purrrrrrr

26 yr old from NYC 💅

[dittography-direwolf]

Totally normal for a legitimate for-profit company to refuse to reclaim or stop running their products even after they're no longer being paid to do so. I'm sure it's very normal to just keep running your service for free when your contract's been terminated. Spending money to continue running cameras that supposedly no one is looking at is definitely not an indicator they are just run by the federal government to spy on everyone and only a wacko conspiracy theorist would think so.

[honeysucklewatr]

jason todd can never fuck you without seeing your face.

he works himself up just to lean himself all the way over, breaking his neck just to kiss you. ignoring how his bones ached in protest and his hips bucked.

at first you think he’s just being sweet, not letting you suck him off because he wants you closer, or making you lay on your back instead of your stomach. his eyes watching yours and trailing across your face as though it was all he needed.

even when you closed your eyes, basked in the feeling of him and tried to get used to the stretch. jason didn’t even need words when they failed you, instead he read your face. felt how you tensed and your hands grabbed at his back. he cooed a response out of you.

“that feel good ma?” rasping with difficulty as you gasped softly. then you nodded and he cupped your cheek, voice soft as feathers as he spoke to you. “can you tell me how it feels?”

a shudder runs through you as he shifts his hips just barely. “good. it feels really, really good.”

then he smiles and rolls onto his back, pulling you into his lap as he did it. you sink back onto him so easily this time, sighing in unison as he seated himself fully inside. his hands fell to your ass, taking cupfuls as you fluttered your lashes at him when he began moving you. slowly at first but quickly his movements grew more frantic as the sounds rumbled from his chest and echoed through your skin, penetrating your thoughts in the same way he did your body.

jason loves to watch you lost yourself in it, seeing the hunger grow from your shyness and fucks you til you’re begging him for more. because you are as insatiable as he is and even more is never enough.

after he coaxes you through an orgasm and stares through half lidded eyes, you try changing the position yourself. though you fail, collapsing onto his chest and begging for more with that hoarse tone in your voice that told him you were exhausted.

jason could never deny his sweet girlfriend from his touch could he?

pulling off his lap, he moved to situate himself over you once again. pulling out just for a moment while you flop onto your stomach, sighing into the pillow dreamily. he blinks as he hovers over you, hand grazing your side as he says your name. swallowing thickly as the sight of you arching for him, stomach flat on the mattress as you pulled your arms under the pillow, burying your face into it and got more comfortable.

jason breathes heavier as he rasps. “i wanna see your face too princess, come on.”

though you only hum and murmur something that sounded like ‘mm too tired’. jason snakes his arm under your chest and pulls you up by your throat, not enough to hurt, but just enough to coax. your hand slides behind you, guiding his throbbing length through your puffy folds before sinking back onto him. sucking him in and moaning as you arch your back further. jason nearly chokes on his spit and pulls your face towards him, craning his neck just to kiss you even as you start to fold in on yourself when he picks up the pace.

the sound of his skin on yours is obscene, the pace he keeps is relentless. his eyes watch your shut ones as pushed you into another orgasm and reach your peak with a whimper. jason swallows the sweet sound from between your lips and lets your hands weakly tug at his hair at the crown of his neck more harshly than you’d intended.

the pain doesn’t bother him then. if anything, the sting reminds him you’re still there.

when you’re limp against him, shuddering from the feeling, he lets you gently onto the sheets. jason manhandles you onto your back again, fucking you right as you’re blissed out on him, humming with his name on your tender lips from how hard he’d been kissing you from behind. he’s rougher with you now that he can see your face fully again. that was exactly what he needed to tip over the edge. he moans your name out broken, dark hair sticking to his forehead as his perfect heterochromic eyes bore into your glazed ones.

“you’re so perfect ma,” he whimpers gorgeously. “god, you’re so beautiful.”

though the fucked out grin you gave him made him sputter and groan. hips stuttering as he gave powerful thrusts into you and let go, painting your walls a milky white you could practically taste. even then his eyes are open, arms braced by your head so he didn’t crush you with his weight and also to continue to see your face as your mouth gaped open in a silent moan. tongue touching the tip of your top teeth before you giggled at him weakly. grazing your fingernails up his back as he shudders again and continues to thrust into you like he couldn’t resist, not when he’s got you under him like this.

you have to pull him to lay all the way down so he is laying over you, his weight like a heavy blanket that could lull you to sleep. dick so good it sends you into full rem quickly.

though when you wake up in the morning, jason’s laying on his side, his hand draped over your waist as your leg hung over his. and his eyes were set right on yours, lips ready to say your name like it had taken permanent residence on his tongue.

not proofread! im fighting demons so mb for not updating regularly lmao :p

[whimsyunicornxd]

cw. mature content

Simon doesn't necessarily care where he fucks you, he's quite lenient with it actually. like the time he took you across his captain's desk while everyone else was in the dinning hall. You just wanted to deliver your husband the lunch you had freshly prepared, all of his favourites, at his base yet the bastard couldn't help but feel like a horny teenager, pulling you in the first room he saw, that just so happened to be his captain's office.

Just seeing you in that pretty sundress had his dick hardening under his slacks, he just couldn't resist his pretty dovie and he couldn't care less about where he's pinning you. His gloved hand hurriedly pulling up his balaclava as he pressed his mouth to yours, his lips rough and chapped due to the lack of moisture on them. Simon's mouth moved hungrily against yours, his thick tongue pushing into your mouth as his hands already groped your ass.

He picked you up with his hands firmly under your ass while your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, you bit his lower lip, letting out a soft giggle as you licked his lips to moisturize them, "Your lips are so dry." "'cause I haven' kissed ya enough, c'mere lovie" he mumbled before chasing the feel of your lips as he puts you down on the cap's desk.

Simon immediately spread your legs before he pressed his hips right against your clothed cunt, his bulge prominent in his pants as he grinded without a care that he was practically humping his wife in his captain's office while people were present. His large hand cover the span of your waist as he pushed his thick tongue through your parted lips, "fuck luv, ya look bloody gorgeous!" He murmured before swallowing your tongue whole as he ate your mouth desperately.

The balaclava sat uncomfortably tight on his broken nose but he didn't mind, getting lost in the way your mouth felt against his. His large hand hurriedly pushed up the hem of your dress, bunching it at your waist as he dipped his hand underneath the tiny fabric you called underwear. The thrill of simon touching you in such a public place had your pussy gushing and soaking the lacy pair, a dark spot spreading as simon's eyes dipped and the side of his mouth turned into a cunning smirk, "look at ya, fuckin' soaked through the pair. Does this excite ya tha' much, huh?"

The way he condescendingly spoke had your thighs pushing together with his hand, "shut up, you're the one who's acting like a horny teen–!" Your words get abruptly cut as simon glides his thick fingers, the middle and ring, through your dewy folds, stuffing them right into your pussy as you gasped. "F-fuck!" He smirked and without another thought he started to thrust his hand as humanely as it could go, the hand on your thighs travelled up and pulled your hips free of those panties, throwing them somewhere across the room.

Your mouth lets out a shriek at the sudden explosion of pleasure spreading through your cunt up to your stomach, you bit your lip, slapping a hand over your mouth as you let out a muffled scream, your eyes sharply stared at the locked door, just outside of it, soldiers walked cluelessly at the forbidden act happening behind the door. Simon's smirk just widened as his pace didn't waver despite your attempt to close your legs, his free hand gripping your thigh wide open as he fingered you, "Keep 'em open doll." The tips of his nails scratched and poked at the sweet spot inside of your gooey, clammy walls made your eyes roll back in your head.

You felt the coil in your stomach tighten as you bit your lip tightly, trying to not let any lewd sounds out in your husband's captain's office, your other hand gripped onto his shoulder, digging into the skin through the tshirt as your cunt clenched around his fingers, "There ya go luvie, cum on ma fingers." His fingers moved faster than ever as your toes curled in your shoes, your head thrown back as you came with a cry, "Simon!"

You panted, gripping onto his shoulder while the other hand gripped the edge of the table as your pussy pulsed like a heartbeat, suddenly feeling empty as he removed his fingers. And without wasting another second, simon worked open his belt, his thick cock slapping his thigh because of how heavy it was even when hard. His tip was flushed red and already leaking precum as he gripped his base and slammed it deep in your cunt making you let out a shriek!

He let out a hiss at the tight warmth of your cunt, slapping a hand over your mouth, "Bloody hell baby, don' be so loud, can't have anybody knowing I'm fuckin' ya." Tears swelled in your eyes as he rammed his hips into your cushy cunt, your arousal leaked down your cunt to your table and down your ass. You tried, really did, biting your lip to quiet down your cunt along with his hand covering your mouth but you had just came, your body still thrumming from the pleasure as he fucked you hard.

Simon let out a short laugh, watching as you struggled to keep quiet, your thighs trying to close as you shook your head desperately, "Shh shh hun, ya can take it. Be good f'me." He grunted, slamming his hips into your cunt. You could feel every throbbing vein and every thick ridge of his cock shaping your walls, all due to the overstimulation and thrill. Simon's hand sneaked down and coaxed your swollen clit out of it's hood, letting out a smirk as you immediately clenched impossibly tight around him.

With his ministrations on your poor clit and your poor swollen pussy, it wasn't long when you reached your peak only this time it was something more as you squirted all over him, "There ya go doll, there ya go!" He let out a amused laugh, not stopping as you sprayed all over his stomach and jeans, dripping down to the table and floor as he chased his own orgasm before cumming deep in you, "Good girl baby."

It was late in the evening when Price finally entered his office, too busy in the meeting with laswell when he stopped at the door. He took one look around the office, it looked like how he had left it but he could feel something in the air, something sweet when his eyes spotted the pink lacy pair of spoilt panties neatly kept on the middle of his very sticky desk with a note "Apologies for using your office sir." He immediately recognised simon's neat yet gruff handwriting, crumbling the note as his calloused fingers brushed on the still wet spot on the panties—his L.T's wife. John smirked, rubbing the fabric, "Dirty Bastard."

[miniaturepenguinkryptonite]

STOP STEALING PEOPLE'S WORK 😤

[berrie-ghostie]

Requested 10/07/2026

Simon Riley who refuses to give you any space at all when you come off of missions, desperate to see that you're not harmed and can keep going. He knows it's not appropriate to do so whilst you're in the helicopter after camping out for an extraction, so he always bides his time listening to whatever spiel Soap is on, leg bouncing impatiently up and down whilst he waits to land. All he wants to do is to take you to medical for your immediate clear. He does this because it eases his own heart and mind, the panic that settles in when something could be wrong, everyone knows that he does this because he cares about you, one day when he has the cohrage he'd like your dogtag to be engraved with Riley on it rather than your maiden name that's currently occupying the slot. He spends hours laid on the bed in his barracks with you, just burning your face, your smile, the scent of your definitely not regulation soap into his memories. He doesn't want to lose you too. He can't lose you, not until you're retired and it's old age that gets to you both. You spend hours tangled together on and off base, just basking in the company of each other. Neither of you fond of using words, afraid they'd ruin the temporary serenity of your nights. He thinks you're drop dead gorgeous all the time, but nights where you're not on edge and you're content with eating a shitty store bought pizza and napping with him, you've never looked prettier.

Simon knows you're strong, he understands and knows you can do what he does whilst simultaneously in heels and on your period. He never makes you feel less than him, always bragging about the things you do on missions.

There's been too many times where he's scolded you for close calls, like that time you accidentally left the safety on your pistol and tried to shoot someone, allowing them the time and space to get a harsh kick to your stomach and knee. He watched you beat the man to death with your fists for winding you, but it should've never happened in the first place. There was another time where the communications got jammed between you and base and leavingyou stranded, badly out of position, coming under fire for a full 20 minutes, you were incredibly lucky that the three bullets that hit you only scraped your thigh. He delicstrly traces the scars left there as a reminder that you're capable enough to deal with these things, that your training and sheer determination to live pulls you through, but also to remind himself that you're only human. You live and breathe the same oxygen as him and if he wants you to be his 'blushing bride' he'd need to be ready to catch you if you fell.

So when a mission goes sideways and he's left exhausted carrying your seemingly lifeless body aside from your breathing and your pulse into one of the extraction helicopters himself, hands gripping your skin uncharacteristically in a harsher way as if to beg you to stay here on the mortal plane with him. He's angry, fuming even, that you would push yourself past the breaking point on a mission. He knows their target would've escaped if you hadn't done what you did, but you were told to fall back, told to leave it and months of work from multiple teams spent tracing this man's loaction only for the mission to be a bust. If he knew what you were going to do he'd have pulled you away himself.

He thinks you're reckless and stupid. You took an amazing shot, he'll commend you for that, 100 metres down range and you got enough of a shot to render the target still valuable, currently being questioned in an undisclosed location. Yet, that shot cost him you, when the shot was fired your location unknowingly got revealed. When you hit the shot you turned to him with a smile, only for a bomb to drop and your body to end up mangled and crushed beneath the weight of rubble. The scream that leaves his body being the last thing you hear as the rubble covers you. He desperately clawed at the bricks and dirt, his attempt at dragging you out of the mess he let you create, covering him in the settling dust from the concrete.

When Simon is finally able to rip your body out from underneath it, he feels the whole weight of the situation finally on his shoulders. You're not conscious, which he supposes is a lot better than if he pulled you out and you were dead. He instantly your pulse, two fingers checking your neck and wrist to be sure. he's relieved when he finds that you're still alive and breathing, for now. He grios you tighter to himself, knwoing full well when you wake up you're going to have a nasty concussion, steels himself for the journey back to base. He has to move, now. He's carried you for long distances before, just to prove he can do it, but your life is in his hands this time.

"Yer not dyin' 'ere." He carries you in a crude variation of bridal style all the way to the helicopter, he doesn't dare let go. When he gets there he gently loads you onto one of those shitty stretchers, fastening you to the ground so you can't get hurt badly during the travel. He has an oxygen mask covering your fsce, happy that you're still breathing. He finally tries to asses the damage, you're bleeding slightly from gashes all over your arms. At least two of your ribs look fractured, and your left leg is completely crushed. He swallows thickly as Price is frantically arranging a specialist medical tesm for when they land. He sits directly next to you, Soap and Gsz talking his ear off about something he doesn't give a shit about.

The hours go by in a blur, all he can think of is you smiling back at him as he screams for you to get down or to cover your head. It plays over and over in his head whildt the doctors tend to you. He can barely even think about leaving the ward, running on empty until he gets the news you're ok. He can't bear leave you alone, not when he allowed this to happen. When he's alloeed into the room he looks at the amount of bandages plastered on your skin, the shitty cadt encased around you leg that you're definitely going to beg the doctors to allow you to take off early because it itches, then frown when they don't let you.

He takes your hand gently, rubbing his fingers across the soft skin, he's always loved that your hands which do the same work as him always managed to stay softer than his, probably those expensive creams you use on an evening. He's just glad he can feel the warmth of it. He looks at you, in the white hospital gown, not at all the white dress he's imagined seeing you in so many times.

It takes three agonising and sleepless days for you to wake up. Body finally feeling rested enough to even dare open your eyes. The bright white lights of the sterile room blinding you, you can't have died you think, and you're pulled back to reality when you notice a weight on your left side. A man with a scarred face, sleeping upright in a chair whilst holding your hand. He senses you stir and is awake in seconds. A light in his eyes that he hasn't had for days returning.

"Do i know you?" You ask quietly. You don't recognise this man at all, so youre confused as to why you're in his company.

"Don't mess aroun' with me Darlin' please." His voice is quiet, and youre just even more confused. You notice how he scans your face in utter disbelief and you stare at him

A doctor comes in to check on you, and all Simon can think about is how you forgot who he is. He knew you didn't really protect your head when the bomb dropped, but he wasn't expecting any amnesia at all, a slight fogginess maybe, but not the complete removal of him from your memories.

[miniaturepenguinkryptonite]

SHOT TO MY OWN DAMN HEART

WHAT DO YOU MEAN DO I KNOW YOU

when I tell you my heart dropped 😭

Poor baby done lost her memory

Poor Simon

[astrwww]

Hii guys! Soo i got a mssg saying that there's an acc, @whimsyunicornxd that's been rewriting others and my fics alike on their blog and posting it as theirs. So I just want you to go ahead and be aware and report it ig.

Just be aware, the blog is reposting other's fics too! 💔

[miniaturepenguinkryptonite]

This is so upsetting especially because our writers do this work for free and all they ask for is our support. To steal someone's work and pretend as if it is your own is truly so cold and thoughtless. It truly is despicable 😡. I would hope this person would gain some morals and delete these posts.

[thatwritererinoriordan]

[allybuggg]

hard of hearing!simon riley who comes home from a long op to you already mid-rant about your day, talking at full volume while you cook. He doesn’t flinch at the noise like he does with everyone else. Instead his shoulders drop, he leans against the doorway, and just watches you with that unreadable stare. You’re the only sound that doesn’t make his head hurt.

hard of hearing!simon riley who leaves little notes on the counter when his hearing is especially shot, but still pulls you into his lap on the couch so he can feel your chest vibrate while you yap. He rests his good ear against you, eyes half-closed, letting your endless chatter and giggles rumble through him like a balm.

hard of hearing!simon riley who fucks you with one hand cupped behind your head, tilting your mouth right against his better ear. He wants every broken whimper, every loud “Simon—fuck—right there—”, every single rambling praise you can’t stop spilling while he pounds into you deep and slow.

hard of hearing!simon riley who flips you onto all fours and presses his chest to your back, mouth right behind your ear. He rails you with one hand gripping your jaw so your loud, desperate moans go straight into his better ear. “Louder,” he grunts every time your voice starts to crack. “Need to hear you fall apart.”

hard of hearing!simon riley who discovers he can make you scream by curling his thick fingers just right while eating you out. He sucks on your clit and pumps two fingers deep, eyes locked on your face as you yap and cry and moan loud enough that the neighbors probably hate you. He doesn’t care. The louder you get, the harder he works you until you’re gushing on his tongue.

hard of hearing!simon riley who fucks you against the wall with your legs wrapped around his waist. He keeps one hand behind your head so your face stays buried against his neck and shoulder. Every time you moan and babble right into his good ear he slams into you harder, chasing that perfect pitch in your voice when you’re about to cum.

hard of hearing!simon riley who, on nights when the tinnitus is brutal, puts in earplugs on purpose just to heighten everything else. He fucks you in complete silence for him — only feeling the slap of skin, the way your body vibrates with every loud moan, your nails raking down his back. When he finally yanks the plugs out and your wrecked, screaming orgasm floods his ear, he cums instantly, burying himself to the hilt with a broken groan.

hard of hearing!simon riley who keeps you plugged full of his cock after he cums, lying on top of you while you’re still yapping sleepily. You’re mumbling about how full you feel, how much you love when he fucks you stupid, how his cum is leaking out already — soft, cockdrunk rambling right against his ear. He stays buried inside you, eyes closed, letting your voice lull the ringing away until he falls asleep.

hard of hearing!simon riley who starts waking you up with his head between your thighs just so the first thing he hears in the morning is your loud, surprised moan turning into endless yapping as he works you open with his tongue and fingers. Best sound in the world.

[iheartyuyu]

[very strong suicidal themes and strong topics. can not stress enough these warnings, reader is suicidal. v strong self projection... english isn’t my first language.]

the first time you ever had a proper conversation with sukuna ryomen, he saved your life.

that day was supposed to be your last, really. you had everything planned— letters written, belongings labeled with who to give them to, a plan in mind, and no doubt in your heart on what you were going to do.

you had nothing left.

your family would move on. your friends were already so busy, which would help. they would be distracted and they would move on, too. nothing in the world would stop, the world would continue spinning, and you were just so, utterly tired. you didn’t care about ‘being selfish’, all you cared about was just how badly you needed everything to stop.

you were just so tired.

too tired, in fact, to focus on anything as you walked into the roof of a frat party, deciding to enjoy one last party before you could finally rest. the roof was surprisingly empty, and you stood near the edge, leaning on the ledge quietly, eyes down on everyone partying downstairs, laughing and dancing and enjoying their best years.

the view was slowly becoming more blurry, your eyes glossing over with tears, taking a quiet, shaky breath, mourning the happiness you failed to ever achieve.

just then, the roof door slammed open, a loud groan echoing. “fucking choso always giving people the key. hey, you.”

you glanced over, gaze blank, vision cloudy with tears that you forced not to drop, and you paused. you could identify the tan, pink-haired frat president even with your vision blurry— fuck, probably even with your eyes shut.

sukuna ryomen was known.

the usual cliché frat president, really. a heartless asshole who’s great in bed, with a burning hot temper and knuckles that are always bruised with strangers’ faces to match. although, he definitely was prettier than any guy you had ever seen— not that it mattered, really, you never cared enough to focus on pretty guys when your first priority was to survive, but he was easy on the eyes.

for some reason, the 6’4 football player froze as soon as your eyes met. you only blinked blankly, barely able to properly see him, lack of lights on the roof and tears not helping the slightest. you sniffled, praying your voice doesn’t crack as you spoke. “sorry, am i not supposed to be here?”

he was frozen for a few more seconds, then frowned. “you’re in my monday class.”

you blinked, not expecting him to recognize you, before slowly nodding, not trusting your voice to not shake if you spoke again, he stared at you for a while longer, before walking over, leaning on the ledge beside you.

you didn’t care enough to overthink it, really, not enough to even think twice about why the life of the party was on the roof beside you instead of doing a line of shots downstairs. instead, you resumed staring at the party downstairs, trying to enjoy the last few hours—

“i don’t know you that well, but,” sukuna murmured, voice low. you blinked once, thanking the darkness for concealing the tears that finally dropped, keeping your gaze ahead as he sighed. you expected him to say something shallow, irrelevant— the kind of stuff frat boys spew to random girls on rooftops. “give it another try.”

you blinked, mind going blank for a moment. you were quiet for a beat, eyebrows slowly furrowing in confusion, because there was simply no way he was saying what you thought he was. “…what?”

“give it another try.” he grunted, voice low, serious. “one year ago, i was standing on this stupid roof with those exact tired, hopeless eyes and coming up with a plan because i wanted everything to stop. now ‘m fucking thriving.”

you froze, quiet and silent, heart beating too loud that you couldn’t hear your own thoughts anymore. sukuna kept getting blurrier, but you saw his head move to look at you before he sighed loudly. “…i’m not going to do anything, not even stop you. but, i know exactly how you feel, and i’m promising you, it really does get so much fucking better.”

“…bullshit,” you mumbled. your voice was quiet, hissed between gasps that were a pathetic attempt not to cry. he only hummed, quiet.

“i would have answered that way, too.” he muttered, voice quieter. “funny, isn’t it?”

you didn’t answer. you kept staring straight ahead, and sniffled. after a few quiet minutes, you breathed out, trying not to bawl in front of the stranger in your class. “…what stopped you?”

he let out a faint chuckle. it sounded sad.

“…you.” he muttered. you turned to him this time, utterly confused, no longer caring about the tears streaming down your face and how much of a mess you definitely looked. if he was looking at you in disgust, you definitely wouldn’t have noticed through the tears, anyways. his voice remained almost gentle, though. “that was the semester i never forgot to bring a fucking pen with me. everyday i showed up, and no one had an extra one, and i had to go get one from outside the fucking room. then, that day, i showed up, and you had two. you got one for me, a stranger, and i realized that maybe i wasn’t as invisible and meaningless as i felt.”

your breath halted, body freezing, tears flowing even faster. you could feel the neckline if your hoodie soaked with tears from how long you had been crying, but it barely registered in your mind when sukuna was casually mentioning that the reason he stood alive in front of you today was because you brought him a fucking pen. your eyes were wide, lips wobbling as they parted wordlessly, and you could finally make out the faint, sad smile on his lips.

“i just planned to raincheck it, you know. couldn’t let your pens go to waste. but, by the time the semester ended, i felt... better. i remember fucking laughing then, because holy fucking shit, it really does get better.” he stated calmly, reaching over, warm fingers wiping your tears in a way rhat was so nonchalant that it almost made you laugh. “so, trust me, i know how it feels. gets really fucking better.”

“…what if it doesn’t?” you finally manage to choke out. he hummed quietly, taking the time to think, before his fingers dropped away from your face.

“then you will get better,” he spoke, voice serious. “you’ll heal and adapt.”

“i don’t think i have it in me, sukuna.” you whimpered. “i don’t… i’m so tired…”

strong, yet gentle arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a solid chest. he held you so firmly yet so carefully, as if you were going to break if he breathed wrong.

“…let’s try,” he whispered, a hand gently sliding to hold your head gently as you broke, sobbing, the sound muffled by his shirt, which you definitely were ruining. “one more try. just one more, and then ‘ll never bother you anymore. i’ll even give you a pen, just one more semester, okay?”

you sobbed harder. he held you patiently, waiting for your cries to die down, never once loosening his grip, fingers carefully rubbing your back to comfort you. after a few minutes, you finally pulled away, harshly wiping your tears, and he spoke again, voice even quieter. “one semester, and then i’ll let you do whatever you want, i promise. please.”

you rubbed your eyes harder, as if that would remove the pounding headache that refused to leave you, even in your worst moments. “…you don’t have to be involved in this, sukuna.”

“i want to be.” he immediately argued, no hesitation. “least i can do after you saved my life, really.”

“that’s stupid. i just gave you a stupid pen.”

“that stupid pen saved my life,” he repeated, frowning. “please? please.”

you scoffed, the sleeves of your hoodie still covering your palms that you had pressed to your eyes; avoiding looking at him. “…i really don’t want you burdened.”

“you think i would do this if i didn’t want to?” he grunted. “have you heard nothing about me?”

you were quiet for a while, before you finally sighed.

you already had everything written and packed, plan ready, everything prepared. you already survived for twenty years, a few more months weren’t too bad, right? and it wasn’t like you had to force yourself if things became unbearable again, you could always just… do it.

worst case, sukuna would just end up as another letter in your life.

eventually, the curiosity of how sukuna thought he could ever make things better won, and you sighed, sniffling as you dropped your palms off your eyes, looking at him, your eyes exhausted and swollen. “…one semester.”

sukuna ryomen grinned like he won the fucking lottery. “i promise you, you’ll never regret this.”

and years later, as you laid in bed, turning off the alarm set for you to go to a job in a career you finally felt comfortable in, sitting in a room with mirrors you no longer despised even glancing at, with sukuna’s heavy arm wrapped around your waist because your clingy husband refused to let you get out of bed with ease, your lips twitched into a small, tiny smile.

yeah, gets really fucking better.

a/n: this was lowk horrible but using this fic to cope so it doesn’t matter anyways. do u guys like my new dividers I LOVE THEM shoutout to my tumblr crush fr <3

[miniaturepenguinkryptonite]

As a suicidal and a depressed girly WOW

So touching 🥺

I wish depression wasn't so evil and we could all get better 😭

[mewvore]

"we detected a mature post" yeah I'm in my 30s

[cuntrynikoli]

It was a normal night for the most part. All except for the fact that you were ovulating. Violently. And Simon was more than willing to help you as much as you could handle it because unfortunately you could only take so much. Your cunt was swollen and your entire body was sore, but fuck you wanted more. Needed more. You were dripping in a way that should be concerning.

"Come look at this," you hear Simon call out from the bed. He's still naked from your last round, scrolling through his phone.

You plop right onto his back, your tits squishing against him and your mouth instantly finds its way to his skin.

"What's up?" You ask softly while planting kisses across the back of his shoulders. You place intermittent nips and you can feel your arousal grow.

It shouldn't. You've had 3 rounds of 2 hour long sessions. Your legs are sore. They can barely open, and you struggled to make it out of the bedroom all day now.

You need to stop. You should stop.

You're not going to though.

"If you're going to bite me, then actually bite down baby girl," Simon purrs and rolls his shoulders so you have better access.

That's all the encouragement you need. You're teeth dig into the muscles along his back and where normally you'd be worried about accidentally breaking his skin and hurting him on accident, you're not worried about anything right now other than your aching cunt. You grind yourself against him and whimper. You teeth dig into him harder now and you can faintly hear him talking you through it, praising you for your efforts.

"That's it. You're doin' so good for me, princess," he coos as your mind gets fuzzy. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and then you feel it. It's sudden and surprising and you really want to pray to any god that's listening that you are not actually cumming right now.

But you are and it's a little dry and weak, but you're still cumming after humping and biting him like some reddit incel right now.

Simon freezes under and goes silent, and you slowly remove yourself from the top of him and stand.

"Sorry," you mumble while trying to catch your breath.

"Did you just cum?"

"Yeah," you reply shakily. You're vibrating. Your legs wobble like you're standing on Jell-O instead of flesh and bone.

You can see his bottom half move off the bed and then his hand is grabbing your throat and throwing you onto the bed.

"I'm gonna give you something to cum about. Open your legs," he growls.

The next hour is a blur, but somehow you get from lying on the bed to being pressed against the shower tile. You can only whine and moan and do your best to weakly meet his pace.

Eventually, though, Simon lets up again.

"I feel like a god right now," Simon hums as you just slump against him. The hot water is still hitting your entire front and to be honest it's overstimulating.

You just might pass out. There's a high possibility, but with the way that Simon's kneading at your plush hips, you almost want to go another round. Almost.

"Why?" You mumble, already half-asleep. He wraps his arms around you and gently pets your wet hair.

You barely comprehend his reply. It's something stupid about making you cum so many times today and you laugh breathlessly. You both stay like that until he eventually guides you back to the bed where you promptly, finally pass out.

[buckyscaptain]

girl dinner | bucky barnes x fem reader

authors notes: babies first smut is here!! this didn't start out as smut, it was supposed to be innocent and fluffy but i ended up in a mood and here we are. it's a little rough around the edges but we move. (will cry if anyone's mean about it x) did write this with beefy cw bucky in mind but this picture fit the moodboard better so it's up to you really.

warnings: 18+, mdni!!, oral (f receiving), fingering, smidge of degradation in the middle, pussy pronouns (blink and you'll miss it), smidge of a praise kink, hair pulling, not proofread so all my mistakes are my own, i think i've got everything?? please feel free to let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 1.4k

summary:

a lazy day ends with girl dinner and you trying to explain the concept to bucky, who decides to put his own spin on it.

it was a lazy day, the kind where time seemed to slip through your fingers like sand no matter how hard you tried to hold onto it. at some point it had started to rain, beating against the glass as the smell of fresh earth filtered in through the window and mixing with the candles you'd lit. bucky had claimed one corner of the sofa, blanket half draped over him as he read his book, you'd taken the other side, scrolling mindlessly through your phone until you'd gotten up to go and grab dinner.

which was simple enough.

until it wasn't.

"the hell is that?" his book dropped into his lap as he watched you walk back in like you weren't carrying a plate of whatever that was. you shrugged as you sat down next to him and balanced the plate on your lap. "okay, so… the last of the cake we got from the farmers market, string cheese times two, goldfish crackers, and some strawberries." you pointed out each thing, perfectly arranged so none of it would touch and contaminate anything else because god forbid. "girl dinner." you smiled as picked up a strawberry and took a bite, the juices staining the corner of your lips.

he blinked at you once before he looked down as your plate and then back up at you. "girl dinner… that's not—none of that goes together." he thought that he'd seen everything the modern world had to offer at this point, every tiktok, every trend—until this one sneaked up on him in his own living room. "is that even legal?" you snorted as you fed him a cracker, shaking your head. "you lived through the great depression, bucky, you've probably seen worse than this." he just shook his head as he watched you explain it all completely seriously.

"this is like girl math all over again." he was still minorly traumatised by the fact you confidently believed that things were free if you used cash instead of your card or the fact you were actually saving money by buying more things to get free delivery. "eh, not really. this is better than girl math because you get whatever you want for dinner. you should try it sometime, it's not that hard. dinner is just a concept made up society anyway."

he laughed at that, properly laughed as he bumped his shoulder against his. "hey!" you protested, looking utterly offended which was diminished by grin spreading across your face. "it's true! why should we stand around for hours to make something that we're going to eat in like ten minutes, when this does exactly the same thing, y'know?" he nodded solemnly like you'd just handed him state secrets instead of an opinion. "you say the same thing about matcha." you rolled your eyes as you shuffled closer, worming your way under his blanket and curling yourself against his side. "matcha is different. matcha tastes like grass and i'm convinced that it's some kind of brainwash of the masses thing. no offence." you were guilty of having opinions on a lot of things—one of the things he loved the most about you— but matcha was high up on that list because it made no sense at all.

"none taken." he huffed as he snaked his arm around you shoulders, metal hand rubbing circles against your shoulder as you carried on eating. "you do have a point, though. it's like blended up grass that people pay for the privilege of. what's wrong with a normal cup of coffee, huh? kids these days. but…" he reached over and plucked the plate from your hands despite your protests, setting it down on the coffee table.

"i can think of something else i'd rather have for dinner, for the record." he lay you down against the couch, hands warm against your sides as they slipped under your t-shirt. a whine left the back of your throat as your back arched up off the couch as you tried to chase his touch—heat already brewing between you thighs. "not fair…" you breathed softly as his fingers hooked under the waistband of your shorts and pulled them down slowly. he pressed a kiss just above your navel, using his nose to nudge your t-shirt up. "who said anything about fair? life's not fair." he murmured against your skin as his kisses trailed lower and lower until he reached the waistband of you underwear, pulling back just enough to look up at you.

you were wrecked already, an effect that only he'd ever managed to have on you. he put his hands on you and suddenly your brain turned to mush and you'd never had a cohesive thought in your life, and you were okay with that. your hands flew out on instinct, fingers curling around his hair and tugging as your underwear joined your shorts somewhere on the floor. "bucky…" you whined as he nudged your legs apart with his shoulders as he settled between them. "just trying to see my girl, look at her. so wet for me already, you're so easy sometimes."

your hips jumped up as dived in, his tongue flattening against your clit as his way of easing you in before he really started, circling and sucking and teasing as you turned into a trembling mess underneath him, hands still tugging at his hair. the way your thighs tremble around his head feels like a reward, paired with the moans and whines spilling from you freely. it's almost like a game for him, seeing how much he can pull from you. "fuck—you can't—oh god, don't stop, please…" you were vaguely aware of the words that were spewing out from you as his hands come up to your hips, vibranium cool against overheated skin as he pinned you down to try and stop the squirming.

he pulled back just enough to look at you, his chin already dripping with your slick as a grin spread across his face. "you want me to stop, baby? you gotta use your words for that, c'mon. you're a big girl, or have you gone all shy on me?" he cooed as one hand slipped down from you hip, brushing past your thigh. "poor baby, dumb already. look at you." his words snapped something inside of you, the last of your restraint crumbling as your hips bucked wildly and he stopped trying to hold them down.

"please. please, fuck—i—" you whimpered as he slipped a finger inside, crooking it just right but it wasn't enough. it was never enough. you needed the stretch, needed to be fuller. "more. you need—i need more." you pleaded, and who was he to deny you? he slipped another finger inside, moving them rhythmically as he hit that spot that had you seeing stars as you repeated his name over and over again like a prayer. you rutted against his hand shamelessly as you chased the friction—anything to get you over the edge.

when you did reach it, it felt like a live wire running straight through you.

every muscle in your body seized up as it burst like dam, your climax washing over you as you saw nothing but white for a couple of seconds as you lost yourself in the pleasure. it tore through you in waves and for a minute, you thought it was never gonna end. "that's it, baby. that's it. you did so well. look at how good you were for me. good girl." he murmured as he guided you through it, sitting back on his heels as he wiped his chin with the back of his hand. everything softened as he looked down at you underneath him, panting and writhing—your skin flushed from exertion. "hey, look at me." he reached down and tipped your chin up until your eyes found his. "you good?"

you blinked at him slowly, your body shuddering through an aftershock, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. "can't feel my legs, you bastard." you huffed as your hands finally left his hair, shoving his shoulder weakly instead. he chuckled as his thumb traced lazy circles against the inside of your thigh. "it was all that talk about dinner." he teased. "made me hungry for my girl, can you blame me? you can keep your girl dinner, i'm good right here."

[gloomwitchwrites]

for the anon that wants to know how the 141 eat pussy. mdni.

Gaz enjoys a slow, intimate 69 laying sideways. He can watch you suck his dick, touch more of you, finger as he licks.

Ghost likes it on his knees with your legs over his shoulders, arms supporting your ass and bracing you against the wall. He loves that you can’t wiggle away.

Soap is a face sitter. He wants you to crush him, to squeeze his head between your thighs. The man wants to die eating pussy.

Price is as traditional as they come. He’ll grab your ankle and yank you to the edge of the bed, go down on his knees, and have himself a feast.

CoD Headcanons / AUs / Quick Writes Masterlist // main masterlist

[gloomwitchwrites]

for the anon that wants to know how the 141 eat pussy. mdni.

Gaz enjoys a slow, intimate 69 laying sideways. He can watch you suck his dick, touch more of you, finger as he licks.

Ghost likes it on his knees with your legs over his shoulders, arms supporting your ass and bracing you against the wall. He loves that you can’t wiggle away.

Soap is a face sitter. He wants you to crush him, to squeeze his head between your thighs. The man wants to die eating pussy.

Price is as traditional as they come. He’ll grab your ankle and yank you to the edge of the bed, go down on his knees, and have himself a feast.

CoD Headcanons / AUs / Quick Writes Masterlist // main masterlist

[lacydear]

꒰ . ₊˚⊹♡ JACK IN :: eating you out while you're on your period. ꒱

TW: this one is really filthy, atleast the filthiest i've written... blood play(?), blood kink, period blood, oral (f receiving) jack being lowk a perv, but a loving one!

you hated your period.

it was...disgusting. it made you easily irritable, incredibly sensitive. and the worst part? you were a heavy flow girl. you couldn't go a period without staining atleast 2 pairs of panties and shorts.

you tried to find the beauty of it, to appreciate that it meant your body was working beautifully, the way it was intended to do so. but every time you wiped and saw red, it ruined your whole week.

jack also hated your period, but for different reasons. he wasnt a stranger to blood, he didnt budge at the smell of it, or even at the sight you so tried to hide of you accidentally staining the sheets. he hated it because you put your pussy on lockdown for an entire two weeks.

you claimed it was,“probably disgusting for you to see me like that.” as if you didnt know all the blood he's seen, all the blood that has been smothered on his body.

he had to fix this!

he couldn't let his girls go another day without getting touched, more less getting soothed.

“jack i really dont think we should do this.”

you were sitting on the middle of the bed, two towels layered under you while jack adjusted himself in a good position to be able to eat you out without putting too much strain on his prosthetic.

“please sweetheart. i wouldnt be begging so much if i didn't want to.”

that relaxed you a bit. also, the fact that in your years of dating multiple boys, not men, boys, some of them refused to eat you out in general.

and here is jack, such a gentleman, such a filthy old man begging to eat you out while you're on your period.

“f-fine. just-” you leaned back, spreading your legs shyly while grabbing a pillow to bury your face in. he wants to yank it out of your face. he wants to see your sweet face while you come apart from his tongue dammit.

but he's kind enough to let this pass, knowing that you're way past your comfort zone. “just relax, okay baby? it'll be like always.” as if he cant spell the tinge of iron coming from your pussy. he peels your panties off, ignoring the pad stuck on it.

he smiles at the sight of you, so open, so vulnerable. so his.

it starts with tiny little sucks and licks. giving you enough time to tell him to stop. and when you dont, he indulges himself and starts going more firmer. the tip of his tongue prodding at your entrance, moaning softly against your pussy at the taste of your juices paired with your blood.

you're clean shaven, something you always do whenever you get your period because its less of a mess. but you can feel everything. the feeling of his tongue flattening at your folds, his prickly scruff stimulating at your clit.

“jack...” a tiny whimper slips out, already throwing the pillow away to be able to grip his curls. “jack keep going im so so close-” apparently being on your period makes you extra sensitive down there too. he continues working, incredibly loud wet noises filling the room, paired with soft grunts coming from him as you tug at his hair.

sitting up slightly, you buckle your hips against his face, watching as your blood smears on his face even more. its so sexy, almost as if you were claiming him. it was your blood on his face, your blood that he's slurping right now.

“fuck fuck im-” you babble, eyes rolling back as you arch your back. thighs locking around his head to keep him in place. you dont even notice how his big, rough hands gripping your thighs as you go over the edge. your body goes limp, hips twitching as you come all over his tongue.

he pulls away, giving your puffy clit gentle pats while using one of the towels to wipe all the blood off his face. “see baby? it was so so good.” he coos, giving your trembling lips a soft peck, pressing his hands down on your hips to keep you from trembling too much. “lets go another round, yeah?” all you hear is the sound of his belt buckle hitting the floor before his big frame looms over you.

“gotta make sure i treat my girls good.”

[barnesdreamcatcher]

As long as you’re with me

jack abbot x f!reader

summary: you sleep with jack for the first time and discover what it means to be loved gently

cw: smut (mdni, 18+), gentle sex, oral (f rec), referenced p in v, reader uses sex as a coping mechanism and has low self-esteem, light intoxication

wc: 3k

a/n: listen, I do not think that rough sex is necessarily a bad thing, but it can be. I don’t feel like expanding on this 

now playing: Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby – Cigarettes After Sex

Jack can’t take his eyes off you. Not when you look the way you do right now: skin glowing, eyes sparkling, and a truly sincere smile on your face. 

The wine bottle shared between the two of you stands at your feet as his hands snake around your waist, pulling you closer. He tastes the grapes on your tongue when his own slips between your parted lips, mapping out the inside of your mouth slowly. His palm wanders from your side to the small of your back, pressing you flush against him. 

You only pull away when you start to get lightheaded—too little oxygen, too much love. 

Love. 

Neither one of you has said it yet. It’s much too early for that four-letter word, but the idea of it hangs over you as he kisses your cheek instead of your mouth to let you catch your breath. 

Jack tilts his head to meet your gaze and smiles softly. His eyes drift over your face like he’s memorizing every inch. He’s close enough that he could count each individual lash if he wanted to. 

When he lifts his hands to cup your face between his palms, you melt into his touch. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers. 

Your skin heats under his hands, blood rushing to your face. The timid smile on your face tugs at Jack’s heartstrings.

“So beautiful,” he repeats tenderly. 

He means it. 

You misinterpret it. 

When you stand on your tiptoes to kiss him again, there’s more heat to it—the kind that leads to places you haven’t been to with him yet.  He keeps you steady, your face still held by him.  His lips fit against yours like two puzzle pieces.

The weight of him leads you towards the couch naturally. He doesn’t guide or force but simply leans in until you sink onto the cushions, him braced above you. 

Your hand drifts down from his chest to his stomach. Through his shirt, you still feel the way his muscles flex under your touch.  He breaks the kiss to look at you, an almost dopey curve to his mouth. 

“You’re ticklin’ me,” he mumbles. 

“That’s on purpose,” you reply. 

He grins, then catches your hands in his own.  “Is that so?” he whispers. “Anything else you want to confess?”

You let a few seconds pass, just for dramatic effect, before you nod.  “Yeah,” you mumble, “I’m also trying to take your shirt off right now.”

Jack chuckles softly.  “You don’t say,” he teases. “Any reason for that?”

You roll your eyes fondly.  “Take a guess.”

A gentle laugh spills from him, originating deep from his chest. You feel the vibration travel through him until it reaches your hand, too. 

“I think I can help out with that.”

He grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls it up, then over his head. Your eyes are glued to every inch of sun-kissed skin that’s slowly exposed. For a moment, you hesitate before you reach out to rest your hand on his chest, feeling the heat radiating from him. 

When you’ve had your fill of touching him—though you’re not sure you’ll ever get enough of him—you take off your own shirt. You had planned in advance and worn a black lace bralette, but you hadn’t told Jack, so you could trick him into thinking that you’re always this put together.  The matching panties waited for him under the skirt, which you were eager for him to pull off of you. 

Jack can’t look away—and doesn’t want to. You’re surprised that for once, it doesn’t feel like you’re being ogled. 

No, Jack admires. 

His fingers drift over your breasts up to your neck, then rest on your face. 

“Like I said,” he whispers. “Beautiful.”

Instead of answering, you lean in to kiss him again. As your lips press against his, you reach for his belt buckle and open it. Jack hums into your mouth, a small roll of his hips encouraging you. 

He helps you take off his jeans. Jack talked to you about not wearing his prosthetic at home around you a few days ago, but right now, he still has it on. He seems a little nervous as his pants fall away, and you get a full glance at it for the first time.

You don’t mind at all. 

The next barrier that falls is your skirt. Jack undoes the zipper at the side carefully, then slides the fabric down your legs. He makes a sound you can’t quite categorize when he sees the thin lace panties you picked out for tonight.

“Fuck,” he whispers, “How are you this perfect?”

Again, you forgo an answer with another kiss. 

Jack notices. He cups your face, then pulls away a little just to look at you. His brows knit together slightly. 

“Hey,” he mumbles.

You haven’t been together that long yet, but he knows you well enough to see that you don’t feel like talking about this right now.  Still, for a moment, he chews on his bottom lip in contemplation before he asks, “Wouldn’t you rather take this to the bedroom?”

You shrug softly. “I don’t mind the couch. Whatever you want.”

The divot between his brows deepens.  “But I’m asking you what you want,” he counters. “If… if we’re doing this right now, I want you to be comfortable.”

“I am comfortable,” you reply. 

He nods reluctantly.  “Alright,” he mumbles.

The next kiss feels a little different—not in a bad way, just more careful. Jack waits, lets you chase him instead of taking the lead. So you do. 

You reach behind you to unfasten the clasps of your bra. As the lace falls away, Jack watches with amazement. He almost manages to throw in another compliment for you, but you don’t give him the chance. You stand up from the couch and hook your fingers into your panties, then slowly slip them off.  Jack’s breath hitches. He leans into the back of the couch to watch as you step out of the fabric that fell to your ankles. This time, he truly stares. 

When you step closer, he pulls you in by your hips until you’re seated on his lap. Your bare cunt brushes over the bulge in his boxers, causing both of you to moan. 

You roll against him once, then twice, then kiss him again. The heat between the two of you is unbearable. You don’t understand why he hasn’t taken off his underpants yet and wonder if he maybe just needs a little bit more encouragement, so you grind down against him again. 

Jack hisses at the contact, his fingers tightening on your sides. 

“Fuck, baby,” he mutters. “You’re gonna give me a heart attack.”

“Then let me help you,” you chuckle and reach for the waistband of his boxers. He lifts his hips to help you slip them off—and you swallow hard when you see what you’re working with. The grey happy trail you’ve been eyeing since his shirt came off leads down to his thick cock. The size of the bulge makes more sense now. He’s veiny and flushed a dark red, almost a little purple at the tip. 

“Jesus,” you whisper.

Jack chuckles, maybe even a little self-consciously so. 

“Yeah, it’s um… it’s been a while for me,” he admits. 

Your mouth falls open—you hadn’t expected that. A man with his looks, a doctor at that, too?

“Really?” you ask. “I mean… that’s okay. I don’t mind. Just… tell me what you like.”

He shrugs softly. 

“I like you.” 

His answer is so sappy that it makes you grin. 

“Shut up. No, really, tell me what you like.”

Jack looks at you and pulls you closer again. 

“I’m serious,” he mumbles. “I just want you, however you want. Why? What kinda stuff do the kids like these days?”

Your face warms a little.

“I don’t know,” you mumble. A total lie.  “We can try some stuff, you know?”

“Like what?” he asks. “You want me to tie you up?”  He chuckles like the idea is absurd to him. 

“Would you want to tie me up?” you counter. 

Jack’s brows furrow again. 

“I don’t think that’s my thing,” he says quietly. 

You nod slowly.  “What about…”

Saying it out loud feels, for lack of a better word, cringe, so you take his hand and place it on the base of your throat. 

Jack doesn’t pull away immediately, but his fingers don’t wrap around your neck either. He looks up at you, his jaw set tightly.  Then he shakes his head and cups your face instead. 

“I don’t think so,” he says softly. “How about… we just take things slow and figure it out as we go?”

When you nod, Jack kisses you, and it tastes like relief.  He surprises you when he switches positions with you—you’d have thought he would want you to stay on top.  

Jack braces his weight on his forearms as he hovers above you, his face just inches away from you. Then he lowers his head, but his lips don’t meet yours—they trail down over your chest. His tongue swirls around your nipple, making you gasp as the sensation tingles through you. 

He cups your other breast, squeezing and kneading the flesh gently, then places a kiss on the valley between your breasts before he descends further.  To your ribs… then your navel… then your hipbone. 

Your breath stills completely when his fingers come to rest on your thighs. He doesn’t push them open yet.

“May I?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” you whisper. 

He parts your legs gently, his eyes still focused on you until he lowers his head and—

Your world tilts a little. 

When his tongue drags through your drenched slit, and Jack moans out loud, you arch towards him. He holds your hips in place, fingers digging into the flesh—not hard enough to bruise, but enough to make you feel him. 

“Fuck,” he gasps, “You taste so fucking good, baby.”

He flattens his tongue against your clit, licking upwards until you see stars.

“Jack-“ you moan, trying… you don’t know what you’re trying to say. Your fingers find purchase in his hair, tugging slightly at the grey curls.  He sucks your clit into his mouth, causing you to cry out in pleasure. 

He laps at your cunt like a starved dog, and you can’t believe that “it’s been a while” for him, not when he’s eating you out like that.

“I—oh God,” you sigh dreamily.

Your legs quiver, your hips twitch—your entire body is shaking with pleasure. 

“That’s it, baby,” Jack murmurs, his words muffled. “Fuck—please, just let me make you feel good.”

The sounds of your arousal mixing with his saliva are unholy—a wet overflow of moisture between your thighs. Jack seems to be right where he wants to be. He moans into your flesh, his hips bucking and pressing into the couch below like he is trying to alleviate the ache, the buildup of his own need. 

When you come apart, he guides you through it, not stopping until your brain is overflowing with oxytocin and your thighs won’t stop shaking. 

Both of you are panting when he comes up.  He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and smiles devilishly. 

“God… we’re so doing this again,” he declares softly. 

You’re at a loss for words. You haven’t come like that ever. All you can do is nod and reach for him. 

Jack plants his arms on either side of your head and kisses you deeply. You taste yourself on his tongue, the sweet, tangy flavor erupting in your mouth. 

His leaking cock presses against your tummy as his lips graze yours.

You reach between you and stroke him, making him groan into your mouth. 

“Jesus,” he mutters when he pulls away to look at you. “You—”

He thrusts into your hand instinctively, and you realize just how pent up he is. 

“Your turn,” you whisper. 

Jack tsks softly, half amused, half… something else.  He cups your face and kisses your jaw tenderly. 

“Believe me, that was my turn,” he says lowly. “But if you want to keep going, I’m sure as hell not saying no.”

--

The bliss afterwards is indescribable. But it’s also foreign.

You still sense every press of his hands on your body without feeling tender, every brush of his lips without a single mark on your skin, and every thrust of his hips without that residual feeling of having been used. 

Jack was nothing but gentle. 

And god, it was incredible. 

The sheets underneath you are crumpled and slightly damp with sweat and sex, but you don’t mind. Not when Jack’s arm is wrapped around you, your back pressing against his chest. He kisses the side of your neck where your pulse still flutters with excitement. 

“You were incredible,” he whispers.

It must be so obvious that his words fluster you because he smirks when you hide your face in the sheets. 

“Barely even did anything,” you mumble. 

Jack makes a sound you can’t quite discern. 

“Right,” he chuckles. “Except that thing where you got really tight when you were about to come again or—”

You whip around and press your hand over his mouth, your eyes wide and embarrassed.

“Jack,” you complain, half-serious, half-playful. 

He kisses your palm and smiles. 

“Hey, I’m just teasin’,” he retorts. “But I really meant it. It was really great for me.”

“Yeah, for me, too,” you mumble. 

You’re not used to any kind of pillow talk, so the words feel thick, like they don’t quite want to leave your mouth. 

Jack doesn’t seem to mind. He just pulls you closer against his chest and rests his chin on the top of your head. 

As the minutes pass, he tells you to go pee and promises more cuddles later on. 

In the bathroom, you look at yourself in the mirror. The haphazardly buttoned-up shirt you’re wearing belongs to Jack and falls to your mid-thigh. Your hair is a mess from how often he ran his hands through it. A few hickeys begin to gain color and paint your neck a soft purple.

You can’t help but smile. 

“Hey, sweetheart?” Jack calls out. “Your phone keeps vibrating. I think someone really wants to talk to you!”

“Yeah, just a sec,” you reply. 

When you return to his bedroom, Jack is sitting up, his brows drawn together slightly. Your phone is in his hand, the screen facing up. 

“Sorry,” he says as he passes it to you. “I didn’t mean to spy on you or anything, just wanted to bring it to you.”

You take your phone and glance at the messages—and feel your face heat up.

“Oh.” Your laugh comes out stiff as you quickly shut off your phone. “Sorry, um—they’re joking, of course. Like, uh…”

Jack looks at you quietly, watching as you fumble nervously with the edge of your phone case. There was a light flush to his cheeks now, too. 

“No, no, don’t worry, I shouldn’t have read it anyway, I just looked at it ‘cause it kept… vibrating,” he explains. 

The awkward silence that follows feels detrimental. 

You wonder if you should explain more, or if maybe stammering another apology would make it worse, but then Jack breaks the quiet first. 

“Not to sound my age, but… I assume cracking means… uh… hooking up?”

You press your lips together uncomfortably.

“Yeah,” you mumble. “Like, um… yes.”

He nods once. Then he tilts his head to catch your eyes. 

“It’s not the… nicest word, is it?” he asks. 

“It’s just, like, a TikTok thing,” you answer. 

“Hm,” is all he replies. 

Then he takes your hand and guides you back onto the mattress. You meet his gaze hesitantly. The lines around his eyes are a little deeper, just like the furrow between his brows. He doesn’t seem angry, just serious.

“I… I kind of would prefer it if you didn’t think of what we just did as… “cracking”. It’s not the word I would use,” he says slowly.

“It’s just a word,” you mutter. 

“Not to me,” he argues softly. “It’s… words have meanings. And cracking sounds like… like I’m doing something to you, not with you. I don’t mean to be… all old man and, like, police your language. But… I don’t want you to think of sex with me that way. Or… with anyone else for that matter, even though, ideally, I would like this to be a long-term thing.”

His hazel eyes don’t leave your face for even a single moment, and it’s almost overwhelming—if it weren’t for the sincerity in them. 

“I’m sorry—" you begin, but Jack shushes you.

“No, sweetheart, I don’t- I don’t want you to apologize. I just want you to be comfortable with me. I wanna make sure you… you feel respected by me,” he explains. 

“I do,” you reply quickly. “Really. Like, no one else has ever… been this kind to me.”

Jack’s face falls. 

“Oh, no, I mean, like… you’re a gentleman,” you elaborate.

He shakes his head softly. 

“No, baby, I’m… this is… this is the bare minimum. Christ.”

Jack’s hands find yours, and he leans in to kiss your forehead. Then he wraps his arms around you. 

“At the risk of sounding like your father, I think you kids need to put down your phones and go out in the real world.”

❤︎ just a quick reminder that the best way to support authors on here is to comment and reblog ❤︎ ☆ find my masterlist here ☆

[conleches]

some fucking resources for all ur writing fuckin needs

body language masterlist

a translator that doesn’t eat ass like google translate does

a reverse dictionary for when ur brain freezes

550 words to say instead of fuckin said

638 character traits for when ur brain freezes again

some more body language help 

[bellero]

REBLOG TO SAVE A WRITER

[yurivoid]

Hiding your face in Vi’s neck as she fucks you nice and slow with her fingers

oh godddd i’m starving for this. she has you in her lap, spread open perfectly for her to slip three fingers in from below. her fingers are pruning from how long they’ve been covered in your arousal, but if anything, the texture adds more delicious friction when she crooks her fingers in your cunt and fucks you so deep you see stars. maybe you’re a little shy, a little overwhelmed by the pleasure roiling through you and the sounds that leave your lips unprompted, so you duck your head into vi’s neck and pant against her skin, kiss and bite the supple flesh where her shoulder meets her neck.

“hear that?” vi rasps, her fingers producing a lewd, drawn-out squelch with every thrust into your leaking cunt. “so fucking wet for me, baby. sound so pretty with my fingers inside you.”

her words only make you wetter, tighter. your cunt squeezes helplessly around her digits and you loose a pathetic, wanton moan against vi’s neck, hips jolting when her fingertips rub tantalizingly against your g-spot. you press your face further into the crook of her neck, cheeks burning with embarrassment from the sounds of your soaked pussy and the whiny, desperate moans that she pulls from your mouth again and again.

“can’t even look at me, huh?” vi taunts. she turns her head in an attempt to see your face, but you’re still hiding in her neck, gasping when her fingers slip deeper and deeper still into your pulsing hole. “that’s okay, babygirl. hide all you want - you know i can feel how bad you want this.”