#victory over sin

[kdmiller55]

Doing Battle With Sin

1 After this David defeated the Philistines and subdued them, and David took Metheg-ammah out of the hand of the Philistines. 2 And he defeated Moab and he measured them with a line, making them lie down on the ground. Two lines he measured to be put to death, and one full line to be spared. And the Moabites became servants to David and brought tribute. 3 David also defeated Hadadezer the son of…

[madewithonerib]

How to Overcome Sin & Bear Fruit | Eric Gilmour [Galatians 5]

The Bible teaches us how to live free from sin & walk like JESUS in Galatians 5:16-25 we see three keys that help us understand the spiritual life

    that is living in victory over sin and     becoming like JESUS v.25 there's this     interesting statement Paul says

    if we live by the SPIRIT

1.] Awareness of SPIRIT's Presence

This is life received on the inside, this is being born again; he who has the SON, has life.

If you don't have the SPIRIT, you are none of HIS —it is the SPIRIT coming in on the inside born of HIS SPIRIT washed in HIS blood.

    This SPIRIT gives life & so if we have that     conviction, the SPIRIT bears witness with     my SPIRIT that I'm a child of GOD.

    that I live by the SPIRIT that knowing that     conviction knowing that I have been born     from above.

He says if you have that, he says then walk by the SPIRIT—he actually says in v.16 as well

if you walk by the SPIRIT you will not carry out the desires of the flesh which shows us some- thing that you've been born from above, and the SPIRIT lives on the inside.

That is the convicting presence of CHRIST.

The presence of the SPIRIT in your life, HE says: if you live by walking is a term used in Scripture for your life. John says I have no greater joy than to see my children walking in the truth.

It has to do with the way you live your life, so Paul is saying you have a conviction that you've been born from above—live in that conviction of HIS presence.

     if you live/walk by the SPIRIT you will      not gratify the desires of the flesh or      carry out the desires of the flesh which      shows us the desires of the flesh is to      walk your life by a lack of awareness      of the presence of the ONE WHO is      inside of you

So if you live by the SPIRIT & you don't walk by the flesh, you will carry out the desires of the SPIRIT—so live by the SPIRIT.

     Stay in that living by the SPIRIT, by      walking aware of the presence      you are convicted by is in you..

     by being born again

2.] New Covenant Freedom From Law

Praise GOD & then lastly he says if you are led by the SPIRIT, you are not under the Law which obviously under the Law means required to keep these commandments.

If you break them, there's a curse upon you that's been eradicated by the new covenant —which is the covenant of the SPIRIT

HE puts HIS SPIRIT in our hearts.

This is the new covenant, but even more so the new covenant of the SPIRIT makes us above the Law

—which means you don't just not envy, you don't just not lie, you don't just not commit adultery..

You don't have those things in your heart any more—in other words your heart is living above those things.

   •  It's such a higher degree    •  It's a newness of life

This is being like CHRIST because the SPIRIT of CHRIST—on the inside of you, is causing these things.

Love & joy not just theologically actually, experientially love & joy & peace & patience

This comes from being led by the SPIRIT which has to do with yielding to the internal guidance & impressions of the presence you're aware of

   •  that you've been born again by

3.] Three Ingredients for Victory

So three things the Bible shows us about living in victory over sin, and walking like JESUS if you live by the SPIRIT—that conviction you've been born again from above:

[a] walk by that conviction

[b] walk by that awareness of HIS presence       & we will not carry out the desires of       the flesh & lastly

[c]  yield to all the impressions of that       new nature on the inside of you & you'll       live above the Law with love/joy/peace       & patience/goodness/kindness/faithful       -ness/gentleness & self-control

The Bible teaches us how to live in victory over sin & like CHRIST again we're all growing in this

We all desire to walk this way.

So may grace come upon us to live this out & not just know it—but actually to have its reality in our lives by the person of the SPIRIT having all of our attention.

    us yielding ourselves to HIM that's the key

This is the spiritual life

GOD bless you guys

Galatians 5:16-25 | Keeping Your Nose Clean ¹⁶ So I say, walk by the SPIRIT, & you will not gratify desires of the flesh. ¹⁶ But I say, walk by the SPIRIT, & you will not gratify the desires of the flesh.

¹⁷ For the desires of the flesh are against the SPIRIT, & the desires of the SPIRIT are against the flesh, for these are opposed to each other, to keep you from doing the things you want to do.

¹⁸ But if you are led by the SPIRIT, you are not under the Law. ¹⁹ Now the works of the flesh are evident: sexual immorality, impurity, sensuality, ²⁰ idolatry, sorcery, enmity, strife, jealousy, fits of anger, and rivalries, dissensions, divisions, ²¹ envy, drunken- ness, orgies, & things like these.

I warn you, as I warned you before, those who do such things will not inherit the Kingdom of GOD.

²² But the Fruit of the SPIRIT is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, ²³ gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law.

²⁴ And those who belong to CHRIST JESUS have crucified the flesh with its passions & desires.

²⁵ If we live by the SPIRIT, let us also    keep in step with the SPIRIT.

[gettruthgetlife]

VICTORY OVER SIN

Image by OpenClipart-Vectors from Pixabay Revelation 3:21 (KJV) – “To him that overcometh will I grant to sit with me in My throne, even as I also overcame, and am set down with My Father in His throne.” Jesus promises the special blessings of sitting with Him on His throne to the person who is successful in overcoming sin. He gives an example of Himself how He sits with God the Father in His…

[tonyjwash]

Finding Imperfection

There’s an old adage that states the more closely you study the things that man has done, the more imperfection you will find. Conversely, the more closely you study the things that God has done, the more perfection you will find. Every sculpture, every masterpiece has its flaws, but have you ever inspected a snowflake, a leaf, the detail in the human body? The deeper you delve more and more the…

[christianblogr]

Give Him Six Touchdown Jesus Christ

Give Him Six Touchdown Jesus Christ using a sports analogy on how Jesus won. #bgbg2

Give Him Six Touchdown Jesus Christ using a sports analogy on how Jesus won. #bgbg2 Give Him Six Touchdown Jesus Christ The late John Ward, Sports Announcer for the University of Tennessee Volunteers, primarily from 1965 until 1999, and known to fans as the “Voice of the Vols”, would say, “Give Him Six, touchdown Tennessee!” When Tennessee would score a touchdown. In American football, a…

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

by Jordan Chamblee | As believers in Jesus Christ, we are called to a life of joy and peace in the midst of whatever circumstances we find ourselves. Yet, for many of us, this call can feel distant and unattainable as we struggle with the reality of spiritual depression. This weighty burden can be a confusing and isolating experience, leaving us feeling disconnected from...

[albertfinch]

EMBRACING THE MINDSET OF RESTORATION

Ephesians 5:25-27 talks about a Church that has already been sanctified through being born again in Christ and is ready and presently equipped to carry out the Great Commission of discipling the nations thereby demolishing the Kingdom of darkness.

The worst "drug" many Christians are taking today is the drug of the wrong narrative. This wrong narrative says we are in the worst of days and that Jesus is coming any moment to rescue us out of the mess of these days.

These are actually the days of the greatest Kingdom advancements ever and Jesus is going to come THROUGH us in a mighty way before He comes FOR us. When you understand Scriptures' timetable for when Christ returns, you realize that He is not coming to rescue a people or a bride but only to celebrate with a victorious people who have truly discipled the nations. (Matthew 29:19).

EMBRACING THE MINDSET OF RESTORATION

Acts 3:20-21 - "and that He may send [to you] Jesus, the Christ, who has been appointed for you, 21 whom heaven must keep until the time for the [complete] restoration of all things about which God promised through the mouth of His holy prophets from ancient time." (AMP)

Acts 3:21 confirms to us that He is "held in the heavens" UNTIL an era of restoration has been fulfilled - that we are only just now beginning. The enemy has sold us a drug of a false narrative of the day. This "drug" disempowers more Believers than any other drug, and if you are going to be refired you have to abandon that storyline.

WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT GOD?

What you think about God is the most important thing about you and you need to start getting some better thoughts about God and His desire to advance His Kingdom throughout the earth through us. The Kingdom age has just begun and there is unprecedented Kingdom territory for the taking - and He wants His Bride fully engaging their Christ identity so they can be effective against the powers of darkness.

LIVING PRESENTLY FOR THE NEXT GENERATION

Yes, there is also a major call upon the next generation to run with wondrous things from God, but God is speaking right now of the incredible things He has for those who have thought the sun is setting on their lives and efforts. Yes, you want to hand off the baton to the next generation, but you don't do that until you finish running your race (God's calling on your life). Your race is done when you are dead and not before.  Great gains are in order for those who will bear fruit that remains for God’s Kingdom by advancing in their Christ calling.

ALBERT FINCH MINISTRY

[foldingfittedsheets]

My best friend growing up was a matter of convenience over compatibility. The boy across the street was only a year older than me. We had some common interests but our personality types were a terrible clash. I remember fighting with him just as vividly as any peaceful activity.

We were stuck in the same boat though. There was no other kids to socialize with except our odious older brothers, and being together was slightly less wretched than being alone. Most of the time. Our parents joked that we were like an old married couple, always fighting. We’re both gay now.

His family was better off so he brought more toys and video games to the friendship table. My family had more land so we had animals to play with and secret forest clubhouses. We hung out most days but he refused to acknowledge me at school for the sin of being both a year younger and a girl.

He was a terribly sore loser though. When playing fighting games he’d win four out of five rounds but if I won the fifth he’d turn the console off before letting my character do a victory dance. I was fairly prosaic about this. He liked to play them and I went along. When I won I got to suggest other activities.

Now, I mentioned we both had older brothers. His older brother was only three years above him. They scuffled in a normal sibling manner but the older brother was cognizant that he was bigger and stronger and these fights were more what I would characterize as fencing. There was rules and treaties in place.

My older brother was five years older than me. When we fought it was a no holds barred pit fight. I went absolutely feral. Significantly younger and weaker I unleashed my greatest weapon which was absolute berserker tactics. I bit, scratched, went for the balls, I was a menace. I paid no heed to any injury done to me if it let me land another strike. Most of our fights ended in a stalemate of me pinned or him bleeding too profusely to continue harassing me.

I never considered that I was getting more fighting experience than my friend. When scuffles broke out between us without a controller in hand I won every time. He’d jokingly smack me and we’d go down in a ball of flying hair and monkey screeches, but I always ended on top.

The trouble was, I found, that afterward he was no fun at all. His fragile childhood masculinity couldn’t take these defeats from someone younger and more female than him and he’d always sulk home afterward. I didn’t care for that, especially because fighting him was much more fun than my horrible brother.

Then one day I found the secret. I’d whapped him far too hard upside the head and he began to cry immediately. Full of guilt I whimpered that he’d really hurt my knee. He stopped crying. He hurt my knee? Then we were even! He’d hurt me just as badly and therefore the fight was a draw.

I was delighted by this logic. Every fight thereafter I saw no shame in playing up some injury he’d dealt me retroactively. I had no pride to lose and shamelessly acted beaten to avoid hurting his feelings. Our fights were milder as a result, and we both went away feeling elated by the childhood violence rather than defeated.

[yeslordmyking]

1 John 3:8 — Today's Verse for Wednesday, October 25, 2023

[inbabylontheywept]

by tradition, the first day of the camp was spent pranking the group next to us. our prank was ziptying the zippers on their sleeping bags together. we figured one of them would sleep with a knife, because we all slept with knives, because we were dangerous maniacs and half the danger of a dangerous maniac is that they tend to think that they are Actually Normal. so. obviously that didn't pan out, and instead they got stuck in their sleeping bags for like half an hour and because their scoutmaster slept in their car and couldn't hear them yelling, they actually only got out when one of them went full caged animal and chewed through the plastic. which meant they had time to make it to the axe throwing station, but they did miss breakfast.

the scale of our victory was impossible to understate. it was an epic prank. unrivaled. the best in years. we knew they were going to retaliate, and we both feared and craved it. maybe i'm still a maniac, but that feels like a common thing, right? do well adjusted people that are not maniacs crave Judgement?

(serious answers only please, from people who would never spoon a knife.)

anyway, the next day we got back to our camp, and the neighors had skipped dinner to just come back and fill all our tents with pinecones. which was like, a decent prank, i guess, but it probably took them an hour to fill all the tents up, and it took us like 15 minutes to tip the tents out, and as a return volley to the ziptie prank it was incredibly underwhelming. we felt a little cheated.

so our scouting group held a council, and we agreed, unanimously, that our prank was 100% better and theirs sucked and that there would be no escalating tensions because we were the clear victors. they'd had their chance to retaliate, and they failed, and so the war was over. that was it.

we agreed on this. we swore. but madness is a relative thing, and in our group of maniacs, we still had J. i have many, many J stories. too many. i biked up to school with him from 4th grade to 8th, and i saw him get hit by cars thrice. he'd just swerve into the road sometimes. one time on a rainy day in 4th grade, a car splashed me, and before i could even consider my response J yelled I GOT THIS and then he blitzed off after the car. i didn't see him the rest of the day. i was so anxious i barely slept that night. i saw him the next morning and he told me that he'd chased the car until it got to a gated community and then he'd climbed over the fence and looked in peoples garages until he found the one with the car, and then he'd ripped the hood ornament off and broke their window. then he gave me a hood ornament to a different brand of car from the one that splashed me and i didnt tell him because i didnt want him missing more school. i want you to mentally adjust your mental model of the things a 9 year old is capable of doing to include chasing a car for five miles, hopping a fence, breaking into a garage, and vandalizing a randos car.

and that's just the tip of my J stories iceberg.

the point of all this is just to say that J was so crazy that he made us knife spooners look like accountanting enthusiasts.

so we agreed the war was done, and we shook on it, and then J, in the name of friendship, in the name of honor, in the name of avenging our pinecone filled tents, snuck over to their camp that evening and fornicated with a watermelon that they'd been saving in their cooler.

i want to emphasize, again, that this was not the consensus of the group. that is not a prank. like i know it seems like we dont know what pranks are because of the whole ziptie thing, but even we knew that fucking someones food is not a prank, it is a crime, and a sin, the kind of weapon that had only been ethically used once in history by Horus in his battle against Set and none of us dumb assholes had owl heads.

so.

the next day went pretty well. we threw some more axes again, which is a valuable and important skill for children to learn i guess, and we learned how to tie knots, which is a skill that turned out to be far sexier than i ever expected, and i learned how to light fires with a magnifying glass, which was great. i'm looking back at this, and i am actually just now beginning to realize that the clear and obvious point of scouting is turning child sociopaths into apex predators.

and then the day ended, and we went back to our camps, except for our leaders, who had a sort of Scout Leader Meeting they were going to have for a few hours at least. it was built into the camp, that day was supposed to be our day to chill as a group, and make peach cobbler, and just be buddies.

except, as it turned out, our neighboring group's alternative to making peach cobbler was eating their watermelon. so at some point they opened their watermelon, and woo boy. oh man. you think catholics hated seedless watermelons? you should see how much mormons hate seeded ones.

so we were chilling by the fire, and then we heard screaming from the camp over, but we didn't pay much mind to that because there are many reasonable explanations for a group of 10ish children to scream simulanteoulsy, such as wasps, which are abundant in arizona, and then the screaming got closer, which did not bother us because there were many reasons for a group 10ish children to scream and run towards us, for example, wasps, which are abundant in arizona, and then we noticed they had large sticks on them, which we figured were perhaps being used to drive away the wasps, which are abundant in arizona, and then they arrived and they started beating the shit out of us, abundantly, in arizona.

so we ran into the woods.

now, at this point, we had no idea what was up. we knew that the camp next to us was out for blood, which was crazy, because we'd actually locked them in fartproof bags for 30 minutes and they'd barely done anything back, and were trying to figure out what could possibly have happened that could drive them to Terrible Violence when we realized that J was cackling like a witch that had learned how to order children off of ebay.

so we politely asked J what the hell he had done, and he politely explained that had "done" their watermelon, and we politely beat him with large sticks because life is nothing but endless cycles of violence.

we were still being chased by the other camp btw. so it was them, chasing us, chasing J, and then they got tired and went back to their camp, and we chased J a little longer because we were mad we'd all been walloped with sticks, and J did not care because he was a supernatural entity whose only weaknesses were Needles and Fire, and then we got tired and went back and J kept running, and we just kind of figured he would come back eventually.

he did not.

we went back to our tents, and we waited, and J did not come back. we stayed up all night, peering into the forest, worrying. our leader came back, and we did our best to hide our battlewounds, and he either genuinely did not notice or simply accepted this as part of Boyhood. then he went to bed, and we waited, and waited, and waited. And Waited. and did not sleep.

eventually, we convened again, and we agreed that if J was not back by after breakfast, we would have to tell the scoutleader about what exactly had transpired. and we really did not want to do that, because it would have meant that everyone would have gotten in a very large amount of trouble.

morning came around, and J still was not back. we went to breakfast, and we ate very, very slowly. we were afraid the other camp was going to continue their war with us, but they actually looked fairly frightened. one of them actually came to us and asked for a truce, and we agreed because we truly felt bad for them. like, yes, they did beat us with sticks, but J fucked their watermelon. we werent complicit in the watermelonfuckening but they didnt know that, and it was definitely the kind of crime that left one outside the bounds of the social contract.

and then when we could eat no more bits, when breakfast was almost done, right when i was getting pushed to go and tell the scoutleader that we needed to find J, he arrived. he was sleep deprived, and noticeably scraped and bloody, and tied to his belt was a blood squirrel tail.

and i asked him, J, where did you get that? and he said, don't worry man, it was already dead, which did not answer by question and gave me several more.

the camp ended that day, and the other groups avoided us like the plague, and it was not until some weeks later that we were able to piece together what happened.

J, in his sojourn through the forest, managed to find (or, possibly, make) a dead squirrel. he then cut off the tail to keep on his belt, because he was a weird little freak like that. he also took the dead squirrel, and he skinned it, then he tied it to a little crucifix made of wood, and he left it in the other scouting group's camp. which is why they were so scared of us.

it was such an unhinged thing to do it actually sobered us up for a while. scouting became a scary thing for us. we'd found something dark and primal there, in the place where no adult could see, and our appreciation of J as a wild ride kind of changed into seeing him as something truly dangerous. we had a sense wherever he went, something terrible would follow, and the only way to escape it was to not be there when it arrived. and so piece by piece, the scout group dissolved. it wasnt until he moved out of that ward that the rest of us started daring to go back to scouts.

and for the final epilogue of the tale:

i have a little brother who was friends with a younger cousin of J's, and the two would go to parties together in highschool. and sometimes J, who was in his early 20's at that point, would show up at the parties, and it was unsettling in such a way that it just became a known risk at parties with the cousin. and at one party, they were playing truth or dare, and J wasn't even in the room, but someone asked him the Truth of how he always knew how to find the cousin, and J said the cousin's mom had mentioned she was worried about him and the parties so he'd put a tracker in his car. and when he saw that the cousin was out of the house on weekends, he'd made a visit by, just to make sure he was safe.

then he left. and every single person at that party went over that poor kid's car. they searched the wheel-wells, checked underneath it, the works, until they found the tracker. then because they were clever, they didnt break it, or throw it away, or anything that would've given away what they'd done. they just gave the tracker to the cousin, who put it in his glovebox. and on schooldays, he'd take it with him, so J could see him in the parking lot. and on weekends, he could leave it in the garage, so he could go to parties with out Hell coming with him. because everyone that met J - every single person - knew that the only way to be safe from him was to be far, far away.

[absolutepokemontrash]

I’m just imagining MC trying to curb the brothers’ more dangerous sinful urges, both for their own good and the good of the people around them, but it doesn’t always work out, and MC needs to settle for small victories.

Mammon: Gah! Human! It’s in my DNA! I’m hardwired to want things! I’m the demon of greed dammit! I want to steal!

MC: No! No theft!

Mammon: Not even one bit of grand larceny? ONE jewellery store???

MC: NO!

Mammon: MC-

MC: OH FOR THE LOVE OF- go rob that fucking vending machine to get the urges out! Shoo! Shoo!

Mammon: *grumbles on the way to shake the shit out of a vending machine*

——————

MC: So this is called Chess Boxing, you can stimulate your brain in between giving it blunt force trauma, and inflicting it on your opponent!

Satan: I don’t know, MC… I’m not sure if I’ll like i-

*elapsed time: 3 minutes*

Satan, covered in blood, both his own, and otherwise: WOOOOO! CHECKMATE, YOU DUMB MOTHERFUCKER!

Random wrath demon, on the floor: *shaky thumbs up*

—————

MC: This is called competetive eating, Beel.

Beelzebub: So I need to eat all of these humans eating those tacos before the timer runs out. I don’t know, MC, that sounds easy.

MC: Beel- no- you’re eating the tacos. It’s a competition to see who can eat more food, not people.

Beelzebub: Ohhhhh, that sounds much better! :3

————

MC: So instead of being such a dick-

Lucifer: You love it.

MC: Shut up. Anyway, instead of being such a dick, you can channel your pride into other things, like putting your brothers’ report cards up on the fridge!

Lucifer: MC, I would do that if they got anything worth being proud of.

MC: Maybe you can be proud of yourself for investing in a fucking tutor then, Ms Trunchbull.

————

MC: Belphie- Belphie wake up, we need to find something more sustainable to channel your sloth into.

Belphie: *snore*

MC: …you are a drain on my mental energy.

*MC is immediately swatted by Belphie’s tail*

————

MC: Hey Asmo, you know those incredibly detailed dirty roleplay stories you text me on a regular basis?

Asmo: How could I forget~?

MC: Yeah yeah yeah, so do you want to stop traumatizing me with those and go write a dark romance novel that’ll make some booktok girlie scream over?

Asmo: Oooooo… tempting~!

————

MC: Hey Levi, why don’t we envy something attainable so you have something to work towards? Like showering more!

Leviathan: What..? What’s this all about??

MC: I’m just trying to help you grow beyond constantly feeling envy to everyone around you, because you’re pretty great, Levi!

MC: And you can start showing the world you’re great by showering more!

Leviathan: MC, I don’t know…

MC: Watch, you can envy how much I don’t stink! Levi, please, you smell like moldy Monster Energy…

[agendabymooner]

SOMETHING REWARDED !!! LANDO N. X FEM!READER (18+)

summary: at the night of his first win, lando gave his sweet girl a reward for being his ‘lucky charm.’

content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni!), miami gp 2024 spoilers (ish), standard smut, anal play if you blink, praise kink, titfucking, body worship-esque

note: this could’ve been published an hour after the race but i got busy. it didn’t eat as much but enjoy xx

something sinful (smut) masterlist

a - n masterlist // o - z masterlist

if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out

lando’s partner wasn’t shy. she was just… reserved in the sweetest way possible. that’s what he loved about her. no amount of words could express how beautiful she was. her curves, her lips, her everything? 

god lando was fucking in love with her.

anyone in miami might assume that she was feeling hot due to the sweltering weather. sure. 

but lando knew the difference between the heat in her face when she’s under the sunny weather and when he whispers praises in her ears.

and he certainly knew what the heat rising in her cheeks meant when he had his hand between her thighs.

“lando…” she murmured softly, her face becoming hotter by than it was as lando hovered over her, “i- i-“

“shh…” lando tutted her with a smirk, “‘s okay, darling. ‘s just us.”

“i know,” she whispered back, “b- but you’re supposed to be celebrating tonight.”

“i told the boys i’m not showing up,” lando said, his hands were getting too generous for his touches to be just ‘teasing.’ 

lando won today. surely he can be something beyond generous, right? he got what he wanted for a long time, a long awaited victory.

it was only fair that his sweet girl got the brunt of that victory, too.

his lips attached themselves on her ear and nipped on it, eliciting a soft moan from her. pressing another kiss on her earlobe, lando whispered, “told them i’m too busy loving on my lucky charm.”

she let out a whine, her body squirming beneath lando’s towering ones while his hands slid her dress off.

she was left with nothing but a red lace knickers, her plump breasts eager to be devoured as lando growled quietly. his one hand created friction on her nipple while his mouth was attached to her other one. 

“oh,” she let out a little whimper, her back arching just at the feeling of lando’s hands and mouth all over her. “hm-“

lando’s hands worshipped her like she deserved, gliding through her curves and between her thighs. the sweet whispers of, “lando” continued to escape her mouth. 

“mmm… you’re so fucking pretty, my sweet girl,” lando murmured, his hands kneading and fondling her tits. “such good fucking tits, too.

precum leaked out of lando’s cock, his mind already feeling foggy with the thought of feeling her writhe beneath him. 

“you don’t mind me fucking these tits, do you?” lando taunted her, knowing that she would say yes anyway. “can i fuck these tits, baby? hm?”

lando could have cum right there as his half-lidded eyes were trained on her flustered face. the woman didn’t show how excited she was, but she sure wanted him as much. 

she bit her lip and nodded, her tits splayed out in the open. she held her breasts and squeezed them together.

lando grinned, moving up on the mattress with his cock gliding through her tits. lando let out a guttural groan, watching the tip of his cock disappearing each time he slid. 

she whimpered, enjoying the sight of lando on top of her. 

“fuck,” he cursed, thrusting his cock between her breast while she whined. “so good for me, baby. god, fuck. you’re gonna make me cum hard.” 

“oh god…”

and if fucking her tits wasn’t any better, seeing the top of her tongue lick his moving cock became nothing but a cherry on top. 

sure his first victory in miami was an achievement, but god his girlfriend was a delightful sight to see when she begged to be fucked too. 

“hngh- oh god,” she whined lewdly, already too fucked out after her third orgasm of the night. from behind, lando watched himself glisten and slide out with her wetness coating his cock. 

“so good f’me, darling,” lando crooned softly, thrusting into her wet cunt slowly. 

she didn’t respond with anything but a muffled mewl, clutching the sheets drenched with the mess she made.

“ohhhh god fuck!” lando let out, his pace getting faster as her walls clenched around his girth. 

“oh my god,” she whined, “so good, so good. fuck!~”

“such a good girl,” lando praised her, his hand snaking between her thighs to rub her clit. “let it out baby. you’re such a good girl.”

“i’m gonna cum again,” she stammered, her body squirming and writhing while being caged by lando. she could crawl away, her legs shaking vigorously as she felt her orgasm approach. 

lando’s other hand glided on her ass, his thumb toying with her puckered hole as he muttered, “mmm… look at this hole of yours.”

“so tight and all,” lando commented, lust evident on his tone, “you’re gonna let me fuck this one of these days, aren’t you?”

“ngh-“

“yes?” lando chuckled darkly, “i know you said yes before. but…

“i want you to cum again,” lando whispered, his hand reaching up to tug on her hair. “cum on my cock darling. cum all over my cock.”

lando might be the victorious one today, sure, but nobody deserves a reward more than she did. 

♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen @happy-nico @architect-2015 @hiireadstuff @biancathecool @scorpiomindfuck @stinkyjax @youdontknowmeshh @hyneyedfiz @decafmickey @lightdragonrayne

♡   moony’s reminder 🅴 (explicit edition): @glitterf1 @savrose129 @maxillness @bigsimperika @xoscar03

[sytoran]

⁺‧ ₊ ཐི⋆ ♱ ❝GUILTY AS SIN?❞ ♱ w. maximoff !

pairing ★ older!nun!wanda x masc!fem!reverend!reader

synopsis ★ (based on this ask) a 1950s church au, set somewhere loosely in europe, in which a reverend and a nun serving at a cathedral harbour forbidden feelings for each other, where love intertwines with religion in a sacred romance.

warnings ★ explicit content (minors dni), pwp, reader has a cock, virgin!reader but not for long ;), you have a thing for older women, wanda is a tease, no daddy/mommy kink (sorry, it didn't really fit for wanda), but something else fit inside wanda (wink wink)

word count ★ 3.6k (serving) | main m.list

“The Lord be with you.”

“And with your spirit.”

Wanda stands for the final blessing, eyes shut in devout faithfulness. As the choral voices utter the hauntingly beautiful concluding hymn, she exhales softly, letting the singing resound around each panel of glass in the tall cathedral.

Harmonic minor chords echo from the organ, as the acolytes walk down the aisle. Voices rise in harmony. Little altar boys trip over their feet. The older wardens are grim with wrinkles set into aged skin.

And then there is you.

Illuminated by the tinted light is your set face, cloaked in your black vestments and as regal as ever. Wanda watches under her white veil, poised hands and craned neck. 

Wanda was not oblivious that her want for you was forbidden. A deep sin, for the two of you were devout servers of the church. It went against everything she had been taught since she was a first year at Westview Catholic High, but then again, you were the fount of her desires, and it was as simple as that.

As you walk past her solemnly, Wanda catches your eye. She can see you stiffen under her stare ablaze, swallowing a lump in the back of your throat, and victory glints in Wanda’s lowered gaze.

She had to be patient.

Once the mass proceedings were over, you stood outside the cathedral, all gentle smiles and warm hands. It was no secret that you were a crowd favourite amongst the pent-up housewives of Westview and repressed nuns of the church.

How could they not, after all, with the way your dark garments hugged your stately figure, broad and wide and lined with unspoken strength. You were polite, and respectful, and far too innocent for your own good. 

Wanda stands by the entrance of the church, watching you get swarmed by the ladies like a high school heartthrob. 

It was okay, she was content with waiting.

“Reverend L/N,” A middle-aged lady calls, clutching onto your forearm. You smile kindly at her, recognising Pepper, the suburban mom down at 5th and Street. “Yes, Miss Potts, how was today’s service?”

“Absolutely splendid,” She gushes shamelessly, clasping your hands and stepping in far too close. “Your gospel was so moving.”

The overt affection is cloying to Wanda’s senses, only heightened by her distaste for Pepper’s dress. There was simply no reason why her Beatnik dress had to be so low-cut.

Your other arm is not safe from the clutches of Sister Agatha. She was the most experienced of the nuns and had basically claimed her stake on you since you were assigned to the church. Suddenly, hands caress the dip of your tricep to your bicep.

“Excuse me, Miss Potts,” Agatha says snidely. “Reverend L/N has to get back to her duties, if you’ll allow us.” You swallow at the way her perfume scent overtakes your senses, only magnifying the heat under your robes. 

The mom is evidently put off by this, along with the other ladies of the church, some with babies on their hips and without their husbands.

You, on the other hand, stand awkwardly amongst the crowd of ladies, their eyes feasting upon you like a predator eagle.

Even then, Wanda could see the effect that it had on you, ever the innocent and inexperienced. With a pair of ample assets pressed up against your muscled forearm, and a feminine hand wrapped around your bicep, there was no hiding the flush in your face and the telltale tent in your robes.

“I- I have to go,” you say suddenly. You retract your arms, as if scorned, worry clouding your expression. You make your way through the crowd of women, embarrassed and ashamed, leaving many disappointed women in your wake.

A smile crawls up Wanda’s face as she watches you attempt to retreat back into your office. 

She ducks behind the wall of the corridor. As your hurried footsteps approach, Wanda steps out, as if walking in the opposite direction from you. 

“Oof!” The two of you collide comically (intentionally), as Wanda’s hands fly to your arms for support. She dramatically falls forward into your wide embrace, unnecessarily clumsy — but you don’t know any better, profusely apologising to Wanda.

“Sister Wanda!” You say breathlessly, gripping onto her hips unconsciously, unbeknownst to the effect it had on the older woman. “I’m so sorry, I had no idea you were just around the corner. Why, I seem to be out of sorts as of late.”

Wanda is more than content to run her gloved hands up your arms, shaking her head dutifully.

“I was looking for you, actually,” she says with a kind smile, noting the way your throat bobs as you hold her by her slim waist, entirely transfixed.

Sister Wanda was beautiful like the night, pale moonlight and soft silk. Dainty fingertips clutch the rosary beads, and you yearned to lift up her white veil to see the ethereality that lay beneath. 

It seemed like an eternity before you snapped out of your trance, stepping back and coughing into your hand. 

Wanda would think you were a fool if you believed she couldn’t see the issue in your pants, filling up quite a lot more space than it normally did. It excited Wanda to no end, as the fabric covering your body shifted across your planes of muscles as you moved back.

“Yes, I- uhm,” you clear your throat distractedly. “What queries did you have, again?”

“Ah,” Wanda says easily, tilting her head in amusement at your innocence. “Regarding mass, of course.”

Your brows furrow, terribly hiding your visible disappointment. Wanda could almost giggle at your dejectedness. It was no matter, that issue of yours would be remedied soon.

“I was wondering if I could visit your office tonight?” Wanda asks innocently.  “I’ve been having these… thoughts, and I would like to share them with someone I trust.”

“Someone you trust,” you echo, folding your arms and feeling your heart rate pick up exponentially at the sentiment that Sister Wanda trusted you. “Of course, Sister. As a preacher and a friend, I would gladly aid you in any troubles.”

“Any?” Wanda asks, and you swear you see a twinkling sparkle of mischief behind that white veil. “I guess only time will tell. Until then, Reverend, goodbye.”

Sister Wanda disappears down the lane of grey concrete, losing you in the corner wall of red brick, leaving you with a lot more to comprehend than just your hummingbird-esque thrumming heart.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི ⋆ ♱ ⋆ ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

Ten o’clock strikes the clock tower at the Town Square, a dull and permeating sound that resurfaces you from your listless floating.

You hadn’t been able to focus on anything all day after your interaction with Wanda. Anticipation ate you up from the inside out, affecting the quality of your sermons, although your crowd of admirers never weaned.

There was only one woman you cared for, though.

“Reverend L/N?” A sweet voice asks from beyond the shut door, and you shoot up with vigour that could rival Elvis performing Hound Dog. (You’d seen a clip of it on the television the other day — that young man was a star in the making.)

When you finally manage to fumble open the door handle, all the breath gets stolen from your weeping heart, and you may as well be laying in your casket because it looks like it’s your funeral.

To your utter demise and beseeching joy, Wanda Maximoff stands before you looking like a Renaissance painting handcrafted by Michaelangelo himself. What with her white veil removed to expose the delicacy of her beautiful face you long to caress, and her hair let down to fall in soft curls, and a smile playing on her glossy lips — you’re gone, already, before she even steps inside.

Wanda lets herself in, brushes past you and leaves you dazed in her wake. 

“So, shall we begin with an opening prayer?”

Regretfully, you’re unable to devote your entire concentration upon the given task. You’d say you weren’t totally at fault, though — Wanda looked different today, a good kind of different, one that made you feel lighter than you ever had.

“Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil,” Wanda recites, hands clasped as she looks down. “Amen,” you close off, placing your beaded rosary back into your drawer. 

You look up to see the older woman regarding you with an unreadable expression, the reflection from your dim ceiling light flickering in her viridescent eyes. It lights a fire within you, a desire for something you can’t quite place.

The ticking of your Peter table-clock seems too loud, all of a sudden, and Wanda’s gaze overwhelms your very sentience. You get a premonition, somewhere in the back of your mind, that this scene is going to unfold in a way you wouldn’t be prepared for.

“It’s rather warm in here, isn’t it?” Wanda voices abruptly, breaking the tense silence that had settled above the two of you.

You shoot up too quickly, banging your knee on your desk, then clearing your throat. “Well, it is nearing summer, Sister,” you answer with a strained voice. You can feel Wanda’s eyes on you as you pace the room to switch on the ceiling fan.

When you turn back around after fumbling with the power switch, your jaw slackens at the sight of Wanda. Oh. 

She’s undressing before your very eyes, mumbling something about the irritatingly warm weather your brain doesn’t even begin to process, because you could swear up and down you’d never seen such beauty before.

“Well, I should get into it before the night drags on,” Wanda speaks, her voice a thousand miles away. Hopeless devotion swirls in your wandering gaze, focusing upon the silk black negligee that is revealed from under her robes — you don’t stop to think about the practicality of such clothing, foolish as you are — and the matching black high-rise stockings of hers do you in.

“Reverend L/N?” Sister Wanda asks, snapping you out of your fantastical trance, sending a sharp jolt to your growing member. A toying smile plays on her lips, one you don’t notice out of sheer embarrassment, her tone husking with a velvet lilt.

“Y-yes, Sister,” you say, sitting back down firmly in your seat and wishing you could scare your growing shaft into mellowing down, because you were certain you were already staining your undergarments. “Excuse my, uh, carelessness. Please, continue.”

“I’ve been having these…… thoughts, as of late,” Wanda begins, sitting forward, unhelpfully pronouncing her cleavage. “Sleepless nights, dreams in the morning. Fantasy, but not quite. Yearning would be a more apt description, wouldn’t it, for something that you crave so dearly when you know it’s impossible to attain.”

You’re lost, a little hazy between the lines, caught somewhere between comprehending Wanda’s speech and staring wide-eyed at her chest. 

“What do you mean?” you ask, suddenly breathless, choking under your stifling garments and feeling unbearably warm in the heat of your enclosed office.

Your big hands flex and release, toying with something, anything, to distract you, and the older nun is prone to gazing hungrily. 

“Sex,” Wanda finally states unabashedly, and you choke on stilled air and the scent of old books. 

Sex.

“S-sex?” You ask, heat rushing to your ears, praying that you’d misheard or something of the sort, but at the same time more alive than you’d ever been.

“Yes, Reverend L/N, sex. It’s dirty, and raw, and everything we’ve been taught not to pay heed to,” Wanda begins in a breathless rush of eagerness, and you’re swept along in her unstoppable hurricane, on the brink of something inexplicable.

“But oh, it feels so good, and I crave it more than anything. More than life itself, if that’s even possible, because this desire is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. And, mark my language and bless the Lord above, but Christ — I’ve never yearned for this object of my desires so deeply and intrinsically. Someone, to be specific.”

You listen with a distant look in your eyes, your brainwaves fusing somewhere between “dirty” and “raw”. Still, your heart lurches at the prospect of another competitor for your forbidden love.

“Someone?” you ask, leaning back into your armchair and folding your arms. Your faux composure juxtaposes your thundering heart, as you die in anticipation and perhaps something dirtier.

“Yes,” Wanda simply states. She tilts her head, furrows her brows as if contemplating something. Then she nods, self-assuredly, and before you can get another word out, the older nun seals your fate.

“That someone is you.”

You’d always been a believer, but in that moment your heart transcends the physical boundaries of life before death, and you ascend to heaven and see the pearly gates, before Lucifer strikes you down to an undeniable reality.

“You think of me…… indecently?” You ask, almost a whisper, as if fearful of waiting ears on this cathedral’s dead night.

“Once again, yes. Call me presumptuous, but I believe your rock-solid erection is telling of the mutual lust we share, Reverend.”

You splutter, just now realising your uncooperative dick is nearly at full-mast. 

“But,” you try, licking your lips in an anxious motion that has the older nun intently more aroused. “I’m— I’m not too experienced in that prospect, Sister. Not that I’m declining your request, definitely not, I— I simply fear I’m no good at satiating your needs.”

“You could never disappoint me,” Wanda responds in a sweet tone, and your heart explodes in some unexplored liking for older women’s approval. 

Wanda stands up, and your gaze follows your esteemed temptress. “Besides,” she adds, her voice carrying a lightness you’d never heard before. “Experimenting is half the fun, isn’t it?”

It feels as though no time passes before Wanda is standing before you, a light hand tilting your head up as you become still in your seat, her right thumb tracing the curve of your jaw.

“Well, Sister, I suppose you’re right as always,” you answer breathlessly, a hand going to cup the smooth curve of her waist. 

Each breath feels like rarest air as your eyes flutter shut, waiting patiently for the slow dip of Wanda’s head, as she brings you into a fated, ceremonial sealing of warm lips.

Wanda moves in a controlled manner at first, clearly more experienced than you, methodically moving her lips in a rocking motion as you find your pace.

Gradually, as a simple kiss grows lacking in the face of your burning passion and Wanda’s tentativeness fades away, you deepen the kiss, slanting your mouth against the nun’s, almost like you’d done it a thousand times, like it was meant to be.

Two pairs of lips move in haunting remembrance, cascading like the ebb and flow of a wave, the tide that washes over you in saintly baptism, cloaking you with the gentleness of an angel’s wings.

“Oh,” Wanda murmurs against your lips, a tiny gasp slipping from her mouth as your hands eagerly slide over the curve of her ass, devotional, wanting.

She straddles your waist, comfortably sat in your lap. It takes Herculean self-restraint for you to not to moan at the expanse of soft skin pressed against your robes. 

“You’re certainly eager, aren’t you,” Wanda quips with a satisfied sigh, hands running up and over your arms and torso, certainly soaking in the new closeness that propriety once prevented.

“I am,” you utter dazedly, hands desperately palming at every inch of Wanda you can find, trying to memorise every curve and blemish. This moment, right here, was a sacred happening you’d only fantasised on the dirtiest nights, in some hopeless damnation of your unrequited love.

Requited indeed it was, and you’d never been more receptive to being proved wrong, as Wanda leisurely grinds on the bulge in your robes, controlling your pleasure like the puppeteer of a marionette. 

“Too many clothes,” she groans, as you helplessly begin bucking your hips into the rocking motions of her hips. Your acquiescence comes in the form of the frantic removal of your robes, Wanda nearly ripping off your pants underneath. It leaves you feeling awfully exposed in a tight-fitting white tee and grey boyshorts.

Uneven exhales resound in the space between the two of you, 

“Don’t look at me like that,” you whisper, embarrassment tainting the tips of your ears and a flush that races down your neck. 

“How could I not, my sweet,” Wanda answers in a sweet murmur, delicate lips trailing down the column of your neck as she shifts on your lap. “You’re perfect.”

Your eyes flutter shut as Wanda’s hand slips down the band of your boyshorts, pulling out your cock as it springs out of its confinement. It’s big, you know it is, and you watch in anticipation as Wanda’s eyes darken several shades.

“It’s alright?” You ask, albeit tentatively, gripping the base of your cock to stop yourself from climaxing right then and there. “I’ve never— you know.”

“More than alright, darling,” Wanda murmurs with crescented eyelids, tracing the winding vein on the left side, fingertips rubbing at your tip in some sort of wonderment.

The sheer size difference of her pale hand and your thick cock changes your brain on a chemical level, and you think that this is going to be embarrassingly quick.

“Wanda,” you pant into the open air, your voice hoarse and your gaze hungry. Her hand furiously jackhammers up and down the length of your thick shaft, from base to tip, spraying droplets of pre-cum all over the both of you.

You let out an almost-whine as you throw your head back, chasing that warm heat that’d only ever been a part of your most sinful dreams. Wanda must be an expert at this, you think, as her thumb rubs your sensitive tip with each hard thrust of her hand.

“I’m gonna— fuck, oh God,” you gasp, and Wanda quietens you by pulling you into a messy kiss. Tongues envelop one another, and it’s sloppy, and wet, but pleasure is coursing through your bloodstream, ferocious devotion in an excruciatingly fast hurdle to a preordained climax.

“Wanda, you have to stop, or I’m gonna—”

“Isn’t that the whole point, darling? Do it inside.”

Wanda lifts her hips, revealing her wet heat to your starry gaze. It looks like some delicate flower you’d find in a faraway field, except it was something you craved to feel, and suddenly the desire in your stomach is unbearable and you move with frantic urgency.

You groan as your tip brushes against her velvet wetness, finally, collecting trails of slick to make it even more damp than it was prior. Wanda sinks downward with a shaky exhale, and the soft heat that envelops your shaft is the holiest shrine you’d ever chanced upon.

“Wanda,” you say, swallowing, big hands moving to grip at her hips, slowly opening her up with each inch. 

Eventually, the slow pace drives you to the edge of insanity, and you begin your freefall with an abrupt change of heart. All too soon, the atmosphere surrounding the two of you becomes hot, rough, dirty — just like how Wanda explained it, fulfilling the filthiest fantasies of two wandering minds.

“Y/N!” Wanda calls out, panting, locks of hair falling out of place as you roughly manhandle her hips up and down your thick length.

Her delightful moans are heaven to your ears, as your fingers dig into plush skin, a sweetness naught would remove from your reach.

"I'm close," she whines into your ear, the fabric of her negligee clinging to flushed skin, your boyshorts all damp with your bodily fluids.

She slides down and up at a lightning-fast pace, both of you desperately chasing down each other's pleasure. Her pussy constricts your thick shaft in a tight hold, and your hands are none the better, palming at her ass.

"Oh, God," the older nun whines, when you increase the pace in a last-ditch attempt, the sound of bare skin meeting enveloping the room in a heady, aroused mess.

Your eyes find the crucifix across the room just before you tip over that edge one would view in reverence, hurtling downwards like Lucifer with his tainted lips, calling out Wanda's name in a breathless cry—

And there is devotion in your shared sin, breathless cries spilling from tainted lips, where grace is found in a mismatched harmony, and two sinners turn away from repentance.

"Oh!" Wanda cries out, thighs wrapping around your torso, head thrown back in a picture of evangelical reverence.

You think Wanda is the only altar you’d ever need, prayerless faithfulness in devout worship, a lowly pilgrim knelt before a holy shrine. “Fuck,” you breathe, as Wanda collapses above you, soft pants gradually becoming steady again.

“I knew you’d be perfect,” Sister Wanda — no, just Wanda — whispers, still straddling your lap with her palms pressed to the sides of your face in a gentle cradle. “Thank the heavens I found you.”

“What happens next?” You ask. There is a tremble in your voice, a fear of the unknown. There were prying eyes of religious watchers, where critical judgement of the queer community was prevalent in this time, where bravery did not always triumph over prejudice.

“What happens to us?”

Wanda’s lips brush against your forehead, her gentleness lulling you into utopia. “Only God knows, my love,” she whispers back.

It is then that you realise it didn’t matter, anyways, wherever you’d end up, as long as it was with your sacred, sanctimonial love.

so... how was that in all of its religious and horny imagery?? haven't written for wanda in forever omg. can yall spot the ttpd lyrics lol (side note: ttpd has some of the most profound lyrics i’ve ever heard, i can only aspire to achieve that level of literary greatness.) reblog please literally getting down on my knees atp main m.list

[maaike-lamsens-7]

My GRACE song

[doumadono]

Hey! For sinful Sunday - can I ask for a needy fem reader who is teasing Shiggy while he's gaming? ❤️

Warnings: oral (m receiving), some spanking, cowgirl, creampie, a little angry Shiggy in the beginning, established relationship

A/N: this request received the most votes during the first Sinful Sunday poll I held over a week ago. Thank you to everyone who voted!

SINFUL SUNDAY MY HERO ACADEMIA

Shigaraki was engrossed in his game, the controller clenched tightly in his partially gloved hands as he navigated through the virtual world of Mortal Kombat X. He was so focused, his fingers moving rapidly over the controller, his eyes fixed on the screen; his eyes lit up with every victory, and his brow furrowed with every defeat.

You had been eyeing Shigaraki from across the room all evening, completely oblivious to your presence. But you had been feeling needy that night, craving your boyfriend’s attention and touch.

Slowly, you approached a couch, your steps light as you came to stand behind him. You could feel the warmth of his body radiating off him, and the urge to touch him had become overwhelming. Leaning in from behind, you brushed your lips against the shell of his ear, sending a shiver down his spine. "Hey there, handsome," you purred, your voice low and sultry. Your hands slowly trailed over his shoulders, then moved down to his chest, clad in a dark pullover.

He turned to look at you, and when your eyes met, he asked bluntly, "What do you want?"

"Mind if I join you? I just wanted to spend some time with my handsome boyfriend.”

Shigaraki's fingers faltered for a moment, his attention torn between the game and your proximity. He was reluctant at first, trying to focus on the game, but your soft touches and whispered words were too distracting to ignore.

"Sure," Shigaraki agreed with a nod, though he added with a sigh, "But try not to distract me too much. I’m in the middle of a crucial match."

You trailed kisses along his neck, feeling the tension in his muscles slowly melt away. Your hands roamed over his chest as you pressed your body against his back from behind.

"Come on, Tomura," you whispered, your breath hot against the skin on the column of his neck. "Don't you want to take a break? You’ve been playing for hours."

Shigaraki growled at you, "I already told you not to bother me, doll." He motioned for you to sit beside him, adding, "But you can stay. Just be quiet."

You sat beside him on the old, worn-out couch. For a moment, you just watched the flickering screen and how he knocked his opponents down. Yet after a moment, you grew bored and decided to return to your earlier plan.

Suddenly, Tomura felt your hand on his thigh, inching closer and closer to his crotch. He gasped as you began to stroke him through his pants, your touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through his body. Shigaraki's grip tightened on the controller. Irritation flashed in his eyes, but it was quickly overshadowed by the sensation of your touch. He bit his chapped lower lip, a mix of annoyance and pleasure evident on his face as he struggled to focus on the game. "Cut it out," he uttered, his voice tinged with frustration. He tried to push your hand away, but you were insistent. 

Despite his protests, he couldn't deny the thrill of your touch, the waves of pleasure coursing through his body distracting him from the game at hand. 

You knelt down beside him, your hands slowly making their way up his thighs. You could feel the tension in his body increase as your fingertips grazed the bulge in his pants yet again. 

Shigaraki glanced over at you, his eyes glistening with anger, but he didn't stop playing, and you took that as a good sign. You began to rub his growing erection through his pants again, your fingers tracing the outline of his cock. You could hear him let out a low groan, and it only spurred you on.

You reached for his fly, undoing it slowly and pulling his cock out.

Shigaraki's eyes never left the screen, but his breathing became more labored, and he went beet red, even though his cheeks were usually very pale. “Doll,” he warned you within a husky tone. “I’m fucking busy.”

You pulled his cock out fully, marveling at its size and girth. “Yeah, Shiggy, I know.” You licked your lips in anticipation, before leaning in and taking him into your mouth.

Shigaraki let out a loud moan, his fingers slipping on the controller, causing him to lose the match. “Fuck!” he cursed loudly, throwing his head back. Shigaraki yanked you by your hair off his cock, his crimson eyes piercing as he looked at you. With a light slap on your cheek, he spoke in a commanding tone, "Better make this worth it with that pretty mouth of yours, needy slut."

You chuckled softly, lowering your head again and wrapping your lips around his dick, your tongue swirling around the dusty rose head of his cock. You took him deeper into your mouth, your hands gripping his thighs for leverage. You could hear the sound of wet, sloppy suction as you worked him over, your hands cupping his balls and gently massaging them occasionally, and it only spurred you on more.

Shigaraki's hips began to buck, his cock sliding in and out of your mouth as he started another match. He was in pure bliss, lost in the sensations of your touch. He already considered it the best blowjob of his life.

You could feel him getting closer to the edge, his breathing becoming more ragged. You redoubled your efforts, your tongue flicking against the underside of his cock.

"Fuck, yes, just like that, doll," Shigaraki groaned, the fingers of his left hand  finally letting go of the controller. He reached down, his hand tangling in your hair as he fucked your mouth, pressing your head to his groin. His cock was throbbing in your mouth.

You began to drool all over his cock, your  saliva dripping down onto his balls, staining his pants as well. You then took Shiggy's cock out of your mouth and began to lick and suck his balls. 

Tomura let out a loud moan as your tongue swirled around his sensitive sac. 

You took one of his balls into your warm mouth and sucked on it gently, causing the man to shudder with pleasure.

You went back to sucking your boyfriend's cock, taking it as deep into your mouth as you could. Using your hand to stroke his shaft in time with your mouth, you caused him to groan deeply. 

He could feel himself getting closer and closer to exploding. With a final, guttural groan, Shigaraki came, his cum filling your mouth and cascading down your throat.

You swallowed it all down greedily, your own arousal reaching new heights. You pulled away, licking your lips and smiling up at him, making the best puppy eyes. 

Shigaraki looked down at you, his eyes hazy with lust. "You're incredible," he whispered, before grabbing your chin between his thumb and index finger, pulling you closer and capturing your lips in a searing kiss.

Finally, he set down the controller, turning to face you fully with a hungry look in his eyes.

With a sultry smirk, you slowly mounted his lap, feeling the heat between your bodies ignite. His hands roamed over your curves, his touch sending sparks of pleasure coursing through your veins. You moaned softly as his lips found yours again, the kiss deep and passionate, igniting a fire within you that couldn't be extinguished. You ground your crotch against his penis, which was still coated with a mixture of your saliva and his own cum. You wrapped your hand around the thick, slick shaft, stroking it slowly as you gazed into his eyes. "I need you so fucking much," you whimpered, running your tongue over your lips. You hoisted your skirt up, moving your cotton panties to the side, and positioned yourself directly over Shiggy’s cock. With one swift movement, you guided his penis inside your needy pussy, gasping as you felt him fill you completely, painfully stretching your velvety walls out.

You both let out a sigh of pleasure as you began to move in sync - you grinding your hips against him as you rode his cock, and him guiding your movements as he thrust up into you.

As your orgasm built, you threw your head back, letting out a series of moans and gasps as you held tightly onto his shoulder. "Tomura, Tomura, Tomura, just like that," you begged, sounding like the most pathetic bitch.

Tomura's own pleasure mounted, and he knew he wouldn't be able to hold out much longer. He reached both hands out and grasped the meat of your ass, squeezing and spanking it harshly. "Ride my cock, bitch. Show me how much you wanted my dick inside your pathetic, needy cunt."

You increased our pace, practically bouncing on his cock, making the couch creak. You could feel his cock swelling inside you. 

He groaned, his body tensing as he came for the second time that evening, filling you with ropes of his warm cum. 

You continued to ride him, milking every last drop from his cock as your own orgasm washed over you as well, your walls clenching rhythmically around his cock that started getting flabby.

Spent and satisfied, you collapsed against Shigaraki's chest, your breathing slowing as you reveled in the afterglow of your passionate encounter. You shared a soft, tender kiss.

"I'm sorry I distracted you, and you lost that one game," you murmured, a hint of guilt in your voice. "But I couldn't help myself. I was just throbbing with need."

Shigaraki kissed the tip of your nose, caressing your cheek gently. "It's okay," he reassured you, his touch calming. "To be honest, I wasn't enjoying the game as much as I thought I would. I'll just have Kurogiri order me another fighting game."