Normally I don’t make posts like this, however I fear this needs to be heard. We are running out of clean drinking water. In 13 years we will have run out. Currently, over 2 billion people do not have access to clean drinking water. In order to help fight against generative AI and overuse of water, please limit/stop generative AI use. Generative AI is taking from clean water reserves worldwide in order to generate texts, images and videos. Instead of talking to a character bot, write/read some fanfiction. Instead of using ai to draw a photo, teach yourself or use an irl refrence. Help fight against AI and stop it from taking what makes us all human- our own mind and artwork.
thank you ao3 for being an archive and not an algorithm. thank you for letting me like things without consequences, thank you for being free with no ads, thank you for having lawyers to defend our freedom of speech. thank you tag wranglers. thank you to all authors and thank you ao3
CHARLOU!!! BB!!! ily so much! oh my gosh you're the freaking best spoiling me like that! Should be freaking illegal!
Can I request one more? Only when you have time! But that discussion we had about Buggy has been living rent free in my mind.
Fuck! Pretty please~
I LOVE YOU!!!!
-M✨
Mille!!! bb!! You know damn well that it was already half-written. It's been living rent-free in my mind too hun hahahaha (I recommend the Jack Sparrow theme as you read it)
Love you too, you horndog <3
In Search of Shanks
Buggy x Fem!Reader
wc: 2.9k
warnings: NSFW, 18+, MDNI, rough sex, drunk sex, slight alcohol abuse, there's no plot people... it's just smut
Summary: While traveling through the grand line in search of Red-haired Shanks you encounter Buggy the Clown... and things ensue
OR you fuck the clown
You were already wasted as you stumbled into the fourth bar of your night. No one knew shit. The bastard’s location still remained a fucking mystery.
“Hi there,” you drawled at the bartender as you slumped none so elegantly down on the standing stool. “Know anything about the whereabouts of Red-haired Shanks?”
The bartender glanced at you, raising an eyebrow as he wiped down a glass. “Shanks, huh?” he repeated with a bemused smile. “Been a while since I’ve seen him.” He leaned forward as he continued. “No idea where he went though, lass. Anything to drink?”
You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Figures. The bastard’s slippery as fuck.” You fumbled in your coin pouch, slamming a few berries on the counter with a bit more force than necessary. “Whatever’s cheapest please.”
The bartender chuckled and poured you a mug of something that smelled like it could strip paint. You took a long swig, wincing as the harsh liquid burned its way down your throat.
You turned around, squinting your eyes as you struggled to put into focus your surroundings. This was a sketchy establishment. Musty and falling apart at the seams. Just like you. Your gaze landed on something red, slightly gleaming in the shitty flickering lamplight.
Red nose.
A red fucking nose, huh? What a weird fellow.
Wait.
A red nose should remind you of something. Right! Your mind distantly placed it. Some tall tales recounted around a campfire about being part of Gold Roger’s crew.
Fucking hell.
Lady Luck worked in strange ways.
“Hey! You! Big red nose!” you shouted, pointing unsteadily in his direction.
The men around him stopped whatever they’d been doing, freezing in place as the man in question slowly turned to you.
“What d’ya say?” Buggy the Clown’s voice was precariously calm as his eyes met yours.
You teetered on the edge of your stool, attempted to stand up, the world tilting a little, then slumped back down. “You heard me, red nose. I need to know something.”
“Red nose!” he screeched dangerously, stomping to you, fury evident in his gaze.
You snorted at the display. What was his problem? Men were always so sensitive, you just stated the obvious.
“What about my nose?” he demanded, eyes blazing, a knife finding itself to your throat in a very clear threat.
You met his glare defiantly. He had pretty eyes, now that you could see him up close. Actually, if you got past the nose and the makeup, he was quite handsome. Was that his hair coming through his hat? You rather liked long hair. More to pull and grab. Your stare danced down. Good build too.
You smirked, cocking your head and leaning slightly into the knife. You felt it slice through skin a little. “Careful there, clown.” Your tongue passed your lips, your hand going to the blade, tips of your fingers tracing the steel slowly as you continued. “I might be into that, you know?” you giggled. “But you know Shanks, right? You’re Binky, right?… no was it Baggy… Ah! Booggy!! Ehe, nailed it,” he frowned, destabilized by your drunken train of thoughts. “Anyways, any idea where that red-haired bastard might be?”
Buggy’s eyes narrowed, the blade pressing just a bit more firmly against your neck. It was more of an ego thing now than a threat, though you could clearly see the confusion and irritation in his gaze. “It’s Buggy, you half-wit,” he growled.
You felt a familiar heat pool at your core at the way his voice shrieked… or maybe it was the degradation paired with the knife at your throat… Or a mix of it all. Either way, it made you smile and lean further into the act. To your satisfaction, he seemed to distantly catch your train of thought.
He took a step closer, making you lean against the bar, your back arching under him. “And why should I tell you anything about Shanks?” his breath brushed against your lips.
You snorted, his question unfortunately bringing you back out to reality. “Why, pretty boy?” Your mouth twisted as you slowly removed the blade out of his hand. “Cause the bastard knocked my sister up and left without saying shit.”
The words hung between you for a while. You could see the wheels turning in his mind, working. Then his expression shifted. Disbelief. Amusement.
He laughed.
“Shanks has a kid?” he bellowed and you sighed downing the god-awful booze in your cup.
“Five fucking years old, still hasn’t shown back up and not answering letters,” you added, rolling your eyes. “You guys were in Roger’s crew together, right? You MUST have an idea where he is.”
The echo of his laughter dimmed. He crashed on the stool next to yours, hearty chuckles still shaking his shoulders. “No fucking idea, woman,” he gestured at the bartender to get you new booze.
You slumped down defeated. “More slippery than an eel in fucking oil,” you complained under your breath. A tankard appeared in front of you. You eyed it dubiously, then eyed the clown. “You better be paying, pretty boy,” you said before taking a gulp. It was far better than whatever you’d been drinking before. “Cause I’m flat-out broke.”
Your head hurt. Hurt so fucking bad. You could hear the rhythm of your heart in your ears. You creaked your eyes open, soft rays of sunshine an insult to your very being. You pulled the covers against yourself, fabric dragging along bare skin. Wait. Was that a bed? It was a nice bed. You hadn’t slept in one so comfortable in ages. You caught something blue in the periphery of your vision.
Ah right. The clown.
You looked at him for a bit, sleeping soundly, long hair splattered around him, the sheets barely hiding his naked frame.
Damn, you’d been right. He was a pretty boy.
You tried to get up, but slumped back down just as fast, your body feeling like lead.
Fuck.
Most of the past night was a mystery to you. Though it didn’t take more than adding two and two together to figure out what you’d done with the clown.
Fuck, you could still feel him a little. Though your thighs were clean. Surprisingly gentlemanly. You chuckled softly. Must have been a good lay, shame you didn’t remember.
You spotted a half-empty bottle of booze lying on the floor. You shifted over lazily, tips of your fingers grazing the cool glass before they finally wrapped around it. Expertly you untwisted the cap, bringing the alcohol to your lips.
You smirked. Shit was good quality. Couldn’t be hungover if you were drunk.
You closed your eyes with a satisfied exhale, images slowly coming back to you.
You’d been talking and laughing for a while now. Your conversation had shifted to a more secluded corner of the shabby establishment. You were straddling him as he recounted another unbelievable story, his hand detached as he waved it around, punctuating his words.
You giggled a little, eyes stuck on his lips, not following a single one of his words. Then your mind started going down the slippery slope of the possibilities of his devil fruit powers. You put your palm on his chest, steadying yourself as you looked into the sea of his eyes.
“Say,” you mused drunkenly. “Buggy,” you uttered his name wantonly, dragging it emphatically through your lips, leaning near, breath mingling with his as he slowly stopped talking. “Can you detach, like, everything?”
Your lips almost touched, his gaze sparkled with amusement.
“Everything,” he confirmed your thoughts, inching a little closer. With a flick of his wrist, his hand reattached itself, going to your thigh, traveling up to your ass then to your lower back, slipping under the hem of your shirt as he found his way to your waist.
You let out a small whine as ideas crossed your mind. You smirked as you asked, “Have you ever, like, detached your head to suck yourself?” He chuckled nervously but before he could say anything you continued. “Cause, if it were me,” you moaned, low, pressing yourself against him shamelessly. “I think I’d eat myself out every day.” You rolled your hips. “Fuck, the possibilities.”
You cringed as the memories of your drunken boldness flooded back. You shouldn’t be surprised, you guessed. It was far from unusual from you, and it clearly wasn’t your worst blunder.
He shifted a little next to you, slowly coming back to the land of the living.
You took another sip, the burn down your throat feeling heavenly.
“Mornin’, pretty boy,” you rasped as his eyes creaked open.
He just groaned.
He’d brought you back to his ship, both giggling as you drunkenly tumbled down the cobblestone path. You’d almost fallen off the gangplank as you made your way to the gaudy swaying deck.
As you entered his quarters, his lips found yours, hungry and demanding. Red lipstick and day-old makeup smeared across your face as your tongues met. His body pressed yours against the door, hands not wasting time as he undid your pants.
The kiss broke for an instant as you took off your shirt. Mouths crashing again as soon as the fabric passed your head. Your fingers bunched desperately into his coat before tugging it off with urgency. Your hands traced up his arms, finding muscles you hadn’t entirely expected.
“Buggy,” you moaned into him, a sound muffled against his lips. His hand detached, buried itself in your underwear.
You bucked as the tips of his fingers found the bundle of nerves in small circles. Your nails dug into sinews as you struggled to keep upright. His body leaned further into you, a grounding weight. You felt fingers tangle in your hair, pulling your head back as he trailed down your jaw, the hollow of your throat.
“Shit, you’re wet. Wanna hear you,” he murmured against your ear, tongue meeting your lobe, teeth nibbling.
He pressed a touch harder on your clit and you mewled and swore under your breath for him. Then you felt two of his fingers detach and enter you, lazily pumping in and out.
Oh fuck. That wasn’t fair.
Your hands shot to his head, tossing the hat away as your fingers sought to tangle themselves in his locks. Long blue strands cascaded around his shoulders and your nails found his scalp, digging almost painfully,
He moaned in tandem with you at the sensation, hips rolling against yours, making the palm at your cunt drag harder against your clit. “Gonna cum,” you warned in a high-pitched voice you barely recognized.
Your walls twitched against his fingers as you came undone. He didn’t stop as you rode your high, dancing ridiculously close to the line of overstimulation. As your body slumped, relying entirely on him to hold you upright, digits snapped together, hand slowly retreating before going back at his wrist.
“Fucking hell,” you panted, guiding his head back to yours, lips meeting leisurely. You went to the front of his pants, palming him. “Take me to bed, you pretty pirate captain.”
He chuckled, lust in his eyes. “Say that again.” He grabbed your ass roughly, pulling you up and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist.
“What part?” You licked his lower lip, hands lacing around his neck for support as he made his way to the bed. “Pretty?” You kissed his jaw. “Pirate?” Your teeth dragged on his neck. “Or? Captain?” you whispered in his ear.
He rolled his hips at the last one, the sound of pleasure escaping his mouth obscene. He unceremoniously dropped you down on the mattress, bouncing for an instant. You quickly kicked your boots and removed your pants off, panties and bra following suit, thrown into oblivion.
He started doing the same, shirt discarded but before he could unlace his pants you grabbed his hand, pulling him to you. He stumbled down, your bodies colliding, long hair draping around you as he kissed you.
With a quick movement, you flipped the both of you, straddling him. “You still got those knives, captain?” you asked, grinding yourself on his hips, leaving a wet spot on his pants. “I want you to hold one to my neck as I fuck you.”
He grinned and you suddenly felt cool steel at your neck. “Fucking stunning.” He bucked under you.
You swore as you realized the hand holding the knife was floating, your head lulled back, a needy mewl escaping you. This shit was hot. You quickly made works of the laces of his pants, pulling out his cock.
He was already hard for you, leaking. You traced along him, touch fleeting until you reached the tip, your grip tightening, thumb swiping the bead of precum, gathering it. You brought back your fingers to your mouth, licking them clean, the taste salty on your tongue as you slowly started lowering yourself on him. His hand shot to your hip, fingers digging into the softness of your flesh as he tried to steady himself.
A loud moan escaped him, his back arching, breathing uneven as you took him fully. “Fucking warm and tight,” his voice was shaky.
You didn’t waste time, lazily making your way up and down his cock. The stretch was heavenly. You grabbed his hand at your hip and brought it to your chest. You rolled your hips and his fingers pinched and squeezed for you.
“Fuck, Captain,” you gasped. You went to your clit, fingers expertly circling, matching the movements of your rhythm. You purposely leaned into the blade and you felt blood trickle down your neck. “Fuck.” Your thighs trembled.
“Shit, woman,” he grunted, hips rising to meet yours. “Who knew you’d be such a whore.” Your walls twitched and you stuttered at his words. He smirked. “You like that? Whore?” he punctuated his question with an especially forceful thrust, fingers pinching hard on your nipple.
“Yes!” you cried out, desperately chasing your high. “Oh gods, yes.”
“That’s right.” he started thrusting into you more steadily, making up for your weakening thighs.
One of your hands shot to the hand holding the knife at your throat as you came, holding the blade more firmly against your, your body spasming and folding in pleasure.
You distantly heard him chuckle at the sight. Then you felt yourself be turned around completely, your face burying itself in the linen covers, his cock somehow still pumping into you in the exchange of positions.
The pace he set was hard, fast, rough, just how you liked it. You felt fingers burying themselves in your hair, pulling painfully, then pushing you harshly into the mattress. A staggered scream of pleasure escaped your mouth, drool seeping into the loose weave of the fabric.
Your thighs shook violently, threatening to collapse as overstimulation bordered the edge of your mind. Your fingers tangled in the covers. His hand came to your clit in small flicks. It sent your world careening. You couldn’t breathe properly. You felt threads snap beneath the force of your nails.
“Shit, never asked your name,” The rhythm of his hips was becoming more frazzled, urgent. The hand in your hair pulled you up a bit to hear your answer.
“(Y/n),” you moaned again and again, punctuated by incomprehensible swears.
He chuckled. Your name rolled on his lips. It sounded nice. “Pretty name,” he mused, pushing your head back in the covers roughly. “Fuck,” his fingers circled harder against your clit and tears stained linen along your drool. “Sail with me, (y/n).”
You were too far gone to answer him properly, a second orgasm tingling at the tips of your fingers. “Yes!” you agreed mindlessly, toes curling.
The world disappeared around you as you came, shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you. “Fuck,” you sobbed as your body tried to retract from the stimulation of his touch.
It didn’t take long for him to join you in rapture, suddenly pulling out of you, thrusting against your ass, hot seed spilling along your lower back.
“Mind if I smoke?” you asked as you unsteadily made your way to your pants, discarded on the floor next to a small window. You felt his stare on your naked figure as you bent down shamelessly, looking into your pockets for your lighter and your pack of cigarettes.
“Ya can do whatever you want, woman,” he groaned behind you, his voice still thick with sleep.
You chuckled, bringing one to your lips and lighting it without much thought. You closed your eyes for a moment, relishing the exhilaration that came with the smoke filling your lungs. Your eyes creaked open again, only now noticing the unending expanse of blue in the horizon.
Ahhhhh.
Fuck.
You’d set sail.
You sighed. Didn’t matter.
You took another puff of smoke, turning back to the bed.
“Soooo,” you drawled out the word, the mattress dipping under your weight. You ungracefully made your way to the pirate, straddling him, bottle of booze in one hand, cigarette hanging from your lips. “Captain.” You rolled your hips against him, feeling heat pooling between your thighs as your oversensitive clit caught on his hardening cock. You exhaled, smoke coming out in a hypnotizing pattern. “How about we have some fun.”
Warnings: nsfw, buggy x gn!reader. virgin!reader. mention of power-balance kink. mention of casual sex. condom. cumshot. penetrative sex - reader receiving.
WC: ~930
Intimacy among the crew wasn't an unfamiliar practice. And as the captain, Buggy was bestowed an unexpected extra responsibility.
It's no secret how much the crew adored their leader. How much they sang his praises, both with clothes on and without. And among those who found themselves exposed and enthralled, quite a few were…novices. Inexperienced. First timers.
Oddly enough, the virgins who got off on the power balance more than Buggy himself. He enjoyed it, no doubt about that. But it was usually the same stock performance - too much laughing, a hand on his arm or knee, a bashful look from under eyelashes, a confession that was given like a gift, some fucking, and then the curtains fell.
Once the condom was full and Buggy's belt was fastened back around his waist with another notch, the task was done. Maybe there would be a few more hook-ups, something to chase the first high, but that was about it.
So one look at you and Buggy knew exactly what was going to happen. What you expected him to do.
But when he saw you laying on his bed, it seemed different.
Did anyone else's hair catch the light like this? Did anyone else fall back into his sheets with a sigh like they were descending into bliss? How many others clasped their fingers behind his neck and pulled him closer? How many were bashful about kissing him, even when he was balls deep inside?
Buggy couldn't remember. Some must have, right? Or maybe it was none… He had no idea and he couldn't give much of a damn right now. He just wanted more from you.
Sitting back on his heels, Buggy left part of himself sliding in and out of you. A nice and steady pace, just enough to keep you breathless and just out of reach of something more. To prolong your experience, of course, and not because Buggy was indulging in his greed and wanted to watch you whimper and moan a little longer.
No one else had looked this good taking his cock.
Almost as if you could read his mind, you opened your legs further and let him feast his eyes on the full spread.
Buggy barked out a laugh, "Virgin, huh?"
He put a hand on your thigh and squeezed a warning. Of course he didn't want to be lied to, but he also didn't want to be doing anything - or anyone - else right now.
"Y-yeah," you choked out between moans. "I am. I just…I like you."
You could barely meet his eyes. Buggy slowed the pace and you still avoided looking at him. All you gave were quick little glances, as if double checking he was still between your legs. As if he was the one between your legs.
Buggy licked his lips and thought.
"Say that again," said the Captain.
His thumb rubbed circles against your skin. Although his fingers had loosened their grip on your thigh, the pressure behind his hand was keeping your leg in place and a little more.
You finally looked at him and fuck did you look delicious. A hint of embarrassment disappeared under a sharp glint. The determination on your face was different. You didn't want to be deflowered. You wanted him. You wanted Buggy.
"I like you," you rushed to say, "I want to make this good too. I want you to feel good."
Oh you sweet, sweet thing. He fell forwards and clumsily reconnected with his dick after a few thrusts failed to find the right spot on his pelvis.
Curled over you and caging you beneath his body, Buggy cooed.
"Yeah? You want me to feel good? You're doing such a good job. You're taking this so well and I'm gonna-" he gulped loudly, "I'm gonna feel real good soon, okay?"
You moaned softly and nodded while his voice and sweat dripped onto your body.
The restraint it took for Buggy to not screw you senseless had his abdomen in knots. He grinded against you hard, rather than pistoning to the finish line. Extra friction from his hand and a shaky request for you to cum on him was more than enough.
Your legs shook and clamped against Buggy's sides. Your knees dug into his ribs and he had to decide whether to use the discomfort to encourage or restrain his own pleasure. He groaned loudly and willed his orgasm to hold off just a little longer.
He talked you through your ecstasy, telling you to keep going, to enjoy it, that you deserved it, that he needed to see you fall apart for him. And the moment strength started to leave your legs, Buggy pulled out.
The condom was nearly too slippery for his trembling fingers to pull off, but he managed. Using the lubrication left behind from the rubber and, more importantly, your body, Buggy stroked himself.
His cock was leaking heavily, sending drops of precum all over your stomach. The first stream of cum came out before he could register that it was happening. The second, third, and however many others were heralded with whiny moaning.
Even though he knew that his balls were being emptied, Buggy felt it all the way in his goddamn toes. He felt like his cum was coming from the innermost depths. Through hazy eyes, Buggy looked at your body and his stomach fluttered at the view. You were coated. You were marked.
Buggy exhaled with a shudder.
You were blissed out and watching him with stars in your eyes.
It’s all fun and games at the haunted carnival until Buggy dares you to run from him through it. You'd better run as fast as you can because if he catches you, he’s gonna have fun with you.
I'm so glad I was able to finish this before Halloween.
You’d never seen Buggy’s carnival like this.
It was the dead of night. Colder than a grave and twice as silent when you pushed through the warped iron gates.
The sign overhead groaned in the wind, each bulb flickering like it was struggling to remember how to shine. Fog hugged the ground in swirling, ghostly blankets, swallowing your boots and licking at your ankles with every step.
You tried to ignore the way it seemed to slither up your calves like a living thing.
Tried to ignore the feeling that you were being swallowed up, too.
The midway stretched before you, empty and vast and yet entirely too alive for a place that was supposed to be abandoned. You could make out the silhouette of the Ferris wheel: a broken halo against the cloudy sky. It every so often lurched into motion with a wet, metallic whine.
The horses on the carousel moved as well, turning slow and stately in a lazy circle, their chipped paint catching the light of a single flickering red bulb.
None of the music played, not even a warped note, but you could swear you heard the faint sound of some high pitched laughter. It was manic and echoing in the spaces between the rides.
You pulled your coat tighter around your shoulders, as if that could guard you from the feeling of eyes crawling up your back.
Dammit Buggy…
You told yourself you weren’t scared. That you’d come here because you needed answers.
Because you were tired of running, tired of dreaming about him, tired of wondering what might happen if you ever found yourself alone with Buggy, truly alone, with no one and nothing to get in the way.
You told yourself you’d come to just talk to him...
Yeah…that’s it.
Just talk.
You didn’t believe yourself for a goddamn second.
You kept walking, each step crunching over old, trampled popcorn and stray ticket stubs. A ring toss stand slumped to your left, the shelves of glass bottles all toppled, stained, and shattered.
The air smelled like burnt sugar and old blood.
You paused beside the Fun House entrance, painted faces frozen in shrieks and wide, greedy grins, and looked up at the string of lights snaking along the eaves.
They blinked on and off at random, chasing shadows down the wooden boardwalk, making the world stutter in and out of existence.
That’s when you felt it: the static charge, the buzz of adrenaline in your veins. Like the moment right before lightning strikes.
“Welcome to my domain, Dollface.”
You whirled around.
No one was there.
Just the echo of his voice, stretched thin and high as a violin string, skittering across the empty midway. You could practically feel his smile, the way it stretched wide and liked to show too many teeth.
“Buggy?” you said, hating how breathless you sounded. “If you wanted to talk, you could’ve just—”
“BORING!”
You spun again, eyes darting to the shooting gallery, the milk bottle pyramid, the black mouth of the Tunnel of Love. Nothing but shadows and fog and the hum of electricity in the air.
“Get out here, will you?” you snapped, though your heart hammered so hard you worried it might crack a rib.
No answer.
Just the squeal of the Ferris wheel spinning up again, each car swinging, and the chains rattling. You looked up, searching for movement, but the wheel was empty of riders.
His voice slithered out from the dark, curling around your ears, impossible to pin down.
“Wanna play a game?”
He truly was everywhere and nowhere, and that was what creeped you out the most.
You tried to keep your breathing steady.
“You always make it a game,” you said, hoping he couldn’t hear the tremor beneath your words.
“That’s what I do.”
Another giggle, this one bursting from inside the House of Mirrors.
The laughter bounced between the glass panels, multiplying, folding in on itself until it was a mad chorus of clowns with his likeness.
You stepped closer, peering into the doorway. The lights flickered to life above you, each bulb sputtering and popping, showering you in a rain of red sparks.
You couldn’t help it: you smiled and let out a small giggle.
Just a little one.
Only Buggy could turn a cesspool of doom like this into almost like a theater or his own playground.
Only Buggy could make a threat sound like a come-on.
Hmmm…Maybe it was…
“I’m not afraid of you,” you called into the Fun House.
Your voice echoed back: not afraid, not afraid, not afraid.
The laughter stopped. For a second, you thought he’d vanished, that maybe you’d imagined it all.
Then you heard him: one, two, three footsteps behind you, slow and deliberate. You froze, forcing your hands to unclench.
You didn’t run, even when every part of you screamed that you should.
His shadow fell over your own.
A disconnected gloved hand snaked out, tracing the edge of your jaw, soft and unhurried. He leaned in so close you could smell the greasepaint and the hint of rum.
It was like the sweet-sick tang of fear.
His mouth ghosted against your ear as he whispered:
“Don’t be scared, sweetheart. The real fun’s about to start.”
You swallowed hard, not trusting yourself to speak.
His touch lingered for a moment, long enough to make your skin crawl with anticipation and slight wanting before he slipped away again.
He was there, and then gone, like a magic trick.
The carousel suddenly jerked to life behind you, spinning faster, the horses rising and falling in time with the thump of your pulse.
You watched the shadows race across the painted canvas, watched the blur of color and motion and light. You thought you saw his face reflected in the mirrors, in the glass eyes of a carousel horse, grinning and wild and hungry.
You didn’t move. Couldn’t.
You were part of the carnival now, just another attraction, and Buggy was the only visitor who mattered.
Every nerve in your body braced for the next move, for the punchline you knew Buggy was winding up to deliver.
You spun slowly, scanning the shadows for any sign of him, feeling your own heartbeat thudding in your throat.
Then, just as the carousel slowed to a shuddering halt, you saw him.
Buggy stepped out from the shadows beneath the Ferris wheel, his face bathed in the blood-red glow of a dying bulb. The greasepaint around his mouth was smeared, the blue ponytail messier than usual, and he wore that signature pirate captain’s coat with the collar turned up high.
His lips stretched delightfully, his green eyes burning with wild, unfiltered joy.
For a second, you couldn’t move.
He had that effect, a gravitational pull that froze you in place. You told yourself it was fear, but the heat curling low in your belly said otherwise.
He stalked forward, slow and deliberate, letting the silence hang until it hummed between your ears.
“You know the rules, right?” he called, his voice dropping an octave into a gravel, teasing at your boundaries.
You swallowed, feeling the taste of copper on your tongue.
“Uhhh…Why don’t you explain them to me?”
He laughed, loud and reckless, and every marquee bulb on the row behind him flared to life, framing him in a halo of devilish light.
“It’s simple, sweetheart,” he said, voice rolling with laughter and threat. “You run. If I catch you—”
He let the words dangle, stepping closer, the glint of his boots flashing through the haze.
He smiled, flashing that wide row of teeth. “If I catch you, I fuck you. Right here. Doesn’t matter who’s watching.”
The words landed hard, echoing in your skull, and you had to clench your fists to keep from shaking.
You felt every muscle coil. You felt the primal urge to bolt while also being at war with the raw, dangerous desire to stay put and call his bluff.
He watched you for a long, terrible moment, studying your reaction like he was cataloging every tiny flinch.
He wanted you to be scared, and he wanted you to like it.
You hated how well he knew you and how it was working.
He took another step, hands out and open, as if welcoming you to his personal hell. His eyes, was smeared with triangles of blue plaint, bored into yours.
“You got a head start,” he whispered, his voice so low it was almost tender. “Don’t waste it.”
A gust of cold wind tore through the midway, making the banners whip and the carnival lights rattle. You saw his grin widen as the fog billowed around him, eating away the edges until he was little more than a painted specter.
You stared him down, breath hissing through your teeth. “What if I don’t want to be caught?”
His laughter exploded, bouncing from every booth and tent. “Then you better run fast, babe.”
And then, just like that, he vanished.
The lights blinked out, the world snapped back to darkness, and you were alone again.
Alone again with the threat, the promise, the certainty that he was already on the hunt.
Your knees trembled, but your heart hammered even louder, a wild symphony of anticipation and dread.
This was the game. This was always the game.
And you were ready to play.
One…
Two…
You didn’t wait for the count of three.
You suddenly ran, full tilt, legs pumping through the slick, uneven planks of the midway.
Every breath tore at your throat, every heartbeat a drumbeat in your ears. The fog made it impossible to see more than a few feet ahead, but you barreled through anyway, fueled by the primal certainty that he was somewhere behind you.
He was chasing, hunting, and grinning with that unhinged smile.
The rides loomed on either side, shadowy and monstrous, every surface dripping with dew and dust. You veered left, toward the spinning teacups, thinking the maze of metal and plastic might buy you time.
As you ducked behind the nearest cup, something cold and wet wrapped around your ankle.
You screeched and looked down just in time to see a disconnected gloved hand, severed at the wrist, digging its fingers into your boot. It scraped at your skin before you were able to shake the hand off, Buggy’s laughter echoing from all sides.
You kicked free, stumbling, then kept running.
The path twisted, slanting toward the games of chance. The bottles on the ring toss had been set up again, every single one bearing a tiny, painted-on Buggy face.
You didn’t stop to stare, but you felt their eyes follow you as you sprinted past.
Something shot out from the Skee-Ball booth: a flash of blue hair and the sharp clatter of a ball rolling at your feet.
You dodged it, barely, and heard his voice crow, “Good reflexes, sweetheart!” from the far end of the row.
You cut right, ducking behind the cotton candy stand. The smell of burnt sugar was stronger here, almost sickening.
The shadow of the Ferris wheel loomed over you, and you risked a glance upward. One of the cars swayed violently, back and forth, and you thought you saw a pair of legs dangling over the edge, kicking in midair.
You blinked and the car was empty again.
The wind howled, flapping the banners and sending loose tickets swirling around your feet. You pushed on, fighting the urge to scream for help.
You knew, deep down, that no one was coming.
And yet you didn’t think you wanted anyone to help.
The House of Mirrors stood dead ahead, its entrance yawning open, lights flickering like dying fireflies. You hesitated. If there was anywhere Buggy could fuck with you the hardest, it was here.
But you had no choice. You dove in.
The world inside was colder, the air thick with your own breath and the metallic tang of your sweat. Every surface reflected a fractured version of yourself.
There were dozens of different versions of your face, all wide-eyed frantic and all alone.
The mirrors were smeared with handprints, some red, some still wet and dripping.
You slowed, trying to move quietly, but the floor creaked beneath every step. You held your hands out, feeling along the walls for the next turn.
Then, in the next mirror, he was there.
His head popped out from the glass, suspended in the air, the eyes rolling wildly before fixing on you.
“Boo!” he shrieked, and you stumbled backward, crashing into another mirror.
The head vanished, only to reappear to your right, then your left, then above you, a chorus of maniacal Buggy faces cackling in surround sound.
You covered your ears, squeezed your eyes shut, but you could still hear him.
A hand clamped down on your shoulder. You whirled, ready to fight, but there was no one there, just the faintest outline of a shadow melting away into the next room.
You followed, legs shaking, vision blurred by panic and sweat.
You broke through the end of the Fun House, chest heaving, and nearly collapsed on the splintered deck outside. For a moment, you just stood there, hands on your knees, gulping air and trying to will your body to stop shaking.
A voice whispered in your ear, so close you felt the tickle of his breath. “Getting tired already, doll? Booooooo! That’s no fun!”
You spun. There was nothing but swirling fog and the faint, sweet scent of rum and his greasepaint.
But you could hear him, just behind you, just beyond reach.
You ran again, through the games row, past the shooting gallery, every booth a gauntlet of potential traps.
The world blurred at the edges; you felt less like a girl and more like a ball in one of Buggy’s rigged games, rolling wherever he wanted, slamming into every obstacle he set up for you.
You tripped, once, over a loop of coiled rope on the ground, and landed hard on your knees. You felt the sting, but ignored it, scrambling back to your feet just as the carousel started up again.
There was no music, just the grind of machinery and the rising, falling horses, their glassy eyes watching you with hungry intensity.
You ducked behind a wooden lion, pressing your back to the cold, painted flank. For a second, the world stilled, your breath the only sound.
Then you felt him: fingers in your hair, winding tight, the blunt edge of his nose pressing against your cheek as he leaned in from behind the horse.
You froze, knowing he could end this now—knowing, on some dark, secret level, that you kind of wanted him to.
It wasn’t a gentle catch or a sly grab. He crashed into you, a force of nature, all lean muscle and wild energy. You hit the nearest carousel horse, the wood biting into your ribs, the chill of the lacquered paint shocking through your thin shirt.
He slammed you flat against the horse’s side, one hand tangled in your hair, the other pressing your shoulder down until you felt utterly, inescapably trapped.
He leaned in, every inch of his body pinning you in place. You could feel the heartbeat in his chest, the ragged edge of his breath as it raked your ear.
His gloves were cold and rough and unyielding, but his voice was a low, hot purr:
“Guess what, sweetheart? You lost.”
You bucked against him, but it was for show. You could have played the prey a little longer, but you wanted this, wanted him, more than you’d ever admit.
You wanted the chase, the violence, the raw, shameless thrill of being caught.
He must have felt it, too, the way you arched into his touch instead of shrinking from it. The way your pulse shivered at his words. He laughed softly this time and loosened his grip, just enough to let his hand wander down the line of your throat, over the thudding pulse there.
The smell of him hit you: sweat and greasepaint, the faint tang of gunpowder, and something else. It was something wild and hungry and electric.
His nose nuzzled against the side of your face, leaving a trail of wet heat as he dragged his tongue along your jaw. You gasped, the sound half pain, half pleasure, and felt his hips grind you.
He shifted his grip, using both hands to spread your arms wide, flattening you against the horse. The chipped paint bit into your skin, but you barely noticed; you were too busy trying to decide whether to fight back or just let him have you.
He made the choice for you.
With a practiced twist, he spun you around, pinning you belly-first against the carousel pole. His hand closed around your wrists, holding them tight together above your head. You felt the bite of his strength and the pure lust radiating off him.
He pressed his body flush to yours, his chest against your spine, his cock already hard and insistent between your legs.
He bent low, teeth scraping your ear as he whispered, “Still want to play, baby?”
You tried to answer, but all that came out was a needy, helpless whimper.
He laughed, a hot puff of air against your skin, and raked his free hand down your side, over the curve of your hip, up under your skirt.
His fingers found you wet and ready, and he moaned, guttural and pleased.
“Look at you,” he murmured. “All that running just got you worked up, huh?”
“Fuck you,” you spat, even as your hips ground into the pole, desperate for friction, for more.
He barked a laugh, a sound so gleeful it almost broke your will.
“That’s the spirit!” He rocked his hips, rubbing his cock along the seam of your ass, making you gasp despite yourself. “You want it rough, babes? You just have to say the word.”
You’d never admit it out loud, not even to yourself, but you did.
Fuck, you wanted it.
You wanted him to take everything, to wring every drop of defiance out of you until all that was left was need.
He must have read the truth in your face. His hand slipped between your legs, finding you soaked and swollen, and he groaned, almost reverent.
You tried to twist away, but his grip was unbreakable. He angled his hips, pinning you tighter, then ground against you in a slow, punishing rhythm.
“Not so tough now, are you?” he taunted, lips pressed to the sensitive spot behind your ear.
All you could do was gasp and arch into his touch.
He nipped at your ear, then slid his hand between your legs, gloved fingers working you through your panties until you trembled.
“I told you, doll. If I caught you, I’d fuck you right here. Doesn’t matter who’s watching.”
He let go of your wrists, but you didn’t move. You couldn’t. You just clung to the cold, lacquered pole, feeling the obscene, hungry throb between your thighs, the shameful thrill of being taken and displayed like this.
He slid two fingers inside you, curling them until you gasped and arched against him. You tried to bite back the moan, but it escaped anyway, raw and unfiltered.
He fucked you with his fingers, slow at first, then harder, twisting his wrist with every thrust. His other hand gripped your hair, pulling your head back so he could watch your face.
“Tell me you love it,” he said, voice thick. “Tell me you love being caught.”
You clamped your lips shut, refusing to give him the satisfaction.
He redoubled his efforts, adding a third finger, stretching you until your knees buckled.
“Say it,” he growled, all pretense of playfulness gone, replaced by a desperate, hungry edge. “Say it, or I’ll make you say it.”
You broke, not from pain or fear, but from the unbearable pressure building inside you. “I love it,” you gasped. “Fuck, I love it. I love when you chase me.”
That was what he had wanted to hear.
Buggy suddenly removed his fingers from inside you, making you feel so empty and on edge from the absence of being able to cum. He made quick work of your clothes, yanking them aside with practiced ease. He moved with an urgency, as if he couldn't wait another moment to be inside you.
His own pants were already undone, and when he pressed against you, you felt the hot, hard, and thick length of him sliding up your thigh.
He groaned your name, all mockery gone, replaced by a hungry, desperate need.
He lined himself up, then drove into you in one relentless, claiming thrust.
The world went white for a moment, the shock of sensation stealing your breath, your thoughts, your will.
“Oh fuuuuuuuuck…”
You felt yourself surrendering completely to the pleasure and the raw, primal connection between you.
He was rough, but you wanted it.
No, you needed it.
You wanted every brutal inch, every sharp, sweet sting. He fucked you like he was still chasing you, never letting you get comfortable, always keeping you off balance.
You clawed at the carousel horse, nails scraping paint, as he slammed into you over and over.
The sound of your bodies, slapping, gasping, the creak and groan of the ride itself, was louder than any noise from that carnival.
He bent you further, one hand in your hair, the other gripping your hip so tight it hurt. His teeth found your neck, biting down just hard enough to leave a mark, and you cried out, wanting everyone and no one to hear.
“Mine,” he growled, rutting into you with reckless abandon.
The world narrowed to the feel of his thick cock pistoning inside you, the greasy scent of carnival paint and the dizzy rush of your own blood in your ears.
He fucked you like he wanted to erase every other touch, every other memory, every other cock that had entered you. You felt the truth of it in your bones, the way his body claimed yours, the way your heart raced not with fear, but with joy.
You clawed at the carousel horse and at your own sanity. Every thrust drove you closer to the edge, every taunt and curse another push toward oblivion.
“Say you’re mine,” he demanded, voice cracking with need. “Say it.”
“I’m yours,” you cried, tears stinging your eyes, your whole body clenched around him. “I’m yours, Buggy. Only yours.”
He hauled you and bent you over the wooden saddle of the carosel horse.
The lacquer was slick with dew, the painted mane stiff and scratchy against your cheek, and every time both of you moved, the whole ride creaked and groaned beneath you. Buggy opened your legs as he wanted you open, helpless, and on display.
You cried out as he continued to fuck you, voice raw and wild, but the sound was drowned by the whine of the carousel’s machinery and the steady, taunting giggles that poured from Buggy’s lips.
“You begged for this the second you ran,” he hissed, leaning over you so his breath was hot on your ear. “Look at you now. So desperate you’ll let me take you right here, where anyone could see.”
The words made you squirm, but not to escape. You arched your back, shoving yourself against him, greedy for the rough rhythm he set. The movement made the horse rock beneath you, the whole world tipping and swaying like you were caught in a fever dream.
He thrust harder, fingers digging into your flesh, marking you as his.
“God, you’re filthy,” he snarled. “And I fucking love it.”
You moaned, high and helpless, clutching the horse’s head for support as he pounded you into the unforgiving surface. Every stroke felt sharper, deeper, like he was trying to etch himself into your bones.
He pulled out suddenly, only to flip you around, lifting you by the waist and slamming you down on the carousel’s wooden platform.
The red bulbs overhead flickered, throwing your shadows across the ride in a strobe of obscene, jerking motion. He spread your legs wide, forcing you to balance on the balls of your feet, and knelt between them, the grin on his face wide and predatory.
He ate you out like he was starving.
The slurping and sucking sounds of his mouth on your pussy were accompanied by the moans and gasps escaping your lips as his skilled tongue brought you closer to the edge.
You heard the animalistic grunts of pleasure coming from him as he tasted you and it made you even wetter.
You couldn’t help the sounds you made. They were loud, reckless, and wanton but you didn’t care.
Let the whole fucking carnival hear.
He rose up, face slick, wild and smeared with paint, and spat out, “You taste like sin, baby. Don’t you dare stop screaming.”
He shoved inside again, impaling you on his cock, and you wrapped your legs around his hips, using his momentum to drive him deeper. He fucked you standing, fucked you against the pole, fucked you so hard you thought the world might spin right off its axis.
He kept talking, taunting, each filthy word a spark that set you burning brighter.
“You’re mine,” he grunted. “All mine. No one else gets you like this, do they?”
You shook your head, eyes squeezed shut, and he slowed his thrusts just enough to make you beg.
“Say it,” he growled. “Say you need me.”
You gasped, clawing at his back, nails scoring through the thin fabric of his shirt. “I need you,” you sobbed, the words pulled from somewhere deep and desperate. “I need you, Buggy, I—”
He cut you off with a brutal kiss, biting your lower lip until you tasted blood.
“Good girl,” he spat, then continued to fuck you so hard the carousel violently shuddered beneath you, its painted horses rearing and plunging in silent applause.
“Buggy…I’m gonna…I’m gonna…”
You came for him, loud and unashamed, and he followed right after, pouring himself into you with a guttural cry.
The two of you collapsed in a heap, tangled and breathless, the world spinning around you in a drunken whirl of light and color.
For a while, there was nothing but the distant hum of the Ferris wheel and the click-click-click of the bulbs overhead. You were still recovering from a double dose of orgasms, boneless and half-dreaming, when he reached into his coat and drew out a knife.
The sight of it gleaming in the light made you tense, every muscle going tight. You didn’t think he’d hurt you, not really, but there was always a chance, with him.
Always a chance the game could tip over into something else.
He saw the way your eyes locked on the blade, the quick flare of panic you couldn’t hide, and smiled slow and sweet.
“Don’t worry, baby. I’m not gonna cut you.”
He turned the knife in his hand, then pressed the flat of it against your white oozed inner thigh. The metal was freezing, a sudden jolt that sent goosebumps rippling up your skin.
He dragged it up, inch by inch, pausing just below your pussy.
You shivered, half from the cold and half from what you knew was coming.
Buggy used the tip to nudge your legs wider, then knelt between them, his painted face a mask of focus and intent. He traced lazy circles on your clit with the handle, teasing you until you were writhing, desperate for more.
“You trust me, right?” he asked, voice uncharacteristically soft.
You nodded, unable to look away from the gleaming knife. “Yes.”
He grinned, then without warning, slid the smooth, hard handle inside you. The stretch was sudden, unfamiliar, and you gasped, clutching at his shoulders for balance.
He fucked you with it, slow and deliberate, watching every twitch of your body, every gasp and whimper.
“Look at you,” he said, almost reverent. “I could do anything to you, and you’d just take it. You’d beg for it.”
You blushed hot, but didn’t deny it. You wanted him, all of him, the madness and the risk and the filthy, impossible joy of being his.
He worked the handle deeper, twisting it, making you gasp and squirm.
“Told you I’d make you mine,” he whispered, lips pressed to your ear. “Every damn way I can, even if it means fucking my cum into you more with this knife handle”
You clenched around the handle, the fullness sending waves of pleasure through your exhausted body.
“Please,” you moaned, not even sure what you were asking for.
He fucked you harder, hand steady and sure, eyes never leaving your face. “Say you want it,” he demanded. “Say you want me to ruin you.”
You didn’t hesitate. “I want it. I want you to ruin me, Buggy.”
He laughed, then kissed you hard, tongue tangling with yours as he pumped the handle in and out, faster and faster.
You came again, this time with a scream, the sensation so sharp and bright it left you dizzy.
He pulled the knife out, then licked it clean from base to tip of the combination of your fluids, eyes glinting with triumph.
“Perfect,” he said, tucking the blade away and pulling you into his lap. “You’re fucking perfect.”
You melted against him, boneless and content, letting him cradle you as the carnival spun slowly around you. The rides had gone silent, the only sounds now the hum of the bulbs and the faint, steady rhythm of Buggy’s heartbeat under your ear.
The carnival had never been this quiet.
You were limp with exhaustion from your double orgasms, while he stroked lazy patterns up and down your spine.
The rides had all stopped, the carousel horses frozen mid-gallop, their glass eyes catching the last, weak flickers of red light. The air was cold and damp, heavy with the aftermath of sweat and smoke and sex.
Buggy cradled you with surprising gentleness, his big hands warming your bare skin. His smeared face nuzzled into your hair. For a long time, neither of you spoke.
The world outside the carnival didn’t exist; it was just you, the clown, and the ghosts of laughter echoing through empty tents.
He was still smug, of course, grinning like he’d just pulled off the best heist of his life. But every so often, when he thought you weren’t looking, you caught him staring at you with a kind of hungry awe, as if he couldn’t quite believe he’d actually caught you. That you hadn’t slipped away into the fog at the last second, like all good dreams do.
You snuggled closer, feeling the thud of his heart under your ear. “You happy now?” you murmured, voice scratchy but content.
He snorted, a sound equal parts delight and disbelief. “Doll, I’ve never been happier in my life. You were made for me, you know that?”
You rolled your eyes, but didn’t move away. “You say that to all your conquests?”
He tilted your chin up, so you had to meet his gaze. The blue around his eyes had run together, pooling in the corners
“I’ve had a lot of obsessions,” he admitted. “But you’re the only one that ever made me feel alive.”
You almost laughed, but then you saw the flicker of something soft in his eyes.
“You’re such a dork,” you whispered, pressing your lips to his painted mouth.
He kissed you back, less rough now, like he was afraid you’d disappear if he pushed too hard.
When you broke apart, the only sound was the slow creak of the Ferris wheel settling in the wind. The bulbs overhead had dimmed to a faint glow, more shadow than light. The world was still.
Buggy wrapped his arms tighter around you, tucking your head under his chin.
“Careful, dollface,” he said, voice low and fond. “You might start running just so I’ll chase you again.”
You grinned, teeth flashing in the gloom. “Maybe I want you to.”
He grinned, the sharpness of his teeth glinting in the red light.
TW: Angst, fluffy, nsfw content, drug mention, drug use, creampie, unsafe sex, public sex (kinda), loss of virginity, cliffhanger
pairing: Levi Ackerman x Reader
other: modern au, The 1975 influence, brief tones of other pairings
From the moment I heard this song, I HAD to make this imagine. It freaking screams Levi and it’s kinda an imagine/blurb. Let me know what y'all think and if I should make any more. Also, I used my own interpretation of the song, I know what the lead singer said but for the sake of this imagine, it’s a bit different.
Levi and his shy, virgin s/o are about to have sex but she gets scared and runs away and Levi chases after her and brings her back to bed. Finally, he is in the middle of making hot, passionate, sexy love to her and she’s about to climax but since she’s a virgin she’s like, “I can’t do it, I can’t do it!” But Levi holds her down and reassures her that she can and gets rougher. The rest is up to you. Can you plz add nsfw and lots of fluff and spice plz?
So I snickered quite a bit at the image of a naked Levi chasing Y/N down the hallway of the castle, not gon lie.😂😂😂😂😂😂
*****WARNING*****NSFW
💜Virgin💜
Never in his life did Levi think he would be chasing his girlfriend down the corridors of the castle, butt fucking naked. He could only thank the Gods that it was well after curfew so no one saw their Captain running after Y/N, cock bobbing in the exposed air.
It wasn’t really that far away from him room when he caught her, but Hanji or even Erwin would never let him live this down if they had found out about it. He clamped a hand down over her mouth and steered her back towards his open door. When he removed his hand, he looked seriously at the naked girl in his arms.
“What the hell, idiot? You want to let the entire castle know exactly what we are trying to do in here?” He asked, his voice low but the sarcasm laced throughout the words.
Y/N shook her head bashfully and chewed the bottom of her lip before meeting his eyes. “I-I’m sorry. I j-just got scared.”
He softened. He hadn’t expected her to freak out when he took his clothes off, but he had know she was a virgin. “Scared of what? This?” He ask, bringing her hand down to cup him.
She gasped at the first contact with his still hard cock, and nodded.
“Don’t be. It might be hard and big right now, but if you were to smack it hard or thump me here,” He slid her hand down to the sacs hanging beneath. “it’ll shrivel up in a heartbeat and I’ll be on the ground crying.” He was exaggerating, but if it made her smile, it was worth it.
She giggled at the idea of the powerful Captain on the ground crying as her fingers turned curious, playing with the loose skin and hefting the rounded sacs in her hands gently. Levi groaned slightly as she explored, turning to lock the damn door behind them again.
He ran a hand up her arm and cupped the back of her head again, pulling her close for another kiss. His tongue ran over the mouth and slipped between her lips, enjoying the taste of her once again. Levi slowly started steering them back towards his bed again, him stopping when her legs hit the back of the mattress.
When they reached the bed, he turned and sat down himself, pulling her along with him. Settling himself in the middle, he lay back, breaking their kiss and folded his hands under his head.
“Explore, Y/N.” He told her, nodding at her questioning gaze.
He left her take her time, not wanting another repeat of earlier, thinking it best that she get used to his body before taking her. He throbbed at the thought of finally being able to push inside her tight little core, but willed himself to behave.
It didn’t take long for her breathing to become heavy as she stroked and petted his skin, her own excitement building inside her. When he finally could take no more of her hands on him, he flipped them over and latched onto her mouth to absorb her surprised squeal.
He busied himself filling his own hands with her curves. His calloused hands cupping her breasts as he nudged his cock against her hip, letting her feel him throb against her flesh. She moaned into his mouth as he pinched both of the hardened peaks. Levi moved down to capture one in his mouth, drawing it into his hot mouth as her hands carded through the strands of his hair. He knew that each pull of his mouth tugging on her nipple was going straight to her pussy, her erotic little mewls letting him know how much she enjoyed it.
He spent forever laving and suckling on both of her pert little breasts, going no father until she was writhing underneath him, pleading for something even if she didn’t quite know what. The tugging on his hair sharp as she became more insistent.
He moved a hand down in between her legs, ignoring the sudden tenseness in them and gently felt her sex. She was slick with desire, making him groan in excitement and relief. Her arousal would help his invasion of her body. While it would be painful, he didn’t want her to have anymore pain than absolutely necessary.
He moved up to capture her lips again, moving over her and spreading her thighs to settle himself between them. He let his cock lay heavy between them, as he paused in his movements until she opened her eyes. They were so close he could see the flecks of gold in her irises, but he ignored absorbing that beautiful detail to wordlessly ask his question.
He wasn’t moving until she spoke and nodded. He would make sure this was truly what she wanted, even if he had to stop and take a cold shower. Never wanting her to regret giving herself to him. When she finally nodded and smiled at him, he moved to guide himself against her entrance and gave her another sweet kiss.
His hips moved forward quickly, sheathing himself fully inside her, breaking through the barrier of her innocence and coming to rest against her back wall. Her cry of pain wasn’t loud, but it still bothered him that he had hurt her. He pressed small kisses to her neck as he waited for her to relax around him and the pain to go away. Little words came out of his mouth between the pecks. I love you and It’s okay, Your perfect were dispersed along with his lips roaming her skin.
When he finally made his way back to her mouth, she kissed him back passionately. He smiled into the kiss, as he felt her begin to move under him. Her previous discomfort gone leaving that unfulfilled ache inside her.
He started to slowly withdraw and push back inside, watching her face as emotions crossed over it. Her brow furrowed when he pulled away, not like the empty feeling he was leaving. Her mouth opened in a soundless moan as he filled her again, the sight so erotic in its purity.
Mindful of her newly tarnished innocence, he kept the pace slower than he wanted. He wanted to just pound into her body until she was shaking and screaming his name, but he knew she was already going to be sore, so a more sedate pace was what was needed right now. After she was used to his size could he really show her the stars beyond.
Still, even with the slower pace, the steady pumping of his cock into her body started building that feeling in the pit of Y/N's stomach, that nagging need for something to happen. It overwhelmed her, drove her to grasp at him, pulling him closer to her, not wanting him to leave her body or stop that feeling for a second.
He felt her tremble beneath him, knew that she was building up to her orgasm. Still, he kept the steady rhythm of his hips, letting it come naturally to her. It wasn’t until she was so close to acheiving her peak that she got scared of the sensations coursing through her.
“I can’t….Levi, I can’t…” She sobbed, so close, but the ache inside her core so overwhelming she wanted to cry. She pushed at his chest, wanting to run away from the feeling.
“You will, Y/N.” He captures her hands and pushes them down into the mattress, holding them there as he started to drive harder into her.
She was so close, she wasn’t going to flee before he could bring her over the edge and make her cum. His hips sped up, snapping insistently into her as he started pounding his cock against her cervix. The force behind the thrust was harder and she was reduced to just sobbing out his name with every drive into her pussy.
She moved her legs, brought them up around his waist as he worked. Tightening them around him to lock him against her, like there was any chance in hell he would leave this moment. He released her wrists and gathered her against him, tucking his head into her neck and her hands flew to his back, her nails digging into his skin as she clawed at him.
With a wail, she finally broke apart. Her core spasmed around him as she felt the bolts of pleasure shoot through her entire body. She undulated against him, arching up as her contractions around his cock continued to milk him through his thrusts. It was perfect, so damn perfect in that moment.
His own release was fast approaching, her virgin body so tight around him he’s surprised he hadn’t already exploded. His thrusts become erratic as he chases that release. When he feels his body tighten, he gives one final push before pulling out of her hot core to jettison his fluids harmlessly on her stomach.
He kisses her again as he reaches beside the bed for the cloth he had put there before they had begun. He ignored her embarrassment as he wiped his cum off of her and kissed her again. Rolling over, he pulled her into his arms to savor the aftermath of their first time together, her first time at all. She lay languidly against him, sighing softly as she ran a gently hand across his chest.
Long minutes were spent in silence before he nudged her up. “Come on Y/N. Soaking in a hot bath will help you not be so sore.”
Y/N nodded as she followed Levi into his bathroom. She was no longer a virgin, but she still had a lot to learn about sex. She grinned. If every time was like that, she couldn’t wait to do it again.
CW: afab!reader. cunnilingus. fingering. dacryphilia. heavy overstimulation. use of toys. sadism. size kink/difference. pussy slapping. exhibitionism. tongue fucking. individual tags will be included.
When naked and vulnerable with him, it’s like an unspoken contract to let Geto do as he pleases with you. He is a monster at this and he knows it. Only feeling a tiny bit of guilt for making you this nervous about your sexual activities with him - knowing that Geto had a thing for displaying himself and what belongs to him in front of the world. He couldn’t NOT share the alluring sight of you, or the prettiest moans and cries that would be eliciting from you throughout the night.
Having you on your back atop his table, your legs on each of his shoulders while his lips press soft kisses all over your pussy - purposely ignoring the part where you needed him most. Geto smirks at the feeling of your fingers wrapping around the loose bun - trying to push him into your sweet spot, it makes chortle.
“Hasty, are we?” Geto snickers, licking between your folds. It was wet and warm, of course it was, but maybe it was the fact that you were naked on his office table that made it feel - oh so different. So much fucking better than every other time.
Your eyes cross as a broken whimper ripples from the back of your throat. Hips bucking into his face in desperate attempts of meeting his relentless tongue - he wasn’t giving you a chance of moving much under him. The taut grip around your thighs as Geto wiggles his head with his tongue out flat on your clit - brushing smoothly over the sensitive bud, he is grinning widely.
It feels so heavenly it makes your head spin and your eyes blur with warm tears. Geto briefly gapes at the cascading tears, the painful twitch of his cock confirms that he liked this. He liked the idea of you crying from feeling too good.
Without thinking, his hand harshly slaps against your cunt, and the moan you let out was shameless. Geto’s lips stretch wider and wider, the grin on his face doesn’t seem to go away as he grinds his palm over your pussy.
“What more can I do to make you cry some more?” He straight up asks, not wanting to play the big role of solving more mysteries with your body.
Dirty fucking bastard. Loves breaking you until you cry and he isn’t subtle about it at all. Sharp nails that drag along the outer parts of your folds as he watches the looks of absolute horror on your face. He leers and chuckles before raising his hand to land a harsh smack on your dripping cunt making your body jerk from the burning sensation.
“You look scared but your pussy is drooling for me,” Sukuna patronizes, his thumb gently circles your clit. It makes his dick harder than brick, how your eyes fill up with tears, and how your lips quiver before you bring a hand to muffle out your cries. Sukuna swears he could cum in his pants from the way you spread your thighs on your own, a silent plea for him to give you more. However, he doesn’t take silent pleas, so he had to punish you for thinking you can get away with that.
Another slap to your pussy that has your eyes squeeze tighter and pussy clench on air, Sukuna growls. His palm cupping your cunt, he rubs the smooth skin over your sweet spot as he watches how your chest rises and falls when you softly moan.
“Don’t feel good too soon, you just offended me,” he scowls, but soon it’s replaced with a wicked grin from the way you began stammering on your endless apologies.
A sudden wetness presses against your pussy, a new mouth that forms on his palm was now latching onto your heat - persistent with the way it was prodding the tip of its tongue and flicking harshly with a speed made to stop your brain from thinking at all.
Stuttering incomprehensives, your back arches and your eyes dip behind your head - unable to think of anything other than the warmth that harshly kisses your cunt. Sukuna coos at the sight, narrowed gaze watching your stiff hands trembling every few seconds, and the way your thighs tense up before you’re bursting into his hand. He smiles as he presses his palm further into you, his unoccupied hand grabs your wrists when you try to push his hand away.
Broken gasps and overflowing tears, it was a perfect image that he makes sure to burn into his memory. His cock strains against his briefs, Sukuna is growling with lust filled eyes but he wants to continue watching you sob from the painful yet pleasureful tongue that continues abusing your clit.
Big and broad hulk of a man, Toji is proud and cocky when it comes to his body. You knew all too well from the way his eyes always carry that glint of mischief when he is stands near you. Completely covering your body with his own, he was fucking huge and he loved that about himself. He loves how small you are compared to him, he feels as though he could pick you by the scruff of your neck just like a kitten.
Toji feels incredible when his long and thick fingers are plunged in your pussy, rubbing against every inch of your inside until you shaking from intense pleasure. The way his big tongue widens as he stretches it out to swirl over your sweet spot, it makes you lose your mind, it feels so damn good.
He could do this for hours, never seeming to hate the feeling of your smooth fold against his mouth or the feeling of your desperate fingers gripping his hair like it’s the only thing that’ll keep you grounded to earth.
His head is enough to keep your legs open, but he goes the extra mile of grabbing the back of your knees and parting you even more for him. For his tongue to reach every corner of your heat, outer or inner, Toji will feel every inch of you. And it almost feels humiliating how much you enjoy the way he manhandles you, but you can’t let that get to your head when the man is growling like a beast in heat as he slurps at your juices. The filthy sounds resounding the hot room, paired with your obnoxiously loud voice as you moan and heave deeply. Writhing in Toji’s hold fruitlessly, his mouth is stuck on your pussy like a damn leech, sucking you into him until you are reduced to nothing but a screaming mess.
Strong like it has been trained all his life, his tongue seemed to be made for licking you clean after he is done with his onslaught on your cunt. He slaps your cunt just to watch how you flinch from over sensitivity.
Gojo - use of toys, fingering, overstimulation.
Having pride in his strength and body was half of Gojo’s personality, meaning that he takes care of himself just enough. Enough to having the softest, most shiniest pale skin ever. The skin that you get to feel on your naked body whenever you’re sprawled beneath him.
The prettiest hands squeezing the plush of your hips as they wander down your body, grabbing your inner thighs as though he was kneading dough. The icy blue orbs that gaze up at your scrunched up face - they make you shudder from the way his intense eyes never leave you as two slender fingers part your slicked folds. He licks a long stripe up your slit, the tip of his tongue landing over your clit and you involuntarily flinch when he flicks the wet muscle.
His lips are soft and delicate against your heat, kissing your cunt fervently, it’s almost like he’s is making out with it.
Which he definitely was.
The silky feeling of his fingers entering your sloppy walls and pushing against the buzzing toy that’s been working inside you for the past thirty minutes; you could swear you’d meet your maker on that night.
It was too much, but you craved for more, pushing yourself past your limit just because of the proud grin he gives you after you break out a fourth orgasm - even when you wept that you couldn’t cum anymore. Having had a taste of you for the night, he pulls out the vibrating toy - leering at the cream dripping from it. Gojo was so sure that it was the last round for you, but he can’t help the wild thought of pushing you over your limits once again. So he presses the weak toy over your clit, chuckling at the yelp breaking out from you; it was wet enough with your juices to be easily dragged around, so he rolls and grinds it with his big hand as he watches in amusement how you gasp for air.
“I thought you were tougher than this? C’mon now, don’t disappoint me.”
CW: NSFW // fingering, bondage, mentions of oral sex, penetrative sex, and slight anal, mentions of creampies, dirty talk, Daddy Zoro, Mean Dom Kid
———
Luffy:
The hardest part about fingering you is not going down on you. It’s quite rare that he sticks his fingers between your legs without lapping at your folds mere seconds later. But on the occasions he does simply finger you, it’s to tease you. There’s a part of you that’s always hoping this side of Luffy doesn’t come out, and there’s another part of you that’s always hoping it does, the side that throws you on the bed, ties you up face down, and slides his finger up and down your aching cunt, from clit to ass, telling you how his favorite thing in the world is when you cum but refusing to let you do so, only ever slipping one finger inside you at a time and always pulling it out when you start to clench around him. When Luffy decides to finger you, it’s a long night.
Zoro:
Daddy Zoro fingers you for your own good. At least, that’s what he tells you. He’ll never admit that sticking just his pinky finger into your little hole and feeling the tightness around his smallest digit makes his cock throb harder than it ever has before. He’ll never admit it’s the first thing he thinks about in the morning, before even thinking about getting himself off. He’ll definitely never admit that he now gets hard when he eats and gets sauce on his fingers because it reminds him of your desperate princess cunt. He’ll only ever tell you it’s for your own good. How else is his fat cock going to fit inside you? And if his cock is inside of you, his fingers might just wind up in your mouth. Probably his favorite thing about fingering you is the way he can use his fingers to push his bodily fluids, be it spit or semen, inside of you.
Sanji:
He’s the absolute best at fingering you, hands down. He’s almost religious in the way he goes about it, too. After all, his hands are precious to him, and so is your pussy. Putting the two together is a spiritual experience as far as he’s concerned. He takes it very seriously, always making sure whatever door the two of you are behind is locked, and taking plenty of time to kiss you like you deserve and worshipping your tits. He can work you to the brink of orgasm just by playing with your nipples, though he’s never content just to do that. The first time he slipped his hand into your panties, he came in his pants, and though he’s managed to build up a resistance since then, there’s still nothing better than sliding his fingers into your cunt and feeling you melt into him, especially considering he can focus solely on your pleasure when he does.
Ace:
Fire Fist Ace has one filthy mouth. Everyone knows it. Even for a pirate, he’s notorious. When the Whitebeard Pirates make port, the girls are always gossiping about what the handsome young pirate said to them after a bottle of sake and some heavy kisses. But only you know the true depths of it. He’s always throwing his weight around, pinning you against a wall or down on the mattress, crowing you with those broad shoulders and that big chest, pushing your legs apart and shoving first one, then two long, thick fingers into your tight pussy, his hot lips on your ear the entire time telling you that your pussy is his, that he’s the only one who gets to touch your cute little clit, that when he makes you cum (and he most certainly will), you’re going to get on your knees and thank him properly. And that you do, night after night, the two of you always fucking for the final round (or two).
Sabo:
How many times has he slipped his hands under your skirt and gotten you off when there’s someone nearby or within earshot? Neither of you have any idea because it happens so often. He pushes two fingers right into you and thumbs your clit every time, working an orgasm out of you like it’s nothing, biting his lip as he studies the flush that appears on your face and often brushing you off if you try to reciprocate the pleasure. He always grins when you give him that panicked look that says you’re about to cum and you’re worried someone might hear, his favorite part being the way you hang onto him as you do as if he’s going to protect you. The way you cling to him afterwards as you recover from your orgasm only makes it so much better for him. He’ll never stop doing it.
Law:
He actually didn’t have a lot of experience when you two first started fooling around, but he his hands were always one area where he felt exceedingly confident. It came naturally to him, rubbing you through your panties until your wetness was soaking through, pushing the fabric to the side to stroke your warm folds, sliding his fingers into your tight hole and promising it’ll be his cock next. It’s like second nature to him, to the point he’ll start doing it without fully realizing. If you sit in his lap, his hands will start creeping up your thighs, and the next thing you know, you’re tossing your head back and holding on for dear life while he fingers you with one hand and squeezes your tits with the other. He gets off to the sense of control it gives him, relishing how he can make you squirm with just a stroke of his thumb and the way you squeal when he jams a finger up your ass.
Kid:
Honestly, you need to stop whining. He’s doing you a favor. Yes, somebody might see you completely naked and exposed (he’s still completely clothed, of course) on the deck of the Victoria Punk in broad daylight. And yeah, it’s embarrassing how wet you are, so embarrassing he doesn’t even stop you from hiding your face. But he’s doing you a favor by stuffing his thick fingers in your cunt, stretching you like a cock (a regular sized cock, at least, not a Eustass Kid sized one). He doesn’t even touch your clit until you’re on the brink, and then he thumbs it mercilessly. And don’t think for a second your mean dom boyfriend won’t laugh at you when he pulls his fingers out and finds them coated in your cream, telling you that if you’re that desperate you should follow him back to his cabin to get fucked properly. You don’t hesitate to do it, trailing after him like a puppy.
———
Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!
I may have smoked again and thought of more nasty shit to write.
Sanji would take his time eating you out, sucking your clit and gently fingering until you’re writhing and leaking all over his hand until you finally come on his face.
THEN he’d fuck you carefully but with enough force and precision that every stroke lands against your already swollen g-spot. You come so many times that you lose count, but you don’t squirt that time because he won’t let you.
Zoro?
Zoro on the other hand is take his place and immediately dive in. You barely have time to adjust to the weight of his bulk pressing you down into the mattress coupled with him gracelessly grinding himself into your wetness.
Sanji left you just sensitive enough to still crave more and it’s obvious by the way you cant your hips toward Zoro’s. One moment you notice he’s aligning himself with your entrance but then you’re filled so hard and fast with a cock that’s too noticeably thicker than Sanji’s which was saying something because he definitely wasn’t small.
The burn is unexpected and makes you yelp and Sanji reached over to slap Zoro in the back of the head and yells for him to be gentle.
Zoro yells back for him to shut up, he knows what he’s doing.
And he proves himself right by fucking you hard and deep until you’re screaming and clinging to Zoro with arms and legs while he makes you squirt with every stroke until you’re literally drained dry and unable to move.
Sanji had been losing his shit the first couple seconds, thinking Zoro was hurting you until he realizes your screams were of pleasure and not pain.
And Zoro, being the petty bitch that he is yet still a gentleman, will towel you dry, then himself before throwing it at Sanji’s head while asking you to tell him that he wasn’t hurting you.
You assure Sanji but call them both petty bitches.
I may have smoked again and thought of more nasty shit to write.
Sanji would take his time eating you out, sucking your clit and gently fingering until you’re writhing and leaking all over his hand until you finally come on his face.
THEN he’d fuck you carefully but with enough force and precision that every stroke lands against your already swollen g-spot. You come so many times that you lose count, but you don’t squirt that time because he won’t let you.
Zoro?
Zoro on the other hand is take his place and immediately dive in. You barely have time to adjust to the weight of his bulk pressing you down into the mattress coupled with him gracelessly grinding himself into your wetness.
Sanji left you just sensitive enough to still crave more and it’s obvious by the way you cant your hips toward Zoro’s. One moment you notice he’s aligning himself with your entrance but then you’re filled so hard and fast with a cock that’s too noticeably thicker than Sanji’s which was saying something because he definitely wasn’t small.
The burn is unexpected and makes you yelp and Sanji reached over to slap Zoro in the back of the head and yells for him to be gentle.
Zoro yells back for him to shut up, he knows what he’s doing.
And he proves himself right by fucking you hard and deep until you’re screaming and clinging to Zoro with arms and legs while he makes you squirt with every stroke until you’re literally drained dry and unable to move.
Sanji had been losing his shit the first couple seconds, thinking Zoro was hurting you until he realizes your screams were of pleasure and not pain.
And Zoro, being the petty bitch that he is yet still a gentleman, will towel you dry, then himself before throwing it at Sanji’s head while asking you to tell him that he wasn’t hurting you.
You assure Sanji but call them both petty bitches.
Gruff hands grab at your thighs and pull you down causing your legs to dangle off the bed. In no time his head is deep in between your legs. He looks up at you and gives you a cute, angelic smile before his slimy tongue slips out of his mouth. In an instant his mouth is against your folds, nose deep on the ridge of your clit while his tongue plunges deep into your gummy walls. His hunger is ravenous. He inhales through his nose while his mouth is busy, not once lifting his head to take away take from his meal. Lots of slurping, sucking, and gulping when he’s eating out your pussy. His arms squeeze around your torso tightly, not allowing you to move an inch. “Stoppp squirming~ ‘m hungryyy~” He came to eat and that’s exactly what he’s gonna do. He’s not letting you go until you cum at least three times on his tongue. Even then his hunger knows no bound, he’ll go until he’s locked jaw and his boxers are soiled with his own cum.
You just taste so good. He can’t get enough~
Zoro’s a fucking tease~
-“Feel good don’t it~? Sounds like it does~”
Zoro speaks in between long, wet, licks. His meaty tongue sinks in between your folds ever so slightly and starts out quick, but once he comes up to your clit he takes his time. Painstakingly so. Short and spaced out licks land on your bundle of nerves and then when you least expect it he’ll dive straight in and start sucking on it intensely. His large hands hold your thighs in place so you can’t squirm away while you lull out in pleasure. He moves away from your clit and extends his tongue as far as he can into your pussy, it swirls around collecting and sucking up your juices. You’re almost to your limit and Zoro knows it. So he pulls away, a trail of your juice and his saliva connecting his tongue to your pussy “Hmm tasty~” He’ll chuckle and look at you with an all knowing smirk. “What… where you about to cum..? Hmm I’ll just have to go back in for seconds then~”
He loves to edge you with just his tongue~
Sanji savors his meal~
-“Thank you for the meal, Mon amour~”
Soft, slow, and gentle kitten licks and kisses trail gently down your stomach until they reach your soaking core. He inhales your scent, softly groaning at the delicacy as his thumbs gently pull apart your folds. His tongue laps at your juices softly, taking in the wetness on his taste buds and imprinting your taste into his mind. He loves it. It’s unlike anything he’s ever tasted and he’s infatuated with your cunt juice. But he’s not a glutton; he takes his time eating you out. Small licks, gentle sucks on your clit, and takes in mouthful after mouthful of your pussy slowly. If you end up cumming he takes his time using his tongue to clean you up and drink up his reward.
You’re just so divine, he has to savor you~
Ace gets pussy drunk~
-“Hmm~ I need ya sugar~ com’ere”
Ace often wakes up with a need to taste you. He’s already under the covers and between your thighs. He lazily scrapes your panties to the side before diving in. His tongue roughly and wildly scraps against your entrance a few times before he parts your folds plunging his face in between your pussy lips. Ace practically melts on your cunt; his tongue curling and twisting inside your entrance, a thumb lazily flicking your clit, and his other hand begins to palm himself through his boxers. “Mmm~ So good~” He can’t help but moan into your pussy at the taste of you. He laps up your juices with lewd and loud slurps, sucks, and licks. He buries himself in between your thighs lulling on your cunt like a lollipop, your juices soaking into his taste buds like a delicious sweet. After you reach your climax all over his tongue he greedily dives back in for another round. He just can’t stop, no matter how sensitive you are.
He craves your pussy
Sabo’s a freak~
-“Sit on my face.”
Without much of an explanation, Sabo’s arms wrap around your waist and brings your body down and clit on to the ridge of his nose. No hovering; He holds your waist down tightly to his mouth. You can feel his short breathes against your clit and while a large smile forms against your pussy lips. He simply watches your pussy from this angle for a while. His hands not letting go of you and you can’t move an inch. Without warning he pulls you down farther, smothering his face in between your cunt. The pleasure hits you like a rocket and you aren’t sure if he can even breathe anymore. He’s sure having his fill, his tongue goes wild against your pussy, licking, sucking and frantically slurping up your juices. He doesn’t let you move from off of him, in fact his fingers sink deep into your waist lightly scratching you as a warning. He rocks his head against your cunt, giving your clit stimulation from his nose rubbing against it. Because of his wildness you feel yourself squirt as you reach your climax. Sabo smirks allowing you to lift off of him just a little bit as your juices soak his face. You’re beyond embarrassed but the blonde just stares up at you with a knowing smile as he licks his damp lips and face. “Delicious~”
What more can he say? He just gets a little feral when he gets to taste your juices~
Law plays with his food~
- “You want more than just my tongue don’t you~? Such a naughty pussy.~”
Right there. In between the ‘D’ and ‘H’ in the word ‘Death’ tattooed on his fingers. Spells none other than ‘eat’, and boy do his fingers know how to devour he has two fingers knuckle deep inside of your cunt, twirling around and tapping along your gummy walls. Every now and again he’ll pull them out with a lewd ‘pop’ and give them a soft gentle lick. “Hmm~ you’re sweeter than usual today~”. He’s such a dirty talker. He thrusts his fingers back in without any warning causing you to squirm a little. “Stay still.” He commands giving your bottom a smack. While his fingers thrust into you, he bends over and gives your clit some attention with his tongue. Lightly sucking on it and rolling it around his tongue. you can feel the small, cold metal piercing clink against your clit which adds to the pleasure. Your juices taste delicious against his tongue and his fingers and tongue switch places. Now his fingers are rubbing circles in your clit while his tongue thrusts in and out of you; drinking up your juices with nothing but primal urge. It doesn’t take long before you cum undone onto his tongue in which he drinks it all up, softly pulling away once he’s satisfied. He even goes so far as to lap up the rest of your juices on his finger and pops it in his mouth.
He knows how to work his fingers; from his devil fruit to the bedroom~
Eustass Kidd loves to bring you to tears
-“What? Can’t take anymore slut~? Isn’t this what you wanted~?”
As obnoxious as Kidd is, he sure knows how to get you to scream out on his tongue. He smirks deviously as his tongue edges in and out of your walls. He’s holding you down onto his face while his hands grip your bottom. His hands practically claw and dig into the side of your ass, not allowing you to get away from him. “ ‘s too much? Slow down? You beg and whine for it all day but can’t take it~?” Kidd laughs as his overstimulation and frantic tongue practically brings you to tears. You’ve already came three times and he won’t let you go, the pleasure is too much; You’ll know to think twice before asking him to do anything for you. “Too bad. I’m enjoying myself now~” He chuckles into your pussy before going back in. Your hands claw at his legs for dear mercy but the pain only drives him further. He sucks at your labia before plunging his tongue inside of you and thrusting wildly as if it was his cock. Even as you cum for the fourth time in an hour he shows no signs of stopping, even licking your hyper sensitive clit as you cum and scream out his name.
