I wanna fuck ghostface so hard that he blacks out or passed out from the sheer feeling of pleasure and pain. 😭😭😭
Hell yeah. Same thoughts. 18+ TOP READER
Ghostface’s knees buckled, his legs consistently trembling while his hands scrambled around the mattress for purchase. The cheek of his mask was firmly planted against the sheets, finding himself unable to look back at you without interrupting himself.
“Oh God! Oh God—hnngh, right there!”
He punched out a moan, relishing in the way your thick cock ruthlessly carves an imprint on his slick-graced walls. His feet were on the ground, his upper half on the bed, and his ass raised to you. Your hands gripped his hips, forcibly prompting him to fuck himself back on your dick in time with your thrusts.
“Yeah? Right here?” You ask, pulling out enough to allow him to feel the threat of you leaving his entrance before you roughly bottom out and hit his sweet spot, earning yourself a high whine. One of your hands reach up, grasping his nape and pushing him down. Making him take it.
Ghostface can barely breathe, weak gasps barely managing to leave his agape mouth. You were fucking him like you hated him, his obscured face uncomfortably digging harder into the soft bedspread.
It hurt. Hurt so good.
Your hips were meeting with his backside with audible smacks, accompanied by a force that’ll surely cause him to become terribly sore. He clenches around your cock with a whimper, heat rushing to his gut, a climax rapidly approaching him.
It was dizzying. It was electrifying, and he was so horny. The killer groans out, long and broken, his mind momentarily numbing. He’s so close, his wet dick beginning to throb, and he can feel himself right—
Ghostface suddenly becomes limp, his hips subconsciously bucking forward as his pretty slit spits out his messy release.
pairing: ghostface & pyramid head x reader
tags: threesome, spit roasting, degradation
a/n: in light of 2v8 ending, here's a small blurb for the dbd fans :3
"Don't you think it's funny?" Says Danny's distorted voice under his mask.
You look up at him from your position with teary eyes, your only answer being a choked hum, as your mouth is currently occupied by his cock thrusting deep into your throat. "How the rest of your teammates are working hard to get out of here- mhmf," a low whine escapes his throat, "and all you're doin' is getting fucked by the killers?"
You roll your eyes, breathing deep with your nose and letting him reach impossibly deeper into your mouth.
He chuckles, then adds. "Well, maybe you're working hard too, the only reason we don't go out there and kill everybody is because of that tight pussy and cute little mouth."
Behind you is Pyramid Head, holding the sides of your hips with an iron grasp and splitting your pussy open with his monster cock. Your pussy flutters everytime his hips tilt against your asscheeks and hits that sweet spot inside of you. If it wasn't for these two holding you, you would've collapsed from the overstimulation already.
You had Ghostface's cock gagging you and Pyramid Head's cock fucking you from behind inside the killer shack. Your teammates were outside repairing the insane amount of generators, probably confused because no one is trying to kill them, while you were enjoying yourself with the ones supposed to slash them up.
You couldn't care less, though. Not when you were experiencing hot-white pleasure from being filled in both holes at the same time. Your cervix is being bullied by the tip of Pyramid's cock and your mind is being mashed into nothing but a moaning mess with Ghostface's words.
"Such a good girl for us, don't you think?" Danny speaks directly to Pyramid Head, holding your hair in his gloved hand and yanking you off him. You take the opportunity to take a deep breath. You're a mess, spit and tears wetting your face and dripping on the old wooden floor.
Pyramid doesn't answer, obviously, he just continues pounding your pussy and enjoying the wet sound it makes. Ghostface tsks.
"Are you a good girl, baby?" This time he adresses you. You can feel his intense stare behind the pitch black holes from his mask.
You nod, whimpering a hoarse 'Yes'.
He lets out a dark chuckle. "Oh-hoho, no, babygirl," Danny shakes his head, petting your chin like you would pet a dog. "Good girls don't get fucked by monsters, do they?"
Your hair gets pulled hard and you whimper. Danny takes the hunting knife next to him and caresses your wet cheek with the sharp tip. The cool metal mixed with the sudden fear alert shooting from your brain and the sharp pleasure from Pyramid behind you gives you gooseebumps.
"Answer," demands the man in front of you.
You shake your head.
"Exactly, that's what sluts do..." He drops the knife and grabs his cock by the base, starting to pump his gloved fist up and down in front of your mouth. The sight so tempting you just want to taste him again all over your tongue.
"Are you a slut, baby? Are you our slut?" Distorted grunts and whines escape from Danny's voice modulator.
And as he asks you such deliciously degrading question, Pyramid's pace starts to increase and become more erratic, hitting your g-spot nonstop with such agression that tears start forming at the corners of your pretty eyes.
"F-Fuck, yes, yesyesyes, I'm your slut- oh my God don't stop!"
Everything is too much. You don't recall what happens exactly after you cum all over Pyramid Head's cock and Danny bursts his warm seed all over your face. But you can faintly hear Dwight's voice somewhere near you mumbling "What the fuck..." and then screams of horror.
As you close your eyes on the hard floor of the killer shack, Pyramid Head grabs an old blanket laying around and covers your naked body. For a serial killer and an otherwordly monster, they are kind with you during aftercare.
Can u do pyramid head fucking n overstimulating reader in a headlock?
Like his arms are fucking massive so imagine how good it’d feel to have one around your throat while he absolutely rails you😭
Headlock
Cw: smut, overstimulation, creampie, headlock, tell me if I missed any.
You struggled against him, nails digging into his arm forearm, wailing out in pure bliss. You jerked forward with every hard thrust of Pyramid Head’s thick cock, his bulbous head ramming against your spongy cervix. He held you still, his strong arm curving over your neck with a vice. He never faltered even as he drove in and out of you, standing still on two muscle-bound legs that you doubted would buckle under his fast and rough pace.
The veins that ran from the base, over the fat middle of his cock and to the tip felt heavenly with the slight curve upwards, rubbing your spongy walls. You rolled your hips, legs kicking wildly under you while you squirmed, crying out for him for something. You didn’t know anymore, one second you’d be craving his cock, drooling and moaning for more, and the other second, you’d beg for him to stop, plead your case from your soft and tender cunt.
Your cunt pulsed, a loud beat that echoed in your head, it throbbed with a striking warmth, almost painful but never hurting. You came one too many times, slick dripping down heavy balls and his sculpted thighs. He proudly growled in your ear, hips slapping against your ass with loud, wet sounds. He revelled in your cries and mewls, your begging only egged him on to fuck you.
“Please! T-too much!”
He loved the sound of your voice, the high squeaks and your broken voice. You were his drug, something he couldn’t get enough of. It left him wanting and wanting, there was always more he wanted to have. The difference between you both was something he salivated at, that made his cock grow hard and leaky, your soft and round limbs, your shorter stature and your weaker strength. It played on his instincts, it attracted him to the more vulnerable.
His chest rumbled with a soothing growl, still thrusting with an erratic pace and a throbbing cock. He breathed out in short puffs, arm tightening around you as fast as your walls tightened around him, milking him for all his worth for a third time. His balls contracted, his body shaking as he came, slamming into you even as his tip spurted cum, painting your warm walls white with monstrous cum.
You shook, body trembling in his arms, gasping for air as you rode your nth climax, loosing count of the number of times Pyramid Head made you come on his fingers, his tongue and his cock. You couldn’t feel your legs, the loud beat in your ears deafening you to the world and you monstrous lover.
This will be my first time asking someone for something...I'm a little nervous. Also I love what you wrote about Frank, they really made my day!! Can I make a request regarding dbd killers? (You can make any killer you want.) Especially Frank 🏃♂️
It's going to be a bit classic but how would they be with a s/o who is addicted touching. For example,with a s/o who suddenly opens their shoulders and starts kissing their bare skin until she get tired. But if they refuse and stop the reader, with a s/o who gets offended by them and opens her own shoulder and starts kissing it.
(I have a cousin who has this habit and it's pretty funny. Anyway you can add Nsfw if you want, I'll leave that up to you 🏃♂️✨)
Character: Frank Morrison/Legion, Ji-Woon Hak/The Trickster, Albert Wesker/The Mastermind, Danny Johnson/The Ghost Face and Sally Smithson/The Nurse
A/n: Thank you so much for the request and even though it took forever (I'm very sorry 😭) I very much enjoyed writing this and I hope you also enjoy reading <3.
I included a little but nothing explicit smut and it's after the ~~~~~~~
Frank Morrison / The Legion
Frank never really understood why you loved slipping his hoodie off at the end of a hard day just to kiss his bare shoulder so tenderly, but at some point it started just feeling... right.
The first few times he might have instinctively flinched, not used to someone being so gentle with him. But seeing the way your face softened every time you pressed your lips to his skin made his chest ache but in like a good way.
If he ever stops you, either because he's feeling overwhelmed or simply teasing you, Frank would let his hand rest on your arm, pulling you closer.
And then, to your surprise, his lips would find your shoulder instead, pressing a bit of a clumsy but very heartfelt kiss there.
"...There," he’d mumble under his breath, almost shy. "Fair’s fair, right?"
The more you do it, the more he craves it without realizing it himself. Waiting for your kisses at the end of the day and feeling pissed off when you don't do it.
The moment your lips ghost across his shoulder, Frank’s patience wears thin.
His breath hitches as you kiss him again, hands teasing beneath his hoodie. That’s all it takes for his hunger to awaken.
If you dare to continue, he’ll grab your hips, pulling you flush against him with a growl. "You really like doing that, don’t you?"
He shifts your shirt down your own shoulder now, lips on your shoulder with a rough, heated kiss that lingers a bit too long.
His hands roam further as your breathing quickens, and soon enough, you're both tangled, shirts discarded, and all that from one simple kiss.
Ji-Woon Hak / The Trickster
Ji-Woon laps up your attention like honey. Your fingers slipping off his jacket, your lips dragging along his shoulder, it's pure adoration, and he loves every second.
He usually lets you do as you please, basking in the feeling of being worshiped.
But occasionally, just to toy with you, he’ll stop you, grasping your wrists with that much too attractive grin of his.
Instead of leaving you hanging, though, Ji-Woon would lean in close, brushing his lips against your shoulder with deliberate slowness.
"Why should you have all the fun, hm?" he purrs, voice like silk.
He loves making you feel just as weak for him as you make him feel for you.
Every touch you give him feeds his ego, but also ignites something primal in him.
When you trace his shoulder with kisses, Ji-Woon watches you with lidded eyes, his hand already slipping lower on your body.
Sometimes he’ll stop your teasing fingers, smirking before guiding your shirt off your shoulders and returning the favor with hot, wet kisses that leave your skin tingling.
"Such devotion," he hums against your skin. "You deserve to be worshiped too."
Before long, you're both stripped bare, his lips traveling lower, his voice purring sweet filth against your ear as he claims you.
Albert Wesker / The Mastermind
Wesker always watches you with those sharp eyes as you tug his coat from his shoulders and begin planting soft kisses along his skin.
Sometimes, though, his clothing proves annoyingly stubborn, the layers, the tight fit and then you find yourself getting a little frustrated trying to get them off properly.
He watches your struggle with amusement in his eyes, lips twitching ever so slightly at your determination.
After a few moments, with a low chuckle, Wesker steps in, quickly opening up your clothes, peeling the fabric away to grant you full access (at least when he is in the mood to do so).
He pretends to tolerate it at first, letting you think you’re in control, but deep down, your tenderness actual shakes up his careful composure.
If you get too bold, he’ll stop you with a firm hand on your wrist, holding you still as his gaze darkens.
But instead of fully denying you, Wesker leans in, his lips brushing against your shoulder with precision, leaving a heated mark.
"If anyone will indulge in such affections" his voice is dangerously low, "it will be me."
Your kisses are a dangerous game with Wesker ,one you always lose, deliciously so.
As your lips work along his shoulder, he watches you like prey, stopping you with a firm hand just as you begin to crave more.
"Enough," he commands, but only so he can slide your own shirt from your shoulders slow and calculated.
His lips descend onto your exposed shoulder, teeth scraping lightly as he whispers in your ear. "You forget who’s in control here."
And from there, he dismantles you, piece by piece, kiss by kiss, until you're breathless under his total dominance.
Danny Johnson / The Ghost Face
You slipping behind Danny, easing his robe down and tracing your lips over his shoulder? It's the kind of intimacy he secretly craves.
He’d chuckle under his breath, pretending to be unaffected, but his breathing always betrays him.
If he ever stops you, just for the little thrill of watching your reaction, he doesn’t leave you wanting for long.
With a sly grin, he cups your face, shifts your shirt aside, and plants a playful kiss on your shoulder.
"You’re not the only one who can do a little skin to skin" he whispers, eyes almost sparkling.
Danny always makes sure your games end with him holding the upper hand, or at least, making you feel like he does.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Your touches always stir something dark in Danny, a wicked possessiveness.
When you start kissing along his shoulder, he smirks, then halts your hands for a moment, just to flip the script.
Tugging your shirt aside, he sinks his teeth gently into your shoulder, marking you with a satisfied hum.
"Didn’t think I’d let you have all the fun, did you?"
His touches grow rougher, his hands slipping under fabric, fingers roaming freely as clothing falls to the floor, leaving you completely vulnerable to his attention.
Sally Smithson / The Nurse
Sally is delicate. She trembles slightly as you pull down her robe and lay soft, reverent kisses on her shoulder.
Your touch is one of the few sensations that brings her back from the fog of her torment.
Sometimes, though, the vulnerability overwhelms her, and she gently halts your hand, unsure how much she can handle.
But seeing your soft eyes waiting patiently encourages her.
Slowly over time, she gathers courage, and with slightly shaky hands, brushes your shoulder free of fabric, pressing a feather-light kiss there.
"I... I want to give you the same," she whispers, her voice quiet but sincere.
With you, Sally is learning how to give affection as much as she receives it.
When stuck in an endless loop of death and agony, you find comfort in a questionable source.
When you were first spirited away to the Entity’s realm, you could barely cope with your new reality, unable to accept an infinite cycle of dying and revival. Your fellow survivors told you that arriving was similar to entering a ‘grieving period’, mourning the life you once knew, and that eventually you’d accept each stab, slash, and bludgeoning as another part of your new existence. That the excruciating pain inflicted on you would eventually grow to be less agonizing.
“Hey—“
Considering your current situation, you don’t think this is exactly what Laura or any of your other companions had in mind when they promised inevitable acceptance of this new reality.
A sharp sting against your cheek has you blearily blinking up at the figure straddling you, knife digging into your flesh in warning. The strong, overbearing scent of his cologne nearly brings a tear to your eye.
“Sorry, am I not entertaining you enough? Really hurting my feelings here, honey, have you finally lost interest in me?” His voice is dripping with faux hurt, always speaking with words dripped in condescension, but from the way his mask tilts with his head to look down at you, shoulders tensed, you know his words aren’t too far off from the truth. Fucking attention whore.
“Just reminiscing on, ah, good times,” you wince when your shifting aggravates the bleeding wound on your shoulder, courtesy of your thousand times killer. But unlike with your other usual butchers, a part of your trauma riddled brain was able to find comfort in his brutality and continued obsession with you, as if the way he so intimately cut into your flesh actually meant something. So when he huffs a laugh and presses his blade against your clothes until they tear enough to be torn off, your body only relaxes, sinking into the dirt beneath you. If you were even a bit more tender, you would have pressed a kiss against his mask when he enters you with a low groan, knife steadily pressed against your throat, as you stifle a breathy giggle at the thought of this being anything close to soft.
“If you’re feeling nostalgic, you could have just said so. Would have shown you some favourites from my collection,” his knife trails down to your bare stomach, featherlight enough to not cut. You would otherwise think it was gentle, if not for the trail of blood it leaves on your skin.
Trying to focus on the pleasure as your pain fades into a numb throbbing, you scrunch up your eyebrows in disgust, “I don’t want your wank material…”
He punishes you with a particularly harsh thrust that leaves you breathless, “Still pretending you’re not as fucked up as me? Well, we got eternity for you to come around, right?”
You deign to ignore him and close your eyes, his complaints fading into the background. You used to think these acts of intimacy and vulnerability would be reserved for the one you love. You don’t love him. How could you? But these moments of sensuality and something too raw to put into words were close enough.
“God, I love being inside you,” he sighs, tenderly, a hand brushing against your bloodied cheek. It’s laughable that’s he’s acting like you two are lovers, like some sort of sick pantomime of normalcy, but with how sex and violence go hand in hand for him, maybe in his eyes you are. You’ve already seen him act especially cruel to survivors that linger near you too long. Despite having the Entity’s favour, he’s just another hot-blooded, possessive man. “Even after you struggle like a bitch, as soon as I have you on your back, you, hah, become so good for me—because y-you’re mine—“
He really never shuts up.
The blade is placed against your neck again, the killer pressing his masked face against yours, “Say my name.”
“Fuckface—“ you barely let out before hissing when his knife actually breaks skin, “D-danny! Danny, oh my god—“
“I think you might,” he lets out a strained laugh , “be a masochist. Must be why we get along s-so well…”
You resist the urge to tell him to speak properly before trying to talk down to you when a gloved hand finds your breast.
When the sensation of his thrusts began to pull choked moans and whines from you, you find that you almost wouldn’t even mind if he decided to slice your throat open after he finishes. Almost.
Your body arches, shoulder flaring with pain, as your vision is filled with white ecstasy for a moment, pleasure overriding pain. You don’t even notice the knife suddenly planted into the ground next to your head as his own release takes him, hands moving to hold your hips down in a bruising grip.
You simply try to catch your breath for a moment, only somewhat aware of the returning ache of your wounds and the sound of Danny’s pants.
You come to when a flash of light nearly blinds you, blinking to be met with the sight of the killer’s stupid ass camera.
“There’s my buttercup,” he coos, “When you look at me like that it almost makes me feel bad for what I have to do next…”
You were hoping you would have bled out by now for this part.
“Almost.”
Idk what to say about this one. I guess that I apologize to humanity?
Warnings: Violence, Dub Con, Tentacles, Rough Sex
Pairing: The Mastermind (Wesker - DBD) x Reader
Summary: I’m actually obsessed with your dbd headcannons with the fan!reader and the camera🤭
Would you maybe be open to writing more of them? I don’t know which characters you write for, but I would like to request one character to be Wesker if possible. Thanks anyway :)
Notes: I am taking great liberties with how uroboros works & Wesker's personality, so I hope this is good.
Word Count: 582
MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI - THIS BLOG IS 18+
A continuation (of sorts) of [this] post. Essentially, the reader has been in the fog for several months now and has taken an interest in one of the killers. The reader uses their camera that the entity helpfully provided them to take pictures of their favourite killer.
He had noticed you following him early on
Taking his photos, writing down notes, muttering observations to yourself
And he was... flattered, pleased that a pathetic mortal creature such as yourself was able to recognise his superiority
So he allows you to continue without letting you know he knows, watching as you flit about, forgoing the trials, just watching him
You grow bolder, getting closer and closer to get your photos
Until one trial you get too close, and he grabs you
You feel the infection enter your body, like little worms squirming under your skin, you clawed at his hand trying to break free
"let's see how you handle the infection, are you like those other pathetic survivors? Or will you accept the infection and become more."
Tosses you away, you quickly grab your camera and run off
The rest of the trial you try your best to avoid him, but it's difficult it's like he knows exactly where you are, like the infection calls to him
He catches you again, hoisting you up
Your body feels warm, and the infection slithers under your skin
He touches you with his infected hand again, the tentacles slithering over your overheated and sensitive skin
You moan as his brushes against your nipples, them hardening quickly at the attention
"interesting," he grins up at you, "normally the infection would kill one of you survivors, but it's just turning you into a wanton mess"
You moan louder as his tentacled hand moves lower, pressing against your core through your clothes, you can feel the tentacles undulate against you, nearly drawing you to the cusp of an orgasm
"please," you weren't sure what you were begging for, you just knew you needed more.
"hmm, I guess I could indulge you a bit."
He drops you to the ground, quickly pushing you onto your back and shredding your pants off
"though 7 minutes is all I can spare to play with you, so let's make this quick"
A tentacle quickly worms its way into your core, thrusting in an imitation of what you hope his cock is about to do to you
When it withdraws without granting you an orgasm you whine, earning a chuckle from the man above you
"so wet, so willing, so needy"
You hear his belt buckle jingle as he quickly frees his cock
"brace yourself, this won't be gentle"
With that he plunged into you with no mercy, immediately filling you and setting a brutal pace
"oh god, fuck," your moans are loud, louder than they should be given where you are, but you can't find it in you to care when he's hitting all the right spots inside you
He's nearly silent above you as he takes you roughly, just the sound of his heavy breathing and he drags you closer and closer to orgasm
His adjusts his angle and you're seeing stars as he hits the perfect spot, battering it over and over, forcing you over the edge
You clench around him as you come, screaming his name as you do.
His thrusts begin to falter and he finally reaches completion, spilling his seed inside you.
He pulls out, quickly doing up his pants and walking away.
"that took 9 minutes, we'll have to see how quick we can be next time," he calls out to you as he walks away, "don't worry though, I've already figured out how your body works, we'll see how much you come next time."
Note: LESBIANS ASSEMBLE!! Kicking off the Kinktober remasters, we have a fic that all my wlw friends have been eagerly waiting for me to fix up! Once I finish the other remasters, I will be picking up where I left off on my 2020 list. :)
The Huntress x AFAB!Reader
SMUT
Contains: Mommy kink, Sexual inexperience, Semi-public masturbation, Fingering
You sigh as you dump the heavy stack of books from your arms onto the nearest surface, recoiling in disgust as a cloud of dust puffs out from the impact. Filing away a mental note to clean the place again later, you brush the grime off the front of your shirt and scan over your stolen goods. The Entity wasn’t one to listen to your requests for rewards – only ever giving you the typical med kit or flashlight for trials well done – so you had to resort to striking out on your own to find what you wanted.
Thankfully, Springwood had plenty of books scattered about, all in a good variety of reading levels for the goal you had in mind. Your finger traces the worn spines, lips silently shaping around the titles – The Kissing Hand, The Giving Tree, A Light in the Attic, James and the Giant Peach, Scholastic Children’s Dictionary, and a few too tattered to name. Satisfied with the collection you’ve gathered, you shift your attention to the rest of the cabin, ears straining for the telltale sound of the homeowner.
As if on cue, a soft humming drifts from one of the rooms upstairs, accompanied by the shrill scrape of metal being sharpened. An immediate sense of comfort washes over you at the sound of the familiar tune, and you cheerily make your way up the stairs towards the source.
“Honey bunny! I’ve got something for you!” You call out, chuckling to yourself as the humming immediately stops and is replaced by excited footsteps thumping out of the room at the end of the hall. Anna rounds the corner in a rush, her maskless face coming into view as she gives you a sweet, glowing grin.
“Малышка!” She bolts to you, scooping you up in her arms and nuzzling the strong bridge of her nose against your cheek. “You okay? No hurt?” She holds you away from her body, the muscles in her arms shifting as she lifts you to inspect your figure.
You giggle as you dangle in her grasp, feet floating a couple inches off the floor. “I’m alright. I found some more books for you! You wanna come downstairs and check them out?”
She giddily jumps up and down with you still in the air, causing you to grasp onto her biceps in a panic as the floorboards beneath her groan in protest. “Да! Да! Thank you Моя сладкая.” A flurry of loud smooches are pressed to your cheeks before she gently lowers you to your unsteady feet and races down the stairs with your wrist engulfed in her massive hand.
The way her face lights up at the sight of the books makes the tiresome journey to collect them worth the effort. Her finger traces the titles just as yours had mere minutes ago, her brows knitting together as she struggles with sounding out the titles. You gaze at her in adoration as the English syllables catch and roll off her tongue like rocks down a waterfall. This was only your third time bringing back books for her, so you anticipated her difficulties with pronunciation.
The first time had been completely unintentional – you’d found a copy of Frankenstein in Raccoon City and had brought it to the cabin as a means of entertaining yourself between trials. Anna had found you curled up reading under the candlelight, settling by your side as she curiously scanned the pages full of unfamiliar words. She was incredibly eager to learn your language so she could communicate easier with you, but you quickly found that the story wasn’t well suited for the purpose of teaching her. So, racking your brain for locations where books had been present, you’d set out with a new goal in mind – find books easy enough to teach your girlfriend English.
You made a lucky first pick with Midwich Elementary, managing to find a couple of intact copies of stories meant for younger children. You dedicated your free time to going through the books with Anna, patiently guiding her through the pronunciation and meaning of the words until she was able to read them on her own. She’d probably read through each of the stories over twenty times over the course of the month, so you had decided it was time to expand the collection.
Anna picks up The Kissing Hand, already familiar with the words in the title and captivated by the illustration of the raccoons on the cover. She holds it up to you expectantly, beaming as you take it from her and flip to the first page. “You want to go through this one first, love?” She hums in agreement, getting comfy in her usual reading chair and watching with bright eyes as you sit next to her with the book spread over both your laps.
You listen as Anna slowly reads it aloud, occasionally breaking the flow to correct her pronunciation or explain a new word to her. The story progresses at a snail’s pace, but you don’t mind – you’re too enraptured by Anna’s lovely voice and the overwhelming sense of pride to feel any frustration.
As she reaches the middle of the story, her voice catches on a new word, lips struggling to find the shape of it. “Mmm… Mohmoo?” Your eyes fall to the page, searching for the word giving her trouble.
“Ah, it’s pronounced ‘Mommy’ – mah-mee.” She looks at you with slight confusion, prompting you to explain the word. “You know the word mother, yes?” She nods. “Mommy is just another word for that, it’s mostly used by children to refer to their mother.”
Recognition immediately becomes evident on her face, eyes sparkling with pure joy as she presses a large fingertip to your chest. “If you baby, Малышка, then I am Mommy.” She points to herself with a proud smile.
Your eyes widen, a burning flush making its way across your face and chest. This type of thing wasn’t new; when she’d learned the words mother and baby, she consistently talked about the two of you using those titles. You’d never had an issue with it, playing along with the dynamic to a certain extent as you found it endearing. But this? Her calling herself Mommy? You don’t know why, but it shoots a lick of filthy heat through your spine, making your head spin with sudden desire.
Anna coos at the shocked look on your face, pinching your warm cheek as she admires your bizarre reaction. “My baby, so cute! What wrong?”
You freeze at her touch, embarrassment rolling through you in tides. Sure, you’d experienced lustful feelings towards your girlfriend before, it was only natural. But to experience it over her simply saying a word related to her innocent perception of your relationship? You internally kick yourself, ready to keel over and die on the spot from the overwhelming shame.
“It’s nothing, Anna. You just sound nice saying it-” You immediately pause, internally kicking yourself again for speaking without thinking as you notice the spark of joy in her eye flare up into obsession at your words. A wicked smile splits her face as she cradles your cheek in her palm.
“I say it more then, for you baby. From now on, I am Mommy.” You didn’t think it was possible to blush even more, but your body proves you wrong as the tingling heat spreads from your scalp to your toes in response to the word. You can’t help the pathetic whine that slips from your lips as a needy pulse settles low in your stomach.
Anna chuckles at that and plants a gentle kiss to your forehead before turning her attention back to the book. She continues to read as if nothing had happened, paying no mind to your squirming, sweating figure beside her. You find it near impossible to pay attention to her reading, failing to correct a couple of her mistakes as your mind is overtaken by a heady haze. The deep ache and steadily growing wetness between your legs becomes a terrible distraction, and you find that shifting your thighs together does little to relieve you of it.
You’re ripped out of your trance as Anna shuts the book with a loud clap and a cheery shout of “Done! I like, good book.” You offer her a sheepish smile, barely able to look at her radiant face without losing your composure. “Good job, you did great! Your English is improving a lot.”
She puffs out her chest in pride before casting a devious side eye at you, the deep umber of her irises glittering with mischief in the candlelight. “Good job, who?”
You almost give yourself whiplash as you snap to meet her eyes, reading her face for any sign that this might be a joke – there’s no way she actually expects you to say it, right? Her only response is to stare at you expectantly, tilting her head in a way that she knows makes your heart flutter uncontrollably. “Good job… Mommy.” You relent, your voice coming out a strained squeak as humiliation chokes your vocal cords.
Anna hums contentedly and scoops you up in a bridal carry, pressing a soft kiss to your hand like the raccoons in the book had done as she heads for the stairs. “Good baby.” The combination of her touch and praise doesn’t help your situation at all – another gush of slick adding to the uncomfortable mess in your underwear.
She makes her way upstairs to your shared room, gently setting you on the bed before sliding in next to you and tucking you both under the warm fur pelts. You want to protest, knowing that you’re far too riled up to even attempt sleep, but you detest the idea of having to explain your predicament to your unaware partner.
“Rest, Моя сладкая. You walk far.” She turns your body so she can spoon you, the iron weight of her arm over you snuffing out any thoughts you might’ve had about sneaking away to solve your problem and only serving to stoke the fire in your gut higher. You let out a resigned sigh, doing your best to get comfortable despite every nerve in your body screaming for release.
Anna drifts off with ease, her soft snores tickling the nape of your neck. You lay in her grasp wide awake, staring at the wall as you grapple with the arousal that gnaws at you like a starving dog. Knowing that you can’t do anything to soothe your need, and you certainly can’t ask Anna to assist, is driving you mad.
You’d only been with Anna a couple months now, but it became very evident very early into the relationship that Anna had no knowledge of anything sexual. She’d told you a bit about her upbringing through broken English and charades, and it was pretty clear that her mother was only concerned with teaching her survival skills in the short time they’d been together – she didn’t even know how to kiss, you had to teach her how. The thought that you would have to be the one to teach her sex ed if you wanted things to go further was mortifying, so you’d been holding off on it. Instead, you opted to chase release when your beloved left for trials, or pop a quick orgasm in the woods when you knew she was too busy to look for you.
You huff through your nose in irritation, glaring at the wall as if it has somehow wronged you. The frustration and lack of intimate touch has really started to eat away at your stubborn willpower. You know you’ll eventually have to teach her about sex if you truly want to be satisfied, but the daunting thought of taking your girlfriend’s remaining innocence quells your motivation once more. With a frown etched onto your face, you reluctantly do your best to fall asleep.
You regret not keeping your traitorous mouth shut. Anna has stayed true to her word, saying Mommy anytime the occasion calls for it.
“Baby, help Mommy with this?”
“Stay safe for Mommy!”
“Mommy loves you, Малышка.”
Much to your dismay, apparently she thinks you sound nice saying it as well, forcing you to call her Mommy when addressing her. God forbid you need anything, because she won’t oblige until you say the magic word.
“Anna, could you please get some more firewood for me?”
“Try again, baby.”
“... Could you please get firewood, Mommy?”
Every instance is torture, the word evoking a burning in your cheeks and loins no matter how many times you hear and speak it. You know you’re being dramatic, but you feel like this is going to be your demise – teaching Anna English was a terrible idea.
Your arousal has become an everpresent force, the weight of it constantly hanging to your bones and sucking the energy from your flesh. As if the Entity knows your predicament and is taunting you, you find yourself in a seemingly endless stretch of trials with barely any breathing room between. Any hope of getting yourself off to relieve the incessant throbbing between your legs is completely crushed by the lack of free time.
You find yourself totally useless in the trials, mind practically numbed out to nothing more than horny sludge. Objectives are pretty much impossible to complete as your brain and body lag off into unholy thoughts, leading to generators blowing up in your face and killers making an easy sacrifice of you. You were usually resourceful enough to escape trials with ease, so dying this often is unusual for you, and the stress of it is only adding to your frustration.
Just as you feel your tolerance beginning to crack, as if the Entity has heard your desperate plea to ‘please god just let me get off before I lose my shit PLEASE’, you finally catch a decent break. You thank whatever god will listen when you return to the cabin to find Anna too busy with stitching up hides to notice your arrival. Sighing in relief, you head out into the forest, taking the familiar path to your usual guilty hideout.
The tension in your frame noticeably lessens when you arrive, slinking under the low branches of a tree so that you can wedge yourself into the shaded spot between its trunk and a nearby bush. It provides just enough cover that you can do what you need to do without being easily spotted by Anna or any prying eyes.
You shimmy your shorts down to your ankles, hissing as you run a finger over your clothed clit. It pulses into the touch, absurdly reactive after going unstimulated for so long. The fabric of your underwear is already soaked through, clinging uncomfortably to your slick folds. You dip your fingers under the waistband, stifling a whimper at the way your clit throbs under your bare fingertips. Lightning shocks of pleasure dance across your nerves, the sensation from even just a light touch already sending your mind reeling.
You still for a moment before you can get too carried away, ears straining for disturbances nearby – the only sounds that greet you are the homely hum of wind through the trees and the soft patter of rain upon leaves overhead. Reassured by the lack of an audience, you start off slow, dipping down to your entrance to wet your fingertips and gliding them in small circles around your clit. Your teeth worry at your lower lip, fighting to contain the soft gasps and moans that threaten to spill forth so as to not risk giving away your position.
Every slick nudge of your clit sends a warm wave of bliss over you, your insides repeatedly clamping down on empty air as you’re overtaken with the need to be filled. Leaning your back against the tree, you slowly sink two fingers into your dripping heat, a high pitched keen slipping from your lips as the sensitive opening immediately grips onto the appendages like they’re a lifeline. You let all your built up frustrations from the past week guide your motions, pumping your fingers with messy vigor and thumbing your clit to meet each curl of your fingertips.
Your efforts to keep your mouth quiet aren’t worth much, as the soaking wet suction your pussy has around your fingers is embarrassingly loud. You’re too far gone to notice how your body is betraying your position, head thrown back against the solid wood of the trunk as you screw your eyes shut and your mouth lolls open. Your breaths come out in rapid pants, broken by low moans as your fingers repetitively bump against that soft spot that sends stars reeling across your vision. The burning ember of your release begins to spark deep in your gut, and you fervently chase after it, picking up the pace as you grow louder.
As your mind zones in on the pursuit of your orgasm, you fail to realize that the encroaching thumping sound isn’t just your pulse in your ears. The leaves of the bush around you give a sharp rustle as they’re pulled back, accompanied by a surprised hum. “Baby?”
Your eyes fly open wildly, figure jolting upright as your vision zeroes in on Anna’s signature rabbit mask. The rapidly approaching cliff of your orgasm is shattered into disappointing nothingness as you rip your hand away in a poor attempt to hide your incriminating act, a humiliated blush spreading across your complexion. “Shit. Anna, I-”
Whatever words you were thinking of saying evaporate on your tongue as Anna leans in close, interest and concern written all over her body language. Before you can pull away, she grabs your wrist, pulling your slick fingers into the moonlight. Despite her eyes being blacked out by the mask, you can feel the intense burn of her gaze studying your fluid covered digits. “You okay, Моя сладкая? Baby hurt?” She raises her other hand to press the back of it against your warm, sweat laden forehead, grunting discontentedly at how hot to the touch you are.
“N-no, I swear I’m fine. I’m just… just-” You stumble over your words as you try to come up with some pathetic coverup for your sinful actions just moments ago. While you’re distracted with your bumbling, Anna looks you over for any injuries. Her posture goes rigid as she notices the dark patch on your underwear and the wetness that drips down the inner junction of your thigh. Quicker than you’re able to register, the hand on your forehead shoots between your legs, pulling your underwear aside and exposing your dripping cunt to your worried girlfriend.
You squeak, scrambling to pull away and cover yourself up; the efforts prove to be fruitless as Anna drops your wrist to hold your hips still in a vise grip. “Anna, hey! Wait!!” You’re so embarrassed you could cry, desperately trying to pull her attention away. Nothing you’re doing is working – her eyes are locked onto it in complete and utter awe.
Fascination softens the rigid concern in her figure as she leans in, gaze flicking between your glistening pussy and your panicked expression. “Why is it wet, любимая?” She runs a finger through your slick folds, flinching in surprise at the way you buck into the touch and whine. Your wetness feels soft against her rough fingertip, and she holds it up to the moonlight so she can observe the way it glides and strings out between her finger and thumb.
You gnaw on your lower lip and furrow your brows as you contemplate how to explain this to her. You know that the present moment isn’t a great time to go through the whole detailed sex ed spiel, so your scrambled mind will have to come up with a satisfactory summary to quiet her curiosity. Praying that you don’t fumble this, you steel your nerves and gather your wits with a deep breath. “I really, really like you, and because I really like you, my body does… this. I can’t stop thinking about you calling yourself Mommy – it gets me so worked up that I have to do something in order to take care of the wetness.”
She stares at you as the gears in her head turn and process what you’re saying, a sweet smile spreading across her face as the information starts to click. She doesn’t fully understand, but she’s more than happy to do anything to assist her beloved. “Oh baby, why not ask? You know Mommy always wants to help take care of you.”
You freeze in shock, eyes going wide as you stare at your girlfriend’s lips, wondering if you’re hallucinating what she’d just said. Your body responds instantly, a fresh wave of slick leaking from your fluttering hole. Shyly, you nod and take her hand in yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Yes please, Mommy. I’d love that.” Similar to how you had to walk her through the process of making out, you know you’ll have to be thorough in guiding her through this.
Your heart hammers in your chest as you bring her hand to cup your pussy, letting out a stuttering sigh as your skin prickles with electric excitement at her long awaited touch. You align your hand with hers, pressing the tips of her middle and pointer finger against your entrance so that she can feel where you want her. “Put two fingers in, slow and gentle.”
Anna happily complies, carefully watching your reactions as she pushes her fingers into your tight heat. Your mouth falls open and your eyes roll back into your skull as her much larger fingers stretch you open with a pleasant burn. Anna is absolutely enraptured by the bliss that glows on your face as your body sucks her in. The warmth of your insides is unlike anything she’s ever felt before – hot and slick and rocking against her fingers like waves in a summer lake. She stills as her knuckles rest flush against the plush skin of your lips, reluctantly tearing her eyes away from your gorgeous face to study the way your pussy throbs against her hand. She may not understand what’s happening, but she knows one thing for certain – she adores this beautiful new part of you.
As your body adjusts to the new intrusion, you test the waters by rolling your hips against Anna’s hand. You instantly notice how much deeper her fingers reach, paired with the fuller pressure against your walls that seems to set every nerve alight. You whimper as you can’t help but clamp down on her, your body eagerly seeking to pick up where you had left off. Anna brings her attention back to your face, torn between being concerned by your unusual reactions and being wholly entranced by how divine you are. “Is good? What now, baby?”
You meet her gaze with hooded eyes and a sappy smile, insides fluttering again as she returns your expression. “So good, Mommy.” You hold up your hand in a similar position to hers so she can watch and copy your motions, subtly crooking your fingers as you rock your hand back and forth like you had been doing earlier. “Try doing this while moving, like a wave.”
Her movements are a bit awkward at first, but as she gets a feel for your body and how your walls push against her fingers, she quickly finds a rhythm and range of motion that has you singing for her. Every honeyed moan and saccharine cry is music to her ears – she can’t get enough, she needs more. Suddenly, her fingers hook against a cushiony spot inside you that has your body trembling and a choked gasp ripping from your throat. Like a predator locking onto prey, she zeroes in on your reaction and presses into it again, relishing in the loud moan you let out as your pussy jolts against her.
“Ohh fuck, right there Mommy!” Anna smiles proudly down at you as she continues her ministrations, paying special attention to the spot that has you reacting so strongly. In the back of her mind, she notes just how much wetter hitting that spot has made you, the silky fluid making each thrust of her fingers glide with ease. Your wetness is practically running down her wrist at this point, each pull of her fingers adding a squelching underscore to the symphony of sounds you’re making for her.
She moves to prop her thumb against your mons to support her wrist so that she can move her fingers deeper, but is shocked at the way you wail in pleasure as her thumb presses against your clit. You silently thank the gods for Anna’s affinity for being a quick learner, as she immediately begins to experiment with the pressure on your clit as she keeps thrusting. You sob as the sweet heat of your orgasm starts to unfurl in your pelvis once more, your cunt greedily gripping onto Anna’s fingers as if afraid to be left on the edge again. Your hips buck up into her touch, adding to the dizzying pressure on your clit as she rolls her thumb over it. “Oh my god, please keep going- just like that- I need you, Mommy, need you to make me cum-”
Anna hushes you, leaning in to kiss your forehead and brush a stray droplet of sweat away. “I got you, baby. So good for Mommy.” Her palm gently cups your cheek as she watches you up close, reverently observing how your eyes roll back and flutter shut as you’re overtaken by pleasure. Tears bead up at the corners of your eyes, catching in your lashes and sparkling in the low light before rolling down your cheeks. Your skin practically glows between the warm flush that hugs your features and the sheen of sweat that accents it. Anna’s heart thumps erratically in her chest as she obsessively takes in every detail – you’re so breathtakingly bewitching, and you’re all hers. Her pupils blow wide behind her mask, lips parting in desperate pants as an unfamiliar feeling begins to bloom inside her. A ferocious ache seizes between her thighs, and she begins to understand what you were trying to explain earlier.
With a particularly rough thrust of her fingers inside you, the last of your composure snaps and your release tears through you in a blinding, liquid rush of fire. “Mommy!” You moan loudly, your whole body seizing and arching up into her touch. Anna gasps, feeling your pussy gush around her fingers as it violently clamps down. Her body responds in kind, shocks of arousal wracking her insides as she whines needily and folds forward to press her face into your neck. Her hot breath fans against your collarbone as she distracts herself by planting sloppy kisses along your throat. She doesn’t stop pumping her fingers in you, continuing her vigorous pace as she works you through your mind-shattering high.
As you start to come to and the ringing in your ears clears up, you hear her muttering Russian into your flesh – some phrases you recognize, some you’ve never heard before. From what you can grasp, she’s praising you and complimenting you, littering each sentence with every pet name she’s ever given you. Her voice is rich with devotion, practically dripping in syrupy affection. Between the rapidly building overstimulation and the emotions welling up in your chest, you nearly start to cry.
Your hand weakly wraps around Anna’s wrist, stilling her fingers inside you and drawing her attention to your face. The way she looks at you, all admiration and softness, sends butterflies careening through your veins. She tilts her head, gently removing her fingers from you and wiping them against her pants. “Better now, любимая?”
You breathlessly laugh, pressing a grateful kiss to the bridge of her nose. “Much better. Thank you, Mommy.” Anna shifts her face so that she can capture your lips in a gentle kiss, a silent urgent pressure behind it as her own arousal jumps at the contact.
With a soft moan, she pulls away and effortlessly scoops you up in her arms, mindfully collecting your discarded shorts before starting the trek back to the cabin.
