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inmaki · 2 days

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gojo making fun of your other fwb

( smut, a little smthn while i work on my nanami fic <3 ) .

"just put it in, for fucks sake."

gojo chuckles, running his mushroom-shaped tip up and down your folds. every time he reaches your hole, he pushes his cock in just enough to breach your entrance, before pulling out and continuing his ministrations. like a fucking idiot.

"aw, y’want my dick that bad? 'need me to fill you up?" what about matsukawa?"

your expression sours, sending him an annoyed look. this was by far the first time he’s brought up his displeasure for your other friend, especially in bed.

“are you trying to make me dry?" you bark, trying to close your legs - which he immediately stops with a large hand. "if you wanna fuck, stop talking about him and hurry."

gojo rolls his eyes, despising the way you're practically defending the fucker. sure, he's just a friend too - but you were clearly his; you've always been addicted his lips against yours, his hands on your body, his cock against your cervix. now this other shithead thinks he can come and take that away?

he doesn't know how to handle it besides-

"is this how he fucks you?" suddenly, he forces only an inch or two inside you, barely thrusting in and out with a mischievous smile. a hum leaves his lips as your insides squeeze him firmly, but he's stubborn enough to hold back the urge to fill you up properly. "probably can’t reach anything, i bet even my fingers are bigger."

the audacity and immaturity of the man in front of you has you baffled. here you are, ready to be fucked into the mattress by him - and all he can do is joke about some other guy's dick length? you desperately want to scold him, tell him to fuck off - but as expected - the feeling of his fat cock not reaching where you need has your mind going blank in desperation.

"please.. just fuck me, toru."

he smirks, and without giving you any time to adjust, he's mercilessly slamming in the rest of his length so the tip presses right up against your womb. his balls smack against you from below, and you shiver at the feeling of his white pubic hair grazing your pelvis. "so i'm right? hah, what a fuckin' loser. 'course he has a small dick."

you're too busy catching your breath to hear him, and gojo smoothly takes that opportunity to throw your legs over his shoulders and press them against your chest, ensuring his cock hits your g-spot at the perfect angle. just how you like it.

the white-haired bastard can't help but smile, licking his lips at your rolled back eyes and the harmonious ah, ah, ah's that escape your throat with each brutal slam of his hips. "becoming my brainless cocksleeve as usual, so damn cute. only i can rearrange these guts, right?" he demands, bending you even further while getting right in your face.

"say it. say who owns this sloppy," thrust, "fucking," thrust, "pussy," thrust.

“you, only you!” the words tumble out of you before you can stop them.

“who?” he grinds right against your cervix, nearly pressing the tip of his nose against yours.

“sa- satoru!”

he rewards you by lowering a thumb to play with your clit, cerulean eyes staring into your very soul. “damn right. scream it louder.”

suddenly, a quiet ding! comes from your bedside table. gojo glances down to your blissed-out face, cautiously peering over to see a message from none other than the man of of the hour.

matsu: wyd? can i come over?

gojo smiles. typing in a response with one hand while the other keeps your thigh firmly against your chest.

you: yea, be quick daddy ;)

you would definitely kill him after this.

( reblogs & comments r appreciated if u enjoy! had this idea at 2am sorry if it’s bad <\3)

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civilight-eterna · 21 hours

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Hiii requesting horndragora, having an angry and steamy encounter in a Londonium alleyway

(cw: dubious consent, toxic yuri, enemies with benefits)

---

The order of "pin down the caster" was probably not meant to be taken so literally.

Horn had routed around Mandragora's cadre, covered by the debris that fell in the explosion, and at first contact, she'd managed to get behind her, far at the back lines of the fight.

A hand over her mouth and a chokehold later, and she's dragging the kicking feline into the back alley, unseen in the chaos.

"I'm not going to kill you. Just take a cat-nap until my squad passes over and I won't have to tear your head from your shoulders."

Mandragora's legs go weak faster than she expects them to and she staggers to kneel with her as she collapses to the ground, her knees splayed to either side of Horn's thigh.

They struggle for a few more seconds, in the interim of which, Horn realizes-

Mandragora is absolutely soaking between her legs.

It wouldn't be the first time someone has pissed themselves with fear while fighting with Horn, but that's precisely why she can tell that this isn't that. She's shocked, but not enough to loosen her grip.

"Are you-" Horn flexes her arm, tries to keep focused, but she can't seem to spit out the second half of her question-

-seriously about to cum from being strangled?

It's so beyond anything she could have fathomed that her arm slips in her distraction, and Mandragora throws her head back into her nose the next instant in a way that tells her she didn't even need to say it aloud. Heat trickles fast down both nostrils and through her bitten lip as the caster reverses her position, closes her hands around Horn's throat.

"Fuck, you-" She's coughing the words out. One of her eyes is red with broken blood vessels. Her hands aren't even that tight, or holding her in the right place to do the worst kind of damage. She's probably never been in a physical fight in her life where she had even glimpsed the 'winning' side. "Fuck you, you corn-fed Victorian cunt, it wasn't enough to try killing me? You wanted, to humiliate me too?"

Horn puts all her force into her legs, walking them inside Mandragora's guard to pound her feet hard into her chest. The feline goes flying through a brittle glass storefront, and when she chases her inside, she finds her scrambling to her feet, clutching a bleeding arm. A wall of rocks erupts behind Horn, sealing the door, the window, everything.

"Still want to blow us up, toy soldier?"

Horn growls, wordless fury building in her chest. Her team is on the other side, bleeding, enduring, and she can't clear it without burying them both.

"No, but maybe I'll use that hard head of yours as a battering ram if you keep talking." She wipes blood from her lip and flicks it across the floor.

A surge of energy bursts out of Mandragora and the rocks grow to triple their size, closing in the storefront, leaving about half the room to stand in. Horn staggers in the resulting quake and closes the distance between her and Mandragora, pouncing on her. A wolf on a kill.

Pin down the caster.

"You really want to die so badly?" Horn can't keep the sudden strain out of her voice.

"Don't you dare act like it's unbelievable or something! You don't get to pity me now-you're about a decade overdue! As if you have no idea how I've lived!" She's wiggling her wrists under Horn's grip, twisting from side to side in futile struggle.

"Oh, I've an idea," Horn breathes out, "'Mandragora'. Something that is ripped, screaming and crying, from the dirt. Did you choose that yourself? Or was it a 'gift'-" Her glare is molten, haloed in the curtain of wheat-colored hair obscuring them, "-from that beloved Leader of yours?"

Mandragora roars, thrashing and kicking, her fingers curling downwards and grasping, desperate to scratch.

"I'd do it again-I'd claw myself out from under as many bodies it takes to make you Victorians bleed even another drop-!"

Horn suddenly realizes how she's going to get them out of this.

It's unpleasant. It's nothing she would ever consider in any other circumstance.

She knows it'll work so she knows she's going to do it.

But it is all kinds of wrong.

"Alright, little feline-" Horn grimaces, and pushes her knee between Mandragora's legs, eliciting a scandalized gasp, "-bury us here, then. And when historians come to uncover us, maybe ten years from now, maybe one hundred years from now, they'll find Dublinn's caster and the 'White Wolf of Victoria'-"

She readjusts her arms, one around Mandragora's waist, the other raised to press a palm to her cheek in the most saccharine and overtly romantic display of affection she can imagine as she presses her forehead to hers.

"-locked together as star-crossed lovers that deserted their battlefield to die in one another's arms."

"You bitc-mmph-!"

Horn kisses her, hard, leans into her with her full weight, pulls at her slight waist and runs her fingers through her hair like she's never loved anyone else in her life.

Mandragora's nails destroy her back. She's screaming against her mouth, biting at her lips, but Horn readjusts for every inch of purchase she makes.

"Fucking Victorians-!" Mandragora howls, as Horn shifts her mouth over her throat, smothers it with bruising kisses, "-Faking's all you're good for-!"

"What about you?" Horn breathes into her ear, "Were you faking it when you nearly came from being choked out? Or are you that much of a pervert in general? Could it have been anyone but me behind you?" Horn strokes her hair out of her eyes, and Mandragora grabs her wrist so hard her nails are drawing blood.

"I don't know, I think you just love me that much that you would die in my arms."

There's something wrong with the kiss that follows. Tears prick the corners of Mandragora's eyes as she tries to force Horn back, but she's no match for her physical force. They're both exhausted.

The kissing becomes ever-so-slightly less performative on Horn's part. Mandragora's lips part just a touch wider, and even though Horn has been avoiding it, she finds her tongue sliding deep into her mouth.

"Hh...Hhah, fuck-" Mandragora whimpers, trembling with the urge to resist using her arts, overshoot her power. Horn's knee rubs slowly between her legs and she swears louder before she's silenced with an even deeper kiss.

"Mmhm." Horn exhales hard and gasps as Mandragora's cold hands slide under her tank, drag it up just over her breasts. This wasn't in the plan, she thinks distantly to herself.

"Victorian pig-" Mandragora spits, "-I bet you're, hah-used to sweating like an animal-on a leash with some crystal-studded plug up your ass, some noble's concubine because they pay big money to fuck their soldiers-"

Disgusting. Horn should be disgusted.

There should be no other emotions present at the revelation of such a filthy fantasy that her enemy has fashioned for her.

"You think about me a lot at night, don't you? All alone with your preoccupying hatred. Hope it keeps you warm, little feline."

"I was born from a grave. I've never been warm in my life."

"Then may my love for you sow warmth anew that entwines us together for the ages. I'll save you. You'll never be cold again under my embrace-"

"SHUT UP!"

The entire store quakes, the roof blowing off into the sky, the rocks vibrating so violently they become dust and powder overhead. Everything comes crumbling down.

On instinct, Horn throws her arms over Mandragora's head, ducks and covers until it's over.

They stare at one another. A voice from afar breaks the reverie.

"Aye! Captain?!"

They're both rolling away from each other, running opposite directions. Mandragora stops at the other side of the store, hand on the doorframe.

"-This never fucking happened, toy soldier."

"-Agreed."

(It's not the first lie they've told.)

#arknights #horn (arknights)#mandragora (arknights)#requests #my writing #foetp: impale you with my rock #dubious consent #toxic yuri #enemies with benefits #manipulation #these two really are the toxic yuri of all time #slowly working through requests #thank you for your patience!#horndragora

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mariclerc · 3 hours

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A project of love | ls2

Summary: where you have to do a project with your crush and you try not to fall for him.

Warning: none.

a/n: requested and dedicated by @bananaleclerc I hope you like it!! And yes, I need a break from posting so much 😂😂

You're hunched over a textbook at a library table, surrounded by scattered notes and a half-eaten granola bar. Just then Logan enters the library, a whirlwind of energy and a backpack overflowing with what looks like every microbiology textbook ever written.

He slammed his books down next to you. “Hey there, study buddy! Ready to conquer the microscopic world?”

You jump a little, startled. He flashes a dazzling smile. “Uh, yeah, hi Logan. I was just... uh... reviewing.” You say, trying to sound casual.

“Awesome! Me too. Though, to be honest, my brain feels like it's about to explode from all these bacteria names.” He pulls out a chair dramatically and sits down. “Did you get a chance to look at the project outline Professor Davies sent? Apparently, we're germ-fighting partners!”

Your stomach flips. Internally screaming, you manage a smile. “Yeah, I saw it. Partnered up, huh? Makes sense, I guess.”

“Definitely! We balance each other out, right? You with your quiet genius vibe, and me... well, I bring the enthusiasm.”

You laugh nervously, a blush creeping up your cheeks.

“I wouldn't call myself a genius, but hopefully, I can keep up with your... enthusiasm.”

“Oh, you will, trust me. So, what do you think? Should we start with some foundational stuff, or dive straight into the exciting world of, like, antibiotic resistance?” he grins.

You take a deep breath, trying to focus. “Maybe foundational stuff first? That way, we're both on the same page when we get to the more complex topics.”

”Sounds like a plan! But hey, don't worry about keeping up. Like I said, I'm basically a walking microbiology encyclopedia. Just ask away if you get lost.”

You nod, but your mind is racing. Trying to focus on the project feels impossible now that you're so close to him.

You clear your throat. “Okay, so... cell walls of bacteria... what were we talking about those in lecture?”

Logan launches into an explanation, peppered with jokes and pop culture references. You try to concentrate, but all you can think about is the way his eyes light up when he talks about something he's passionate about.

Later, after a productive study session, you're packing your things.

“So, should we meet again tomorrow? Same time, same place?”

You feel your heart pounding. “Uh, yeah, sure. Sounds good.”

“Great! Hey, you seem a little quiet today. Everything alright?” he asks softly.

You force a smile. “Yeah, no, I'm just... tired, I guess... All this studying.”

“Studying can be draining! But hey, at least we're suffering together, right?” He winks at you. “See you tomorrow, germ fighter!”

He flashes another smile and throws you a peace sign before walking off. You sigh, a mix of frustration and a secret thrill bubbling in your chest. Studying with Logan might be the most nerve-wracking, yet strangely fun, experience of your university career so far.

You watch him disappear into the library crowd, a bittersweet pang in your chest.

You mutter to yourself. “Germ fighter, huh? More like heartbreaker.”

You gather your things, a sudden wave of determination washing over you. You like Logan, a lot. But you can't let that distract you from the project. You take a deep breath and head out of the library, a plan forming in your mind.

***

The next day, you arrive at the study table a few minutes early. You've spent the morning making flashcards – not just on microbiology, but also on Logan's interests you've gleaned from his conversation snippets. Genetics? Check. Obsession with the movie "The Andromeda Strain"? Double check.

He bursts in, a little late and slightly out of breath.

“Sorry I'm late! Professor Davies got us sidetracked talking about her research on bioluminescent bacteria. Apparently, there's a kind that glows neon green – can you believe it?” He says hurriedly, making you laugh a little, just then he notices the flashcards on the table. “Whoa, flashcards? You serious?”

You nod smiling, not as nervously as yesterday. “Just thought they might help us remember all this complex stuff. Besides, I found some fun facts related to the topics we need to cover. Maybe a little trivia can keep things interesting?”

His eyes wide at your words. “You got fun facts about bacteria? Okay, you officially win coolest study partner ever! Shoot, let's hear one.”

You pick up a flashcard and grin. Maybe studying with Logan won't be so bad after all. Maybe you can find a way to balance your academic focus with a sprinkle of something more.

***

The following week becomes a whirlwind of flashcards, late-night library sessions fueled by takeout, and a slow, simmering tension between you and Logan. Your knowledge of bacteria trivia becomes legendary, earning you surprised yet impressed glances from Logan. He, in turn, starts bringing coffee (with extra whipped cream for you, which you secretly adore) and peppering the study sessions with personal anecdotes, revealing a surprisingly deep and caring side beneath his bubbly exterior.

One rainy afternoon, hunched over a microscope analyzing bacterial cultures, Logan asks. “Hey, you ever wonder what those bioluminescent bacteria actually look like in real life?”

You glance up, surprised by the sudden seriousness in his voice. “Not really.” you admit, “but Professor Davies said she has some under a special microscope in her lab. Maybe we could ask if we could take a peek after our next class?”

He grins, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Perfect... We can make it a little research adventure.”

The stolen glance you share sparks a warmth in your chest, a silent acknowledgement that this is more than just a study session. The next day, after you convince a hesitant Professor Davies to let you glimpse the glowing bacteria, you find yourselves alone in the dimly lit lab.

As you peer through the microscope, Logan leans closer, his shoulder brushing yours. “Wow.” he whispers, “they're incredible.”

You hum in agreement, captivated by the tiny emerald lights dancing before your eyes. The silence stretches, charged with unspoken emotions. You can feel the heat radiating from him, his breath tickling your ear.

Suddenly, the lab door bursts open, revealing Professor Davies returning from her meeting. You and Logan jump apart, both cheeks flushing a deep red.

“Did you get to see them?” she asks cheerfully.

“Yes, Professor,” you stammer a little bit, “they're amazing!”

As the week progresses, the air between you crackles with a new awareness. You find yourself stealing glances at Logan as he talks, your heart skipping a beat when he laughs at one of your jokes.

During a particularly frustrating attempt at culturing E. coli, you blurt out, “Ugh, these bacteria are so stubborn!”

“Hey,” Logan says softly, placing a hand on yours, “we'll figure it out together... Like always.”

His touch sends a jolt through you, and you meet his gaze, your eyes locked in a silent conversation. In that moment, you both know this partnership has become something more, a budding connection waiting to bloom amidst the petri dishes and microscopes.

The shared look hangs heavy in the air, the frustration of the stubborn E. coli forgotten. Logan's hand lingers on yours, his thumb gently brushing against your skin. You can feel the warmth radiating from him, and a blush creeps up your neck.

“Maybe,” he starts, his voice a low rumble, “we should take a break from these little buggers. Grab some coffee, clear our heads?”

You nod mutely, your heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs. Stepping out of the lab, the rain has stopped, leaving the air fresh and clean. As you walk side-by-side, a comfortable silence settles between you. You steal a glance at Logan, his profile sharp against the setting sun.

Reaching the familiar coffee shop you frequent, you order your usual, Logan opting for his favorite with extra whipped cream (a detail that makes your stomach flutter with a strange mix of amusement and affection). Settling into a quiet corner booth, you both sip your drinks, the tension still simmering beneath the surface.

“Thanks for sticking with this project,” Logan says, his gaze fixed on you. “It wouldn't have been nearly as fun without you.”

A shy smile graces your lips. “It wouldn't have been so bad with you either.”

He leans closer, his eyes searching yours. The air crackles with unspoken desire. In a voice barely above a whisper, he asks, “Can I do something?”

Your breath catches in your throat. You nod hesitantly, a shiver running down your spine. He closes the distance between you, his hand cupping your cheek. His touch is soft, sending a jolt of electricity through you.

The kiss is tentative at first, a brush of lips that sends a wave of heat through your body. But then, something shifts. He deepens the kiss, his hand moving to cradle your head, tilting it for better access. You melt into him, the taste of coffee and something uniquely Logan swirling on your tongue.

The kiss is brief, broken by a gasp for air. He leans his forehead against yours, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. Your eyes flutter open to meet his, a goofy grin plastered across his face.

“Wow,” he breathes, a mixture of awe and amusement in his voice.

You can only manage a shaky smile, your heart overflowing with a mix of exhilaration and nervousness. The world seems to tilt on its axis, and for a moment, only you and Logan exist in this small corner of the coffee shop.

As you pull back and smile, a newfound confidence sparks within you... Maybe this partnership, born amidst bacteria and microscopes, could blossom into something more. And you, for one, are eager to see where it leads.

#formula one x reader #f1 x you #logan sargeant #logan x reader #logan sargent x reader #logan sargeant imagine #logan sargeant x you #logan x you #logan x y/n #logan sargeant fluff #mariclerc fics

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thirstyforjere · 8 months

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So he's been lying to us about something...

#Lobster truthers RISE #I need it so far down my throat that I can't breathe #speak for the next month #it tickles my lungs #Until my ancestors can feel how bad I choke on it #Until I can list professional cock warmer on my CV #I NEED him pumping in me like my own heart #Until my legs vibrate like a Nokia 3310 #Until I can list his cock as my address #Until I cause a FUCKING FLOOD #käärijä #jere pöyhönen

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stevieschrodinger · 7 months

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Part One

Baker Steve and Rock Star Eddie wrong number AU

Part two

"Steve! You have no idea!" Eddie's laughing, and that always makes Steve laugh, too. He's clearly a little tipsy. "Everyone went mad for the cake! It's was just, gone! Here, I'll send you some pictures!"

"I know what it looked like Eds," but Steve's grinning, knowing he's talking to empty air, can hear Eddie very vaguely mumbling to himself as he looks through his camera roll. Next to Steve' ear, his phone vibrates several times.

"Anyway, Stevie, I was thinking," Eddie's back now, still clearly tipsy but sounding uncharacteristically sheepish, "it's Christmas kind of soon right? Going to need a cake or two there. New year. Easter. Birthdays and bar mitzvahs and...and... independence day...so I was thinking I should get my orders in now, you know? Avoid disappointment."

"Eddie," Steve starts, finds himself turning shy himself, "you don't have to have a cake on order just to talk to me."

"I, ah, don't?"

"No, I mean, pretty sure we're friends, right?"

"Friends," Eddie starts slowly, "there's, like, lots of different kinds of friends."

"Sure, sure," Steve agrees easily, butterflies running rampant in his stomach, "there's even, kind of, more than friends, really."

"That sounds really really great-"

"Eddie!" There's a cacophony in the background, people shouting, "man, you're missing your own party-"

The line goes dead, and Steve's left standing in the dim light of the evening, just staring at tomorrow's cake order where it's cooling on the racks. A minute later, his phone buzzes in his hand, "so sorry baby, talk tomorrow."

Steve smiles at his phone. He had gone a little quiet after finding out who Eddie really is. It had kind of surprised him. But then Eddie had text him, "did I do something? 😞" and Steve realised Eddie's entitled to his privacy, the same as anyone.

"Hey Stevie, how's your day?"

Steve has Eddie on speaker phone as he mixes batter, "pretty good so far, you? You hungover?"

"No, no, didn't get that wasted, too old for that nonsense now, you know?"

Steve laughs, "aren't you like, 25?"

"I mean, maybe. Definitely old enough to, like, think about settling down, you know?"

Steve's breath catches in his throat, excitement and nerves after their interrupted conversation last night, "yeah, you, thinking about that? With, uhm, someone?"

"Yeah, I am, it's just..." Steve's heart sinks in his chest," my job, you know, I travel a lot, and that would be a sacrifice for anyone, and I couldn't ask someone to live with that, you know?"

"Well...what if it wasn't? What if they just...went with you?"

"What if...this person...had a job they loved? Their own business they worked hard for?"

"Yeah," Steve agrees slowly, "but what if...well, take me for example. I love to bake, but I don't love my business. That's just a means to an end, you know? I don't always love the orders, I'd choose to make something else if I was doing it for fun. So if it were me, i'd give it up in a heartbeat as long as I can keep baking."

"Yeah? You mean it?"

"Yeah. Yeah Eddie, I mean it."

"I, I mean, sure. Good. Thanks. I mean, not thanks, I mean, good, that's great."

Steve grins at Eddie's ramblings.

"I'll be away though, soon, for a couple of months, like four months, so, maybe, we could keep talking and when, I mean, if you want, what I get back..."

"I'd like that." Steve fist pumps, silently celebrating. "You never actually told me what you do for work?". Steve's teasing him, but Eddie doesn't know that Steve knows so, Steve grins to himself and keeps his voice even.

"I ah, music?"

"Yeah, you have mentioned that before, but what about it?" Steve knows he's being a dick, he just can't help it though.

"I ah, travel, with the band," Eddie starts slowly, and that is technically not a lie, Steve thinks, "and I kind of, look after some of the instruments and...have a lot to do with the sound checks? Like I'm definitely always there, for every sound check, like, I have to be."

All of that is probably true, Steve thinks, and god bless Eddie for not wanting to actually lie to Steve.

"Oh right, and what's the band called?"

"Oh, they're like, heavy metal, you've definitely never heard of them."

After they get off the call, Steve laughs all afternoon.

#eddie munson #stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #baking #baker steve Harrington #rock star eddie munson

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ghouljams · 2 months

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Courting (Letters from Lt. Riley)

tags: regency au, Ghost x f!reader/OC, courting, letters, Ghost flirting and also being so weird with it, courting gifts

summary: You told Ghost he could write you. He does.

The maids drop off the letter while you're in the study. The wax seal on the front is unbroken, which you find strange. Aren't parents normally supposed inspect courting letters? You suppose you should be thankful your mother isn't a noble by birth, she doesn't have the same care for propriety you know others do. She's always maintained that love is for the people involved and no one else. Though, love is a far stretch for your feelings as far as you're concerned.

Ghost seems to go out of his way to aggravate and annoy you. You will say... you've never enjoyed conversations quite so much as you enjoy them with him, and you've never had a man entertain your debating so well, and you suppose his eyes are rather warm and honeyed enough to catch attention. You like that you can see the curve of his lips under his mask when he smiles, and that the lines beside his eyes crease when he looks at you. And you like his hands, you suppose, if you had to pick something.

You break the seal of the letter and unfold the thick paper. There's a thin sheet of silver paper covering the actual writing and you scoff at the precaution. Surely the man isn't saying anything so scandalous as to need more protection from prying eyes. Still, you're careful removing the tissue-y layer.

Your breath catches in your throat, fingers hovering to trace carefully over the lines of charcoal covering the page. It dirties your glove and you're quick to avoid touching the paper directly, lest you sully the careful work of portraiture. It's you, your profile staring determined off into the distance, a slight frown on your lovingly shaped lips and a gentle crease to your brow. You wonder what your charcoal double must be thinking to have such an expression. You recognize the necklace he's haphazardly rendered, a gift from your mother you wore at the first party of the season.

How long has he been thinking of you?

There's tight cursive at the bottom of the page, "I have nothing to say, except that you're the most beautiful creature I've ever had the misfortune of knowing. -Lt. Riley"

Your heart flutters so hard, batters so aggressively against your rib cage, that you don't even notice the heat in your cheeks. You call rush to find pen and paper to write back.

You're having breakfast with your parents when the maid brings you a letter. You recognize the red wax seal immediately and slide your fingers under the paper's fold to break it quickly. The crack of wax fills the silent room, and you look up from your work to see your parents watching you. You father rests his chin on his laced fingers, and your mother quietly sips her tea. The letter is carefully placed to the side and your mother smiles, setting down her cup to draw one of your father's hands into her own grip.

"Don't let us keep you," You father rumbles, you can't tell if he's upset or pleased. His voice carefully neutral.

"It can wait until after breakfast," You tell him peaceably, picking up your fork again.

"Give it a read now dear, you'll upset your stomach rushing through meals." Your mother, ever the doctor, encourages. You tamp down your smile and unfold the letter, your fingers feeling for another sheet of silver paper. You're almost disappointed not to find one. You suppose you can't expect a gift of that quality every time. Once again the actual letter is short and neatly penned,

"Arguing with me won't make me march down there princess. Not that the idea hasn't crossed my mind, but I'd be gone as soon as I saw you, lost as soon as you opened your mouth. You make me lose all rational thought, and yet you consume my every waking moment. There is no distance I could travel that I would not still be haunted by the memory of you. If I'd never been assigned to your escort I would have been a saner man, miserable for never having known you. Argue with that.

Did you miss every one of your penmanship lessons?

Lt. Riley"

You smile to yourself, your thumb rubbing against the paper. He's pressed little flowers into the folds, their colors bleeding into the page and their petals falling into your lap. You pluck them carefully from your skirt, dutifully avoiding thoughts of your suitor, and place them back in the folds of Ghost's letter. You'll have to write him later, you know he's egging you on, but really he should know better than to criticize a lady's calligraphy.

You look up from your work and meet your parent's stares. Your mother's thumb rubs against the back of your father's hand, you've always hoped for a match like theirs.

"Something nice?" Your mother asks, and you smile at her.

"Never," You tell her, "Lieutenant Riley is as rude in his letters as he was as an escort."

Your father hums, but you think you see the edge of a smile under his beard.

There's very little awkwardness in the letters between you and Ghost. He writes better than he speaks, but the bluntness is still there, the charm that made you first agree to this courtship. He makes your stomach clench, makes your heart flutter. He's rude and argumentative, and you find yourself hoping for every letter he sends you.

He's sweet.

He's terrible.

You hide his letters under your pillows, the ones that talk about kissing you, "Everywhere but your mouth," he writes, "so that I can still hear you." You sit on the chaise and chew your thumb reading the letters that promise you devotion, "you'd never worry where I was, I never wish to stray from your side." You hear your friends discussing suitor gifts, the scandalous things that pass through their aunt's inspection first, that their fathers shake their head at.

You think of the modesty panel laced into your stays, the carefully inked words along the edge of the gift, "if my lips were here they'd never leave."

You pluck Ghost's letter from the tray before your maid can even offer it. Your fingers quick to break the wax seal before you even find a place to sit. He never writes as much as you do, but he's purposeful with his words in a way that makes your heart sing.

"If it's the Scot I think it is your friend is fine. We can discuss when I pick you up this afternoon. Wear walking shoes. Love, Lt. Riley"

You snort, quite a way with words your lover. You nearly trip on your way up the stairs staring at his signature. "Love" be still your heart.

#x reader #simon ghost riley #cod x reader #x oc #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #cod x oc #ghost mw2 #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #ghost cod #oc: goose #regency au #return of ghost being an artist which is my personal favorite thing

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tojirights · 3 months

Note

Okay this is going to sound like really bad but I did read your rules and saw that dubcon/noncon could be allowed so

please begging for a dub/noncon (up to u which) crumbs where Alastor is tired of reader's stubbornness and thinks it's time to really let her know her place (al owns her soul) and okay thank u bye pwosjdjeidnsj *runs and hides under a rock in shame*

a/n: HAAA YESSS. no this is amazing 😍😍

tags: 18+ smut nsfw, NONCON‼️, alastor is a demon fr, forced penetration, dacryphilia, choking, slight throat fucking

"good morning, would you be a dear and run this to rosie for me?" alastor pops into your room unannounced, as usual. you're tired, he had you up all night on another shitty errand, and you just want to sleep a little longer. "alastor please, can't anyone else do it?" you sigh, irritation bubbling in your chest. he never lets you rest.

alastor raises an eyebrow. "no one else is available." his tone is harsh, and when you meet his eyes, they're darker than they were a moment before. "this is the part where you're supposed to submit, say 'yes sir' and get out of bed." he leans on his staff, glaring red eyes staring through you. "or did you forget?" your eyes widen when you realize what he's about to do. there's a flash of green, and you feel the clasp of that shitty metal collar around your neck.

your deal with alastor backfired, just as he intended it to, and he ended up not having to do a god damned thing in exchange for your soul.

with a sharp tug of his chain, you're forced to sit up. the pull around your neck makes you cough, and you glare back at him. but when you do, you're quickly filled with a certain level of primal fear. alastor was no joke when he was angry, eyes glowing red and those antlers growing from atop his head.

"you need to learn, my dear, that the word 'no' is not a part of your vocabulary anymore." alastor walks with slow, determined strides towards your bed before his knees hit your mattress. he tugs once more, pulling you up and onto your knees. "alastor don't..." your breath catches in your throat. his hand grips onto your jaw, squeezing you uncomfortably. tears prick in the corners of your eyes, and you let out a shaky sigh. "don't?" alastor repeats, laughing. "have you forgotten the fact that i own you?"

you reach for his wrist in an attempt to remove his hand but he's far stronger than you. "i-i'll go, i'm sorry." you hiccup, but alastor has already made up his mind. "mmh, i don't think so. i don't tolerate insubordination, darling." your heart hammers in your chest when alastor's fingers find his belt. "you’re going to learn one way or another." he growls, freeing his half-hard cock and tugging your restraint.

you clench your teeth, and try to look away but alastor's grasp is too tight. his thumb drags along the bottom of your lip before prying your jaw open. "listen and be my good girl, this won't be so bad." you shut your eyes, the only thing you can think to do to cope with alastor forcing the head of his cock between your lips. there's only a moment of hesitation, a sigh from the demon above you, before his cock is being slid further down your throat.

every groan from alastor earns another tear running down your cheek. his hands hold your face steady as he pumps his cock faster, fucking the back of your throat. "so pretty, darling. look at me." he grunts, pulling your eyes up to his. they're glassy with tears, and its almost enough to make alastor cum down your throat in that very instant.

his cock pulses and he's forced to pull out of your warm mouth in fear of releasing before getting to take your cunt too. he taps your cheek gently, watching you cough and recover your breath after having your airways restricted. "strip, then i want you ass up on the bed." your lip quivers, and your body refuses to move even after you tell it to. alastor sighs, shaking his head. "must i do everything?" his words are somehow gentle and harsh enough to pull a sob from your chest.

before you can stand, alastor reaches for the hem of your sleep shirt and tears it straight down the middle to expose your tits. on instinct, you try to cover yourself but alastor's shadow circles both your wrists and pins them to your side. "please alastor... i promise, i-i will do anything you ask. please just don't do this." you plead, but alastor just clicks his teeth with his tongue. "you should've thought about the consequences before this, my dear. i've found that making an example out of someone typically gives the best results."

he does release his shadows, freeing your wrists and watches carefully as you follow his previous instructions. you kick your shorts off with a muffled cry and turn to shove your face into the mattress. ass up, you prepare for whatever alastor has in mind. his fingers find your slit, delving into the wet heat between your thighs. the laugh he releases sends a chill down your spine. "wet as can be darling!" without giving you another moment to process, his cock is pushing thick and hard into your unprepared pussy.

your scream gets caught in your throat, heat coursing through your body in an overwhelming way. "n-no, too much alastor, please stop." you cry, muffled into the mattress as you try to scramble away from him but you feel alastor's shadow come back to pin your arms. you're trapped at this point, completely under alastor's control. there's no choice but to give in, your body going limp as alastor pumps his hips into you.

"good girl." he coos, raking his clawed hands down your back. angry red marks follow in its trail. "see how easy it is to just obey?" every inch of his cock pushes you to your limit. "such a good cunt..." he sighs, his hips stuttering before he pulls out and you feel each thick rope of cum hit your ass. you finally open your eyes, letting every emotion flow through them as alastor empties his balls all over you.

there's a moment of silence while alastor catches his breath. "now... will you be a dear and run this to rosie for me?" he reiterates, and your whole body tenses. is he not even giving you time to recover? to clean up? fuck...

"y-yes sir..."

#tw: noncon #tw noncon #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x you #alastor x reader smut #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel alastor smut #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor smut #alastor hazbin hotel smut #hazbin alastor #alastor hazbin #alastor x reader imagines #hazbin smut #alastor x you smut

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jeannineee · 3 months

Text

JJK men...dom, sub, or switch?

(ft. Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami)

author's note: just a little drabble??? While I work on smau. might do the other boys too.

warnings: uh straight up SMUT. Too much stuff to list here.

Satoru Gojo: switch

Satoru Gojo, who is the biggest tease. He knows your body like the back of his hand--knows exactly where to touch you, what buttons to push in order to have you writhing beneath him.

"This is where you're weak, right? RIght here?"

Satoru Gojo, who will edge you to the point of tears, and then some. He's mean, really. Plump lips latched to your nipples, biting and sucking at the sensitive flesh as he curls his fingers inside you so quickly that you can't catch your breath. He can tell when you're getting close through the way your moans grow louder, the way your walls pulse around him. And just when you're about to tip over the edge, he stops completely, a wicked grin forming on his face at the sight of your pouting, cock twitching in his pants at the sound of your begging.

"Doing so good f'me, pretty. Just a bit longer, alright?"

Satoru Gojo, who is desperate and needy the moment the roles are reversed. He'll do anything to hear your praise, to feel your touch. His brain turns to mush as soon as you wrap your hand around his cock, focused solely on the pleasure you're giving him.

"F-fuck, baby, please--please don't stop, so good, so good..."

Satoru Gojo, who loves hates when you overstimulate him. He's already so sensitive, hips bucking off the mattress as you relentlessly pump his cock, his abs tensed and painted white with strings of his release. He can hardly speak, the only noises escaping him being pathetic whines and half-hearted pleas as you work him through another orgasm.

"Ohhhh, fuck, I can't, b-baby, please. I'm cumming, I'm cumming..."

Suguru Geto: dominant

Suguru Geto, who, despite his seemingly laid-back and calm nature, is the complete opposite in the bedroom. He'll manhandle you into whatever position he wants--doggy is his favorite. He'll have one hand on your waist, keeping an almost bruising grip as the other hand wraps around your hair, pulling you flush against him.

"That's it, princess. Just a pretty little slut for me, hm? Taking me so well."

Suguru Geto, who loves having you on your knees for him. Making you stick your tongue out before tapping the head of his cock against it, reveling in the way your cheeks flush with embarassment. He'll let you take the lead at first, but if you allow him, he'll fist your hair into a ponytail, and use your throat like it's his personal toy.

"Such a good girl--fuck. 'S like you were made for my cock."

Suguru Geto, who will not put up with your attitude. He's normally so patient with you, so why would you be so snippy with him? Push him too far, and he'll have you over his knee before you can blink. He'll spank you till tears are streaming down your face, and then he'll put his fingers to use until the only word you know is "sorry."

"Can't take anymore? Oh? Why are you so wet, then? I've barely even started, lovey."

Kento Nanami: dominant

Kento Nanami, who uses you to rid himself of his pent-up frustration. His favorite way to do this is by having his tongue between your legs. Him, knelt in front of you, or you sitting on his face--he doesn't care. Either way, he's hooking his hands around your thighs, and sucking on your clit until you see stars.

"Taste so good, love. Just one more for me, okay? You can do it. I can never get enough of you."

Kento Nanami, who puts his tie to work in more ways than one. Sometimes, he'll blindfold you, rough and calloused hands tracing along your body until you're pleading for him to touch you where you need it most. Other times, he'll tie your hands behind your back, or above your head, and have his way with you.

"Fuck, you're so perfect. Squeezing me so tight. Gonna fill you up, yeah?"

Kento Nanami, whose mouth is uncharacteristically filthy compared to his composure outside of the bedroom. He won't degrade you. He couldn't imagine doing that to his sweet girl. But he loves to humiliate you; loves to see the way you avoid his gaze, as though you can hide from his words.

"Soaking through your panties, and I haven't even touched you yet. Is that all it takes, sweetheart? Don't hide from me. Let me see you."

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #Satoru Gojo x reader #gojo x reader #Gojo smut #Satoru Gojo smut #Suguru geto x reader #geto x reader #geto smut #Suguru geto smut #Kento Nanami x reader #Nanami x reader #Nanami smut #Kento Nanami smut #nanami headcanons #geto headcanons #gojo headcanons

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morgana-ren · 8 months

Note

i love angst, and i love your writing, but please, PLEASE, i beg you, could you write some hope of tav ever returning now that the imbecile, has realised the error of his ways 🥺😭 (either way, thank you so much, for all your astarion writtings, it has made me feel things, the angst is real and my masochistic heart loves it🥲)

First part of the story HERE

Common complaint I got on that one! So I fixed it just for y'all. This ending is much less sad and much more sappy, so here is the comfort you need after all that angst!

"Darling, will you smile for me? Just once more. Please--"

He feels her cheeks in his palms, the soft skin against his battle-hardened callouses. Desperation cradles his unbeating heart, and for a moment, the emotion is far too much. A searing flame after centuries of frost. A bonfire in a blizzard. It hurts-- it burns--

"My love, I just need you to--"

"Anything my lord, anything at all for you. Simply command me and I will do anything you ask."

"No, I can't-- I-- I won't do it. I won't. I won't!"

"My lord?"

Her head cocks, turning slowly to look upon him, but her eyes-- they are empty; beetle-black and hollow. Her smile is uncanny as a painted doll, her movements disjointed and inhuman. Her teeth are stained crimson with blood, dripping, dripping, ever dripping down, never swallowed, only pooling.

She is light as a feather as she slips away from him, her skin marbling into a sickly gray before ash spreads across her body as a disease, smearing her form into nothingness. Only her face is left untouched, pretty as porcelain, unflinching and unfalling save a small crack that splinters down from her forehead down to her eyes, revealing inky black abyss beneath.

"My lord-- Oh, my tender, vicious lord. I can feel your anguish-- your hunger. Devour me to be whole once more--"

Her blood smells of rot and she--

She is too far gone to save. Too far gone to ever be saved.

"I won't!"

Whirlwind. Pain. Confusion and dread and seeping anguish. A maelstrom of rage and all-consuming despair swelling from within his soul—

—his soul?

The world around him falls away, a wicked tornado thrashing him about, his mind howling in the eternal winds--

And suddenly he is in a chair.

Not a throne. A chair— and a rather uncomfortable one at that.

"What in the hells—"

His vision spins, nausea curling his gut into a wicked tide of sickness barely restrained by his teeth. He tastes stale blood crawling up his throat, threatening to overturn onto the faded rug beneath him.

"Did you see what you wished for, little spawn?"

The voice takes him by surprise. It is not hers, but another, less familiar voice. The wailing animal in his head retreats to a dull roar as his memory creeps back. A brightly colored tent assaults his vision, piecemeal rugs and odd, foreign trinkets abound on makeshift shelves, and before him sits a strange old woman, hood pulled heavy over her straggling gray hair.

"I-- What was that?"

He sees her cracked, aging lips upturn, gnarled hands placed protectively over a strange orb on the table touching his knees. "I have shown you your future, vampling. Was it to your liking?" Panic rises within his stomach again, and though he does not breathe, he clutches his chest. The smell of incense clogs his nostrils and again, the wave of sick threatens to spill forth. Wretched taste of metallic, aged blood sits heavy on his tongue, all sensation too much-- all of it too much.

"No-- No, that cannot be it!"

"This is your path, Pale Elf. The road you walk. The power you seek is well within your grasp, but as I told you before, it will cost you everything."

He vehemently shakes his head, denying it. Denying it before her and all the Gods.

"You told me upon entry that no price was too great for your reward. Do you still agree with this sentiment?"

"No! Not-- not her. Not her. Not that! I couldn't--"

"You can and you shall, sure as the moon follows the sun. You will have everything you ever wanted, but cost of this ritual is plain before you. You cared not for the many souls left to your mercy that are crushed beneath your tyrannical fist in your ascension, but what of the sole one that resides in your heart?"

Her. The light of his life. The air he breathes. The sun on his frigid flesh, the warmth that melts his icy heart.

"No," He hisses, trying to stand, but ultimately unable to muster the strength. "I won't! There-- There must be another way. Show me!"

"There is no other way," She says, solemnly. "It is inevitable."

He swallows down the information like a boulder lodged in his gullet. Her words echo endlessly in his mind, bouncing off the walls and lodging shards of ice directly in his soul.

"What if I-- What if I don't ascend? Tell me, what if I don't?"

She smiles again, teeth flashing through her thin lips. "That is another path, little elf." "I need to know. I-- I need certainty. I won't do this to her, but I--" He pauses, grappling with everything in his mind, desperately flitting about to absorb it all. "If I am going to forgo this, I need to be certain. I need to know that I can protect her, that she will be safe--"

But the woman simply shakes her head.

"Everyone must choose. For some, the path is dark, but for you, you see more than most will ever have the comfort of knowing. I can offer you nothing more. Should you initiate the Rite, you know this will come to pass. I can tell you nothing more if you choose to not. The future is yet unwritten, and the quill resides in your hands." "Then why can I not have both!" He slams a fist on the table, clawing at the soft wood. For the first time in ages, tears prick at his pale lashes and frustration wells a knot in his throat. "Why--" "Because one path is wholly your own, while the other is a tangled web, such is the nature of deals with the Hells. You will get everything you ever wanted and lose everything that made it worth having."

His head slumps, defeated and miserable. Silvery tears slide down the curves of his cheeks, even as he attempts to bite them back. He thought he would find comfort in knowing the future, but all it has given him is utter horror.

"Despair not," She continues. "Yes, you will wither under the sun, an eternally cursed dweller of the night, but all is not lost, is it? The one you love, will she stray from your side?" "I wanted her to have better than that," He sniffles, needling his lip with a fang. "I cannot brave the sun, but her-- She deserves better than that-- better than me."

"And what of what she feels?"

His brows furrow, and he peers up at the woman from tear-beaded lashes.

"You are a night walker; it is in your nature to be selfish. But love is not selfish, little vampling. You must fight your nature, your inherent self-loathing, or your love will always find the fire. What of what she desires?"

"She loves me," He says with absolute certainty. "And I--" "Do you love her?"

"Yes," He hisses, almost insulted that she would ask. "More than anything. I'm here, aren't I?"

"Then the rest matters naught. If you love her, you will allow her the agency to choose-- something you deny her as an ascendent. You must grow past your own follies. To love is to be vulnerable, and you must allow both yourself and her this freedom."

They are hard words to swallow, and yet, he feels the truth resound in them. She would not leave his side, even as he tried to force her to understand. Even as an instrument of his manipulation and schemes came to light, she stood steadfast with him, hand entwined in his, ready to face the fire together.

"I-- I need to know she will be safe."

Again, the woman shakes her head. "You cannot. You must fight fate if you wish to overturn it. You face dire odds, though throwing the dice in your favor now will doom you later should this outcome be the confirmation of your fears."

He sighs, face crinkling as he sniffs once more, summoning the willpower to swallow down the agony of his choice. He finds the strength in his legs to push himself upward from the chair, weak and shaking as a newborn fawn as he does so. "I will do whatever I need to. Anything."

"Then you may yet see this through."

He can hear the fanfare of the circus outside, the bawdy bards strumming away on their lutes and banging on drums, the elated screams of the children and their parents. Facing the light now seems impossible, but he must find his way home to her-- he has to be with her now now now--

"The coin first, boy."

He snaps out of his delirium only long enough to fish his hands into one of his pockets, bringing out a coin. Aged and neglected, the sinister engraving of a skull peers up at him from his palm, ruby eyes gleaming in the light as he tosses it into the woman's knobbily-jointed hands.

"Best of luck to you, night-child," She tucks it away. "We may yet meet again." "No offense, but I hope not."

"Me too, Little Star."

He pays little mind to the bustling streets and bursting taverns of Baldur's Gate, his feet carrying him back to camp as swiftly as his body will allow. It takes him until sundown even as he damn near jobs, ripping through the tree line and into the ruins with the intensity of a man starved.

"Astarion!" Karlach greets him, trying to wave him over. "I've got a bet with Gale about--" "Where is she?" Astarion immediately cuts her off, looking around frantically.

"Who?" Karlach raises a brow.

"Who else?" Wyll crosses his arms, looking intrigued at Astarion's intensity.

"Oh! In her tent, I think. Why? Gotcha a special something' in town for her, eh?" Karlach tries to rib at him, but he pushes past her without a second glance.

"Bet it's a fancy new dress he needs to tear off of her immediately," Karlach rolls her eyes before returning to her business.

He bursts into her tent to find her hunched over a book, tongue poking from between her teeth, as she scans over the page. This only lasts a few seconds before he scrambles onto the bed, squeezing her as tightly as he can manage, burying his nose into her hair, tears brimming in his eyes once more.

"Woah, hey!" She laughs, carefully setting her book aside, trying to discern what in the hells he is mumbling endlessly into her neck.

Need you-- need you-- love you-- can't lose you-- don't ever--

She hushes him, realizing something has gone terribly, terribly wrong, kissing his head and tugging him close. "Hey, what's wrong?"

She tries to cup his cheeks and bring his face up but he adamantly refuses, hard-swallowing the urge to bawl into her shoulder with every ounce of willpower he has. All he can manage is to cling to her, half sobbing, visions of that terrible future swimming in his head. He cannot let it come to pass, he will not--

And she holds him, cradling him in her arms, hushing him gently. Her face creases with worry, running her hands through his silvery hair as he pulls him into her lap.

"Little Star, what's wrong? You seem so upset. What can I do to make you happy, my love?"

"Is it done?" Ulma leans down as she enters the tent, carefully dodging the intricate tassels of the blanket strewn over the entryway.

"It is," The strange old woman replies, still rubbing the coin with her worn thumb.

"And?"

"I showed him nothing but truth," She says quietly. "I did not manipulate his vision. Only channeled it."

"That tells me nothing. I need to know if our children are safe."

"I cannot tell you this, Ulma. You know of the ways of our tribe; our relationship with these magics." Ulma's lips purse, her exasperation evident in her humorless expression. "I need to know--"

"His reaction was genuine. That was not my doing. He knows the price of power. I cannot tell you if he will pay it regardless," The old woman's head lifts, a slight mischievous smile playing on her lips. "But I can tell you what I think."

"And what do you think?"

"I have seen his soul-- the heart of it. I believe you will see our children yet. He will spare our heart to spare his own in kind. It beats in that woman," Her eyes twinkle in the low candlelight, a genuine smile widening across her cheeks. "I believe he can find redemption yet."

#morgana and friends #astarion #astarion spoilers #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #heh that last one messed yall up huh #heres a fix for it #SUPER sappy FYI #SO ENJOY!#I don't usually write sap (or angst) so I am bad at this #sorry its bad fellas #I GENUINELY could not think of a way for him to fix him becoming her cazador so uh #have a retconn #call this a fast fixer upper lmao

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norrisleclercf1 · 2 months

Note

Speaking of brat readerrrrr

Seb leaves to go get some things and gave her clear instructions not to do anything til he’s back but the second Charles his home she’s on his lap riding his thigh to get her release just for seb to come home and find her like that🫠🫣

Am I projecting? I’m projecting

A/N: Brat reader is back with Seb and Charles and she'd totally do this, and sweet Charles would be so clueless also, got a little out of hand in the end, have no shame

You whine, as Seb pushes you down into the couch staring at you, you who was currently only wearing an old ferrari t-shirt and nothing else, being a brat yet again. You just wanted one simple orgasm, but Sebastian was being a dick and refusing to help you out.

"I have told you to behave yourself and here you are acting like a whore. You even interrupted that important meeting because you don't know how to be a good girl." Sebastian sighs, with a slight squeeze of your throat, you arch up and whine spreading your legs.

"No, good girls get orgasms, bad girls stay here and don't touch themselves until I get back, do you understand?" You narrow your eyes, suddenly you remember something and go soft under his hold and sigh. "M sorry, I'll wait." You whisper, giving your best innocent look.

Sebastian smiles gently and lets go of your throat and kissing you sweetly. "Be a good girl, I'm going to run some errands, when i get back and you've been good maybe I'll let you sit on my face." You keen under that idea, but you were you, knowing damn well who'd be home soon. "Okay," You breath and Sebastian smiles, giving you a kiss on the forehead and leaving the apartment.

-----------------------

Hearing the keys jingle in the door, it's shoved open as Charles trudges through the door holding his bags. You sit on the couch, legs under you to hide your naked lower half from your tired and unsuspecting boyfriend.

"Hi, Charlie." You giggle, Charles looks over and smiles, his body shagging in relif at one of you being here to greet him. "Hello, my gorgeous girl," Charles walks over and leans down, kissing you so gently it felt like clouds on your lips. "Where's Sebastian?" Looking around the apartment, he notices the lack of the German.

"Went to run some errands, um Charles, I need help with something," You whisper, looking away but Charles grabs your chin and makes you look at him. "Baby, look at me, what'd wrong?" You smirk, knowing you were sinking your teeth into Charles.

Sweet, sweet, helpful and innocent Charles was about to join you in being in trouble with Sebastian. Of course, Charles would never believe you'd be a brat, you were just his good girl, and here you were manipulating that boy more than Ferrari.

"Help me?" You drop your legs slowly and spread them out, showing off how wet and puffy you were from how much you ached. "Awww love, did you get needy while Seb was gone?" Hook, line, and sinker. It was far too easy-to-get Charles to help you. "Yes, he's been gone so long and you're here and you know he'd be okay with you helping me. Please Charlie, I need you." Moving you flip each other where he's sitting on the couch and you're straddling his lap.

"Maybe we should wait for Seb," Charles hums, but you shake your head no. "Nooooo, you don't even have to fuck me, I'll ride your thigh, just please Charles, it hurts so much." You play at his emotions, making your eyes glossy, like you were about to cry. "Baby," He sighs, hands holding onto your waist and lowering you onto his thigh. "Fuck, but make it quick." Charles groans, feeling how wet you are, creating a damp spot on his sweats.

You gingerly move your hips back and forth, getting a good rhythm. Charles groans, holding your hips and helps you, but he moves around and wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into him. He can't help himself and raises your shirt and sucks in one of your tits. Whimpering you move faster, feeling that tug in your stomach as Charles nips and sucks on your tits drawing you closer.

"Mhm, fuckkkk," You whimper practically bouncing on Charles thigh, the two of you are so wrapped up in each other, you don't hear the door open or close. Sebastian hears the moans and sighs, shaking his head in disappointment. "Charlie, fuck m close," You cry the two of you so wrapped up in each other. "You can cum pretty girl," He groans, fuck Charles was so hard he might even come untouched.

Sebastian gently puts down his bags and walks up to you. Charles groans and looks up about to greet the older driver when Sebastian reachs up and wraps his hand around your throat and picks you off Charles. "Nooo," You cry, feeling that little bubble burst before you could cum. "Tsk tsk tsk, I gave you specific instructions, which were what?" He groans, trying to control himself, seeing the utter mess that is Charles.

He has such a blessed-out face, that Sebastian feels his shorts grow tight, seeing the messy hair, swollen lips and the slight dark spot where Charles's cock had made it wet. "Not to touch myself, and I didn't Sebby. Charles was touching me," You beg, but Sebastian sighs and lets you go. "Baby, you're about to learn the hard way." Sebastian steps forward and gathers a healthy amount of Charles's hair.

"You're going to sit there, no touching, me, Charlie, or yourself. And you're going to do that, as I fuck Charles. Do you understand?" Sebastian asks, Charles moaning as Seb pulls on his hair, throat back as Sebastian groans, Charles being his sweet baby. "Please, please Sebby, I'll be good." You beg, hating this punishment.

"Nope, you were bad, Charles was innocent in all this, so I'm going to reward him. On your knees baby boy." Charles moves quick getting on his knees while Sebastian moves pulling down his shorts and pulls out his cock. "You're going to learn the hard way on how to be good, maybe then you'll finally learn your lesson." Charles groans and reaches out but Seb moves pressing his tip against Charles mouth who opens it happily and sucks his boyfriend down. "Now, be a good girl and watch how to suck cock properly." Sebastian groans, as Charles takes him down with ease.

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angelltheninth · 6 months

Note

I am thinking about morax after archon war using reader as a toy and reader tries to escape him and gets caught I wonder what shall reader receive ෆ⁠╹⁠ ⁠.̮⁠ ⁠╹⁠ෆ

Evil Zhongli? He'd be hot ngl.

Pairing: Zhongli x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, non-con/dub-con, choking, rough sex, tail use, possessiveness, degradation, body betrayal, forced breeding, creampie, Reader getting pinned down, evil!Zhongi, possessive!Zhongli

Word count: 1k

A/N: This was supposed to be in the form of headcanons but it got out of hand.

It didn't matter where you were running to, how far, how long, all it mattered was to get away from the great Morax. Well you thought he was great once, you kissed that reality goodbye a long time ago. In reality he turned out to be an incredibly selfish man, taking what he wanted when he wanted it, his contract designed to bind you to him for eternity.

You didn't know that, how could you have known that? Because when a god comes along after so much destruction you don't ask many questions. Not when you're human.

"And where do you think you're going?" His raspy voice seemed to echo through the halls, everywhere, all around you. You were scared, dizzy, legs shaking from hours before. Surely he could smell that fear on you. It wasn't too late, you could still get away-

A dragon tail coiled itself around your neck, squeezing as you pulled at it, lifting you off the ground and bringing you face to face with the hooded figure, his body floating above the ground. He brought you closer to him, inches away from his face before he took the hood off to look at you directly.

He was truly beautiful. Golden eyes, his brown hair always kept neat, clean, tied in his ponytail, his arms bare, showing the marks sneaking down them. On the surface he was perfect, but underneath he was a monster.

"I need to... I can't do this anymore. Please, let me rest, just one night." You pleaded with him, your god, to have mercy on you.

"You ran from me and now you beg for me to let you go. We had an agreement, human." His warm fingers snaked up your face, so deceptive in their gentleness because you knew the pain they could bring, and the pleasure. "I should remind you of your role here." Your widened in fear and then in pain as your body was pushed to the ground, back facing him. Zhongli was on you on all fours, bracketing your whole body with his frame.

You couldn't even stand up the whole way without pushing your body into his, and feeling how excited he was to have you in this position. His tail once again wrapped around you, your ankle this time, ensuring that you won't get away from him. One of pushed your dress up, it was much nice than anything you owned prior. He always made sure his possessions were the finest.

The other hand traveled up your neck and grabbed your chin, his breath hot in your ear, "I do not understand. Haven't I given it all to you? Shelter, food, the finest clothes, security, protection, pleasure, more than a human woman like you could dream of." Gentle fingers rolled over your clit, making you let out an involuntary moan that was music to his ears, "And all I ask in return is that you be mine." The relief on your clit was brief, only long enough for him to push his pants down and reveal his hard cock. "You're mine. My human. My woman. Made for me, made for my cock, made for my seed."

You hated how easily his cock slid inside of you, how your body responded to his thrusts when moments before you were running in fear of him. It wasn't fair. "Stop. Please. It's too much. If you keep fucking me every night I'll..." You were too scared to scream for him, or maybe unable to because it hurt just to speak, your throat so sore from moaning, from being fucked raw by his cock every morning.

"You will not break on me, human. I'll make sure of that." Zhongli commanded and your body wanted to obey so badly. Your cunt squeezed around him despite the pain, "There you go. Good girl, I know you can take me every time. There's no more force necessary is there, your body knows it belongs to me, your pretty little holes know what they're good for."

"Cock." You answered when there was no question.

"Exactly darling. You're made for my cock, always have been, always shall be." With each hard thrust you found yourself moaning louder, your own voice foreign to your ears. He broke you so easily now, made you roll your hips against his, your ass slapping into him. You couldn't control yourself, only Zhongli could. "I cannot wait for your stomach to grow. I've never made children before, you'll be the first one I sire them with. Aren't you a lucky one?"

Children. Nine months? Shorter? Longer? How many did he want? Could you even handle birthing them for him? All those questions didn't seem to matter in the face of your oncoming orgasm.

Zhongli's breathing got faster, his thrusts sloppy, all the wanted was for his cock to be inside your pussy, it didn't matter how, he just needed to rut into you, fuck his cum into your womb, "I will always love you. I will never let you go darling, never." You came around his cock as you felt the ropes of cum rush into your cunt, his hand tight on your chin, the other palming at your clit, you called to god and he heard you, he was right behind you, fucking you. "I wonder how many times I need to claim that womb of yours with my seed before I see the results?"

He pulled out, finally letting your body hit the ground and let you turn on your back, fighting to catch your breath. You could feel tears streaming down your face, but you were unsure why. Fear? Excitement? Too much stimulation? All of the above. Whimpers were the only sounds you could make. Between your legs was a mess of your cum and his combined, spilling out, so much of it.

"Come darling, we seem to have more work to do." His tail pulled you up by your wrist while his arm wrapped around your hip, cradling you close to his body. You felt him kiss your forehead, happy that you were back where you belonged. By his side.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin smut #zhongli #zhongli x reader #zhongli imagines #zhongli smut #zhongli x female reader #genshin fanfic #genshin impact fanfics

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sprout-fics · 9 months

Note

OMEGAVERSE 141 MY BELOVED OH GOD IM GONNA THINK ABT UR WRITING ALL DAY

I do love this idea, so glad everyone enjoys this too!

Poly TF141 x Omega! Reader Headcanons

(Poly TF14 x F! Omega Reader)

(Part Four: The First Heat)

Tags: Omegaverse, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Hidden designations, Alpha! John Price, Alpha! Simon 'Ghost' Riley, Beta! Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick, Omega! John 'Soap' MacTavish, Omega F! Reader, Group dynamics, Poly TF141, Heat cycles, Comfort, SoapGaz, Slowburn

Masterlist

Your heat hits hard

It's not as bad as the one that nearly killed you, but to say it's uncomfortable would be an understatement

You don't notice it at first. You feel off, sure, but everyone has off days. You assume you just ate something bad at breakfast, shrug, and try to move on

As the day progresses you begin to wonder if you're coming down with something. You're parched, too warm, a little shaky. You think maybe it's a cold, that you'll just sleep it off

It isn't until you run into Price later that day that you realize

The scent of an alpha that's scent marked you in the past to help keep other away wafts across your senses, and before you can blink-

It sends you to your knees

Price is alarmed, and reaches for you, before he realizes exactly what's mixed in with your scent. You see his pupils dilatate, see his throat bob as he swallows, but he manages to haul you upwards and slowly helps you to your room

You're sluggish and hazy eyed by the time you get there, leaning your weight onto him fully as your legs refuse to cooperate. You try to apologize, and Price reminds you there's no need, that you can't help it, that he'll make sure you're safely put away

Yet he merely dumps you in your room and extracts himself before he can have a change of heart, quickly texts the others to inform them of the situation

You barely make it into bed, exhausted, feverish, muscles and joints aching. It doesn't take long for you to pass out

When you wake up, it's dark outside, your room is dim, and you feel damp, gross with sweat. Yet there's a little message on your phone from Gaz, letting you know there's a care package for you right outside the door

You manage to crawl over, open the door just enough to slide the box in. Your back presses to the door as you sit on the floor, eyeing the contents

Snacks, water, hygiene items, a little soap bar where someone has taken a blade to redundantly carve the word 'soap' into it, and a black dark hoodie with a scent so heavy that when you hold it to your face you moan.

You notice neither alphas has come to offer their assistance, and for that you're both glad and a little lonely about. The thought is shaken away as you stumble towards the shower, clean off, slide the hoodie on, eat and hydrate, and collapse back into bed

Maybe it won't be a bad heat, you think

You wake up and your world is on fire

There's only hot air as you gasp awake, clawing at your blanket, drenched in sweat, sheets soaked. Your skin itches, and you pull off the hoodie just to get a cool reprieve, only to drag it back on when the ache between your thighs clenches painfully

It feels like you're drowning, like your veins are molten, like you can barely breathe

And between your legs is a searing, pulsing emptiness that makes you clench around nothing, has you buck and gasp and whine in search of reprieve. Yet there's nothing to help. Not even the touch of your scent marked pillow, not even the smell of Ghost's hoodie or water or food

You manage to fumble for your phone, reach and text one single line

"He lp"

It's the middle of the night, you think they aren't awake, and after a few minutes you decide to fix this yourself, pulling yourself from bed towards a cold shower

You don't get far, legs collapsing under you the moment you stand. It's so much, and try as you may you can't seem to drag yourself very far, crying out in frustration and resorting to hauling a blanket from bed to curl on the floor

It's how Soap finds you, curled up and writhing in pain. You see his face float into view, ashen with concern, and still dressed in his sleeping clothes. You take one inhale and whine, arch your neck submissively because he smells faintly like Ghost, like Alpha.

It doesn't take long for him to help you into the bathroom, stick you in the shower with all your clothes on, and turn on the coldest water you can manage

"Yer burning up, hen'." He mutters, eyes cloudy with worry, a hand placed to your forehead. "Need tae cool you down."

He vanishes for a moment, and you whine until he comes back with a clean set of clothes

"Can you get dressed by yourself?" He asks, and you consider, shake your head

Soap is nothing less than a gentleman despite the fact he's already seen you naked before, manages to fumble you dry and get you into fresh clothes before helping you back into your room

It's there that you find Gaz, in the midst of changing your sweat damp sheets, bleary eyed but offering you a smile

You're considerably more relaxed by the time the two sergeants have you fed and hydrated, finally curled up between the both of them on your cot

They're soaked in Price and Ghost's scents, and it's enough to make the need between your thighs relax just enough for you to go limp between them

Your head is cloudy with lust, with need, swimming with low pulsing desire at bodies pressing into you on either side smelling like alpha

It makes you hiccup, tears forming in your eyes at wanting, needing, hoping for them as your blood thrums too warm in your veins, and your voice chokes on their names as if somehow you can summon them the quell the ache

You know, in some distant, logical part of your brain, that Price and Ghost are being more than decent about this, that even if you asked in this state they'd refuse you until your mind is clear

It doesn't stop you from being a whiny, needy, horny mess between the two men that smell like them. Your hips jerk automatically, seeking friction, even as a hand kneads the small of your back to try and soothe you into keeping still. it has the entirely opposite effect, makes your fangs pop out and a low, heady moan tumble past your lips

It aches

Yet then a large, firm hand grasps onto your nape, and you suck in an unsteady breath as someone who smells like an alpha scruffs you, making you automatically go limp and still

"Good omega." Soap purrs in your ear, and you shudder, whine, but remain pliant in his grip, wet eyelashes fluttering as a heavy fog of sleep descends upon you once more, safe in the arms of the two men you trust the most to keep you like this

#omegaverse cod #soap x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #john price x reader #poly tf141 #modern warfare 2 #x reader #reader insert #omegaverse au

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missmeinyourbones · 8 months

Note

"we were supposed to be just friends." and gojo please?

WE WERE SUPPOSED TO BE JUST FRIENDS (s. gojo)

a/n: slightly suggestive, will they won't they (they will), mentions of alcohol, satoru can't not be annoying for like three seconds

L’s MIDNIGHTS EVENT!

Everything feels hot. And it shouldn't.

Because it's the end of autumn and your dress flows down past your knees and the wine in your glass was supposed to warm you up but now Satoru is everywhere and everything feels hot.

He has you pinned against the wall, and how you got from the front door to the hallway, you don't remember, but his lips feel like fire as they dance along your neck and down to your exposed collarbone.

Even breathless and tingling, you know this is wrong.

You knew from the moment Satoru asked you out for a few drinks—as friends, he promised. The second he pulled your chair out for you at the bar, the moment you took too long to pick out a dress, you knew this was how the night would end.

Because while you and Satoru are supposed to be friends, that's never been quite the case.

With eyes closed and a heaving chest, you manage to pant out a pathetic, "This shouldn't be happening—"

"Y'know, I'm not judging you or anything," Satoru chuckles against your sticky skin, his lips moving faster than the speed of light as they crawl up your neck and below your ear, "but if that's your idea of dirty talk, we might need to teach you a thing or two."

When he gently paws at your earlobe, you disguise the wanton whimper as an aggravated sigh, attempting to paw at his broad shoulders and remind him.

"This is a bad idea, we both agreed that it's a bad idea."

"Impossible," he gently smirks against your jaw before sinking his canines into the bone with a smug exhale. "It's half my idea, and I've never had a bad idea in my entire life."

Wrong, you immediately note.

You can think of a minimum of seventeen bad ideas Satoru has had, and that's just off of the top of your head. And of those seventeen, at least ten of them ended up like this—with the two of you gnawing at one another like animals.

Still embarrassingly breathless, you try to regain the upper hand, "So you're just talking to hear yourself speak?"

"Well, I can think of a few sweeter things to say," he smoothly mumbles against your jaw, relishing in the way his teeth gently scrape the skin lovingly.

His (huge) palms find your thighs with ease, and just as he's about to lift you in his arms and inevitably fuck you raw against your shitty apartment wall, a miracle happens.

With every ounce of strength you have, you're able to push him far enough away from you to actually look at him. Both of you panting and warm to the touch, you're able to look into his eyes with a telling frown.

"Satoru, we are supposed to be just friends."

And though your tone is stern, his reply is light and airy as he leans back in, insistent.

"We are friends."

When his tongue prods at your swollen lower lip once more, you pull him back by his hair. Not missing how he whines at the tugging, you raise your eyebrows, unamused.

"You kiss all your friends like this?"

"Only the ones as pretty as you," he coos immediately, leaning back into your mouth. But your grip on his hair prevents him from reaching what he wants, and when he notices the stern look in your eye, he softens.

"No," comes softly from his chest as he pulls away to properly look back at you. "No, I don't."

You exhale deeply, catching your breath and attempting to firmly plant your feet on the floor. Satoru's listening to you, or at least he's doing a good job at pretending to, and your gaze can’t help but fall to his swollen and spit-shined lips.

"We agreed to take things slow, to be friends for a while and not rush into things like we—"

Conveniently, his eyes do the same and flicker down to your own distracting pout.

The words meekly crawl out from his throat when he practically whimpers, "But you're wearing that lipstick you know I like."

"I shouldn't know you like it," you coldly remind him, "because we were supposed to be friends."

Satoru moves his hands from your thighs to your hips which, believe it or not, is a conservative improvement for him. Though his hands made a safe choice, his eyes falter back down to your neck when he presses a feathery kiss to your pulse point.

"Baby," he coos and you despise that you feel yourself clench around nothing. From a sixth sense or eye, Satoru somehow knows, because he smirks against your skin and brings his attention right before your lips.

"From the moment we met, we both knew we were never gonna be just friends."

He doesn't give you the privilege of a kiss, but lingers just above your lips as if his infinity is still on. You know enough to know it's off, it always is around you, but with the way he's so close and denying you his actual touch, you don’t quite know the difference.

When you don't answer, he prompts you tenderly. "Right?"

Stubbornly, you turn your head to look away from his stupid face, but all that does is further expose your neck to him.

Practically singing with mockery, Satoru's tongue dances along your jaw when he grins.

"Your silence is more telling than you think."

You gently shove him off of you, rolling your eyes in frustration at his cocky (yet correct) statement. He jokingly stumbles back at your shove, hand over his heart as he huffs out a whine.

"I can't stand you," you grumble.

With a shit-eating grin, Satoru sighs and lays back on your sofa, spreading his legs comfortably wide and patting his thick and barren thigh.

"Then come sit."

#L's MIDNIGHTS EVENT!#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo fic #gojo satoru fic #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut

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starstruckmiraclekitty · 1 year

Note

Ur smut is getting soooo good. Could you do a scenario for the 141 and Konig where the fem reader rides them? Like pure fucking filth.

Only if you're OK with it!

Ahhh🙈 this is literal trash, but I hope you enjoy!! There's literally no plot to this, lol.

141 + König With Fem!Reader Riding Them

Warnings: literal smut, p in v sex, oral (m receiving) cream pie, swearing

Simon Ghost Riley-

"Bloody fucking hell." Simon groaned, his head thrown back into the pillows behind him. You were on top of him, riding him like your life depended on it.

His grip on your waist was bruising, but you were too far gone to care. He was watching you with intent, his eyes never leaving yours.

Knowing how much Simon loved to watch his cock being swallowed whole by your pussy, you leaned back, resting your hands on his thighs to stabilize yourself, and continued to move your hips up and down.

Simon nearly came right then. The change in position allowed him to hit at an angle that had you both seeing stars. You whined loudly, mouth open gasping for air, as your head was thrown back.

The sight was unlike anything Simon had ever seen. Your body was glistening with sweat, moving up and down in a set rhythm. He couldn't stop staring down at how well your pussy was taking him, and he couldn't help himself when his index finger moved on its own to start rubbing circles on your clit.

"O-Oh my God, Simon!" You were so close to your orgasm, and so was he. He could feel you clenching down on his cock. Your finger nails raked into his thighs, causing Simon to hiss.

Your movements started to get sloppy as you desperately chased your high. Simon sat up and enclosed his hand around the base of your throat, lightly putting pressure there, just enough to have you gasping.

You slowed your movements, moving in circles before your orgasm washed through you, causing your cunt to squeeze Simon's cock. He convulsed as his own orgasm hit him, his grasp tightening around your throat as his cock pulsed inside you.

You pulled away after a moment, both of you needing to catch your breath. As you started to move off him, Simon's breath hitched in his throat at the sight of cum dripping from you.

This triggered something feral in him, and he grabbed your waist throwing you underneath him. "Can't let any of this go to waste, yeah? Be a good girl and let me fuck it back in you."

Johnny Soap MacTavish-

"S-slown down lass." Johnny practically begged. You were bouncing up and down on his cock at a speed he couldn't catch up with.

He was trying so hard not to cum too quickly, as he wanted to enjoy this moment for as long as possible. It wasn't often you were on top in bed, but my God he was going to relish in it. Especially when you were doing so well.

You grabbed one of Johnny's hands that was gripping your waist, and brought it up to your mouth. You gave him a sultry look, before taking his index finger in your mouth, sucking lightly.

"Steamin Jesus." Johnny's eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he felt his resolve slipping away quickly. He was on the verge of an orgasm, and you knew it.

You gave his finger a bite, before running your tongue along the pad of it, your eyes never leaving his. You started to move your hips in a circular motion, and Johnny's self control snapped.

He ripped his finger from your mouth, and grabbed your waist, grounding himself to pound up into you, a load grown emitting from his lips as he came inside you, painting your walls white with his cum.

You gave a soft moan, and continued to move up and down, milking his cock for everything you could, causing a whine to come from your boyfriend.

"Fucking beautiful you are. Gonna have to have you on top from now on." He breathed out, throwing his head back into the pillows. He flipped the two of you over, so that he was hovering on top of you.

"My turn now though, princess." He smirked at you before moving his head between your legs, staying there nearly the entire night.

John Price-

"Atta girl, use my cock, that's it." John cooed as you rode him in his office chair.

Your legs were tucked around his thighs, as he was sitting up right in the chair, and the angle allowed his cock to hit at deeper angles than normal.

"Feels s-so good, daddy." You cried out, your fingers making their way to John's hair and tugging the strands harshly.

John groaned and threw his face in between your tits, exhaling deeply. "Come on then, cum on my cock baby girl."

He grabbed one of your nipples in between his teeth and bit down before soothing his tongue over the sting. Your grip on his hair grew harsher, and the little mewl you let out, nearly ruined him.

He felt himself nearing the edge and wanted you right there with him. "Doing so well baby, keep using daddy's cock, go on."

You continued to bounce up and down, your tits bouncing in John's face. Your legs started to shake, thighs squeezing against his as you felt your orgasm approaching rapidly.

John felt your walls clench around him, and that was all that was needed to send him over the edge. He groaned into your flesh and bit down on your tit, hard.

You screamed out his name as your own orgasm hit you, the two of you cumming together.

"You did so good, sweetheart." He praised, giving light kisses to your tits. Your chest was beyond bruised from his marks, but neither of you could care. "Why don't you bend over on the desk. Gotta make sure I return the favor."

Kyle Gaz Garrick-

"Shit, you feel so good, love." Gaz cried. The two of you were currently in his gaming chair, as you were unable to wait for him to finish his game to fuck you, you took matters into your own hands.

You were seated on him with your back facing his chest, the game he was playing was long forgotten by now.

He moved his hands to your front and grabbed at your tits, kneading them softly. You moaned, throwing your head back to Gaz's shoulder. "So good, baby."

The sounds in the room were obscene. Between the chair squeaking from your movements, the soft moans from you and Gaz and the wet sounds of your pussy, the room was anything but quiet. But you fucking loved it.

You pulled yourself forward and rested your arms on Gaz's desk, and quickened your pace at the new angle.

Gaz was sputtering, unable to form a coherent sentence. "Fff-uckkk."

He raked his nails along your back, breaking the skin in some areas, causing you to squeal. "Kyle!"

You felt the coil in your belly tighten, and snap, as your orgasm tore through you.

Kyle's own orgasm wasn't far behind as he dug his nails into the flesh of your waist and gasped as he spilled himself inside you.

After taking a moment to come down from your high, you turned to look at Kyle with a smile before standing up.

"You can go back to your game now, babe." You pressed a teasing kiss to his nose as you walked away.

"Fuck the game." He turned off the console and made his way to you, moving to toss you over his shoulder.

Needless to say, neither one of you got very much sleep that night.

König-

"Maus, Scheiße." König let out a small cry as you fucked yourself stupid on his cock.

He barely had time to catch his breath, as the rhythm you set was brutal. He was laying at the edge of your bed, legs resting on the floor, as your full weight was on him.

He was in awe when you'd asked to be on top tonight, and he certainly wasn't expecting it to be this good. He was so pussy drunk he couldn't even think straight.

He sat up to look at you, and saw you rubbing your clit, your eyes closed and bottom lip tucked in between your teeth.

König groaned at the sight, moving to palm at your bouncing breasts. "I'm gonna cum, Schatz."

You nodded your head weakly, too fucked out to give a proper response. You'd been so horny for days waiting for him to be home that you'd jumped on him the minute he came home. It didn't take long for both of you to find your release within one another.

With one final move of your hips the two of you were gone. Your pussy clenched around his cock, milking out his own orgasm, as the two of you moaned loudly.

König was shaking as his orgasm left him, and captured your lips in a bruising kiss.

You gave a devilish glance to your husband before moving to get on your knees in front of him. "What are you doing, Maus?" He breathed.

"I've got to clean up my mess, don't I?" You asked as you sank your mouth down on his cock.

It didn't take long before he was cumming again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Yeah I'm still shit at smut, but I hope you guys enjoyed anyway😅🤣

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lovifie · 29 days

Text

Lift Me Off My Feet

Chapter 12: Finale

Masterlist

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12

“You are not listening!” You shout, frustrated with the man.

In the couple of weeks that you have known and lived with them, you never expected that you would end up arguing with them. Even less with Price.

“No, Birdie. You are the one that needs to listen!” The man argued back.

“You got me fired, John! What else do you want me to hear?” You ask, running your hands through your hair.

It finally set in, the reality that the idyllic life of living with the four of them without a worry was just an illusion. You were here because you were hiding, and they were here because they were hiding you.

“I didn't get you fired, Birdie. Your boss did.” Price says, crossing his arms.

“Don't get sassy with me! He told you that they needed to know if I could get back to work any soon or they would be forced to fire me and you told them to do so!” You shout again, feeling like Price is lying to your face. “Why would you do that?!”

“Because you hate that job!” He shouts back. “And you don't need to work!”

“Yes, I do, Price! Yes, I do!” You say, a dry laugh leaving your throat. “Like everyone! I can't just live sponging off of you guys!”

“That's not what's happening and you know it, birdie!” He exclaims. “Don't manipulate the situation into making it look like a bloody transaction!”

“I'm manipulating the situation?!” You ask, pointing to yourself.

“Yes! You are making it look like we are paying you to stay with us, birdie!” He explains, moving his hands to his hips.

“Oh, for god's sake, Price!” You exclaim, rubbing your face. “Why don't you exaggerate it a bit more?! I don't even know why I'm arguing with you about my job!”

“Neither do I?! Because I think it is pretty much settled!” He says, walking away towards the kitchen.

“IT IS NOT SETTLE!” You scream, shocked by his response. “The reason why I don't know why we are arguing is because I don't know who gave you the right to choose over me!”

That makes him turn around, looking at you like you grow a second head. “Well, excuse me. For believing I have a say in your life, I just assumed I could since we bloody love each other and all that!”

“Don't pull that shit on me, Price! This has nothing to do with love!” You say, crossing your arms. “I don't have a say on your work! So why should you have it on me!”

“It's not the bloody same!” He says, rubbing his face.

“It's not for you because it doesn't benefit you!” You scream, looking back when you hear the door open as Gaz, Soap and Ghost enter the house. The three of them having left the house not too long ago to buy breakfast.

“What's going on? We could hear the shouts from outside.” Gaz asks, entering first and looking between Price and you, seeing the wide cliff between the two of you.

“Nothing!” Price barks, crossing his arms again.

You ignore the looks on everyone's face, instead walking to the door.

“Where are you going now?!” Price asks, moving to be able to see you.

“Out! So I can fucking breathe without feeling I'm choking!” You say, opening the door after the boys closed it.

“Don't go far!” Price says, still caring under all his bad mood

“I KNOW I CAN'T GO FAR!” You say, slamming the door on your way out.

You hate screaming, hate shouting, hate raising your voice and even more if it is at Price or any of the men inside. It's not their fault and screaming at each other is not the way to fix it. But you can't help it, tired of being pushed around at everyone's mercy without asking what's your choice.

Sitting down on the step right outside the house, not wanting or needing to go any further, you hide your face behind your hands, letting your palms get wet with your tears.

“Hey, you alright?” A man's voice says, making you look up, to come face to face with an unfamiliar face.

You don't have time to answer, because something hits the back of your head and everything blends to black.

Price updates the boys once you are out, he tells them your ex-boss called, told him you needed to get back to work the next day or he would fire you, he tells them how he told him to go ahead since you couldn't go back to work jet, he tells them about how he wasn't able to tell you about the empty position at base that you could filled to work with them because you started screaming, he tells them about how he lost his cool and just screamed back instead of explaining.

He tells them everything, feeling like the worst person in the world for making you leave the house with tears on your face. It's Gaz the first one to stand up. “I'll check on her.” He mumbles, as he walks outside to an empty staircase. He walks down, checking both sides of the street only to find it just as empty.

An anxious feeling starts to brew on his stomach, entering back to the house with a worried expression on his face. “She's gone.” He says almost casually, as if not voicing one of the biggest fears the men around him have had for the last month.

“What do you mean she's gone?” Soap asks. “She must be around the block, she'll be back in a bit, mate.”

No one believes him, not even himself. You wouldn't have walked out of his sight like that, not without dragging them with you, not without a phone, not without telling them.

There is a beat of silence, each debating whether it is plausible that you simply left, all of them feeling that the most possible chance is that something happened to you.

“I'll check the car camera, it is parked right in front of the door.” Ghost says, taking his phone out to check it.

They all check the screen, seeing the door open and close. They see you sit down, body shaking as you cry, Price feeling his heart shrunk at the sight knowing it was his doing.

They then see the two men walking in front of you, how one of them takes advantage that you have your face covered to stand behind you, how the other calls your attention to look at your face, and how once he knows it's you he nods to the other man, who knocks you out hitting you with a bat at the back of your head.

The wave of all the different emotions hitting them at once keeps them in place for a second, paralyzed on their chair. Soap jumps first, talking about checking the cameras on the street, checking the cars, their licence place, anything.

But it doesn't reach Price's ears, the only thing he can hear is the voices in his head telling him that he has failed twice now. The first one he wasn't able to keep you close enough when you left in the middle of the night, and now he was the one that pushed you away.

You were just on the other side of the door a moment ago and now… now he didn't know where you were. All because he didn't explain himself and let his emotions take control of him.

“Price!” It's Ghost's voice that wakes him up, standing beside the sergeants. “Move.”

That's all he says, and that's all Price needs.

They'll get you back, whatever it takes.

Two weeks.

That is what it takes them to finally find a trail.

That is what it takes Price to breathe again.

That's what it takes Simon to let be seen outside the office.

That's what it takes Soap to let himself be embraced by any of the others.

That's what it takes Gaz to stop baring his teeth to everyone.

They have a trail.

And god knows that's all they need.

What you need, is a doctor. A shower. A glass of water. A nap. Anything that is not forced or thrown at you.

Two weeks of torture.

Two weeks of just getting hurt, insulted, humiliated, all of it just for the purpose of causing you pain.

The henchmen of the man you used to say good morning to were the ones that have stolen you away.

The ones that have thrown you into an empty dark room.

The ones that have “interrogated” you about who you worked for.

The ones that have “interrogated” you about how much they paid you.

You didn't say a word, which usually resulted in a punch to the face or a kick to the ribs.

You want to believe that they will find you.

That they will take you back home.

That Price will forgive you for shouting at him.

Hell, if you die and the last thing you did was shout at him.

You'll live.

They'll find you.

Two weeks.

Of fighting with yourself.

The side that says you'll live.

And the side that tells you to give up already.

The second one usually wins.

Like today, when the man that enters the room every day walks up to you, limping and with a knife in his hand.

He yanks your hair, pulling you up on your feet and pressing the knife on your throat. “Make a sound and it'll be the last thing you do.”

He moves you into a chokehold, pushing you in front of him as he walks down the hall. There is shouting and the sound of guns inside the building.

The moment he sees the car where they push you in, the one they saw on the cameras; Price almost needs to pull Simon back from running inside the building.

This is it.

This is the headquarters they couldn't find for so long.

The headquarters where all the important information and the guns they have looked for so long are at.

The headquarters where everything that matters is.

The headquarters where they kept you at.

Price sends Ghost to the building on the other side of the road, not trusting the man in face to face with what they can find inside.

And he obliges, hating the rank differences.

They move in, clearing room after room.

No sign of you.

The move to the second floor.

You are not there.

More and more people that hit the ground when they found them.

You are still missing.

Until you see it.

The unmistakable blue cap on Gaz's head.

And you shout.

You shout louder than you shout at Price.

You shout louder than when Soap scared you hiding behind the door.

You shout louder than when you called for Ghost when you thought he fell on the shower but it was just the shampoo bottle.

You have never shouted at Gaz.

Until now.

And the moment you do you feel the blade dig into your skin, moving your hand between the knife and your neck.

The three of them turn to you, immediately updating Ghost and telling him to move.

The window behind you is almost like a target for a perfect shot.

But Ghost can't shoot.

Not when he can see your head.

Not when there is a possibility that he may hit you.

But he can when you move.

When you grab the blade, breaking the skin of your fingers, and you pull back just enough to squish yourself down.

You are still against his chest, the man still holding you. But Ghost can now see your head, lower than before. And the arms around you quickly go limp, falling forward taking you with him.

A ringing in your ear keeps you from Price's voice calling your name. Everything is dizzy for a moment, there is a warm sensation on your elbow and when you look back a red pool of blood is bleeding onto your clothes.

You liked that t-shirt.

You'll need to try with peroxide, see if you can take the stain out.

Your brain ignores the corpse lying next to you, but for some reason you can't stop looking at the blood on your elbow.

It isn't until Price cups your face, your grimey, bloody and sunken face. And you look up to him, his blue eyes.

And you let yourself cry.

After two weeks.

You cry.

So hard you can't see nor hear anything.

You cling onto Price, hiding your face on his neck, digging your nails on his back needing to feel him under your skin.

Apologies fly from one to the other.

For shouting, for pushing away, for failing to protect, for not shouting, for being taken away.

You feel two more pairs of arms around you, feeling the fourth person only when you start to leave the building.

Not much longer an ambulance arrives, finally taking you to safety.

The four men in the car right behind.

Recovery is just as slow.

No permanent physical damage.

But not all the wounds are on the skin.

Those heal quite fast.

And soon you are back on your feet.

On your scared, wobbly feet.

The boys are back around, always one of them close.

“I'm never leaving you out of my sight again.” Price says, cupping your face as he kisses your forehead. “I don't care if I sound like a madman.”

They make it easy to get back.

Price finally tells you about the job at base, which you gladly apply for.

Surprisingly you got it, and started working soon.

It was easy.

You got a better flat, easy to pay when four more people chime in for the bills.

You got a better job, with better pay and a better boss.

You got, not only one, but four lovers.

And you have all the time of your life to heal everything that's left.

You still wonder how you managed to get into your garage that night.

But now you're glad you did.

And with this, ladies and gentlemen.

Lift Me Off My Feet comes to an end ❤️.

Thanks for joining along, for all the support that you have given me the last couple of months, for the patience between chapters, special thanks to @darkangel4121 for listening to me complain so much and to everyone who has joined and will join the blog.

I love you, my lovelies 💗

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agustdiv1ne · 10 months

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Hard thought - being so desperate for each other that you and Minho dry hump each other til you both cum in your pants

holy shit, anon (MDNI or you will be blocked, nsfw under the cut!)

one of minho's hands lays heavy against your hip as he holds himself above you, a forearm pressed into the couch cushion next to your head. lips meld against each other, want and need and lust mixing and creating a concoction that renders you both dizzy and craving more, more, more.

pressed flush against your clothed center, his boxer-clad cock grows harder and harder as hands tug at shirts and squeeze at bare skin. his fingers find your hips, sliding around to the globes of your ass and squeezing while he grinds you against him. you emit a breathy moan against his lips, a sigh of his name. the friction is addicting, the thin fabric of your panties rubbing against your clit. the fabric clings to your folds as you grow even wetter.

both of your movements grow increasingly desperate as the seconds tick by. he mouths and nips at your neck, his tongue not far behind to sooth the marred skin, groaning as you curl your fingers into his hair, tugging at the dark strands. his head removes itself from your neck so he is able to lock your gaze to his — and fuck, you're a sight to behold. furrowed brows, eyes snapped shut, swollen lips coated in spit, bitten oh so hard to muffle your cries. your oversized shirt is slipping from your shoulder, revealing the strap of your bra and the bare skin of your shoudler.

one hand remains on your ass, continuing to guide you against him, while the other reaches up to hold your chin. your eyes flutter open, only to avoid his gaze. with a deep, shuddering breath, he squeezes your chin.

"eyes on me," he orders, his voice deep and dark. visibly shivering above him, you obey. his umber eyes bear into yours, hypnotizing — and while you want to bury your head back into his chest and hide, you simply can't. he smirks at your slack-jawed expression. "such a good girl. shit, feels good?"

"y-yeah," you squeak out, panting now. you've drifted somewhere far away, lost in the pleasure he's so generously giving you. your vision goes fuzzy around the edges as his hand slides down to wrap around your throat, moaning at the sensation.

"yeah?" he asks, the lilt in his voice condescending. "you like my cock grinding into your pretty pussy, my hand around your throat? bet you're so wet already, hm? are you?"

with a rapid nod of your head and a whine, your eyes shut again, hips grinding down even faster. when they blink back open, you find his cocky demeanor has lessened, his head thrown back as he groans and curses under his breath.

"god. fuck, baby," he breathes, starting to thrust up into you to meet you halfway. you squeal at the sensation. "y'feel so good. gonna make me cum soon."

you scramble forward to kiss him, muffling your moans and his groans. your fingertips press into his shoulders as you feel your peak approaching. the rustle of clothes mix with the obscene sounds.

and then you're shoved straight over the edge.

you cry his name as your thighs quake, trying to close but being halted by his own. your lips leave his so your head can dive into his shirt, riding out the pleasure. minho ruts into you once, twice before his torso shudders beneath you. he hisses out a quiet "fuck" as his release stains his boxers.

slowly, the two of you come down, your face still buried into his chest. he can feel the heat radiating off of your cheeks when he cups them to bring you in for a gentle, slow kiss. the desperation that previously filled the air has all but dissipated, replaced by soft adoration — and slight embarrassment.

"that...was so fucking hot," he mumbles once he pulls away, a small smile curling at the corners of his mouth. "can't believe you made me cum in my pants."

you giggle despite your newfound fatigue. "i guess i just have that effect."

he pinches your waist. "brat."

that only make you laugh harder. shifting off of him, you stand on trembling legs. "shower?"

he laces his fingers with yours with a sly grin.

"i thought you'd never ask."

#sorry that this took a billion years to be written #stray kids smut #skz smut #minho smut #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #minho x reader #lee know smut #lee know x reader #agust.nsfw #💌 — lino

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