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sugume · 3 months

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BORED N’ IGNORED w/Jujutsu Kaisean

( TW ) f!reader, explicit content, bored!Sukuna & Toji, Ignored!Gojo & Choso cunnilingus, thigh riding, blow job, humiliation, face fucking, fingering, reader snaps a pic of gojo and sends it to her friend, sub!Choso or is he just a pleasure dom…?

Featuring: Gojo Satoru, Ryomen Sukuna, Choso Kamo + Toji Fushiguro

authors note: I re-wrote this like 10 times so pls ignore any mistakes. also, me posting everyone but Geto on his birthday is criminal...

☾ CHOSO KAMO

“Haha! I got the kill! Finally,” You cheer. “Oh shit, someone's chasing me.” You move your controller, focused on getting yourself to safety, ignoring your boyfriend who's underneath your desk eating you out like a starved man.

Choso just wants to make you cum. He knows he's in the doghouse for what he did last night so he’s trying to make it up to you. He didn’t know you were going to treat him like some common whore though. You won’t even acknowledge that he’s eating you out on the cold hard floor. He wants to scream but he knows you’d be even more angry, so he makes it his mission to make you cum so hard you have no choice but to talk to him.

He sucks your clit harder, rubbing his fingers inside your gummy walls. You clench around them but show no sign on the outside that you’re about to cum. He knows his girl though. Knows you better than you know yourself. He smirks into your clit.

“Shit—oh fuck—they won’t get off my tail—oh my god!” You scream at the game, trying and failing to mask your pleasure. Choso adds another finger into your cunt, stretching you good you almost drop the controller on his head.

Choso picks up the pace, sucking on your clit so hard he’s scared he might leave a bruise—and finally, you acknowledge him.

“m’gonna cum! Choso!” you cry, reaching down to pull his hair as you cum all over his face.

☾ RYOMEN SUKUNA

“Look at me!” You cry, kissing up and down his shaft before taking him back into your mouth You go as deep as you can before gagging. You pull back up and suck on his tip. You look up at Sukuna who doesn’t even look affected, staring at the TV. You dig your nails into his thighs. He doesn't react.

“Kuna!” You scream, grabbing his jaw and forcing him to look down at you. He stares at you with disinterest. “What?”

“Why aren’t you paying attention to me?” You hiccup, sitting back on your knees and grabbing his cock. You squeeze it.

“You want my attention little one?” He grins down at you. You sniffle and nod, bending down to kiss the tick of his cock. He pats you head and you almost cry in relief.

“Oh, so damned touch starved—upset ‘ve been ignoring you? I apologize little one. I'll make it up to you.” He grabs your head with both hands, guiding you to his cock. You open your mouth and take him in again. He grunts, pushing you to the hilt even as you gag and try to pull yourself up. He lifts your head back up before slamming it down on his cock. You claw at his thighs. “Giving you all my attention now. Gonna face fuck you ‘til you don’t remember your fucking own name.”

☾ GOJO SATORU

Satoru holds onto your thighs as he pushes his leaky cock into you. He needed this so bad after the day he had. He didn’t even pay mind to what you were doing before throwing his clothes off and climbing onto the bed.

“Fuck—Feel good, Angel?” Gojo questions as he thrusts into you from his place above you. You don’t hear him though, too busy texting your friend about the latest drama that happened in your friend group.

“Angel, did you hear me?” Satoru moves his hands from your waist to your tits. He pinches hard. You grunt, the grip on your phone wavering. Satoru’s harsh thrusts distract you for a second before you come back to your senses and read your friend's text. ‘Why are you making so many spelling mistakes LOL?’ You grin, clicking the camera and turning it to Satoru who looks down at you half angry and half pussy drunk. You snap a blurry picture of his sweaty abs and V-line before clicking send. Your friend laughs.

“Angel,” Satoru whines grabbing your phone. “Stop treating me like some crapy dildo machine!” He holds the phone over his head with one hand, the other holding you down by the tummy.

“Toru! I was having an important conversation,” You moan, wrapping your legs around his hips, digging your heels into his ass. He grunts his heavy hand on your tummy moving to squeeze your side. “Please, baby? Just gotta send one more text then I'm all yours—promise.”

☾ TOJI FUSHIGURO

You hold onto Toji’s bicep as you ride his thigh. You grind your pussy harder onto his leg, making sure your clit drags over the hard material of his pants. You moan and look down at the dark patch your slick is making.

“Can you quiet down princess? Need to finish this application and you're distracting me.” Toji says, erasing the sentence he knows is incomprehensible. You moan louder. Throwing your head back and arching your tits up in his face. He grunts, turning to the side to rewrite his response.

You huff, if he wants to play like that. "You better not ask me to get you off later today.” You grumble, moving your own hands up to twist and tug your nipples. Your legs tighten around his thick thigh. You feel yourself getting closer. You grind down harder, pussy clenching around nothing.

“Gonna cum! Ahh—feels so good, you feel s’good!” You slur, legs shaking as an orgasm washes over you. You slump down against Toji’s big chest. Toji’s face heats. He doesn't know whether to be pissed off or turned on that you just came all over his thigh like that. He grumbles something inaudible, bringing a hand down to grab a handful of your ass as he presses submit. “Oh, you’re fucking on princess.”

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yuutx · 24 days

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ೀ ׅ ۫ . 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐘 '𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 ! (𝒢𝒪𝒥𝒪 𝒮𝒜𝒯𝒪𝑅𝒰)

gojo satoru x f!reader ﾉ 18+ content. ﾉ nsfw ﾉ cum fetish ﾉ cumming hands-free ( m ) ﾉ squirtingﾉ slight praise kink ﾉ slight degrading kink ﾉ air humping ( m ) ﾉ multiple orgasms ﾉ oral sex ( f receiving ) ﾉ msub + fdom ﾉ not proofread ! ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

definitely not the longest fic 've written buttttt i wanted 2 jus' get this outta my head ! srry if this is not the best fic, 'm incredibly sleepy, though i do hope you enjoy reading despite this not bein' my best work ! art credits are here ! ♡ + ↻ are rlly appreciated ! !

Sticky arousal painted his features, the creamy substance dripping down the sides of his face. Wet lashes batted at you, his gaze fixed upon your form, pleading for you to treat him with more of your essence. "Let me taste you more.. please.." The man below you begged, his hands clasped together in front of him, his eyes sparkling with lust and admiration. His mouth hung open, his tongue lolling out, awaiting your release. You felt his warm breath fan across your cunt, sending shivers up your spine.

You took a step forward, the heels of your feet clicking against the hardwood floor. His hands grabbed your hips, pulling you towards him, the tip of his tongue pressing into your slit. "You're such a good boy.." You cooed, your hands carding through his snowy locks. You watched as he slowly lapped at your cunt, his nose rubbing against your clit. Soft whines left his lips, his warm breath hitting your sex. He looked so pretty below you, his eyes staring up at you, a pleading look in his crystal blue irises. "More.. let me taste more.." He whined, his tongue sliding up and down your slit, coating his taste buds with your slick, his eyes never once leaving yours.

Your fingers curled in his hair, pulling his head closer to you, your hips grinding against his mouth, his lips enveloping your clit. He let out a muffled moan, his nails digging into the skin of your thighs, his head moving in sync with your movements. His tongue moved expertly, his nose buried deep in the folds of your slit, his head tilted upwards, his gaze burning into yours. "So needy.." You muttered, a soft chuckle leaving your lips as you felt him twitch beneath you. A shaky gasp escaped his lips, his eyes closing, brows furrowing as his cock spasmed, a sticky stream of cum shooting out, landing on the hardwood floor beneath him. He whined loudly, his hips jerking forwards, his lips wrapping around your clit, his eyes fluttering open once more. Had he just.. came from you calling him needy? Oh, what a perfect, beautiful little slut you had in your grasp. You were going to enjoy this.

"Such a whore.." Your voice dripped with venom, his tongue moving faster, his hips jerking uncontrollably, his cock spasming again. Another stream of cum, this one longer than the last, shot out, landing on his stomach, his body quivering as his hips bucked upwards, a muffled cry leaving his lips. "Babyyyy..c-cant do this t' me.. makin' me crazy.." He slurred, his length pumping out ropes of cum, his mouth sucking on your clit, his tongue drawing small circles against your skin. You watched as he shook beneath you, his eyes rolling back as his mouth opened wide, a long, drawn out moan leaving his lips, his hips thrusting into the air. "F-fuckk.. no.." He begged, tears forming in his eyes, his legs shaking violently, his body trembling as his cock continued to twitch and spurt out his essence, the liquid landing on his abdomen. "Mh.. Can't even control it.. can't stop cumming.. can't stop.. so hard.." He whined, his eyes closing as a single tear ran down his cheek, his body shivering with ecstasy as he easily came hands free, his cock completely untouched, yet drenched in his own cum, a mess of semen sticking to his skin.

It was a sight to behold. So utterly submissive. You smirked, watching as his cock twitched for the umpteenth time, another wave of his cum painting his torso. His mouth fell open, a loud whine leaving his lips as his tongue drove itself deep into your core, the tip of his pink muscle grazing the top of your walls. "You're so perfect like this, Satoru.." You breathed, his name falling from your lips in a sweet sigh. He was too focused on you, on your pleasure, that he failed to notice his own body convulsing further, his length throbbing and leaking. "So fucking hot.. I could watch you cum forever." You mused, the words leaving your mouth in a whisper, sending a jolt of electricity up his spine. He groaned against you, his eyes squeezing shut as his tongue began to move, the muscle swirling around your core, his head bobbing in sync with the movements of his mouth. His jaw worked tirelessly, the muscles straining under the constant use, his eyes closed as he lost himself in the act of eating you out. It was euphoric, his body quivering, his cock twitching, his mind focused only on the task at hand. Your taste filled his senses, drowning his brain in the deliciousness of your nectar, the sweet honey varnishing his tongue.

The taste of you. God, he could live on your taste alone. The thought made his stomach clench, his dick pulsating with desire. It was the most delicious thing he'd ever tasted, a sweet treat that made him weak in the knees. The way your juices coated his lips, the way they slid down his throat, the way your taste lingered on his tongue, it was like a drug. He couldn't get enough of it. Your taste was intoxicating, and he was hooked. It was an addiction, one he was more than happy to succumb to. He wanted nothing more than to be wrapped in your taste, to be drowned in it. He wanted to live in your flavor.

A harsh tug on his strands caused his eyes to open, his vision blurry from his tears. His cock was throbbing, the organ pulsating against his stomach, precum pooling in his navel. He felt the familiar pressure in his core, the feeling building up in his loins. "Mh.. gonna.." He trailed off, his body shivering as his cock began to shoot out thick spurts of his seed. It was an intense orgasm, his body jerking and shuddering with each stream that left his length. He felt his stomach grow warm, his essence coating his skin, dripping down his sides. "Ahhh.." He moaned, his face a mess of tears, saliva and cum. His body trembled as he continued to climax, his length continuing to squirt his seed, the sticky substance staining his skin, the sticky liquid oozing down his torso. His body quivered as he released his load, his hips bucking up involuntarily, his hands gripping your thighs tightly. He could feel your fingers running through his hair, gently caressing his scalp. "Mmm.. 'm so close 'toru.. you're doing such a good job.. don't stop.." You whispered, your voice sweet and soothing, your fingers scratching his scalp, eliciting a soft purr from his lips. You were so sweet and patient, he could spend hours between your legs, his tongue worshipping you.

"G-god… mhm…" He whimpered, his voice shaky and high pitched, his face scrunched up in pleasure, his eyes half lidded, his mouth hanging open, a string of saliva dribbling down his chin. "Cum.. a-at.. cum, baby.. p-please.. need more of-!" He paused, feeling the result of your orgasm against his tongue. You cried out, your hands gripping his hair tightly, his name leaving your lips in a moan, his tongue eagerly lapping at your pussy. He drank down every last drop, his tongue sliding against your slit, his teeth lightly grazing your clit. "S-so.. so.. gooood.. tastes 'mazing.. fuckkk.." He groaned, his eyes fluttering closed, his mouth closing over your cunt, his lips sealing around your folds. "Moreee.. Fuck, Y/N.. G-give me more.."

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dante-mightdie · 3 months

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jealous!toxic!ghost and prices daughter pt. 2

every time simon has seen you since you found out about him sleeping with other people, you’ve been sulky and pouty with him. you still let him shag you but you also try and pick fights with him…

which he shuts down instantly…

“so what if I shagged her? ‘m a grown man and I can do what I want so pack it in…” he’d spit as he throws his shirt on, leaving you to wallow with the covers pulled over you and your arms crossed over your chest

few months later and your father is being awarded with a medal and wants everyone there to celebrate. simon can see you, all prettied up with a dress that price definitely bought you for the occasion

his hand on the small of your back as he introduces his pride and joy to his colleagues and soldiers. doesn’t miss the way that Alex fucking Keller raises your hand to his lips as he introduces himself, a cheeky grin on his face as he watches you blush

simon originally planned on pulling you to the bathroom for a shag if he got bored enough at the event but he can’t even seem to get a second of your attention because you’ve been hanging off of Alex’s arm for most of the night

“gonna let him touch your daughter like tha’?” simon asks price as they stand at the bar, narrows his gaze as he watches Alex take you to the dancefloor, one arm wrapped tightly around your waist and holding you flush against him

price flicks his eyes over to you before shrugging his shoulders, “Alex is a good lad. I’d rather she spends time with him instead of that little prick she’s been crying over.”

simon only grunts in response, raising his glass to his lips before taking a sip of his bourbon

he corners you outside the bathroom an hour later so he can finally speak to you alone, “you get tarted up for all your dad’s soldiers then?” he says, placing one hand on the wall and towering over you

“excuse me?” you spit, trying to push past him but he just pushes himself right up against you, caging you in

“you heard me, sweetheart. you gonna let him touch what’s mine?” he says with a hum at the end, taking one hand up to pinch your cheek, making you scowl at him

“I don’t belong to you, simon. now, leave me alone or I’ll tell my dad what you did.” you say without a single falter in your tone before slipping under his arm and stomping off, your heels clicking against the marble floor

he spends the rest of the night watching you with a mean look on his face, even telling soap to fuck off when he tried to talk to him

an ugly feeling creeps up in his chest as he watches you trace the tattoos on Alex’s arm with a fascinated look in your eye, fawning over how cool they are

feels like kicking himself when he remembers how you used to try and ask about his tattoos only to be shoved off of him, his harsh tone telling you not to touch him

#mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost simon riley #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader

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seventh-district · 11 months

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ignore me this is a continuation of the tags on my previous vent post lmao

#Seven.txt #Seven’s Public Diary #cw vent post #cw vent #vent post #man. it’s whatever. let’s look on the bright side- it’s been a while since i’ve had a good crying on the floor session so maybe i was #overdue for one anyways. i feel a bit better now and i didn’t even give myself a headache so that’s a win #ugh it’s thundering outside fuck. i forgot there’s a severe thunderstorm watch tonight. i rly hope the power stays on bc i have stuff to do #and speaking of the weather i might as well say that today’s Weather Report is uhhhhh #You Don’t Even Know Who I Am by Patty Loveless #and also Loveless by PVRIS. and Tapping Out (Stripped) by Issues. lmao some days i can't just pick one. i can't help myself!#they're all on this month's playlist anyways. and i finally linked it in my pinned post! which i had been meaning to do for a While #anyways! all of that stuff aside i do have good news!#Cynthia did confirm that the Sakura Ranchus i wanted are still available!!! so that's really truly great and i’m happy abt that #i honestly can’t believe they stayed listed for like. a year and nine months??? but i guess it’s bc of their wens being a bit overgrown #but that’s why i like em. i want the imperfect ones. i want the ones that no one else wants bc i know i can give them a good home #in spite of them not being ‘show quality’ or whatever #and if my father has anything else to say abt how he thinks they look bad and generic and whatever else he can kiss my fucking ass #bc it ain’t his money being spent and they ain’t his fuckin fish #anyways i thought i had smthn else to say but i forgor #so im gonna go get to work on stuff that needs doing and i’ll finally end what’s probably the longest series of tags in tumblr history #(i should really just type this shit out in the actual post and put it under a cut. maybe i’ll start doing that in the future)

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fairy-hub · 5 months

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𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐝

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: fluff comfort fic, reader is stress and crying for reasons you decide, established relationships, holding you close, being sweet on you, they are all so soft wanting to help you feel better or at least less alone while upset, confession, toji is a bit rough but trying his best

Oreo: in case anyone else is also crying and needs to be held. Yeah I'm sticking with Satoru is sugar bear cause he is cuddly like bear and he likes sugar, Toji is Teddy Bear because obviously he is. Matching nicknames for my favorite two

𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮

You’re sniffling, looking down and holding yourself tightly when you shuffle out of the hallway. It doesn’t matter. Satoru six eyes could see your tearful eyes, quivering bottom lip and your nails digging into the soft fabric of his sweater.

You’re desperately trying to hold yourself together about to crack into another flood of tears at any second. “Hold me.” Your voice breaking.

Satoru’s chest is tightening, his heart dropping into his stomach. Holding his arms open for you, closing the space in two long strides. He wraps his arms around you when a harsh sob wrecks your fragile body.

He lifts you off your feet prompting you to wrap your legs around his waist. “Cry and take deep breaths sweetheart I’m here for you.” Your tears are soaking through his white shirt.

You lift your head up, studying the tear stains and smear of mascara. “’m sorry ‘m messing up your shirt.”

He gently kisses the side of your head. “Mess it up, or I can take it off. You can lay your head on my bare chest and listen to my heart beating for you.” You sniffle and look up at him, your beautiful eyes are bloodshot.

“Please take it off sugarbear.” Satoru walks past his bed into the bathroom. He turns on the light then grabs a tissue holding it to your nose for you to blow, tossing it in the trash.

Satoru opens your makeup wipes to slip one out. “Anything for you honeybun.” You close your eyes. He’s careful when wiping your eyes and lashes clean, giving you two kisses. Cleaning your cheeks and forehead of foundation you get three more kisses.

He slides the wipe down your nose giving you one more soft, loving kiss. A smile tugs on your lips when he kisses the tip of your nose. “You’re smile is beautiful makes my day brighter, you’re the sunrise that makes my day.” He throws the wipe away and carries you out of the bathroom, flicking the light off behind him.

Your eyes widen, “I love you!” You bury your face in his neck and squeeze him tighter like he might vanish.

Satoru’s heart skips a beat. “Look at me sweetheart.” He smiles when you lift your head. “I’m deeply in love with you too.”

𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢

Toji crouches next to the bed, pulling back the covers. Your tears are trickling sideways, soaking into the pillow. “Cuddle me, please Toji I need to be held.” He frowns and you look away, tugging the covers back over your head.

Toji finds crying irritating, taught to suck it up he grew up expecting that of others. But seeing you recoil from him dissolves any anger. You deserve to feel your emotions, to cry, and to have him hold you.

He will have to learn how to comfort you and become the man you deserve.

Toji stands up to slip his sweater off. He grabs the blanket slowly pulling it off of you. “Ya wearing my sweater 'cause it reminded ya of me right? This smells like me, I took a shower at a shitty motel before coming home, wanted to smell good fer ya.” You sit up and slip his sweater off, tossing it onto the floor.

He bunches up the sweater and you rise your arms up for Toji to slip his sweater into you. “We can cuddle, I'll be ya like one of ya Teddy bears.” You scoot over giving Toji room to slip into bed. He flips over your pillow, hiding the side soaked with tears.

There is a small smile tugging on your lips. "Teddybear is a good nickname for you." He rolls his eyes climbing into bed, you sit to the side letting him get comfortable. Toji's large body takes up most of the bed.

He's sitting up, pouting, mulling over your new nickname. A darkening blush spreads across his cheeks. You climb onto his lap, "You're big and strong like a bear, and you're going all soft on me. Cuddling you is like cuddling up to those oversized teddy bears you see around valentine's day." He sighs, glancing down at you to see that soft smile spreading.

"I'll let you get away with it 'cause ya cute." He leans down kissing your forehead, wrapping his arm around you.

𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮

"Meh!" It's a short squeaky chirp of a meow behind your head. A rumbling purr follows as a soft warm fuzzy kitten walks onto your head. Gently pressing its soft beans into your face, their purr gets louder as they delightfully use your cheek to make biscuits.

Another cat comes clawing up the side of the bed. "Meeeehhh." A fluffy brown cat with bright blue eyes announces themself with a loud, chirpy scream "You were upset so I canceled with Toru wanted to surprise you. I saw these two on the side of the road n' couldn't leave them." He sits down on the bed next to you.

He grabs the proudly purring kitten off of your face for you to sit up. "They-they are sooo cuteee. Are we keeping them?" There is shining hope replacing the dull sadness tainting your beautiful eyes.

Suguru's heart aches to see your wet cheeks with tears and bloodshot eyes. "They are our babies now, no one is taking them from us. We can hide them for two weeks until we move into our new place together." He gently sets the small fluffy orange cat on your lap next to the chocolate one. He wraps his arm around your shoulder, holding you close.

The orange one tackles the other, lightly biting their ear. The chocolate kitten gets on its back and delivers bunny blows to the orange one's gut. Which pushes the smaller kitten off.

In surrender the fluffy orange kitten rolls over to show their soft white belly. Pushing their fluffy paws into the air. You sniffle and get on Suguru's lap, he spreads his legs for you to sit between.

"I still need to be held." Suguru carefully wipes your face dry with the baggy sleeves of his sweater.

"Won't let you go till you feel better. I'm sorry you're feeling this way darling. We can get through it together. I'm always here for you whenever you need me." He kisses the top and side of your head, trailing several more kisses down your cheek.

His kiss is tender, loving, and salty from your tears. "When you get hungry," kissing your cheek, "we can grab a bite to eat then become some criminals together by sneaking in stuff for our new babies"

oreo creampie m.list

Part two; Kento, Sukuna, Choso & Shoko

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seravphs · 11 months

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ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — GOJO SATORU x FEM READER

Gojo “my girl is mad at me I hope I die” Satoru

wc — 600

tags — fluff, companion piece to modern intimacy so you’re also married in this one, love as annoyance

Gojo looks like he tried to drown himself in the shower.

If you hadn’t just mopped the floor, you might be tempted to give in and beckon him over to cuddle. As it is, your annoyance is only mildly tempered by how adorable he is. You suspect this was his plan all along.

“Go dry your hair,” you tell him coldly, hardly even giving him a glance after his first step into the room.

He pouts, which you were expecting. He should really learn some new tricks at this point. You make a shooing gesture at him to drive home the point.

Instead, he clambers down next to your feet, all six feet and two inches of him compressed down to fit his head into your lap. Gojo’s so lanky it gives you the impression of a Jenga tower collapsing in on itself to watch him get on his knees.

“But you’re mad at me,” he whines. Chilly droplets are seeping into your thighs.

“I’ll be madder if you keep getting my pants wet. Go on, you’ll catch a cold.”

“I deserve it.”

“Gojo.”

You say it as if you’re short of patience, when really, you’re far from it. You’re enjoying this way too much.

He turns his head so he can look up at you. His hair falls into his eyes, making him look like a sad, wet puppy, shivering at your feet for mercy. It’s an act, of course.

He’s the strongest man in the world. Still, you feel your heart melting as you would for any poor abandoned creature. You brush his bangs out of his face, trying to hold onto your weakening resolve.

He knows he’s got you. It’s just a matter of time.

“I can’t live with myself,” he says. “If you’re going to be mad at me, you should just kill me. It would be easier-“

“Don’t be dramatic,” you say, but that’s when he strikes the killing blow.

He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he just looks at you with eyes that are suspiciously shiny, his pretty pink lips in a soft frown. You sigh and put the book you were trying to read down.

“Go get the hairdryer.”

Gojo perks up immediately. You stay on the sofa. He sits on the ground between your legs as you run your hands through his hair, moving section by section. It fluffs up as hot air moves over it.

“Are you still mad?”

“Want to take a guess?”

He turns around so fast he almost hits himself in the face with the hairdryer in your hand.

“I’ll never do it again, I swear.”

“You swear?” You’re teasing.

Gojo places one hand over his heart and raises the other like he’s making a pledge. You’re the only nation he’d ever devote himself to, anyway. “You know my motto is happy wife, happy life.”

“I don’t know, actually.” You laugh. “Did you just come up with that?”

“Now you’re just being mean,” he says.

“I’m glad you picked up on it,” you say dryly.

You like him pathetic. It appeals to your worst nature, the one that kind of wants to pinch him just to see him cry. You don’t know when you developed such feelings, and you’re certainly not sadistic towards anyone else, but Gojo just provokes you. It’s what he does. He’s good at being annoying.

But you love that part of him, just as much as you love the part of him that can’t live without your attention.

“You really learned your lesson?” You ask. “You won’t do it again?”

“And go through this again? You kidding?”

You pinch his cheek in annoyance, but he just laughs and wraps his arms around you, ignoring the way you try to wriggle away.

“Your hair isn’t dry yet!”

“Doesn’t matter,” he says, rubbing his cheek against yours. His shampoo smells good. “Happy husband, happy wife.”

He knows you too well for you to disagree.

#sera writes #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojou x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #gojo fluff #gojou fluff #jjk fluff

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etfrin · 5 months

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⤷❝The Study | Coriolanus Snow❞ˎˊ-

⇢☾Warning: NSFW | riding, toxic relationship, arranged marriage, mentions of cheating (no actual cheating occurs), riding, dom sub undertones, degradation (he calls you a slut once), hair pulling, edging if you squint, crying, pinv sex, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), creampie, dry humping, clothed sex (you were still wearing a dress) | lmk if I forgot anything!

⇢☾Pairing: young president! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader

⇢☾Summary: A video of you flirting with an elitist goes viral and Snow calls you to his study to confront you about it and it ends up in sexy times ;)

⇢☾A/N: btw for those who doesn't get why Snow asked reader to mark him, it's to show the Capitol that despite rumors, they are actually very close. And uhmm I hope you guys like this!

< masterlist > < bc: @cafekitsune >

< tags: @roryzzz @stelleduarte @strengthandstay @skywalker1dream >

The marriage was a facade, a show for the Capitol that the president didn't stand alone. The people in the manor were the only people who knew how fake the marriage was. Some of the elite of the Capitol could also tell. People can fake everything but not love, never love.

You learned early on Snow wasn't capable of love. A lover wouldn't do half of the atrocities Snow committed as he got to power but he had never done anything to you. You didn't exist for him in the manor and he was always respectful when you were by his side.

It was manageable, the life you had, nobody could mistreat you, not as the First Lady of Panem. However mistreatment and flirting are very different things, and the people of Capitol aren't a stranger to wandering hands and lustful eyes.

You didn't think Coriolanus would mind that you sometimes let the hands linger. That you would bask in the attention you were so deprived of from your husband. You were proven wrong as a video of you and an elitist was going viral all over the Capitol.

You didn't cheat on Snow, but you were too close to the stranger. His hand on your waist and your smile too wide. Cheating or not, it wasn't any less inappropriate.

A remainder by your servant made you walk to the study in which Snow spent most of his time. You were wearing a knee-length white dress, something that clings to your curves. It was a desperate, pathetic attempt to distract Snow. A part of you knew it wouldn't work and would make your mistake more obvious but it was an attempt better than none.

You knocked at the door and you could hear him say come in. So you did. Your hands are behind your back, and your eyes look at the floor like it's the most interesting thing in the world.

“Do you know what you have done?” He asked, you still couldn't look up to meet his gaze. Your fingers fumble behind your back as you bite your inner cheek. You give him a nod.

“And what have you done?” He questioned, his voice like the calm before the storm. “I created unnecessary gossip that isn't good for your reputation,” you mummer.

“What else?” He said, his tone suspicious and waiting for the confirmation. That's when you look up at the most beautiful demon you have ever seen. He looked all glorious with his suit and hair slicked back. “I didn't cheat,” you said, firmly, your eyes fierce and reflecting the truth of your words.

When Snow didn't reply, you insisted again, “I. Didn't. Cheat. It's a line I will never cross, Coriolanus.” Again, he didn't say anything, instead, his gaze went up and down your body, his expression unreadable. You flushed from his stare, not sure if wearing this dress was the right move after all. The man had always surrounded himself with those stupid white roses and this was the symbol that you had noticed.

“Come and sit.” You begin to walk towards the chair only to be interrupted by his words, “No, not there, in my lap.” You freeze from his words, but your brain tells you to obey his every word.

You make your way to him, your heels clicking against the marble floor. Your hands are sweaty and your heart is in your throat. You reach him before you straddle him without a word being uttered. Your dress hitching up to your thighs. Your hands around his shoulders as you wait for further instructions from your husband.

“What do you think we should do to make the rumors go away?” He asked, his voice deep and so seductive. You weren't even sure he realized the effect his voice had on you. You let out a small gasp when his hands held your hips, cementing your place in his lap.

His hands were warm and perhaps maybe it was biased but you thought they would be ice cold. Instead, his palm laminated heat against the thin fiber of your dress making your skin warm. Your former flush turns into a deeper shade of red.

“We could…” you couldn't focus, how could you when he was touching you like this? When he was so close. He was never this close to you before. Ever. His touch reminded you of the fact that despite everything he is a man and your husband at that. A demon in human flesh.

“We could do more PR,” you mumbled. He raised an eyebrow at the suggestion. “I mean if we do it right, I am sure it will work,” you fumbled. He gives you a nod.

“Take off my shirt,” he demanded. Your eyes widen and you hesitate. “Do it or I’ll make you.” he threatened and you know not to take his words lightly. With shaky fingers, you unbutton his shirt. The process was slow, meticulously slow. His toned physique comes into complete view, making your breath hitch. Fuck, he was a Greek God of tragedy and sin.

“Mark me up,” he said, his tone emotionless. “What?” you questioned, surprised. “You think you’re acting innocent?” he sneered, “You heard what I said, my wife. It's because of your suggestion. Mark. Me. Up.”

You swallow down your nervousness and bring your lips forward to his cheek. You pressed a soft kiss there and felt him tense underneath you. You drag your lips to his jaw and nip the skin, the tip of your tongue soothing the small teeth mark as he lets out a grunt. It was music to you. A masterpiece of symphony and you needed more, so much more. Snow had you deprived for months and it's time to take.

Your lips continue to nip at his jaw, placing sloppy wet kisses as his breaths get heavy. You moved down to his neck, a moan leaving your lips as you attacked his skin with your teeth. Sucking onto his pulse point and moaning when the salty taste of his skin hits your taste buds. Your hand goes to his neck, tilting his head to give you more access. All the while he lets out quite controlled sounds. You licked his Adam's apple before wrapping your mouth around it to suck a purple bruise. Marking him up just as he wanted.

His hand on your waist gave you a firm squeeze which made you bite harder and made him hiss. You lean back panting, as you admire your artwork of teeth marks and red love bites. You pressed down into him and moaned as his hard bulge pressed right against your clothed cunt. Your panties were soaked by now. “Snow,” you whimper.

“Corio, call me Corio” he whispered. His eyes briefly turned to a white bouquet of roses before he met your gaze. You didn't think much of it and whispered, “Corio.”

“Corio,” you tried the name again on your tongue and watched his eyes darken. You leaned in, your lips brushing against his. “Let me kiss you. Let me make you my husband, please,” you whispered.

You waited for a verbal answer but all you got was another squeeze on your waist. You were desperate enough to take what you could get. You started by grinding against his bulge. The juices that made your panties soaked are now ruining his pants.

You let out a breathless moan as you gained delicious friction against your pussy but it wasn't enough. There's no hell and heaven for which this would be enough. You crashed your lips to his. The kiss was all carnage and desire. Uncoordinated, something so unlike Snow Corio that it made you moan into his mouth. Your hands are in his hair, pulling him closer. Your lips glide against each other perfectly. His tongue took over your mouth, not leaving any place unexplored, untouched by him.

You break the kiss with a gasp. Your hand going towards his pants to unzip. The motion stopped as Corio held your wrist and you looked up at him. “You’re my wife, you're my right,” he said, “but do you deserve it?”

It was more than a question, it was a promise waiting to be made, a bond waiting to be sealed. “I…” you begin to speak, you meet his eyes, sea blue you wanted to drown in, “Never again, Sn- Corio. Never again.” “Please,” you added for extra measure. You had his taste already, no one else could ever compare. He had to know that too because he gave you a sharp nod.

You get up from his lap, taking off your panties first, not bothering with the dress. You knew he liked it now, more than you thought so he would. You find your rightful place in his lap again, his pants and boxers past his knees.

His cock was hard and twitching, the length had an angry tip with its slit profusely leaking pre-cum. It looked painful and it was because of you. You. You wondered if you had power over him now for a brief second but you shake your head clear of these thoughts.

Instead, you catch his lips again, the kiss slower this time. You raise yourself a bit so his cock can align itself to your entrance. Your dress is raised to help you. Even if his cock was on the girthy side with veins on the underside of his cock. You knew your pussy would stretch around him, that your walls would be a splendid fit around his length. You were too impatient for any sort of foreplay, you wanted the stretch, you wanted him to make you dizzy with his cock splitting you apart.

You let out a whimper as you began to sink onto his cock, your eyes flicked to him and his eyes were zeroed down to the place you both were connected now. His hands are on either side of your hip, guiding you down on his length. It was after his cock was fully stuffed in you, that his self-control allowed him to let out a groan.

“I respected you like a lady but sluts don't deserve respect,” he said, his lips parted as he let out a heavy pant. You let out a whimper, your mind hazy as your cunt tries to get used to his length. “I.. am sorry,” you whine, how many times do you need to repeat? When will he be satisfied with your apology?

“Prove it,” he said with a smirk, “Prove that you deserve to be my wife and the First Lady of Panem.”

You follow Corios’ command. Your hands are on his shoulders to support yourself. Your fingers fist his shirt as you begin to ride him. Raising yourself a few inches before slamming down on his cock with a loud moan escaping your lips. He reached the deepest spot inside of you like this. His cockhead grazing your spongy spot as you fucking yourself on his cock. Your arousal and his pre-cum being smeared all over your thighs.

The sight made his breath hitch, something you didn't notice as you were too busy with your eyes closed and taking his cock like a good wife. You looked completely debauched like this, your hair wild, your lips red and swollen, your hands digging into his shoulder. Your nipples are hard and obvious through the white dress.

He wasn't supposed to lose control, this was happening for a reason. No matter how many deem him God or devil in the end he was a man. And no man is perfect. He pulled you closer to him. One of his hands is on your back, pressing you to him. Another of his hands in your hair, tugging the strands without a care about how rough he is being. It makes you moan, your head on his chest now. His hips raise upwards to fuck you as he now lets out more vocal sounds of enjoyment.

His pace was slower than yours. Each thrust of his was made for his indulgence in your velvet walls. The drag of his cock was perfect, his speed however was making you feel insane. You needed him, faster, harder. Used would be a much more correct term. You wanted to be used by your husband. And right now, you were but it wasn't enough.

You let out mewls and whines to make him break his languid pace but Corio gives you no mind. His fingers interlanged in your locks, his hand still pressing you in and his strength made it so you couldn't take control. He was drunk in the pleasure your pussy gave, his head resting on his headrest, his lips parted to let out a grunt with every thrust.

You weren't a person for him, not right now, a fleshlight perhaps. It didn't matter what you felt, it mattered what Snow felt. Snow felt amazing, he felt stupid for denying himself this for months on end. He would never make the same mistake again.

Time passes and you don't know how long Corio has you like this, your nerves raw as your pussy impossibly sensitive. Tears were falling from your eyes and staining his shirt but moans slipped your lips every time he pushed in again.

“Corio, please,” you try to plead, raising your head to look at him. “Please, please can't anymore.” He turns his head to you, his fingers that you seemed to have forgotten were in your hair tugging your strands roughly.

That was it. You gasp out as the pain becomes a trigger to make you cum on his cock, your pussy tightening around his cock like a vice as the orgasm washes over your body. It was intense and you had snapped. “Sorry! Sorry!” You begin to sob, “I won't ever look at a man that's not you! Sn- Corio please!”

His languid thrust had sped up, his arms caging you to his chest. The last thing you heard before he spilled his seed inside of you was, “Snow lands on top.”

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pucksandpower · 20 days

Text

Don’t Touch Her

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: Lando will do whatever it takes to ensure your safety after the unthinkable almost happens during a night out

Warnings: spiked drink, attempted SA, descriptions of seizure, hospitalization, and the implied murder of a minor character

You sway your hips to the pulsing beat, the colorful lights of the club flashing across your skin. Lando’s hands rest lightly on your waist, guiding you to the music. You lean into him, inhaling the faint scent of his cologne mixed with the tang of sweat in the humid air.

“I’m parched,” you say, turning to face him. “Want me to grab you a drink?”

He smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I can get them, love. You keep dancing.”

You shake your head, leaning in to give him a quick peck on the lips. “I need to get off my feet for a bit anyway. Same as usual?”

“Please. I’ll be right here waiting for you.”

You make your way through the crowded dance floor, weaving around gyrating bodies and flailing limbs. The bar is packed, patrons jostling for the bartenders’ attention. You manage to wedge yourself into a tiny gap, shouting your order over the commotion.

While waiting for the drinks, you check your phone. A few missed texts from friends, asking where you are. You fire back quick responses before pocketing the device just as the bartender slides two glasses toward you.

Vodka cranberry for you, rum and coke for Lando. You pass over a few bills, waving away the change, and turn to head back to the dance floor.

You take a long sip of your drink as you walk, the bubbly sweetness refreshing after all that dancing.

Lando is easy to spot, standing out due to the size of the crowd surrounding him. He smiles when he sees you coming, his whole face lighting up. Your heart flutters at the way he looks at you, like you’re the only person in the room.

You’re halfway to him when the first wave of dizziness hits. You stumble, drinks sloshing over your hands. Sudden nausea swirls in your gut. The room starts to spin, lights blurring into a kaleidoscope.

“Hey ...” You blink hard, trying to clear the fog creeping over your thoughts. “I don’t … feel so good.”

The glasses slide from your grip, shattering on the floor. You try to take a step toward Lando and the ground rushes up to meet you. Strong hands grab your arms, keeping you from collapsing completely.

“Whoa there, looks like someone started the party a little early.” The voice is unfamiliar, masculine with a hint of mocking laughter. You try to pull away but your limbs feel like lead.

“No, I ...” You shake your head, which only makes the dizziness worse. Through your dimming vision you can see Lando pushing through the crowd, his eyes wide.

“C’mon, there’s a back door this way. Let’s get you some air.” The man starts to guide you away, arms wrapped around your shoulders. Panic shoots through you and you try again to wrench yourself free, but it’s useless.

The cold night air hits you as the door swings open. The alley swims before you, dingy bricks and overflowing dumpsters. The man keeps walking, bearing you along while your weak protests fall on deaf ears.

Fear claws at your insides. You catch a glimpse of streetlights at the other end of the alley before he steers you into the shadows halfway down.

“S-stop,” you mumble, tongue heavy in your mouth. He just chuckles, pressing you against the brick wall.

“Shh, just relax. I’ll take good care of you.” His hand squeezes your thigh, rucking up your dress. Somewhere in the recesses of your fading mind, terror shrieks at you to fight, to run, but your traitorous body refuses to respond.

As the man leans in, the alley floods with light. Heavy footsteps pound on the pavement.

“Get your hands off her!” Lando’s voice booms with more fury than you’ve ever heard from him. The man holding you whirls around just as Lando’s fist connects with his jaw. He reels back with a cry, grip loosening. Lando catches you before you can slide to the ground.

“Hey, hey, I’ve got you.” His touch is infinitely gentle compared to the bruising hold of the stranger. He strokes your hair back from your face, eyes searching yours. “Can you hear me, love?”

You try to respond but only manage a faint whimper. Lando swears under his breath. Scooping you into his arms, he carries you swiftly from the alley. You press your face to his chest, clinging to him like a lifeline as he strides toward the street. Each jostling step sends the world spinning again.

Something is wrong. Terribly wrong.

Lando lowers you onto a bench outside the club, brushing his knuckles over your cheek. “Talk to me, please. What’s happening?”

You lick your dry lips, forcing words out with monumental effort. “Dizzy … everything … blurry ...”

Lando’s face creases with worry. He pulls out his phone to dial for help, but pauses when you suddenly convulse, muscles seizing. Your back arches, head slamming against the hard bench.

“Shit! Hold on, I’ve got you.” Lando slides his hand under your head, cradling it gently as the seizure wracks your body. Tears stream down his face as he murmurs soothing words, helpless to do anything but wait it out.

After endless moments, the convulsions stop. You go limp, gasping raggedly. The world fades in and out of focus, Lando’s anguished face floating above you.

“Please, baby, stay with me,” he begs, taking your hand and bringing it to his lips. “The ambulance will be here any second.”

You try to respond but darkness crowds the edges of your vision. The last thing you see before slipping into unconsciousness is Lando bent over you, shoulders shaking with sobs as he clutches your motionless hand.

***

Beeping.

Hushed voices.

The astringent scent of disinfectant.

You drift somewhere between waking and oblivion, grasping at fractured memories.

Lando’s face, streaked with tears.

Dancing bodies.

Pulsing lights.

The weight of unwanted hands, dragging you into the shadows.

With a sharp inhale, your eyes fly open. You’re in a hospital room, IV line taped to the back of your hand. Pale morning light filters through the blinds. The beeping comes from a monitor tracking your heartbeat.

“Hey.” Lando sits in a chair beside the bed, leaning forward when he sees you’re awake. His eyes are rimmed with red, hair disheveled. “How are you feeling?”

You try to speak but your throat is painfully dry. Lando grabs a cup of water, angling the straw so you can sip. The cool liquid soothes like a balm, washing away the cottony feeling in your mouth.

“What … what happened?” You rasp out finally.

Lando’s expression turns grim. “Someone drugged you at the club. Probably targeting an easy robbery, but ...” His jaw clenches, hands balling into fists. “If I had been even a few seconds later, he would have ...”

Unable to finish the thought, Lando buries his face in his hands. His shoulders tremble. Your heart aches, and you reach out to comb gentle fingers through his hair.

“But you weren’t,” you say softly. “You saved me.”

He looks up, eyes shining wetly. “I never should have let you out of my sight. If I lost you ...” His breath hitches, raw anguish written across his face.

“Hey, no.” You catch his hand, squeezing firmly. “This wasn’t your fault. You found me in time. That’s all that matters.”

Fresh tears spill down Lando’s cheeks. He brings your entwined hands to his lips, pressing a trembling kiss to your knuckles.

“I was so scared,” he chokes out. “Seeing you like that, helpless, shaking ...” He clenches his jaw, looking away. “And not being able to do anything. Just having to watch ...”

He breaks off with a shuddering breath. You tug gently on his hand, urging him up from the chair. He perches on the edge of the bed, enveloping you in his tender arms. You cling to each other, tears mingling as the enormity of what almost happened sinks in.

After long moments, Lando pulls back to cup your face in both hands. He searches your eyes, still flooded with relief and lingering fear.

“I could have lost you,” he repeats in a shattered whisper.

You cover his hands with your own. “But you didn’t. I’m right here. With you.”

His breath leaves him a rush, the frightened tension easing from his frame. Leaning in, he rests his forehead against yours. The beeping monitor and distant hospital noises fade away, leaving just the two of you suspended in this quiet intimacy.

When Lando finally lifts his head, the fire in his eyes makes your heart stutter.

“I love you,” he says, low and fervent.

You meet Lando’s intense gaze, equally overcome by emotion.

“I love you too,” you breathe.

He cradles your face again, thumbs sweeping feather-light over your cheeks. Slowly, he leans in and presses his lips to yours in a kiss that steals your breath. It’s soft yet saturates you with his passion, fear, relief — every shade of the feelings coursing between you in this moment. You sink into it, hands coming up to twist in his rumpled shirt, keeping him close.

When he pulls back, you’re both a little breathless. Lando smooths your hair, regret pinching his features.

“I should let you rest. The doctor said you’ll probably feel weak and foggy for a few days.”

You give a small shrug. “I don’t feel that bad right now. Just … stay with me?”

He smiles softly. “Of course, love.”

Settling next to you on top of the sheets, he loops an arm around your shoulders. You nestle against him, comforted by his familiar warmth and scent. For a long moment, you simply savor being wrapped in this bubble of solace.

“Do they know who did it yet?” You finally ask, unable to quell your lingering unease about the attack.

Lando shakes his head. “The police looked at security footage but the guy’s face wasn’t visible. They’re still investigating.”

You nod, chewing your lip. Lando tilts your chin up to meet his eyes.

“I won’t let him get away with this,” he says, quiet but fierce. “I’ll do whatever it takes to find him and make sure he never hurts anyone again.”

There’s cold fury underlying his tone that you’ve never heard from him before. It reminds you viscerally of that brief glimpse in the alley — Lando transformed in the heat of protective rage.

But now the fire in his eyes is fanned and smoldering. A determination that won’t relent.

He tightens his arm around you, pressing his lips to your hair. You settle against his chest again, comforted by the steady thump of his heartbeat.

***

A few days later, you’re curled up on the couch with Lando, a movie playing quietly in the background. You’re mostly zoning out, still feeling residual exhaustion. Lando plays idly with your hair, a comforting sensation.

When your phone buzzes with an alert, you grab it lazily, expecting a text from a friend. Instead, a news headline makes you bolt upright.

Lando notices your change in demeanor.

“What is it, love?”

“That man, the one from the club … he was found dead. I would recognize his face anywhere.”

You continue to scan the article. “Doesn’t specify much, just that he was found in an abandoned building across town. Ruled a homicide but no suspects or motive yet.”

You wordlessly tilt the phone screen for him to see. He looks at it blankly, face impassive.

“Oh. Well, perhaps some justice has been served after all.”

You narrow your eyes at his mild tone. “Did you ...”

“Did I what?”

“Have something to do with this?”

Lando presses a hand to his chest, feigning offense. “Me? Now why would you think that?”

“Lando.” You level him with a knowing look. “Did you?”

He meets your gaze steadily for a moment before sighing. “I told you I’d make sure he never hurt anyone again. A man like that doesn’t deserve to keep stealing breaths.”

You absorb this, unsure how to feel. “So you ...”

“I didn’t personally do anything,” Lando hedges. “But I have … connections. People who know people who can handle things quietly.”

You bite your lip. “You had him killed.”

Lando takes your hands in his. “Hey. Look at me. That bastard drugged you, dragged you into an alley. He would have ...” His jaw flexes. “I did what needed to be done to keep you and others safe.”

“I just ...” You wrestle with your conflicted emotions. “I don’t know how I feel about you essentially ordering a hit.”

He drags a hand over his mouth. When he speaks, his voice is low and controlled. “All that matters is he can’t hurt you or anyone else now. Try to remember what he did to you — how you felt. Helpless. Frightened. I wasn’t about to let him continue terrorizing women.”

You take a shaky breath. “No, you’re right. It’s just a lot to wrap my head around.”

Lando caresses your cheek. “You have the biggest, kindest heart of anyone I know. But some people are simply too dangerous to be allowed to go on hurting people. I don’t take this lightly, but there are times when permanent solutions are necessary. Do you understand?”

Up close, you can see the storm of emotions he’s battling to contain. Anger, satisfaction, hints of doubt and guilt. You cup his face.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “For protecting me, even if it meant ...”

Lando closes his eyes, leaning into your touch. “I would do anything for you. Anything to keep you safe.” His thumb strokes along your jaw. “You never have to worry. You’ll always be safe with me. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect you, no matter what.”

His voice rings with quiet conviction. You cover his hand with your own, meeting his solemn gaze. In this moment, you truly comprehend the depths he’s willing to go for you.

“I know you will,” you whisper. “Thank you. For everything you’ve done for me.”

Lando searches your face, shoulders losing their rigid tension when he finds only acceptance and gratitude shining back at him.

“I would be lost without you,” he murmurs.

You lean in, kissing him softly. “You’ll never have to find out.”

Drawing back, you offer a tiny smirk. “And clearly, I should never get on your bad side.”

Lando huffs a surprised laugh. The lingering shadows in his eyes fade as he pulls you close. You sink into his embrace, heartbeat steadying against his.

Whatever lengths Lando went to in order to protect you, to remove the threat hanging over your regained sense of safety, you know you’ll forever be thankful for this devoted, fierce, and tender-hearted man you love.

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yanderestarangel · 8 months

Text

☆ 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝!𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎'𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐁 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ☆

TW: Pure smut, NSFW, unprotected sex, rough sex, Daddykink, AFAB anatomy, vaginal sex, creampie, overstimulation, established relationship, a little fluff, Husband! Miguel O'Hara, description of Miguel's dick.

This man as a husband is a complete package, he loves you, is extremely faithful and does everything to see you happy. Miguel is the kind of husband who shows you for the whole world to see, how beautiful you are, how perfect your body is in the clothes he buys you (and there are many, believe me).

Miguel is the type of husband that if someone flirts with him, he will smile and try to be polite, he only has eyes for you and will never exchange a lifetime of pleasure, happiness and love for a passing adventure in bed, he is yes a sex-crazed animal but that only applies with you his libido is all for you, you turn him on but if it's someone else he'll refuse and come back into your arms.

"-Sorry Honey, I have a husband/wife, I'm a married man" -Miguel would say proudly while showing the thin wedding ring made of expensive material to the woman who flirted with him in the market line, while he did some shopping for you two .

Will wake you up with coffee in bed whenever he can, prepare to wake up to the sound of "Romeo Santos - Eres Mía" is Miguel's favorite song, as he sang happily and brought you your favorite food on a tray with a flower red on the side, then popping it into his mouth like a cheap heartthrob, making you laugh, he loves to hear you laugh, he loves to hear you laugh, he loves you.

♡ Miguel O'Hara is a Horny Husband!!! ♡

He will fuck you in every room in the house possible, over the kitchen counter, in the bathroom, on the living room floor, in the backyard, even on the ceiling if he can...and he can! after all this mf has super strength, prepare to get dizzy as he fucks you in angles and positions you didn't even know existed.

Miguel O'Hara is big... I mean Miguel's cock is 22 centimeters and very thick, with swollen side veins that pulsate and pump, you can see the glow coming off the darker tanned sensitive skin of his cock, with the tip of the member being a darker red matching the rest, as O'Hara's dick is darker than the rest of his body, and extremely beautiful a little crooked to the left, but little else, he uses this to give you more pleasure exploring with the hips.

He loves to see you submissive, he is the type who likes to dominate you with all the anger, passion, love and horny, every drop of his being loves to see you vulnerable and totally naked under his muscular body, he will feel a predator and you are the prey.

"-Look at you, mi amor, crying and trembling... So beautiful mi carinõ... And all mine, this pussy belongs to me..." -Miguel growled, his voice dripping desire and hunger, while looking at you from above below, with you totally sweaty and whimpering from the third denied orgasm that night, every time you came close to coming, O'Hara simply took his fingers out of your pussy and sneered, flashing your beautiful and dangerous fangs at you.

"-Do you really want to come? Beg me, beg me to fuck you, beg me to have your husband's dick inside that nice tight pussy of yours, come on (Y/N) beg, beg me like the good slut you are."

After you whimper and beg, he will finally give in, thrusting his thick, pulsing shaft into you, moving with difficulty because your cock is too thick and you are too tight.

"-Mm, that's it, baby..."- Miguel spoke hoarsely and moaning softly, biting his lip, finally inside you while waiting for your pussy to adjust and take all of his cock.

"-Take daddy's cock deeply, feel every inch of me, you're doing so well (Y/N), such a good little whore for your Husband."

"-Say my name (Y/N)" -Miguel demanded, his voice authoritative and rough, as he slammed into you hard, his hips moving back and forth into your sensitive pussy as he used two fingers to massage your clit hard, making you cry out and squirm with the pleasurable and painful union of Miguel's fingers and cock.

"-Let everyone, the whole neighborhood know who's fucking you mercilessly, Shout out to me, who do you belong to? Shout out (Y/N), shout out to me...Fuck (Y/N)..." -Miguel groaned loud and serious, while he accelerated his hips again on you, leaving a trail of fluids from both of you, in his abdomen, member and groin.

"-You're driving Papi crazy... Hearing you talk like that, feeling your tight pussy squeezing me... it's too much, I'm not going to take much mi amor, you're going to make me come inside you and I'm going to fill your uterus all... until you're totally done with me."

"-Get ready (Y/N), I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't be able to breathe, let alone scream."

"-You're my fucking toy, mi muñeco/muñeca, I own every inch of your pussy, and I'll use it as I please."

"-You love it when I fuck you, don't you? You're a dirty slut (Y/N), Begging for more, craving my cock, You're insatiable, you like to satisfy your Husband? Hm? Tell me mi amor, me tell me you love having my thick cock jammed in your tight, needy pussy."

"-Fuck Mami/Papi... I'm close" -Miguel grumbled as he lifted one of your thighs, looking at your pussy glistening with juices, wet because of him as he thrust with all the strength he could at that moment, the rhythm increasingly erratic for the pleasure he was feeling with your vigorous grip.

"-Are you ready to take my cum (Y/N) Show me how much of a filthy little slut you really are." -Miguel speaks practically shouting, while he gives a last strong thrust, echoing the sound of his skins through the room and coming inside you with a wild and pleasurable growl.

He would fall on his side tired, but still erect and horny, Miguel's tanned body glistened with sweat while the brown hair fell on the spider man's forehead, glued to the skin by fatigue. If you ask him to ride him, he'll freak out and immediately agree, whether he's tired or not, ride this man soon, he needs another round.

"-Of course, baby... You can ride Papi's cock all you want. I want to feel your tight pussy slide down me, taking me deep inside." "-Stay on top of the thick cock daddy, let me see you get down on my cock, let me feel every inch of you."

"-Ride me, baby, yes fuck, that feels so good..." -Miguel spoke between moans, feeling your pussy on top of him, riding hard as you looked him deep in the eyes, watching your husband's face contort with pleasure As O'Hara threw your head back, squeezing your hips tightly as you moaned needfully, you could feel his cock pulsing with every squeeze of your pussy.

"-Take everything I have to give you. You feel so good on my cock, little one."

"-Fuck (Y/N), You're taking my cock so well, my obedient little slut. You're mine to use, to fuck, to pleasure, feel me dominating your tight little pussy, claiming it as mine."

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steddiewithachance · 1 year

Text

"You Should Date My Nephew"

"433-6296". Wayne mouthes to himself. He visualizes the little slip of lined paper that's taped to the wall above their phone at home. 433-6296. He could call. But he wont.

Wayne grunts as he lowers himself to sit on the curb outside the plant. He got off work --he pushes up the sleeve of his jacket to check his watch-- 36 minutes ago. It's 3:36 am and god dammit Eddie how many times did he remind the kid to set his alarm. How many times did Wayne remind Eddie that his truck was in the shop and that he'd need a ride home in the morning. And every single time he'd mention it, Eddie responded "I got it old man! I'll set an alarm" with an exasperated eye roll and would go back to whatever he was doing. Wayne has tried calling the trailer a dozen times already and damn that boy for being such a heavy sleeper.

433-6296. Wayne could probably solve his problem with a single call, but that would be completely inconsiderate and borderline inappropriate, so he wont. A gust of cold November wind hits Wayne unforgivingly in the face and makes his eyes water. He pulls a pack of camels from his chest pocket and with stiff, shaky hands, lights one. 433-6296. He could call or he could walk home. The walk wasn't easy in ideal weather when Wayne was fully rested. Right now it was freezing, Wayne didn't have his good jacket, and he just finished an eight hour shift. 433-6296. Fuck it.

Wayne stands up and hurries toward the phone before he can talk himself out of this. It's insane, and he knows the poor kid barely sleeps as it is. Knows from Eddie that he'll pick up the phone anytime Eddie has a nightmare and drive over to talk him out of the bad dream, keep him company, or fall asleep on the floor of Eddie's bedroom so his nephew doesn't have to go back to sleep alone in a haunted home. 433-6296 Wayne dials and waits with baited breath.

The phone rings a handful of times before a quiet voice greets him on the other side of the line.

"H'llo? Eds?"

"Uh hi Steve. It's Wayne?" Wayne says quietly into the phone. Steve seems to sober immediately.

"Mr. Munson? Is everything okay? Is Eddie okay?"

"Yeah no everythin's fine. I'm sure Eddie's safe and sound at home. Look, I'm real sorry to wake you, kid, and I'm sorry to even be askin' you in the first place. I know it's mighty unfair of me to call at this time but uh- My trucks in the shop and Eddie was supposed to pick me up from work forty minutes ago but I think he mighta slept through his alarm. And it's too far for an old man like me to walk. Was wondering if I might owe you a helluva favor if you could pick me up tonight, son." For a few moments there is silence. Wayne worries he has crossed a line, for a brief moment he fears he might have burnt the most important bridge in Eddie's life. He's immediately regretting waking Steve up for this.

But then he hears the distinct rustling and thump of someone putting on shoes.

"Of course Mr. Munson, I'm leaving now. I'll be there as soon as I can." And Wayne is once again floored by this kid's kindness.

"Steve, thank you. I owe you son. Whatever you need."

"It's no problem! I'll see you soon."

"See you." Wayne mutters in disbelief and hangs up the phone.

And to think... Wayne used to hate Steve. The thing about Steve Harrington is that his name is haunted, in a way. And the thing about Wayne Munson is that he's a stubborn son of a bitch who will hold grudges on Eddie's behalf longer than the kid himself will. There were countless days in high school when instead of shooting through the front door of the trailer after school with a devilish grin and music blasting from his headphones, Eddie would turn the knob slowly and he'd drag himself into the house, giving Wayne a small nod before disappearing into his room quietly. Wayne felt like crying or punching something when Eddie came home in low spirits. He knew how evil the kids at school could be, and he knew the names of all the bad ones. Wayne always gave Eddie 10 minutes of quiet before he'd knock on his door and gently ask if he wanted to talk. It was a routine they had. He'd ask and Eddie would say no. But then like clockwork, Eddie would open up about his day later in the evening usually while they ate dinner and before Wayne left for work. He'd complain about all the kids that made him feel bad: Hagan, Harrington, Perkins, Hargrove, Carver, and so many more.

So imagine Wayne's surprise on March 27, 1986 when he briefly left Eddie's hospital room to get coffee and returned to Steve Harrington, the bully son of Richard and Nicole, sitting next to his nephew's hospital bed. It had been a long week of worrying on Wayne's part, and an emotional 48 hours spent at Eddie's bedside, so Wayne had very little patience for whatever was happening in front of him. In retrospect, Steve Harrington was looking at Eddie... sweet and tenderly, even back then. But in the moment all he could think about was Eddie returning from school with hunched shoulders and his head hung low.

"The hell are you doing here?" Wayne asked using his gruffest and most intimidating voice, arms crossed, standing in the doorway. The way that Steve startled was like nothing like Wayne had ever seen. He jumped a foot into the air and folded into himself.

"Oh! Mr. Munson. I'm sorry I didn't know you were around. Just, uh, didn't want him to be alone in case he woke up." Steve had said rising from his seat. When Wayne didn't budge from the doorway or respond, Steve nervously fiddled with the zipper of his jacket.

"How do you know Eddie?" Wayne asked trying to keep his firm tone.

"From high school sir. But also through a mutual friend. Dustin Henderson? They play DND together. Dustin and I brought him in after we found him like this..." Steve lifted his head again gauging Wayne's still stern expression and sighed. "Look, I'm sorry sir I didn't mean to interrupt anything I'll get out of your hair."

And Wayne wanted to be skeptical of Steve, wanted to accuse him of doing this to Eddie, but the truth is that Steve sounded painfully earnest. And there's no human explanation for the tiny bite marks all over Eddie's body. Wayne stepped out of the doorway and let Steve take a few steps down the hallway before calling out to him.

"Hey, Harrington?" Steve turned around quickly, looking back with a startled expression, maybe surprised that Wayne knew his name at all. "D'ja see what happened? I mean d'ya know anythin about what hurt him?" Wayne asked more softly. Steve looked around the crowded hallway, with nurses buzzing from door to door. Steve shook his head slightly, apologized, and continued down the hallway.

But Steve didn't stay out of his hair for long. The kid was exasperatingly persistent in being around for Eddie. And while Wayne kept a watchful eye on him, he was starting to get the idea that Steve Harrington was not who Wayne thought he was. He cooked for, cleaned after, and tended to Eddie, asking for nothing in return. Often refusing to stay for dinner when Wayne was home, even if he was the one who cooked it, because he didn't want to interrupt family time. If he brought food from out he always brought something for Wayne, and never took the money Wayne tried to push into his hands for it.

"Here, Mr. Munson. I wasn't sure what you wanted from the diner, but Eddie said you're not picky so I brought you a burger and fries." Steve had said that first time, holding out a bag in front of him.

"You brought me food?" Wayne asked perplexed.

"Well yeah, of course. I wouldn't have shown up with dinner for just me and Eddie." Steve set Wayne's bag on the counter when he made no move to take it.

By now Steve knew Wayne and Eddie's order at pretty much every food place in Hawkins and Wayne and Eddie were getting real creative at finding ways to slip money into Steve's wallet.

On top of that, almost every other day, Wayne gets home from work to find a maroon bmw parked outside his place while Steve helps Eddie through bad dreams. So what could Wayne be, besides grateful, for Steve Harrington's slightly confusing devotion to his kid?

He's snapped out of his thoughts when said maroon bmw pulls up in front of him. Steve is wearing a pair of wired glasses and his hair is all ruffled from sleep. Wayne opens the passenger door.

"You were waiting for forty minutes in the cold? Why didn't you call sooner?" Steve asked pushing up his glasses as Wayne closes the door quickly. And well... Wayne doesn't know how to respond to that.

"I- I shouldn'ta had to call you in the first place, Steve. I'm real sorry" Wayne says as Steve pulls the car out of park and starts driving back towards the trailer park. Wayne glances over at Steve waiting for the kid to say something. They sit in heavy silence until Steve breaks it by clearing his throat.

"Just... I know you're probably mad at Eddie but- but don't yell at him. He's barely sleeping so he really just needs the rest. It's not his fault." Steve ends on a whisper.

A tidal wave of different emotions rip through Wayne. Affection for Steve's caring nature, immense gratitude that Eddie has someone like Steve in his life, disbelief that Steve would say something like that after being woken at nearly 4 in the morning. Wayne was sitting and staring at the most selfless kid he'd ever met. Steve fucking Harrington.

"You should date my nephew."

Steves eyes widen and the car swerves.

"Uh- s-sorry- what?" Steve stammers.

"If I could choose someone for him, the best option out there, I'd choose you." Wayne says honestly, and he didn't even know he'd been thinking it until this moment. But it's so true. After so many heartbreaks over truly terrible men that Wayne could never see the appeal of, Eddie deserves someone like Steve. Steve face softens before checking to make sure Wayne was being sincere. Steve cracks a smile and chuckles to himself.

"What, you think I'm jokin'?" Wayne asks defensively.

"No sir! Not at all. It's just Eddie and I have been dating for months already. BUT- but- thank you for saying that! It means so much to me and truly Eddie's the best thing-"

"You- what?" Suddenly Wayne is embarrassed. Blushing. How'd he... how'd he miss that? And well, he did have a few moments where he thought the two of them were awfully close for a pair of young men, at least one of which who was openly queer, but they'd been through a lot together.

"Why did no one tell me?" Wayne asks turning his face away from Steve who is desperately fighting a huge grin and losing.

"We thought you knew. We sleep in the same bed every night."

"You do what now? Thought you were sleepin' on the floor" Wayne knows he sounds like the protective dad of a teenage girl and not the uncle to an adult man, but his world was just turned sideways. Steve laughs at that and adjusts his glasses before stopping at the red traffic light which almost immediately turns green because no one is out at this hour.

"Oh well. Good, I'm glad then." Wayne says after his mind has stopped spinning. "And call me Wayne already, you basically live at my house." He punches Steve lightly in the shoulder.

"Okay." Steve agrees quietly. He pulls into Forest Hills and stops the car in front of the Munson's place. "Mind if I just check to make sure he's okay before I leave? For peace of mind?" Wayne opens the door and steps out.

"Oh so now you're playing coy about sharing a bed? Just sleep here, kid" Wayne closes the door and heads towards the house. Steve jogs a little to catch up. When they open the door, the sound of an obnoxious alarm comes pouring out from the back of the house which concerns both of them. But when Steve hurries to Eddie's room he sees that the idiot had fallen asleep with music blasting in his headphones. Wayne stops the alarm as Steve gently tries to remove the headphones from his ears pausing the tape inside.

Eddie suddenly stirs and blinks up at Wayne and Steve looking down at him.

"'S going on?" He croaks, rubbing his eyes. Wayne and Steve share a look before Wayne chuckles and pats Steve on the back once before thanking him and wishing him a good night on the way out. After the door closes behind Wayne, Eddie looks back up at Steve. "What's going on baby? What happened?"

Steve slips into the bed and scoffs, fondly. He curls around Eddie and pulls him into his chest. Once they've settled, Steve pushes his fingers through Eddie's until they're all intertwined.

"Did you forget something, Bambi? Was there someone you had to pick up from work at 3 in the morning?" Steve whispers into his neck. Suddenly Eddie shoots up and dislodges Steve where he was leaning against him. Steve groans.

"Shit! Shit shit shit shit shit"

"Eddie it's okay c'mere. He's home now, it's all good babe." But Eddie just stares at the wall and pulls a hand through his hair. "No one is mad, just come back here. Let's sleep." And Eddie hesitantly lies back down.

"Did Uncle Wayne have to call you? I'm so fucking sorry Stevie." Eddie asks, sounding embarrassed.

"We had a nice conversation on the way home so it all worked out. You're okay. Sleeeeep."

And right before they both fall asleep, Eddie whispers, "Thanks Stevie, love you."

#steddie ficlet #steve harrington #steve x eddie #steddie #eddie munson #wayne munson #Wayne Munson POV #steve/eddie

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