like, you don’t have to read it<3

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

She’s so, so sweet. She’ll help you calm down from your sex-high, gently fondling your trembling body. If your lovemaking was messy, she’d clean the both of you with a cloth and some warm water.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Cowgirl!Sevika really likes her muscles in general. She thinks that they’re not like men’s since they’re a little more chubby, and she worked hard to get them.

On you, it’s your thighs and your tummy. She loves to cover them in kisses and hickeys- and cum. But she could get off to any part of your body, legs, tits, hands- you name it.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

This woman LOVES to eat, spread and play with juices, no matter if they’re her own or yours. She will make sure the sex you have is messy and I will die on this hill.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

She would really like to fuck you on her horse enjoying the sunset together, her sitting behind you in the saddle, eagerly fingering your tight walls, your juices staining the leather while she coos sweet praises in your ear.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Before Cowgirl!Sevika met you, she used to flirt with a bunch of hookers at saloons, eventually finding a hidden spot to have a quicky. She might not be the most experienced person, but she definitely knows how to make you see stars (and she’s more than happy to learn).

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Cowgirl!Sevika loves the basic stuff- Scissoring, 69, dry humping, face sitting or tribbing. With a strap on it’s either (reverse) cowgirl, doggy, missionary or spooning. She’s also a huge fan of anal.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

It depends on why you’re having sex- if she’s punishing or brat taming you she’s obviously more serious. But when you’re just lovemaking and something silly happens, sure- she’ll let out a few chuckles.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

She doesn’t give a shit about her or her partners pubic hair. She has a full and surprisingly soft bush and a happy trail. The colour is slightly browner than the one on her head.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Again, it depends on the context. She’s normally rather gentle since she’s so big, unless you’re both in the mood for something rougher.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

She used to do it a lot when she was younger and single, but she’s not really able to relax while masturbating anymore. She always feels guilty to jerk off to you without actually pleasing you.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Cowgirl!Sevika has quite a few kinks and fetishes: mommy kink, breeding kink, pregnancy kink, age play, orgasm control, cum play, gagging, choking, spanking, praise kink and a small piss kink (as long as it’s squirt).

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

She prefers it quiet and intimate in your shared bed rather than taking a risk of being caught somewhere in an alley (she can’t help it if she’s drunk though). Sometimes, you two take a little trip to a really pretty spot she found, a small lake surrounded by nature. She’ll set up a tent and make out with you in the water on hot summer nights.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

To be honest, everything. You’re cooking/baking and stirring? Be prepared for her to thrust her hips against your ass. You’re crocheting something? How dare you turn her on like that?! The one thing that really drives her wild are sundresses though.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Gunplay or knifeplay are a total no-go for her. She’s too scared to hurt you by accident. Strap sucking and bondage aren’t really her thing either.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

As already mentioned, she doesn’t like strap sucking since it won’t satisfy you or her. But she’s a great pussy eater, her thick tongue lapping over your cunt while her nose bumps against your clit. She prefers to give, but won’t complain when you eat her out from time to time.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

She’s usually on the more passionate side, she loves to watch your orgasm slowly building up. But as soon as you’re misbehaving, her pace quickens and she’ll eventually get rougher.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

No. Cowgirl!Sevika wants to take her time with you, making sure you’re completely satisfied. She feels like sex has to be an act of love, especially in a relationship.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Well, she doesn’t exactly hates risky, public sex here and there, but it mostly happens because she’s drunk or she wants to make someone jealous. She’s always open to new stuff as long as it won’t hurt you.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

She might be 41, but this woman can last up to five rounds. They usually take about 10-30 minutes, but she’ll need a few breaks in between.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Since it’s the wild west, there’s not a big variety. She owns a strap on and a dildo, that’s all.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Cowgirl!Sevika can be quite the tease- she’ll edge you for nearly an hour sometimes, tickle you while sex or just simply mock you with words.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

She mostly grunts, growls, snarls or chuckles and all those sounds are never really loud. But sometimes a small moan or whimper escapes her throat while you satisfy her.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Cowgirl!Sevika will give you her hat while you ride or hump her.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

She has a very beautiful innie. Her soft folds are light brown, becoming slightly pinkish around the entrance. Her clit is big and sensitive.

Her strap on the other side is around 8 inches long and has a girth that isn’t too thick nor too small, it fits perfectly inside you.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Her sex drive adjusted to yours as soon as she met you, but it will always be quite high, especially when she’s stressed out or simply bored.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Cowgirl!Sevika falls asleep shortly after you, making sure you’re comfortable and taken care of. She’s a big spoon and will press you tightly against her warm body, gently tracing your sensitive skin before she slowly dozes off to sleep.

[spatialwave]

are you jealous?

➸ ask: “Please could we get ‘i'm not jealous. you're just mine’ for Jayce😭” ➸ pairing: jayce talis x fem!reader ➸ word count: 1.9k ➸ tags: mdni! smut, nsfw, pwp, rough sex, dominant!jayce, jealousy, established relationship, no use of y/n. ➸ notes: hehe, thanks for asking!!

Jealousy was a trait that Jayce buried deep within. One that he wasn’t proud of, and he hated every fibre of his being when his mind was filled with thoughts of it. Especially when it came to you.

You were beautiful, a goddess among men. The poor man couldn't watch you waltzing through Piltover without his arm stretching over your shoulders as a silent declaration of “She’s mine.”

Jayce’s frustration often translated into the bedroom, where he could get rid of pent-up anger and stress. You were happily oblivious to it, indulging in any attention you could collect from the man. He was your boyfriend; his attention was the only one you sought.

Your heels clicked against the hardwood floor, the door shutting and locking behind you as you entered your home, with Jayce lingering after—another day, another fancy charity event, with the Man of Progress at the centre of attention.

“Oh, gods,” you uttered quietly, lifting a foot behind you to help remove the uncomfortably tall heels one by one. “Remind me never to wear these out again.”

Jayce was oddly silent behind you, only the quiet hum of acknowledgement as he shrugged his coat off and hung it neatly on the rack.

“Hello? Jayce?” Your voice was louder this time, having spun on your heels to wave your hand in front of his face, “Had one too many glasses of wine, did you?”

You were met with a look of discontentment, his brows slightly furrowed together. You blinked, head tilting curiously.

“You had fun talking Salo’s ear off all night, did you?” He huffed; the accusation caused your mouth to drop.

“Excuse me?” You questioned, delicate fingers lifting to your necklace as you began taking your jewelry off. You didn’t have the time for petty arguing as you walked toward your bedroom, eager to undress, “I suppose I had a few good chats with him about the future of Piltover. Why are you so upset? I’m making connections, aren’t I?”

“I’m not,” Jayce hurried behind you, footsteps heavy, “I’m just saying that you seemed to like his attention.”

His words were hushed as he spoke, obviously a bit sheepish for saying so. The wine in his stomach had done a great job removing the filter he’d so carefully put up every day.

“I can tell when you’re upset. I’m not an idiot… and quite frankly,” you looked over your shoulder once inside your room, hands behind your back struggling to undo the zipper of your dress, “I don’t appreciate the callous accusation. What’s your point?”

Jayce was quick to help, fingers pulling down the zipper of your dress. His lips met with your skin as your shoulders and back became exposed. Stubble tickling you and leaving you a bit breathless.

It was hard to stay upset with him.

“I’m just saying…” his voice wandered as he pressed kisses along your shoulder, up your neck and into your ear, “You were all over him.”

Your eyes had fallen shut, hands keeping the dress pressed against your chest so it didn’t fall right to the floor. The kisses left you shivering with each movement—realization hitting when he kissed the shell of your ear.

“Jayce,” you whispered, turning your head to look at him. You stared into his eyes, hazel with golden flakes that sparkled under the right lighting. His rough hands were on your hips, possessive

“Are you jealous?” The words fell from your lips along with a smirk, the question lighting your insides aflame.

“Not jealous,” he growled into your ear, hands grabbing your hips and pulling you back so your ass was pressed against the obvious erection growing beneath his slacks, “you’re just mine.”

Oh, gods. That awoke something in you.

“Ah,” you let out a gentle moan, allowing yourself to enjoy the way his hands groped at you eagerly, practically ripping the dress from your body that you no longer cared about keeping neat as it crumpled to the floor, “So, you don’t like it when other guys talk to me?”

Jayce huffed, lips attacking your neck from behind, unafraid to bite into the skin and suck. A silent reaction that spoke volumes.

His hard cock pressed against your ass again, separated by his slacks and the lace panties you wore that wouldn’t be on your body for much longer. You were suddenly pushed forward against the wall next to you, a gasp escaping your throat as his hands reached around your body from his spot behind you and delved right into your underwear.

“You drive me fucking crazy,” he whispered, voice heavy and laced with lust. Two fingers rubbed slow circles against your clit, and it took all your energy to keep your knees from buckling beneath you, “Laughing at his terrible jokes… your fucking hand on his arm.”

A mewl escaped your lips, ass pressing back into him with need as his fingers assaulted your clit and shot an overwhelming amount of pleasure through your body. Your hands were pressed against the wall, nails scratching at it.

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered.

“You think you can just flirt with anyone you want?” He growled, licking a long stripe up your neck, lips ghosting against your ear and his other hand squeezing painfully tight on your hip, “Tell me.”

“No,” you answered obediently. You had never flirted, or at least intended so, but gods, you’d be damned if this wasn’t turning you on.

His fingers moved easily through your folds, soaking wet as your juices seeped through your underwear. 

“Will you be a good girl for me?” Jayce whispered, lips moving down your shoulder and back as he dropped to his knees behind you. Fingers hooking into your panties and pulling them down your body, slowly over the globes of your ass.

“Yes,” you said softly, eager to please.

“Tell me you’re mine,” he whispered, hands fondling your ass before giving a hard smack. “I said, tell me.”

You winced in pain, “I’m yours, Jayce. Only yours.”

Jayce had never quite felt this way before, a rush of power and dominance taking over. Knowing very well now that this side of him wouldn’t go unseen again.

His eager eyes watched as his hands spread your cheeks apart, exposing your tight hole and pussy that was so wet it dripped down your thighs. A pitiful mess, clenching around nothing.

“That’s right, baby,” he groaned, leaning in and licking from your swollen clit to your entrance. He poked and prodded, earning whimpers of pleasure from you that filled his stomach with heat and made his cock twitch in his pants.

He pulled away from your cunt after a minute of devouring you like a starved man, chin wet and glistening as he pushed a slow, deliberate finger inside your pussy, that squeezed impossibly tight around the digit. Having been waiting for any form of stimulation.

“Fuck—“ you choked, face pressed against the wall and ass out.

He then stretched you with two fingers, your tight heat clenching hard around them. Your hips stuttered, knees shaking, and you had to use the strength of your hands pressed to the wall to keep you upright. The wet sounds of your cunt being fingers with no remorse filled the room, mixing with your quiet moans and Jayce’s soft praises.

“So good,” he whispered, kissing the back of your thigh and under the curve of your ass, “Do you think I should fuck you? Do you deserve it?”

“Yes, please,” you cried, unable to take any more of the teasing as your nails scratched the wall again. His fingers pumping inside you had already made you crawl slowly towards your release, but the absence of stimulation on your clit kept you from falling off, “I deserve it—“

“Prove it,” his voice was heavy, full of lust. He moved slowly to stand behind you, the sound of his belt undoing, making you tighten around the fingers that abused your swollen sex.

You glanced over your shoulder, a pout on your lips as you looked at him with pleading eyes.

“Please, Jayce, I’m all yours,” you begged, cheeks burning a furious red as you fucked yourself back onto his fingers, “Only yours, I promise.”

“Gods,” he breathed, removing his fingers from your cunt and pushing them between your lips, “You’re lucky I love you.”

You sucked around his fingers, the familiar taste of your juices heavy on your tongue. You moaned loudly around them, face pressing against the wall as he pushed his cock inside your greedy cunt with one sharp thrust. His thick girth stretched you, an amount of fullness that always surprised you, even after countless times of being fucked by him.

He snapped his hips against yours at a relentless pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing louder than your mewls.

Jayce lifted a hand into your hair, tugging your head back so he could breathe against your ear, “You take me so well, baby.”

A whine strangled in your throat, a delicious sound that settled a familiar heat in the pit of Jayce’s stomach. He let go of your hair, leaning back so he could focus both hands on your

hips, squeezing so tight that you’d be surprised if your skin didn’t form lingering bruises in its wake.

Your heat enveloped him perfectly, your inner muscles clenching tight around his length with each deep penetration. Enough to rumble a groan from his chest as he focused on fucking you brutally and senselessly, feeding off every cry of pleasure that came from you.

“Cum for me,” his words came heavy from his chest, leaning forward as he greeted your otherwise abandoned clit that was dying for attention with a heavy-handed touch, “Please, baby. I need you to cum.”

Your toes curled against the floor as you felt the tight cord in your abdomen snap, his fingers circling your clit and cock stretching you out, leaving you nothing more than a sex-induced mess. His name rolled off your tongue in repetition, walls tightening hard around his cock as you milked him–desperate for him to fill you.

“Fuck, Jayce–”

“Just like that,” he groaned, eyes watching the way his cock sheathed inside your aching cunt, “fuck, baby, you look so good. You take me so good. So fucking perfect.”

A moan caught in his throat as he leaned forward, teeth and lips pressing against your shoulder. He came hard, hips stuttering and losing his pace as his cock twitched inside you as his climax hit him with unbridled intensity. Jayce’s fingers dug into the soft flesh of your hips, grunting heavy sounds against your skin as he slammed into you with one final thrust.

His cock pumped stream after stream of hot cum inside you, your still spasming walls coaxing out every last drop.

“Ah, fuck–” he sputtered, his body nearly going limp as he let go of your hips, muscled arms instead wrapping around your waist, “... I love you.”

The sweetest giggle bubbled up from your chest, turning your head against the wall to meet his gaze, “That was hot,” you murmured, blinking slowly, “You’re sexy when you’re jealous.”

“Please, no,” Jayce groaned, chuckling dryly as he buried his face against your neck in coy embarrassment, “I hate it.”

“You’re a dork. I love you, too.” You beamed.