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tennessoui · 2 years

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Miss Kit, if you’re still taking prompts. How about “You love me, right?” for AU where Mafia boss Anakin corrupts Obi-Wan.

hi hi hi!!! so this was a bit weird to write because the au in question is really like 1-2 posts (i know there's an original but i can only find the follow up) which means it was a lot of building!!! which was cool but also that means this is actually 2.5k rip

anyway this is an au where basically young detective obi-wan is sent undercover to infiltrate mob boss anakin's criminal organization and he's successful but he falls in love with anakin in the classic 'got too deep and can't get out' thing. at least anakin loves him and loves corrupting him. (this is dark--duh--and age reversal, so obi-wan is 23 and anakin is 39.)

sorta a reverse pbatmb but not because i think there are really fascinating differences between the stories but it is a dark mob boss story with flipped mob bosses, so it's a LITTLE reverse pbatmb lol

anyway

(2.4k)

It isn’t surprising that Anakin is waiting for him, not really. He’d probably had him tailed to the police station and back again. He might even have told his man to kill Obi-Wan should he not exit the building within fifteen minutes.

After all, letting Obi-Wan run away once was about proving a point. Twice just looks bad.

So he’s not surprised that upon stepping into the lobby of Anakin’s restaurant, his elbow is caught by one of the men. “Vader wants ya,” Ahsoka tells him. She sounds grim.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Obi-Wan replies. Maybe it’s because he feels—free. Maybe it’s because he feels confused and like he’s swallowed a ball of lead that transformed itself into a hornet’s nest upon contact with his stomach. He shrugs Ahsoka’s hand off. “I know where to go.”

Ahsoka doesn’t say anything, but she does sneer. She didn’t like him much before she found out he was a rat. She especially didn’t like him after he ran that first time, no matter that at the time he’d thought he was running for his life. She probably didn’t think his life was worth the trouble he’d caused.

They’re both lucky Vader thinks differently.

“Watch your step,” she tells him like it’s a threat, at the base of the grand staircase that leads to the second floor. Ostensibly, there’s more dining up there for anyone in want of a table at a hot, fancy, popular restaurant with countless awards. Realistically, Obi-Wan knows that the second floor of the restaurant is where Anakin conducts his business.

His other business.

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan replies, pausing on the third step to look down. It’s the events of the past twenty-four hours that make his tongue loosen in a way that only Anakin has ever rewarded him for. “He says you’re jealous.”

Ahsoka’s eyes flash in the low light as she takes a step closer. She’d been about to retake her spot at the front, the guard dog of Vader’s mob. “What.”

Obi-Wan steps down until he’s only one step higher than her. It makes them almost the same height. “He says you’re jealous,” he repeats. “Ani does.”

Obi-Wan never calls Anakin Ani, not unless he’s been told to by the man in scenarios where it helps both of them with their covers: Anakin as someone to underestimate. Obi-Wan as someone to write off. It works now too for a vastly different reason. The only one allowed to call Anakin by his first name is Obi-Wan himself. Not even Ahsoka, his apprentice, can.

“I’m not,” Ahsoka snaps. She grips the bannister so hard that her knuckles turn white.

“Really?” Obi-Wan asks. “Because, well. I was an undercover cop, he caught me, he still kept me, and then I slashed his face, I ran away, and when I came back he still welcomed me with open arms. But you—he broke your finger for bungling the shipment I told Windu about. I’d be jealous too, in your place.”

Ahsoka tries to take a second step up, be on level with Obi-Wan, but he stops her with a hand raised and placed on her neck. “Now, now,” he says. “Vader wants to see me.”

Anakin’s apprentice snarls but lets him go. She always has to let him go because Anakin loves him. Anakin wants him.

“One day, someone’s going to show you your place, Ben,” Ahsoka takes a step back, a strategic retreat.

“I know my place, ma’am,” Obi-Wan says in Ben’s accent, soft and unassuming, framed and workshopped off of Vader’s own speech patterns because the linguist the police hired had thought it would breed familiarity. “Similar to yours, it’s beneath Anakin. Mine just comes with more perks.”

He loves me for one, he doesn’t say. He doesn’t particularly want to shove a crowbar into Anakin’s relationship with his apprentice. Not because he doesn’t think Anakin would forgive him for it, but because it sounds more complicated than it’s worth. Ahsoka will adjust. Anakin will make sure of it.

He doesn’t love you, an unwelcome voice murmurs in the back of his head. The memory is fresh. Mace Windu, senior detective, had said that not even an hour ago, clutching Obi-Wan’s resignation letter tightly in both hands. Parting words that had landed like a grenade in his mind, even as he tried to shake it off.

Has anyone ever? He’d shot back, eyes drawn without his express permission to stare heavily at the sheriff’s closed door. Qui-Gon had refused to see him. His own father—he makes one choice he doesn’t approve of, slips and stumbles in a situation his father sent him into, and suddenly Qui-Gon Jinn never adopted a boy.

He’d left the station soon after, but not before Detective Windu hda fired a parting shot: I’d hate to see you spend the rest of your life catering to your daddy issues.

Obi-Wan hadn’t even really thought about the words, what they meant, not until he’s walking through the open doors of the second floor to see Anakin lounging in a firm chair at the head of a table. The table is laid heavy with food: fruit, cold meats, cheeses, pasta, salads, oysters.

All of it untouched. Some of it Obi-Wan had admitted to never trying, some of it he’d told him were his favorittes.

Anakin smiles when he sees him, dropping the knife he’d been spinning around in his fingers to hold out a hand as he shifts his body, readjusts to rest his chin on his fist. “Welcome home, baby. Happy retirement.”

Obi-Wan gets halfway from the entrance of the room to Anakin before he stops. He doesn’t mean to. He’d been ready and willing and eager to climb into the older man’s lap, kiss him dirty, lick down the pink scar over his eye that Obi-Wan had given him. But—he can’t shake Mace Windu’s words. Men like Skywalker can’t love. You’ve found yourself in the eye of a hurricane, but storms move quick.

It had been his mentor’s last piece of advice for him, before his feelings and disappointment had turned his words into insults and petty blows.

Men like Skywalker can’t love.

“Baby?” Anakin sits up straight, head cocked slightly as he studies him. “Did they give you trouble? Quitting a job isn’t illegal. You gave them two weeks and everything. Well, I did. But you were there. You were quite…enthusiastic.”

Obi-Wan swallows and can feel a blush burn down his face and across his cheeks. He remembers the terms of which Anakin had called into the police department, asked to speak to Obi-Wan’s supervisor, and smugly told them that as Obi-Wan’s new employer, he was phoning to let them know that Obi-Wan was giving a two-weeks notice, but that they had talked about it, and Anakin would allow him to finish up on any current assignment he was working on.

The assignment Obi-Wan had been working on was, of course, infiltrating Anakin’s criminal organization while undercover as a lackey from out of town named Ben.

Obi-Wan had, at the time of the call, been on his knees beneath Anakin’s desk.

“Come here, Benny,” Anakin purrs. Obi-Wan has never liked that nickname, not since the very first time the mobster had called him it, and he thinks he probably knows.

He’d studied Anakin, right, before he’d gone under. He knows that Anakin still sometimes calls him Ben on purpose because Obi-Wan can never stop the flash of guilt he feels at having started a relationship with Anakin before the older man knew who he really was. He knows Anakin uses it against him. He knows Aanakin probably can’t even help it.

It still stings. Many things do, in their relationship. But Anakin kisses the hurts better every time. He’s the only person who has ever said he loved Obi-Wan and then—then actually tried to make good on the promise.

Obi-Wan’s mouth is dry, but he has to ask. “You—you love me, right?”

Anakin blinks at him and lounges back in his seat to look at him consideringly. His hand drops down onto his thigh. Like this, the man looks more Vader than Anakin, and it makes Obi-Wan shiver. No one in the precinct actually, really thought Anakin Skywalker had dual personalities, and perhaps Obi-Wan should know better than everyone else. But he doesn’t.

Sometimes Anakin looks at him and all he can see is Vader in his eyes, the way his hands are rougher on Obi-Wan’s form, the short staccato sentences and the resting frown that even Obi-Wan cannot kiss away. Vader is…territorial. There has never been a single meeting that Obi-Wan has attended where Anakin looks like Vader that he has not attended in the man’s lap. It’s not as if Anakin is lightyears better or anything, still as possessive, jealous, but sweeter too.

Obi-Wan doesn’t know what these differences mean. He isn’t sure Anakin would elaborate if asked.

And a part of Obi-Wan—a part of Obi-Wan simply does not care. Not if both—one—either—whatever—not if Anakin, whoever Anakin is at any given moment, wants him. Loves him.

“Do I love you?” Anakin repeats. It’s an embarrassing question, all things considered. It reeks of every insecurity Obi-Wan has ever harbored in his soul. And even though most of them have been teased out by the man in front of him, dissected and examined, the words still bruise to hear spoken so lowly in the air. “Come here, Obi-Wan.”

This time, Obi-Wan goes, closing the distance between them quickly. Before he can scramble into his lover’s arms, the man stands up so that their fronts brush against each other.

It feels far too close and not close enough, and Anakin must agree because his arm brushes against the backs of his thighs and pushes up in the universal sign to jump. Obi-Wan does, wrapping his arms around his neck for further balance.

Anakin catches him with ease. Obi-Wan’s only twenty-three, not yet grown into his shoulders, so he’s fairly light to carry, but it helps that Anakin is almost forty, all broad shoulders and height and muscle put on from a life of fighting.

“Why else would I have taken such an interest in you, sweet baby Ben?” Anakin croons as he lays him down on a couch meant for reclining with after-dinner drinks. Mostly the couch is where Anakin fucks him if he doesn’t want to wait to get back to his apartments. “Take you in, off the streets, a stripper who punched my best friend in the face because he was flirting with a girl?”

“She was half his age,” Obi-Wan mutters, turning his face up and away. He’s never going to apologize for it, even if it hadn’t been how he was supposed to make contact with Anakin’s mob in the first place.

Anakin hums and catches his jaw. “Hm. Point is, baby, why else would I have let you get so close to me, wearing all my pretty things, ignoring all the alarms in my head saying you knew me too well, too fast, if I didn’t love you?” His hand tightens and Obi-Wan gasps out.

He’d read the files on Anakin. He’d read every Business Insider article. He’d read everything he could get his hands on. Of course he’d known so many things about the man. That had been his only job. Get close to Anakin Skywalker.

Task succeeded.

Anakin Skywalker’s lips trail from his cheekbone down and then up again, to the edge of his temple. Obi-Wan knows what he’s going to say before he says it. “Why else would I let you into my bed, if I didn’t love you? Why would you be the only person allowed to see the twins whenever you want if I didn’t love you? Why else would I be so terribly upset to find you in this very room, in this very position with one of my men, if I didn’t love you?”

Obi-Wan tries to move, to thrash and shiver and run his hands over Anakin in return but somewhere between laying him down and now, the man has caught his wrists in one of his big hands while the other runs up and down Obi-Wan’s torso.

The man—Maul—had followed Obi-Wan one night to a meeting with Detective Secura. He’d overheard everything, had known Ben to be a rat, but he hadn’t confronted him about it for two days. He’d waited until he could get him alone, in this room. Obi-Wan had been sitting at the table, sipping water, knowing he couldn’t eat until Anakin returned from his drop-off.

Maul had threatened him. Threatened to tell the mob, threatened to tell Anakin. Obi-Wan had been confronted with the thought of losing Anakin or losing his cover and he hadn’t reacted well. He’d known exactly how long it would take Anakin to get back, so he’d stalled until the last minute before offering himself to Maul in exchange for his silence.

He’d seen the looks. He’d known he wouldn’t be turned down.

He’d also known Anakin would kill Maul if he found him on top of him. Which he had. To both.

“Why would I forgive you after, if I didn’t love you, sweet thing?” Anakin murmurs, mouth still pressed to his temple. “Why would I forgive you for trying to fuck another man into silence, for lying to me about your name, for hurting me and leaving me, if I didn’t love you?”

Obi-Wan whimpers. Anakin’s hand has migrated to his throat and he’s putting so much pressure on it. He’s hurting him. He’ll probably never hurt him as much as Obi-Wan hurt him. Maul had managed to accuse Obi-Wan as being a rat before he’d died. Anakin, fearsome and covered in blood, had turned to him with one golden eyebrow raised.

Obi-Wan had tried to flee. For some reason, that had been the moment Anakin had become enraged. He’d tackled Obi-Wan to the floor. They’d fought, Obi-Wan has a scar on his palm still, long and deep. He’d grabbed the knife Anakin had slit Maul’s throat with with his open palm flipped it to his other hand, and cut out at Anakin’s face. The move had gotten him off him, just long enough for him to run.

“If I didn’t love you, baby, why would I have gone to find you? Why would I have made it so very clear that your place was by my side? Why would I have given you the choice to come back or stay away forever? Do you think I often give rats those sorts of choices?”

Obi-Wan shakes his head. It hadn’t taken him long. Anakin, that is. He’d found him hiding in his apartment—Obi-Wan’s, not Ben’s. Obi-Wan had come home from a shift to see Anakin lounging on his sofa, reading through one of his favorite books, skin around his right eye carefully bandaged.

It hadn’t taken Obi-Wan long either, to decide. Anakin hadn’t even gotten out of the building before Obi-Wan had made his choice. He hadn’t—he hadn’t wanted to leave Anakin. The man had said he loved him. He hadn’t—he hadn’t wanted to be without his love again, he’d do whatever necessary.

“I’m not a rat,” Obi-Wan gasps, and the hand around his neck loosens as Anakin takes his hand away to look down at him in interest.

“Oh?” he asks. “What are you then?”

“Your baby,” he breathes, eyes falling to half-lids as he adjusts their bodies so that they’re as close together as possible.

“Mm,” Anakin agrees, leaning down to bite gently at the skin of Obi-Wan’s bottom lip before letting go. “Guess I’m just wondering then. I think the real question should be…does my baby love me?”

Obi-Wan lets his eyes fall completely shut as he tilts his head up in silent demand for a proper kiss.

After all, Anakin has a point. The answer should be obvious.

#asks #prompt fill #obikin #dark fic #also absolutely anakin knew from like almost the very beginning #like obi-wan gets taken to see him and he's just too 'recently trained and aware of the peopel around him'#to really be ben from his cover story #so he's fascinated but suspicous and he finds out fairly quickly #but wants to know how he can twist and bend this young and desperate to be loved and desperate to please man #he really does love him in his own way #but he also really enjoys playing mind games with him #and he will always keep the upper hand #i think the most interesting thing between pbatmb and this #is the anakin/vader split that is sort of there but not really but not NOT #and of course baby obi-wan vs baby anakin is just worlds apart #this obi-wan wuld never really take pleasure in the direct killing #but he was ready to engineer a sittuation to make anakin kill maul #idk i obviously need a tag for this i just typed 2.4k but idk what to call it rip #vaderwan #i guess #playmaker au

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pegging-satan · 11 months

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Made the mistake of imagining Kunikida with sleeve garters now I am extremely turned on someone draw this please and thanks

#he’s so sexy and for what #maths teacher? so so so sexy I’d purposefully get some problems wrong so he would yell at me and punish me #yk how in the old days they used to whack your palms with a ruler or stick? Yeah #he could do that to me and I’d be on my knees begging for more #wow the fuck kinda trauma do I have💀 whatever it is…… I want that man #I want him to use and abuse my body as he wants I want him to rail me hard and fast till all the frustration has left him #dude I am nothing but a toy ok I would just always be ready he doesn’t even need to ask just come in and then come IN ykwim #wow like. imagine him coming home after a frustrating stressful day. he’s about to snap he’s barely hanging on. until he gets home. and you #open the door for him and he comes in drops his bag where he is and pins you against the wall with his hand around your neck #he kisses you hard and fast and then before you know it you’re bent over right there your hands clawing at the wall—#I- oh my god. after he’s done is the first time you speak to him after he got home. dazed and fucked out you go ‘welcome home’#and with them taking off his shoes and grabbing his bag he says ‘I’m not done with you yet’ and disappears into y’all’s room —#oh my goodness I just. I’m just. I am filled with lustful thoughts #specifically for this man in particular WOWZA #bungou stray dogs #bsd kunikida #kunikida smut

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princeanxious · 1 year

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The world really decided to give me a special on 'all I want for Christmas is my two front teeth' and I'm salty abt it xD

Merr Christmas and Happ Holidays yall💕

#luka rambles #why has my sleep schedule been shit? because tooth pain!#i got to see a dentist just before they closed and guess what! no cavities! none! so-why pain??#i got lotsa work done on them a little over a year 1/2 ago and apparently ive been really good abt keeping them in good shape!!#so again-why pain?well apparently when u have fillings too close to the root they get traumatized overtime and that can lead to infection!#& ive got the lovely combo of weak teeth and long curved strong roots. aka will likely be prone to extractions that will always be complex #so guess who gets root canals on one front tooth and the one to the left of it despite no cavities just after christmas?#and also they fucked up the perscriptions so that i thankfully have antibiotics but unfortunately no pain meds #so. guess who got like 2 hours of sleep before being woken up this morning to Pain. that took 2 hours to back calm down so i could sleep.#and then only got another two hours of sleep bc yknow it fckn chrismers and we had to wake up to get on the road!!#i have had a collective 8 hours of sleep in about 2 days and i get to go right back to work and will not have a day off till thursday #i am. Very Tired. is it any wonder i got an infection my body couldnt handle in the first place? w/ holiday stress to boot #i asked for a galaxy comforter for chrismas and i rly hope i get one bc i will be so ready to take the biggest nap

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quwarichi · 2 years

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reading the 15.09 script it really just strikes me how grief paralyzes Dean. The future that Chuck showed Sam shows Dean post-losing Cas, he's just. He's given up. He doesn't want to fight anymore. He's tired. Meanwhile Sam is after revenge, he "has a death wish", Dean wants to live because he family would have wanted him to, Cas would have wanted him to, but he's done with fighting. He doesn't have a death wish, he doesn't have a wish, he's just tired. Grief is paralyzing. It's exhausting.

#and that's so fucking fucked up for him. he's always looking for another way #and it's also why the state of him in 15.20 makes so much sense to me #he's ready to die he's given up he doesn't take care of his room he's barely hanging on.#he lost everyone except sam but sam isn't enough to fill that space anymore #he made his heart bigger to include more people and now that heart is empty #dean winchester meta #destiel #destiel meta #spn #spn meta #spn 15x09 #spn script

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fantabulisticity · 1 year

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Just screamed so loud in my car that both my ears rang and a spider fell from the ceiling. My throat hurts.

#my pharmacy won't fill my meds AGAIN because some motherfucker decided to make a new policy that requires more instructions or something #i keep not getting my meds when I need them because every time i get a new script sent out (like one I haven't been on before) i hear...#...nothing back from the pharmacy; generally for days; and then when i call them (every 10 or 15 or 30 minutes for several hours) no...#...one picks up the goddamn phone and i have to make time to go in in person and ask the pharmacist when my meds will be ready.#and then they tell me 'oh yeah we HAVE the script from your doctor. we just need MORE INFORMATION and sent them an ELECTRONIC NOTE...#...(reminder that i live in fucking rural idaho so most people use a fucking phone and not 'an electronic note') and haven't heard back...#...from them yet so we're just waiting on that :)' and then i have to smile and thank them bc it isn't their fucking fault the policy is...#...some fucking bullshit and then i have to call my doctor on the phone (and can never reach them directly so i have to get a...#...receptionist to leave them a note that i HOPE they'll see in the next couple of days but sometimes they don't) and since i never have...#...an emergency it's often 2 or more weeks before anyone gets back to me. i usually have to call the pharmacy again. and then they don't...#...always answer and i usually have to go in and ask AGAIN why my meds aren't ready and they go 'oh we're still waiting on your doctor'...#...:) or 'they sent us a message back but it wasn't ENOUGH information and we sent them another ELECTRONIC NOTE that they won't see for...#...days or weeks so we recommend YOU call your doctor even though we're the ones flinging you around like a rag doll and you have 0...#...control over it. and by the way we're going to continue doing this for like a fucking year every time you get a new script. and when...#...your doctor asks you if the new meds are working you're going to have to say 'i have no fucking clue because it took 6 weeks to get...#...my goddamn prescription filled and it takes 3 months for the medication to show signs of working so my pharmacy wasted HALF of that...#...time sending electronic notes instead of filling my motherfucking prescription and i was supposed to be off these meds by summer...#...since they cause intense sunburn and shit and i have an OUTDOOR JOB NOW but my acne is still bad and hasn't gone away enough to stop...#...using the super intense stuff and my face hurts and swells and oozes and i have to wear a wide-brimmed hat and sunscreen EVERY time...#...i go outside because i can get a sunburn in 20 minutes now and i've been having heat rashes from the sun for the first time in my...#...LIFE and i have to fucking monitor myself every time i go outside and it's the warm season and i need a new pair of lighter work...#...pants but they don't sell above a size 18 for women even though men go up to like a size 45 which is like a size 24 or 26 in women's...#...and men's pants don't fit me bc i was blessed with the largest ass in the history of mankind' and i am so. fucking. tired.#of all the bullshit.#i feel miserable. my mom is buying me otc imodium bc i have NO IDEA when my prescription will come available. i just want the cramping...#...to stop. i've been having diarrhea all day every day since sunday. the cramps HURT and they keep me up at night. i haven't been...#...eating much bc there's so much shit moving around and hurting in my gut that i can't feel when i'm hungry and food doesn't soumd great.#so i'm weak and slow and tired and can't go to work and i'm using up all the sick days i was hoping to save up to visit my friend in...#...cyprus this winter. so that probably can't happen. but anyways. my mom came by while i was typing this out and i feel betterish.#personal

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delta-the-mando · 1 year

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I have too many WIPs, too many projects, too many ideas. I have a dozen drafts sitting in my blog, and a dozen more documents elsewhere for fics. I have another video to make, OCs to draw to give them away to folks, an action figure review to finish.

But the ideas I’m having now with the Inspector and Deux-Deux on the brain?

*slides everything else off my desk and sets them in the cleared space*

Yep. They live here now.

More art ideas, more fic ideas-

-and best of all, that means more content with them :3

#seriously like only one fic I found has the Sergeant Deux-Deux tag and it’s a Henry Stickmin crossover #a wise person once said Create the content you want to see #and boy am I gonna do it #the inspector #inspector clouseau #sergeant deux deux #deux deux #part of me feels like I’m going to populate their Ao3 tags and part of me thinks y’all ain’t ready for the stuff I’ll write adfghj #……I should probably clarify I’m not writing a ship fic with them or anything I just have some random ideas is all #just recently watched Cock-a-Doodle Deux-Deux and I’m dead - one crack-filled fic coming up-#I think my first one though will take place after the Spider Pierre ep because I have an excellent idea >:)#dunno how long it’ll take to write these though - so I guess I can always just fill the void with more artwork #no promises as usual but one of these days these will exist

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narutomaki · 1 year

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I did so many chores today and it's not even 10am please clap

#i got 10 hours of sleep so maybe going to bed earlier is the smart move. 😬#im like. always a little tired or ready to pass out except for around bed time when i get #well i can get either cranky but unable to sleep OR i get human mental zoomies and restless legs and have to DO SOEMTHIGN NOW DODITDOIEDOIT #any way i feel like crying bcus i had to email my boss and ask for a day off that i usually work like.#p much every day since i started working there ive worked morning on Thursdays but thats the onky day my dr has off #this month before my sleep test so i need to see my doctor to have a form filled out otherwise its like.#300$ for round trip #if i forget the paper work im just going to have to take the bus (and taxis once in london) and cry

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pr0vincial · 2 months

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tag drop part one .

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fairy-angel222 · 3 months

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Being older bf! Toji’s sweet dolly gf.

Everybody wonders just how it even happened. He was so big and broody, face always serious as he peered down at people with hard glares. But you.. you were so sweet. Everyone loved you, thought you were the most darling girl in town.

You were always so kind to people, smiling brightly as you engaged in conversation with almost anyone, easily lighting up their day with your gentle tone.

You’re a joy to be around, your presence was soft, warm.. welcoming. His was mean, scary even. It was a strange mixture. Not to mention how much bigger he is compared to you. His tall height and broad body engulfing yours completely when his arm wraps around your waist.

Your hand tight in his as you two walked down the street. Intertwined fingers swinging as you attempted to tug him into the direction when something caught your eye. Batting your lashes up at him with an innocent tilt of your head. “Daddy.. can you buy me this? Pretty please?”

He thinks he spoils you too much, only chuckling deeply before letting you drag him into the store with a squeal. The singular item turning into bags full by the time you were ready to leave. You could hear the whispers circulating around you about you and your big boyfriend, huffing with the roll of your eyes when a girl questioned your ability to please him. To take all of him, insisting to her friend that she’d do a better job.

Of course you could take him, you did every single night. When your legs are bent onto his arms. The man’s large muscles flexing as he slid your little body up and down his cock. Using you like his own personal flesh light to stroke himself with your snug walls.

You mewl loudly, head falling back onto his shoulder as your pussy gushed messily. Toji’s large hand pressing both your legs to your chest with a smirk. Watching as your eyes filled with tears at how much deeper he could reach when he began slamming up into you roughly. Throbbing tip kissing your g spot meanly before bullying its way deep inside you- being able to feel his massive girth poking desperately at your cervix for entrance.

You let out a string of high pitched moans, body shaking as Toji fucked your tight pussy on and off his cock. Your snug grip ready to milk him dry as he groaned. “You’re so fucking perfect like this baby. Shit, pretty pussy doesn’t even wanna let me go.”

“Mmfg— d-daddy. So g-good, ‘m so close.”

“Yeah? Close f’ me already? You’re taking me so well baby. Taking daddy’s cock so far up that sopping pussy like a good girl.”

You smile with a choked cry, toes curling through your socks as you neared your orgasm. You wished that girl could see you prove her wrong, show her how well you took your boyfriend’s fat cock. Something she could never ever have.

#jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x reader smut #toji fushiguro x reader smut #toji x reader smut #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji smut #toji fushigro x reader #toji fushiguro

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yuujispinkhair · 5 months

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Hockey player! Sukuna headcanons

Inspired by this lovely ask by @subarusuguru. You made my head spin with the idea of hockey player Sukuna!! Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts with me! I had to write a little something 💗

Pairing: Hockey player!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: fluff + smut Word Count: 700 Warnings: 18+, smut, mentions of injuries, but nothing bad. All characters are of age. Divider by @/benkeibear

Hockey player!Sukuna, who is a devil on the ice. The rival teams always know they will have several injured players after each match against Sukuna. He has a very aggressive playstyle, and his speed and strength, combined with his quick mind, make him unstoppable.

Hockey player!Sukuna, whose maroon eyes always find you when he enters the ice. He winks at you and makes a kissy face, laughing when you blow him a kiss back. The whole hockey arena can know that you are his, and he is yours. And anyone who dares make a rude comment about him being so soft for his girl will receive a brutal body check that sends them facefirst onto the ice or into the boards.

Hockey player!Sukuna, who has a mad glint in his eyes during the whole match. He is ambitious and confident, and he always plays to win. He loves being an asshole and taunt his opponents, laughing when he can get under their skin with his snide comments. But no matter how much Sukuna riles them up, they still aren't able to stop him because he always puts his whole anger and strength into his game.

Hockey player!Sukuna, who is a completely different man when he goes on the ice with his princess. Treating you with so much care and being such a gentleman. He holds your hand to make sure you don't fall when he teaches you how to ice skate. And once he can see you are ready for the next step, he lets go of you and tells you to skate toward him to get a kiss.

Hockey player!Sukuna, who has so much fun when showing you how to play hockey. Your time on the ice is filled with playful fights and good-natured teasing comments that are so flirty that you get butterflies the whole time. His laugh sounds different too, happy and free, and he only uses his strength to pick you up and pin you against the boards so he can kiss you until you are breathless.

Hockey player!Sukuna, who grins that charming grin when he lets you score and praises you for being such a natural talent, even though you know you suck. Of course, Sukuna also has to show off a little in front of his girl, and he steals the puck from you easily, making you gasp at his speed and watch with wide eyes and a smitten expression on your face as your boyfriend skates across the ice and shoots the puck into the goal with so much force it almost rips the net.

Hockey player!Sukuna, who feels a proud buzz running through his veins anytime he sees you in his jersey. Somehow it drives him crazy to see you walking around with his last name on your back. It spurs him on to play even better and show you that he is worthy to be your man. Maybe he should buy a ring and give you his last name on your ID too, and not just on a jersey.

Hockey player!Sukuna, who loves to fuck you in the locker room after every match when his teammates have left. A victory fuck to celebrate when he is still pumped full of adrenaline and euphoria, pulling you onto his lap and bouncing you on his thick cock while groaning in your ear and telling you that it is all thanks to your love and support that makes him play so damn good. Or an angry fuck after a loss to make him feel ok again, lifting you up and slamming you against the shower wall, snapping his hips fast, fucking you hard and deep, growling your name when he cums in you and finds sweet relief in your warm cunt.

Hockey player!Sukuna, who can't stop smiling when you dote on him when he is injured after a rough match. He has a high pain tolerance and doesn't really worry all that much about the injuries, but he loves it when you take care of him and look at him with so much worry in your eyes. It makes him feel so warm, and so he happily plays along and lets you change his bandages, pet his hair, and cuddle him.

Hockey player!Sukuna, who loves to win, but who thinks his biggest victory was winning your heart.

I am so in love with him!! Thank you so much for sending me that prompt!! I hope you liked my little headcanons ;)

Comments and reblogs would be very sweet 💗

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna #jjk x reader #jjk x you #sukuna smut #sukuna fluff #jjk smut #jjk fluff

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darknight3904 · 6 months

Text

It Burns For You

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ ɢʀᴏᴡ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀᴘɪᴛᴏʟ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴀʏ ᴄʀᴏꜱꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɴᴇꜱ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ɴᴏɴᴇ, ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ. ᴏᴏᴄ ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ, ʜᴇ'ꜱ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴛᴏᴛᴀʟʟʏ ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ʜᴇᴇʟꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ. ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ!

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ

Coriolanus is 12 when he sees you for the first time. Your red uniform is pressed perfectly and your school bag looks brand new. Your lunch consisted of a hearty-looking sandwich with roast beef and lettuce and a container of fresh fruit that had his mouth-watering.

"Do you want a piece? Our maid always packs too much and I can never finish it. You can have some if you want." Your voice fills his ears

A delicate-looking hand is holding a juicy-looking strawberry in front of him. He reaches for it and it takes every ounce of self-control he has not to shove it in his mouth. Instead, he takes a small bite and thanks you for sharing.

"Don't you have a lunch today?" You ask

He doesn't. The school had said they would start supplying the students with lunches soon but how soon? Coriolanus had already been attending for a number of years and still nothing.

"I already ate it." He lied

"You're still hungry though. You can have the rest." You say with a smile as you push your fruit bowl to him.

"Is it your first day?" He asks

"Yes, my mother thought that my governess wasn't doing a good job so she had my father enroll me here. I miss being at home with my new kitten though. She has long white hair and she is the cutest thing in the whole world." You said

Coriolanus can't believe that you had your own governess, let alone a pet to call your own. He later learns from Arachne that your father became incredibly rich by manufacturing weaponry for the Capitol. Despite your inherent wealth, you've never flashed it around him.

You and Coriolanus are 15 when you discover all the lies he tells at school about his family. He had left his uniform jacket behind on his chair and you got his home address from Sejanus, meaning to give it back so he'd have it for tomorrow. Instead, you had discovered the Snow's decrepit-looking building and barely functioning penthouse. Coriolanus' heart nearly stops when he emerges from his room to see you and his Grandma'am sitting together as she compliments your shoes.

"What are you doing here?" He asks, ready for your judgment and teasing words

"I wanted to return your jacket, Coryo. You'll need it for tomorrow."

The red of the jacket in your arms matches his face as he ushers you to the door, trying to hide the fact that Tigris was preparing cabbage in the kitchen that would undoubtedly stink the entire place up with the scent of the Snow's poverty.

"Stop rushing me, your cousin invited me to stay for dinner." You say trying to stop the way he is leading you to the door.

"You don't want what she is making. Tigris is a terrible cook." He said

Tigris lets out a shout of disagreement from the stove and Coriolanus ignores it.

"How about, I go out and get something to add to the meal Tigris is cooking, and by the time I get back you change your attitude about me staying for dinner Coryo. "

And with that, you walk out the door and slam it in his face. He's rather stunned at your declaration but knows you're serious. He rushes around their home, trying to clean up what he can while Tigris laughs at his frantic motions. Then, just as he was debating whether or not he wanted to change out of his uniform, you return from your short trip to the closest market.

"I wasn't sure what Tigris is cooking so I got a couple of things." You say placing the bags on the table.

Coriolanus is sure you spent a fortune on what is in these bags. Fresh bread accompanied by a sickly sweet fruit spread and a block of butter sits in one while the other holds something else in a brown box. You take your seat next to him at the ugly little table he has eaten too many meals at and cut a piece of the bread for Grandma'am. He is worried when Tigris starts portioning out the cabbage she cooked on the stove. Coriolanus watches your expression as you take a bite but nothing that he expected happens. You don't knit your brows in disgust or get up to leave and take your fresh bread and mysterious box with you. Instead, you go back for a second bite and compliment what Tigris has done with the food.

He sits stiffly next to you and can barely accept the slice of bread you offer him. You excuse yourself to use the bathroom and Tigris reaches across the table and pinches his shoulder.

"Stop sitting like that, Coryo!" She scolds

"Like what?" He asks,aware that Tigris meant how oddly straight his back was.

"You're making her uncomfortable. You've been friends with her for years she isn't worried about what our home looks like." Tigris says

"She might not be but what happens when she goes to school tomorrow and talks?" He asks

He shuts up when he hears the sound of the bathroom door opening again.

"That was lovely Tigris. I've never had anything like it, I'll have to invite you all to my own home for dinner sometime. Our cook makes these pastries that are simply wonderful. They even get sold at local markets, which leads to this..."

His eyes widen when you finally unveil what was hiding in that second bag. A dozen expensive looking deserts sit in the brown box you brought, each one decorated differently.

"I hope I picked something everyone would like. I know Coryo mentioned that Grandma'am liked chocolate so I picked this one just for her."

Coriolanus feels a wide smile stretch across his face as you pass out your little desserts. His worries about you gossiping to their peers fade from view as he bites into what he thinks is a croissant. You laugh at his reaction and toss a napkin at his face which is most likely covered in the gooey fruit filling that was in his pastry.

He walks you back to your home that night and thanks you for making his night. He can't remember the last time Grandma'am had smiled from eating chocolate. You accept his thanks and gently tell him that he shouldn't be ashamed about his financial situation. He never gets to disagree with you though because a soft kiss is pressed to his lips followed by a rushed,

"Goodnight, Coryo! Thanks for the cabbage!"

He walks back to his own home with a jump in his step. Thoughts of you consume him as he smiles to himself, proud his first kiss was shared with you. He feels his heart burn with something that felt like it was going to come up and out his mouth as he finally made it back to his room, you officially had him wrapped around your finger.

Your room is flooded with sunlight the first time Coriolanus sees it. A soft, silky-looking bed spread sits atop one of the biggest beds he has seen as you beckon to your cat, Maisy to come and say hello to him. He looks at the oversized wooden dresser that sits against one wall. He sees the photograph of him and you that was taken a few weeks ago at your 17th birthday party nestled among little knickknacks. Books Coriolanus has never even heard of line your shelves as he you place a record on the player that sits on your desk. Soft sounds of a piano and the words from an unnamed singer fill your gorgeous room as he turns to you.

"Do you want to dance?" He finds himself asking

You accept and he leads you or well tries to. You're rather stiff and it turns out dancing is harder than it looks because he isn't any good at it either. You laugh as he trips over his feet and end up falling with him, landing on the ground entangled in each other. Your fingers brush his curls from his eyes as his nose brushes yours.

"What're you doing?" You ask quietly

"Nothing." He responds, his eyes flicking to your lips.

The moment his lips touch yours, a tingle shoots down his spine. This is a real kiss, not what you gave him when you were both 15. He cups your face and your hands are tangled in his hair as he deepens it. He felt his head spin as you moved against him, almost as if you wanted him to swallow you whole right here on your bedroom floor. A giddy feeling swelled in his chest when he pulled away for air.

"Coryo...what was that?" You ask

"I thought you'd know by now. That was a kiss, darling." He laughed brushing his thumb across your lip

"I know that...but why'd you give me one?" You ask

"Don't you know?" He smiles and places a chaste kiss on your lips "My heart, it burns for you, it always has."

Part 2 is out now!

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ohbo-ohno · 7 months

Text

Kinktober Day 31 - Free Use

Poly 141 x Reader - 4.3k (on ao3)

summary: Glimpses into your life as a housewife and free use toy for the 141 post-retirement. (Reader POV, second person)

cw: soft sex, half-drunk sex, light somnophilia, anal sex

note: last kinktober of the month! sorry i got off by a day at the end here, but i hope you guys have enjoyed everything so far :) btw this is less "free use" and more "sex with the 141 while living in domestic bliss"

Your days are filled with sex. Sex with all of your boys, in every position you can think of, in every room of the house they’d bought for the five of you after retiring.

You all split the chores evenly these days. No one does more than they’re more comfortable with, and you’ve all found your stride, something to give you purpose, after the rigidity of the military.

Gaz has taken to bee-keeping. As odd as it sounds, he’s got the patience for it, and he’s quite protective of his bees, even has nearly an entire library of books he’s taught himself with. Price helps him out by selling the honey he harvests, keeping track of his profits and managing the household’s finances.

Ghost hunts, spends his days out finding game to bring home, tracking herds and predators around your property. Johnny does a little of everything - fixes things when they break, chops firewood every morning, helps Simon skin his prey, tries to help Gaz and his bees.

And you take care of the house. You make the meals, clean up after everyone, and find yourself perfectly happy to keep your men fed and warm.

Your other chore is to bend over whenever they want. Well, bend into any position whenever they want, Ghost and Soap tend to enjoy getting a bit more creative. It’s not really much of a chore, considering how eager you are to do it.

It’s a great deal for you. Johnny and Kyle are always eager to get you off, and neither Simon nor Price is stingy with the orgasms these days either. You live your life floating between domestic labor and orgasms - not a bad existence, by your metric. You get to live without a care in the world, four men to take care of and four men to take care of you. It’s like a dream come true.

———————————————————————

You hum to yourself as you dance around the kitchen, wearing nothing but a frilly apron as you wait for your pancakes to cook. The small radio on the dining room table plays music from a local radio station, something cheery to start your day. It’s hard not to smile, with sunshine pouring in from the windows and a batch of fresh eggs to scramble on the stove.

Your small moment of bliss is interrupted by a pair of hands on your hips and a large body bracketing yours.

There isn’t even a moment of fear, you instinctually lean back into the man behind you. A moment later, a rough beard brushes over your cheek.

“Pancakes this mornin’?” Price asks, big paws resting on the softness of your hips.

“Hmm,” you hum, tilting your head to claim his lips. He sways the two of you back and forth slowly, to the beat of the song, and lets you take your time with him. “Blueberries in yours,” you tell him when you come up for a breath of air.

One hand shifts to your ass, the other to your stomach, and you feel him smile. “Thank you, love. Got time for a quick round before they burn?”

You mimic his smile, let him bend you over slowly. “You’re just in time, Captain, I haven’t cracked the eggs yet.”

“Perfect,” he purrs, pressing himself to your backside. He tucks his plaid pajama pants down a little, rubbing his warm morning wood against you. You fold your arms beneath your head, let your eyes drift closed as his fingers make quick work of getting you ready.

Moments later, the heavy length of his cock fills you slowly. You moan, shifting your legs a little bit wider as he massages your waist.

“There you go,” he sighs, bottoming out and grinding himself slowly inside of you. “Tight as always, perfect girl.”

You giggle a little drowsily, wiggling your hips against his. “Always for you, John.”

He sighs contentedly, pulling out slowly. “Don’t I know it.”

He fucks you slowly, a steady pace that drags against all your most sensitive parts on every thrust. John’s thick, and the stretch isn’t quite comfortable with no prep. But you’re still a little loose from your time with Soap and Gaz last night, so it’s far from painful to take him.

He hunches over you as he gets closer and closer to the edge, elbows resting on either side of you and breath ghosting across your nape.

“Aw,” you hear Soap say,voice rough from sleep as he steps into the kitchen. “I wanted first go today.”

“Early bird gets the worm, Johnny,” Gaz teases, settling into a chair in the little breakfast nook Simon had built soon after moving in. “You’re the one who stayed up so late with her last night.”

“Wasn’t just me, jackass, you’re the one who-”

“Boys,” Price grunts, hips slamming against yours, leaving you squirming beneath him. “Will you shut the fuck up while I’m balls deep in our girl?”

You can’t help but snort beneath him, pushing yourself up enough to arch your back further, stick your ass further out for him. “Ye-yeah, boys.”

“Hush,” Price scolds, one hand shifting to your neck where he forces you flat to the counter again. “‘M almost there…”

He groans lowly as he buries himself deep inside of you, pumping slowly as you tighten up, trying to milk him. “Fuck, feels good…”

You smile against your arms as the pleasure that had been building inside of you starts to dull to a simmer, something warm in the root of you.

Price pulls out only moments later, two thick fingers tucking into you to keep any of his come from dripping out. “Keep me safe inside you, pretty thing, c’mon. Clench down.”

You take a deep breath and try your best to listen, straightening up and doing your best to keep yourself from dripping down your thighs.

He turns you around, leaning you back against the counter and cupping your cheeks in his hands, tugging your face up to give you a soft kiss. “Thank you,” he whispers into your mouth, just quiet enough for you to hear.

“Of course.” You reach up to grab his wrists, holding him close. “Never gonna say no to you, John.”

The two of you linger in the moment, sunlight warming your skin as you breathe into each other.

It’s Soap that interrupts you, an intentionally obnoxious clearing of his throat nearly making you jump. “Any chance at coffee sometime today, bonnie?”

You huff a laugh into Price’s mouth, pushing him away and shooting a half-playful look to Johnny. “Can’t give me a minute of peace, can you?”

He smirks, “Nope.”

John scoffs as he pulls away, moving you with him and giving you a quick tap to the ass to send you over to the counter with the coffee machine. “Someone’s gotta teach you some patience, MacTavish.”

“If Ghost still hasn’t gotten it into him, no one is,” Gaz laughs, shifting enough for Price to join him on the bench.

“Who says I haven’t?” Ghost says, stepping from the hallway. He’s already got a cigarette lit between his lips, and you wave him away with a spatula.

“No!” You scold, trying to shoo him closer to the window. “No smoking in my house! You know I hate the smell.”

Ghost rolls his eyes good-naturedly but lets you herd him to the open window, resting a shoulder on the windowsill and blowing a mouthful of air. You hmph, satisfied, and move to flip the pancakes. “You’re not the one who has to get that smoke out of all the furniture, you know.”

Ghost sighs, but he’s dramatic enough about it for you to know that he’s intentionally exaggerating his annoyance. “Awful early for all that nagging, woman.”

You glare at him playfully, picking up an egg to crack. “Awful early for a cig, too.”

He huffs and you crack your egg, the kitchen shifting into a comfortable silence. You continue your humming as the song changes to something more upbeat, unable to keep a smile from your face.

———————————————————————

You’re half tipsy, giggling into Soap’s mouth as the two of you stumble into the house. You manage to trip over the lip of the entrance, and you yelp as you start to fall.

Johnny just barely manages to twist and catch the both of you in time, grunting loudly as he hits the ground. The breath is knocked from the both of you, and you lay there in the dark for a moment, still.

You’re giggling as soon as you can breathe again, unable to stay still with all the energy and wiggling against his chest. “Jo-Johnny!”

“What?” He pants, still not fully able to take a breath in. You can see the outline of a smile, though, and his hands come up to fully cup your ass. “You were the one taht tripped, lass!”

That only makes you laugh harder, kicking your feet against his shins. “I-I know!”

Now he laughs, a full-bellied sound that has you bouncing on his chest. He manages to push himself up so that you’re in his lap, and presses his mouth to yours without warning.

You make a high sound of surprise but quickly kiss him back, licking into his mouth when he parts his lips.

Your kiss is messy, both of you a little too drunk and a little too needy to bother for tact. Johnny’s softer than he usually is, all tongue and no teeth. You wrap your arms around his neck, shifting so your knees rest on either side of him and squeeze his hips.

“Need you,” he pants into your mouth, shifting you over him to start a slow grind. “Need to be inside you, bonnie.”

“Yeah, please,” you say, quickly dropping your hands to his belt and clumsily working at his belt. It takes several tries for you to get it undone, and both of you get more and more desperate. Your underwear get more and more damp as you work yourself over the rough denim of his jeans, your skirt rucked up around your hips as he palms at your ass.

“Come on,” he growls, landing a harsh slap against the meat of your thigh. You yelp at the sting, then giggle, and finally manage to get his belt loose, quickly tugging it off.

“There you go,” you mumble, throwing the belt to the side and hearing it slide against the hardwood. “C’mon, c’mon, need you now, Johnny.”

He nearly snarls into your mouth, jerking your panties to the side and stuffing two fingers into you with no warning. You jolt higher on your knees and moan, digging your nails into his shoulder.

“Sit still,” he growls, tugging you back down and scissoring his fingers quickly to spread you. He slips a third finger in easily, your cunt already slick and dripping for him. “Stop fuckin’- stop wigglin’ around.”

You can’t help but giggle again, pushing your smile against his lips and nipping at his chin. “Can’t hold me down, MacTavish?”

You feel him grin, growling playfully, and before you can keep prodding him he’s got you flipped onto the floor beneath him. You squeal when he somehow manages to keep his fingers inside of you, pushing deep as he pins you down. He tucks your knees higher, both of your legs resting on his shoulders.

“I’ll show you held down, lass,” he growls, smile just barely visible above you. “Want it rough, then?”

You bite back another laugh, pushing up just enough to bite his bottom lip and tug it down with you. “As rough as you’ve got, MacTavish.”

It works as the perfect taunt you’d meant it as, and he’s buried in your tight heat before you can try and push him any further. Your head falls back against the hardwood floor as his falls to your throat, both of you moaning loudly as his hips meet your thighs.

“Fuck,” he groans, teeth pressed against your throat. When you arch your neck even further, he bites into your flesh, sucking a hicky and making you ever wetter between the thighs. “Fuck.”

“She tight, Johnny?”

You both yelp at the sudden voice, Johnny jolting away from your neck and shifting inside of you, causing you both to melt again.

There, in the corner of the room, is Ghost. He’s smoking a cigarette by the window, illuminated only by the glow of his cigarette butt and the moon. You can’t quite see his expression, but you can just imagine the cocky smirk.

Johnny groans above you, sinking back down to press kisses along your throat and forcing your knees almost to the side of your head. “Scared the shit outta’ me, Ghost,” he sighs, pulling out just enough to give you a few tiny thrusts. You moan, letting yourself relax into the floor.

“Not surprised,” Ghost says, and you watch as he stubs out the cigarette and take a few steps to where the two of you are tangled in each other. “How much did you two have to drink?”

You laugh at the question, but it melts into a moan as Johnny starts to find a rhythm that works for both of you. Your knees nearly knock against your own face as he makes his way across your neck, leaving bruising kisses.

“Not-” you choke a bit on a particularly rough thrust, just barely managing to keep your eyes open and watch as Simon settles into an armchair. “Not that much.”

“Yeah,” Johnny pants, lifting himself up enough to look down at you. “How-how much’ve you had, L.t.?”

Ghost snorts, taking a swig from a beer bottle you hadn’t noticed before. “Less’n you two, I can tell that much.”

You and Johnny both snicker, half out of breath already, but none of you try and keep speaking as Johnny starts to really fuck into you, finding a perfect rhythm that’s just a little messier than usual, a little jerkier.

The two of you make no attempt to be quiet, moaning and whining loudly as you work to find that peak. Even with folded in half as you are, you try to push into him as much as you can to help him hit the perfect spot inside of you.

You nearly scream when he does, clenching down so tightly onto him that he’s forced to a still inside of you, his length throbbing in time with your heartbeat.

The world blurs around you as Johnny takes your lips again, pressing your tongues together in a slick slide as he batters inside of you.

“Clo-close,” you gasp, clawing down his shoulders. Your nails dig in enough through his shirt to have him moaning, arching further into your touch.

“Me too, bonnie.”

He shifts enough to lean his weight further onto your thighs, newly freed hand smoothing down your chest and stomach to work against your clit. You melt beneath him, muscles going loose as you turn into nothing but a limp doll for him to fuck.

Your eyes squeeze shut as your orgasm starts to overcome you, Johnny’s work against your clit and the hot length inside of you finally shoving you over the edge.

“Fuck- fuck!” Johnny nearly shouts above you, your orgasm triggering his own. You cling tight to him, dragging his body as close to you as possible while your muscles clench down around him. The two of you are nearly drooling in each other’s mouths, eager for as much physical touch as possible.

It feels like an impossible amount of time later when you hear Ghost crouch down next to you, see his shadow cast over both you and Johnny. “You two done, then?”

You feel Johnny huff where he’s leaned against your cheek, feel his smile grow against yours.

“Yeah, Si,” you say, squirming a bit beneath Johnny to try and get out from under him. “I think we’re done.”

Johnny gans a little but he obliges and shifts back enough for his softened cock to pull out of you. You both whine in sync at the separation, and he finally lets your legs fall to the ground, heels thudding against the floor.

Johnny rolls off of you, flopping to the floor next to you. “Carry us to bed, L.t.”

You giggle and blink up at Simon, softened from your orgasm and the lingering buzz from your night out. “Yeah, L.t.,” you lift your arms high, making grabby hands like a toddler. “Carry us to bed.”

Ghost snorts above you, but he still leans down and scoops you up beneath the knees and the back. You squeal when he hefts you over his shoulder into a fireman's carry. He ducks low again and you grasp onto the bottom of his sweatshirt, then giggle when Johnny flops bonelessly over Ghost’s other shoulder.

He carries the two of you effortlessly down the hall, and Johnny’s soft laugh joins yours - well, at least before you hear a muffled slap and he quiets himself/ Of course that only makes you laugh, earning you a spank of your own.

You’re dropped rather carelessly onto the massive mattress all five of you share these days, hand flopping against what you’re sure is Price’s chest as Ghost falls on top of Johnny where he’s dropped.

You hear a muffled oof! from next to you and curl into Price with a smile, tucking yourself close to his chest. He rumbles a low noise, instinctually tucking you close. You can hear Gaz getting annoyed with Ghost and Soap, feel him kicking at them to fight for his own spot on the mattress. You fall asleep with Ghost’s back to yours and Price’s chest to yours, surrounded by warmth.

———————————————————————

You groan into the sheets in frustration, fists clenched tight. “Simon, come on, please.”

He spanks you sharply, but the pain is hardly noticeable compared to the need you’re drowning in.

“Quiet,” he grunts, three fingers spreading your ass. “Need to stretch you out properly, don’t want any tears.”

You whine, arching your back and pushing your ass further into the air. “I’m ready, I promise, just need you inside. I’ve been stretched for the last ten minutes!”

“And you’ll get stretched for ten more if you don’t quit complaining.”

It’s almost impossible to bite back a complaint at that, but you manage to dull it down to just a near-painful eye roll. You try your best to stay still for him, stay patient, even as you feel like your pussy is dripping like a faucet.

Ghost has fucked you with far less prep than this, you know he’s just trying to be an asshole - no pun intended. You also know that the more you rush him, the slower he’ll go. So you force yourself a little looser, let your body sink more comfortably into the position he’s got you in.

It doesn’t make the wait any easier.

You’re not sure how long it’s really been when he finally deems you stretched enough, but he finally pulls his fingers free. You whimper at the cold dribble of lube as he spreads a bit more across your stretched hole, the slick sounds echoing in the room telling you he’s likely spreading it across himself too.

“Alright, love,” he says, notching himself at your back hole with both hands on your hips. “Loosen up for me now.”

The stretch is sinful as he finally gives you his cock, enough for you to feel the sting but not at a painful point. Your eyes roll back in pleasure instead of frustration, and your knees shift just a little wider to welcome him more fully into your body.

“Fuck, you feel good<’ he grunts, grip tightening on your hip.

On a normal night with Ghost, you’d expect minimal prep and long rounds of edging. He likes to keep you from coming for as long as possible, then coax an orgasm that feels earthshattering from you when he finally shoves you off that ledge. Either that, or he fucks you quick and dirty - in the yard outside, in the shower, in the middle of the night, really any time he feels like getting off. With you around, there’s no need to masturbate. That leaves you getting bent over and used at any time he feels the slightest urge to get off, but you couldn’t mind less.

Now, though, Ghost paces himself far more slowly than usual. His thrusts are long, bottoming out and pulling back until the head of his cock just barely breaches your hole. If you couldn’t feel the way his hands bruise your hips, you’d almost call his pace leisurely.

The two of you are near silent as he fucks you, content to fill the air with soft moans and the occasional whine instead of dirty talk. It feels nice, such slow sex with Simon. It’s a side of him he rarely lets you see, even now.

He knows you can’t come from anal alone, and is feeling generous enough to grab one of your hands and shift it down, telling you, “Rub your clit for me, love. Wanna feel you come.”

And, well, who are you to disobey?

You bring yourself to a slow, rolling orgasm with rhythmic circles against your clit, hips working against his even with his grip. You moan more loudly now, moith open and spit spreading across the pillow.

“Si-Simon,” you gasp. “Feels so good, so deep.”

“Yeah? Deep in your ass, huh, love?”

“Mhmm, mhmm. Can hardly br-breathe around you, Si.”

“I know, so big in your little hole. You’re taking me well, though, being such a good girl for me. Gonna - fuck, love - gonna make me come, give you a nice load then plug you up.”

“Yes, yes…”

“You want that? Want to be stuffed with my come? Keep me inside of you ‘til I say you can take the plug out?”

“Yes, I’ll keep it in for you, Si, be so good for you.”

“Oh, I know it, love. Always a good girl for me, most perfect girl… fuck, feel so good around me…”

He groans when he finally gets himself off, pulling you back onto his harsher thrusts and letting your channel squeeze the come from him. You rub your clit a few more times, ignoring the aftershocks in favor of forcing your muscles to milk him a bit.

When he finally pulls out, he tucks a good-sized plug into your loosened hole before any of his come can slip out. You shift from your knees to your stomach with a soft hum, tugging a pillow into your arms as your eyes drift shut.

“You stayin’ in here for a bit?” Ghost asks, brushing some of your hair away from your face and dipping down to press a dry kiss to your cheek.

“Hmm. Gonna take a nap before dinner.”

“Alright. Need any help tonight?”

“No,” you hum, curling deeper into the bedding. “You can set the table, if you really want.”

You hear him laugh as he pulls away, weight shifting off of the mattress. “I’ll leave that to Johnny, I think.”

A few moments later the door click softly shut behind him, and you float into a peaceful slumber while trying to half-plan dinner.

———————————————————————

You’re half-asleep when you feel someone shift in bed next to you, their body covering yours. There’s a distinct hardness against the small of your back, and you press back against him.

“Stay still,” you hear Gaz whisper in your ear as he urges you further onto your stomach. You hum a little in response as he settles over you, kneeing your thighs apart enough for him to rest between them. “Don’t wanna wake anyone else up, right sweetheart?”

You hum again in what’s probably supposed to be agreement, but is really just a half-asleep sound. You trust all your boys, though, so you’re perfectly content to let Kyle do whatever he wants.

You sleep naked these days, so it’s easy for him to spread your cheeks a bit, to rub at your folds. You’re still a little damp from the shower sex with Price you’d had right before bed, and Kyle doesn’t seem to think you need much more than that.

You’re almost asleep again when you feel the tip of his cock at your hole, and then the familiar weight of him entering you. It’s hard not to groan, especially when you’re so dazed, but you think you do a good job.

Well, until Kyle shushes you loudly, stuffing a few of his fingers into your mouth.

You make a small offended noise, but it shifts into a sound of pleasure when he sinks fully inside of you.

“Hush. Don’t wanna share you right now, just needed to feel you for a bit.”

You feel his hips shift against yours before he sort of falls to the side, taking you with him. You’re left spooning him, his cock buried deep inside of you and kept warm by your body.

He sighs, pleased, against your back and pulls his fingers from your mouth, letting his hand float down to rest on one of your breasts. He squeezes you for a few moments, but that only works you up more and has you squirming against him.

Kyle makes a small, whining noise and squeezes you more tightly to him. “Stay still, love. Just want to hold you, let you hold me. Go back to sleep, yeah?”

You sigh, debate trying to get him to finish what he started, but ultimately decide that it sounds like far too much work for your current state.

So instead you let yourself relax into Gaz, body quickly adjusting to the weight and stretch of him. It’s easier than you might’ve thought to doze off like that, held close to Kyle’s chest.

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cockaiine · 7 days

Text

The first time Sukuna eats you out, he doesn’t stop until you nearly pass out.

He’s willing to do it after you pass out, too.

The King of Curses never thought he’d find pleasure in having his head buried between the thighs of some woman. He would find it insulting if someone looked down at him—but when you look at him with tear-filled eyes, a look begging him to rip another orgasm out of you, he’s leapt back in within seconds and moving his tongue at a pace he wasn’t aware tongues could do.

It started off simple, just something he wanted to try out. He licks a thick stripe from your hole all the way to your clit, causing you to cry out and recoil slightly, head pushing back. You’ve always been quite sensitive, but now you’re acting like it’s your first time getting touched. It intrigued him.

Sukuna hums, tongue spinning around the sensitive bundle of nerves as red eyes intently watch you writhe and whimper, not doing a thing to control the lewd sounds escaping you.

Your hands land in the bush of pink hair, tugging gently, as if to bring him closer. Short eyebrows furrow, a grunt escaping him and vibrating through your very being. He’s glad he hadn’t cuffed you up as he had planned to. Something about your inability to control your reactions enticed him, making him want more.

One hand leaves its setting on your thigh, instead going for your clenching hole, rubbing his thumb over it a few times just for the sake of hearing you moan.

“Such a mess…” He wears a victorious smirk on his face, slipping a finger in and watching your face contort with great imbuement. He can feel his cock throb in his pants, hard and ready. But he can wait. Just seeing you break apart at the feeling of his finger penetrating you is enough reason for him to hold back.

He slips another finger in, leaning his face back in again to lick at your clit. The stimulation drives you crazy, feeling the knot in your stomach begin to form unusually fast. He can tell from the way you tighten around his fingers that your close. He runs his tongue around your clit as if it’s his mission to make you cum right that second.

And Sukuna is no faliure.

You cum right there and then, blabbering his name like a prayer and holding his hair so tight it’s nearly painful. His grunts fill you up, wallowing whatever he could of your essence like it’s his last drink.

You taste unique, but it’s a taste he enjoys. One he wants to try again. He pulls another orgasm out of you, then another, and another. Until your legs are shaking and you can barely feel your lower half anymore. Yet he refuses to take his head away from you. Sukuna is not a believer, but between your legs lies the gateway to heaven he’s sure.

“One more,” he commands again, even with tears running down your face as you sob no more. “You can do it, can’t you?”

You're left with no choice but obliging, nodding with a trembling lip. He smirks and hides his face again, that's when the euphoric feeling hits, making you arch your back and moan his name.

#✧˚₊‧𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 #jjk x reader #jjk #smut #jjk smut #sukuna #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna smut #sukuna ryomen smut #sukuna ryomen #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader smut

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mahgyu · 6 days

Text

Nanami smut + suggestive audio

• minors do not interact!

──── Nanami, determined to make your first time memorable, dedicates himself to providing your with as much pleasure as possible, even taking care of the foreplay.

Lying side by side, your moisture glistens over your intimacy, with your head resting on Nanami's outstretched arm, one leg resting on his waist, keeping you open and vulnerable. Nanami's skilled fingers play incessantly with your clitoris.

"Kento... Please, I need more" you plead, lifting your hips in search of more contact with Nanami's rough fingers.

"Shh, you need to be well-prepared to receive me. I don't want to hurt your beautiful virgin pussy."

"Ugh, Kento, but I'm already ready" you grumble petulantly, with an annoyed expression that elicits a persuasive smile from Nanami.

"Oh, are you really?" Before you can respond, Nanami inserts two of his slender fingers into your untouched interior. He can barely move them due to the way you squeeze them; your eyes roll back in surprise and you moan sharply. Nanami feels the moisture in his boxer increase; if he weren't so skilled at controlling himself, he would have come just from the way he's touching you.

"You see? Your little pussy can barely handle my fingers, and you already want my cock? Don't be so eager, sweetie" Nanami intimidates you, chuckling softly as he sees you shrink back and then kissing your cheek.

He keeps his fingers moving slowly inside you, exploring your soft and tight walls. His thumb continues to stimulate your clit, applying enough pressure to make you see stars.

Your stomach knots tighten; you grip the sheet with one hand and squeeze Nanami's bicep with the other. Your doe-like eyes meet Nanami's cloudy gaze, both full of desire and excitement. He almost growls at the sight of you so surrendered to him.

"Yeah, good girl. Don't worry, the more aroused you get, the better you'll feel good. I promise, after you cum on my fingers, I'll fill you up completely. That's what you want, isn't it?" Nanami whispers near your ear, watching you nod frantically in agreement as you surrender to pleasure. He plants kisses along your jawline, moving up to your cheek and heading towards your mouth, where they start a slow and furtive kiss, savoring every second, every millisecond.

⠀

(Reposting)

I hope you're wearing headphones 🤭 Your interaction is very important to me, reblogs and comments are always welcome 🫶🏻💕

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criminalamnesia · 3 months

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Simon x Reader whose already work with TF 141 for a pretty long time. And one day, there's a traitor around the base, leaking their information. All of the proof are leading to reader but reader always deny it! And they interrogated reader, and reader always deny it! And he's (with other 141 members, of course, but it mostly him) do their torture methods to get information out of reader. They keep doing it until someday, the real traitor finally captured!

And make the reader traumatized, pls. Like, she would have trust issues, trauma, and others. She wouldn't forgive them, tho.

ooooo the angst. had to sit on this one for a few days before I wrote something, but here goes nothing.

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

when you blink open your eyes, the room is dimly lit. it’s silent save for the sounds of your labored breathing.

you must’ve passed out. one second johnny— a man you’d known for years—was slicing into your skin with a knife. the next, you’re staring into an empty room.

your hands jerk up involuntarily. still bound. the rope holding them to the arms of the chair have rubbed them raw. the skin is bright red and bloody. it makes you grit your teeth.

you look down at your lap, taking inventory of the parts of your body you can see. large gashes break up the fabric of your tac pants. the blood surrounding the deep wounds is dry and crusty.

one of the cuts looks like it’s getting infected. you swear you can see bone.

you’d taken this kind of suffering before. been capture by enemies, held and tortured and pushed to the brink of death. this was different. this was being done by your team. men you’d bled with. cried with. laughed with.

one you’d even slept with. the same one you loved. the one you called yours.

the door to the room swung open, hitting the wall with a metal thud. your head slowly lifts, eyes squinting to see him. by his stature, you know it’s simon.

he doesn’t bother shutting the door behind him. instead, he walks towards you slowly. as he comes closer, can make out his eyes in the sea of dark paint he smears around them. the same paint you’d helped him apply a time or two.

“back for more?” you say, and it’s meant to sound sarcastic, but all it sounds like is pitiful. your voice cracks, and pain seeps into your tone.

the first rule they’d taught you about scenarios like this was to never let the enemy know it’s working. never let them know that they’re hurting you— that they’re slowly wearing down your defenses.

well, you’d just broken that rule, and you hadn’t even meant to.

you didn’t know how long you’d been tied up, subjected to torture by men you had once called your family. all because a fucking liar whispered your name into their ears. all because they fucking believed it.

apparently the years meant nothing to them. to him, least of all, considering he’d done more damage to you than the rest of them.

simon comes to a stop in front of you. his hands are empty by his sides, but that’s not reassuring. there’s a table full of weapons off to the side. he would have his pick of the litter.

“ready to talk yet?” he says, and his voice is gruff. his tone is hollow. he’s speaking to you the same way he’d spoken to countless enemies. it makes you sick.

“fuck you, simon,” you spit out.

the betrayal of john, gaz, and johnny had hurt. but simon’s betrayal? that was enough to almost put you in the ground.

you’d stopped pleading with them the second they tied you to the chair. now, you were angry. furious. rage filled your veins, and if you weren’t beaten to all hell, you’d find a way out of these fucking restraints and strangle the man in front of you to death.

the man you loved. you’d thought you meant something to him, but apparently not— because who tortures someone they love?

“if you talk,” he ignores your outburst. “it’ll be easier. quick.”

“fuck. you.” you enunciate the words, your jaw impossibly tight as you grit your teeth. “im not the fucking rat.”

“all the evidence,” he starts as he disappears from your vision. you know he’s going to pick his weapon of the hour. you force yourself not to shudder.

“points to you.”

“take that bullshit evidence and shove it up your ass, riley,” you seethe, ropes pulling taut as you lean forward in the chair.

he’s back in your line of sight now, brandishing a large knife.

“you’re only making it harder on yourself, love,” he tuts, and then he’s swinging the knife down, right onto one of your fingers.

you scream as the blade cuts right through skin and bone. your teeth dig into your lip, drawing blood as you refuse to give him more of a reaction. it fucking hurts, but you’ll be damned if you let yourself cry.

“feel like talking now?” he asks, watching as half of your left pinky finger falls to the floor.

“or should we take off another?”

you look up at him, hoping he can see the hatred in your eyes as you speak your next words. “you could take the fucking hand off and I’d still have nothing to tell you.”

“let’s see how true that is then, eh?” he replies, and raises the knife again. he’s about to swing, when someone comes running into the room.

“ghost!”

it’s johnny. he’s obviously winded as he stops beside simon, dropping his hands to his knees as he struggles for breath.

“what, mactavish? im busy.”

“they’re—” he gasps. “they’re not— the— rat.” he says between breaths.

the room goes impossibly still. so quiet you swear you could hear the men’s heartbeats (or maybe that pounding in your ears was your own).

“you sure?” simon’s voice is softer as he lowers the knife and turns to johnny. the younger man nods, his eyes trained on you. you can see the regret in them, the sorrow.

“it’s fucking shepard.”

it’s not funny, but at the news, you burst into laughter. the men stare at you in confusion, but you can’t stop.

you’re laughing so hard you’re crying, and they’re just standing there.

“are you alrigh’?” johnny’s asking as he moves towards you. he’s fully recovered his breath now, and he drops to a crouch to be eye level with you.

you don’t answer— you can’t. you keep laughing. distantly, you hear the knife simon was holding clatter to the ground. can just make out the sound of more footsteps out in the hallway, coming towards the room.

you pass out.

when you wake up again, you’re in the infirmary. your eyes open slowly, adjusting to the bright fluorescent lights.

“easy, love,” a voice to your right drawls.

your eyes are fully open now. you look down at yourself, noticing the lack of bindings. noticing the iv taped to your arm, the stitched cuts, the black and blue bruises, the missing fingernails and missing finger.

the person sitting next to you clears his throat. that’s when you look up and meet the eyes of your captain.

your captain. the man who was supposed to lead you, to keep you safe. what a fucking joke. he’d started the damn witch hunt.

“how d’you feel?” he asks, his words soft, like he’s trying not to scare off a timid animal.

you stare at him for a beat. then two. then you’re moving, pulling the iv from your arm and shakily pushing yourself up in the bed. price is telling you to stop, reaching out to push you back down, but you slap at his hands.

“get the fuck off me!” you shout, and that takes him aback. he stops, frozen, as he watches you shift in the bed. you throw your legs over the side of it and prepare yourself to stand.

“you really shouldn’t—” he begins after he’s regained his senses, but you pay him no mind. you place your feet on the ground and start to stand. your legs wobble, almost give out, but you’re able to stand. barely.

“shut up,” you growl, stumbling forward and towards the exit. he’s moving to cut you off, and you slide him a gaze that’s sharper than a knife. “and leave me the fuck alone.”

he halts again. he seems almost scared of you— but that can’t be right. even on your best days, he would still beat you in hand-to-hand combat.

he’s not scared of your threats or your frail body. he’s scared of what he’s done to you.

just then, johnny and gaz come through the infirmary doors.

“cap, y’alright? we heard yellin’—” johnny begins, but his mouth snaps shut at the sight of you out of bed.

you’re heaving from your spot next to the bed. your legs are shaking violently, threatening to give out any second. you feel nauseous and numb.

“let’s get you back into bed,” gaz says, and he starts towards you, but you stop him as your gaze snaps to his.

“don’t come any fucking closer. any of you.”

“bonnie,” johnny murmurs. he sounds miserable, but you don’t care. don’t give a fuck about how any of them feel.

“don’t. im leaving,” you grunt out, moving a foot forward slowly. you’d be damned if you fell in front of them.

“you can’t, love. you’re in no shape to be walking.” john says, and you snarl.

“and whose fault is that?”

the men stay silent as they watch you slowly shuffle towards the foot of the bed. you’re bracing yourself to walk on your own when simon walks in.

“get back in bed,” his tone is blunt. you ignore him.

you remove your hand from the bed, move to take a step forward without support, and you begin to crumple to the floor.

simon moves forward, quick as a cat, and catches you. he lifts you into his arms bridal style, and you’re screaming hysterically. your limbs are flailing the best they can in such a battered state. you’re in fight-or-flight mode, your body betraying your desire to put up a steely front.

your palms slap against simon’s upper body and his masked face. he gives no reaction. he doesn’t say anything. the others are watching the exchange silently. the room is buzzing with tension.

“get off me!” you screech, landing a slap to simon’s cheek. “let me— let me go! let me go!” you’re gasping for breath, tears streaming down your cheeks. you’re panicking. your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest.

“put me down! get— get— off me! stop—” you sob.

the doctor rushes into the room then, yelling at the men for allowing you out of bed. you can’t make out what she’s saying over the rush of blood in your ears. you feel light-headed. you can’t breathe.

“put them down, now!” the doctor yells at simon. “they’re having a panic attack— I thought I told you four to stay away from them? they’re too vulnerable right now—” the doctor is chastising them as simon places you back in the bed.

spots are dancing in your vision. you don’t even feel it when the doctor sticks another needle into your arm. the words being exchanged above your head are muffled. it’s like you’re underwater.

john’s face comes into view, then johnny’s, then gaz’s. as your eyes start to close, you notice the only face you don’t see again is simon’s.

when you wake up again, it’s been two weeks.

the doctor had put you into a medically induced coma to allow your more serious wounds time to heal, without risking another episode. unbeknownst to you, the members of your team had stayed by your bedside almost the entire time— minus simon. he hadn’t come within ten feet of the infirmary since the day of your panic attack.

there’s fresh flowers on the bedside table. a steady beeping of the heart monitor. a fuzzy feeling in your head.

it feels like a dream, all of it does. none of it feels real as you settle into your body again. but then the hurt starts, and you remember the truth.

your family betrayed you. your lover betrayed you. they locked you up and tortured you. they didn’t believe you.

when the doctor came to your side to check your iv, she smiled.

“how’re you feeling?”

you look up at her, and it takes a moment for you to speak.

“don’t,” you begin. your mouth feels like it’s full of cotton. “don’t let them…in here. don’t…wanna see them.”

the doctor nods in understanding, and she doesn’t say anything else to you. she turns and walks out of the room.

the door clicks shut behind her. she lets out a sigh before turning around to face the three men.

“they don’t want to see you.” she tells them, and their expressions drop. they don’t protest, and like wounded puppies, they walk off.

no one else comes to check on you for a few hours.

you’re in and out of consciousness— can’t tell what’s real and what’s a dream. flashes of your torture come back to you. flashes of a smile. of a scarred face. of hands on your hips and—

you crack your eyes open, and the room is dark. the only light is the blinking of some of the machines. it illuminates the room enough to allow you to see a large, dark figure slip from the room. the door clicks shut so quietly it’s almost imperceptible.

that’s when you notice fresh flowers on the bedside table.

your eyes start to droop once more, and you chalk up whatever you just saw to a dream, while simon exhales heavily on the other side of the infirmary door.

————————————————

authors note:

I hope this alright! it’s one in the morning (and I’m half asleep writing this) so I apologize for the errors that are most likely present, and the sense this most likely lacks. I feel like I could write a whole book about this idea, but im cutting myself off to sleep lol.

thank you for the ask, I hope I did your idea justice. 🫶

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