Omg, This Is Amazing! 😍

🥵🤤😍

hysteria

summary: ghost needs help expressing his emotions

simon ‘ghost’ riley x afab!reader

warnings: mdni (18+), slight dark themes, light bondage, blindfold, mention of weapons, teasing, overstimulation, oral (fem rec), use of vibrator, ice play?, choking, kinda free use, name-calling, multiple creampies, possessive!ghost, dacryphilia if you squint, wax play, mirror sex

a/n: this is porn with very minimal plot, not proofread

Something was off with Ghost all day, his responses to you curt, revealing little about his thoughts, it worried you considering when he got quiet it meant he was in a dark place mentally. He'd only been home a week after being gone months on deployment, it was a good week, your time spent with mundane domestic tasks but it was like a switch was flipped, his presence grown cold with no explanation as to why.

You move closer to him in the room, standing in front of his sat form, his elbows propped on his knees as he stares at the ground, clearly lost in thought considering he neglected to acknowledge your presence.

You place your hands gently on his shoulders, feeling him tense under your touch, waiting a moment before digging your digits into the muscles, doing your best to knead any stress that was bearing weight on him.

"What are you doing?" His voice is low, his accent rumbling in his chest as his gaze stays on the floor.

"You seem upset"

"M'fine"

"Liar"

He snaps his head to you, the smirk on your lips fading as he stares at you with dark eyes, "What's wrong Simon"

"I told you, nothing"

"You've been ignoring me"

"Have I?"

"I don't want to play this game with you"

"Game?"

You pull your hands from him, crossing them over your chest, "I can help, just tell me what's wrong"

He stands to his full height, his stare boring into you as his height forces you to feel small in front of him, your body suddenly nervous. You place a soft hand on his chest, keeping him in his place as he stretches his shoulders, broadening his chest. He grabs your wrist, pulling it from him and holding it at your side, his grip harsh on your skin,

"Si, let me help"

He watches your pleading eyes, he wants your help, but he still hasn't figured out how to vocalize it, he watches the way your hand falls limp in his grip, you aren't fighting against him, you know he'd never hurt you, your features are soft as you watch him, his tired eyes looking down at you as he releases your hand, watching it fall.

"I want to help"

You move your arms to touch him but he steps back, swallowing in his throat, "No touching"

"Okay"

"Close your eyes"

There were occasions during sex when he'd make an effort to hide his face, turning off lights or keeping his mask on, he'd never left it up to you to be the one without sight. You close your eyes, keeping your body still as you hear him move around you, he reaches for a drawer before returning to you, your heart jumping as you feel a piece of fabric slip over your eyes, his hands tying it behind your hair, keeping it snug.

You raise your arms as you feel his fingers tug at your shirt, helping him to lift it from your form, allowing your chest to enter his view, his hands moving quickly to your pants, tugging them down as you step out of them. Letting out a heavy breath as you become completely exposed to him, unaware of your surroundings.

You hear him move away, opening a cabinet before moving back to you, he tosses an object onto the bed before his arms lock under your thighs, hoisting you against him with minimal effort as your fingers cling to him. He lays you on the bed, allowing you to adjust against the mattress before he grabs your wrists, tugging them above your head, he shifts the object above your head, using some form of string to tie your wrists to it, securing them so they stay positioned above you, unable to move.

You tense your hands, trying to get a feel for the object, it's cold, somewhat cylindrical, whatever it is, its position means you truly can't touch him, even if you tried.

The mattress dips under his weight, you can feel the skin of his bare chest against yours, moving your legs to rub against the harsh fabric of his pants, his breath fans over your ear making your hair stand on end.

"Do you trust me?"

"With my life Si"

"Good"

He moves from the bed, your ears tuning in to the sounds of his movements as he passes through rooms, your breath hitching as the sound of objects setting on the side table makes you jump.

His palms flatten against your thighs, pushing them apart, pressing them into the bed as he spreads them, your arousal evident by the way your pussy glistens, you can feel his stare, the way his thumbs dig into your flesh as his gaze devours you.

He removes a hand, reaching over you, your muscles tense as he presses something freezing against your flesh, your hips squirming as he runs it over your inner thigh, the object dripping against your skin.

Ice

He runs the ice cube over the flesh, letting it drip from your body to the sheets as it melts, your breath quickening as your body tries to adjust to the cold. He drags it up your tight, moving it closer to your core before settling it atop your pussy, letting the cold water drip between your folds, watching it pass through your slick to trickle down.

He's silent, watching as the water moves over your skin, enjoying the way your body twitches as the cold touches sensitive spots. He holds the ice until it melts fully, your face contorting as you clench around nothing.

"Si, please"

"Shh, when I say so"

He was gonna take his time, watch you fall apart before splitting you open with his cock, he wanted you dumb, easy, ready to be taken by him in whatever way he pleased.

You release a breath as his hands move from you, your fingers tensing against the restraints as he shifts in his spot. You yelp as you feel heat his your skin, circles of flesh stinging for a moment before they calm down, he drips a trail down your stomach, watching the muscles tense under every drop.

He leads it toward your core, your pussy soaking as he pools the fluid above it, his fingers tracing up your legs, settling beside your core, as you arch your hips, trying to gain any sort of contact.

He teases two fingers around your sex, collecting your slick and running the digits over your hole, your pussy clenching as he teases at your entrance.

You whimper as he slides the fingers in, watching your cunt suck the digits in, stifling a groan from his chest as he pumps them into you, the fingers glistening with your slick.

He feels you clench down on him every time he lets a drop fall from the candle, your back arching slightly as the wax makes contact with your skin.

Everything is heightened, the burn of the wax after the chill from the ice, the way his large fingers slide into you with ease, curving to hit just the right spot as your fingers try to grab at anything that would ground you.

It feels too good and he's barely touched you, all you can feel is him now, his fingers pumping into you as he coax’s an orgasm from your body, listening to your noises and letting them guide him as your high builds inside you.

“M’gonna cum”

“Good, cum for me, cum on my fingers you little slut”

His words drive you over the edge, your push clamping down on his digits as he works you through your high, grazing them against the soft spot inside you over and over, watching your mouth fall open as your moans drip from your tongue.

He pulls his hand from you, leaving you feeling empty before pressing a cool object against your clit before letting you come down from your high, a straggled yelp from your throat as he turns the object on, letting it vibrate against the neglected bud, your hips twitching with the contact.

He trails a hand up your stomach, settling it at the base of your neck where his fingers lay against your pulse point, squeezing lightly as your limbs dig into the mattress, your hips arching into the vibrator as he holds it against you, refusing to let you move from it.

“I want you fucking soaked”

The room fills with your whimpers, your nerves on end as your legs shake lightly from the sensation, the remnants of your orgasm still lingering beneath the surface as he squeezes harder against your neck, suffocating your moans.

“You’re gonna cum one more time before I stuff you with my cock, you need to earn it you fucking whore”

Your grind your core against the toy, any sense of self consciousness gone as you chase your high, your skin covered in a thin layer of sweat.

“That’s it, ride the toy, make yourself cum”

Grazing your clit against the vibration, urging your high to surface as his hand moulds against your neck, your chest rising with heavy breaths.

His fingers press into the skin of your neck, his palm snug against your wind pipe as he silenced your cries, pushing the toy harder against your clit.

Your orgasm rips through your body, your moana reduced to strangled sobs as your body writhes under his grip, his hand keeping the vibrator on you as you try to pull your hips away, your legs weak from the stimulation as your body seizes.

“That’s it, so good for me”

He releases your neck letting you gasp for air and he replaces the toy with his fingers, easing you down from your high, your body wracked as your limbs rest weak against the bed.

He shifts his weight, leaning over your form, his fingers tracing against your wrists as you feel the knots around them loosen. You flex the digits as he unties you, pulling your arms to your side slowly, the flesh tingling as feeling returns to them.

His arms snake under your back, pulling you against him, one hand situated under your thigh holding you up as he lifts you from the bed. He placed you down, turning your body so your back is flush with his chest as his arm holds around your waist.

He tugs the fabric from your eyes, blinking slowly as light returns to them, he looks massive behind you, your weak form held up inky by his grip as your ass presses against his groin, his cock hard under his jeans.

You turn your gaze upward, eyes focusing on the sight of your body in the mirror, skin splotchy and hair a mess as he stands behind you, untouched.

His gaze is dark as he locks eyes with you in the mirror, his form dwarfing yours like he wants you to see how much bigger he is.

“Look at you, all worked up and you haven’t even had my cock yet”

Your mouth dries at the thought, he’s already wrecked your body with just his fingers, your pussy clenching at the thought of his cock splitting you open.

His hand grabs your wrists, pinning them behind your back as you wince at the angle, he holds them tightly, subduing you from trying to touch him as his eyes take over your naked form in the mirror.

He glides two fingers through your folds, grinning when you whimper from the contact,

“Think you deserve my cock?”

“Yes”

“You can do better than that”

“Please, need to feel you”

“You need my cock little slut?”

“Yes, need it so bad”

His fingers work to undo his pants, pulling them lower, letting his length spring free, resting is against the curve of your ass as you grind lightly against him, a hiss from his mouth as your flesh makes contact with his erection.

“Don’t get greedy”

You plead with him through heavy eyes in the mirror, your flush skin a stark contrast to his pale chest as he presses against you.

“M’gonna ruin you”

He whispers in your ear, the words making goosebumps form on your skin as he drags the tip of his cock through your folds, bending you forward slightly to get a better angle

“Keep your head forward, you move or close your eyes, I stop”

“Please, fuck me”

He bites back a grunt as he pushes into you, his eyes glued to the way your face scrunch’s as he stretches you out, forcing his cock into you.

“So goddamn tight”

Your mind is too fuzzy to hear the sounds that the slick from your core makes as he pushes deeper, coating his length in your juices as he stuffs you full of his cock.

“That’s it, take it all you fucking slag”

A growl from deep in his chest emerges as he bottoms out, his top pressing against your cervix as you adjust to the size of him, your walls squeezing his length.

Your knees buckle as he thrusts in, his arm locking around your waist to hold you up while he pumps his full length into you, dragging it along your soaked walls, his hips colliding with your ass with every stroke.

“Bloody hell, such a wet little cunt”

You struggle to keep your eyes open as he fucks you from behind, your state focused on the way he clenched his jaw as his eyes watch your pussy swallow him, your body rocking back and forth with the force of his thrusts.

He releases your hands, letting them fall forward against the mirror while his fingers move to toy with your clit, broken moans falling from your lips as your eyes meet his. He darkens his gaze as he circles the bud, working in time with his thrusts, your body on edge since your last two orgasms, the light in the room almost blinding as you struggle to hold your hands firm against the mirror.

“Wanna see you as you soak my cock, wanna feel this tight pussy squeeze me”

You scrunch your brows in an attempt to keep your eyes open, the sounds he’s making filling your ears as you use every bit of strength just to keep your head up.

He rubs quick circles around your clit, his cock driving into you, running against your soft spot, bringing you closer to the edge as your body grows hot, your skin damp with sweat as your watch his stomach tense with every thrust.

His hand moves from your waist, gripping around your neck to bring you against him, your back arched as your head makes contact with his chest, his large hand holding you tight to him.

“Watch yourself, cum on my cock”

Your hands reach for the mirror in front of you, trying to grab anything that wasn’t him as you feel the coil inside you burn your skin, searing your body as he grins behind you, feeling you clench down on his cock.

Your orgasm leaves you numb, your neck weak, lolling against his chest as he fucks you through it, gritted teeth resting beside your head as he watches you through the mirror.

"That's it baby, that's it, fuck"

His strokes grow sloppy, his eyes glued to your face as your body moulds to him, whispers of curses falling from his lips as he spills into you, his hips twitching as you release a wanton moan as the sensation of his cum filling you.

He holds his softening cock inside you, a heavy breath from your chest as you both come down, straining your arms against him as you try to move.

"Not done yet love"

His hands find purchase on your waist, walking you backward until your knees collide with the bed, your body falling backwards into the mattress as he lowers himself in front of you.

"Need to taste you"

You try to squirm your hips away but he plants his hands firmly on your legs, pinning you to the bed as he flattens his tongue, running it through your folds and collecting the combination of your spend, holding it in his mouth as he moves over your form.

He lowers himself over you, planting his lips on yours as he kisses you greedily, transferring the liquid into your mouth as his tongue swirls yours, the taste salty on your tastebuds as you swallow it.

He moves back, a string of saliva connecting your lips as he lowers himself back down, his lips latching around your clit as you sob, your head falling to the side.

"Please, s'too much"

"I say when it's too much"

He flicks his tongue over the bud, your body writhing under him as he holds you still, tears pricking your eyes as he works the muscle over your abused core.

He hums against your core, words escaping you as you sob into the sheet, saliva from your mouth pooling at the corners of your lips as it drips onto the fabric below.

"Taste so fucking sweet, one more for me"

He brings your orgasm quickly, your core still tensed from the previous as your vision blurs, tears falling to stain your skin as your fingers cling to the sheets, his hands holding your struggling hips still as your high rips through your body, taking away any remaining strength you had as you fall limp against the bed.

"That's it, my perfect little slut, m'gonna fill this cunt one more time, stuff you full of my seed"

You watch him with watery eyes as his chest presses to yours, his cock pushing into you as your weeping pussy takes him, letting him fill you with every inch, his elbows propped beside your head, caging you.

"You crying baby? Took my cock for a few minutes and you're all worked up"

His taunts pass through your ears, your senses dull to anything but the feeling of his cock filling you, thrusting in with every inch as your core soaks him, slick dripping from you to wet the sheets below, leaving a pool of arousal.

He runs a thumb over your cheek, smearing the drops of tears as you watch him with hooded eyes, your moans reduced to quiet whimpers as your mouth falls open. Your skin stained with saliva as it falls from your tongue, his lips quick to capture yours, swallowing your breaths as he fucks you, chasing his high.

You lull your head to the side, eyes moving slowly around, settling on the gleam of metal beside you, squinting to try and focus on the object before his hand settles at the back of your neck, tugging you into his shoulder as he presses his weight into you.

"Fuck, so fucking good, tell me you need it"

You struggle to form the words, your brain fogged,

"Tell me"

"Need to feel you, need your cum"

"That's right, want this cunt dripping with my seed"

He thrusts into you at a rapid pace, drawing the last breath from your chest before burying his cock in you, his arms holding you against him as he spills into you again, your pussy clenching around his length as he pumps it into you, the heat spreading from your core to envelop your skin.

He loosens his grip, letting your body rest lighter against the bed as he lays on top of you, his hands moving to hold yours, tugging them to wrap around his waist, a small hum of satisfaction leaving your lips as your fingers press against the flesh, finally able to touch him.

He waits a few minutes, catching his breath before slowly pulling his cock from you, whispers of apologies as you whimper at the loss, his body moving around the room, returning with a small towel to help clean your body, wiping it of sweat and wax, careful around your core to clean up the mess.

He sits beside you, an arm on your back helping you sit up, leaning against him as he raises a glass to your lips, letting you drink as much as you needed before finishing the cup himself.

You gaze around the room as he moves from the bed, your brain finally focusing on the object near the pillows,

"Is that your scyth"

He doesn't respond, just moves it from the bed, placing it against the wall and out of the way before sliding onto the mattress, his arms wrapping around you as he tugs you into him, your face nestled against his chest while he rests his chin on the crown of your head.

"Got a message from Price, I have to leave in two days"

"S'that why you're upset?"

He hums against your head, "Not enough time"

"We'll have time when you get back"

"Just want to be with you"

You press a light kiss to his chest, smiling when he doesn't pull away,

"Thank you for telling me"

"Thank you for helping"

He cranes his neck down to you, his features softer as you gaze up at him, reaching to kiss him, his soft lips pressing against yours,

"You should really find some outlet for your emotions"

He huffs a small laugh, lips pressing to your forehead as his head falls against the pillow, arms snug around you as your legs tangle between his, your bodies calm as you lay with each other.

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Omg 🥵❤️‍🔥

Two Ghosts One Stone [Ghost x Reader x Ghost]

Warnings: 18+, Double Penetration, Binding/Restraining, Rough Sex, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Stomach Bulging, Manhandling, Dirty Talk, Name Calling, Degradation (Slut-Shaming), Fem! Reader, Mentioned/Implied Aftercare, The Masks Stay On, etc.

Simon watched, his eyes dark and intentions darker, his pants drawn down his thighs. Behind you, Ghost gripped you by your hips, pulled you back so you could feel something prodding you. You gasped.

“Come on,” said Simon, a drawl in his voice; haste. “Hurry up and take her already – we ain’t got all night.” And, the demand hanging in the air, both Ghosts laughed, a joke between the two of them – one you understood all too well. As if Simon’s impatience rubbed off on him, Ghost’s fingers dug into the skin of your sides, making you wince. And, before you could breathe, you felt him – his girth, his weight – his tip had been at your centre, and now, he was halfway inside. You yelped.

“God !” he strained. You felt his stomach to your back – he was leaning against you, as if for support. His breathing, heavy, gave the illusion of exhaustion; of relent. “Fuck, you’re tight, Princess,” he rasped. Leaning forward now, his lips came to your ear. Even through the mask, you could feel his breath, scorching, against your shell.

“Let’s see how loose I can get you by the end of the night.”

Now, rubbing circles into your hips, he erected to his full height, his front no longer to your back, and pulled out. Time was but a pinprick between then and now as he slammed himself inside you – all of him, all at once. And, just as before, you let out a noise of surprise, though this one was subdued – steeped in the beginnings of euphoria. And, just as before, he was heavy. Thick and veiny, you could feel the veins along his cock, bulging and wide as he took you, his breath shuttering, his head thrown back as he let out a yell, short and sweet, a shriek.

And Simon watched. Watched you grip the bed sheets, trying to catch your breath; watched as your head rose to face him, lips parted. The image of his cum drooling from your mouth, you thoroughly used and enjoyed flashed in his mind. He pumped himself once. Twice. He’d coated himself in saliva; a makeshift solution to his aching problem.

His chest fluttered with every breath, chest heaving as he watched you, pumping himself faster once Ghost took to a rhythm. Ghost wouldn’t let you fall far; his grip on your hips kept you glued to him, his praises of “Good girl, keep taking me,” enough motivation to at least try and remain at your spot on the bed. And to send electric euphoria between your legs. You whined, and Simon, still at the wall, gave a minute gasp.

To begin with, with his founding strokes, Ghost made this task somewhat possible, the force of his hips against yours enough to knock you forward, his strength pulling you back. But, as the seconds turned into minutes and Ghost began to lose himself, his thrusts became…stronger. Insatiable.

“That’s it,” he told you through breathless praises, the feeling of his thighs against your backside becoming more frequent, bruising. “Such a good girl–” He pulled out, almost all the way. You scarcely had the time to scream as he slammed himself – all of himself – back inside, sending a stab of pain through your middle. You choked, your breath catching in your throat, and fell forward, your chest to the bed sheets, Ghost’s grip no longer able to hold you. He was gone. Truly and utterly. You could tell in the way he moaned, low and loud and filling the air with dark electricity – a call to arms. He didn’t even reassure you as you tried to regain your breath, tears burning your throat, warned off by the building euphoria in your centre.

“Fuckin’ Hell, Ghost – be gentle,” came Simon, whose voice, gruff as usual, was sharp with territory. His breathing, though hitched as his hand stroked himself, particularly close to his agitated, reddening, weeping tip. Pre-cum beaded from his slit, collecting on his palm as he slid it down his shaft.

“There’ll be nothin’ left of her the way you’re pummelin’ her.”

Even though he was behind you, you could feel Ghost’s smile beneath his mask, felt a weighted darkness pressing on you.

“That’s the goal.” He pulled out all the way and tore his way back inside. You shrieked, moaned, your mouth pressed to the sheets, muffled by the mattress. As little as you wanted to admit it, you wanted them to destroy you, to fill you so utterly and entirely that nothing else existed except them. And it seemed they wanted that, too. Especially with the blackened gleam in Simon’s eye as he picked up the pace, fisting himself with an almost voracious sentiment, his eyes narrowing as he refrained from succumbing to the tidal euphoria building within.

You felt that the ecstasy building between your legs mirrored Simon’s, exceptionally so when Ghost, still slamming into you, forcing you deeper and deeper into the pillows, ceased, pulled you close to him by your hips, and continued, hitting a hidden, wanton angle. Electricity spasmed through you, and you gasped, letting out a breathy moan. Ghost laughed, sly and slender, his hand sliding up your thighs, straying between your legs, drawing ornate patterns into your skin. You shivered, the feeling of his incongruously gentle touch with his harsh, biting thrusts almost too much to bear. You could feel yourself clenching down on him, lips mouthing his cock as if choking on his girth.

His hand, large, rough, warm, slid from between your legs. His palm rested on your stomach while he rolled slow circles against your clit. The static building in your core spasmed, a phantom tendril lashing out. By reflex, your legs tried to close, but Ghost was having none of it. His other hand gripped your thigh, hooked around it and forced it apart. You wailed, unable to shield yourself from his attack. Not like you actually wanted to.

“Oh no, Princess,” Ghost said, his voice a low purr. Simon’s breath quickened, the slick sounds of his solo excursion the vocals to the symphony of ghost ploughing into you. “I want to see all of you,”

 And see you, he did. In fact, he watched, observed you – like an experiment. Not that you could see it, rather felt its palpable presence – Ghost’s stare was sharp, razor. He took in the red, sodden, aching mess you’d become, friction marks from where his thighs met yours in a slapping, thumping manner, crescents where his nails had dug into your skin and kept you tethered to him, to the outcome he was forcing you closer and closer to. You could tell you were soaked; the brief chill hitting your backside and thighs whenever Ghost pulled away gave you a horrendously honest look at how desperate you were for the two men. That, and the collation of fluids collecting and rolling down from between your thighs.

“‘F only you could see her, SImon,” came Ghost. His breath shuttered, wavered as he worked to keep his pace, his skin slapping against yours, his hand becoming drenched between your thighs. “If only you could feel her,” he pressed his palm into the bottom of your stomach. And you wailed. Of course, you’d felt Ghost’s dick weighted inside you, but to have you feel him more, pressing your stomach so you could feel his cock against your skin, felt unreal.

“Bet you couldn’t fill her like this.”

Had your euphoria not built to a point where everything was muffled to you, you may have seen the room darken, the atmosphere grow heavy. But alas, you were past the point of oblivion, innocent to the pointed, glaring, fiery stare Simon gave Ghost, and the immediate ceasing of his strokes. Even Ghost seemed to slow, though kept pumping into you, rubbing you, agonising you.

You didn’t hear Simon’s footsteps, the heft of his boots against the floor as he approached the end of the bed, and, with his free hand, grabbed you by your hair. He yanked your head up to meet his, and while you gasped, a shriek died in your throat as Simon shoved his cock into it, stifling you, choking you. You let out a yelp, tried to retract, but Ghost’s frame behind you and Simon’s painful grip on your follicles made such a manoeuvre an impossibility.

“Suck it up, cum slut,” said Simon. Now, looking up at him through bleary eyes, you saw the steel in his stare. He didn’t let you accustom yourself to his intrusion before he pulled out and slipped back in, protruding deeper into your mouth, the taste of salt smattered against your tongue.

“Yeah, wouldn’t want Ghosty here to get upset,” came a voice from behind. You almost turned around, flashed a pleading look to him, asked him if he were intentionally trying to invoke Simon’s wrath on your behalf. But an ache formed in your jaw as Simon used you as he had his hand prior. And, just like Ghost, he was anything but gentle.

The longer he had you wrapped around his shaft, the more potent the taste and viscosity of a foreign substance coated the insides of your mouth, painted it white, drooled and dripped down your chin like saliva. And all the while, you couldn’t stifle or help the moans Ghost drew from you, the vibrations of which seemed to reach Simon as his mouth dropped open he threw his head back. “Fuck,” he breathed, his Adam’s apple thick and protruding just beneath the lip of his mask. Ghost smiled, lips drawn thin beneath his mask. “Looks like Simon’s close,” he said. You could say nothing in response, to which Ghost gave a short, stark laugh – a scoff. A hand reached up to your jaw, gripped you by the cheeks. And squeezed. You could feel Simon’s cock slick against your gums. And so could he.

Before you could accustomed yourself to this feeling, Ghost’s crushing grip about your cheeks, Simon’s pounding, unrelenting rhythm, Simon twitched in your mouth and, with a lasting, gruff cry, became blinded by ecstasy. The after-effects of which you felt fill and drip from your mouth and down your throat.

As if like clockwork, Ghost, his breathing remaining laboured, began to feel loose behind you. His killing pace remained but there was a softness to it there had not been before – a bluntness. With Simon panting above you, his release dripping down your throat, making your chest sticky, and Ghost’s increasingly rhythmless strokes bringing you both closer and closer to your end, your body scorched, ached where you had been used – where you were being used. You’d have cried for a moment’s respite had it not been for how Ghost’s hand slipped to your breasts, held them, squeezed them to his palms. The way he held you had stray electricity shock between your legs, tipped you ever closer to the edge.

“Go on, Princess,” Ghost rasped. His voice was deeper now, serrated – as if his throat was seared with…something. “Cum for me,”

Not that you’d been holding out for Ghost, but something about the authority in his voice, the fact that you had warranted his permission, sent you spiralling. Still gasping around Simon’s girth, he finally looked down at you, and, instead of pulling out, gripped you by the hair again.

“I wanna feel your screams, angel,” he said, eyes half-lidded yet still piercing. And you couldn’t hold it anymore.

White-hot euphoria took your senses, had you hostage to the whims of the two men before and behind you. You clenched, gripped Ghost, to which he made a strangled noise that not even his mask could contain, filling the dense, moist air with a primal growl. You practically shrieked, the reverberations of your staining voice stimulating his softening, sensitive appendage. He grunted, glowered, sucked breath in between gritted teeth.

“God, Darlin’ – fuck – you’re so tight,” panted Ghost, his strokes becoming slower, almost stilled by the force with which you held him. 

The fireworks within evolved, dimming with each wave that flowed from your core outwards, leaving you limp. Simon took the liberty of removing himself from your mouth, stroked your bottom, puffed lip with his thumb. You scarcely made out his praise, him calling you his “Good girl,” between Ghost’s panting, his low moaning, and the static in your head.

“(Y/N) – I-I’m–”

Ghost didn’t have chance to finish his sentence for his climax tearing through him, reaching into his soul and withdrawing from him a deep, guttural moan, breathy yet weighted at its centre. You felt warmth filling you from within, felt Ghost still, his pounding no longer stoking your fire, letting you ride the wave with your cheek in Simon’s hand, eyes glazed and lips parted as you tried to regain your breath.

A stillness settled, rearing its head.

At some interval of this quietude, Ghost pulled out, the only indication being the sound of liquid friction and his weight falling back onto the pillows behind. You’d felt little of this – merely a blunted retraction, your lower half growing numb with every second that passed.

“Almost milked me dry,” said Ghost, and while there was a distinguishable whine to his tone, he wasn’t complaining.

“Yeah,” came Simon, taking a step towards the bed. “Thought you wouldn’t be able to hack it, Love.”

You did little in reply save for a smile, reserved and quiet, but a response all the same.

You hadn’t realised yet, but your body was much weaker than before, being that Ghost had thoroughly enjoyed and used you; Simon, too. But somehow, you knew that wouldn’t let you off the hook, warrant an ‘early night’. No, not if the feeling of Ghost all but sneaking up on you from behind, his arms enclosing your waist and pulling you into his chest was anything to go by.

You whined. Ghost growled, gripped you by your jaw and forced your chin to point heavenward, making swallowing very difficult and making some form of eye contact with him facile.

“Oh no, Sweetheart,” he drawled. “We’re not done with you yet,”

“He’s right,” Simon said. The same Simon whose belt now lay wrapped around his wrist like a serpent, one knee on the mattress, his chest puffed with newfound vigour. “He might’ve had his fill of you,” his eyes flickered down to your stomach, a bump having formed there, the culmination of Ghost’s thick load still oozing from between your legs. “We can’t stop ‘til I’ve had you, too.”

Everything happened so fast it may as well have been a technicolour show of memories, time skips and jumps, for during the scuffle (which was really just Ghost forcing your wrists together, Simon tying them, and you whining when Simon forced your legs apart, exposing your already sensitive parts to more punishment) you were bound, restrained and defenceless.

Ghost had finished what Simon had started, prying and keeping your legs apart by digging his ankles between yours, spreading your legs as far as you could allow. Simon slid your bound wrists over the back of his neck, keeping your front open. The look he gave you – veiled almost entirely by his mask – was visible in his eyes; a rabid determination seen only in those with nothing left to lose.

Between the numbness between your thighs and the newfound proofing feeling at your back, Simon edged closer, held himself in his hand, stroked once. He almost twitched, his eyes narrowing.

“Now, Angel,” he said. He leaned closer, his nose an inch from yours. You felt his tip against your lips. “I don’t wanna what any complainin’ or cryin’ unless it’s because your pathetic little cunt can’t take any more of me,” a hand came to your throat, stroked the ridges – your Eve’s apple – still stretched by Ghost’s grip.

You said nothing, but a look of hazy resolve in your eyes told Simon all he needed to hear. He looked past you, to the man behind you, who, when Simon nodded, released your jaw. You almost wanted to celebrate. In unison, they lifted you, Ghost by your waist and Simon by your thighs. The next thing you knew, you were full – painfully so – pressed between two walls of men.

You let out a winded cry, jostled between the idea of leaning against Ghost or taking to Simon’s chest for comfort. The former made the decision for you, taking his hands from your thighs and bringing them to your waist. He shushed you, gently, voice free from condescension and irritation. It was an imitation of comfort, a gesture.

“It’s okay, Princess,” he whispered in your ear. He massaged slow, calm circles into your sides, his hands coming to rest upon your stomach. “It’s alright, breathe for me – there’s a good girl.”

Simon’s expression seemed to mirror Ghost’s, for a softness possessed his gaze, one which encouraged a hand to trail to your cheek, holding it. He wiped a lone tear. “I know, Sweetheart,” he said. “It won’t hurt for much longer, promise.”

Perhaps their altruism was only a show. Perhaps they were true in their comforts, purveyors of their reassurances, for the pain did pass in the minute that followed. And, when you nodded, told them they could continue, the air changed.

Simon and Ghost brought you up and slammed you back down on their lengths, following a rhythm to which, accustomed now, but no longer numb, you tried desperately not to get lost in. Not again.

The embers of your last orgasm ebbed within as the two took you, Ghost’s hands resting on your waist, feeling him and Simon inside you, your stomach swollen. You hadn’t even noticed until you felt Ghost give a short laugh in your ear, and spoke over you.

“God, Simon – have you felt her ?” he said. Simon, looking to where Ghost’s gaze rested, gave a groan. He could see perfectly well what Ghost was talking about; having two men inside you at the same time, two particularly well-endowed men, no less, was bound to have some physical effects on your body, but Simon hadn’t anticipated them to be so immediate, rather assuming them to be an aching between your legs the next day or the inability to walk properly.

You couldn’t help but pay attention to their conversation, one which, while about you, did not include you. Or so you thought.

Simon’s hand came to lay upon your front, and, while he ploughed into you, he felt himself inside you. “God, (Y/N) – ‘m surprised you ain’t burstin’ from the seams,” he said, a deep drawl in his voice. You wanted to retaliate, say that you were, but the vigour with which he slammed you onto him now knocked the air out of you, made arguing pointless. And, as if in competition, Ghost followed suit.

“Seein’ as you’re so eager to get ahead,” said Ghost. “How’s about we see who can ruin her first.”

It wasn’t a proposition.

Simon smiled.

He pulled out, entirely, and threw himself back in. You let out a moan, something between a scream and a whimper. Whatever hopes you’d had of holding out for the whole night were dashed in that instant. 

And you couldn’t be happier.

The coil in your centre tightened, the telltale sign that you wouldn’t last another ten minutes if you were lucky. And, given your track record of the evening, you weren’t going to place any bets.

Simon and Ghost’s breathing was deep, heaving, and you had no doubt the masks and the physical excursion did little to help things. Though, the sounds which poured from them – micro-whimpers and whispered moans – existing within the crevices of these pants were too enticing for you to care.

Simon’s hands came to rest on your thighs, where he squeezed your skin, grabbed any conjuration of muscle, meat and fat he could, and uttered more praise to you. “My girl,” he said. “You’ll always be my girl – no one else’s,”

Ghost did nothing to dispute Simon, but the squeeze to your sides suggested he wasn’t agreeing. Or going down without a fight.

A mere ten minutes into this fresh Hell and you already could feel yourself going numb again, the electricity at your centre having grown, your nerves burning with a need for release. You’d have conjured the words if you’d known them, but you feared your mind had been turned to jelly under the competition of the two military men.

You could tell they were close to finishing, what with their breathing growing deeper and more uneven by the second, their thrusts becoming uncoordinated, desperate, seeking any and all solace they could glean from burying themselves within you. And, of course, the praises.

“Doin’ so well, Angel,” one would rasp, while the other would show you their gratitude, moulding your breast in his hand and sucking his mark into your throat.

There came a point where you weren’t even sure you were human anymore, with you still remaining conscious yet limp amidst this exchange. Save for the need to let go, to have the energy inside you now burst free, you felt a mere toy to these men. And you loved every second of it.

“I c-can’t–” you managed to choke out. Simon and Ghost kept at their attack, their pursuit of that which they coveted most; your pleasure. The room, heavy with everything you’d done, was filled corner to corner with your gasping moans, Simon’s guttural growls and Ghost’s grunting. All the orchestra of a dream come true.

“Cum for me, Princess,” heaved Simon. A desperation lay in his voice – one which sought the same release as you, and that only through your climax could he achieve his.

“Yeah, Darlin’,” came Ghost, thick and hot behind you. “Show us how we make you feel.”

And that was the last straw.

You moaned, long and hard, and you came. Your body scorched with fire and electricity, a storm you could hardly keep to yourself as you threw your head back against Ghost’s shoulder, your stomach arching into Simon’s. Your coil snapped, combusted, and you were left a heaving, panting, near-crying mess.

You gripped Simon’s shoulders while Ghost’s front pressed to your back. Within quick succession, one finished after the other, their growled moans carrying through the room and into your mind as, still impaled and overcome with a euphoric exhaustion, you rested against the two men. 

You knew they’d take care of you – run you a bath and tend to your every need in the minutes following. But right now, you just wanted to be here with them, feeling their hearts thunder like drums against your skin.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterpost

Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3

Taglist: @montenegroisr @projectdreamwalker @animarix @konigsblog @sweetirilly @crystaljade22 [will not be adding ageless blogs]

💓💓💓💓💓

Tender

Julian/Reader(GN)

Notes: dacryphillia, praise, implied amab but can be read as gn

((First posted on my ao3!))

Slow and steady, Julian’s breathing becomes even and his hands not as shaking. His palms brace on your shoulders, thighs framing yours as he hovers over your lap. You grip his hips in a way you know he loves, bruising and in control. Slowly, he sinks down, taking you inside of him with a delighted groan. A pleased sigh leaves your lips as Julian sits flush against the tops of your thighs. He doesn’t wait to get used to the feeling, already shifting his hips before rising up and sinking back down. You pull him into an eager kiss and he shares his enthusiasm, nearly shoving his tongue down your throat and you can feel the vibrato of his moans. He tastes of bitter coffee, what you’d caught him chugging down before you lured him to relax.

Julian picks up his pace, long legs folded under him as he rides you, spreading nimble fingers across the expanse of your shoulders and chest. His head tilts back as you trace your lips across his jaw, to his neck, to that sensitive place where neck meets skull under his ear. You bite, teasing the idea of sinking your teeth into him. Julian sings his praise, grinding down into your lap while exposing his long neck to you, muscles pulled taut and Adam’s apple bobbing.

“Da-haah-ling, you needn’t be so gentle.”

Your tongue lathes across his neck, sucking at pulse points, his fluttering pulse rhythmic against your lips. “You’ve had a tough day, let me treat you, won’t you?”

It’s true the doctor had an eventful time at his clinic, a cold chill spreading and with that, colds of varying degrees. You can feel the slight stubble on his face, a signal he truly has been preoccupied. “Such a hard worker… you deserve something gentle, don’t you?” The question is punctuated with a roll of your hips, one that has Julian gasping like a fish out of water. His fingers curl into your back, clutching you close as he meets your languid thrusts.

“Y-you’re—ah! Too..too kind.” Your lover pants in your ear, pressing breathless kisses to the line of your jaw. “You’ve set the bar too low, handsome.” You coo, planting your hands from his hips to his ass, lightly scratching lilywhite skin with red traces of nails left in its wake. Julian whimpers, a needy noise that makes you feel light and sends a plummet of heat through your body.

“I love you, my smart, brave man,” you whisper your adoration into his ear, smooth like honey and the sweetness of it addictive. You widen your legs under him, bracing your feet and thrusting your hips up to meet Julian’s in a slap of flesh. His mouth drops open, garbled nonsense spilling from slack lips and so you repeat, gripping his hips to tug him down quicker.

“So, so good for me. How’d I get so..huff..lucky?” Your skin feels hot and sweaty, tingling with perspiration. “So beautiful, too. Don’t you know that?” You lean your head back against the propped pillows, digging your nails into Julian’s bony hips. His eyes screw shut and his head tosses back as he grinds down, his ass flush against your pelvis. “Say it back, baby.”

The redhead swallows thickly, gathering his voice that only warbles with each down slide of his hips. “B-beautiful…I’m—uhn.” He whimpers, a gorgeously obscene sound accompanied by the roll of his eyes. You hit him right where he needs it, fire erupting through his veins—a blooming, aching thrum he can’t get enough of. “There! Oh, please!” A sharp intake of breath and a harder thrust has Julian keening, his weeping length slapping against his taut stomach with each bounce. You meet his frantic, desperate thrusts, lifting him with each meeting, his hair bouncing and voice hiccuping from the force.

“You’re such a good man, Ilya. Always, ah, know how t-to make me happy.” You can help the sweet words that flow from your tongue, smooth contrast from the manhandling Julian prefers. He kneels over you, clammy forehead sticking to your shoulder as the bounces of his hips slow to a feverish grind. Your hands smooth over his back, fingers riding along the bumps of his spine.

Suddenly, almost like being doused in cold water, you realize Julian is crying. Your skin is wet with salty tears and you guide your lovers head up to lock his eyes with yours. “Hey—hey, what’s wrong?” You have to still him from moving, making him stop rutting against you to make sure he’s ok. Julian sniffles, red faced and lips kiss swollen. “Am I really a good man?” He asks, sounding small and vulnerable. “Of course you are! You’re brave and intelligent, selfless and kind—you’re all I could ever want.” You thumb away his tears, holding his face with care and adoration.

Like a bursting dam, tears start to burn from his waterline and drip down his cheeks. Julian feels like his heart has lodged in his throat, a delicacy he was still becoming accustomed to. “M-my love, I-I don’t deserve you.” He falls against you, skin flush against skin like he wanted to melt into you. “Yes you do, you deserve everything.”

Julian, without realizing, wipes his nose on your shoulder as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. “Here—let me..” on the small nightstand lays a handkerchief, one you use to clean his dripping nose. The doctor sputters, processing the situation with burning embarrassment. “Sorry…could you, could you tell me, ah,”

You save him from his twisted tongue, setting the handkerchief aside and clearing your throat. “What I love about you? How much good I see in you?” You ponder, rubbing circles over his hip bones. With a quick nod, Julian huffs out a yes, wiping his eyes on the back of his hand.

“Why don’t you lay back, get comfortable.” Julian follows your suggestion eagerly, pulling off of you with a shiver. You move aside, helping him to get adjusted on the soft mattress and settling in between his legs. You lay his legs over your thighs, hips slotting with his as you slowly push back into him. Julian dribbles onto his stomach, thighs trembling, the most decadent little whine escaping him. “There we go, nice and full, yeah? Only the best for my perfect man.” You pull back a little, pushing back in, forming a languid pace while fanning your hand over his stomach. You can feel the tightening of his abdomen and the clenching of his thighs around your hips, his skin sweat slick.

“It’s good..it’s ahh, good.” Julian’s blubbering is barely comprehensible and you can only make out snippets of words.

“I always love how you look under me, the way you wiggle around and the noises you make. Hah, It never fails to get me hot.” You slide in deeper, a little harder and your lover's body jolts up against the sheets, his long legs wrapping around your waist in reflex. You brace your hands beside him, extra stability and aim in your movements. Your heart beats quicker with each snap of your hips, heat flooding through your body with every noise, every face Julian makes.

“By far, that pretty little head of yours doesn’t fail to impress me,” your knees press into the mattress, cushioning while you hammer into him. “So smart and clever… you’ve done things others could only dream of.”

Julian’s nose starts to burn again, scrunching it as a hot wetness rises up to his waterlines. It felt so good to hear what you’re saying, to be forced to listen to what he’s always been so insecure about—it was so cathartic to be able to cry while it happened, letting everything flood while you praise him for it.

A warm palm presses against the side of his warm cheek and his eyes crack open, blurry with tears that soon flow over the curves of his cheeks in thick streams. “How are you doing, my dear?” Such a simple question, yet it has Julian’s sobs growing louder, accompanied by his fervent nodding. He stumbles over his words, wailing his pleas and love, voice stuffy with congestion.

“Good.” Is your single answer, leaning down to capture him in a searing kiss, holding the back of his knees to pry his legs apart. He’s breathless in the kiss, gasping and parting frequently to take in gulps of air before pressing back against you. When your hand closes around his dick, his mind crumbles, any sense of restraint in him shattering and it only takes a few strokes to have him spilling. His body clenches, arms curling around your back to hold you as close as possible, sniffling into your shoulder between his choked calling of your name. Your rocking slows to a gentle glide, coaxing him through his high while the stars bursting behind his eyes start to fade.

You’re already pulling out of him, reaching over for the handkerchief from before, cleaning his face while you coo your love to him. Julian lays there, overwhelmed in everything while you wipe his eyes and nose, pressing soft kisses over his face. He sniffs, wiping his nose again, feeling the bed dip. “I’ll be back, ok?” He’s nodding without realizing, yet his hands trace along your skin until your too far for him to reach. Julian sits up slow, body feeling far too weak.

When you return with water and a washcloth, Julian is all too eager to chug it down, gasping for breath while you clean his cum splattered stomach. “You did so good, I’m so proud.” The praise comes easy, like second nature. “You didn’t..” Julian starts to feel a pang in his chest. Usually he's the one to please you, and yet he has gotten too it yet. “It’s ok, we can do that in a bit, just relax, ok?” You sidle up next to him, setting the empty glass aside and pulling the blanket over his lap.

Typically, Julian would be on his knees right about now, bending over backwards to your every whim—not that he didn’t enjoy it, he’s usually begging for it. Yet, the comfort of being coddled is too great to ignore, perhaps this time he can be a bit more selfish.

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💓

[04.25.21]

I kind of lost the original pic of the meme lmao. Also fun fact: I made a poll and people wanted this threesome ship. So, not my fault. I almost got to draw Vergil x Urizen x V

Just hanging around 😉

(It was my first time I got hung and I liked it so much, damn I want more 😭)

Fabula made these cute avatars for me... in two days (for free) 🦄🌈

About me in a few words 🥞

She/her, identify as agender though. Pansexual, polyamorous, 22 years old.

I'm into BD/SM (sub). I have way too many kinks to list them here but if you ask me I'll answer 💅🏻

I love foreign languages (parlo l'italiano 🇮🇹, talar svenska 🇸🇪), Scandinavia in general, playing the guitar. And my another biggest passion is playing tabletop RPGs (especially D&D and Vampire the Masquerade).

I really like The Elder Scrolls (Skyrim specifically), Star Trek TOS (1960-s, yeah), Tarantino films, heavy music and many other things.

This blog is 18+ since I may go kinky and dirty.

I'm an easy-going and open-minded person, I'm here to follow my friends (all 2 of them), meet new people and exploring somthing new.

Live long and prosper 🖖🌈

“Breed me in my sleep” “Touch me in my sleep” cute but I’m a very light sleeper

I raise you “drug me and use me while I’m passed out” 😌