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lovedazai · 1 day

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WORST BEHAVIOR . . . dazai gets turned on watching you fight and just can’t help himself.

ft. pm!dazai + f!reader, pm!reader, possessive behavior, physical fighting, dazai is a little pervy, one use of ‘good girl’, semi-public & unprotected sex, choking (m!receiving), 2.5k w.c…mdni !!

p.s.! ⊹ ࣪ ˖ i know i’ve been promising this one for a while :< thank you for being patient with me !!

dazai already knows you indulge him; you let him get away with more than anyone else ever would. even outside of work, when he’s stripped of the authority that comes from being the youngest port mafia executive, the unspoken next in line for the throne of yokohama’s underworld, you always give into his whines of five more minutes or just one more kiss, i swear.

if you asked him, it was your own fault that he liked you so much; you were addicting. if the port mafia was a black hole where all light escaped, you were a twinkling star, falling from the sky right into dazai’s blood-soaked hands, and he loves you more than he ever thought he could. you weren’t quite an executive yet, but you were good at what you didー fighting.

there were only a few things in his meaningless life that made him less than bored: drinking with odasaku after work, harassing chuuya to tears, and watching you train, or better yet, getting to see you on a mission. his favorite part was that you always looked so, so hot while you were doing it.

he tries to act surprised when you’re both sent to take care of some low-level group, threatening to leak information that they definitely didn’t have. he didn’t really have to come with you on this assignment, it was below his level as an executive, after all, but he went through all of the trouble of leaking the address to one of the mafia’s “hideouts”, ensuring they’d show up at the dingy warehouse. it looms before the two of you, weathered from the salty air of the port, glass windows splintered and broken.

his coat flutters behind him with every giddy step, happily following after you and your little black skirt; maybe if he was lucky enough, he’d get a peek beneath it.

“are you sure you don’t have somewhere else to be right now?” you turn to look over your shoulder, reaching your hand out for him and intertwining your fingers loosely.

“there’s nowhere else i’d rather be.” he swings your arms between the two of you loosely. you only drop his hand to pull the rusty door open, greeted by three men, all expectantly waiting for you.

“my, my,” he whispers against the curve of your ear. “looks like we’ve been caught.”

“what do we have here? a little girl…” one of the men grins, looking at you in a way that made dazai want to kill him himself. the way his eyes drag up your body stirs an instinct to pull you behind him. “…and her guard dog?”

of course, he’d never put you in any real danger. this group was pathetic, and even at three to one, they didn’t stand a chance against you. dazai can predict all of their moves flawlessly anyway, and you have a implicit understanding that he never gives you more than he knows you can handle. his gun remains heavy against his side, always within his reachー just in case.

his fingers instinctively twitch towards the grip as one of the men reaches to grab you, but you don’t let him, seizing him by the forearm, leg sweeping him from behind and tossing him onto the ground. he falls to the concrete with a groan, looking up at you with a dazed scowl. the heel of your foot connects with his jaw before he can make another move, and he falls still against the ground.

one of the other men comes from the side, but you’re still too quick, catching him out of the corner of your eye and dodging with ease. you hit him hard enough for him to stumble, and you take the opportunity to grab him by the throat, knocking him backward. dazai’s eyes widen, the hair rising against the bandages wrapped around his arms and neck; he was almost jealous. the man chokes as you slam his back against the wall hard enough for his eyes to roll back and his body to crumple to the ground.

there’s only one man left, and your lip splits when his fist connects with your face. dazai’s eyes narrow, and the man’s glaze over in frustration as you recover quick enough to dodge his next hit, crouching low. you curl your leg around his waist from behind, pulling him down to the ground by the back of his shirt until he’s pinned beneath you.

you’re quick to get up, and when you’re far enough away for dazai’s comfort, he aims his gun and fires once, twice, then again before the man falls still.

the only thing heavier than dazai’s presence is his gaze, and you feel it prickle against your skin like the sharp edge of a knife from where he’s still standing in the doorway. when you meet his eyes, they’re red and glowing, and locked onto you.

he walks towards you, only the heavy sound of his shoes against the cement and your quiet breaths filling the warehouse. you swipe your thumb across your lip, breaking his gaze to look at the blood smeared into the crevices of your fingertip before dazai grabs your chin, tilting it upward. his tongue is warm as it traces along the cut before he presses it past your lips. your noise of surprise is muffled as he kisses you, the taste of your own blood permeating your mouth.

he walks you backward until the back of your heels hit the edge of the cold, concrete wall. his mouth never leaves yours, tracing the roof of your mouth and the edge of your teeth as if he doesn’t already have every part of you committed to memory. his cock strains against the fabric of his trousers, poking against your thigh as he presses himself flush against you.

“dazai,” you try to warn, but it isn’t very convincing, breathed out like a hymn; god, his name has never sounded so sweet. he sings your name back with a smile, groping you through your shirt with one hand as the other unbuckles his belt. he slides his fingers down your stomach until he pulls your shirt out from where it’s tucked into your waistband, flipping the hem of your skirt upward to expose those cute little panties. “we’re still…we’re here. in a dirty warehouse.”

“what’s wrong? there’s no one else around. you made sure of that, didn’t you?” he cups your chin between his fingers again and turns your head towards the enemies, bloodied and unconscious, chests heaving shallowly. he presses a kiss to your jaw, trailing up until his lips rest against the curve of your ear. “did you already forget? when their bloodstains haven’t even set into your clothes yet? i didn’t know you could be so cold.”

he unbuttons your shirt with the flick of his thumb, just enough to expose the curve of your tits, sitting oh so prettily in your bra. he skims his fingers against your panties, stroking the soft fabric where your most sensitive spot is covered. he pulls them aside, giggling against your ear when you’re already wet as he slips his middle and pointer fingers inside of you. your frown falters as he curls them with expert precision, eyelids fluttering in bliss as something achingly sweet ignites in your stomach.

“you know what i was thinking while i was watching you?” he drops his voice low, watching the way you sink your teeth into your bottom lip when he finds your clit, grinding the heel of his palm against it in pressured circles. “‘i wonder how it’d feel for her to choke me like that…to wrap these pretty little fingers around my neck and squeeze’.”

the lingering adrenaline of a fight and dazai’s body pressed so close to yours makes you feel dizzy. you part your lips to reply, but his hand is back on your jaw before you can respond, brushing his mouth over yours teasingly.

“do you have any idea what you do to me?” the pad of his thumb is cold against your warm cheek. he strokes himself with the slick collected on his fingers, pressing into you with the tip of his cock. his bangs fall over his eyes as he hangs his head and watches you stretch around the shape of him, disappearing inside your warm cunt inch by inch.

your nails dig into his arms, feeling his lithe muscles tense through the expensive fabric of his coat. he pries your hands off, fingers wrapping around your wrists as he pins them against the wall, holding them in place with one hand. his grin bites against your neck as you throw your head back and arch your hips instinctively.

“my good girl,” he breathes, sucking the skin beneath your ear between his teeth, soothing it with a kiss when you whine. “my sweet, perfect girl.”

“mhm,” you exhale, your own breath getting caught in your throat. your back is pressed against the cool cement behind you, with dazai’s firm chest flush against your front. the broken window above you pools sunlight over your half-dressed bodies. “yours.”

you feel his uneven breathing against your skin as he presses his lips against your jaw. his cock rubs against you deliciously, velvet walls fluttering and clinging to him each time he pulls his hips back. it’s so easy to melt into him like this, with the security of his hands against your skin, his soft hair tickling your neck, and his cock filling you perfectly, like you were made for him to take.

he lifts your leg, fingers squeezing the plush of your thigh and supporting your weight. he thrusts inside you at a new angle, hitting the slightest bit deeper, but it’s just enough to make you gasp as your belly flutters and your knees nearly buckle beneath his palm as he holds you up. your hands clench around nothing, nails digging into your palms in a desperate need to hold onto something.

“the way you threw that man and pinned him to the ground,” he whispers. “would you do that to me?”

“no,” you’re breathless, words lost on you as your mind clouds over with pleasure. his hips grind against yours, the head of his cock kissing the deepest part of you as your eyes roll backward. “i don’tー i’d never hurt you.”

“but i’d let you,” he rasps. “you could do whatever you want to me.”

he lets go of your wrists, and you bend your leg around his waist, trying to press him even deeper. you balance on your tip toes as he thrusts into you harshly, curling your arms around his shoulders, as if his cock nestled inside you wasn’t close enough; it was never enough when it came to dazai.

“fuck,” your voice is breathy and broken, and it echoes throughout the gutted warehouse. the heat building in your stomach is already overwhelming, rushing to your head until you feel drunk on it. your muscles are taut, toes curled as you feel him throb inside you, his hips stuttering. “osamu.”

his grip on you tightens, and he whines; it’s just barely audible, and you would’ve missed it if he wasn’t right next to your ear. your eyes are hazy, half open as you look at him through your lashes as he watches the way your tits bounce against the fabric of your bra in time with his movements.

your hand trembles as you lift it, closing your fingers loosely around his neck and pulling his gaze back to yours. you can’t help but grin, lips curving up into a drunken smile as you watch his cheeks flush a pretty pink and his eyebrows furrow in pleasure. dazai rarely expresses his emotions so openly, and you commit it to memory as best you can through the fuzzy feelings of bliss blurring the edges of your mind. he lets out the prettiest noise, something between a moan and a cry vibrating against your palm, his cock throbbing inside you as you squeeze his bandaged neck.

his thrusts grow sporadic, breathy moans growing in volume. his nails dig into your hips, and you rub your clit desperately, quivering in his grip as you feel him stall and cum, warm and deep inside you.

everything fades to static as the sweetness in your belly burns brighter and brighter until it finally explodes into white, hot, sparkling pieces that pierce your vision. dazai pants and hangs his head, but his eyes snap to yours as you mumble something close to “cummingー”, always so desperate to take in the pretty way you fall apart for him, because of him.

he whimpers when you draw your hand from his throat to his face, brushing his bangs away from his eyes. you cup his cheek, smoothing your thumb against the tape holding his small patch of gauze in place as you breathe in one another.

your legs ache, tensed muscles finally relaxing as you lower your foot back to the ground unsteadily. your head falls against the wall with a final sigh, chest heaving. dazai is beaming at you when you peek your eyes open after a few moments, looking irritatingly adorable with his messy hair and crooked tie.

“i can’t believe we did that here,” you glance towards the pieces of shattered glass that litter the ground.

“you loved it,” he smiles, brushing the tip of his nose against yours. “you love me〜”

he pulls out of you carefully, snapping your underwear back into place. you grip his tie, wrapping it around your hand and pulling him in to press your mouth to his before straightening it and sliding the knot back into place.

he pouts as he watches you start to button your shirt back up, squeezing your waist softly.

“can’t you leave some open?”

your glare is weak, and he meets it with a smile. he slides his coat off his shoulders, draping it over your own to hide your wrinkled clothes.

“i’ll call a car to get us,” he hums, slipping his hand into your own as he guides you outside the warehouse. “i’ll even give you the rest of the day off for a good performance!”

you rest your head on his shoulder, sleepy and sated. the breeze is cool on your warm skin, carrying the scent of the sea as it gently brushes through your hair.

“you know,” he starts, typing away at his phone, still as happy as ever. “you still owe me lunch from losing that bet last week.”

he has another tease on the tip of his tongue, but he falters when he sees the red splotch of blood staining your pouted lips. he slips his hand beneath your chin and tilts your face towards him. he frowns at the cut, visible eye narrowing as he brushes his thumb against the corner of your mouth.

you wrap your hand around his wrist loosely, pulling it back to press your lips to his palmー i’m okay. he sees one of the mafia’s black cars pulling in from the corner of his eye, and presses a lingering kiss to your foreheadー i know. he pulls the lapels of his jacket tighter around your shoulders before he slips his hand back into yours, and when he walks you to the car, his coat flutters behind you.

BSD MASTERLIST

#💌 . . . with love mai ⊹ ࣪ ˖#dazai x reader #dazai x you #bsd x you #bsd x reader #dazai smut #bsd smut #dazai imagines #bsd imagines #dazai osamu x you #dazai osamu x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #ʚ shhh ɞ

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simp-forlife · 2 days

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Satoru Gojo X Fem;Reader Oneshot

Scenario: Too many beds (This probably makes no sense but it's the complete opposite of the one bed trope, I just thought it would be fun) ANYWAYS you and Satoru are staying at a hotel and you decide to tease him by choosing to sleep in a different bed than him.

Warnings: Slight Smut/NSFW, cussing, YOU CHOOSING NOT TO SLEEP IN THE SAME BED AS SATORU

Word count: 540 very short, lmk if you want a longer version

Side Notes: I was thinking about doing this same idea with other JJK male characters but I obv don't want to put something that people aren't going to like so if you want more of this idea, lmk:) Requests are open!!<3

Anyways enjoy the read lovies!!

You and Satoru had decided to just stay at a hotel for the night after a disgustingly long and tiring mission, and of course he chose the most lavish hotel he could find near you. He would never let his little sweetheart stay anywhere less than perfect.

Satoru deeply regretted picking this hotel; he actually wished to burn it to the ground. You lay in bed, covers brought up to your chin, watching your favorite show plastered on the TV in front of you. Usually this wouldn't bother Gojo at all; he would actually adore the sight, but tonight he laid their pouting. Pouting in a bed that you were not in. Those dumbasses had given Satoru a room that had two beds, and for some reason you wanted one all to yourself.

"Baby, please let me come lay with you." You hear Satoru whine, causing your eyes to divert from the television.

"It's only one night," you say, giggling at the sight of your boyfriend's pouty state. Of course you weren't going to sleep in a separate bed than him; you just wanted to tease him a little bit. Make up for all those times he bullied the hell out of you.

You really had meant to let him know he could come into the bed with you, but you were so fucking tired, you couldn't help it when your eyes drooped closed, dragging you into a heavy slumber.

You were soon awakened by Satoru peppering kisses along your neck and jaw with heavy breaths. "Satoru, what are you doing?" You whine sleepily, relishing in the feeling of his lips against your skin.

"You know I can't sleep without you, baby. He mumbles against your skin, the vibrations causing you to gasp. "So mean to me," he adds, nipping at your neck. "That's not how my sweet baby is supposed to act, is it?"

You shake your head at his question,feeling his arms snake around your waist, and suddenly you are on top of him, his large hand landing a hard smack on your bare ass.

"Use your words, sweetheart," he scolds, clicking his tongue and shaking his head. You were panting at this point, desperate for his touch, his voice, all of him.

"No," you say breathlessly, your cheek pressed against his chest while his hand moved to graze your lower back.

"Aww, so you can use that pretty head of yours..." He cooes, pressing kisses against your hair. You stiffen as you feel his hand move in between your thighs, one of his fingers grazing your entrance. You moan at the sudden touch, causing a small chuckle to leave his lips.

"So needy, huh?" He teases, slipping his finger in, feeling your pussy suck it in instinctively and hearing a loud moan roll off your lips, but he was quick to pull it out, pushing his soaked finger into your mouth, watching as you slowly sucked on it.

"It's a shame you didn't use that head of yours earlier," he mumbles, squeezing you tightly against his chest. "You wouldn't have had to go to bed all hot and bothered." He finished, humming happily as he closed his eyes, listening to your little whines of protest.

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yayy you made it!

#jjk x reader #gojo satoru #jjk satoru #gojou satoru x reader #satoru smut #jjk smut #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojo smut #Spotify

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littlemarianah · 2 days

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Now after this post you have to write a smut of Peeta and Katniss fucking in nature.

in response to this post.

Alright then, we all know that everlark is wild and raw! So I'll do it.

I lay down on the sand listening to the sound of lake water in my ear. On this sunny summer afternoon, after eating all those wild fruits we found on the way here. Everything seemed perfect. I spread my body on the warm sand and relax.

I hear Peeta start to draw on the paper, those rough chalks on the smooth sheet of paper. He puts the picnic blanket on the floor and sat down next to me. He doesn't like lying in the ground with nothing in between his butt from the dirt. It's silly, I laugh.

"What is it?" he asks, looking at me with his blond eyelashes shining in the sunlight. He looks so handsome today, his forehead is sweaty from the summer heat. There's only one thing that can make this afternoon better.

"I want you to kiss me." I say.

"Okay then." Peeta puts down the sheets of paper and leans over my body, giving me a peck on the lips, still tasting like wild strawberries.

"No, Peet. Give me a real kiss." I beg. He smiles, pleased to see me beg, but I don't care. He kisses me again, with a soft mouth this time, letting me use my tongue. When his hands touch my neck and his fingers tangle in my hair I feel such a strong heat in my stomach that I lose my breath. The feeling grows and spreads throughout my body making my face burn. My hands cup his cheeks and I bring him closer, if that's even possible. I want him with everything in my body. I want to devour him. I want more.

My hands go up to his hair, the more his lips move on mine, the more I feel like it's impossible not to have him for me right now. I lift my sundress up to the middle of my stomach, Peeta glances over and looks surprised. "Oh, love." he says breathlessly. "Do you really want to do this in the sand?”

"Please, Peeta." I say sighing.

He purses his lips, taking courage and wipes his hand on his shirt for a considerable time. He touches me through the fabric of my panties. It's enough to make my eyes soften and my head fall back. His eyes shine on mine and he kisses me again. This time, fiercely. With his hands running circles over my clitoris. It's not wonderful, but it's the spark I need to go crazy. I suck his lips with mine, I let my voice come out without any shame. We are in the middle of the forest, who could hear us?

My feet sink into the sand the more my body moves in pleasure. I take my hands to the hem of Peeta's pants and try undo his belt. I'm a little too dizzy to do this alone, so he helps me. It seems to me that he is also eager to have me because it takes him a little too long to get his pants down.

"You always catch me off guard." he says. I dig my fingers into the sand as he drags my underwear out. I open my legs and he lies between them. My lips tremble in anticipation of what is to come. I can't look away from his blue eyes.

He slides inside me and he lets out a moan so deep that it makes my belly burn. His voice sounds so good in my ears. I feel the difference there is when he doesn't put his fingers in first. He opens me up and I tighten around him. It's maddening. My body is so weak, that my arms can barely wrap around his neck. My eyes close. I lose my breath, my chest starts rises and falls so fast it feels like I'm hyperventilating.

I open my eyes again, and see him looking at me, just as stun as I am. His eyes don't leave mine for a second, blue and bright, wanting me so fiercely that it sends a shiver down my spine. Peeta pushes my leg open, being able to go a little deeper. I don't want to look into his eyes anymore, my moans are louder and more acute than I would like them to be, following my trembling breath.

“Katniss... is it good like that? ." Peeta whispers, I give an angry growl at his question. As if I wasn't already acting completely crazy under him. I refuse to answer. His lips come and touch mine, they crush each other. Gasps come out of his mouth and his tongue vibrates with his moans. "Tell me if it's good." he repeats the question.

I take a deep breath and hug his neck. "Obviously it's good." I moan.

That's it, guys. I let your imagination flow now. 🫣🤧 I'm tired lol Maybe one day I'll finish it and put it on Ao3

#tw: suggestive #the hunger games #thg #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #everlark #thanks for the ask!#everlark smut

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earthtooz · 3 months

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x : TO LOVE, TO CHANGE: *+ﾟ

in which: you tell veritas you love him. he gets upset with you.

warnings: contrary to what the synopsis implies, it's fluff, i promise. 1k words, first time saying ily, slightly cranky reader, no mentions of reader's gender, dr. ratio being so in love he becomes so soppy and lovestruck. confessions.

a/n: there's a phenomenon that happens whenever i write for dr. ratio, and it's that my heart literally lunges out of my chest and begins typing at the keyboard for me. i should get it checked out. anyways, this is to preemptively celebrate his release!!

“Why- why are you mad?” You exclaim, watching the way Veritas crosses his arms and pouts with the petulance of a child. His gaze has strayed away from your eyes, and all you can do is sit in his lap with your arms hanging at your sides, brain tirelessly racking for all the reasons that you could have angered him.

He doesn’t give you any clues, displeasure brewing in his eyes instead.

“Is it because I said ‘I love you’?”

The purple haired scoffs and sticks up his nose, hair bouncing with his actions whilst you jostle slightly on his legs from the quick action. As much as you love his side profile, you’d love it even more if he spoke to you about what is bothering him.

During this moment, the world stills. You think he’s genuinely mad, and Dr. Ratio’s fury-driven state is not something you should take lightly. Really, you’ve seen it multiple times, and though it has never been directed at you, you hope it never will be. Which is why you sit on his lap now, tensely anticipating his response, and for the answer as to what you did wrong.

“I was meant to say it first,” he grumbles, losing the arrogance that fills his tone whenever he speaks, air filling with sincerity.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. I was meant to be the one to say ‘I love you’ first.”

Your confusion is tangible at this point. Audible, if you will, because it rings like cicada sing. “Are you being serious?”

“Deadly.”

“You- why, then couldn’t you just have said it?” You sputter, slapping his defined deltoid, concern slowly melting into frustration. “Need I remind you that it was me who confessed to you first as well?”

“Yes, and it was positively the best day of my life.” He says that like it’s a simple fact. No sentiment, no heartfelt declaration, just another logical statement straight from a textbook of his life.

They say to be loved is to be changed, but no matter how much you love Veritas, all he knows is how to be an astronomical pain in your ass. Does he know how scared you were for his answer? You thought you did something unforgivable, or that he didn’t love you enough to respond in kind, or worst of all, that he wanted nothing to do with you anymore?

However, he's acting petty because he was not the first one to say those three words? You frankly don’t know why your heart beats for him as strongly as it does. In fact, you want to whack him over the head with his own codex.

Placing your hands firmly on his shoulders, you shuffle out of your position from his lap, planting your feet onto the ground. “Oh, you are so infuriating! Pretend I never said anything, I’m going back to my office until you-”

Not even two steps away from him and a hand clasps around your wrist to drag you back to where you started: on Dr. Ratio’s lap. His arms come to wrap around you like chains, leaving no room to wrestle him out.

“I never said you could leave. Especially not after telling me you love me,” he grumbles lowly into your collarbone, breath tickling your skin.

“I’m starting to regret it.”

“Can’t you at least say it again?”

“I don’t want to,” you grumble, arms snaking up to rest around his shoulders. “You don’t deserve it.”

“Well, that’s a little harsh. Is this how you treat the ones you love?”

“You haven’t even said anything back,” you pinch his skin. “Talk about harsh.”

“Do you remember the first time we met?” he asks with a fond chuckle, not missing the opportunity to leave kisses in a trail along your skin, making his way up your neck. Then, when his eyes meet yours, you almost crumble in embarrassment at the memory he’s injected into your mind.

You push him away and raise a hand to shield your eyes from him, clearly reliving a haunting memory. “Please don’t remind me.”

“Y’know, it’s not everyday someone gets to scold me and be right. If you weren’t so beautiful, I wouldn’t have let it slide, but it’s not everyday a gorgeous genius falls into my lap with guts to challenge me.”

“I was… agitated that day, so stop talking about it, please. In fact, for my sake, please just forget that moment. Completely.”

“Forget about it? Completely?” The scholar asks with genuine shock lacing his tone. “I fell in love with you in that very moment, how can you expect me to stop talking about it? You rendered me a fool in love and expect me to not think about the very moment it happened? Sweetheart, it was a pivotal moment of my life!”

“Not pivotal enough if you can’t even say ‘I love you, too’.”

“On the contrary, I have loved you longer. I yearned for you in wakefulness and in my dreams. I wished for you to look my way, and when you did, I never wanted your eyes to stray from me. How heartbreaking it was when they did.” His hand has snuck under your shirt now to rub circles on your skin. If he detached from you, he fears you’d slip away from him, and the worst thing you can give him is space. “Do you know how it felt chasing after you because you were the only one out of my reach? For three years, the only thing I wanted was to be yours. You made me an idiot.”

Stunned by his confession and the weight of it, you let him continue, sharp tongue softening. The only motivation you offer is a hand coming to cup his cheek, tucking aside his bangs so you can see his expression in its entirety.

His gold eyes shine when they look back up at you. For the first time, you feel like you’re seeing the parts of him that Veritas hides from everyone else.

“I love you.” He continues with heart wrenching devotion. “I’ll continue loving you until the streams stop, the rivers freeze, and the oceans dry. With three hundred thousand, eighty-three thousand, five hundred and seventy-one discovered planets in the cosmos, that phenomenon will approximately take-”

You seal his lips with yours in a gentle kiss, cradling his jaw and swallowing his words. Like wax to fire, Veritas sinks into you, completely helpless against your affections.

But, oh, you love him, and nothing else in the entire universe matters.

#earthtooz: honkai star rail #dr ratio x reader #veritas ratio x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #ratio x reader #dr ratio fluff

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winterzsurprise · 11 months

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Ride me? || Miguel O'hara

Pairing: Miguel O'hara (Spider-Man 2099) x F!reader

Tags: Overstimulation, rough sex, choking, squirting, vaginal fingering, big dick Miguel, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids), fang kink if you squint.

Words: 1.8k

Summary: Just when you thought he's exhausted enough from chasing Miles Morales and had given you the chance to actually ride him, Miguel has other plans.

This man evokes something so feral in me that I forgot I was suffering through the worst writer's block. He got me giggling and twirling my hair yesterday at the cinema wtf. I used my very limited Mexican Spanish knowledge from watching streamers flirting in a block game for this.

cariño - honey || mi vida - my life || mi amor - my love || guapito - handsome

Miguel isn't the type to let someone control the pace, even if he did, his hands grounded on your waist would soon guide your hips into a rhythm he prefers, hard and fast.

You've been hearing the ruckus down the spider webs, something about another version rebelling against the usual stories of every Spider-Man in the multiverse to save his dad. Knowing that your husband sits at the top as their leader, you expected him to disappear for a long period of time.

Not that you mind of course, he's had plenty of times he charges in to handle an anomaly himself.

You do have to give some kudos to the kid for trying to change reality though. After Miguel's story, nobody in the headquarters, even you, dared to defy the fates laid upon every Spider-Man.

It's been three days since he left and honestly, you didn't expect him to arrive yet. A person deterring from the fates of every Spider-Man would be hard to handle, you couldn't even imagine how difficult it'd be.

So when the doors to your apartment flew open and came to him, practically drooping from exhaustion, you were surprised.

He came earlier than expected.

"How'd the chase go?"

"I don't want to talk about it. Come here."

Drying your hands off on the towel hanging from the wall counter, you made your way to the man laid spread and heaving on the couch. His head tipped back with his usually neatly gelled hair now haggard and messy, he looked up when he sensed your presence and immediately pulled you onto his lap.

You laughed. "Don't fall asleep here, I don't want to carry your heavy ass."

His lips tugged into a weak smile, his pointy canines briefly appearing.

"Spider-Man is supposed to help the weak, are you really ignoring a civilian in need?"

You didn't get what he meant until he pulled your hips closer, dragging your core over the tent on his pants.

You hit his arm. "Go to sleep, you must've been really tired after chasing that kid around."

"Then ride me."

You paused before narrowing your eyes at him. He's baiting you with the very thing you've wanted to do since the beginning. But the dark cloud of lust in his eyes somehow convinced you of his genuineness.

His talons dug onto your flesh, hard enough to take control of your hips to grind on top of his dick sensually while keeping eye contact with yours. You couldn't ignore the pleasure and jolts of heat electrifying and burning your nerve endings alight at every drag of your heat over his.

"I want to feel you baby, I miss you so much."

Miguel pushes you down on his hardness and you moan, the feeling of his girth finding home between your legs shot electric pleasure down your spine.

"You are a convincing man."

"And you love it."

You lunged for a kiss and instantly, one of his hands threaded itself onto the back of your head, locking you in place as your lips danced against each other in a fierce battle. The raw hunger after being starved for a week now surfacing and consuming you both, mind and body.

His other hand guided your hips up and down his clothed dick, his deep groans and growl lit fireworks in you, igniting your determination to coax more of them out of his lips.

"Get rid of the pants or I'll rip it off of you."

"Rip it then."

He didn't need to hear you twice.

In one quick motion, he tore your sweatpants into two before doing the same thing to your panties and throwing them somewhere in the room. He groaned as his head fell onto the crook of your neck, hands crawling up to cup your breasts before your top and bra suffered the same fate as your other clothing.

"The pants, only the pants! I loved that bra!"

"I'll buy you something better, from another universe even." He responded, almost breathless as your scent invaded every speck of his senses. Miguel groaned. "Fuck, I miss this scent of yours baby."

"I don't care, get rid of the suit."

His attire dissolved into thin air and retracted back to god-knows-where, revealing his ruffled shirt and grey sweatpants that did nothing but proclaim his clear desire for you.

"Let me prep you real good, huh?"

Retracting his talons, two of his fingers delved into your heat, immediately drenching itself with your arousal and he groaned.

"So wet for me, mi amor."

"Only for you, guapito."

Two of his digits rolled your clit sensually and with the dexterity of an experienced man, urging more of your arousal to coat his fingers further. Once he was satisfied with the amount of fluid now dripping into his pants, he wandered lower and lower until he plunged his index in, curling it up so deliciously you moaned and grinded your hips onto the slow plunge of his hand.

His eyes watched your heat like a ravenous man holding back, the feral look on his face only pulled you closer to the edge.

And it's only a finger in.

"So tight, mi vida. You treat me so well."

He added two fingers in and you screamed, his pace now rapidly gaining speed. Your eyes rolled back as your hips thrashed and clumsily followed his thrusts, there was nothing else that mattered more than coming for your darling in that moment.

Miguel groaned, watching your face twist into the most sinful display of pleasure he has ever seen. The pride and smugness from knowing it was all because of him made him smile.

Only he could see you in such a state and no one else.

You clenched around his digits, tempting him to finally take the dive. Although his fingers coaxed pleasure out of you with no problem, you missed the feeling of his dick carving your insides, stretching you thin and reminding your cunt who it belongs to.

But Miguel ignored the bait and instead hastened up while curling up to push on your g-spot. You almost blacked out from the euphoria he feeds you, a coil in your stomach tightened and you moaned.

"I'm cl-close… Fuck!"

"Give it to me baby, I want it all."

It didn't last long until the coil exploded and your arousal squirts out of your cunt to drench Miguel's shirt, whose gaze turned a shade darker at the scene when you peered down to meet his gaze.

A tense atmosphere rose from his mere gaze and goosebumps prickled your skin. Your heartbeat jumped through the roofs as you stared back at his dark eyes, he triggered your spidey sense.

And for some sick reason, it only ignited the simmering arousal in the pits of your abdomen.

"Fuck the ride, you're not getting up until I say so, cariño."

You barely sensed him flipping you both, with you now seated and spread on the sofa while he stood in front of you, hastily removing his remaining clothing as if it angered him.

It didn't take long until his hand cautiously wrapped around your neck and his other, pinning your hips as he plunged himself deep into your cunt. You screamed as he pushed more of him, inch by inch. He stretched you out to the point of no return, the burn of his cock carving you open once more made you light-headed.

And he loves nothing more but seeing the cock-drunk look on your face.

Miguel grinned, his fangs protruding so attractively. "God, I love how fucked you look for me, cariño. Give me more."

He pulls and plunged himself back in, shooting hot white pleasure in your body. Miguel didn't wait long before his usual hard and rough pace started. The hand around your throat tightened and your mind turned woozy from the lack of oxygen, his thrust taking your breath away only evoking the feeling of nirvana within you.

He drove in you hard and quick enough you can distantly hear the couch legs wincing as it gets pushed back with every plunge of his dick.

"Fuck…!"

"That's right darling, I'm fucking my sweet cariño open and wide for me."

The electric shocks the head of his cock briefly grazing the head of your uterus sent your legs flailing on his sides. Growing bothered by them, he halts to rest them on his wide shoulders and wraps his arm around your thigh before entering somehow deeper into you.

Your hands found his meaty thigh and dug itself onto it and it encouraged him to go even faster, pushing you closer to the edge and you swore you could see the pearly gates of the heavens.

"I'm co-coming…! Miguel!"

"Give it to me baby, you know how much I love seeing you convulse so helplessly around me."

The hand on your throat left to find purchase on your clit, rubbing you as fast his cock plunges into you.

With a scream, you came.

Your legs trembled violently on his shoulder as more of your arousal spurts out of your heat, white hot pleasure burned and stirred every nerve ending awake as your eyes rolled back.

But this doesn't seem to be enough for Miguel who only took a break to see your thighs convulse before continuing his thrusts.

You hit his thighs as he kickstarted another orgasm now bubbling in the pit of your stomach but he paid no heed.

Not that you minded of course, if anything, it only pleases the sick bastard in your head, wishing to be used and fucked so well by your husband like it's your sole purpose.

"I'm so close, baby. Can you give me another one? Surely you can, right?"

His fingers rubbed your clit to the point of pain yet it somehow enhanced the pleasure growing larger in your chest and you screamed. Miguel bent down to rest his sweaty forehead on your shoulder, in the clouded state you were in, you could make out the sharp points of his canines pushing down your skin.

The threat of his bite shot jolts down to your heavily beaten cunt, once again tightening its coil. The frequent groans and low growls escaping his lips alone told you he's near to climax.

And with that, he's dragging you down with him.

"Please please please, give it to me…!"

"Yes, cariño. Anything, Anything for you."

With a couple of thrust, scorching hot explodes inside of you and Miguel slows down, almost into a halt as he rides down his high. The face of pure unadulterated ecstasy painting his face, along with his fingers, you came with another shout.

When he's calmer, he lets his sweaty body fall into your arms before reaching around to do the same.

As your breathing returns to normal and the fog in your head clears, Miguel places a gentle kiss on your temple and cheeks.

"I love you so much, cariño."

"I love you more, guapito."

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara imagine #spider-man: into the spiderverse fics #spider man: across the spider verse fics #spider-man fics #spider-man smut #miguel o'hara x reader one shot #miguel o'hara one shot

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azullumi · 27 days

Text

"once more to see you" ; aventurine

summary — to him, love was like a religion waiting to be discovered and he’ll find god in the way the sun looks on your skin; alternatively, aventurine thinks he’s rotten work and tiring to take care of but not to you, not if it's him (please get the reference).

pairing — aventurine (w/ gender-neutral reader)

tags — established relationship (but aventurine wants to de-establish it), somewhat fluff, slight angst with comfort, never proofread never what?!!, 1.3k ; ficlet

note — 2.1 broke me (the whole quest knocked at the door of my house, shook my hands, congratulated me, and invited itself into my home before pouring water on my face, slapping me, throwing me around, and left with the door open, all the while, my family watched). this is day 1 of writing for aventurine until i have him.

“you have a lot of moles.” his voice, despite a gentle whisper, tears through the silence of the night like a drop of water that ruptured and disturbed the surface of the pond. “especially here.” he gently taps on your skin; they seem like stars, he swallows the words back down.

you feel aventurine’s finger trace on the back of your neck and the curve of your shoulders, seemingly drawing—or connecting something. it was ticklish, the way he gently drags his hand and ghosts over your skin, a soft laugh slipping past your lips (you’ll capture his touch on your skin as if you were a sinner remembering how forgiveness tasted on your lips). there was something intimate that lingers in the air between you two as you lay in his bed with him, a fleeting moment that will be inked into your mind.

(the both of you leave your titles behind, mixed together with the scattered objects on the floor, laid on the cold ground to be picked up and worn later like a shiny medal even if you weren’t proud to have them.)

“they say it’s where your lover kissed you the most in your past life.” you stir in your position as you speak, coming to face him and meet his pretty jewel-like eyes—how alluring it was, painted with vivid colors yet it never shines. the sound of mirth laughter bubbles from his throat, a pleasant melody to your ears.

he asks, curiosity tracing the tone of his voice, “and from where did you even hear that?” and you shrug, bringing your form closer to him as you seek for more warmth, “i can’t recall. perhaps i heard it from topaz or maybe from one of the members of the ipc? they’re the only ones i often see and talk to.”

“the doctor?” he wraps his arm around your figure, his hand settling on the small of your back.

“that man will only scorn at that idea and call it stupid. he’ll most likely say that ‘only fools would believe such concepts.’” you mimic the way the esteemed doctor spoke, from the serious expression that he always don on his face to the deepening of his voice. your seemingly successful imitation earned a chuckle from the blonde-haired man before you.

“i’m sure he will.”

silence falls between you two and you took this time to adore each and every line of his being. a few strands of hair fall over his eyes—beautiful, captivating, mesmerizing, you could list out every word to describe his eyes but it would never be enough. you had always wondered why he would hide it until you witnessed the reason why he does so.

aventurine seems to study your expression at the same also, a soft look on his face as he did, and you can’t help but be curious. “what are you thinking about?” you ask him, breaking the silence that nurtured itself in the space between you and him.

you, he wishes to answer. how you look at this moment in his embrace: you were wearing one of his shirts, albeit, not exactly to your size but you insisted, saying that you liked it as it smelled like him. how gentle, loving, adoring, you were everything; he looks and thinks of you as if you were his everything (he doesn’t deserve you). but he doesn’t say it—the thought weighs too heavily on his mind, claws at his throat, and suffocates him—, instead he utters something entirely different that creates a shift in the air between you two.

“i don’t think i can do this.” he turns his head to look away from you, staring at the ceiling instead. it seems to extend itself far and far away from him.

the horrible part of being human is the tendency for destruction that lies in your bones. stained palms, calloused pads, despite the gentleness of your touch and the comfort of your caress. the desire to devour flesh and bones, to understand the underlying thoughts and meanings behind words and unexpressed feelings by consuming them. to submerge and drown in the depths of one's despair and desire (too close that the line blurs into one). the horrible part of being him was his tendency to destroy—hesitation and doubt lies in his being and aches at his chest, tugging on his heart’s strings, and settles on his throat—, it’s not like he doesn’t want to hold you, it’s just that he can’t.

“do what?”

“this.” you know exactly what he was referring to, know what he’s afraid of. he has laid himself bare and vulnerable in front of you countless of times that you have memorized the constellations that adorns his skin. you know him, you have known him enough to recognize the fear that tugs on his voice and see the walls that he tries to build up in front of you. you know him enough to know what thoughts are plaguing his mind.

“why do you think so?”

“don’t you think i’m too much to take care of?” he tries not to choke on his words and bite his tongue, careful not to let his voice crack lest he crumbles underneath your caress. i am undeserving of it. worthless. failure. selfish. discarded. coward. loser. nothing. you are bound to leave.

“not for me.” you caress his cheek and guide him to look at you—instead of the ceiling that seems to appear farther than it originally was in each passing second as the walls glean over him like a shadow—, to meet your gaze and see the sincerity that lurks deep within. “never will i get tired of you. so, let me carry your burden.”

he takes a few seconds to answer, uncertainty lingering in his tone: “it’s not yours to have.”

“it may not be.” you answer with no hesitation, “but it doesn’t mean that you must shoulder them alone.”

he opens his mouth to speak but unable to find the words to say, he closes them. there was a moment of stillness shared between you two. comfort, relief, assurance seeps into the ache of his bones and you say something too heavy even for this steady and silent night to hold, the words too much to be held—light spills in like a flood as if it was pouring out from the sun itself.

“i love you.”

“you utter such words as if it’s something easy for you.” as if loving him was just as simple as waking up in the morning and adoring the way the honey-light hugs your form as the dust settles in the corner of your room. when he’s stripped of everything and left with nothing, would you still love him the same? would you still kiss him as gently as you did? would you still hold the shards of his form even if it makes your hand bleed?

you spoke in a gentle yet firm croon, gaze unwavering, “because it is.”

you see the falter in his expression: his face, that once was crumpled, relaxed and so did his gaze soften. and you smile at him with only adoration in your eyes—like a devout follower to a divine being. “are you still afraid?”

“i don’t know.” he whispers.

“it’s alright. you have all the time in the world.” your hand weaves itself into his own, fingers lacing with one another, and you gently squeeze. it was a form of reassurance, a way of telling him that you’re here with him through all of it.

the warmth has settled in your being and you spill yourself into the cracks of his vulnerability. “i love you.” you say once more and you kiss the mark on his neck—lingering and soft as if you wish that it would take all his hurt away. the way he shudders underneath your touch, the hitch of his breath soon followed by a gentle sigh as he cradles you closer to him tells you everything that you wish to hear.

for once, he sleeps as if he had nothing to carry, nothing that shackles him to the stars that forsakes him.

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brairslair · 3 months

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more smutty scenarios for monster trio x fem!reader

EVERYONE IS 18+ (minors please dni !)

a/n: sooo, i elaborated… switched it up a little from the original idea but basically just how i think some sleepy sex scenarios w the op men would go (please bear with me i wrote this while sleep deprived and have not touched it since)

don’t forget to like, reblog, and comment to support my work! mwah <3

“good morning”

luffy

wakes up with his arms wrapped around you, head in your chest, knees brushing yours

his head is all fuzzy with sleep, and you’re scent is surrounding him like a warm blanket

he’s already smiling all dopey and sleepy before he even opens his eyes

just bc he knows you’ll be there when he does

when you’re eyes flutter open he can’t help but stare at you

and maybe you have a little drool at the corner of your mouth, and maybe your hair looks like a total mess, but he couldn’t care less

he thinks you look so beautiful and sweet the way you’re looking at him, and then when you yawn out a soft “good morning” he can’t help but kiss you

because he can’t keep his hands (or his mouth in this instance) off of you for more than like 5 minutes max

he kisses soft little sweet pecks to your lips over and over until you’re both giggling, and he’s kissing all over your face

he’ll genuinely kiss every single inch of your face until he winds up back at your lips

except this time his kisses aren’t little sweet pecks

they’re still gentle and slow, but so much deeper

and then he’s slipping his tongue into your mouth and you guys are fully making out

his hands are slowly roaming up and down the sides of your body

luffy is usually pretty fast paced and straight to the point, so you only really get him at this speed when he’s tired ^^

things will get heated pretty quickly, languid, sloppy kisses paired with you hooking a leg around his waist

he’d firmly grab at your hip, bringing you down against his rapidly growing erection at a steady and slow rhythm, both of you still in your underwear

he’d be so gentle and tender about it

not wanting it to be too much for you

you stay curled up against each other on your side, invading each others space in the beat way

he loves being so close to your face

being able to watch you so closely as your lips part and your eyebrows furrow

he’s all smiley and fucked out already and you’ve barely done anything

but you’re so warm, and you’re soft little whimpers are so pretty, and you feel so good rubbing against him

his arm is wrapped around you, pulling you as close to him as possible, because he just wants to feel all of you

hand under the thin material of your t-shirt, cool against your warmed skin, he flips you so that you’re straddling him

and he’s still moving your hips to grind against him as he lives on you

his already blunt nature would increase tenfold, because he has absolutely no filter when he’s sleepy

he would also be mumbling and slurring his words because talking is too much effort

“feel s’good”

“lips are sooo soft”

“wanna cum together, can y’do that?”

he’ll absolutely melt if you rest your hand on his cheek or his jaw while you let him make you feel good

and he loves it if you litter sleepy kisses on his face and neck

loves when you get all mushy and melt into him, trusting him to take care of you

his hairs a mess, and his voice is scratchy with sleep, and his chest is warm against yours

his eyes stare at you like you built the earth from the ground up

your body feels like a live wire just from the intensity behind his gaze alone

he would just continue to gently manhandle you until you both cum in your underwear together, panting and whining soft little moans into each others mouths and grasping at each other like a lifeline

“good morning”

gets super energized and bubbly like 10 minutes after

probably walks to breakfast shirtless, hair still a mess, and the biggest grin on his face, dragging you along while your kiss bitten lips are still red

everyone knows

zoro

let’s be real, zoro’s always a little sleepy

like 85% of the time he just wants to take a nap

and sometimes his desire to sleep does not line up well with your needs

you’d find him laying down with his arms crossed, clearly trying to get some shut eye after a training session

but you’ve been waiting all day to get him alone

and watching him train does not help with your desires

but now the stars are out, and everyone else has gone off to bed, and you just wan’t the uncomfortable ache to go away

so you curl up beside him, his arm instinctively wrapping around you because he has your body committed to memory

an eye pops open to look at you anyway

he doesn’t say anything, giving you the space to use as you please

he knows you want something the second he looks at you

the way you smile up at him all coy and fiddle your fingers against his chest

“hi”

…

you lay there in silence for a while after that, and he closes his eyes again

then you start kissing him

sweet little pecks across his chest, up his collarbone, his neck, his jaw, his cheek, making your way to his lips-

“did you want to ask me something?”

he’s very straight forward and to the point, and he doesn’t want you to beat around the bush if you have something you want to say

but then your hiding your face in his chest, core pressing ever so subtly against his thigh

and of course he notices, because he’s in tune with every little thing about you

“ohhh, i see. is that what this is about?”

he presses his thigh harder against your clothed cunt, almost like a test, reveling in the little whimper it pulls from your lips

he loves being right, especially when it comes to how well he knows you

he would compete in a trivia all about you if he could and he would probably win by a landslide

he’d reach his hand down, so close to where you need him, but not yet giving you what you want

he likes teasing you and getting you all whiny and eager

“want me to take care of this for you?”

“please-“

no matter how tired he is, he’ll always take care of you when you need him

especially when you ask so nicely

besides, the fact that you’re needy for him is enough to make him a little wound up himself

if he’s really tired he’ll let you ride his thigh, helping your hips move back and forth at a lazy pace

“is that better? does that feel good, hm?”

“thats it, just keep going like that”

“just get yourself there, sweetheart”

“doing such a good job”

but sometimes he’ll even let you ride his dick, relaxing into the pleasure and watching the view as you chase your release

“slow down, sweetheart, it’s not a race”

“yeah, shit- nice and easy, just like that”

“i know, honey, you’re so close”

he’ll leave lazy kisses all across your collar bone and your shoulder, and soothing strokes of his thumb on your hips

eyes lidded and tired

when you’re hips start to stutter and it all feels like too much, he will not let up no matter how tired he is

because all he wants is to make you feel better

and he loves watching you slowly unravel

he’ll grind your hips himself when it all becomes too much, pulling you down harder and watching in awe as you come undone on top of him

definitely a good relaxer before bed

gets both of you warm and fuzzy and ready to fall asleep wrapped up in each other

sanji

you’re already in bed and half asleep when sanji comes in

he curls up into your back, moving your hair aside to leave delicate kisses up your should and neck, landing at the sweet spot behind tour jaw

the action makes you stir, whining a little and shuffling around, a little fruatrated at being woken up

“hello, my darling.”

he greets between kisses, working at your sweet spot until you let out another pretty whine

his hips twitch involuntarily into your ass, and you come to your senses a little bit when you feel how painfully hard he is

“sanji, it’s too late for this”

you go to turn and look at him but he hold you in place

“no need to move, dove. you don’t have to do anything at all”

“just relax, i’ll do all the work”

“just need to be inside you so badly, mon amour”

“please let me feel you”

his desperate words, whiny tone, and sweet kisses are all more than enough to make your panties damp

he’ll pull your panties to the side under your night dress, holding you close to his chest as he slowly eases himself inside you

his mouth presses tender kisses right under your ear, allowing you to hear all of his pretty noises loud and clear

he’s absolutely desperate, having watched you walk around in a pretty little dress all day

his hips move almost on their own, needily rutting into you from behind with strings of “thank you”s flowing from his lips

of course now you’re really needy too

“shit- harder. need it, please-“

and his hips are pressing into you harder before you can even finish your sentence

he can’t last very long, because you’re squeezing him so well, and your so warm and wet, and he’s practically trembling with pleasure from being on edge all day

but he wants to feel you cum first

so he brings he fingers down to gently swirl against your clit, coaxing you towards the edge

“i’m so close, my love”

“you feel so amazing”

“want to feel you cum around me. will you let me feel you, angel?”

“please cum for me, darling”

so you do, and he follows suit seconds after you, eyes rolling back into his skull as he buries his face in your neck

asks open!

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onetoomanyfandomfixations · 5 months

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Helluva Boss Characters Reacting to You Asking for a Hug

Tbh this series is just for my own enjoyment at this point lmao

I’m so normal about them, I swear.

BLITZØ

Honestly, it depends on what type of relationship you have with him

Familial relationship? Best BELIEVE he’s coddling the shit outta you rn

^ def a cheek pincher

“Hey sweetie? Do you need me ta fuck someone up for ya?”

But if y’all are platonic, or SATAN FORBID

R O M A N T I C ?

Ur not getting Shit

Well, until you start crying

“You’re a fuckin’ baby, you know that?”

Very casual hugs

Always sits his chin on you

Will complain the entire time

But you both know he loves you

LOONA

“Oh shit, you good?”

She’s blunt, not heartless

Honestly pretty touched that you asked for a hug instead of just going for one

Like her adoptive dad, very casual hugs

Usually just slings an arm over your shoulders

Won’t talk to you about it

Y’all just sit in comforting silence

Don’t let anyone point out that she’s letting you touch her

Will get v flustered

Depending on how you both feel - may let you play with her hair to self regulate

MILLIE

“Sure thing, hun!”

Doesn’t matter who you are, or why you need a hug, she’ll take it

Physical affection is her top love language idc

Squeezes super super tight

Like, you can barely breathe

Gushes over how sweet you are

Will probs pepper your face in kisses too (doesn’t matter what ur relationship with her is)

((Millie is a strong believer in non-romantic kisses, she told me herself))

Will probs ask Moxxie to bring y’all a drink

MOXXIE

“Uhh, you sure you want a hug from me?”

Yes babe I’m sure

Doesn’t think he’s the best one to be comforting you - will palm you off to Millie if he can

But will be offended if anyone else says he can’t look after you

^^ Gets all huffy about it

Distraction is his new best friend

Will tell you a mixture of stories and fun facts to try and make you feel better

Will also make you a hot drink

If you want to, will talk out your feelings with you

STOLAS

Babes just blinks for a hot minute as your words register with him

Has the softest smile

“Of course, dearest. Come here.��

A hug isn’t enough for him, you’re in for a full blown cuddle sesh now

Likes the feeling of having you fully wrapped up in his arms

Forehead kisses. Forehead Kisses.

Will sometimes swaddle you in blankets like a literal baby

Hums softly for you

Tries to ask what’s wrong, will def push the subject

He just wants to fix it, okay?

Will just,,, smother you in affection until you’re okay

And then some

OCTAVIA

Judgemental eyebrow raise.

Judgy, judgy girl

Y’all gotta be CLOSE for her to hug

((But not really, she’s so touch starved its not funny, but we don’t talk about that-))

Long, comforting hugs

If u end up crying, will fix your makeup for you

Don’t mention it though

Like, literally don’t mention it or it won’t happen again

She probs just breathes a sigh of relief when y’all hugs

Holds on a little too tight, for a little too long

If you ask first, she’ll start coming to you for hugs now too

FIZZAROLLI

Baby. Baby, baby man.

Will wrap his arms around you several times over

Another really tight hugger

You had shit to do?

Sike, not anymore

Now you’re spending all day with Fizz

Your fault, you started it by asking for a hug

Is super worried about you, but tries to play it down

Will do stupid shit just to see you laugh

Will ALSO flirt with you until you can’t stand it anymore

ASMODEUS

Immediately concerned, does not try to hide it

Much like his bf, cancels all plans for today

Y’all are gonna be chilling in bed and cuddling now

Just kinda,,, scoops you up?

Definitely plays with your hair

Gives a SOLID head massage

So so gentle and sweet

Just lays you on his chest

Draws pictures on your back and makes you guess what he’s drawing

^^ he does this to help ground you

Tbh he’ll probably drag Fizz to bed too, so know they’re both looking after you

Mans isn’t gonna let anyone get left out

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bunny584 · 3 months

Text

OBSESSED: NANAMI (PT. II)

A/N: Because our collective husband won the contest. Gege texted me saying obviously Nanami would win. He also said if I don’t post a second part immediately Choso gets the boot next season. So I’m doing this for ALL of us 🤗 (I swear, I swear I’m 90% done with H&H for those of you that follow/have tolerated my lollygagging).

C/W: Fluff, Breeding, Mature, 18+

“It wasn’t over…it still isn’t over.”

Lines from The Notebook bubble from your lips onto Nanami’s bare chest. You’re curled onto him like a Cheshire cat. Your pretty, flushed mouth pets him. Followed closely by muffled sniffles. You bury your misty eyes and runny nose into his ratty, old college baseball shirt.

The one washed heather grey from the days turned months turned years of your careful handwashing.

I can get you another shirt, my love.

But I want this one, Ken. It reminds me of when we first fell in love.

Your answer is the same whenever he offers. Pouring all of your being into mending the natural little holes, the frays, and strain that comes with time.

His precious girl.

You nurse his shirt back to health, time and time again. In the same way you kiss him on rainy Sunday mornings. And pull him into the kitchen to dance with you under candlelight. And sneak extra food into his packed lunch on days he has to work overtime.

You are celestial.

With you he’s entrenched in the Heavens.

With you he builds the palatial wings of his own personal Icarus. Flying close, nearly too close, to the blinding warmth of your Sun.

“It’s so romantic, isn’t it?”

You shift up higher on him. Torsos melding together. Both your thighs cradled between his pajama clad legs. Nanami drags his fingers along your delicate spine.

God, he revels in you like this.

“It is, baby.”

Nanami catches the glassy mosaic in your eyes. Worthy of display in the Sistine Chapel.

You quickly bury your head into his neck, embarrassed about crying over a movie you’ve both seen over 10 times.

“I’m being so ridiculous, I’m sorry. It’s the stupid, dumb, stupid hormones.”

You press a cloud soft kiss into his chest and it reverberates down to his thundering heart.

Truthfully, Nanami has spent the entirety of the film watching you.

Tiny wrinkles in your button nose during some scenes, giggles and full belly laughs at others. You try to bite back your sobs. Slap away your tears before they splash against his abs — like they don’t correlate with the same points in the plot everytime.

He purposefully chose The Notebook after dinner because of your reactions. Just so he could fall in love with you all over again.

Just like Icarus.

Who fell from flying too close to the Sun.

Because loving you feels like a blissful free fall. With no ground in sight.

“I can’t wait to marry you.” The words flow out of Nanami. He can’t seem to contain it.

A pretty gasp escapes you. You pull away from the TV to shift closer to his face.

“Oh, Ken. I can’t wait to—“

“Kiss me.” His voice is throaty, laced with growing need.

Such an obedient girl.

Your lips are addicting. A fiend’s paradise.

He surges his hands in your hair while his tongue traces and tastes every corner of your mouth. You whine into him. He sucks on your tongue before taking your bottom lip into his teeth.

“Baby,” You breathe against his lips. Gentle pants melding with his.

Nanami kisses a hushed I love you into your mouth, before shifting your bodies on the plush couch.

His cock has been throbbing the entire movie. His shirt has inevitably shrunken over the years. Where it used to fall past your mid thighs, now it rides halfway over your hips.

Your plump, perky ass has been in plain view the whole night. Nothing protecting you from his invasion except for a thin, baby doll thong. Navy. Like the letters on his alma mater’s shirt.

Because your body is in heat, preparing you for a baby, your breasts are noticeably larger.

Filling out his shirt in the most mouth watering way. Your nipples, hard and sensitive, enticing him with every miniscule movement.

God, the way you wince and squeal when you brush your buds too harshly against him. Or whimper when the supple, puffy flesh of your tits push against his rigid body a little too hard.

His cock bucks off his thigh every single time.

The next 3 days Nanami will be reduced to the most rudimentary version of himself.

He’ll follow you around the house like a lap dog. Burying his nose and mouth and lips and tongue into every part of your body. He’ll grope you. Rub his crotch into you at every turn. Cum from just sucking on your nipples, if you let him.

You two have decided to abstain from sex when you ovulate. Until you are ready to create a love child.

He says you, because Nanami is fully ready, eager, to have mini-yous filling his home with life.

And really, he’s happy to let you dictate your family planning.

But the next 3 days will be torture. His needy, oversensitive heavy cock will drive every thought. He’ll jerk off more times than he can count.

Nanami is on his back now, with you perfectly perched on his manhood. Nothing but your thin panties cupping your precious little cunt. His length tents right up against you, begging for entry.

Both of your warm hands caress each hill and valley of his abs. Little crystals line your wide, puppy eyes. Tip of your nose so deeply flushed from all your tears. Cheeks dusted rose from your sex rubbing against his in this position.

No matter how many years you two have been intimate, you always blush, and squirm, and look away and hide your face like it’s the first time.

And it just makes him want to bury his cock in you. And take you. And worship you. And keep you swollen with his cum.

“How did I get so lucky?”

Again, Nanami means to think the statement but it rolls off his tongue on its own accord.

“D-do you mean that?” The way your bottom lip quivers makes his cock drool.

“My love. Your name was etched into my heart from the day I met you.”

Nanami pulls himself up so that your chest collides with his. You whimper at the sudden contact and the sound decimates his brain.

He crashes his lips into yours once more.

Your sweet mouth is blinding. You immediately evanesce into him. Little “ohs” and little “mmms” escape you in the pockets of breath Nanami allows you.

His cock jerks violently against your warm, dewy folds. Your arousal has soaked through your measly barrier. Now mixing with his, staining his sweats.

“Oh sweetheart,” Nanami husks against your lips. His fingers go to move your thong aside and are now drenched.

“So wet for me. Such a needy girl.”

He circles your puffy clit twice. And you buck against his veiny hand.

“Mmnnggh…oh god, K-Ken..” broken little moans kiss Nanami’s neck, while he pets your soaking wet folds.

“My precious girl,” he muses, fully aware of how pliant you become under his sweet words and light touch.

Nanami shifts his hips upward, just to avoid his legs falling asleep. But the sound that emanates from your lips is mind altering.

The friction from his fingers on your sensitive bud and his barely clothed, steel pipe length bullying into your opening drives you to see stars.

You bury your head back into the crook of his neck. So embarrassed about the way your hips start rutting against his cock. Slowly. On low autopilot.

Nanami grips your fleshy ass with his free hand. Pushing you deeper onto his rod every time you hump him.

“Oh yeah, baby?”

He gently teases into your ear. It’s such a fucking turn on. You rutting against him so desperately. Blushing up to your ears. Trying and failing miserably at fighting your body when it’s in heat like this.

Your nails dig little crescents into Nanami’s back. Small little puffs of air feather his skin.

“That’s it, pretty girl.” Nanami huffs.

“Use my cock. Make yourself feel good.”

You mewl at his words. Frustrated that the friction you want, need, is escaping you.

“I-I’m so…” words broken by your sloppy, desperate humping. Nanami grips your ass tighter. He suspends his hips upward to help you.

But his adjustments just make you whine louder. Pulling your face out of his neck to glare at him. Little frustrated crystals fall from your eyes. Your pupils are completely blown. Eyelids heavy. Nostrils flaring.

Fucking hell.

He could cum from just looking at you right now.

You need his cock. It feels criminal not to sink into your begging, decadent, pretty little cunt right now. When your body has worked so hard to prepare you to be stuffed and bred.

“I’m so horny,” another salty tear rolls down your pretty face.

And Nanami has to look up at the ceiling.

Because you say things like that.

While dripping around his dick. With your puffy tits and lips. Wearing his shirt that reminds you both of when you first fell in love.

How can you expect him to maintain any decorum?

“I-I-I love you with all my heart, Kento.”

And, he’s off.

You snap his last remaining string of self control in half.

Nanami takes another bruising kiss from your lips. His hands start dragging his shirt over your head. And you immediately moan into him.

“Be gentle with it!” You scold through delirious groans.

He can’t help but smile against your lips. His sweet, tender hearted future wife. So protective. Even if it’s just a cotton t-shirt.

“Forgive me baby, I’ll be more gentle.”

Willing his hands to move a beat slower. He pulls the prized possession over your head and sets it on the couch ledge behind you.

His eyes instantly drop to your sensitive nipples. And you squirm away from his searing gaze.

“My beautiful wife.” Nanami murmurs.

He places feather light kisses on your sensitive mounds.

Your tiny fingers wire through his hair and gently tug. And Nanami’s cock twitches in return. Leaking more of his arousal onto the mess you both have created.

“Can I make love to you baby? All I need is my tongue.”

Grit in his tone almost sharp enough to nick your skin.

You roll your bottom lip under your teeth. Wanton and utterly fucked out, you drop your hand to his crotch for the first time. Evoking a loud hiss from your soon-to-be husband.

“I want to feel you.” Hot desire woven throughout your angelic features.

Your voice calls to his manhood. The last remaining blood in his brain diverts directly to his groin.

“I…” Nanami pulls in a deep, shaky breath.

“I won’t be able to pull out, pretty girl.”

You take a kiss this time, swirling your sweet tongue around his. Nanami melts into your mouth like chocolate. Palming both of your hips with his large hands.

Pull out? He won’t be able to last more than 5 seconds inside you at this rate.

“You’re my husband,” your dulcet voice absolutely fucking his brain.

“And I want to feel you.”

Nanami has to bite back a pathetic whine. There’s barely 3 seconds left before he’s thrusting into you like the caged animal he is.

“Sweetheart, I could…” No, he knows he will.

“I will get you pregnant tonight.”

He offers you the last warning he’ll be able to mumble before he starts.

You cup his face. Place a chaste kiss on his swollen lips and grind onto his helplessly rock hard cock.

“Then let’s make a baby.”

848 notes · View notes

ghostarii · 9 months

Text

GLASS TABLE GIRL ! ～ BLADE . ❛ i just wanna be one of your girls tonight.

˖ ⁺ ⫾  SHOW NOTES fem!reader ❱ guitarist!blade ❱ groping ❱ reader is a groupie ❱ PWP!!! ❱ (reader is intoxicated so technically) dubcon ❱ spanking ❱ degradation ❱ clit n nipple slapping ❱ ig ooc!blade but who cares ❱ choking/asphyxiation ❱ size kink ❱ dacryphilia ❱ outdoor/public sex ❱ exhibitionism ❱ spit ❱ face-fucking ❱ dirty talk ❱ reader has 0 self respect ❱ name calling ❱ overstimulation ❱ creampie & unprotected sex (stay safe) ❱ clit pinching ❱ hair pulling ❱ multiple orgasms ❱ cumplay(?) ❱ no aftercare ❱ minors & dc antis do not interact.

˖ ⁺ ⫾  CREDITS i have not written a fic in so effing long nd i was high writing this so excuse my rustiness :c but i have risen from my grave so let’s rejoice nonetheless ! !blade is on my mind 24/7 n i just want to be used n abused by him omfg turn me OWT! i listened to one of the girls by the weeknd literally the entire time i wrote this sooo feel free to listen while reading ^_^ i was js writing as i went so ts is very pwp sorryyy . . i’m gonna try to be more active on here i js need time to write so in the meantime pls show that my works would be appreciated here =( likes & reblogs are so GREATLY APPRECIATED ! ! ! if u don’t like, pls scroll cs comm guidelines r so mean to creators T_T

˖ ⁺ ⫾  RUN TIME 7.5k+ words . (of pure filth)

IF SOMEBODY ASKED you who your favorite artist was, you would say Ren—known by his moniker: BLADE. There was nothing you didn't like about this man; everything about him fundamentally and ultimately was the object of a girlish obsession. You knew all of his songs front to back, followed his social media on every single platform, and never missed a single piece of media uploaded about him. Your life was built around his style: dark and mysterious and enigmatic. He was your number one, unmatched and unchanged.

He was a hard man to come by. He frequently held small shows, with no more than twenty-thousand people on the high end. It was impossible to go, and every time you tried, your chance miserably passed you up. But this time, June twenty-third, twenty-twenty-three, you were right there, in the middle of the pit, only mere feet away from Blade. It was your first time seeing him in person by the grace of your best friend who surprisingly snagged tickets, and you’d never been more grateful in your life.

Blade was ethereal. The concert videos you’d seen over the years did not compare to the image in front of your face. It was dark, the main lights being spotlights shone on his pearly, perspiring, black, skin-tight silk-clothed skin, and dim red LED lights on the set behind him. His fingers ran effortlessly across his guitar, an inexplicably attractive riff and tone singing from the instrument. You felt like you were in Heaven, your eyes never leaving the show before your eyes. It was hot and uncomfortable in the pit but it was worth it. So worth it because he looked at you: taking you in with an unfaltering stare. His lip slipped between his teeth, and he shook his head, throwing stray locks to the back, and God, you felt as though you needed to be bolted to the ground with the way you wanted to jump on the stage. He walks up to the microphone, the most gut-wrenchingly hot vocals sliding off of his tongue. His eyes were closed, smudged eyeliner emphasizing his fluttering, long lashes, and his lips were spit-slicked, parting and pursing with each sultry lyric leaving. They were plump and rosy as if they were asking to be kissed—it was a sight to behold.

You sang your heart out, dragging your hand from waving in the air down a curvy path on your body, going from your shoulder to your chest to below where Blade’s sight would reach. You turned to your friend and recited the lyrics with a big smile and following giggle, all to turn your attention back to the stage and lock eyes with him. Your thighs clamped together just at the narrowed and burning gaze he delivered. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted a man more than you do right now.

Your friend found a way closer to the stage and you wedged your way between the crowd, finding yourself so close that the speakers were banging on your eardrums. You could feel the music in your bones, and all you could think of to describe it was hot and heavy. Maybe it was all of the pregaming you and your friend did before the concert, or the condensed heat and gyrating bodies, but you were so hot. You wipe your sweaty skin as you sway to the beginning of the next song, taking out your phone to begin recording.

Blade leans into the mic, muttering lowly, “I want you all to sing.” He pulls the microphone out of the stand, letting his guitar hang off of his shoulder from the strap. And that’s when he makes his way to where you stand, muttering small “yeah”’s and “good job”’s into the mic as the crowd collectively sings. He kneels right before you, “Sing.” he says into the mic.

You go wide-eyed—cute, he thinks—but you start singing. You grab an open portion of the microphone, leaning in as close as possible and reciting the lyrics of the song just as you were told. All eyes and cameras were on you, and that included Blade, who held an intense gaze on you the entire verse. When you finish the crowd erupts in cheers and screams, and he pulls away, finishing the song. You turned to your friend and screamed about your main character moment, dancing and singing even happier into her recording phone. This was the best night of your life.

For the rest of the concert, you had the time of your life. Blade ends the show with a final guitar solo, the entire audience silent as he wrecks the strings and pours his heart into his vocals. He briefly spoke to his fans, thanking everyone for coming out and heading backstage as everyone began to clear out. And all he could think about was that girl who his eyes couldn't help but wander toward, and to whom his thoughts dedicated his innuendos. He remembers the sign you held at the beginning of the show: “BLADE ♡WNS M(Y)E (HEART) ♡”. Your eyes honed filth that your natural disposition didn’t and he longed for it. He held bated breath as he informed his security about you, requesting you be located and brought to him and they replied with “We’ll try our best, sir.”

It was an after-concert tradition for Blade to hit up a local club, especially in situations like this where it was his last stop. He hoped he’d find you there, but he knew you would, especially if you were as big of a fan as you looked.

“Yukong, just thirty minutes! Please!!” you pleaded, trying to pull your friend into your opinion. She shook her head no, “I can’t! I have to go home! I’m so tired and you know…” you stop your friend there, not wanting to hear about her boyfriend.

“Fine. I’m still going though, text me when you get home.” you didn’t want Yukong to go home. But arguing was pointless, and only time was being put to the test, not her stubbornness. You knew from your years as a Blade fan that he always went to the club after a concert to meet fans, and some rumors even suggested ulterior motives, so you wanted to go. Yukong frowned at your flat expression but still hugged you, waving at you as she got in her car to go home. You’d be flying solo, but you had faith in yourself.

So you make your way over to the nearest club via taxi, praying that this is the one that Blade would visit. You weren’t all too familiar with the place, its name, Starskiff Haven, only being one you’ve heard in passing. Regardless, your thoughts were assured by the abundance of fighting and pushing bodies to get in the door—and when your phone lit up, a Twitter notification from a Blade Updates page noting his location, Starskiff Haven, you smiled widely, making your way to the line.

It was way too long and you weren’t interested in waiting all night—you had to meet Blade. A time like this is when Yukong comes into hand with her very stern persuasion, something that’s near impossible to deny. But she left, and you’d have to figure out a way in. And a thought immediately came to mind.

You walked to the front of the line, breathing in deeply and psyching yourself up for how incredibly you were about to embarrass yourself. When you exhale, you book it, beelining straight into the club, right past security. You immediately shift your demeanor, blending into the crowd seamlessly as security guards rush in, looking around for you. Hiding behind the most cluelessly drunk girl, you make your way to the bar, immediately ordering a sidecar. It packed a punch and the combination of how many shots you had earlier, it’d be just enough to get you through whatever you were about to do.

You turn around in the swivel stool, taking in the atmosphere and coasting the area for any sighting of Blade. The club was darker than the concert but heavily illuminated with hazy, colorful LEDS and much, much louder, filled to the brim with chatter and deafening bass-boosted music. Your drink was brought to you moments later, and with a big sip, you raked your eyes over the club once again. You could see bodies grinding on the main floor, the DJ bopping his head as his hands moved diligently across his DJ controller, couples making out and slipping into cornered areas, and friend groups recording and taking pictures. It was a lively environment, sure, and from the strength that beat on your tongue, established by incredibly skilled bartenders—but you weren’t looking for a new clubbing spot, you were looking for Blade.

And Blade was looking for you. Swimming through the unforgivingly hot crowd for you. He wasn’t itching to have you, he was itching to take you. Every time he closed his eyes he was brought back to his time on stage and how you danced in the audience. How your lips pushed out his lyrics and how your hands couldn’t stop waving in the air and running on your skin. How you swiped off sweat from your forehead and fanned yourself with your sign. And how you couldn’t keep your star-filled eyes off of him. Every light reflection off of your eyes showed desperation and neediness. You were begging to be picked without ever uttering a word, and he was not one to ignore indulgence. You needed him and he wanted you—so where are you?

Perched on that blue-velvet cushioned swivel stool. Sipping whatever remaining contents of your sidecar. And when he saw you, you saw him. You locked eyes and each plastered ill-intended smirks across your faces. And while you had his attention, you brought the glass to your lips, smacking them open and running your tongue along the sugar rim, collecting the sweetness on your tongue. You sucked on your tongue, rolling your eyes and he swears the “Ahh” leaving your lips is audible from his distance. He stayed still even as you slapped down your money on the counter, hopping down and disappearing into the crowd.

You make your way to him quickly, holding onto your rapidly rising chest and laughing at yourself. You were on a roll of unbelievable behavior, but it seemed to be a clean stroke because you were yet to meet a roadblock. And in a very blurry couple of minutes, the goal you’d been working toward was in the palm of your hand—literally.

You danced your way to Blade when you were finally close to him, sliding up against his body sweetly. He was tall and so sturdy against you, but he was smooth like butter as he synced to your movements and danced behind you. His hands were on your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as he pushed up against you. Your exchange was wordless but it spoke volumes. It felt like a dream, entirely too good to be true but you indulged anyway, grinding against him. A gasp escapes your mouth as his left hand unabashedly grapes your tit, squeezing roughly and experimentally. His other hand trails dangerously on the band of your shorts and you let your head fall back on his shoulder, “I'm your biggest fan…”

He laughs at your declaration, leaning to press his lips feather-lightly at the shell of your ear, “Are you now?” you nod immediately, pressing into him. “‘Blade owns me’.” he mocks your sign, and laughs when he feels you slightly tense under his touch.

“I picked you,” and again, he leans down to your ear, “Are you happy, slut?” The word is so mean but it sounds so good from him. You nearly moan, nodding eagerly, as if complying with his word came with a medal. You were a slut, so willing to give it up as soon as he laid eyes on you. And you weren’t afraid to go low to get his attention, doing just about anything to be his for the night.

Fangirls like you are nothing new to Blade and as a man who looks like he does, it comes with the territory. He can read you like a damn book, cover to cover with ease because despite how enigmatic and indifferent to the norm you may try to appear, you wear your whole being on your sleeve. You do everything in your power to be somebody you're not. Your life revolves around who you think you should be and not who you are. A lot of girls are born with “it”: an innate ability to be the one wanted and desired, but you? Your “it” is manufactured, the blueprint drawn out by girls who are it. You're stuck in a limbo created by your age: too old to not be settling down, but too young to not live your life, and you try to make a box for yourself, being the exception to a path laid out for you. You're lost in the life you lead, and with the way you're dancing so shamelessly and needily on him, Blade knows you. You’re the type of girl who sees getting used as a flex, and despite signing an NDA or promising to never say anything, you’ll tell this person and that person that you got to sleep with the Blade; that the Blade picked you. Women like you are a cancer in the industry. Pests that are incessant and damn near impossible to get rid of. He knows you won't be any different than those before you, but there’s a desire to take you that he cannot ignore.

It’s his natural instinct as a man—or he’s just a shitty person. Perhaps a combination of both, because all he can think about is putting you to use. You’re making it so easy, moaning into the air under the thick remixed song the DJ is spinning, grinding against him, and holding his hand on your tit—you want him, and you’re giving yourself to him on a silver platter. You have a clear lack of respect for yourself, but luckily for you, that’s Blade’s type in women.

The atmosphere seems to be getting heavier, and it feels like time is getting slow and choppy. Now your arms are around Blade’s neck and his large hands are holding onto your ass, and you’re so close, you can feel your chests brushing with each breath you take. The world around you is nothing but background. It doesn’t exist to you, it doesn't matter to you. Not when you have Blade, the literal man of your dreams, right in your palm, and all he's looking at is you.

You feel so special. So wanted and so desired. You feel all eyes on you like you're the main attraction and everybody can’t help but watch and weep, wishing to be you. Your ego is skyrocketed and every embarrassing thing you’ve done tonight doesn't matter to you anymore because it paid off. Your eyes locked and the space between you closed. Your heart synced with the booming beat of the current song playing. You lean in, pressing your hands at the back of his neck and pulling him in. And you kiss him. You kiss Blade.

Blade kisses you back. He tightens the grip on your ass and you moan into his mouth, letting him infiltrate your mouth. He sucks on your tongue, smiling against you when he feels you push up on your tippy toes and hears you whimper into his mouth. He kisses you back. He pulls your bottom lip between his teeth, pecking your lips once more before moving to your cheek, then to your jaw, then to your neck. His hands are groping at you, roughly grabbing your ass, then your waist, then your breasts. “Are you wet?”

He says it so only you can hear it. You nod. “How wet?” He moves back up to your jaw, placing another kiss. You flutter your lashes, meeting his gaze, “So wet. All for you.”

At your response, he groans, pulling off of you. He chuckles when you pout at him. You’re just what he needs for this night. He grabs your chin, holding your face and leaning down, your lips brushing against his own. “I'm going to go smoke.” and he tells you this for a reason.

You watch with the biggest smile on your face as he sifts through the crowd, heading out of a side door. It was now or never.

Quickly, you rush to the bathroom to freshen up. You fix your hair, digging into your pocket and fishing out your lipgloss, reapplying, and you fan yourself, cooling down to not look a flustered mess. And just as quick as you ran in, you ran out toward the side door, immediately looking both ways for Blade. You smell smoke distantly and turn right, and a few paces down he stood, leaning against the brick wall of the neighboring restaurant. He's next to stacks of old wood and crates and you smile, thinking about whatever was about to go down between you.

You step in front of him and he smiles, taking you in once again. He blows his smoke in your face, tapping the ash off the cigarette before smashing the butt into the wall behind him. “Hi,” you say. He says nothing back, just slides his hand to the back of your neck and pulls you in. The kiss you share this time is messy and he now asserts control, nipping your bottom lip when he feels you go weak and pulls back.

He rakes his eyes up and down your body as you stand for him. This is the first time all night he’s seen you properly, in moderately okay lighting. Your jean mini-skirt is tight to you, accentuating the curve and fullness of your ass, and teases what’s beneath with your plump thighs poking out and how it rides up slightly. Your skin-tight baby tank is seemingly one with your figure, bringing out the best in you and making him smile with the “I ♡ BLADE” print across your chest. Your thigh-high boots did nothing when you were near him—he was looming and caging. He was intimidating and arousing, and with the lustful gaze you shared, the climax of your day was steadily approaching.

“Take it off.” He looks down at your chest and you get the memo; immediately grabbing the hem of your tank top and pulling it over your head. “Slow. Take your time…” And you listen, letting your body swivel as you remove the shirt. You unhook the clasp of your bra, and before your boobs could spill out of the confines, he grabs you and wedged you between him and the wall he previously leaned on.

The front of your body is slapped on the cold brick, but you’re swallowed in warmth as he presses against you, grinding his hard-on against your ass. One hand grabs your wrists, and the other turns you around. You look at him innocently, shivering at the breeze that blows down the alley. You can smell him: woody, smokey, and expensive. Yet here he was, pressing you up against a brick wall in a random alley. “You’re such an easy slut, y’know.”

“Bet you been thinking about this; daydreaming about your favorite artist pinning you and trashing you like the fucking whore you are.” he presses against your front, nipping at your jaw. “Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

You whimper, “Fuck me. Take me. Make me yours.”

“Tell me.” He growls - your answer not sufficing. “Want you to break me,”

“Always fantasized…wanting you to shove your dick down my throat and use it mindlessly and mercilessly.” He begins to kiss down your throat again, licking the tender skin. He smirks when you stop talking, your breath hitching and your head craning backward to open the expanse of your neck. He starts biting on your newfound sweet spot when you begin again, “Spit in my mouth and force me to swallow it with your cum,”

He gets to your chest, immediately taking a nipple between his teeth. He listens to you wince and whine as he does, pushing your chest into his face. “And make me beg you to fuck me. Teasing me…fuck—pinching me, pulling my hair until I'm teary-eyed and begging…”

“...And then you fuck me like you hate me; choking me, slapping me, degrading me all while I thank you stupidly.”

“You’re just fucking disgusting,” he mumbles around your nipple. He lets your hands go, palming your free tit immediately. His eyes are narrow as you whine when he twinges the bud roughly. “Put so much thought into this…you’re a weirdo slut.”

You shake your head, breathing out heavily to refute his claim, “Nuh-uh—your biggest fan.” you correct.

He laughs at you. You’re much more fun than he thought, and a lot less shameless, too. You're throwing all of your big cards out; this is your go-big or go-home moment, and while you have him here, you’ll bare yourself wholly because if not now, then not ever. Blade has to commend your patience though. You're letting him toy around, graze around your unknown territory and feel you out. You’re needy but obedient. Tired of waiting but understanding. Absolutely fucking shameful and proud, but eager to be good—so maybe he was wrong about you. You do have an “it”: an innate ability to be the perfect fucktoy.

When he lets you go, he immediately instructs you to get on your knees. And you listen immediately. The cold gravel digs into your bare knees and it's incredibly uncomfortable, yet you don’t utter a word. Your nipples are hard and pebbled and are probably so sensitive, yet you say nothing. You only sit before him, fingers dancing on the exposed thigh as you look up at him, waiting to be put to use.

So he slaps you. As you told him to—he slaps you, and his hand is heavy coming against your skin. It sounds off for what felt like possibly hundreds of miles, and your face doesn’t sting, but it hurts. The skin is heating up from the impact and your head turns to the side, hair falling against your face, yet you don’t utter a word. He grabs the back of your head, forcing you to look at him and dangerously smiling when your teary eyes look up at him wide and thankfully. “Pull my cock out,” he instructs, letting you go and standing up straight.

You get to work on his belt, undoing it swiftly, and then you unbutton his pants. You tease yourself: slowly pulling the zipper down, and when pulling his pants down to his ankles, you palm him softly, gently patting his throbbing cock and staring at the growing wet spot in his underwear. You kiss the wet spot, and then you kiss it again, and again until you suck lightly on it while making eye contact with him. You moan at the very faint taste, fluttering your eyes shut, and finally sliding your hand under the band of his underwear, holding his dick.

Blade hisses at your touch, bucking slightly into your hold at the initial contact. Usually, he’d curse you out at this point for going so slow, but he’s letting it slide this time; allowing you to take control and show him how worth it and nasty you really are.

He’s big. He’s thick—your hand can just barely wrap around the entire shaft, and as you lift him to unsheath him from his boxers, you feel how heavy he is. And hard. So fucking hard.

You gawk at his cock like a kid in a candy store, staring at his leaking slit intensely—almost as if you're waiting. “Go ahead; show me how big of a fan you are.”

You kiss his tip, the bead of precum smearing on your lips. Smacking your lips apart suggestively, you wrap your right hand around the base, applying tightness and pressure as you find the right grip, and when you do, you finally lick a clean stripe across the head. Your tongue sweeps up the new milky droplet spilling out, and you contently hum at the taste, making him groan in response. You lick from the angry tip all the way to his trimmed base, then back up again until you’ve teased every side of him and located his sensitive vein.

If anybody would have told you that all you dreamed about would be coming to fruition—all by mere luck and chance—you wouldn’t believe it. And you still don't; even as you spit a thick bead of your saliva on his cock and then massage it in with your tongue, swirling all around the sensitive head. But it’s real because he moans out for you as you finally take him in, the throb getting heavier as he sits on your tongue and your lips hug him tight.

You begin your ministrations: toying with his balls lightly as you bob up and down, going as far as you could. You tried your best to take him all in. You stretched your mouth wide around him until it felt like your mouth was going to rip at the corners and until it felt like all you could do was sputter and leak drool around him. Tears brimmed in your eyes and each time you blinked them back, keeping a pretty smile on your face every time you came up for air. Your lipgloss was mixed in with spit, and clear tear streaks had already begun to run their course with your base makeup, but you didn't stop. You were moaning incessantly, suffocating his dick in your intense vibrations that had him moaning and grunting.

When you come up from your nth deepthroat attempt, it's not for air, but to breathlessly huff out “Fuck my face…please,” And since you asked so nicely…

“Blink twice if it gets to be too much.” You open your mouth as wide as you could, sticking your tongue out. He pulls your hair back for you, yanking your head back and spitting on your tongue. His eyes tell you not to move, so you don’t, keeping eye contact with him as he wraps his other hand around your own, guiding your smaller hands up and down his shaft. He shudders, “F-fuck…’m so fuckin’ hard…”

And then he slides onto your tongue, not wasting any time before bottoming out in your mouth. Your eyes widen in surprise, and your unprepared gags speak volumes to your shock. But that doesn't deter you from wrapping your lips around him. And from there, he pulls out, pulling your head back and then pushing you back down as he thrusts his hips forward. He curses under his breath before picking up his pace, thrusting so hard that his grip tightens on your hair to hold you properly in place, fucking roughly into your face. You can only choke and sputter, having already taken your hands from around his dick and digging crescent nail shapes into his thighs. The sounds eliciting from the two of you are so nasty and filthy. His balls slap at your chin, your voice rings out from around his girth, and his moans echo around the world. You can’t take it but you’re doing a great job of trying. He slaps your face again, pulling out and hitting his tip on your tongue. “Keep your fucking eyes on me,”

“If you can do that, I'll cum all down your throat and all over your pretty fucking face, okay?” You nod eagerly, and as an incredibly degrading action of praise and acceptance, he slaps his spit-slicked dick against your cheek a few times. “Good girl.” Butterflies swarm in your stomach at his praise.

When Blade slides in, he smacks against your face. He goes to the very hilt, pushing his way to the depths of your throat roughly. Your nose is pressed up against his pelvis, and your cheeks are catching stray tears. But this is consistent as he begins thrusting, using you per your request. He grunts out each time his tip hits the back of your throat, thrusting so roughly and meanly into you. Again, you feel like all you can do is choke and gag, spilling slobber and precum mix back down his length. It’s fucking filthy and the loud squelching and impact noises hit your ears nastily, yet you can’t help but squirm and attempt to grind for friction to subdue the need throbbing in your clit.

Above you, the man is falling apart. His hips stutter every now and then and his voice is fucking endless. His long hair sticks to his sweaty forehead and sides of his neck, and it looks damn near intentionally placed from how beautiful he looks. The outdoor lights are like distant illuminators; glowing behind him softly—almost angelically. His eyebrows are knitted together and he struggles to keep his eyes every time he reaches the back of your throat and you start gagging. It’s beyond pleasurable. Blade isn't sure if it’s because of all the tension the two of you have built up, or if it's because he hasn't had any action in the last 3 weeks because of his neverending schedule, or if it’s because your mouth is fucking amazing, but he can't keep himself together. His chest starts heaving faster as he comes close to his high, his knees beginning to buckle, and his stomach caving.

You flick your tongue on the underside of his cock as much as you can and glue your eyes to his, seeing his release breaking him down inch by inch. “Fuck! I'm gonna fucking cum!” He announces, throwing his head back.

He stills in your mouth and you take the opportunity to suck harshly on his tip, swirling your tongue around it like it’s the sweetest lolly you’ve ever tasted. He pulls out of your mouth, and you vigorously stroke his cock, so focused and determined to milk him dry. He leans forward, slapping his palm against the wall behind you for stability as he cums. He moans so prettily as he paints your face, the warm ropes making you hum contently. You give him no break, sucking his tip one last time to make sure you get the most out of what he’s given you.

Blade catches his breath, standing up straight soon after and condescendingly cooing at the mess made on your face. He picks up a glob as he sweeps his thumb over your cheek, sliding the digit in your mouth. He presses on your tongue, finding pleasure in how you swallow your sounds under a layer of gagging, but how you never tear your eyes off of him. He does this until you’ve cleaned off your face—but he's not done with you.

You're finally allowed off of your aching knees. You're sure the gravel will leave an indent from how long you were down there. He pinches your pebbled nipples, smirking as you yelp. “What was it that was next? Making you beg..making you earn my cock in you?” you nod rapidly, backing into the wall for stability as he toys with your very sensitive tits. “Show me how you beg then.”

You put your hands on his shoulders to help you stand up, feeling so weak all of a sudden. Your voice cracks as you try to speak, meek little whimpers flowing out as he works your body expertly—like he knows what gets you going. “Please…fuck–Please fuck me, I need you so bad…!”

A shrill yelp is chased out of your throat when his palm cracks against one of your boobs, “Is that all you got? Try again.”

So you do. “Need you to fuck me, Blade. I wanna be used by you, broken–please, I'll do anything!”

“Not good enough. Again.”

“Please fuck me like the slut I am! I need to be full of you, need to have you fuck me ragged and dumb so all I think of is you!” you pitch up your voice, breathing it all out in one breath.

Pitiful. Another smack. “Again.”

“I'm so needy for you, please! It hurts–I need you so much, it hurts! Please…”

And he's heard enough. His right hand slides up to your neck, forcing you against the wall. His grip is tight, fingers pressing into the sides and you have to fight for your eyes to not roll to the back of your head. “You must not want me as bad as you acted like you did…”

“I do! I do!” You interject, but your voice is weak and small—nothing in comparison to his deep and lust-saturated tone. “Then act like you do. Beg.”

He runs his other hand up your thigh, cupping your cunt. Your panties are soaked, and he can feel the heat radiating off of you. He pushes the fabric to the side, running two fingers through your folds and you swear you almost fell out then and there. You'd gone teased and untouched all night—you were beyond ready.

“Pussy is fucking soaked…” he mumbles, letting his index and middle finger twirl through your folds, getting closer and closer to your clit. “You want me here? To fuck your sloppy pussy until you're cumming your brains out?”

Your eyes start to roll and he can feel the pulse intensify in your cunt. That's exactly what you wanted. “Say it. Say ‘I want my sloppy pussy fucked until I'm cumming my brains out, Blade’. Say it,”

You part your lips, and he slightly loosens the grip on your throat, “Wan–want…I want my sloppy pussy…” You get shy with your words, and he delivers a slap to your clit. The stimulation has you buckling over. You feel like his hands on you are going to be the death of you. “Say it.”

With the courage finally built up, “I want my sloppy pussy fucked until I'm cumming my brains out, Blade! Please, I need it s’bad…feel like I'm gonna fucking die!” leaves your lips easily like spreading butter on toast. His lips that you never got enough of tasting quirk up into his signature smirk. He lets you go, pushing you against the wooden crates and flipping up your jean skirt.

“There you go; atta-fucking-girl.” he practically rips your panties off of you, slapping your pussy just for the hell of it. He cringes at the sound it makes and laughs cruelly at your whimpering. He presses up against you, his semi-hard dick pressed against your ass, and he wraps his arm around you and shows you the coat of your arousal that paints his fingers. “Spit.”

With your spit and abundance of slick collected on his fingers, Blade strokes his cock, going until he’s near painfully hard. The sounds he elicits make your pussy clench around nothing, needing to be satiated so desperately. “Are you ready? There’s no going back.”

This is somehow the sweetest moment for you. Your heart swells and you can only sheepishly nod, wiggling your hips eagerly. “Never been more sure about anything in my life. Ruin me.”

Ask once more, and you shall receive once more. His cock is swiped through your folds and collects a considerable amount of your arousal. He lines up at your entrance, watching you brace yourself with a smile ingrained into his face. He pushes in with a sharp inhale, biting his tongue at the feel of your tightness. Your pussy sucks him right in and—fuck. Warm and soft and tight, he could cum right now.

Your face crinkles up and you grip tightly onto the wooden crates in front of you. You’ve dreamt of this for so long—touched yourself at night to the thought and it's finally happening. He's inside of you, stretching you out, sinking in and in and in, inch by inch until he buries himself deep in your guts, until his tight and heavy balls are touching your folds. You're so sensitive you feel like you're ready to cream already, and you need it, need him, and need more. You grind your hips back on him, exhaling thickly as you rest your head against your forearm. “So fucking ready for me…”

His hand cracks down on your ass. It hurts so well and you wince, arching your back further. He sighs, kneading your skin softly. Then he pulls out, inching out until only the tip sits idly in you. You turn around to look at him, and doing that ignites his fire.

Your face is pathetic and fucked out already. Eyebrows knitted together and your eyes heavy, hardly staying open. Your lips are parted yet folded into a small frown, and perspiration rests at your hairline. You egg him on to slam into you, and he watches your frown drop into a wide ‘o’ shape, your eyes fluttering. So he does it again. And your lip now slips between your teeth. And again. And you drop your head back onto your arms.

And so Blade keeps up this pace, gradually going faster as the pit in his stomach urges him to do so. Your sounds are now uncontrollable—they fly out of you like a skipping record, incoherent babbles, and sinful moans. Each collision of your bodies elicits a visceral, wet slap that echoes off the walls of the alleyway. People around the world could probably hear what you're doing, and you're not sure if that bothers you…if the thought of a curious passerby walking down this alley naïvely would be an issue. If anything, it makes you get louder, your throat not getting to rest.

He hits you again, groaning when your pussy clenches around him. “You’re so fucking loud– you want somebody to find us?” Yes, that is what you want to say. But you moan out louder, shaking your head no. He hits you again. “Don’t lie to me,”

“You’re a fucking painslut,” he spits at you. He wraps his arm to reach your clit, immediately finding the bud and pinching it. Your knees go weak and he stabilizes you against him by pushing you further into the crates in front of you. You sniffle and whimper, presumably spilling tears down your filthy fucking face but doing nothing but asking for more. You've gotten so wet, dripping everywhere messily and Blade only cringes his face up with each wet collision. You're so nasty, so filthy, letting a stranger who you parasocial bonded yourself to defile you in public. He's feeding into your crazed delusions, but he’d honestly rather be doing nothing else. When he pinches your clit again your body shakes. Your knees buckle again and from the waist up you're basically limp. He feels you tighten around him and he sucks his teeth, parting your ass to peer at the milky ring forming around the base of his cock. “Did you just fucking cum?” Yes, you did. And you felt like Heaven doing it.

“You came ‘cause I pinched your clit…” he does it again and you jolt up, whining for him to stop. “So if I slap it…” he slaps it, eyeing you for your reaction. “Or rub on it like I love you…” his fingers run circles on your bud, feeling you get impossibly tighter around him. “So fucking easy.”

He resumes his thrusts like he never stopped—slamming into you unapologetically and now additionally, rubbing on your cute, abused clit. He's not going to last long at this rate. Your pussy gushes around him like a running river and the noises have gotten even nastier. Squelching and the occasional puffs of air escaping…you’re a mess.

“Love this fucking cunt,” he praises while pinching your clit. His free hand that rested on the small of your back is now holding onto your neck, forcing you to stand upright against him. Blade is lean but muscular. His arms flex and you feel his abs every time your bodies get close enough. His strong thighs touch yours and it's like you feel his entire body weight every time he pushes into you. “So good, ‘s so fucking good, Blade!”

The man laughs at your outburst. He angles his hips differently, trying so hard to find your sweet spot to get you creaming again. “Yeah?” he asks, tightening his grip on your throat. “Mhm-!” you concur.

“Where?” He’s sure he's found it, and he drives his hips up, groaning happily once he feels your gummy walls contract around him. “Here?”

Your head nods rapidly. “Yes, yes, yes–fuck! Right there, oh my fucking God!”

Neither of you are going to last. Blade’s balls are so tight and the way your pussy hugs him is even tighter. You suck him in like you never want him to leave, but your over-stimulated squeals and shaking thighs suggest otherwise. He’s found your sweet spot and is recklessly abusing it, going all or nothing. The way he toyed with your clit like a kitten pawing at a toy was too much—it started to hurt, to throb endlessly as your stomach knotted and your hole drooled. His grip on your neck was the icing on the cake. You felt like you could no longer breathe — like his thrusts were knocking the wind out of you and him choking you was keeping it out. Every little thing he did pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

He was even more merciless than before. Blade fucked into you harder, rougher, and faster than before, and you chalked that up to his orgasm catching up to him. You listen to his songs on repeat all the time but never have you heard him sing more beautifully than now as he digs your pussy out. You were really blessed with this night, and now it is coming to a very eventful end.

“‘M gonna fucking cum–!” You announce, and Blade nods his head in agreement. He slaps your cunt one last time, his fingers covered in your juices now tweaking at one of your nipples. “Me…me too, fuck.”

He leans into your ear, “Make me cum in this fucking pussy,” a throaty moan breaks his sentence, and you moan back, feeling it coming. “So close, so close…!”

It's this contraction that has Blade falling apart. He thrusts into you one last time, his eyes shooting wide open as he cums deep in you. He moans gutturally and shakily, feeling you clench tighter as you orgasm as well. His hips stutter in you and your hips ride back onto him as you both come down from your highs. The alley is now deafeningly silent and you flush in embarrassment from how loud you must have been. He lets your neck and tit go, using one hand to now spread your ass and pull out his cock. Your pussy is puffy and shiny, and when he’s out, he watches with a burning gaze as your mixture of cum starts to slightly spill out.

He groans, slapping your ass one last time. You two finally separate, and you turn around to look at him. You're sure he doesn't look as fucked up as you do, but even so disheveled and fucked out and sweaty as he is, you can’t help but feel your heart flutter. He pulls up his boxers and pants, fixing his shirt before he looks over at your mostly naked frame. He comes over to you, pulling down your skirt, and his doing this makes you feel less like a one-night stand, and more like one of his girls.

Being so close to you, he breathes you in. You smell like sex, but beneath that is a layer of whatever fruity perfume you sprayed on you, and it's delectable; so he kisses you. It's something he doesn't usually do, and he wouldn't have done it for you, but you entrance him. Perhaps it's because you're what he likes— he's met his match.

But you kiss each other passionately like you were trying to reignite the flame you just spent God knows how long fucking out. Your tongues are well acquainted with one another, swirling and bumping and riding past one another knowingly. He pulls away from you, looking in your eyes as he lets spit fall onto your tongue once again. You smile happily as you swallow it—God, you could do this forever. “Come back with me,”

You didn't expect him to say that. You blink your eyes a few times in disbelief. This night can't be any more unreal. He notices your confusion and smiles, “Is that a no–”

“–No! I'll come with you!” you don't know where he’s taking you, or what it means to go with him. You do know that you’ll have a lot to tell Yukong, NDA or not, and that you’ll never forget this day.

Smiling again, this time devilishly, Blade pulls away from you, pinching your cheek. “Good girl.”

#honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail x reader #honkai x reader #blade honkai #honkai smut #hsr x you #hsr x reader #hsr smut #hsr blade #blade smut #blade x reader #blade x you #blade x reader smut #minors & ageless blogs do not interact.#hsr blade smut #hsr ren

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fieldofdaisiies · 4 months

Text

Lucien…

Lucien curling his arm around your shoulders, his eyes closing, drawing in a deep inhale, humming, "This is where you belong. Right here. In my arms."

Lucien, leaning against the doorframe, eyebrows raised teasingly, drawling, "Needy?"

Lucien grinning, "If I offer you the moon on a string, will you give me a kiss too."

Lucien, guiding you by your hips while you are on top, panting, "Fuck, just like that, little fox. Making me feel so good."

Lucien, kissing your hair, saying, "You smell like a breath of fresh air."

Lucien, titing your chin up with his index and middle finger while you kneels on the ground in front in him, drawling, "That’s my good girl."

Lucien growling, "You’re mine and now let everyone hear it," while he pushes into the hilt.

Lucien, his thumb stroking over your chin, the tip of his length positioned at your entrance, saying in a sensual voice, "Open up my little fox, let me make you feel good."

Lucien whimpering and groaning when you give him head.

Lucien yelping when you flick his hear after he teased you.

Lucien laughing from the bottom of his heart, the sound rich and pure, when you say something funny.

Lucien crying when talks about his past or when you share something emotional about your past.

Lucien whispering, "You are my mate," begore kissing you gently but nevertheless deeply.

Lucien, his hand holding your above your head, thrusting into you, growling, "Don’t hold back, let them hear you. Let them hear how good I make you feel."

Lucien, holding the door open for you, politely offering, "After you, my lady."

Lucien pulling out a chair for you, smiling and saying, "My lady."

Lucien, sitting on the bed in a sprawl, letting his gaze roam over you, commanding, "Strip!"

Lucien raising a brow when he scents your arousal, purring, "Is it my cock or my tongue that you want?"

Lucien smiling, "This flower field reminds me of you - never-ending beauty."

Lucien holding you in his arms, squeezing you tightly, mumbling "I love you. I love you so damn much."

Lucien, hoisting your legs over his shoulder, nose teasing your clit, tongue driving deep into you, groaning, "You taste absolutely divine, my mate."

Lucien holding out his hand out for you to grab, "Sunshine."

Lucien, brows arched in an almost cocky way when turning to you, sleeves rolled up, standing in a lake, a fish in his hand, smirking, "Impressed?"

Lucien dragging his thumb over your lower lip, pushing inside, smirking, "Such a pretty little mouth."

Lucien breathing hard and fighting the tears when you trace your index finger over his scar, telling him how beautiful he is.

Lucien kneeling between your thighs, gaze heated and trained on your centre, purring, "You’re always so wet for me."

Lucien thrusting into you from behind, fingers threaded into your hair, tilting your head back, growling, "Grab the headboard, little minx."

Lucien kissing your knuckles, saying, "You’re re perfect the way you are - I love everything about you, every small detail about you. I love you."

Lucien, admiring you and whispering to himself, "Truly the luckiest male alive."

#I escalated a little with Lulu #I just love him okay?#a lot #lucien vanserra #lucien vanserra x reader #lucien x reader #lucien x you #lucien vandaddy #acotar #acosf

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luveline · 11 days

Note

i love the kbd universe so so much! could you please do one where sweet little bethie (☹️) has been getting a hard time from other kids at school/nursery for being ‘weird’/‘different’ and how steve and reader would handle it?? sorry if that’s too specific my lovely! hope you’re having a good day!! 🫶

thank you!! kbd au —steve employs your help when your daughter needs a pep talk. 1.5k

“Why’s my girl so sad?”

“I’m not sad.”

Steve raises his brows at Beth. She looks especially like you when she’s down. It’s sort of sad, thinking about it, how her lips turn like yours would, how she won’t meet his gaze or hold his hand when he tries to intertwine their fingers.

“Aw, honey, don’t tell me tall tales,” he says, no actual scolding in his tone. He sees the shimmer of tears aligned on her bottom lashes and can’t abide her fibs anymore, scooping her off of the couch and into his arms. “Bethieeeee,” he whines, “tell me what’s wrong! You know I hate not knowing everything about you.”

“Dad,” she says, letting her head loll in the curve of his neck, “nothing is wrong.”

Liar, he thinks. From the kitchen he can hear you and Dove and baby Wren singing. Avery potters around in the downstairs bathroom, humming. Steve knows Beth is sad, because Beth is quiet, but she still has as much energy as the rest of her sisters when she’s home. She isn’t introverted when she’s with him, or her mother, and especially not the best big sister in the world.

“Okay,” he says. He should poke and prod. Instead, he lifts her up as high as he can, which, not to brag, is quite high. “Hi up there. How’s the weather?”

She jabs him in the chest with her foot. “It’s windy.”

Steve laughs like an idiot and brings her down for some adoring kisses. “Super windy. Babe, you get funnier and funnier everyday.”

She wraps her arms behind his head. “Thank you.”

“Ooh, you’re welcome. Should we go and sing some songs with mommy?”

Beth shakes her head. “No.”

“No?”

“No.” She sounds like a baby.

Steve sits down with an arm behind her back. He’d quite like a bit of peace and quiet. He doesn’t mind if she needs some too. “Then let’s stay right here, bub, jus’ me and you.”

Dustin once said that Steve was about as much use as a paper cup in a hurricane when it came to comforting people, but that was nearly a decade ago, and it was before he met you. You rushed into Steve’s life (by accident on both sides) and showed him how it felt to be properly looked after for the first time ever. He can’t forget how that felt. Robin loves him but she couldn’t love him like that, couldn’t kiss a bruise and fix it whole, couldn’t ease a migraine with her fingers in his hair. You touch Steve’s arm and he can lift a ten tonner.

He’s more equipped than ever to comfort someone now. He had a good teacher.

“You have a long day today, huh?” he asks.

“Not much.”

He smiles. “Not much long?” he asks.

“Dad,” she grumbles. “You know what I mean.”

“I do… so you didn’t find it too long?”

“I guess.” Beth touches under his chin. “You have sharpies.”

“My stubble? Should I shave tonight?”

“Yes,” she says emphatically. “Don’t like scratchy kisses.”

“Oh, so you wanted more kisses?” he asks. “Would that help you feel better? How about we meet in the middle and get mom to kiss you? She’s not so sharp.”

She sighs, her nose shoved into his collar. “Dad, can you rub my back?”

Steve rubs her back immediately. She makes no other request, lips firmly shut and secret upset sealed away, feeling at his stubble with gentle fingers. She loves foreign sensations like this. It’s why she likes having her back rubbed, Steve theories; the pressure of his hand on her spine is dragging, and grounding.

He shifts against the grain of a cushion behind his back.

“I want to tell you,” Bethie says finally.

“I always want to listen,” he promises.

She doesn’t sound teary, more uncomfortable as she finally forces it out, “Nobody at school likes me.”

“Babe, that’s not true at all.”

“It is true. They all think I’m weird.”

“I bet they don’t, babe.”

“Dad, they all say it.”

Steve bites his cheek as his mouth snaps shut. “Well,” he says quietly, cupping the side of her face, encouraging her head back to meet her eyes. They’re big in her little face, pupils like pearls, “that’s not very nice.”

“It’s true.”

“Not true.”

“It is true,” she says angrily.

“It’s not true, Beth, you’re not weird, and if you are weird then I’m weird, and that’s not a bad thing after all. Is it?”

Internally, it breaks his heart. Beth has been different than the other kids for a long time and in lots of ways. She’s picky, peculiar. She eats things in her own fashion, and has interests outside of her peers. Steve didn’t know she was ‘abnormal’ until people started telling him —she’s his second baby. He didn’t think they were all the same, and so didn’t question her differences, and still doesn’t care to beyond wondering what he can do to make her happy. Who cares if Beth eats two bites of sandwich for every celery stick?

The other kids. Some parents.

“I don’t want to be weird,” she says, hanging her head.

You arrive like a well-timed miracle, shimmying past the half open door with a smile. “Hi, guys. I want you to come and do karaoke, what do you think? I’m making everybody mocktails! We’re having pineapple juice and–” You lean back, hand on your hip, a slip of your stomach peaking out of your tank top, total picture of a cool mom as you cross your naked arms over your stomach. “Oh, no. What’s wrong?” you ask teasingly.

Steve squeezes Beth to his neck. “Hey, none of your business!”

“No, tell me,” you say, crossing the room to sit beside them on the couch.

“You wanna tell her?” Steve asks.

Beth shakes her head. “Didn’t want to tell you, dad.”

“You did, lovely,” he says, all sympathy as you cuddle up to Steve’s side and wrap an arm around them both. “You said you wanted to tell me. It’s okay if you don’t want to tell us again, though. Mommy just wants to make you feel better, right?”

“Right,” you say. When you smile at her, it’s with all the love in the world.

She’s quicker to cry in her mother’s lap. She wiggles closer to your shoulder, her voice fraught as she confesses, “Everybody at school says I’m weird,” and erupts into breathless sobbing, like she’s terrified of the idea.

Your eyes wrinkle as you close them tight, frowning into the top of her head. “Oh, my poor girl. My baby. Please don’t cry, because that’s not true. You’re not weird.”

“Everybody says I am!”

“I’m sorry,” you say, pushing Steve away accidentally as you wrap her into a proper hug. “Who says that?”

“Mom, it’s everyone. Even my friends.”

Kids can be so mean, when they aren’t trying and when they are. You mumble sweet placatives, fingers running up and down the length of Beth’s shuddering back. She cries like she’s hurting. Steve’s reminded of the time she fell down the stairs and hit her face on the baby gate, she was shocked but more urgently in pain, and she couldn’t work out why she’d fallen.

“That’s not nice, Beth,” you’re saying, “I’m so sorry they’re saying mean things about you, but you’re not weird, I don’t know why they’d say something like that. They’re just not as nice as my girl.”

“I’m different,“ she says.

“That’s not a bad thing, Beth. You’re perfect. I wouldn’t want you any other way, and neither would your dad.”

Steve jumps in. “Right! We like you like this, babe. I don’t want you to change, I don’t care what all the meanies at school say, me and mom think you’re awesome. Avery and Dove and Wren all think you’re the best sister and best friend ever. Avery’s your best friend. Has she ever called you weird?”

The baby talk is sinking in. If you used your bubbly voices on Avery it might not work anymore, but Beth is just about young enough for it to take. “No… You really think I’m not weird?” Beth asks sadly.

No kid wants to think they’re weird, even if they are, and even if that’s okay.

You sink down into your seat, taking Beth with you. Steve has to fight to cuddle you both. “I know you’re not,” you say.

For a good five minutes, you just hug her. Steve ends up laying his cheek against your temple, hand on Beth’s back so she knows he’s there. When the baby starts babbling loudly for you to come back, Steve takes the short straw and leaves you both for cuddling.

“What’s up, dad?” Avery asks, standing on a chair by the baby’s high chair, feeding her youngest sister cut up strawberries on a spoon. Dove eats her own strawberries with sliced bananas and peanut butter, the evidence of the latter staining her blue t-shirt.

Steve pats the top of Avery’s head. “Nothing much, baby. I’ve come to make you your mocktail.”

“Oh, yes! With sugar? Bethie loves the sugar.”

She doesn’t know how glad he is that she’s Beth’s big sister. “With the sugar.”

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daddyricsdoll · 4 months

Text

Now ✭ Lando Norris

Summary: The ache between your legs was so strong seeing Lando hold control in the DJ booth at the club. But holding control of Lando also made your pussy drenched. Luckily Lando had a need for you too, and you both planned on conquering those needs.

Warnings: Oral (male and female receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, degrading name (slut), dom and sub Lando as well as dom and sub reader. Wrists get tied together, if that counts as bondage? And some teasing.

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: What is a plot? I only know about porn, so yes this is porn without a plot. And this did take a little longer then expected but I hope it's still good!

Landos hand grips mine as he pulls me through the drunken crowd. The heat from the room and bodies surrounding me still doesn’t manage to disguise the fire between my legs and that throbbing need for it to be distinguished.

I allow him to drag me into the VIP bathroom, secluded from everyone else. I get a glance of the clean and relatively big room before I’m taken aback by Lando sucking and biting against the skin of my neck and shoulder. Soon bringing his head back up to collide our eager lips together.

My leg lifts and gets pulled flush against his body, allowing me to rub against his bulge. A deep groan leaves his mouth and it spreads into mine. His large hand finds comfort around my neck, squeezing it just enough for me to breathe but keep me pinned to the wall. His other hand starts pulling down the thin straps of my frail dress, releasing my breasts.

My nipples peaked at my arousal and the cool of the room before Lando occupied them with the sensation of his tongue. Moving around and against it, forcing my head to incline toward the ceiling and back to arch.

I can’t help but try and indicate that I need Lando between my thighs, pushing up against him with my hips and never accepting defeat when he tightens his grip on my neck.

My eyes are heavy lidded as I watch his tongue slide down my cleavage and then back up to tease me with kisses along my collarbone and breasts. My hands slide up and down his back, soon gliding toward the bulge in his pants to press against it. I gain a whimper from him in advance of his hands now pushing me toward the ground from the caressing I received earlier.

He doesn’t have to tell me what he wants as he starts pulling his pants down to his knees and releases his dick.

“Come on, suck my cock like the slut you are.” He jerks his hips forward and instantly I grab him in my hands, inching it closer to my lips in advance of teasing his tip with my tongue.

Looking up at Lando as he stares down at me with blown pupils and ravenous eyes. Groaning, but he has too much pride to beg for my mouth to wrap around his dick so he forces it with his large hands. Intertwining his thick fingers between the locks of my hair and pushing my head down his dick. Instantly making me gag and tears to rim my eyes.

Each of my hands held his thighs as Lando thrust into my mouth ruthlessly. Never giving me a chance to gain composure. My mouth strains at his size, always pushing me to my limit whether it’s in my mouth or ass. Hitting the back of my throat constantly, pouring moans out of both our mouths.

I soon get used to each rough ram, and my hand lifts to start massaging his balls. Knowing all too well what it does to him. A string of moans leave his mouth sounding just like music to my ears making me moan and send vibrations through his cock.

The tears in my eyes, now sliding down my face. Lando’s dick starts twitching in my mouth and it doesn’t take him long to release. Shooting his cum into my mouth and allowing it to hit the back of my throat. He tells me to swallow it immediately, and I obey his command, shortly showing him my mouth that's clear of his cum.

I help myself stand up and Lando pulls me in for a kiss, giving him the opportunity to taste himself. Each of my hands become gripped by his and when the kiss breaks I watch him tie each of them together with the belt he wore earlier this night.

Lando raises both my arms above my head before lowering onto his knees, kneeling down in front of me. With rough hands my dress is forced off of my body in advance to my legs being spread apart.

“Fuck, you’re dripping aren’t you?” I can only whimper, knowing well that I’m as wet as an ocean. I can’t hold back when his finger lightly glides through my folds, pressing against my clit for a second before he pulls away.

I whine at the sudden loss of his touch. Having an even more urgent need for him, I lower my arms that are still bound together and I try to force his head toward my body. “Arms back up.” He looks up at me with dark eyes. I do as he says and once I finish following his orders one of my legs is now hanging over his shoulder. Lando’s cold breath caresses my core and my pussy flutters as another whine leaves my mouth.

I gain a feather of a touch from the tip of his tongue, the struggle of keeping my arms up even harder. The teasing seemed endless to me until he made his licks more firm and consistent. Sliding through my folds and dipping inside of me. Sucking on my clit and flicking it with his tongue.

My hips naturally push forward and oblige Lando to get deeper, as well as using his heart lips to add another sensation. His hands always occupied as they keep a strong grip on my ass and thighs. Soon lifting my other leg to drape over his shoulder, now my whole body relying on him and his mouth that keeps me flush against this wall.

I hear the music shooting throughout the club, making the walls lightly shake and hide the loud unholy sounds that leave this room.

My mind is suddenly pulled back into this moment and feeling as Lando inserts one of his thick fingers inside of me. He pumps it viciously and quickly adds another. Tongue still toying with my swallowed clit.

My mind is blank, covered by a haze and no words appear but moans come easily. I can never get enough of the pleasure he bestows upon me and that’s when I feel my climax urging to release. And with the sensual curl of his fingers and work of his tongue I manage to cum in bare milliseconds.

I remove one of my legs off of his shoulder and wait for him to try and clean me dry with his tongue. He fails just like I’d expected as just his state between my legs makes me aroused.

My arms lower and I allow him to take the belt off, all while he kneels in front of me. Once my hands are free I take the belt and push both of his arms together, making the job easy for me when I start to bind his wrists together.

He gives me a questioning look, but still allows me to carry on. I choose not to answer but instead help him lay back on the floor of the spacious bathroom. I can’t help but admire his beauty as he lays on the ground vulnerable.

Doe eyes on display along with tousled hair. I stand over his body before lowering to squat over his erect dick. My hands lifted his above his head and I then splayed my palms across his chest, dress shirt now unbuttoned. I adjust my body in a comfortable position before I sink onto his dick.

Lando shuts his eyes and hands come back down to make contact with my sweat trickled skin.

“Arms back up.” The command leaves my mouth easily, mirroring his words and the exact way he said them to me. Surprisingly, he obeys me instantaneously. Lifting his arms back up, not without a whine overflowed with pleasure and need.

“You like that, huh?” I tease him, rolling my hips and making another moan leave his mouth involuntarily. He nods his head, eyes still screwed shut.

“Answer with your words, and look at me.” Just like last time, he listens to me. His rainforest of eyes open and look directly in mine as he answers a quick “yes”.

I acknowledge his answer by moving up and down his dick once again, grinding my hips on the way down just how he likes. It helps me get used to his size, still feeling the stretch even after however long he’s been fucking me in more ways then I can count.

I find a good pace, trying to get as low as I can and make him push against my g-spot endlessly. Leaning down and adorning his tan skin with a contrast of love bites. I mark him in the same places he did to me. Never getting bored of his moans and whimpers, but growing a bigger obsession instead.

I speed up the tempo, and one of my hands slips between my two legs, giving me the little push it needs to bring me closer to my climax. I feel the movement of Lando’s cock inside of me as he releases. The sound of his voice and feeling of his cum shooting inside of me brings myself to another climax. Cumming all over his dick and riding both of our highs out.

I soon bring myself to a stop, Lando still buried deep in me.

“Can you undo this now?” He brings his wrists in front of my face, eyes pleading.

“No, I like you like this.”

750 notes · View notes

satorusugurugurl · 26 days

Text

My Wedding Date is an Escort!

Summary: When invited to your best friend's wedding, you panic. One of the groomsmen, Toji Fushiguro, is your ex-fiancè. Not wanting to deal with probing questions and the embarrassment of being single, your friend Haibara recommends using an Escort! Taking a leap of faith, you book one, the hottest one. Gojo Satoru is hot, sweet, and funny! The package deal! Men and Women pay thousands to go on a date with him (even more, which he doesn't do often). So when your request comes in, the desperation and pleading tone of your voice. Gojo’s heartthrobs, even more so when you tell him you don't want to have sex.

Pairing: Escort!Gojo x FAB Reader

Word Count: 3,882

Warning: Mentions of depression, anxiety, language, steamy kisses, pillow walls

A/N: Ah yes, trauma dumping before things get super spicy!!! Love the communication, it’s giving this could be a great relationship but it’s complicated. If you want to be included in the tag list, you MUST have your age in your bio PLEASE!!! Thank you!!

Part One Part Three Part Four Part Five

Your breathless words had the world crashing down around Satoru as he stared at your flushed face. His eyes widened as he released you, his own heart hammering in his chest. He had never lost control like that before! But there was this pull in his chest, one that screamed that he needed to protect you from the walking douchebag with black hair away from his; no, what the fuck? Not his girl, his client!

“Holy fuck, I'm sorry! Shit, uhm, I shouldn't have done that.” Satoru grumbled, scrubbing his hands down his face. “I’m sorry.”

Your fingers trailed slowly over your lips. They were still tingling. “No, it's okay. I almost blew our cover.” Satoru slowly dragged his hands down his face, his eyes transfixed on you as you spoke. “That was all part of the act. If you didn't do that, it wouldn't have looked as convincing.” Satoru visibly seemed to relax, shoulders slumping as he sighed.

“Thank fuck.”

“It was just weird.”

“I'm sorry?”A white eyebrow cocked up at your words. “Me kissing you was weird? Was it bad?”

Your face flushed more, the heat spreading across your cheeks before setting over your chest. “Oh god, that came out wrong!” Your hands shot up in defense. “I-I didn't mean like that, Satoru! I just—I haven't kissed anyone in over a year and a half. So I guess I just—yeah, I’m rusty.”

“No,” you jerked your head up, “no, it was nice.” Stunning blue eyes softened, making you swallow hard. He thought it was nice. He is the hottest man on the planet, and ESCORT thought kissing you was nice.

What the fuck was this life?

Snapping out of the trance Satoru had you in; you cleared your throat. “I-I think I’m gonna take a s-shower!” You tossed the extra pillow to the futon on the floor. “Oh, and uhm, that kiss was nice for me too.” You turned, bolting for the bathroom before slamming the door.

You slowly slid down it, sitting on the ground as you touched your lips. Satoru had such soft lips. It felt really good being kissed like you were wanted. No, no, it was an act! It's all an act. An act that had Satoru pacing the floor as he ran his hand through his hair.

It was only once he heard the shower running that he sat on the ground. What the fuck was that?! His pale skin was almost red as he tugged at white tufts of hair. He never got flustered with clients before! Maybe he was going insane. He must be because his mind keeps replaying the kiss repeatedly.

The way you stiffened, how your hands gripped him so tight as he kissed you like he had never kissed a client before. Satoru slapped both his cheeks before shaking his head. That breathtaking kiss was nothing more than him doing his job. He was looking out for you as a client. Yeah, that was it. That asshole of a guy was the reason his heart was still racing as he thought of you and your lips.

By some miracle, both of you managed to pull your thoughts away from the kiss. You showered before switching with Satoru. He finally came out ten minutes later, grinning as he witnessed you placing the four extra pillows down the middle of the futon. You fluffed, pushed, and sat back to assess your constriction before repeating the process repeatedly until Satoru barked out a laugh from behind.

“Quit the impressive wall you’ve built.” Looking over your shoulder, you watched Satoru pull a tank top over his head. He slowly pulled it down over chiseled abs that had to have been crafted by a Renaissance artisan. Because there was no way those were real. “I’ve never had a client do that before.”

”Please don’t take it personally.” You whispered under your breath before fluffing another pillow. “It makes me feel a bit better; I haven’t shared a bed with anyone in a while.”

“Hey, no worries, whatever makes you feel comfortable, you keep doing it.”

God, why was he so nice? Sure, you paid him the big bucks to pretend to be your boyfriend. But that didn’t mean he had to be so understanding and kind regarding your antics. If anything, you would have assumed your pillow wall would have irritated anyone. You know for a fact that Toji would have hated it.

His kind, understanding patience had you transfixed on his movements as you both settled into bed. You were on your side, facing him as he stared at the ceiling, his hands resting behind his head. The silence wasn’t at all awkward. It was comforting in a way. You didn’t have to force yourselves to make dreadful small talk; you could enjoy the silence.

The silence, however, had questions eating away at your insides. “Satoru?” Your voice mingled with chirping crickets and the warm spring breeze outside. You waited until his head turned in your direction before you continued. “Would it be okay if I asked you a question?” His face softened as he nodded his head.

”Of course.”

“Why did you become an escort?”

Satoru chuckled, rolling onto his side so you both faced each other. “I think I’ve answered that question about a million times, so it’s easy.” His arm snaked around one of the pillows between you, hugging it to his chest. “I come from a pretty influential clan. It’s all about power, money, and success with them, and being an only child, they expected a lot from me.” His eyes rolled. “The old geezers kept going about when I would get married and have my own kids. And I didn't want anyone else feeling that way.” A cunning smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “So, I became an escort to help people.” He snickered, hugging the pillow tighter. “Plus, I get to annoy those controlling old farts. So it’s a win-win for me. But I still handle my family affairs; being an escort is like my second job.” His words were genuine, and they had you smiling.

”That’s actually really sweet.” You shifted, inching just a bit closer to him. “You seem like a genuinely nice guy, doing stuff like this for strangers.” You giggled nervously, shaking your head. “That speaks volumes; I know you’re a nice guy, but I don’t know a thing about you.”

”I’ll tell you anything you want to know. Honestly.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Okay, so do you like sleeping with your clients? Or has sex lost its spark?” You watched him curiously.

He shrugged a shoulder, smirking. “Sex is still good when it's with a good partner. But I honestly don't sleep with a majority of my clients. One because, well, let's be honest, they can't afford it. I charge double the price of a single day for sex. So that's ¥240,000.”

“For sex?!”

“Yep! So people can't afford it, especially when I do family events like this. But I usually refuse; I don't particularly like sleeping with someone unless I know them. You know?”

You hummed, and Satoru grinned, inching himself closer. Another one of your constructed pillows shifted out of the way. “I understand. I'm glad you have the right to refuse.” He nodded, blue eyes almost sparkling in the light of the moon flooding the room. “Have you ever been in love?”

“Puppy love, nothing more than that.” Satoru pursed his lips in thought. “But I'm not opposed to falling in love someday.”

“God,” you groaned, rolling into your back, “look at me, asking you stupid questions like I’m in high school.”

Satoru sat up, laying on his elbow as he looked down at you with a pout. “No! No, I don't mind! I like talking to you.” He was leaning over you, smiling wide, white strands of hair falling in his face.

“I like talking to you too, Satoru.”

Satoru wanted to reach out and move Y/H/C strands out of your face. To see if your skin felt as soft as it looked, to feel your warmth. His hand moved, and just before it touched you, he dropped it, clenching it in the pillow

“Y/N, could I ask you something?”

“Seeing as I asked you something, it's only fair.” You smiled, and it was so fucking cute Satoru wanted to bury his face in the pillow and kick his feet. Restraining his urge, he cleared his throat.

“You mentioned your ex in passing. I'm assuming it was that asshole from earlier?” You frowned, nodding. “I don't like to pry or push my clients, but I keep thinking about what you said. What did you mean by ‘why didn't he?’ when I asked why he broke up with you.”

Sitting up, you sighed, eyes slowly shutting. Remembering that night was something you desperately tried to avoid. Satoru, however, had opened up to you, and he was helping you. Plus, he'd already caught a glimpse of Toji, so you might as well bite the bullet and tell him.

Sucking in a deep breath, you exhaled slowly, bringing your knees to your chest, hugging them. “Toji Zen’in and I were high school sweethearts. He was my first for everything, so of course, I fell hard. We moved in together when we graduated high school into a small apartment in Kyoto. We got engaged at nineteen, and things went downhill.” Your grip tightened around yourself. “To make a painfully long story short, Toji developed a gambling habit, burning through his savings while I was in college.” The sheets shifted as Satoru sat up, turning to watch you with narrowed eyes.

“So, as a novice baker working at my parent's inn at twenty-one, I faced a dilemma. My fiancè was jobless, nonetheless, and behind on our rent.” The inside of your nose began to burn as tears threatened to escape. “I could leave him and focus on me and my career. I'd be losing my home and the supposed love of my life. Or I could use the money I saved up for pastry school to cover the rent we were behind on.”

Sheets shifted, and a large hand gently grabbed your chin, forcing you to look into Satoru’s eyes. “You didn’t.” The tears streaming down your cheeks answered his question. “Y/N—” A sad, broken laugh sounded in your chest.

“I did. Used everything I saved up to keep us in our apartment for four years.” Nausea churned in your stomach as you laughed a little louder. “After all of that, everything I did, he broke off our engagement. He said he didn't love me, that he couldn't see himself with me five years down the road.” More tears fell down your cheeks, landing on the sheets. “Toji said I was too focused on my career, my dreams, that I was eating too many sweets. That I wasn't as exciting as I used to be.” Satoru’s gaze darkened as you spoke, watching you wipe uselessly at your eyes. “That devastated me, so I packed up, moved to Tokyo, and got pastry training. I haven't been back since.”

“That fuckin’ dick!” Satoru looked obviously upset over everything coming out of your mouth. “Seriously, you're beautiful, god I hate people like that!” No one should ever be treated the way you have been. To take care of a partner, give up on a dream for someone who you were supposed to marry, to have them pull shit like that. It made Satoru sick to his stomach.

“Yeah, I'm still trying to get over it. In a way, I guess I'm happy it happened because I feel like I wouldn't have gotten as far in my career as I have. But the scars are still there, along with the trust issues. I can't bring myself to date anyone, let alone have sex.”

Oh. Satoru perked up at you mentioning sex. You had told him you didn't need sex. The reasoning behind that was like an itch he couldn't scratch. You brought it up, so he might as well take the opportunity to ask while he had that.

“Why is that? The sex part, I mean, you deserve your needs to be taken care of as much as the next person.”

“That my friend is because he broke up with me right after we had sex. Imagine just having an orgasm, and your boyfriend gets off of you and tells you he wants to break up before listing everything wrong with you.”

“Fuckin’ shithead.” Satoru wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into his chest and hugging you as tightly as possible. “I'm so sorry you went through that. He's an asshole for doing that to you.” Satoru’s hand gently stroked your head as your face rested in the crook of his neck. “I hope you recover soon because you deserve to feel loved and happy.” His hand paused as he snickered. “And have mind-blowing sex that makes you forget all about those bullshit excuses he gave you.”

Gojo Satoru’s words and tone were so genuine you found yourself smiling into his neck. Your arms wrapped around him as you lay down. “I hope so, too. Thank you, Satoru.”

“No, thank you for sharing that with me; it means a lot.”

The two of you stayed like that, his hand stroking your hair while you rested on his chest. Your pillow wall lasted thirty minutes and was never constructed again that night or the following one because there was a comfort you and Satoru found in each other.

The two of you had so much fun during the day. Laughing and talking as you would hang around with your family and friends. You told stories and jokes and went to dinners with the wedding party together. He got along well with everyone, and your friends liked him and his looks. At the same time, your parents admired him for helping around the inn, delivering towels to guests, and cleaning up with you. They saw him as a perfect partner, just like you had paid him to do it.

But you were beginning to wonder if it was just his job or just him being Gojo Satoru. The amount of laughing and talking you did in front and behind closed doors didn't feel like he was doing another job. He seemed to be enjoying himself truly. The days seemed to fly by, and it was hard to believe it was Wednesday night. Satoru walked you to the bar your friends were at for the bachelorette party. If it was Wednesday, you only had four days left with him.

“Are you planning on getting drunk, like super drunk?” Satoru asked, looking at you from over his sunglasses. “Because that's a sight I would pay money to see.”

“Nah, I'll have a few drinks, but I don't like getting hammered drunk.” You gently bumped your shoulder into his side. “You sure you don't want to join us? The girls said they’re okay if you join.”

“Eh, I don't like drinking. I'm a lightweight, and it never appealed to me. If Suguru were here, oh, he'd be down.” You beamed up at him as he mentioned his one and only best friend. “Seriously, he'd love this shit. Being surrounded by girls, drinking with them.” Satoru shoved his hands in his pockets. “Seriously though, he'd love you. You two would get along great. I’ll have to introduce you to him when we get back to Tokyo.”

His words struck you like a hot iron. He was pulling out his phone and checking the time, oblivious to what he had just said. The man you were paying to be your boyfriend for a week wanted to introduce you to his friend? His best friend!

It had your heart fluttering as butterflies swarmed in your stomach. Satoru hadn't even corrected himself as he peered down at you, returning the warm and happy smile you were positive was tugging at your lips. God, you hadn't been this happy in so long.

“Yeah, I’d like that a lot.”

“Cool! We should set something up. Maybe we could get din—”

The door to the bar flew open, and your friends, all looking intoxicated, spotted you. “There she is! Hurry up, Y/N, you need to catch up!” the bride-to-be slurred as she reached for you.

“Waaait!! Mina, let her say bye to Satoru!!” another bridesmaid said, smacking her arm.

“Right! Right, sorry!”

You giggled, looking into Satoru’s cerulean eyes. “I'm being summoned. I should get going.” Gojo snorted, leaning down and kissing you on the lips. “I'll see you later.”

“Uhm, excuse me.” Mina had a disgusted look on her face. “What the fuck was that lame-ass kiss?” Your other friends nodded in agreement. “Satoru, what the fuck? Don't you like Y/N?”

“Of course, I like my girlfriend Mina.”

“Then kiss her like you mean it!!”

You turned, giving Mina a look that could curdle dairy. “Mina, stop.” She flipped you off, her attention never leaving Satoru’s face.

“If I don't get to go to a strip club, I wanna see a steamy kiss!” The other girls whistled and cheered. “I want it steamy! I'm talking smutty romance-level shit!”

“Mina!”

“What you both are hot as fuck! Consider it a wedding gift!!”

“Kiss her! Kiss her! Kiss her!!”

Oh great, now your drunken friends were chanting, and bystanders were watching. With a grimace, you turned to the very amused Satoru, who stared down at the drunken girls before his gaze fixed on you. He shrugged a shoulder as if saying, sure, why not? But he left the decision up to you.

While you were tempted not to make your poor pretend boyfriend a walking spectacle for a group of drunk women. The thought of having to listen to them bitch and moan about you being a party pooper was way worse. So you sighed before turning to face Satoru with a smile.

“You heard them. If we do this, I can return the dish set we bought.”

“You don't have to tell me twice.”

Satoru grabbed you by the throat, pinning you against the wall of the bar. His lips slammed against yours in a heated kiss you'd only seen in movies. His tongue was licking your bottom lip, and you so willingly obliged, opening your mouth, allowing his tongue entrance. Satoru trailed the hand that was around your throat down your curves. His large hand gripped your hips as he growled. Fuck he tasted so good, like cola and vanilla candy. Your tongue moved against his, trying to taste more of him.

While you tasted like strawberries and chocolate to him, it was like a symphony of tastes between your tongues. One that he didn't want to end, his knee pushed its way between your legs, pressing firmly over your clothes core, making you gasp into his mouth, eyes going wide as the intimate touch. Your moan only made Satoru kiss you harder, desperate to feel the vibrations from the desperate sounds escaping your mouth.

“Whoa! Okay! Okay!” Mina shouted, her wine spilling as she hurried forward. “I said kiss her! Not fuck her in public.” Your best friend playfully swatted at his arm.

When Satoru broke the kiss, a string of saliva connected your bottom lips as you both gasped for air. The sheer intensity of the kiss rendered you speechless as he allowed his eyes to trail over your face. Taking in the flush tint of your cheeks, the way your body trembled under his hand, and the subtle way your hips rocked forward against his thigh. It looked like the kiss had as much of an effect on you as it did on him.

He pressed a soft kiss against your slightly swollen lips. “You did ask for a smutty book kiss.” Satoru sighed as he pulled away. “I just delivered what you asked for.” Mina said something along the lines of ‘smutty kiss without the smut, please’ as she headed back into the bar. “Well, she might not have enjoyed it, but at least you seemed like you did.” His teasing tone slowly brought you back to reality.

”Y-Yeah, it was lovely.” You fanned yourself before heading to follow after your friends. “I’ll see you later tonight.” You breathed out, but just before you could make it inside the door, Satoru grabbed your wrist, pulling you in for a hug.

”Call me when you’re done, and I’ll come get you, okay?”

”Okay.”

His lips were against yours again before he released you. “Okay.” He repeated your word back to you before waving you off as he headed back in the direction of the inn.

His kiss, the tone of voice, and the mere conversation of introducing him to his best friend whirled around your mind as you guzzled down a shot of sake, which had to have been the fifth one in the last forty minutes. While the other bridal party members were laughing and talking, you stared at the table. The kiss and Satoru’s words replayed over and over again in your head, like old sitcom reruns.

Was it normal for an escort to tell a client they wanted to introduce them to their friends? Was he just being friendly or taking pity on you? Then there was that kiss outside of the bar! He didn’t have to put his knee between your legs, but he did! Now your panties were wet, and the more you thought about the kiss, about him, the wetter they seemed to get.

Holy shit, what was wrong with you!?

Just three days ago, you told the guy you didn’t have sex; you didn’t need it. But the more you got to know him, the more times he kissed you, the more your icy resolve began to melt. Gojo Satoru was lighting a fire within you. One that you were very cautious of because you didn’t want to be burned again.

You got up from the table, swaying as you headed for the bathroom. Was Satoru just being nice? Or did he feel the same way you did? There was some sort of connection between the two of you. One that you might want to explore if he wants to as well. Why else would he talk to you the way that he did?

Entering the bathroom, you sighed, staring at your reflection in the mirror. Your fingers trailed over your still-swollen lip. Toji had never kissed you like that in the past. Staring in the mirror, you groaned. An image of Toji stood behind you, haunting you like he had done for the last year and a half.

“Ugh, just get the fuck out of my head and let me heal already.” You scolded the image of him in the mirror, flipping it off.

”I’m in your head?”

Your heart stopped, and your hand dropped to your side. Toji’s image smirked as he tilted his head. You were getting ready to ask yourself how drunk you were when Toji moved. His hands landed on the sink, caging you in while the smell of cedarwood engulfed you like a cloud of smoke.

”Toji—!”

“Shut up, we need to talk.”

(TBC)

Taglist:

@arminloverlol @jamzywiththejam28 @gojoful @maskedpacific @ahseyy @kash77 @sadmonke @ari-maccha @sugurubabe @hyori2 @bluechocolatemint @itsinherited @dellappatca @therealestpussyeater @dead-at-tokyo @nvrgojover @drakenswifeyy @nealeart @yunho-leeknow @fire-child-kira

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your-friendly-sociopath · 3 months

Text

I've been thinking recently about a story I made a while back about yandere alastor while he was alive, and apparently ppl liked it so I've decided to make a part two of that, but it's shortly after both alastor and his darling (reader obv) are dead

Also bc alastor is hot and I need more

Part one here

His Darling Doe, Pt 2

After Alastor had "saved" you in the alleyway, he never let you leave the cabin

For the rest of your (admittedly short) life, he had forced you into the role of the meek and helpless housewife

It wasn't so bad, he was a gentleman and always made sure you had everything you could want

Except your freedom of course

The night alastor died you thought you were finally free

But nope

Turns out that when the cops found out he was the killer, they thought you were an accomplice and had you sentenced to death

One moment you were on an electric chair, the next you were falling from the sky

As you were falling you heard a loud screech, and could see the devastated look coming from a glowing creature above

It looked like an angel

The next thing you noticed was a glowing green chain dragging you down (bc the chain scene was so hrrrgh)

And the last thing you noticed was two small wings attached to your back, you watched as the once snowy white color became corrupted by black and green -the same shade of green as the chain- then you hit the ground and blacked out

Again you woke up, face smushed against the weirdly warm cement

Confused, you slowly pulled yourself into a sitting position, and looked around trying to make sense of your surroundings

Right as you finally pulled yourself to your feet (or hooves, since ur a deer demon cause I say so) you heard a very loud, very staticy, and very family voice

A voice you had come to both dread and love while alive

"Ah, there are my dear. I was starting to think that my spells hadn't worked!"

Your eyes widened in horror as you turned to face the man you had once loved, your now discolored wings subconsciously wrapping around you in an attempt to comfort you

"No... not you" you whispered

Alastor tilted his head in confusion

" Whatever do you mean by that, my darling doe? I'd have thought you would be absolutely ecstatic to see me!"

You scowled at him and took a step back, to which he responded by smiling wider and stepping forward

"Come now my dear, you can't really be upset still, everything I did was to keep you safe."

Your ears (you hadn't noticed you deer ears in your hair until they had just moved, surprising you) flattened in irritation as your wings flared out in anger

"You kept me locked up in that God forsaken cabin," you hissed "trapped there to be nothing more than a trophy for you."

Alastor's eyes narrowed, he had known that you didn't like being kept in the house, but he couldn't just let you out!

Anything could've happened to you, he was simply protecting you!

Alastor decided to close the distance between you two, and quickly strided over to you, pushing you against the wall he trapped you in a passionate kiss

Despite your anger, you couldn't help but melt into the kiss, having missed him despite being separated for just under a month

You two stayed like that for a few minutes, relishing in each other's presence

When you finally came back to your senses, you shoved him away and ran

Distantly, you heard a record scratch as alastor took a moment to realize what you just did

Then he snarled, his smile growing impossibly wide as he shifted into his full demon form

You rushed through crowds of demons, a few of them snarling at you and threatening you, others catcalling

Now, despite being in hell for only a few weeks, alastor had already set a reputation as demon not to fuck with

So as you rushed through the crowds with a creepy ass deer demon chasing you, many knew not to interfere

Alastor reached out a long clawed hand, just barely brushing your arm

Panicked, you glanced back and saw alastor, looking like a fucking monster

You shrieked in terror, and out of instinct, your wings opened up and launched you into the sky

You heard alastor let out an unearthly, furious scream

You let yourself hope, for a brief moment, that you had escaped

Then the same glowing chain appeared around your neck, a d yanked you back down to the ground

You crashed into the broad chest of alastor, still in his demon form, as he whispered in your ear

"A valiant effort, my darling, but you forget. You couldn't escape me while alive, so what makes you think you can escape me now.." he growled "..now that I'm so much stronger."

"You can't escape me.. you are mine~"

He chuckled lowly at your continued struggling, watching as you finally went limp in his hold when he yanked on your chain

"Come along now, pet, it's time we went home"

The hand not holding the chain snaked around your waist, bringing you flush against his body

Everything went dark for brief moment, before the both of you appeared in front of a cabin

Your cabin

The one that you now considered a prison

You ears flattened once again, this time in despair as tears started to flow

You weren't ever going to escape now

He was much to powerful for anyone to go against

Alastor buried his face in your soft hair, nhaling deeply before walking you up to the front door, slowly turning back to normal from his demon form

"Ah, welcome home, my doe~"

Hehehehehehe

Finished another

Hot deer daddy

#yandere alastor #yandere hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #yandere alastor x reader

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starrystevie · 1 year

Text

"i need a favor."

it's simple enough for steve to hear even over the loud music in the club, and it definitely grabs his attention away from where he was staring blankly into the dancing crowd. he pulls his eyes to the person standing in front of him, gaze trailing over their form before settling on their face. he's cute, steve thinks, with his curly dark hair and big brown eyes that he could see himself getting lost in. he's cute enough for steve to listen to whatever favor he could possibly need.

"umm, hello to you too?" steve says it like a question, his eyebrows quirked up and a smile pulling at one side of his mouth. "what kind of favor might that be?"

the stranger smiles and sits in the seat next to steve, setting his beer on the table beside steve's nearly finished jack and coke. he's closer than he was before and steve can appreciate his face even better this way.

"it's my ex. you see," the stranger slings an arm around the back of steve's chair, pulls himself close so that he isn't having to scream as loudly over the booming club beats. "he's here and i knew it would be stupid to think i wouldn't run into him in the only queer club around, yet here he is. and here i am."

"is there supposed to be a favor in there somewhere?"

the stranger grins and steve suddenly gets the feeling he's a bird who's been cornered by a cat.

"well, i was hoping you might be able to help me. he knows i have a... weakness for pretty boys and you just happen to be the prettiest one here."

steve's heart thumps in his chest, strong and impatient as he watches the neon lights flash off this guy's teeth. he always thought he was the smooth one with all his charm and charisma, but this stranger was sitting next to steve like it was any other day and not like he had the possibility to turn his world upside down.

"help you how?"

the stranger's grin grew wider and his eyes not so subtly flicked down to watch steve's lips. "kissing would be a good start, then letting me drag you to the dance floor so he could see us. and maybe if you're feeling a little crazy, we leave together, make it seem like you're coming home with me. he's watching us right now, you know?"

steve gives him a blank stare as he tries to not let it show just how much fun he thinks it all could be. he's there alone, anyway, trying to drown his loneliness in his friend jack daniels, so what's stopping him from playing a little bit of pretend?

"and what's in it for me?" is what steve finally gets out, his breath stuttering minutely in his chest when he feels a palm cover his leg.

"what do you want?" the fingers squeeze around his knee.

it makes steve stop and think for a moment. he thinks long and hard about material things like at least 3 drinks bought for him or dinner after they escape together or paying his cover so they can get in to the bar down the road that plays shitty music but has a good atmosphere. but there's one thing steve could really use, something he doesn't get the chance for, something that this random guy's money wouldn't have to cover.

"an adventure."

there's no way to tell who moves first, whether it was steve fisting his hand into the guy's hair to close the distance between them or if it was the firm pull on his leg that turns him towards the stranger. it's messy, right off the bat, with a tongue pressing insistently against steve's lips that he's happy to meet with his own. the hand on his leg is a grounding touch that keeps steve from floating away, warm and strong and there.

the man's other hand wraps awkwardly around to rest on steve's waist as to bring him in closer and the force of it has steve stumbling out of chair and settling instead on the guy's lap. two hands wrap around his waist now and his own go back into the guy's hair, threading through the stands and holding on firmly.

"okay yeah, you were definitely the right choice for this, holy shit," the guy breaks away to catch his breath and grin at steve who sends him a grin in return. "you are so..."

he doesn't finish, lets his lips say the words he couldn't as he connects them with steve's once more. it's hot, both in temperature and otherwise. steve can feel a bead of sweat start to roll down his back as they kiss and roll against each other for lord knows how long. one of the stranger's hands comes to rest just above steve's ass and it has him pushing back into the touch before he can tell himself to stop.

"dance. we uhh," steve says breathlessly as he pulls away from the man. his eyes are hooded and his lips are slick and kissed red, the flush on his face visible even under the dark club lights. steve thinks he might already be a little bit in love. "you said we have to dance."

the hand that was trailing down to his ass makes its way to it's destination and presses firmly, so steve follows, lets himself be manhandled until they're sitting chest pressed to heaving chest.

"sorry sweetheart, you aren't moving anywhere just quite yet."

lips connect to his jaw and it feels like it's exactly where he's supposed to be. steve pushes into the man's space, gets them as close as possible to savor the moment. he doesn't get to have fun, not much anymore at least, with his job keeping him so busy he hardly even gets to see his friends. it's nice to push every real life responsibility to the side and be in the moment with a random man from a club.

"so what does he look like, your ex?" steve mummers against his ear, low and sultry. "is he looking at us now?"

he feels the man chuckle against him before kissing his way up his neck. "he's pretty standard looking, don't think i could describe him to you if i tried."

"okay but," he's cut off by lips pressing quickly onto his own before steve pulls away once more. "i need to know who i'm putting a show on for."

the man sighs, rests his forehead against steve's collarbone for a beat before biting at it playfully. "let's just say you're putting on a great show regardless of who it's for."

steve pulls back even further, watching the man roll his eyes as he tries to follow him with his mouth. "and i thank you for that, but really, where is he?"

the man pauses and every bit of confidence that was on his face melts away until he looks younger, looks almost nervous. he sighs again and drops his hands from where they were kneading into steve's sides before running them through his hair with a sad sounding chuckle.

"he's nowhere."

now it's steve's turn to pause. his thighs that were clenched so tightly around the man's legs release and he slumps down with a frown pulling at his mouth and arms crossing over his chest.

"explain."

"i just," the man winces, face crinkling up before settling back into something more neutral. "you're like insanely hot, which i'm sure you know, and i needed something so i could talk to you so-"

"so you lied? there's no ex?"

"... there's no ex."

steve's done more thinking in the last 30 minutes than he expected to in the entire evening. he didn't come out to a gay bar to think about anything and yet here is, contemplating a fucking pros and cons list about where to go from there. does he yell, punch him for lying, storm out and end up back home all alone in a empty apartment? it would serve the guy right, letting him stew in his guilt for lying so he could make out with someone.

"i'm steve," he says after making up his mind, hand extended out in front of him.

the stranger grabs it shyly, shaking his hand up and down slowly while he stares at steve. "i'm eddie?"

"is that a question?"

"no, i'm just-" he cuts himself off and shakes his head as if to clear it, pinning steve with a confused glare. "you're not mad?"

"mad, no. at least i don't think so. confused as to why you think you couldn't just talk to me, yeah."

the man, eddie, runs a hand down his face and pulls it away with a cheeky grin that makes steve smile at him back. "i'm sure you've looked in a mirror! you know why i couldn't just talk to you!"

it has steve laughing, full belly ache inducing laughing, in eddie's lap in a gay bar on a night that he planned to waste by being drowned in self-pity. he doesn't think he's ever had a weirder night and it's funny. he lifts his leg and stands up, watching the smile disappear from eddie's face to be replaced with a frown. he reaches down and grabs eddie's hand, pulling him to his feet and watching a beautiful smile spread back across the other man's face.

they're the same height, he realizes, as he presses his mouth to eddie's ear.

"i think you owe me a dance. and," he pauses, looks eddie in the eye and lets his hand travel to eddie's ass to pull them as close as possible. "-an adventure."

#steddie #steddie headcanon #yes i did just waste too much time at work writing this don't tell my boss #steve harrington #eddie munson #my writing #steddie drabble #steddie fic #this is i think my first kind of delve into modern steddie so may have to do it again #mayhaps this will have a spicy sequel who knows #steddie ficlet #1k #2k #3k #4k

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