#me?? having a Night™️?? more likely than you’d think | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

smutstevington · 8 months

Text

Resensitized | Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: You need a place to move in, and your new friend has a spare room. Turns out, he's a porn star, and now you can't stop thinking about him. What ever will you do?

Part 2 here and part 3 here :)

Word Count: 7.6K

Warnings: MINORS DNI PLEASE KEEP SCROLLING, smut, Pornstar!Eddie x fem reader (no defining characteristics or use of y/n), modern day, friends to lovers...kind of? Fingering, oral (fem receiving), protected p in v, the knee thing™️, Eddie is a soft dom but also a simp, reader is his exception, and they were roommates(!)

A/N: I'm baaaaack! I was randomly inspired by this concept and couldn't stop thinking about it until it was done. Please know I wrote this with as much respect to sex work as I could, but there might be some inaccuracies just because I'm not too familiar with the industry nowadays. Until next time! xx

-------------------

You met Eddie at a party. He was a friend of a friend’s plus one, so he didn’t really know anybody, and you noticed nobody was talking to him, so you went over there and struck up a conversation.

Eddie was sweet. Eddie was goofy. Eddie was a little rough around the edges, but ultimately gave you good vibes. You ended up talking to him for quite a while, and when the night came to an end, you realized you didn’t want to stop talking to him.

It wasn’t, like, a crush thing - although, he was handsome and definitely crush material - it was more that it was hard making friends as an adult, and you liked being around him. So many times, you’d met people and left them just as fast, and you didn’t want that to happen with Eddie.

You gave him your Instagram, which he followed, and then you requested to follow him back, which he accepted.

You didn’t talk much for a month or two. He didn’t really post anything, but would comment or react to your posts and stories. Most often, you complained about your living situation - your landlord and your roommates were awful, and eventually your lease came to an end. You jokingly posted - “who’s gonna help me find a new apartment?”

Eddie replied - I don’t know if you’d be interested, but I might be able to help.

It turned out that Eddie had a room vacant in his two-bedroom apartment. The idea seemed kind of out there at first, but you realized it wasn’t much different than searching for roommates online. Besides, this was safer, since you knew Eddie already, and you couldn’t afford an apartment by yourself, so…

You went over to look at his place, and holy shit. It was incredible there. Clean, although slightly cluttered with his various belongings - movie posters, music, video games, and the like. Also, the rent he was asking for was absurdly low. It felt like a no-brainer.

“Eddie, this is - I mean, this is perfect,” you told him. He grinned.

“Okay,” he said with a nod. “Uhh, there’s just one thing I feel like I should tell you before you move in.”

“What is it?” you asked. Suddenly, you saw Eddie get nervous, and you couldn’t possibly predict what would warrant that reaction. He took a deep breath.

“Maybe you already know, but it feels like you don’t know? So I just - ugh. If you don’t know, I think I gotta tell you.” You stared at him, confused.

“Eddie, I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about.”

He smirked slightly, then sighed as his hands fell to his sides.

“I…do…porn?” he said at last. You stared at him blankly as you processed this.

“I’m gonna need you to elaborate,” you replied. “Like OnlyFans?”

“Sometimes,” he answered. “Look, I - I’ve done it for a few years, and I guess I’m kinda popular. It’s why a lot of the time, people stay away from me, because it puts them off. Or, they’re embarrassed about recognizing me, which I guess I understand. But anyway, that’s why I was surprised you never said anything or asked me about it. Judging by your reaction, I’m guessing you had no idea.”

Huh.

“I…really didn’t.”

It wasn’t that you were judging him - not at all - but living with someone who did that sort of thing brought up all kinds of questions. Eddie’s anxiety returned.

“Ah, shit. That ruined everything, didn’t it?” He ran his hands through his hair. “I just - It’s how I make money, but it’s not my whole life or anything. But I felt like you should at least know about it if you were gonna live with me.”

“Do you do any of it here?” you asked. Eddie shrugged.

“Sometimes.”

You nodded slowly.

“Like, in the living room or just your room?” His eyes narrowed as he tried to assess how you felt through your line of questioning.

“Uhh - my room. I mean, I guess there was one time on the couch, but for the record I’ve gotten a new couch since then. Oh, and if you move in and don’t want me filming anything here, I won’t. Not even solo stuff. Shit. Sorry if this makes you uncomfortable, I just have a pretty casual view on sex and I kind of forget that not everybody -”

“I think I’m okay with this,” you decided.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” You looked around the beautiful apartment that would save you a crap ton of money, and you realized you couldn't pass this up. Besides, you weren’t a prude. “My last roommates had loud sex all the time, and our walls were so thin it felt like I was intruding, somehow.” Eddie laughed, his anxiety easing slightly. “Plus, I don’t care what you do. I bet it’s good money. As long as I’m not in any of the videos, we’re good to go.”

“Wow,” he responded, stunned. “I honestly didn’t expect you to be so cool about it.” You shrugged.

“Just don’t eat my food and we should be fine,” you concluded.

“Deal,” he replied. You shook his hand, and thus began your time as Eddie Munson’s roommate.

Ohhhh, this was a mistake.

Living with Eddie was a total breeze for the first two months. He was respectful and didn’t talk about work at all unless you asked him about it, which you didn’t. You both were pretty busy people so you didn’t even see each other that often.

But then, two months in, you got curious and watched one of his videos.

Holy. Shit.

First of all, you couldn’t believe you’d never stumbled across him before in your searches, because he was, like, really popular. He’d undersold himself, for sure. Although, you didn’t watch porn that often (you preferred reading it or listening to it), because usually there was something off about it. Like, the women felt like they were acting, or they weren’t even trying to hide that they were acting and were really bad at it, or the dirty talk was weird, etc etc.

Eddie’s videos were not like that.

(Yeah, after the first one you watched a few more).

Look, the man knew what he was doing. He had chemistry with everyone, and something about it was captivating. It’s not like you were getting off to them - that would have been weird - but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you the fuck on.

He hadn’t been lying either about the locations. None of the videos you’d watched were recorded at the apartment.

You weren’t sure if you would have cared if they had been, though. Like, as long as any shared furniture was cleaned after, it wasn’t a huge deal, right? Pretty much every couch anywhere you go has been used for sex at some point. So, this wasn’t much different.

Anyway, watching Eddie’s videos had been a mistake, because now when you saw him in the morning, pouring himself a cup of coffee in his robe, you knew what he looked like naked.

Fuck.

“Morning,” he said casually. “Want some?” You nodded, and then he took another mug from the cupboard and poured coffee into it for you. When you went to the kitchen counter to grab it from him, his knuckles brushed yours, and you jumped a little at the touch. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice. You went to the fridge and took the creamer from the shelf, then topped off your coffee with it.

“How’d you sleep?” you asked.

“Good,” he replied. “Oh, so I’m going to the grocery store in a bit. You need anything?” You took a sip of your coffee before answering.

“Uhhh, yeah, but I was actually planning on going myself,” you said.

“We could go together,” he suggested.

You took another sip of coffee as a way to stall, even though it was too hot. You had no reason from his perspective to say no - the two of you had gone on errands together a few times, and it had been fine. Besides, you legitimately had to go to the grocery store, so if you said no and went later it would just look suspicious.

”Sounds good,” you agreed with a smile. He smiled back, then nodded.

“Great, just let me know when you’re ready.”

You finished your coffee in your room, because being around him was making you nervous. It was so dumb, feeling this way. Nothing had changed. You were the same people you’d been yesterday. Watching that video was an incredibly poor choice, but at the same time, how were you supposed to refrain? You lived with a guy who was famous for getting women off. You wondered how you hadn’t known any of this when you’d first met him, but then pieces came together. The reason he was alone at the party. Why his Instagram was private. Why he didn’t have a roommate.

When you agreed to move in, you promised yourself you wouldn’t be weird about it, and now here you were, hiding in your room because you were too awkward to maintain small talk with your roommate.

Eventually, you got dressed and psyched yourself up for what was to come. You just had to get those videos out of your mind, that’s all.

Easy enough, right?

Wrong!

“Did you listen to the song I sent you yesterday?” he asked as you walked to the car.

“Uh, no, not yet,” you replied. He clutched his heart as if you had broken it, then laughed.

“Okay, well then I guess I know what we’re listening to on the way.”

Once again, all of this should have been easy like it always was. But you couldn’t stop staring at his hands on the steering wheel, the rings on his fingers, and - God forbid - his lips. And his eyes? Forget it.

“Good song,” you said, staring straight ahead at the road.

“Of course it is, I picked it out,” he teased. You saw him glance at you in your peripheral vision. “Everything okay? You’re quiet today.”

“Everything’s fine,” you blurted out, maybe too quickly to be convincing.

“Ooookay,” he responded. “Well, I don’t believe you, but you can keep your secrets.”

You remained slightly awkward and flustered around him, particularly any time he touched you. He’d tap you on the shoulder to get your attention, or reach across you to grab a bunch of bananas that you were standing in front of, and it came to a point where you told him you had to go off on your own to grab something just because you knew you were totally giving yourself away. But after a few more minutes to yourself in the chips aisle, you felt relatively normal again.

Disaster only really struck on the way home.

“So, this tattoo place on the right,” he said. “That’s where I usually go. The guy who works there is incredible. His designs are sick as hell.”

“How many do you have?” you asked. He scrunched his eyebrows as he thought about it.

“I guess it depends on what you’d count as one,” he replied. “Like, I have almost a half-sleeve on my right arm, but I didn’t get it all done at once.”

“Count them however you’d like.” He thought about it some more, then shrugged.

“I have a lot of them, and I always want more.”

“I’ve heard it’s addictive,” you replied. “So, what would you get next?”

“I’m thinking about adding to the one on my thigh,” he answered.

“The witch?” you asked. He raised his eyebrows. The tattoo on his thigh was pretty iconic, actually. It was a woman on a broomstick with her tits out. Not something you would ever personally get, but Eddie pulled it off. “Are you going to give her a friend? Or a bra?”

Eddie snorted laughing, then covered his mouth in an attempt to stifle it. It didn’t work, and he burst into laughter again.

“Come on, my joke wasn’t that funny,” you said, rolling your eyes. Eddie’s laughter finally faded enough for him to explain.

“I never told you what the tattoo was,” he informed you. Your eyes widened as you realized your mistake.

“I - um -”

“That’s what’s going on! You looked me up!” he exclaimed. Despite your absolute humiliation, he seemed to only find it amusing. “Don’t get all shy about it. It’s fine. I’m honestly impressed you held out this long.”

“Can we not talk about it?” you asked, trying to awkwardly laugh with him but mostly wishing you were six feet underground.

“Whatever you want, roomie,” he replied with a grin. “I’m just glad I didn’t do anything wrong.” You bit your lip, then released it.

“No, you did pretty much everything exactly right,” you responded, deciding to lean into the awkward situation. Eddie licked his lips and smirked.

“Good to hear,” he said, smug. He pulled into your apartment complex, parked the car, and took the keys from the ignition. You felt like you couldn’t breathe in there, so you rushed out of the car and made a beeline for your front door as soon as you were able. He caught up as you worked the lock open, and you could feel his eyes on your shaking hands. “You know, you’re cute when you blush,” he said.

The door unlocked and you pushed it open, but it’s not like the apartment you shared with him was going to be any less charged. You tried to continue acting less nervous than you were.

“Oh, you’re flirting with me now?” you teased, leaving your keys on the counter. His voice continued behind you.

“I flirt with everyone,” he said. “Sorry, I’ll reel it in. Just, we were talking about -”

“No, I know,” you interrupted. You turned around, deciding to face this situation head on, since you were already knee-deep in it anyway. “Okay, let’s talk about it.” He raised his eyebrows at you.

“About what I do?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Alright. What do you wanna know?”

You took a deep breath and asked something that you’d been wondering for the last two months.

“Is it weird, knowing that most people you know have seen you naked?”

Eddie didn’t seem fazed by the question in the slightest - not that you expected him to be. He shrugged.

“I like the way I look,” he replied. “It actually doesn’t bother me at all.” You clicked your tongue to your teeth and asked another question.

“Does anything about it bother you?” To your surprise, he took the question seriously, taking his time as he came up with a response.

“It definitely feels like I live in a different world a lot of the time,” he answered. “Like, I go to work, I meet the person I’m supposed to fuck, and then I do whatever I gotta do to get them off. That’s all it is, really. After a while, it just feels like going through the motions. The excitement isn’t really there anymore. On the other hand, I make a shit ton of money to have sex with beautiful people, so…”

You tried to ignore the way the heat rose to your cheeks as he talked about work. From what you’d seen, it was clear that not one person had faked their enjoyment for him. Of course, it made you a little curious what it would be like, but not curious enough to do anything about it.

At least, not yet.

“You’ve never, like, caught feelings?” you asked. “Or maybe gotten coffee with one of them? Wait, do you ever have sex off camera?”

“Wooow, you’ve really been thinking about this, huh?” he teased, jumping up to sit on the counter beside you. Being next to him was starting to feel comfortable again, now that you were speaking freely. “Uhh, well for starters, I don’t have sex off-camera very often, honestly. My job doesn’t make it that easy to date. And yeah, I’ve met up with partners after if I feel like we’d get along, but I don’t know. It always feels more like friendship than anything else.” You cocked your head curiously.

“But you had sex with them,” you pointed out, confused.

“You’ve never fucked one of your friends before?” he asked. You shook your head. “Oh. Well, like I said, my perception of this kind of thing is a little skewed.”

You nodded slowly, then realized those were all of your main questions. Talking about it actually did make things a whole lot better.

“Thank you for being so open about it,” you told him.

“Thank you for sticking around,” he replied. “And seriously, you can ask me anything. Or, we can never talk about it again. Up to you.”

“Thanks,” you said with a smile. “I’ll let you know.”

He went off to do his thing and you did yours, and that was that. Things went back to normal again, more or less - at least for another week.

The problem was, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. When you were trying to sleep at night, your curiosity coursed through you to search his name again, and it became increasingly difficult not to succumb to it. You didn’t want to cross that line, though. It felt like a necessary boundary to have.

Instead, you did what you usually did. You read, you listened, you pictured things in your head.

Your mind always wandered to your roommate anyway.

One night, Eddie had left, and he was supposed to be gone until morning. You used it as an opportunity to walk around naked, watch romantic comedies on the couch, and listen to music he’d hate as loudly as you wanted. It was glorious.

You were in your room dancing in a t-shirt and underwear, and it was turning out to be an excellent night. Eventually, your friend called, so you chatted with her for a bit on speaker phone as you put away your laundry. Naturally, Eddie came up.

“Okay,” she said. “There’s a really simple solution here, and it’s to fuck your hot Sex-God of a roommate.” You rolled your eyes.

“That’s not simple, and it’s not a solution,” you replied. “And our relationship isn’t like that. I can’t believe you looked him up.”

“Of course I looked him up! One of us had to!” your friend shouted back. “And, can I just say - damn.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” you responded with a sigh. “I’m just trying to be…respectful.”

“It sounds like he doesn’t care at all,” your friend noted. “But I get it, I guess. You’re a lot stronger than I’ll ever be.” You laughed.

“Thank you, I think I deserve a medal for going through this while also not having had sex in six months.”

“Absolutely,” your friend agreed. “Alright, girlie, I’m headed to bed. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

You hung up the phone and hung a few sweaters up in your closet, then walked into the kitchen to grab yourself a drink. The problem was, when you got there, you realized that Eddie had beat you to it.

“Want something?” he asked, bent over into the fridge.

“Fuck!” you yelled, jumping back. “What are you -? Why are you - ? When did you -?” Eddie laughed and grabbed two beers from the fridge, then closed the door and handed you one.

“Relax,” he said. “My plans fell through so I came home early. I like your pants, by the way.” You looked down at yourself to realize you weren’t wearing any. You chuckled, then pushed him away from you.

“Dick,” you said, cracking the can open. He did the same, and then you clinked your beers together before each taking a sip. “Thank god I’m wearing some clothes. I wasn’t a few hours ago.”

“That’s hot,” he teased.

“Shut up.” You turned to go back to your room so you could put real pajamas on, and were confused when he followed you in.

“Your friend has a point by the way,” Eddie said. You froze in your tracks, then pivoted to face him.

“What?” you asked, your stomach dropping to the floor. “Wait, how much of that conversation did you hear?”

“Uhhh, well I definitely heard that whole last part about me,” he replied. “Six months, by the way? I agree, you do deserve an award for that.”

Jesus Christ.

“Oh my God I have to move out,” you said. Eddie laughed, then pulled you closer to him by the wrist. You felt your breath hitch at being so close to him. Your eyes met his, and you immediately felt hypnotized.

“Listen,” he said, his grip on your wrist burning into your skin. “Feel free to tell me to fuck off, but six months is a long time, and I could help out if you wanted.”

“Eddie, are you seriously suggesting…?” The corner of his lip twitched up slightly.

“It wouldn’t mean anything, obviously. I just know you’re curious, and since you’re going through a dry spell or whatever I could be of service. And then it would be out of the way, and you could move on.”

You stared at him, having a million thoughts at once.

Yes, you wanted that very much. The thought of it alone was already making your core ache and throb for him. You knew he would blow your mind, and it had been so long…

Then again, you also knew it was a horrible idea. You both lived together, and having sex would complicate things. Most of all, you knew that - despite what he was saying - it would mean something, and you wouldn’t move on. He could, but you couldn’t. That’s not how it worked for you.

“I can’t,” you said. He nodded and dropped your hand.

“Alright,” he replied casually. “Then you should go fuck someone else so you stop thinking about me.”

“I’m not thinking about -”

“Good night,” he smirked.

He left your room, and you heard him walk to his own room and shut the door.

He was probably right. You needed to break your dry spell. So, you did what any sensible person would do and re-downloaded Tinder. By the following night, you’d found a suitable guy to hook up with.

You invited him to your apartment instead of going to his, because it felt safer. And Eddie unshockingly had no problems with it, so that wasn’t an issue. He said he was going to stay in his room and listen to music, and to just text him when you were done.

So…you did that.

The sex was bad. Like, remarkably bad. The man clearly had relied on his good looks and big dick and felt like that was enough. The worst part was that he thought he was nailing it the whole time. He was only over for about 45 minutes total, after which you told him you had to get to bed. He seemed disappointed, but also he’d just had sex so he wasn’t too bummed about it.

You texted Eddie, and within a few minutes you heard his door open and his footsteps approaching your room from down the hall.

“Damn, he’s gone already?” he teased, staring out the window to see your Tinder hook-up driving away. “That’s a shame. I wanted to meet the man that caused you to do the worst fake orgasm sounds I’ve ever heard.”

“Eddie!” you yelled, wrapping your robe tighter around yourself. “You said you wouldn’t listen!”

“I got curious! Sue me!” he shouted back. “Now we’re even. Curiosity got the best of both of us.”

You stared at him for a moment, then realized he was right. You sighed.

“Fine,” you said. “Thanks for recommending I do that, by the way. Now my body count is higher and my dignity is shattered.” Eddie laughed.

“Body counts are bullshit anyway,” he replied. “Sorry he couldn’t get you there.”

“Guys usually can’t,” you told him. Which was true - you mainly could only come using toys, and most guys seemed intimidated at the idea of using them. Like it was emasculating or something.

“I bet I could,” Eddie said with a smirk.

“I bet you could, too,” you agreed. “I’m gonna go shower.”

“Have fun,” he teased. You rolled your eyes and made your way to the bathroom.

Showering did clear your mind a bit, but made you no less sexually frustrated. You tried to touch yourself, but weren’t getting anywhere, so you just got yourself clean instead. You put a fresh pair of underwear on and wrapped your robe around yourself, then headed back to your room.

Eddie was right beside your door - leaning against the wall, arms crossed. He eyed you up and down, then took a step towards you.

“I have a question,” he said.

“Um, okay.”

“Have you ever gotten off to my videos?”

He asked it so casually, you needed a minute to even comprehend what he was saying, and even longer to realize he wasn’t kidding.

“Eddie, what the hell?” you replied. You tried to maintain your composure, but your attempts were futile. Especially when he looked at you like that.

“I’ve just been wondering,” he continued. “Curiosity, that’s all.” You swallowed.

“Not to any of your videos,” you answered.

“To the thought of me?”

Yes. Not intentionally, but yes.

Your breathing became shaky, his words enough to get you worked up again.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice soft.

“I’m helping you out,” he responded. “Salvaging your night.” He hooked his finger into the tie around your waist, then tugged you even closer to him. “I mean, if you want me to. The offer is there.”

Fuck it. You were tired of fighting your attraction to him. You nodded.

“Okay,” you said. “Let’s just get it over with.” He smiled. “How do we start? Should I lie down? Is there anything off limits? What do I-”

“Don’t think about it,” he said, answering your line of questioning by silencing you. “Get on the bed.” He let go of you so you could walk into your room and follow his orders. You watched him rub his hands together and crack his knuckles as if he was getting ready to go to work - which made sense, all things considered. Then, he followed your footsteps to your bed and made his way towards you until he was settled beside you.

His hand trailed up your body until it settled in your hair. He gripped it tightly so he could angle your head to the side, then leaned over and pressed light kisses to your neck that sent shivers down your spine.

“Do you like things on the gentle side or more rough?” he asked against your skin.

“Healthy mix of both,” you answered. He hummed in approval, then licked a stripe up your neck until his lips were to your ear.

“Talk to me during, okay?” he said. “Tell me what you want.”

Okay, this was officially worth it no matter the consequences.

“I like what you’re doing,” you responded. You felt his mouth return to where it had been before, except this time he found a sensitive spot and sucked on it. You gasped, so he did it again, harder.

“Hickies?” he asked.

“I’d rather not have them, but also please don’t stop,” you muttered. Your eyes fluttered closed as you enjoyed the sensations. His lips were soft but firm, and every point of contact with him felt like it was on fire.

“I can work with that.”

While he continued kissing and nipping at your neck, his hand left your hair to snake down and pull the tie on your robe until it was undone.

You expected him to take your robe off like he was unwrapping a gift - quickly and without precision - but instead he took his time with you. He was slow and deliberate with every action, opening you beneath him little by little and addressing each new exposed part of you before moving on and continuing. He groped at one of your breasts while kissing you, then kissed down your neck and to your other breast. His lips settled on your left nipple while his fingers worked the right one - pinching, sucking, biting, driving you absolutely crazy.

“Fuck,” you moaned. “N-need more.” He released your nipple from his mouth with a pop.

“More what?”

“Everything,” you whined. You would have been embarrassed by how into this you were, but you were too busy enjoying to feel anything other than pleasure. “More. Harder.”

“Mmm,” he said. He adjusted his technique, now grasping at you more intensely. He grabbed the soft skin at your waist and squeezed, then curled around to cradle your lower back. His lips returned to your neck, and this time he bit and sucked so hard you let out a yelp.

“Too much?” he asked, leaning back to gauge the look on your face.

“No,” you responded. “I love it.” He nodded and got back to it, continuing to suck at your pulse point while his knee dipped between your thighs to push them apart. He bent his leg to slowly drag his knee up until it reached your center. It rubbed against you, hard, causing you to let out a gasp.

“Oh, shit,” you said, your voice desperate. “Do that again.” So he did, and then you found yourself grinding against his knee at your own pace. You were definitely going to leave a wet spot on his jeans, but he didn’t seem to care. Your breathing picked up, and you clutched at his hand so you could lead it to the band of your panties. He slid his fingers beneath the fabric and down your slit, spreading you open and exploring the parts of you most slick with desire. He circled your clit while he kissed your collarbone, slipped one finger inside you as he bit at your breast, then added a second finger and rolled them inside you until they found the soft, spongy spot that caused your eyes to roll back in your head. His mouth latched onto your nipple, tongue circling it in time with his thumb down below. You rocked your hips against his hand, needing more pressure. You needed him to fuck you, actually, but he seemed to be in no rush of doing so.

Your stomach tightened as you felt yourself rising for him. He was going to make you come already, when he hadn’t even been touching you for that long.

Suddenly, you were cresting over the edge. It happened so fast you didn’t have time to prepare or warn Eddie, although he seemed to know it was happening before you did.

You gasped and moaned and cried out his name, your vision completely blacked out. Your hips continued to buck and your legs started shaking. Eventually, the waves crashed and you were centered in your body again.

“Okay, wow,” you said breathlessly.

“That was too easy,” he responded. You scoffed.

“Yeah, yeah, you win,” you replied. “You’re just as amazing in bed as you look like you would be-”

“No,” he continued. “I mean - that was too easy, and I like a challenge, so I’m gonna see how many times I can make you do that.”

Within seconds, he was making his way down your body, pulling your underwear off of you, grabbing your ankles, and tugging your body towards him. He laid your legs on either side of his shoulders and dove his head between your thighs, kissing the spot that was still extremely sensitive. It was overstimulating, but felt so good you wouldn’t dare ask him to stop. He ate you out like he was poisoned and you were the antidote. He plunged his tongue into your hole as his hands spread you apart as far as you’d go. He kissed back up to your clit and settled there, teeth latching around it gently. Then, his fingers slid back inside you, and he continued to suck on you, and somehow you were already going to come again. One of your hands found purchase in his hair, and you pulled his head against you even more. The other hand clutched the sheets beside you desperately, crumpling them into a fist as you unraveled against his mouth.

You hadn’t even realized how tightly your thighs were clenching around his head until you released him, but he didn’t move from where he’d been. He continued finger-fucking you and flicking his tongue side to side against your clit all the way through your orgasm and beyond. There was no recovery period or moment of relaxation. It hurt to have him there, a little bit, but not in a bad way. He bit at the fleshy part of your thigh so he had a second to catch his breath, but kept kissing you everywhere he had access and treating your body like it was his most precious belonging.

Because in that moment, you did belong to him.

Your third orgasm immediately followed the second. It was like he was destroying you - breaking down every wall you’d ever put up leaving you an absolute mess underneath him. His motions slowed, ever in tune with your body. It was like he could read your mind.

“Holy shit,” you whispered. He sat up straight and removed his fingers from you, immediately putting them in his mouth to suck them clean. “You’re really good at that.” He grinned, his mouth and chin shining.

“It’s my favorite part,” he replied. “Are you tapping out?”

“No, I -” Your head was spinning, but you absolutely did not want this to stop. “I just need a minute.” He chuckled, wiped his mouth, then pressed a quick kiss to your ankle. He moved your legs off him and back onto the bed, and then he laid down beside you and joined you in staring at the ceiling.

“So,” he said, his hands clasped on his stomach. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” you replied. Your gaze traveled down his stomach to the very noticeable bulge in his jeans. “So, oral really does it for you, huh?” Eddie turned to see your eyes fixed on his crotch. He exhaled sharply - the start of a laugh - then nodded.

“Yeah. I’m good at it and I like it. But, I don’t know whether I’m good at it because I like it or if I like it because I’m good at it.”

“A real chicken versus egg kind of thing,” you said. He laughed.

“Exactly.”

“What else do you like?” you asked.

“Hmm?” He seemed genuinely confused by the question.

“I mean, what else do you like? Not considering your partner’s pleasure, just your own.” He narrowed his eyes.

“Why do you ask?”

“Because we’re about to have sex,” you replied.

“Are we?” he teased. You rolled your eyes.

“Answer me,” you told him. “I want it to be good for you, too.”

“But that wasn’t the deal,” he countered, sitting up. “I’m doing this for you, not me.”

“Why can’t it be both?” He still looked at you as if you weren’t making any sense at all. “Eddie, come on. Just tell me what you like. You’ve never been shy about sex stuff in the past, clearly -”

“I like being bit,” he answered quickly. “Especially on the neck and lips. And, like, the crook of my elbow for some reason?” You nodded, urging him to continue. He sighed, then laid back down beside you. “I like the idea of someone using me just to get off - degradation, treating me like I’m nothing, all that jazz.”

“The idea of it?” you repeated, turning on your side to face him. “You’ve never tried it?”

“Not really,” he responded. “I’m kinda known for the soft-dom thing I have going on, so that’s usually what I end up doing.”

“Hmm.” You thought about his answer in the silence that followed, until he spoke again.

“You know what’s weird?”

“What?”

“Nobody’s really asked me that before.”

You looked at him, completely baffled at the situation. This poor man had only focused on his partners this whole time. No wonder he’d grown jaded to it.

“It’s been a minute,” you said. “I think I’m ready to keep going.”

“Yeah, okay.”

You could visibly see him shift back into work-mode. His eyes lit up and focused in on you again, and his hands went to his belt buckle to unfasten it. You sat up and kneeled on the bed, then helped him take his pants and boxers off and tossed them to the floor. You shimmied your robe off your shoulders and let that fall to the floor as well. He sat up in the bed with his back to the headboard so he could take his shirt off, and now you were both completely naked.

Woah.

You stared at his body, mesmerized by all the ink in his skin. You traced a finger delicately over the tattoos on his chest, shoulders, and forearms. He watched you appreciatively, a soft smile on his face, his expression peaceful. You reached over to your bedside table drawer and grabbed a condom from the box you kept there.

Then, you straddled him.

“Hey, wait -” he said. “Look, I know what you wanna do for me, but it’s probably not gonna happen. Like, I don’t usually come from sex unless I help myself out.”

You kind of saw that in one of the videos. He’d been going with this one woman for like a half hour straight and nothing.

“I want to try,” you told him. He still didn’t look convinced. “Come on, you think only porn stars are good in bed?”

“I just don’t want you to feel bad if -”

You leaned in and kissed him, hungrily, your hands tangling in his hair. Yeah, he’d taken care of you, but you were far from satiated. You wanted him badly, and you wanted to make him feel just as good as he’d made you feel.

You could still taste yourself on his swollen lips, and that’s when you realized the two of you had never actually kissed before. You broke from him, concerned that you’d crossed a line.

“Sorry, I should have asked if kissing is okay first -”

He was kissing you again before you could even get your sentence out. His arms went around your waist, hugging you tightly until your chest was against his. You tugged on his hair, hard, and felt him smirk against your lips.

He was growing impossibly hard beneath you, which only encouraged you to keep going.

You clawed against his back and his mouth opened up for you. You used this as an opportunity to suck his bottom lip into your mouth before biting it.

He whimpered, which was just about the hottest sound you’d ever heard.

Your mouth traveled down his jaw and to his neck, where you gave him the same treatment he’d given you.

“Careful,” he managed to say (though his voice was weak). “I can’t be marked up for work.” You nodded, then grazed your teeth across his skin. He gasped, the grip of his hands tightening on your waist. You kissed him and bit him and sucked him on both sides of his neck, leaving no spot behind and making sure you didn’t stay in one place for too long. Eventually, you felt yourself craving him again - this time, you wanted all of him.

Your hips rocked against his erection, and you knew it was game over the moment his bare cock slid up your folds. You moaned, then reached for the condom beside you so he could put it on. You shifted yourself a bit further down on his lap as he rolled it down his length, and then your eyes caught the tattoo on his thigh that started this whole thing - the witch, in all her glory.

“She’s looking right at it,” you said, your eyes fixed to the design. Eddie huffed out a breathy laugh.

“Yeah, uhh -” he began, flustered. “It’s her - shit, okay - it’s supposed to be a joke where she’s looking at my dick because my dick is a magic wand, but that’s dorky as shit so usually when people ask I just joke that it’s because she’s a voyeur.” You smiled, then shook your head.

“So, why tell me the truth then?” you asked. “What makes me different?” You looked at his blown out pupils, deep brown and infinite, and wondered why you’d spent so much time trying not to look into them. Maybe because now that you’d done it, you weren’t sure you could ever stop.

“I don’t know,” Eddie answered. “I don’t know why you’re different.”

You maintained eye contact as you lifted yourself up and lined his cock with your entrance, and then you slowly let him sink into you.

Oh.

The immediate stretch was incredible. Eddie was well-endowed and thick, and it was going to take a little work to fit him completely inside you. You started slowly, lifting yourself up and down - all the while, your eyes stayed fixed to his.

His hand snaked between you to rub your clit slowly, getting you wetter and allowing you to accommodate his size better. You moaned loudly, unable to stop yourself, then began bouncing at a faster pace.

You kissed his forehead, the sweat on his brow leaving your lips slightly salty. Then, you kissed the spot right next to his eyes, his cheek, his jaw, before finally reaching his lips again.

Hungry. That was the best word to describe it. It felt like the two of you had each never wanted anything more in your lives as much as you wanted each other. He bottomed out inside you, and you began to lift yourself up and crash back down, slowly, but with force.

“Faster,” he muttered. “Please, faster.” His voice was breathy and weak. A part of you wanted to tease him more - you wanted to drive him crazy and then watch him explode, just as he’d done to you. But the other part of you wanted exactly what he wanted, so you obliged.

You started to ride him faster, rolling your hips in such a way where he was hitting the spot inside you that made you scream his name and pull his hair without abandon. He continued to work your clit until - somehow - you felt yourself building up to yet another orgasm.

“Fuck,” you whined, continuing to fuck him exactly as you’d been doing. “I’m gonna come again.”

He whimpered your name, and then his words became incomprehensible. But you wouldn’t have been able to hear them anyway, because pretty soon you were coming so hard you were transported through space and time. Seriously, the feeling was unlike anything you’d ever experienced before. He was taking up all the space in your body and your mind.

“You’re so good, Eddie,” you said. Your words were muffled against his mouth, but you knew he understood them. “So fucking good.”

Your motions slowed down, and you started to make your way back to the room. He was staring at you, his eyes no longer piercing. They were soft and vulnerable instead.

“I’m sorry I didn’t -”

“That one was for me,” you interrupted. “This next one's for you.”

“What-?”

Your lips crashed into his again. You’d gotten your fill - more than your fill, actually - and now you just had one goal.

Make Eddie Munson come.

Easy enough, you figured. He’d given you more than enough clues to tell you how. With his dick still deep inside you, you kissed down his neck to his shoulder, then lifted his arm so you could make your way to the crook of his elbow. You sucked at the tender, sensitive skin. His eyes widened.

“Oh, fuck,” he said. You smirked, then dropped his arm and promptly fucked him as fast and rough as you possibly could.

Eddie threw his head back in ecstasy, groaning and grunting and continuing to talk under his breath - only this time you were able to understand some of it.

“Holy fucking shit…Jesus Christ…Just like that…”

Most of it was curse words.

His fingers dug into your ass as he guided your hips exactly the way he needed them to go, and then all of a sudden he was twitching beneath you, his hands flexing, his jaw dropped. He desperately pressed open-mouthed kisses against your collarbone and breasts, holding you flush to him as you milked him for all he was worth.

His breathing slowed, his face still buried in your tits. Finally, he leaned back so he could look up at you. You smiled and waited for him to say something, but he didn’t. He just kissed you instead - this time lightly and without urgency behind it.

You let him slip out of you, then collapsed beside him, completely blissed out. He stayed seated and upright, although he did take the condom off and dropped it in the trash next to the bed. His eyes had turned pensive, his eyebrows furrowed with worry.

“Everything okay?” you asked.

“No,” he replied, staring straight ahead.

“What’s wrong?” He shrugged.

“I can’t tell you how long it’s been since I felt like that.” You cocked your head in confusion.

“And that’s a problem?” you wondered. You maybe would have freaked out had you not just had four orgasms - Instead, you were just concerned.

“I don’t know.”

His head turned until you could see his expression fully, and you noticed there was a hint of a smile on his face.

“Um, is there anything I can do to help?” you asked.

“Yeah.” He grabbed your hand and took a deep breath. “You wanna go on a date with me?”

(Part 2)

-------------------

Feel free to make requests in the comments, through DM, or using my taglist! In the meantime, check out my the masterlist on my main account where I post non-smut content :)

@welc0me-t0-hellfire @nope-thanks @names-were-taken @teary-eyed-egg @mvnsonluver @msgexymunson @micheledawn1975 @mimsthebannished @joantje @mrsjellymunson @oh-my-grace @libbyhermione @agrownupgeekgirl @vintagehellfire @spikedhe4rt @stardustingold @bebe07011 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @tlclick73 @astridflowers @whisteriaremembers @martaboj92 @the-side-blog777 @demeterlindavis @starheartseddie

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x fem!reader

2K notes · View notes

acourtofwhatthefuck · 5 months

Text

Practice On Me — Part Fourteen — Azriel x Reader

Summary: Reader is readying herself for the ball. Hot Daddy Fin™️ opens up to her a little and shares some worrying truths (and then some). Azriel and Reader reunite, body and soul.

Word Count: 8.2k

Warnings: Adult content, 18+, NSFW, minors dni.

Tried my best with this part but sorry if it's a bit iffy! This girlie is ill as FUCK. Still hope you enjoy, tho, loves!

“You know, I have to admit, I was dubious at first.”

Mor is knelt at your feet, and you think this might be the closest you ever come to having a goddess on her knees before you. A strange part of you wants her to snap out and sink her teeth into your thigh, leave a bright red mark on the skin — but alas, her attention is fully on the hem of your gown.

“My uncle, love him though I do, is a calculated bastard.” She pushes to her feet, straightening out the fabric. “But I think he actually enjoys your company.”

“He does.” Roza pitches in from her place on the couch. “I know Fin. Y/N has him eating out of the palm of her hand.”

Though she smiles, her tone is laced with clear concern. Not because she cares about Fin, but because she cares about you. Doesn’t want you to forget that this is the High Lord of the Night Court you’re meddling with.

“Males are vapid and predictable, every last one of them.” You shrug your tense shoulders. “Throw them a few pretty smiles and they’ll do anything for you.”

Mor steps back, a low whistle leaving her. “Forget the males. I’ll do anything for you.”

Her eyes rake over your gown. So do Roza’s. And you…you want to crawl out of your skin and hide.

You’ve never owned a beautiful gown like this, never been able to afford one. The couple of dresses you do keep amongst your clothes are plain ones that just about do for special occasions. What hangs off your body now is…a work of art.

Almost feels like sacrilege for the beautiful fabric to touch your marred skin.

It’s sheer, showing off more than you’ve ever before dared to, and yet there’s a modesty, an elegance, to the many whorls and swirls made up entirely of little blue jewels and pearls and beads. It gives the gown a weight that makes it cling to you, and it outlines a body that…that quite frankly, you’d never considered beautiful until this very moment.

A body that commands the garment, and not the other way round. That makes you feel like far more than just another mistreated, unfavoured Illyrian female that will one day be lost to history.

This gown makes you think: I do not need the wings I have spent my life longing for.

It makes you think: There is nothing more beautiful than a good spirit and soul, and I have both.

It makes you think: Never again will anyone — friend or family or foe — make you feel less than worthy. Less than deserving. Less than strong.

You have always had strength. And this dress somehow amplifies it. Will amplify it to a room full of people who will see, through that sheer fabric, your scars, your lack of wings, and they may pity you, or not pity you at all, or may even laugh.

But you will still be beautiful.

Movement has you realising that tears have blurred your eyes. You swipe them away, and Mor is smiling at you, and Roza looks like she’s a little choked up, too.

“You are so godsdamned gorgeous.” Mor says earnestly. “Every last inch of you.”

Indeed, you glance over your shoulder at the mirror behind you, your gaze immediately finding your scars sitting brutal and undeniable beneath the sheer fabric. You don’t hurriedly force your gaze away like you have done your whole life, don’t try to avoid them.

You just…look. Look at what has been a part of you for so long, now.

“…Mor?” Roza says quietly. “Can you…give Y/N and I a moment?”

“Of course.” Mor agrees. “Time for me to find a snack.”

The stunning blonde squeezes your hand as she strolls past, and as she leaves the room, the door is pulled shut behind her.

Roza rises from her seat, making her way over to you. And as she stops before you, her hands move up to cup your face.

“Did you know,” she murmurs, “that I’ve always thought you were one of the prettiest females in all of Windhaven?” A soft scoff leaves you, but before you can glance down, she’s holding your face firmly. “I mean that — even when Azriel brought you to the cottage that very first time, and you were covered in dirt and mud, your hair all knotted, a leaf or two in there — you thanked me for feeding you, and you gave me a smile that was just like…sunshine. Such a rare thing in Windhaven. I remember thinking, this girl deserves to smile like that, always.”

A single tear spills down your cheek, and Roza wipes it away. She definitely looks like she might start bawling, too — a rare thing for her.

“I know you were never given much of a chance to feel worthy.” She whispers. “Your mother abandoning you…your father taking your wings…they were the two people who were supposed to love you more than anyone, and they broke you and left you broken.”

“You put me back together.” A lump in your throat fractures your words. “You and Rhys and Azriel and Cassian. Your love—”

“My little dove, you put yourself back together. We just loved you through it. I just want you to know that…I just want you to remember, the next time you feel worthless, that you are beautiful, and you have always been beautiful. You’re strong, and spirited, and determined. You have a resolve like no other I have ever seen, and you can do anything — which is why I know you will achieve whatever it is you’re planning with Fin.”

Only then does your gaze drop. “I only wish to appeal myself to him enough that he’ll value my opinion — that this Fenlaros business cannot go ahead. But I still feel awful…he’s your mate.”

“Gods, in the loosest definition, Y/N.” Her hands move to yours, then, liking them together. “Believe me when I say that if it weren’t for my children, I’d never see that male again. I think you know that I do not hold him in high regard.”

“I do know. But I respect you and care about you more than anyone in the world. And if you feel even a shred of discomfort about what I’m doing, I’ll stop. I’ll find another way—”

“The only discomfort I feel,” she squeezes your hands gently, “is at the thought of any harm coming to you. But I’ll feel that way through everything you do in life, because I love you. I also feel awe, because you’re brave and brilliant, and you’re doing what’s right. What I will teach this little girl,” she places your hands on her swollen belly, “to do — to stand up against what is wrong, and do so without a lick of shame.”

“I’ll protect her with my life, you know — the babe. I’ll love her unconditionally.”

“And she will love you, my dove, just as I do. So,” she steps back, eyes your dress again. A smile curves her lips. “Do whatever it is you have to do, Y/N, to change Fin’s mind — you have my full support. I only ask three things of you.”

Your expression softens. Anything — you’d do anything for her. “Of course, Roz.”

“First, don’t get caught with your scheming.” She says. “And second — you may feel like murdering Fin. Gods, believe me, I get it. But please do refrain. He’s my children’s father, after all, and Rhys isn’t ready to be High Lord just yet.”

You breathe a laugh, dipping your chin. “No murder. Got it. And the third thing?”

Roza steps up to you, her fingers finding the beautiful, jewelled material that clings to you like a second skin. She smiles.

“Go to that ball,” her fierce eyes meet yours, “and show everybody there that your father didn’t take one bit of beauty away from you.”

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

You pace the length of your room. Back and forth, back and forth. You’re restless tonight.

Day after day is swept behind you like the snow that blankets the mountains. Time is a racing thing. Starfall is fast approaching, and thus, so is the ball. But you still feel as though you can’t get a good read on Fin’s thoughts.

No matter how many dinners you share with him, how many walks through the city streets you take together, the shows you watch in the Rainbow…he does not offer you the candidness with which he spoke through that very first conversation in his study. Any attempts to talk about Tathaln, about Fenlaros, are promptly diverted. He wants to talk about you — wants to know you.

It feels like the opportunity to stop this shit show in its tracks is slipping through your fingers, and you can’t grab hold of it, pull it back.

So instead of sleeping, you think, and you pace, and you—

Gods, you just want to see Azriel.

How much space, you wonder, is enough space? You have respected his needs, have kept to Velaris, given him time to confront his innermost thoughts and feelings. But you don’t know how long he needs, and right now…right now, all you want is to see him. Look into his eyes. Hear that soft, quiet voice telling you that everything will be okay.

You need to know if he’s made a decision about Fenlaros. You’ve tried not to think about it, not to dwell on the possibility that he could choose to run from his feelings over embracing them. But the longer the silence stretches on…the more you find that hole in your heart gaping, threatening to swallow you whole.

You pace more and more, up and down in time to the ticking of the clock. It’s a wonder you haven’t worn a track through the carpet. You don’t know why you’re suddenly so antsy, but perhaps if you could just talk to Az, some of your worries could be allayed—

Before your thoughts can catch up with your body, you’re tearing through the drawers in the desk, scrambling for paper, a pen. Practically throw yourself into the chair. A letter — a letter will do the trick—

But you don’t know what to write.

You stare at the blank parchment like the words will simply appear by your willing. They don’t.

A love letter? No, no, not a love letter. Just a letter to…to remind him that you are still here. That you are reason to stay in Windhaven, and you think you could be reason enough.

Azriel… you picture him as you crawl his name. His honey-golden eyes and his silken hair. The sharp bone structure that could slice through paper, the full lips. The memory of how those lips feel is fading, and you want — need — it back. Your pen pauses, hovers at the parchment, and those lips are all you can think of, the urgency with which you crave them.

Azriel, you write again, I want to see you. I need you, too—

A soft knock lands on the door, and the pen clatters against the desk where you drop it.

The clock has just timed three in the morning — the knock is an unexpected obtrusion in the dead of night. One that makes you anxious.

But a second knock comes, and you shove the parchment and pen back into the drawer, scrambling to your feet. Perhaps it’s Roza — the more the pregnancy progresses, it’s not unusual for her to wake up in the night with need for something. You hurry over and tug it open.

Fin stands on the other side, looking…unkempt. His hair is mussed, like he’s been dragging his fingers through it. The first few buttons on his shirt have been undone, and a glimpse of a fine, chiselled chest peeks out. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. He looks as though he hasn’t been to bed.

He drinks in the sight of you in your nightgown, bathed in the room’s glow. He swallows. “Forgive me, I…I saw your light on. Thought you might be having trouble sleeping again.”

You incline your head. “I was.” You admit. “…And you?”

“Too much in my head to even attempt it.”

You’re not sure what to reply with, how to help. Fin watches you closely like…like he needs to. Like gazing at you brings him comfort.

You are treading a very, very dangerous path. But you shift on your feet and ask him, “Would you like to come in?”

A tiny nudge of a smile pulls one side of his mouth up. “I was actually wondering if you’d allow me to take you somewhere.”

Your eyes widen a little. The surprise isn’t for show, and it seems to please him. “Right now?”

“The City of Starlight doesn’t sleep. Ever.”

A fact you’ve learned all too well during your stay here. There’s always some sort of activity, something going on that sends a constant pulsing through the city streets. For some reason, you hadn’t imagined Fin to be a participant in the night life.

“It’s somewhere I go when I can’t sleep.” He explains, as though you’ve spoken your thoughts loud and clear. “I think you’d like it. And from one insomniac to another, I…I would be honoured to share it with you.”

How can you possibly say no to that? For all Fin is mysterious, for all he keeps his cards tightly pressed against his chest, you truly believe that he finds a strange sort of solidarity in this one affliction that burdens you both. You may have wildly different reasons for pacing your room at night — and you’re not sure he’ll ever tell you his — but when the world is too quiet and thoughts are too loud…there’s comfort in knowing that somebody else is staring down those early hours, also.

It almost makes him seem…normal.

And perhaps that’s why you offer him a dazzling smile that isn’t entirely disingenuous. “From one insomniac to another,” you say, “I’d love to come with you.

The way his eyes light up makes you wonder if you’ve played your role, appealed yourself to him, a little too well. “Then I’ll wait here while you get dressed.”

You incline your head. “I’ll just be a moment.”

He waits patiently as you change from your nightgown into warm clothes that will shield you from the freezing night air. With no indication of where you might be going, a sweater and breeches and boots seems like the safest bet. You sweep your hair out of your face and shrug the weariness from your bones. When you emerge from the room, Fin’s gaze traces you like you’ve donned an evening gown and not the thickest layers you could fine.

“I find you so very intriguing.” He comments unexpectedly, and you’re not sure what he means.

You plaster a smile on your face, all the same. “Where are we going, Lord of the Night?”

Heat stokes his hickory eyes, and he looks as though he’s actually trying to tamp down on a broad smile. “It’s a surprise.”

You hold a hand out. He takes it. “Then surprise me.”

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

“Tilt your head up.” The instruction comes from close behind you. Near enough that a warm breath tickles the back of your neck. You dutifully obey. “Now, open your eyes.”

Your eyelids flutter open slowly, cautiously. What you’re met with has your next breath catching in your throat.

A dome of starlight arcs high above you. The twinkling jewels in the sky feel almost close enough to reach out and touch, and they shine brilliantly through the glass roof, an occasional transient one cartwheeling its way past in pursuit of another place.

You can only stare. Gape. Your feet move forward a couple of steps, but your face remains tilted upwards.

You were in this building only a couple of evenings before, but it had been so packed, then, so filled with music and chatter and laughter and activity, that you hadn’t noticed what sat above your head. You’d been far too enamoured with the performers, their poetic verses and fluid dances, the tragic climax that had brought you to tears.

Now, the largest theatre in Velaris’s rainbow is empty and bathed in darkness, broken only by silvery moonlight. You and Fin are the only two here. And standing on the gargantuan stage, a mass of empty, folded seats staring back at you, you have the perfect view of the night sky that gives a performance all of its own above you.

There are soft footsteps, and Fin is also stepping forward, stopping at your side. “In over nine centuries, I’ve never tired of that sight,”

You shake your head, a little dazed. You’re lost for words. “I can see why.”

“There is so much unexpected, so much chaos and burden, in being High Lord. But no matter what I may face, what choices I make, and what reactions they receive…there will always be the night sky and its stars.”

Only then do you remove your gaze from the domed glass ceiling — to drink him in and wonder how many layers deep his true heart lies. This male who is as cunning and cruel as he is handsome and charming. How many dimensions does he have that you’ve never stopped to consider?

“I know it doesn’t exactly support the imagine of a calculated High Lord who shouldn’t be crossed.” Fin says, staring had at the surface of the stage whilst a wry smile graces his lips. “Sneaking off to an empty theatre in the dead of night when sleep evades me. But I find…peace here.”

You eye the ginormous building around you, dipped in shimmering moonlight and the shadows of twinkling stars. All those empty seats, the vacant orchestra pit, the stage that has trapped so many beautiful voices and words, guided so many dances and echoed so much beautiful music. There’s a haunting loneliness to the desolation. And you can’t help wondering if…if Fin relates to that, somehow.

When you snap out of your thoughts, you find he’s moved again. Now, he sits on the very edge of the stage, legs hanging down and palms bracing him. He stares out at the rows and rows of red velvet seats, not one of them disturbed by a spectator.

You’re moving before you tell yourself to. Sitting at his side and tucking your legs beneath you. You spend a short time in still silence, but the heaviness of the High Lord’s thoughts seems to spread to every corner of the building.

“When you brought me here the other night,” you angle yourself towards him, “it was my first time in a theatre — ever. I never saw a show before.”

A very slight frown pinches Fin’s features. He seems to consider that. “One of my flaws, Y/N, I have to admit, is that I often forget that there’s a world outside of my privilege. That people lack where I never will.” He tugs his bottom lip between his teeth. “Roza was right to take Rhysand to Windhaven. He’s grown with a humility that I very much do not have.”

You snort softly. “I spend a lot of time with your son, My Lord. I assure you he’s just as capable of arrogance. I’ve kicked his ass a good few times because of it.”

A quiet laugh rasps from him. “Somehow, I don’t doubt that.” He pauses, and then his elbow is gently nudging you. “I told you, anyway — it’s Fin. I consider us to be friends. Don’t you?”

In some ways, you really do. Ans what a lying, using, devious little friend you are.

Especially as you scoot closer to him. And you’re softening your features and staring openly at him.

You don’t miss the way his gaze falls to your lips.

“I do.” You say, and he lifts his eyes to yours again. “And as your friend, I’d like to know what weighs so heavily on your mind tonight.”

His mile falters. And you don’t want to lose him, to let the moment slip away from you. You quickly grab his hand before he can tense up.

“I want you to talk to me…” You make your voice soft as butter, sweet as honey. “I like talking to you, Fin.”

There’s a beat. A tense one. And then his body is loosening, relaxing, his eyes becoming infinitely warmer.

His hand wraps around yours, the pad of his thumb tracing your nail. “I like talking to you, too.” He admits, and pauses again. “…War is…a great likelihood, Y/N.”

It’s your turn to go still, then, to tense up. Icy cold surprise bolts through you. That…isn’t what you were expecting.

“War?” You breathe, your mind already conjuring images of your friends on a battlefield. “With whom? When?”

“I do not know when. It could be in a year’s time; it could be in a decade. That all depends on how long it takes for humans to rise up and rally against our kind.”

“Humans?”

“There has been more and more pushback, in recent years, from humans. Humans who are enslaved by our kind and are sick of it. More and more of them are beginning to stand up against it, to protest how they’re forced to live. They’re willing to go to war over it. I don’t know when or where, but they will. In years to come, they will.”

“As they should.” You sit up straight. Perhaps it’s the wrong thing to say, but you don’t care. “They should revolt. I think it’s barbarous, the way our kind treat them. Their purpose is not to serve us. They have just as much right to live freely as we do.”

You mean it, mean it with your whole heart. You know what it’s like to be used for somebody’s personal gain, what it’s like to have freedom always lurking just out of reach. And you’ve heard about the treatment of enslaved humans. Most would rather die that live under the cruelty of their fae masters. That the practice hasn’t been outlawed utterly sickens you.

Fin says nothing for a while. His hand continues to hold yours. His eyes drink you down with a muted intensity. Like this is the first time he’s ever really taken you in.

“I agree.” He murmurs, much to your surprise. “And when war comes — and it will, and I’m preparing for it — when war comes, I will fight alongside the humans. To liberate them.”

You look at him, then — a male who has lived for almost a millennia, but doesn’t look a day over forty. Who is so universally feared, who carries a reputation for things you can’t even bear to consider. You will not fool yourself into believing that the darkness hides an inner light, or that the cruelty is a front. He is not soft and he is not kind.

But perhaps he’s not totally bad, either. That he would put himself in the firing line for the liberation of innocent humans…it has to speak somewhat to his character.

It almost makes you regret your scheming, your manipulating.

Before you can muster a response, the High Lord is leaning closer. Your body tenses as his face stops inches away from yours.

“You need not be afraid of me, Y/N.” He whispers. “I find you…magnificent. I like that you don’t filter yourself in front of me, that you’re not afraid to speak your true thoughts and feelings. You…you are an asset. Worth so much more than you’ve ever been given credit for.”

Your gaze dips, cheeks burning at the compliment. “I don’t know about that—”

“I mean it.” His finger hooks under your chin, soothing the skin there. “Magnificent.” He repeats, and he’s leaning in closer, closer, until his lips are coasting your flushed cheek. The kiss he presses there is cold in contrast, but you have no chance to react as his mouth brushes its way to the shell of your ear and lingers there. “Absolutely brilliant. And do you know what?”

“…What?”

“After the ball is over,” his breath tickles your ear, “I’m going to bring you back here, to this stage. And those stars above our heads will watch as I strip you bare and fuck you hard enough to shake the building.”

It takes every morsel of your resolve not to start at the words. You release a shaky breath — one that makes you seem eager, responsive. It’s convincing enough that you don’t think you’d be out of place up here on this stage.

Thankfully, you don’t have to drag words from your spinning thoughts. Fin lets go, and he pulls back, rising to his feet.

“But until then,” he holds a hand out for you, “there is much to be done. Starting with you and I getting a good night’s sleep.”

You wear a mild smile as you allow him to pull you up. “A girl can dream.”

“And so can a High Lord.”

You don’t say much else to each other as he tugs you close and spirits you back to his palace. You are both pensive, and you are both tired.

But when he bids you goodnight outside your bedroom and strolls off to his own, sleep seems further away than ever. You’re thinking too much at once. Humans. War. Fin. Azriel.

You still desperately want to see Az, talk to him.

You dig back into the drawer, meaning to retrieve the letter you’d started to write.

But your hand merely knocks against wood, and the letter is gone.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

You’re tempted — to write another letter, or note, or…whatever. You don’t even know what became of the first, unfinished one, whether it made its way to Azriel or not.

But days pass, and you…you begin to lose your nerve a little. Perhaps it’s better to live in ignorance for as long as possible than know, either way, what Azriel is thinking. Choosing. Can’t help feeling that the more time pedals on without a word…the worse the outcome will be.

Distractions help. But tonight, it would seem, there are none. And it’s strange, because everything around you is bathed in luxury, in excellence, but you find yourself missing the stripped back simplicity of Windhaven. The crumbling cottages, the mead hall, the rough-and-tumble way of life. There’s always something happening in that harrowing place, something to keep you occupied. As you stare down an evening in a huge, mostly empty palace, you’re actually struck by your longing for it. Both Roza and Fin are busy. Mor is away. Only the mountains and the distant sounds of the city are your companions tonight.

And once again, your thoughts take you to Azriel.

You think maybe this need for him is getting out of hand. And maybe it’s just the sugar-sweet things that Fin has been speaking into your ear, the knowledge that deep down, there’s only one person you want to make such promises to you—

No. It’s not just that. Not just a pathetic influence of suggestive words. It’s a need.

You need Azriel.

Your closest friend. Your safety blanket. The male who saved you and brought you into the fold of a loving, supportive unit. You stared down awkward adolescence together, faced such trying times by each other’s sides.

And you need him.

Your heart, your body, your skin, is hot and heavy with it. Restless. Like the craving is pulling you apart from the inside.

You need to do something, anything, to occupy yourself; take a late-night stroll, read a book. Anything to stop you from staring at the ceiling and being eaten alive by the fire that scorches your veins.

You’re so desperate to get moving that you don’t bother to grab a jacket — just shove your feet into your shoes. A spring mildness has blanketed the city, anyway. You’ll be fine. You just need to move—

But you yank your bedroom door open, and Azriel is on the other side.

His beauty punches you straight in the gut.

He’s a vision, stood there in casual clothing, a note — your note — clutched in his hand. He takes in the sight of you just as hurriedly.

“What are you doing here,” you breathe.

He opens his mouth. Closes it. His eyes rove you again, and he swallows. “I got your note.” He answers. “I wanted to see you, too, and…the High Lord summoned Rhys, Cass and I here…to warn us to be on our best behaviour at the ball.”

You can’t say anything. Can’t speak. You just gawk like a godsdamned fool.

A strange concoction of a frown and a laugh comes from Az. “I…snuck away after…to come here—”

Before you even know what you’re doing, your hand is bunching in the front of Azriel’s shirt, and you’re dragging him into the room with all your strength. He looks bewildered as you shove the door shut behind him.

“Az, have you lost your mind?” You round on him. “If Fin knew you’d come to my room—”

“He isn’t here.” He cuts you off. “Cass went straight back to Windhaven, and Rhys knew I wanted to see you, so…he’s currently having quality family time with Roza and his father in the city.”

There’s a lot to unpack. But all your mind wants to zero in on is that one little sentence — Rhys knew I wanted to see you.

Pathetic, how your entire stomach flips.

“…You call him Fin?”

It takes a moment for your mind to catch up enough to understand Azriel’s question.

“We’ve been living under the same roof.” You shrug slowly. “I…guess he got tired of me using his title.”

Az stares at you, assessing. You’re not sure what he’s looking for, but you fidget under the intensity of his gaze.

“What is it?” You ask him.

“I’m worried about you. I know he’s taking you to the ball. I don’t want you playing his games.”

You purse your lips. “…That why you snuck here to my room, Az? To give me a warning—”

“I came here because you said you wanted to see me, and I want to see you, too.”

So open — for him. So straightforward that for a beat, you’re not sure how to react.

But then you’re moving, and so is he, and your bodies slam together in a tight, long-awaited embrace. Feeling his arms wrap around you is…everything. Everything you’ve missed and longed for. Everything you will ever long for. Whatever happens…Azriel is the only thing you’ll need, when all is said and done.

And that’s why you’re suddenly crying, clinging to him.

On instinct, Azriel’s arms tighten around you. He moves a hand up to cradle the back of your head, and he whispers, “Y/N…”

“Please don’t leave Windhaven.” The words choke out of you. “Please, Az, just…don’t go to Fenlaros. Please—”

“Y/N. Look at me.”

Tears and all, you do. You remain as close to him as you possibly can as you lift your head to meet his eyes.

You don’t know how you know, but you do — from that one, heavy stare, you can tell that things have changed. That he has changed. He looks like the same, stunning male that you’ve always admired, but something else sits on his face.

Emotion.

Determination.

Fire.

He opens his mouth. Takes a slow, shuddering breath that you feel through every inch of your body. And then he says, with utter clarity, “I’m not going anywhere.”

You almost break all over again. But he keeps talking, keeps sharing.

“I love you. No — I’m in love with you. I love you more than I can put into words. I want you and only you, and I’m not leaving you. The only reason I would ever walk out of that camp is if you were by my side, and we were leaving together.”

You are…weightless. Boneless. Held up only by Azriel’s arms. A tear rolls down your cheek, and you allow it to fall to the carpet.

“My handling of my feelings,” Az stares down at you, “has been one huge fuck up. I loved you long before you offer to let me practice intimacy on you. Experiencing those things with you…the things you made me feel…only brought those feelings to the surface. And instead of facing them as I should have done, I hid behind Kaeda to avoid them. But it was never about Kaeda. It was always you. It will always be you. And I’m scared, Y/N, I’m fucking terrified. But I’m done running. Done hiding.”

Silence sweeps into the room on swift wings, and you are suddenly incapable of thought, and of somehow turning it into words. Without Azriel’s voice to distract you, you’re aware of the tremors that wrack through his body. As though this is the scariest thing in the world to him, and he’s trying to hold strong against it.

It probably is.

He studies you closely. Croaks out, “Please say something.”

And perhaps it’s giving him the wrong impression entirely, but you’re stepping out of his arms and putting space between you. You just…need to gather your thoughts. To remember how to speak.

“I…” You blink. “I handled it badly, too.”

“It doesn’t matter—”

“I made selfish choices. I…I acted out of jealousy because I wanted you, but you and Kaeda were…”

He shakes his head resolutely. “What I told you before was true. I never touched Kaeda like that. Even before I found out about all that Fenlaros shit, I think I knew that I wouldn’t. That I couldn’t.”

A fact that breaks your heart. Your eyes fill with tears again. “But I still did. Cass and I—”

“Cassian was there for you when I should have been, and I had no right — none — to react the way that I did. If anyone did anything wrong that night, it was me. But what you and Cass did…it does not matter. Not one bit.”

You’re pivoting on the spot, turning your back to him, before you can crumble entirely. He really means it. Really does not hate you for the choice you made, even though it hurt him.

“Y/N,” Az’s voice shakes behind you. “Please…look at me.”

Now you’re confronted with the situation, part of you wants to run — to hide.

But Az is being open. Honest. No matter how hard, how terrifying it is for him…he’s here. He’s trying.

And so you’ll try, too. And you think you might be shaking just as much as he is as you turn back to him.

The two of you stare at each other. Feel the situation out with your gazes alone.

Azriel is the one to break the extended silence.

“You said you need me.” He eyes you. He’s visibly trembling all over, and it has nothing to do with the chill in the room. Trembling like he’s trying to hold himself together against the weight of the situation.

“…Yes.” You swallow. “I do, Az…I think I’ve always needed you.”

“So show me.”

You pause. Blink, your eyes blown wide. “What?”

“Show me how you need me.” He steps closer, and though he’s shaking, he outreaches a hand and find yours. “Show me how to give you what you need.”

Your fingers brush his, and you’re forcing a lump down your throat. Drinking him in. He…he’s exquisite. “You mean…”

“I mean,” the gap is closed between your bodies, and his heat is reaching you, “I don’t want to practice. I want it all…everything…with you. I want you to take me. Only you—”

You’re surging forward with so much pent-up need that when your lips collide with Azriel’s, it almost knocks you both to the floor.

But Azriel’s arms are banding around you, and he’s a pillar against you, kissing you back with just as much heat.

You don’t know which of you makes what move. Your hands are all over him, and his are all over you, and he’s walking you backwards and groaning as the kiss deepens.

You find the hem of his tunic, dip your hands under, fingertips skating warm skin that shudders beneath your touch. “Can I take this off?” You murmur, and he swallows your words greedily.

“All of it — take it all.”

And so you do. There is no method to it. You’re a woman starved and crazed as you tear at his clothing, not caring about where it ends up, so long as it’s no longer on him. More and more tan skin is exposed, more muscles, more scars. And when he kicks out of his boots and breeches and his underwear is the only remaining barrier, you’re reaching for him, for the hardness that’s pushing through the dark grey fabric and taunting you.

But Azriel reaches out an arm to gently stop you. His hand brushes your cheek, and his eyes are pure hunger as he says, “Your turn.”

And it hits you just then that up in until this point, Azriel has never seen you naked — in this capacity, anyway. There have been plenty of non-sexual circumstances over the years in which you’ve gotten a glimpse of each other, but not like this. Even when he began practicing on you, you never took your clothes off.

And you’re fucking nervous. Even more so under the press of his gaze. He looks like he may combust as you slowly move your hands to your shirt and tug the front laces loose. You pull the hem out from where it was tucked into your breeches.

The fabric parts enough that it more or less slides off you and pools on the floor. You do not meet the heavy stare that watches you so closely. You may lose your nerve if you do.

But when the last few items of clothing are off and kicked away from you, and you’re left entirely bare, you hear a sharp intake of breath. Curiosity gets the better of you. You lift your gaze and resist the urge to fold your arms over your chest.

Azriel is staring at you like…like nobody ever has before.

Like you are the rare rays of sunlight that break through the grey landscape of Windhaven. Like the world around you was forged from your own two hands.

Like you’re beautiful, and worthy, and unruined.

“…What is it?” You clear your throat, shifting on the spot.

Azriel shakes out of a daze and takes a single step closer to you. “You are…” His throat bobs, “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

You almost laugh. Almost. But something stops you.

The sincerity in his tone, his eyes. The realisation that he truly means that.

Your eyes travel from his face, down his sculpted chest and stomach. The firm, toned legs and what sits beneath him. You’ve seen plenty of his body naked. But…not all at once.

You think the air might be punched from your lungs.

He’s hard as a rock — from looking at you. The tip of his cock is already leaking moisture. His wings flare proudly at his back.

“So beautiful.” He cups your jaw, guiding your eyes back up to his.

There’s nothing else you can say, in that moment, than the words that tumble from your lips.

“I love you,” you whisper.

Emotion crosses his face, and both hands are gripping your cheeks. He kisses you deeply; so deeply that it steals your breath.

And then he pulls away, and he’s repeating his earlier words, his forehead pressed to yours. “Show me — show me what you need. No games, just…you and me.”

No games, indeed. You cannot wait any longer.

You rise on the tips of your toes and claim his mouth with yours, and you’re guiding him back, back, until his legs are hitting the bed and he’s gladly falling onto it. He sprawls out, watching as you climb over him. As your hand caresses his stomach and moves down.

And when your fingertips brush the head of his cock, a deep, delicious noises rumbles in his throat.

You mop the moisture up with your palm, using it to slick the length of him and slide your hand up and down. He hisses between his teeth, hips jerking, hands bunching within the covers on your bed.

“No games,” he repeats through gritted teeth. “This is about both of us.”

And you know that, and you’re not patient enough, anyway, for foreplay right now.

It dawns on you that there will plenty of time for that.

He is not leaving Windhaven — not leaving you.

You will have experiences together beyond this one night.

And with that very fact warming your heart and making it set to burst, you place your legs either side of his body and stare down at him. His cock brushes against your centre, and he can feel how wet you already are for him. His eyes travel down.

You watch, and you ask him, quietly, “You’re sure about this?”

His gaze flicks up immediately. “I’ve never been surer about anything in my life.” He reaches out a trembling hand and brushes a strand of hair out of your face. “That doesn’t mean I’m not nervous — gods, I really fucking am. So scared. I just…want to do it right. To be good for you.”

The sentiment almost brings tears to your eyes. “You couldn’t do it wrong if you tried, Az. Do you trust me?”

“With my whole heart.” He sits up a little — angles himself closer to you. “And I love you with my whole heart, too.”

And that’s all either of you need, isn’t it? Love and trust. The need that exits between you. Everything that is just…yours and Azriel’s relationship in its entirety.

Your eyes remain locked with his as you gently reach down and position his cock at your entrance. He breathes shakily. Doesn’t look away from you once.

Not as you slide down onto him just a little. You pause at the first feel of your walls stretching to accommodate him. A pleasured frown furrows his brow. A moment passes, two, and then you slide down further.

More and more. Sinking onto him. Pausing. Adjusting. With every inch of his huge length that disappears inside you, you feel like every one of your nerve endings is struck by lightning. Azriel’s head lolls back, and he makes a soft noise.

“You’re okay?” You check, hovering over him.

“You feel—” He chokes on his words. “Fuck.”

It’s the encouragement you need to sink the rest of the way onto him. The last few inches slide into you quick, thanks to the slickness that soaks your folds, and then he’s pushed into the hilt and hitting a spot so deep inside you that you can’t stifle the noise that breaks from your throat.

“Did I hurt you?” Azriel gasps, and you can only shake your head. He seems to study your face for confirmation, before he’s pushing up to kiss you.

And you kiss him back. For a moment, that’s all either of you do.

But when he’s losing himself in your mouth, his tongue dancing around yours, seemingly distracted by your kiss…only then do you lift your hips and sink down onto him again. And then you’re falling into a slow, steady rhythm.

Azriel is gasping again, his mouth moving from yours to press kisses to your jaw, your neck, your collarbones — your breasts. As you rock slowly against him, the walls of your pussy squeezing him, coaxing him, he buries his face into your chest and explores you, lips and tongue paying attention to your nipples, teeth grazing with a gentleness that’s almost heartbreaking.

“So beautiful.” He whispers, and the hands that are sitting on your hips travel up your back — up to the scars that live in the place of your stolen wings. “Gods, Y/N, you’re everything.”

You moan, rocking harder on him and wrapping your arms around his neck. You just…want to hold him to you, to feel him against you. It’s like it all comes crashing down on you that he very easily could have left.

But he didn’t. He won’t. He is here and so are you. He is yours and you are his.

“Talk to me,” you breathe, raking your nails down his arms. “Tell me how you feel.”

“So good — feels so good with you wrapped around me.”

“Yeah?” You lean down, brush a kiss to his lips. “You like being inside me?”

“There is — fuck — there is no one, Y/N, that I want to do this with, besides you.” His mouth slants over yours, and he whispers two words — take me — before he’s giving himself to your kiss.

He’s so big, so deep. And the blood in your veins feels like molten lava as the pace picks up, as his trembling begins to subside, and he grows more confident. His groans are loud, and his hands roam over your body before finally landing on your hips. Fingertips dig into your flesh with a dizzying bite, and he’s rocking you, encouraging you to take him. To fuck him.

This is not practice. This is two bolts of lighting striking in the same place. The friction between your bodies is perfect, like nothing else you’ve ever felt. The pleasure may just finish you yet. It’s electric. Addictive. You want to feel like this forever, with him.

And more pleasure floods you as in one swift move, he flips you over — takes you entirely by surprise. You’re landing on your back, and he’s hovering over you. He stills as he stares down at you.

“This is perfect.” He says, dipping down to kiss you again. It makes him move inside you suddenly, and the different angle has you both gasping into each other’s mouths. “Gods.”

“Fuck me, Az.” You moan. “Just like that.”

What starts out slow quickly builds in pace. The roll of Azriel’s hips become thrusts — and the moans, the cries, the words that leave you, all guide them to be deeper, harder. You think you could stay like this forever, with him buried inside of you, wringing pleasure from every corner of your body. It snakes through your veins and zips up your spine, and when his hand travels down and his fingers find your clit, you fucking explode.

You cry out, bucking up from the bed as your orgasm hits you full force. Azriel fucks you through it, and his groans are growing louder, more desperate, as the walls of your cunt clench around him. He breathes out a fractured, desperate noise, leaning down to brush his lips over yours as he fucks into you harder.

“I can’t last much longer.” He chokes around his pleasure, pressing quick, nipping kisses to your mouth. “I can’t—”

“Come for me.” You gasp, locking your legs around his waist. “Come inside me.”

The noise that your words coax from him is downright sinful. He grabs your hips in his hands, slants his mouth over yours. He slams into you again, again, again, and then he’s roaring his pleasure with enough force to shake the bed, and you feel every rope of come that he spills into you.

You’re trembling. Or maybe that’s him. Or both of you. Both slick with sweat, and both shaking, and both unable to hold yourselves up any longer.

Azriel collapses beside you, his body still tangled with yours. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, his heavy breaths heating your skin. You sink a trembling hand into the strands of his hair.

“That was—” His voice hitches, “I can’t…can’t put it into words.”

Neither can you. It’s all you can do to nod as you catch your breath.

“Thank you.” A kiss is pressed against your neck. Another. Az’s arm drapes over your chest, and he moves his mouth to yours. “Thank you.”

Still void of words, you settle on kissing him. Deep. Slow. Unhurried. Your hand cups his cheek, and your tongue strokes into his mouth. Lays out a litany of sentiments that you’re currently incapable of verbalising.

It feels like you kiss each other forever. But then you’re pulling back, pressing your foreheads together. And you stare into Azriel’s eyes as you tell him once again, “I love you.”

Emotion floods his eyes, and he holds you as close to him as he possible can, murmuring onto your mouth, “I love you, too. I think I always have.”

You know you always have. You tuck yourself into his side, content to feel his skin against yours. The rest of the world floats away. There is nothing and no one but you and him. Your Azriel.

Your eyes are growing heavy when he brushes his lips against your forehead, and he whispers the words you’ve needed to hear for so, so long.

“Whatever happens, Y/N,” another kiss joins the first, “you and I will face it together.”

pom tags: @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @sirenpearldust @queercodedcharacter @azriels-shadowsinger @ruler-of-hades @demi03 @magicaldragonlady @abrielletargaryen @ralsieq @v3lv3tf0x @achase2002 @feyretopia @hayrunnwr @don’t-feed-the-hipsters @brekkershadowsinger @piceous21 @bloodicka @acourtofinkandpapyrus @riri-is-agirlie @siriusement @4valyries @socmono @azriels-mate123 @acourtofbatboydreams @katherinearcheron @nesemi @lupinswolfsbanes @dreaming-unafraid @dxnniiix @cyrygher @liddyr03 @lmllsl @nightless @teenageeggscissorslawyer @brighterthanlonelythoughts @blitz-fall @maybefoxysouls @mschanand1erbong @juiceboxreads @bangtanbecks @florencemtrash @hyemishii @obixix @thenovarose @meshellexplosionmurder @angzlxna @lissy31xoxo-blog @supernatural99 @positivewitch @art3-m1ss @milfhunter-pdx @bbuckysbeardd @coralseacourt @towhateverend87 @sspookz @bird-on-the-wire33 @morrie-rose @megwan @catscanteleport @sevikas-whore @thickthighs-sadeyes @hihelloitsbooktimeppl

1K notes · View notes

analbedo · 1 year

Text

📔 that boy’s a liar ft asshole virgin killer jock bf childe

ngl im having Bad Childe Thoughts™️ sorry he’s such nonconner bait like skskfkkdks. also this was not supposed to be this long sadly i just got too silly wit it >_> also it’s been so long since i wrote i had to keep looking words up to make sure i used them right asksjdjsk i was staring at my phone for like 10 minutes bc there’s no way sinisterly is a word 🤨 anyway.

i could easily imagine him being, like, an asshole jock, probably plays some rich boy sport like lacrosse 😭 and every time the school year starts he’s always looking for another cute freshman to fuck. he had a thing for virgins, and no one was more virginal than a fresh out of high school girl, eager to find her first boyfriend, completely oblivious to the nature of men. (well, really, men like him.)

𐐪 warning: this fic contains dark content, please read my dark content disclaimer before continuing. minors dni.

🦢cw: virginity kink, dubcon/sexual coercion, noncon/rape (both implied and explicit, the word rape is also used), misogyny (i’m sorry women🥺), emotional manipulation, unhealthy relationships, unconsensual nude sharing, degradation, unconsensual creampie-ing (is there a better word for this?), hair pulling, mouth spitting, contraception mention⁉️

° 𐐪 ♡ 𐑂 nsfw below the cut! 𐐪 ♡ 𐑂 °

and that’s what led ajax to you, the bright eyed, overly naive barely legal cheerleader. most cheerleaders were too slutty for his tastes, but he could tell from the innocent way you swung your hips and nervousness around guys that you’d probably never had a boyfriend, let alone sex.

bagging you was too easy, he almost felt bad for you. he’d barely finished inviting you to one of his games when you’d excitedly accepted. afterward, him convincing you to go to a frat party later that night was child’s play (no pun intended). from there on, you were putty in his hands. ajax had no real intentions of dating you, you were a bit too innocent for his tastes. but, when you offhandedly mentioned you were saving yourself for “the one” (seriously?), he realized he had no other choice.

nothing really changed after you made it official, you still went to his games and parties with him, and sent him nudes that he was definitely sending to his friends’ groupchat. ajax, the notorious virgin killer, and his new victim. the general consensus was that you were the hottest one he found, which was an accomplishment, but his friends teased him for how long it was taking for him to smash— “you’re losing your touch there, casanova” kaeya texted him after he updated the chat on his latest date with you.

ajax rolled his eyes, but it was true. you were really not trying to give it up, even if you were blackout drunk, slurring your words at parties, even when he lit candles and set out rose petals for your one month anniversary, even when he said he’d never tell anyone. nothing was working, and he was starting to get annoyed. nutting on you face, tits, and ass wasn’t cutting it; if anything he was starting to get more and more sexually frustrated. he wouldn’t force you, he wasn’t that type of guy, but damn it if he wasn’t running out of ways to try to convince you to let him actually put his dick inside you; he’d even settle for just head at this point.

ajax reached his breaking point one night after a game. his team won the championship finals for their division, or something, which meant they had a solid chance at playing to win the state title. surely, he deserved something for that. so, when you invited him over to celebrate after, he was expecting more than you just surprising him with a homemade dinner after his shower.

“that’s it?” ajax asked, looking in disbelief at the table, his voice gradually growing louder and meaner as he spoke. “you fucking cook for me all the time, why the fuck would you think this is a surprise?”

you felt your heart sink a little bit; you’d put way more effort into it than your usual dishes, and you thought he’d might like a nice, fulfilling dinner after working so hard. ajax had little outbursts like this all the time, but he assured you that’s just how relationships are, and who would give up a tall, handsome, perfectly sculpted redhead athlete just because he’s a little temperamental.

you remained quiet; usually, this is where he’d apologize and say he had a bad day, or was tired. but, his tirade kept going.

“we’ve been together three fucking months and you’re still acting like the same boring virgin bitch as when we started dating. i thought for once you’d stop fucking neglecting me and finally fucking put out.” ajax reached up to run a hand through his damp auburn hair, his towel slipping down ever so slightly as he did so. you felt your face grow warm in embarrassment and desire. you wanted to wait, but him borderline flashing you sent butterflies down your stomach to between your legs.

“i’m sorry,” you said meekly, genuinely meaning it. you tried explaining how scared you were to do it for the first time; stds, pregnancy, or having your cherry popped, which you imagined would be more painful than it sounds. ajax always gave you the same responses, that he was clean, he’d pull out, he’d be gentle. you had no reason to deny him, really, you saw a future with him; and, if he’d dated you this long without having sex, you imagined he’d want to be with you forever once you said yes.

but still, something in your body was telling you to stop, leave, run. as many butterflies as he gave you, there were still cold claws of dread and fear dragging in your chest at the thought of sleeping with him. “i’m just not ready yet, baby. i’m sorry.” you replied, unable to meet his eye.

that was probably a good thing, because the look of disgust he casted would’ve been enough to make you break down in tears. “not… ready?” ajax asked in an angry low timbre. “you’re a fucking adult, for christ’s sake, what the fuck do you mean you’re not ready? it’s fucking sex, not a marriage proposal.” he huffed incredulously, running both hands through his hair now while throwing his head back. he turned away from you, finally allowing you to lift your gaze from the floor. staring at his back, you realized just how muscular your boyfriend was— and tall too.

if he really wanted it, he could easily take it. you wouldn’t stand a chance.

the thought alone made your throat swell and eyes prick. you never thought he could be that kind of guy; and if he is, wouldn’t it be better to just let him do what he wants? maybe he’d go easy on you if you said yes now.

“everyone else on the team is probably getting ass at that after party, and i’m fucking stuck here playing house with a childish ass bitch,” ajax groaned. his words felt like punches straight to the gut; you instinctively held your abdomen in response. he turned around to you, his face now free of anger, but full of… something. you didn’t know what, but it was sending shivers down your spine. “you know, this is the longest i’ve ever gone without having sex,” he said in a neutral tone, slowly walking around the table to approach you. you winced as he lifted your chin up, bringing his face uncomfortably close to yours.

“look at me,” ajax said softly, but sinisterly. you forced your tear filled eyes to meet his, but not without trembling in fear. “you’re neglecting me, you know. isn’t it a little unfair to deprive me of intimacy, when i’ve been doing everything i can to make you comfortable? why are you so scared of me, hm? why don’t you trust me?” you merely blinked in response; if you talked you knew you wouldn’t be able to hold back sobbing. “i don’t neglect you, do i? is there anything you want that i don’t for do?” you pondered the question; though he was rarely ever nice or this soft spoken, he had a point— physically, he’d given you all the cuddles and forehead kisses you could want.

still, that wasn’t the same thing as having sex? or, was it? who’s to say he finds cuddling as intimate as lovemaking? maybe sex was to him what cuddling was to you— maybe you were neglecting him. you shook your head softly in reply.

“good girl, you’re right. i’ve done everything i can to prove you can trust me, does that not matter to you? will i never be good enough for you?” ajax’s voice sounded sincere, but the cold, perverse look in his eyes still made you doubt. “i’ve been so patient, baby. i could’ve taken it any time i wanted, but i waited for you. you gonna keep me waiting forever?”

something about his logic wasn’t quite adding up to you— but, it didn’t matter. your brain was too clogged with fear to compute anything. plus, he confirmed what you tried so hard to not acknowledge all along: if he wanted you, he could have you, whether you wanted it or not. your heart thudded in your chest.

you felt guilty for depriving your boyfriend for so long, but that was overshadowed by your fear of what he’d do to you if you kept kept saying no. “ok,” you whispered meekly, so soft you were surprised he even heard it.

or, maybe he didn’t. it probably wouldn’t have made much of a difference.

ajax smiled, though this time his grin of approval filled you with cold terror instead of giddy excitement. “i knew you’d do the right thing.”

***

“shouldn’t we use condoms?” you asked. you were sitting on your bed, wrapping your naked body with your fuzzy pink blanket. maybe you were as childish as he said. the more you thought about it, the less you wanted to do it, but, it was too late mow.

“they’re too small for me, but, don’t worry, i’m clean. can’t let an std fuck up my lacrosse career, you know?” ajax said casually, walking towards the bed.

“no, not for that. i meant for- i mean, like, i’m not on, like, birth control or anything—” you stammered.

“oh that’s fine, i was gonna pull out anyway. can’t let a baby fuck up my career, either,” he replied, chuckling at his own joke before giving you a light peck. “plus, you’re too hot to knock up right now, it’d ruin your body. i’d save that for after you’ve already hit the wall. anyway,” he said sliding back on the bed and leaning against the wall. “come here princess, i’ll show you what to do.”

you turned around and crawled toward him, sitting back on your heels. his comment about your body momentarily snapped you out of your fearful haze; were you really about to give it up to such an asshole?

ajax twirled his finger, motioning you. “face that way, towards the door. and get on your hands and knees”

“like this?”

“perfect. now—” instead of giving instructions, ajax put his hand between your shoulder blades and pushed you down roughly. “you’re gonna stay like that.”

it was kind of humiliating being in such a lewd pose; you’d always imagined your first time would be passionate missionary sex, not getting your back blown out. ajax shuffled behind you on the bed; he was taking his boxers off.

“okay, you ready? i’m gonna be honest, it’s pretty big, and it’s gonna hurt a lot before it starts to feel good, alright?” ajax said as he positioned himself behind you, his hands on your hips as he slowly dragged the tip of his dick against your vulva. “just keep taking it, though,” he said, lowering his voice for the rest of his sentence: “i didn’t wait all this time just to get blue balled.”

ajax lined himself up with your hole, and you sucked in a breath as you felt the slight pressure of his tip on the outer rim. you winced, scrunching your face as you prepared for him to actually go in.

sadly, nothing could’ve prepared you for that type of pain.

“fuck— ajax stop, no, it hurts— it hurts too much—” you cried out, practically screaming.

“tch. stop being so dramatic, i’m not even halfway in,” ajax paused his speech as he pushed into you further, eliciting a yelp. the searing pain was almost enough to render you unconscious, and, god, how you wish it actually did. “it’ll hurt less once you’re used to it. relax, for fucks sake. the more you panic the more it hurts.”

you wished you could heed his advice— but, then again, what does he know? he’d only ever inflicted the pain, never received it. there’s no way he could comprehend how horrific it felt being split open, your body resisting every inch but still being made to take it. the pain came from between your legs and in your head, too, the few fleeting thoughts you had besides how much it hurt questioning how he could put you through this, if he really loved you, he knew you weren’t ready.

you abandoned speech altogether, merely sobbing as ajax continued to push his thick cock inside you.

ajax paused again. “crying’s only hot if i can see it. shut the fuck up, you’re killing the mood.” when you didn’t stop sobbing, he grabbed you by the ponytail, jerking your towards him so he could mutter in your ear; the shock was enough to shut you up, at least momentarily. “i swear i get soft ‘cause you keep whining like a bitch, you’re gonna suck it til it’s hard again, and i’ll make sure it hurts a whole lot fucking worse.” he let go of your hair, your body flopping limply back onto your bed.

you took a deep breath, biting down on your arm to silence yourself, and prepared for the worst.

ajax was angry now, and, being the cause of his agitation, he happily took it out you. you bit down so hard you could’ve sworn you drew blood as he continued to shove his cock inside you; his thrusts were rough, it felt as he was tearing you open. just as your brain grew delirious with pain, you felt one final shove before the warmth of his body was against your ass.

“there, that wasn’t so bad, was it, baby? i don’t even think you’re bleeding,” ajax cooed. you were so beat down you couldn’t even speak, but he didn’t really need a reply; he didn’t care how bad it was for you, because it was perfect for him. “but i know you’re still a virgin, or, were a virgin, ‘cause you’re so fucking tight.” he moaned as he held your hips and pushed into further, somehow managing to get even deeper. this caused a new type of discomfort; less of the searing torture of him going in, but a nonetheless dull, aching pain in your lower abdomen.

“fuck, you feel so good, pussy’s gripping me so tight like it’s made for me. think i just hit your cervix, too.” ajax’s hands traveled from your hips to your ass, massaging the soft flesh on either side. “you’re so fucking hot, i could probably cum just from this.”

panic became the new sensation that took you over. “but you said you’d pull out,” you cried, trying a last ditch attempt to crawl away from him.

ajax easily held you against him again, and sighed in annoyance. “i said i could, not that i would, stupid slut. you’re the last girl alive i’d knock up; who’d wanna spend 18 years with your annoying ass?”

tears returned to your eyes; is this really how he viewed you? was this entire relationship just a ruse to get in your pants?

well, it didn’t matter, at this point. he was already there, and wasn’t leaving until he finished. you had no choice but to take it.

ajax clicked his tongue before gently sliding out of you, barely an inch. he showed no mercy thrusting back into you, though, making that dull ache resonate again. he slowly pulled out again, leaving only the tip inside.

“damn, you’re pretty wet for a bitch that says she doesn’t want it,” he sneered. ajax slammed his dick back inside you; strangely, it didn’t hurt nearly as much as the first time, minus him hitting your cervix. “but virgins are all the same,”ajax continued, picking up the pace at which he rutted into you. “you pretend you don’t want it to ‘cause of your purity bullshit, but the second i’ve got you bent over you start creamin’ on me like a porn star, can’t help yourself.”

the pain of him sliding into you was gone at this point; you could only feel the drag of his cock against your walls, rubbing against a spot that made ecstasy shoot through you. even the ache from him going too deep started to feel pleasurable. you couldn’t help but moan as waves of euphoria washed over you.

“yeah, you like that, baby?” ajax purred, before sending a sharp smack to your ass. he chuckled hearing you moan at that, too. “damn, you’re a masochist, too? didn’t think a pure little princess would be such a whore in bed.” he slapped your ass again, before reaching around to grab your neck and pull you towards him and titling your head back so he could look into your face. “bet you’re sorry for making me wait, huh? fucking tease,” he snapped, before spitting into your mouth. “swallow it.”

you did as you were told, disgusted by the feeling of the warm, foamy liquid landing in your mouth and sliding down your esophagus. he let you go, and you fell again back onto the bed. ajax placed a large hand on your back, pushing you down into the right position.

“keep your back fucking arched,” ajax scolded. with one hand pressing you into the sheets, and one firmly grasping the softness of your hip, he rutted into you, harder, and faster, each thrust sending shots of pleasure and pain throughout your whole body.

“ah- ajax- slow- fuck- slow down, ‘ts too much- too fast-i can’t—” you moaned, drooling onto the sheets. it felt so wrong, letting him do this to you, with all the awful things he’s said and done— but, you couldn’t help how good it felt taking his dick, every movement adding to the euphoric build up that made your body limo and head dizzy.

the intensity of pain and pleasure increased as he leaned over to hiss in your ear: “you’re gonna take what i fucking give you., slut.” ajax pried open your jaw, and shoved two long fingers into your mouth. “i’m tired of listening to you moaning, i wanna hear you gag for me, princess.” you choked around him, his digits pressing the back of your throat. “yeah, just like that, baby.”

the feeling of his fingers being pushed down your throat as he panted in your ear, while still not letting up on his rapid thrusts was all too stimulating; you felt your body tremble as you came, tranquillizing euphoria spreading your body like electricity. you could vaguely feel your pussy flutter around ajax’s dick, involuntarily clenching around him.

“fuck, you just got so much tighter— ah, wetter, too,” ajax moaned in your ear, burying his head in the crook of your neck and shoulder. “fuck, baby, i’m so close, feels so fucking good—” he cut himself off with his own panting, desperately chasing his own release.

it took you a moment to register his words in your post orgasm haze, but you quickly snapped to attention once you did. you jerked your head to the side so his fingers were no longer massaging the back of your tongue.

“wait- ajax, you said you’d pull out—”

“god, i know, i will, now shut the fuck up before you ruin it,” he groaned. his hands moved to yours, pinning your wrists down while as rhythm grew sloppy.

“ajax, please- you said you wouldn’t, cum inside me— please— please don’t don’t—“ you plead desperately.

“shut up, bitch,” ajax spat. “i know what im fucking doing,”. “i’m not gonna nut inside you— fuck— just need a little more—ah”

“please don’t,” you whispered softly; you were almost certain ajax wouldn’t risk cumming inside you— his reasoning was sound, but there again was that feeling of chilling dread as he kept messily rutting into you.

“fuck, ‘ts so good, so fucking wet— ah” ajax panted, indifferent to your reminders. his speed slowed, now more pronounced pounding. “fuck, fuck, i’m sorry baby, it just feels too fucking good, i can’t— ahh”

you screamed for him to stop, but it was too late; you could feel after his final thrust a warmth inside you, spreading deeper into your core as he wrapped his arms around you. “ajax, stop it— get off— let me go!” you screeched, desperately trying to break free from his grasp.

“sorry, princess, ‘ts too late now. shit, there’s so fucking much, too,” ajax sighed, pushing into you even harder. “fuck.”

nothing could describe the disgust you felt, trapped under your boyfriend’s sweaty, toned body as he forced you to take every last drop of his cum, shamelessly draining his balls inside your limp body. you knew you had to worry about pregnancy or an sti, but those were far from your mind.

the only thing you could think about is how bad you wanted to die.

ajax finally released you, getting off the bed and searching for his clothes. once free, you immediately crawled into a fetal position, tears pooling from your eyes as his cum drooled down your thighs.

epilogue

“sorry about that, by the way,” ajax said nonchalantly, as if he didn’t basically ruin your life. “it’s been so long since i last had sex, i guess i forgot how to pull out in time, so it’s kind of on you for making me wait.”

you said nothing; as humiliated as you were, you couldn’t risk more embarrassment by actually responding to him.

“hey, so, there’s still an after party going on, so i think i’m gonna check that out. you don’t have to worry about coming though— shit, sorry— attending, i know you probably have some shit you wanna work through right now. soooo,” you heard his footsteps head toward your bedroom door. he paused, as if he was waiting for a response, but eventually you heard him leave your room, head out the front door, and drive off. you laid on your bed, curled up in shame, for what felt like an eternity, until the loud text alert from your phone jolted you out of your catatonic state. it was a text— from ajax, surprisingly.

hey. left you a apology gift on your table. hope it helps.

you threw on a bathrobe and shuffled miserably back to your dining room. the elaborate feast you made was embarrassing to look at; all that effort just to get borderline raped by your boyfriend for his special night. you saw the gift he must have been referring to: a wad of bills, that, when you counted them it amounted to $65. you read the messy scrawl on the accompanying note:

enough for a plan b ♡

#tw noncon #tw dubcon #childe #childe smut #childe x reader #genshin smut #tartaglia smut #ajax x reader #<- damn how many names this mf got like ⁈

1K notes · View notes

sunflowersatori · 9 months

Text

kiss it better - pt. 2

sukuna x nurse!reader

contents: modern au, f!reader, sukuna is just a guy™️, it's your weekend off but ofc he's gonna bother you, some swearing, innuendos

word count: 2.5K

a/n: people seemed to like the first one so here's part two (which was supposed to be about the same length but I definitely let get away from me), i know i made him ooc at the end there but i really just wanted him to be so whipped its not even funny ((also i apologize for the un-aestheticness of my posts i will try harder in the future 💀))

You were laying on the couch relaxing when your phone began to ring, the number for your building's intercom system on the screen. It was odd, you weren’t expecting any company until later today, but you shrugged it off and picked up anyway. Maybe it was a package you had forgotten about.

You should have known better.

“Hello?”

“Hey sweetheart.”

You immediately frowned as Sukuna’s voice came through the speaker, “What do you want?”

“Well I found myself in need of a little TLC and I was nearby, so…think you can patch me up?”

“Why me??” You rubbed your temples to quell the headache you knew was coming, “Can’t you go bother some other nurse?”

“Aww but you’re my favourite.”

There weren’t many options. You knew that if you hung up now he’d just call his twin brother to be let in and still come bother you. Yuji lived a few floors below you with his boyfriend Megumi, coincidentally another nurse. You’d run into Sukuna coming to visit when you were arriving home from a day shift, which unfortunately meant he’d found out where you lived.

You let out a deep sigh, “Fine.”

His reply was cut off by you buzzing him in, effectively dropping the call.

Soon enough there was a knock on the door, and you went over to open it, letting Sukuna smugly saunter into your apartment.

“You do know it’s my weekend off right?”

“Why do you think I’m here and not at the clinic?” he asked, eyes flashing knowingly.

You knew that he knew. Your coworker had texted you last night telling you that the “big sexy broody man with the tattoos” had come in asking for you, and she’d told him you had the weekend off from work. This also meant that he had gotten in a fight last night, and this morning.

“Is it like a sexual thing? Are you a masochist or something?” You wondered aloud as you went over to grab your first aid kit.

You could nearly hear the smirk in Sukuna’s voice when he replied, “I’m not, but if you’re asking after my sexual preferences I’d be happy to give you a few demonstrations.”

“Stop that. I’m just trying to figure out why you’re willingly going out and getting beaten up like every night,” You said, and brought your supplies over to the kitchen counter.

“That’s hurtful,” he came over to lean against the counter next to you, “you think I’m not winning all these fights?”

“Need I remind you that just a month ago I was relocating your shoulder?”

“Just took a hit at the wrong angle sweetheart, besides, like I told you back then, the other guy looked worse than me.”

You shook your head, “Just show me where you’re hurt so I can kick you out and go back to relaxing.”

Sukuna held out his hands for you, which you could see had blood on them - not a rare occurrence - and a few knuckles looked to be split.

“I told you I needed some TLC, so where’s that tender loving?” he crooned with a grin.

You took his hands and examined them, “Right now you’re lucky that I’m even giving you care.”

The injuries were surface level, so you didn’t have to worry about setting any breaks or sprains, and just got straight to cleaning him up.

“So, what does such a pretty nurse do on her weekend off?”

“I have some friends coming over later. We’re all going to get ready and go out to a bar,” you replied as you carefully wiped the dried blood off his hands.

“You don’t sound very excited. Need me to come along and make things more fun for you?”

You could practically hear the leer in his voice, but you chose to ignore it.

“No,” you frowned,” I’m excited…I am. I’m just tired, and going out isn’t really my thing…but we haven’t gone out together in a while because I’m always on night shift, and they really wanted to go…”

Sukuna was staring at you when you looked up at him. You couldn’t pin the expression on his face, but the scrutiny made you blush a bit so you quickly looked back down to his hands. Normally it would have taken a lot less time for you to bandage his injured knuckles, but you needed to make sure that when you were done you didn’t still have a blush on your face.

If he noticed that you were a bit slow today, he either didn’t care or didn’t comment. Knowing Sukuna, it very well could have been both. The man was probably enjoying the extra attention.

“You’re all done,” you said, stepping back once everything was clean and wrapped.

He stood, taking a look at the work and giving you a lazy grin.

“What a good job, see this is why you’re my favourite.”

He suddenly stepped closer, trapping you against the opposite counter. As had become the norm since he’d dislocated his shoulder, he gently took your chin and tilted it up so you were looking at him and leaned in close.

“Thanks sweetheart.”

It still made your heart race every time he did it, but you tried your hardest to compose yourself and slipped out of his reach.

“Alright, alright, now go,” you started pushing him toward the door, “I have a hot date with a couch in about two minutes.”

“Any chance I could get in on that?”

You closed the door in his face, but you could still hear him laughing as he walked away from your apartment.

As you threw yourself on the couch you noticed how warm you felt, and you couldn’t help but think about how nice that broad chest of his would be to lay against.

You groaned and shoved your face into a pillow.

Hours later, you’d luckily shaken off your flustered thoughts, but sadly for you, your mind had other things to worry about.

You clenched a glass of water in your hand as you looked out at the crowd, knowing your friends were somewhere on the dance floor. The outing had been fine at first, but now you were too hot and it was too loud, and there were too many people around.

You needed some space.

There was a small porch in front of the bar, so you decided to step out onto it, hoping the cool night air would do you some good.

Just as you had taken a calming breath, a body slammed into yours and you lost your balance, causing you to tumble to the sidewalk hard.

You were vaguely aware of two men fighting right next to you, but your brain was still more concerned about the initial sting of hitting concrete.

“Hey knock it off!” You heard a familiar voice shout, bringing things back into focus.

“Can’t you see there’s other people around that might get caught in your shit?! Look what you did to this girl.”

When you looked up, it was to see Sukuna standing between you and the two guys fighting, who had paused to size him up.

“Why the fuck do you think we care?”

Sukuna's only reply was a solid punch to the man’s jaw. The guy went flying to the ground, and the other one figured it was probably best for his health if he left, so he made himself scarce.

“Hey,” you heard Sukuna’s voice, much softer this time.

You looked back over to find him crouching next to you, a hint of concern in his eyes.

“You okay?”

You nodded, and winced when you tried to shakily stand. Your knee was skinned, and some bits of rock and gravel had dug into your palm and forearm, but other than that you were alright. Nevertheless, Sukuna took your good arm and pulled you up.

“Want me to take you home?”

You nodded and he led you to his car. You managed to remember that you should probably let your friends know where you went, so you sent a text telling them you weren’t feeling well and that you were heading back to your apartment.

Sukuna was quiet on the drive, hands clenching and unclenching on the steering wheel and occasionally glancing over at you. Something was bothering him, that much you could tell, but what it was, you weren’t sure. It didn’t take long to get back to your building, and then Sukuna was walking you up to your unit, keeping a hand close to your back to support you if you needed it.

You turned to him once you reached your door, “Thanks for getting me home, and helping me back there.”

“It was nothing sweetheart, I’m glad nothing else happened.”

“Yeah, anyway I should..probably..” you motioned to your door and moved to push it open.

“You’re not gonna let me come in?”

You froze, “What, why?”

“Because you’re hurt,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You gave him a dry look, “I am a nurse you know, I think I can take care of myself.”

“But you shouldn’t have to.”

His words caught you off guard. The sincerity, and the way he shoved his hands in his pockets and looked the slightest bit embarrassed.

“You’re always taking care of people…let someone take care of you this time.”

You couldn’t help but stand there in silence for a moment, weighing his words, but something tugged at your heart, and you pushed the door wider so he could come in too.

“Okay. You can come in…I’m just gonna shower first, and wash up. I’ll be out soon,” you said, and headed off to your bathroom.

You let the hot water sink into your skin as you thought about what Sukuna had said, wondering what it was he was thinking. Once you were out and changed into more comfortable clothes you returned to the kitchen. Sukuna was rummaging around the cabinets and mumbling soft curses, somehow having managed to change into sweats and a t-shirt.

“First aid kit is top left…where did you get those clothes?”

“I ran down to Yuji’s while you were in the shower,” he said over his shoulder, “Being a twin has its perks.”

He found the first aid kit and pulled it down, turning to give you a smirk.

“Come sit sweetheart,” he patted the counter in front of him.

You padded over and pushed yourself up to sit on the counter and face him. He seemed to be digging through the contents of your first aid kit.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

He shook his head and tsked at you, “I bring you home and offer to take care of you and this is how you thank me? I’ve been watching you do this for a while now, I think I have some idea of what to do.”

After pulling out what he needed, he took the arm with the scrapes on it and wiped it, being careful not to press too hard. He wrapped it in gauze, which wasn’t totally necessary as the scrapes weren’t too serious, but you simply let him continue without a word otherwise.

He cleaned the gash on your knee as well, this time picking out a bandaid and gently smoothing it over the spot.

“Almost done,” He said, getting down on his knees in front of you. He was tenderly holding your leg. Ankle in one hand and calf in the other.

“What are you doing?”

“Proving a point” he said softly, and leaned in to press his lips against the bandaid on your knee.

“Maybe you should kiss it better.”

“Why would I do that?”

“A kiss always makes it feel better.”

He looked up at you, “Better?”

You nodded and he rose, standing between your legs and leaning into your space with his hands on either side of you.

“Does it hurt anywhere else?”

His voice was low and gentle, and he was looking at you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

You took a deep breath and pointed to your face.

Then you were being kissed, soft and sweet, and Sukuna’s hands were cupping your face as if you might break into a thousand pieces if he laid one finger wrong.

Your hands gripped his shirt, tugging him closer and he obliged. His hands slid from your face and down your back until he had them under your thighs and he was tugging you closer.

“Hold onto me,” he whispered against your lips, and after you wrapped your arms around his neck he picked you up easily and walked over to your couch.

You leaned into another kiss, letting him sit down on the couch with you in his lap as you gently threaded your hands in his hair. He kept you close, kissing you tenderly until you were both out of breath and had to pull away.

Neither of you went far, not wanting to let the moment die by putting distance between you.

“So…” he murmured after a moment, “you gonna kick me out sweetheart?” His hands were on your waist, thumbs lightly stroking your ribs.

You shook your head as you traced your fingers over his cheekbones, then followed his tattoos down the line of his jaw and to where they were just barely peeking out from the neckline of his shirt. Your eyes blinked slowly, and you began to realize how tired you were.

“Hey,” Sukuna took your chin in his hand and tilted your face to look at him, “you falling asleep on me?”

“No,” you pouted, but of course your body decided that that was the perfect time to yawn.

Sukuna snorted, “Sure. C’mon, it’s bedtime.”

He easily lifted you again, and after prompting you for directions he managed to get you to your bedroom and tuck you in.

“Alright sweetheart, I’ll be on the couch if you need me,” he said, brushing your hair away from your forehead so he could place a kiss there.

Before he could move away your hand reached out and grasped his shirt.

“Stay here.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to-”

“Noo…don’t go…” You whined and tugged his shirt more, interrupting him.

He sighed and took your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm, “Okay sweetheart, okay. Just let me shower real quick and then I’ll come back, promise.”

You nodded, and he tucked you back in before going off to shower. Even though you were teetering on the edge of sleep, you desperately wanted to stay awake long enough for him to come back.

A few minutes later, he was walking back into the bedroom, turning off the light as he did. He came around to the opposite side of the bed, and you felt it dipping behind you as he got in. A strong, tattooed arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you back against his chest.

Sukuna sighed as you settled in, “You have no idea the things I’d do for you, do you sweetheart?”

He was stroking your cheek, but you were already asleep in his arms, so he simply pressed a kiss to your head, and settled in to sleep himself.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you

448 notes · View notes

twst-trash · 2 years

Text

❥• 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧-𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐝

Tumblr ate my last upload for some reason, so if you see this one please like/reblog it again 😩

Summary: Leona invites you to a royal gala in the Sunset Savanna and you learn that he likes you more than he tries to let on.

wc: 5.2k (!)

content warnings: Jealous!Leona x fem!reader, 18+ smut. Jealousy, breeding kink, scenting, Pining™️. Featuring a cliché love rival and my own take on Queen Kingscholar. Just a little something I wrote to pull me out of the funk I’ve been in lately.

“Tch, I hate this kind of shit.” Leona mumbles as he fiddles with his cufflinks in the mirror. His hair is tied into an unkempt ponytail, stray mahogany locks cascading over his face haphazardly. He looks so different standing there in formal attire- you’re so used to seeing him in his barely buttoned NRC uniform and god-awful sandals- but his demeanor remains unchanged. A small smile pulls at the corner of your mouth as you watch him jam an ungracious finger between his canine and incisor, double checking for any hidden crumbs leftover after brushing his teeth this morning.

Behold, you think, the ever elegant Second Prince: Leona Kingscholar.

(Truthfully, you were more than surprised when Leona showed up to the Ramshackle Dorm before winter break and propositioned the trip back to his homeland.

“I gotta take someone with me to this stupid gala.” He had said to you, hunched in the low arch of the doorframe. His body was comically compressed, folding in on himself as he tried to bully his way into the dorm. “My brother won’t shut his trap about needing me to bring a partner. Said he’d just pick someone at the palace to be my chaperone if I couldn’t get anyone.”

You looked the beastman up and down, an eyebrow quirking inquisitively. “So you want me to waste my winter break babysitting you?”

A subtle flash of hurt crossed his features for just a moment before an almost imperceptible rumble started in the back of Leona’s throat. “You know what? Forget about it- I shoulda known you’d be a brat about this.” He all but growled, contorting his body once more as he motioned to close the door.

“Wait.” You sighed and grasped the doorknob before Leona could pull it shut. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t go.”)

And thus you had been thrust into the mirror portal to the Sunset Savanna, woefully unqualified for a fancy royal party.

Leona’s tux, an amber-gold suit that fit sophisticatedly against his body and nipped in at his well-defined waist, only serves to remind you of how underdressed and unprepared you are for the occasion. No matter how juxtaposed by his behavior, Leona looks like royalty- and you, markedly, do not. It was one of your main arguments against coming: the fact that your wardrobe lacked anything acceptable for the foreign diplomats that were apparently visiting the palace. Hell, even your NRC uniform was an old moth-eaten hand-me-down nearly unacceptable to attend school in, but Leona had insisted that he’d find you a dress some way or another.

“Amali probably has somethin’ you can wear.” He had mentioned to you before, sizing you up in a way that made you feel small. “She’s always collecting dresses to sew and repurpose, she’s gotta have something in your size.”

Even if his sister-in-law could perform the miracle of making you look the part, you were still miles away from acting the part. Of course, if Leona were your only benchmark for royal behavior, you’d have already mastered the art. Unfortunately, you have also met Amali Kingscholar, who is effortlessly elegant and poised in all the ways that you are not.

– but even cotillion classes and dresses lined with ridiculously expensive tulle could not prepare you for the most jarring part of coming to the Sunset Savanna. No, the most jarring part of coming to the Sunset Savanna is learning that Leona is the most eligible bachelor in the kingdom. It makes sense when you stop to think about it; he’s the second prince, a (supposedly) soon-to-be graduate of Night Raven College, and, you can begrudgingly admit, devastatingly attractive. From the moment you arrived in the Sunset Savanna, Leona had been bombarded by attractive Lionesses, sticking sweetly to his side and glaring daggers at you for even stepping foot into the kingdom. Their stories were all slightly different (“Remember me, Leona? We used to play together as cubs!”, “I’m the baker’s daughter- you used to love to come in and try our mince pies.”, “Cheka and my niece go to the same preschool!”) but served the same purpose: to endear themselves to the boy you had been not-so-secretly pining over since you had accidentally stepped on his tail in the botanical gardens.

You struggle to define your relationship with Leona, still unsure if you can call yourselves friends. You certainly didn’t consider him to be a friend in the same way you saw Ace and Deuce, though he seemed to be around just as often. It wasn’t entirely your fault for being unsure; Leona purposely made himself hard to read. He’d accuse you of never leaving him alone but invite himself over to the Ramshackle Dorm for a nap on your couch in the same breath. The lion had finessed himself as an immovable fixture in your life, yet you held each other at an arm's length, too afraid of something to get to know each other better (much to the chagrin of Ace, who emphatically exclaims that the two of you need to ‘bone each other and get over it already’ at any chance that presents itself).

Despite the bickering and posturing and fights that Ruggie regularly needs to mediate, Leona is still always there, for better or for worse. He’s still the one who gives you too much money when he sends you to fetch him lunch (‘and get yourself somethin’ to eat if there’s some leftover, I guess’) and the one who’s always suspiciously present to bail you out whenever you find yourself running into trouble. Maybe that should be enough for you- knowing that he cares in his own way. Maybe it shouldn’t feel so awful to see other people flirt with him and, even worse, see him flirt back. Still, as the castle workers flit in and out of Leona’s spacious bedroom, commenting on his attire and using every stray thread or crooked tie as an excuse to allow their hands to linger, you can’t help the sharp sting of jealousy that shoots through your viscera.

It’s far too easy to forget that Leona is a prince with the way he acts, but the longer you spend in the palace, the more it becomes the only thing you can think about.

“I hate this shit.” Leona repeats again, scowling at his reflection in a way that almost confirms your suspicion that his ever-sour expression is practiced. He throws the jacket off of his shoulders and onto the floor with little regard, watching as the fabric crumples in on itself. You’re sure that the maids, who had flattened out every solitary wrinkle several times over, wouldn’t mind having more work to do if that meant being able to run their hands along Leona’s broad chest once more.

“Mhm,” You hum affirmatively. “You’re making it hard to forget that you do.”

“Shut it, herbivore.” Leona rolls his eyes. He undoes the first few buttons of his undershirt and folds the sleeves above his forearms in an attempt to get more comfortable while he still could. “Aren’t you supposed to meet Amali to get fitted, anyway? Gala’s in about an hour.”

“Just wanted to make sure you were actually getting ready- isn’t that part of my job as chaperone?” You say, waggling your eyebrows at him. Leona shoves you and you fall onto his bed dramatically, a breathy laugh expelling itself from your chest on impact. “Is that any way to treat a guest? Not very princely of you.”

“Dramatic brat.” He grouses, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you. You can’t help the way your eyes trail up his forearm, admiring the shape of his muscles. “Think you oughta remember you’re in my palace. I could throw you out of the guest bedroom and let you succumb to the elements tonight.”

You prop yourself up on your elbow, unable to stop the smug grin that’s plastered onto your face. “You’d never.”

“Wanna bet?”

He bows his head, bringing his face closer to yours. You take a sharp breath despite your attempts to remain calm. If Leona got any closer, you’re sure your erratic heartbeat would give you away, too. It’s the closest you’ve been to him since having to share a bed during Azul’s contract and the first time you’ve really looked into his eyes. The emerald pools of color were usually masked in a layer of apathy or annoyance, but those features were noticeably absent from his expression as he stared back at you, pupils dilated and lips parted ever-so-slightly. His gaze travels down to your own lips and you feel your face heat from his scrutiny. All of a sudden, you’re self-conscious. Are your lips chapped? How is your breath?

You’d be lying if you tried to convince yourself that Leona wasn’t always so pretty, especially now as he peers down at you, eyes half-lidded and trained on your unmoving lips.

“You think I wouldn’t?” He mutters, close enough to feel his breath on your cheek. His tone is deathly serious. You’re not sure he’s still talking about throwing you out, not when his lips hover right above yours

- and then there’s a knock.

“My liege?” A small voice calls from outside Leona’s door. The sound is enough for Leona to pull back, creating a considerable amount of distance between the both of you in mere seconds. The cloud of static uncertainty is all at once lifted. “Queen Amali is looking for your guest.”

“She’s here.” Leona barks back as he stands from his place on the bed, a twinge of irritation dripping off every syllable. “Take her, we ain’t doin’ anything important.”

The female servant slowly opens the door, oblivious to the palpable tension present mere moments ago. Despite coming to fetch you, her gaze is fixed on Leona. She looks at the fabric on the ground with a frown and moves into the room to pick it up.

“You shouldn’t have taken off your jacket, sir. The guests should be arriving soon.” She sighs, opening the jacket for Leona to pull his arms through. The way she stares at him is not lost on you, and neither is the way that her hands linger on his chest for too long after adjusting his lapels. And he’s not stopping her. The way he could be so close to you in one moment and have another woman feel him up in the next makes your head spin.

“Ahem.”

The servant’s head turns to you, embarrassed, as if she had just taken stock of the fact you were there. “Right! So sorry, miss. Please follow me to Queen Amali’s chambers.”

You make sure to flip Leona off as you leave the room.

-----

The dress very nearly fits you without any alterations. The amber-gold dress matched Leona’s suit perfectly and was sleek against your body, dipping low to reveal the valley between your breasts. The slit that starts high up your thigh makes you question whether or not it was appropriate for the gala, but Amali was more than happy to pass the dress along to you.

“If it weren’t for the foreign diplomats coming, you probably would’ve been dressed in traditional Sunset Savanna attire.” Amali explained as she contemplated aloud about taking in the waist to have the fabric rest taut around your midsection. “But I’m glad it’s not- I’d love to have that custom made for you the next time you visit.”

The diplomats are already lining up in front of the palace by the time you see Leona again. Amali had insisted that you take your time with her personal makeup collection before the gala began. Being an all-boys school, NRC was unfortunately lacking in the makeup department, so aside from the times that Vil decided to experiment on you, you weren’t used to wearing makeup anymore. Still, slightly unblended eyeshadow aside, you thought you had done a decent job.

You can see Leona waiting at the bottom of the staircase, still fiddling with his cufflinks before the sound of your heels against the marble draws his attention. His eyes wash over your body, unashamedly staring at the way the fabric swishes in time with your steps as you head down the stairs from Amali’s personal sewing room.

“Well look at that,” He starts, still looking you up and down. “The herbivore cleans up well.”

He holds out his hand in an unexpected show of chivalry, and you happily take it. Leona holds you close as you enter the ballroom, amazed by the grandeur of it all. Only a few people besides the Kingscholar family and yourself were present in the room, including a small orchestral band that was in the final stages of setting up for the event. Tables were stationed near the back of the room, donned in expensive-looking gold tablecloths. You could see waiters chatting with each other as they set up their trays by the tables. You feel out of place as an attendee- in your mind, it would make more sense if you were working the party, serving food and drinks along with the busy team of servers.

Leona’s arm around your waist reassures you that, at least for tonight, you belong out here, with him, as an honored guest to the Kingscholar family.

It seems like the ballroom swells with people in the blink of an eye, the previously idling band already playing some smooth, sophisticated tune as the servers begin to mingle into the crowd, carrying glasses of champagne and bite-sized hors d'oeuvres.

“I have some things to take care of,” Leona leans down to whisper into your ear, squeezing the side of your hip reassuringly before pulling away. “I’ll be back, okay?”

You watch as he crosses the ballroom, side still tingling from the ghost of his touch. It’s hard to know what to do by yourself here. You’re unsure if it’s appropriate to socialize, gazing around the room to see if Farena or Amali were available enough to at least let you hover by them. Unfortunately, the King and the Queen are just as busy as Leona, talking to several important-looking people while Cheka runs about with some other royals around his age.

As for the business Leona needed to take care of… Your stomach churns at the sight of more women (and men) making flirty faces at him, touching him in a way that’s too familiar. You can’t help but wonder if he knows them. If he’s grown up with them, if they knew him more intimately than you ever would. A small part of you can dismiss the threat of the palace workers- they’d probably have no real chance of being with Leona- but the foreign royalty and big names in the Sunset Savanna sure do. Probably even more than you.

You grumble a small ‘thank you’ to the server whose tray you snatch a champagne flute from. You drink it far too fast to appear cordial, setting the empty flute back onto the tray before grabbing another one. Tonight was going to be a long, excruciating night.

— - -

It had been nearly an hour without Leona at your side. You sit at one of the tables near the corner, sulking, feeling like you’ve been stood up on a date. The champagne servers were now avoiding you, trying to wean you off from the golden liquid, so you had resorted to hoarding a small plate of hors d'oeuvres to yourself. Drowning your sorrows in beef tartare wasn’t the way you thought you’d be spending winter break. You’d long lost track of Leona in the bustle of the ballroom. If it weren’t for appearances, you would have already made your way back to the guest bedroom.

You feel a tap on your shoulder, instantly perking up.

“Fuck Leona, took you long enough-“ You begin, but as you turn around, the man behind you is most certainly not Leona.

The man looks down at you, raising an amused eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you’ve been waiting for that lazy oaf this whole time.”

Normally you’d take offense to the insult on Leona’s character, but your anger at him abandoning you and the buzz of champagne wins out in the moment. Still, you cross your arms, apprehensive of the stranger in front of you. “I’m not waiting for anyone.”

“I’ve been watching you for a little while now,” the man admits, taking a seat next to you. His ochre eyes survey the empty champagne glasses and pile of hors d'oeuvres in front of you and chuckles to himself. “I can tell a heartbreak when I see it.”

You scoff, pulling the plate closer to you defensively. “I’m not heartbroken.”

“Mind telling me who you are, then?”

The beastman in front of you isn’t unattractive- quite the opposite, actually. His golden eyes are piercing, looking at you intensely. The shock of red hair that sits atop his head almost reminds you of Farena’s, but shaved along the sides so that the top could be neatly swooped over. His ears and tail have alternating streaks of orange and black pigment running across them, reminding you of a tiger.

“You first.” You challenge. He chuckles at that, standing from the table once more.

“Taiga.” He replies simply, bowing slightly and extending his hand. “Care for a dance while you wait for nothing?”

Normally you wouldn’t bother, but the jealousy you feel from seeing Leona with other women all night is still settled in the bottom of your stomach. Against your better judgment, you take his hand as he guides you to the dance floor, immediately seizing your waist and holding you close. You’re not accustomed to ballroom dancing at all, but you move slowly, letting Taiga take the lead.

His body is warm against yours, overwhelmed with a smell so unlike the beastman you were familiar with. It feels wrong, almost, to be dancing with someone other than Leona, but you weren’t exclusive- if he could dance and flirt and be touched, so could you. You sway together, awkwardly, to the tune of the live band the Kingscholars had hired.

“Taiga.” A voice growls from behind you. You’re startled out of your thoughts as Taiga pulls you closer.

“Ah, so the second prince makes an appearance.” Taiga smiles. “I was starting to wonder if you had abandoned the little one here. I was just looking after them for you.”

You scoff in disgust and try to wriggle out of his grasp, but he holds on strong.

“You have five seconds to get away from them.” Leona says, nearing the end of his patience. You can’t see Leona, still held in place by Taiga’s grip, but you can tell that he’s seething.

“Sorry, your majesty.” Taiga says, his voice dripping ingeniously, “I didn’t realize they were your mate. Your scent is just so weak on them- I guess that’s a problem you second princes have to deal with.”

That does it.

“If I catch you talking to my mate again, I’m reducing your whole country to dust.” Leona snarls, baring his teeth to the shorter male. “Write that down as a threat against your kingdom, I don’t give a fuck. I’ll have an embargo put on your kingdom’s ass from here to the Shaftlands if you so much as breathe in their general direction, just you fuckin’ see.”

Taiga releases you from his hold, throwing his hands up defensively. “You’ve made your point. No need to get testy. I’m sure your brother wouldn’t take kindly to learning you were making threats on his behalf.”

Finally free from under the tiger’s slimy grasp, you move to stand beside Leona. If the memory of his overblot wasn’t so recently etched into his mind, you’re sure the man in front of you would be nothing more than a pile of dust by now.

But Leona restrains himself, gripping your wrist and escorting you out of the ballroom and into the hallway leading to his room.

“You always find a way to get involved with the worst people.” He says under his breath.

What, like you? would be your playful answer, but you’re still angry at him for leaving you alone. “I don’t even know who that is.”

“Taiga Hon.” He practically spits. “First born prince to some-fuckin’-where. Certified asswipe and thorn in our sides. Even Farena doesn’t like him.”

You’re silent as the both of you walk further and further from the ballroom. Despite your lingering rage, you’re still relieved to be away from the room full of strangers and back in Leona’s presence.

“Don’t want you bein’ touched like that by anyone else.” Leona mutters, “‘specially not that princely Tiger fuckhead.”

“You’re one to talk.” You scoff, wriggling your wrist out of his grip. “Constantly flirting with your maids, letting them touch you too closely when they fit your tux, and now we’re at a gala where you’d rather entertain other lions and lionesses than pay attention to your date? You know, the person you kidnapped from their peaceful winter break at NRC?”

“So, I’m your date, hm?” Leona smirks, emerald eyes sparkling with delight as your face flushes.

“You’re insufferable.” Of course that’s the one thing he takes from your tirade. “But I’m your mate, apparently?”

“It’s just beastman talk,” He grumbles, though you can’t miss the uncharacteristic blush that spreads across his face. “Don’t let it get to your head, herbivore.”

“Right.” You hum affirmatively, almost bitterly. “I guess your real mate could be any one of those palace workers or lionesses back in the ballroom.”

Leona pauses, stopping in his tracks at your words. Before you can realize what’s happening, Leona has you up against the wall, wrists pinned above your head as he smashes his mouth into yours.

Your heartbeat is erratic, rattling against your ribcage as Leona presses into you. It feels so good to finally have him so close. His knee spreads your legs, bypassing the slit of your dress and pressing right against your clothed cunt. He swallows your moan, tongue working against your own, before he pulls back.

“It’s always been you, herbivore.” He mumbles against your lips. “You’ve always been mine.”

“I’m yours.” You breathe as he trails his lips along the side of your neck, nipping your collarbone in a way that makes you subconsciously rub against the leg between your thighs.

“And I’m yours.” Leona echos, releasing your wrists from his grasp. He lifts you with ease, placing your legs on either side of him, palms hot against your thighs as he leads you back into the bedroom. You wrap your arms around his neck, comforted by his familiar smell.

He pushes his bedroom door open and immediately lays you down on the bed. He discards his tuxedo jacket, carelessly tossing it aside, and quickly works to unbuckle his belt. Finally free of its constraints, you marvel at his erect cock, clenching your legs together at the sight.

“Had to stop myself from pushing your panties aside and fucking you right in that hallway.” Leona whispers hotly in your ear as he presses into you once more. He undoes the zipper along the side of your dress before peeling the shiny fabric off of you and tossing it to join his pile of clothes on the floor. “You really did look amazing in that dress.”

You gasp as he palms the outside of your panties, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth at your reaction.

“Already so wet for me.” He chuckles, trailing a finger up and down your clothed slit.

“Stop teasing.” You hiss impatiently, hips rolling into his touch.

“Patience, herbivore.”

He presses a kiss to your clothed pussy, nose bumping against your clit. He shoves the thin fabric aside and flattens his tongue against your entrance, lapping at your wetness. Your breath stutters out, gripping mahogany locks to try and ground yourself as Leona takes you with his mouth. His tongue expertly swirls around your clit, suckling lightly as he inserts his fingers deep inside your pussy.

His fingers and mouth work in tandem to unravel you; his free hand comes up to knead your clothed breasts, a muffled take it off spoken against your folds. You quickly remove your bra and Leona’s hand wastes no time in seizing your nipple between his forefinger and thumb.

“I’m close, Leona,” You gasp, clutching the back of his head even harder. He doesn’t let up, his hot mouth fully engulfing your clit, sucking and licking as his fingers press against the spongy roof of your pussy. Your body tenses as you hit your peak, wave after wave of pleasure coursing through your body as you cum.

“Mm, good girl.” Leona hums as he pulls away, a satisfied smirk plastered onto his face as he strokes his cock to the sight of you. He spreads your legs wider, folding you in on yourself as he teases the tip of his huge cock between your folds. You moan again, still sensitive from your first orgasm, but eager to accept his cock nonetheless.

“Want this?” He asks, tapping his cock against your clit. You can barely manage to whimper a yes, please before he’s slowly sinking into you. You can hear his own breath hitch as he’s engulfed in the warm, wet walls of your pussy.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” Leona groans, stilling his hips as he bottoms out, waiting for you to grow accustomed to his length.

His head is buried in your neck, biting and nosing you, smearing his scent all over you as if to make a point.

“Move.” You whisper, a tiny command, gripping tight onto his shoulder.

Leona doesn’t have to be told twice, slowly withdrawing his cock before slamming it into you once more. His pace is unrelenting, barreling into you hard and fast, like you’d disappear out from under him if he didn’t.

“Mine.” He grunts before capturing your lips in his. “You’re mine.”

“I’m yours.” You affirm, breathlessly, fingernails scratching Leona’s back and leaving crescent-shaped indents in his flesh. His hand slips between your thighs, rubbing your clit with his thumb. It’s all too much, and you can feel the height of another orgasm approaching.

“You’re squeezing so tight around my cock,” Leona growls into your ear. “I’m gonna fucking cum inside of you.”

“Yes, fuck yes!” You whimper, your own orgasm threatening to wreck your body.

“Love this fucking pussy,” Leona mewls again. “Wanna fill you up so everyone knows you’re mine- have my seed dripping out of you while you talk to those stuffed shirts out there. Get you round with my cubs so everyone knows that You. Are. Mine.”

The last three words are punctuated by three deep thrusts that send you over the edge, chest heaving as your pussy pulsates around Leona’s cock. White warmth fills you as Leona cums deep inside, fucking you through the last throes of your orgasm.

He rolls over, sticking to your side sweatily and kissing the side of your neck. You turn to face him, arms wrapped around each other. It’s silent as the two of you bask in the afterglow.

“You’re cute when you’re jealous.” Leona suddenly speaks up, one tired eye opening to look at you.

“Is that why you were so flirty?” You groan, fighting the urge to smother him in a pillow.

“Maybe.” He says, closing his eyes once more. If he hadn’t just blown your back out, you’d murder him.

“You’re an ass.”

“They’re all social climbers, anyway.” Leona adds, sleepily. “People around here either hate me or want to use me for their own agendas.”

“In speaking of- should we go back to the party?” You ask, but Leona’s head is buried into your shoulder as he grunts in the negative, unwilling to move from his spot next to you.

And you don’t want to go, either.

The next morning at the breakfast table, Cheka is full of energy. It’s much too much for how early it is, and though Leona had insisted that the two of you stay in bed through breakfast, you forced him to go.

“We already slept through the rest of the party last night,” You said exasperatedly, practically dragging the lion out of his own bed. “We have to show up for breakfast.”

“You two must’ve been tired last night.” Amali says slyly, a knowing smile forming on her lips. “Didn’t even stick around for the main courses.”

“Let them have their fun, Amali.” Farena laughs, his voice booming. Like father, like son, you think as you watch Cheka play with the toys he had brought to the breakfast table, two stuffed warthogs he was smashing together with an exaggerated ‘bam!’- boisterous and far too loud. “We were young once.”

She hums, watching your embarrassed expression. “I’m glad you liked the dress last night.”

“Of course, thank you again!” You exclaim, glad for the change in subject, “It was beautiful- I’m surprised you had something in my size.”

Amali laughs, her gaze shifting to Leona. “You didn’t tell her?”

You cock your head, now also looking at Leona. “Tell me what?”

Leona would never tell Queen Amali Kingscholar to shut up; he was raised to respect women, especially his brother’s wife. Instead he grumbles a ‘don’t’ as Amali giggles at his expense.

“He asked me to order it for you.” She says, nudging Leona with her elbow. “He wanted something that’d match his suit, the possessive brat. I was surprised he got your measurements so accurate- someone must’ve been paying attention.”

You can’t help the smile that tugs at your own lips as you watch Leona shift uncomfortably, pretending to be more intrigued by stirring his porridge than the conversation at hand.

“Thank you.” You whisper to him, squeezing his hand. He grumbles something close to a ‘welcome’ underneath his breath, and you know in that moment that he’s been yours this entire time, too.

- - -

As the students of Night Raven College return from their winter vacation, flooding the hall of mirrors en masse with presents they received over the break and embarrassing stories of family hot on their tongues, Ruggie is the first one who notices. Even if his keen senses couldn’t immediately pick up on your intermingling scents, it doesn’t take an apex predator to notice the lovesick glances Leona exchanges with you as the both of you simultaneously enter the hall.

After all the pining, the fights, the tension so thick that Ruggie could sink his teeth into it, he could finally rest and stop playing Cupid’s referee to your will-they-won’t-they schtick. He smiles to himself and thinks of the betting pool posted in his dorm room, dollar signs humming through his veins as he anticipates the happy payday.

“Took you long enough.” The hyena snickers as Leona approaches, coming to greet him as you break off to meet with your friends.

“Yeah.” Leona says with an uncharacteristic softness, his eyes trailing after you as you greet Grim (making sure he hadn’t burnt down Ramshackle in your time away, no doubt), Ace, Deuce and the others -

“It did.”

——

10 points to anyone who can tell which Disney character I based Tiaga off of.

the lion header is by firefly-graphics!

#leona x reader smut #leona x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #twst smut #twisted wonderland smut #leona kingscholar x reader smut

3K notes · View notes

syd-djarin · 6 months

Text

Sugar, Spice & Please Fuck Me Nice (neighbor!joel AU)

chapter two: sex and candy

*18+ minors DNI*

tags: mentions of anxiety, religious shame/guilt, reader being insecure, mentions of (negative) past sexual experiences and partners, brief mention of alcohol consumption, v fingering, oral (f receiving) joel is a cunnilinguist, 2000’s nostalgia, mentions of the patriarchy (booooo) squirting (sue me), Joel-Land™️™️™️

reader has hair that she fidgets with, "grows warm" /"cheeks burning" but not necessarily blushing, with embarrassment - minor edits to make this more inclusive for my readers <3

word count: ~4.5k

Author/s notes: Sorry it took longer to get ch. 2 out than I anticipated. I've had a lot going on in my personal life (I got a new job!) But I promise it won't be as long for ch. 3 hehe. this is a lengthy chapter, hope y'all enjoy!!

had to name reader's bestie after my dear friend @katiexpunk <3 thanks for always letting me run ideas by you and being a peach in general.

and thank you to @softiedingo for being a beta reader as well <333

It has been two weeks since you introduced yourself to Joel and Sarah. You hate to admit it, but you haven’t been able to stop thinking about Joel. Your mind will stay preoccupied temporarily, then they circle back to him.

Throwing clothes in the washer? Joel.

Boiling water for pasta? Joel.

Doing the dishes? Joel.

In the shower? Yep, definitely Joel.

And this morning is no different.

You’re staring at yourself in your bathroom mirror, brushing your teeth, mind deep into Joel-Land, then your thoughts take a sharp turn - for the worst. You’re thinking about all of your past sexual encounters.

How unsatisfying and selfish your past partners were. You hadn’t been romantically involved with any of your past partners, all of them casual-no-strings-attached type of arrangements.

Even if the sex was casual, did that mean the pleasure had to be one-sided? Of course not.

However, after each encounter you found yourself feeling disappointed, and truthfully, it made you feel…..icky. Was it religious shame? Even though you don’t participate or believe in any religion anymore, your formative years were spent in a conservative, Christian church; where sex is bad, and sin is bad. And you don’t want to be bad, because you will go to hell. You don’t even believe in hell, yet, there is a small voice in your head that still worries about eternal damnation. Jeez, I should really see a therapist about that.

Perhaps it’s the misogyny and sexism, rampant and hard-wired into society and into mind’s since the beginning of time.

Your internal theological and philosophical debate gives you a throbbing headache.

+++

It’s Friday. Halloween falls on a Tuesday this year, so most Halloween celebrations would occur this weekend.

If you were still in college, you’d most likely attend a costume party at a frat party and drink until the sun came up. These days, you don’t recover from hangovers as easily and find the anxiety spiral that follows a night of drinking to be too debilitating so you’re planning on keeping it chill this year.

You’re pouring out a bag of candy into a bowl, so candy is easily accessible for your sweet tooth cravings when you hear a strong, loud cluster of knocks at your front door.

Knock. Knock. Knock-knock.

Shaking off your initial startling from the sudden knocks, you open your front door to find Joel. He’s leaning his shoulder on the doorframe, one half of his body bears all his weight. He swiftly straightens upright again when you greet him. He looks even more handsome from the last time you saw him. He’s wearing dark wash jeans that accentuate his body in the most delectable way and a black t-shirt with a faded MILLER CONSTRUCTION graphic that is just barely legible.

You have the urge to steal the well-worn shirt so you can sleep in it, relish his scent, and let it become a metaphorical embrace of Joel.

Fuck, I really am down bad, you internally scold yourself to come back to the present moment.

“Joel! Ho-how are you?” you manage to creak out through nerves and surprise.

His beautiful, dark brown eyes are staring right into yours. His eyes could compel you to do anything.

“I’m doin’ alright, you?” The word ‘alright’ is drawn out making it sound like “awllll-right”

“Can’t complain. Y’all settling in okay?” tilting your head unconsciously, as if to convey genuinity.

“Oh yeah, ‘s a nice neighborhood. Sarah seems to be enjoyin’ her new school, I was a lil worried she’d have a hard time but she’s a smart kid and gets along with pretty much everyone. Awful silly of me to worry in the first place…” he’s rambling, hands moving at the same pace as his speech.

You find his rambling to be cute, it’s a bit of a juxtaposition from his strong, demanding presence.

Joel realizes he’s nervous after he concludes his tangent. When’s the last time he felt nervous around women? Especially a sweet, non-threatening woman like you?

“Anywho, I came over to uh- ask you somethin’... Sarah liked your cookies so much she wants to learn how to make them herself and was wondering if you’d teach her?”

“I’d love to!” You shoot him a flattered smile, learning that Sarah wanted you to teach her to bake makes your heart sing.

Joel is amazed at you. You agreed to teach a twelve year old, one who you hardly know, to bake. He shouldn’t be surprised given your sweet demeanor and generous heart, but he’s in awe of you.

“You sure? I mean, you obviously don’t have to if you don’t want—”

“Joel, I’d be honored to. Send her over in an hour,” you cut him off, hoping to convey your delight in teaching someone else to bake, the same way your grandma did for you.

Joel can’t stop the shit-eating grin that appears on his face.

“Sounds good. I’ll send her your way, sweetheart,” he lingers just for a moment to watch your reaction to the nickname, the one he’s used twice.

You desperately try to keep your composure cool and collected, but you’ve never had a good poker face. You wear your emotions like an accessory. And right now, you are flustered. You divert your attention to the ground as if looking into his eyes would expose your every thought.

“O-okay!” You can barely stammer out a response before he is pivoting off your porch, back to his own house.

You can’t see it with his back turned to you, but Joel is smirking to himself and feeling amused at his effect on you.

+++

“You sure you don’t want me to go with you?”

“Yes, dad. I don’t need a chaperone to bake cookies. I’m a big girl now, remember?”

Yes, he is acutely aware that she is a big girl now. Well, not really, to him she will always be his baby girl, but that doesn’t stop her from growing up. Too fast for his liking. The idea of her becoming a teenager almost gives him a coronary. It won’t be long before she’s driving, then graduating, and college. What if she wants to attend a school in another state? Across the country?

He feels queasy at that thought, afraid that she will grow out of thinking her dad is the coolest, afraid that she doesn’t want to spend time with her old man anymore.

He wills himself to think about something else. Anything else. Inevitably his thoughts wander to you.

Joel hates to admit it, but he was hoping to join Sarah for the baking lesson. He wants an excuse to be in your radiant, sweet, beautiful presence again.

While you can’t stop thinking about him, he can’t stop thinking about you.

Driving home from work? You.

Making dinner? You.

Making his morning coffee? You.

Laying in bed? Oh, yeah. Definitely you.

Exactly one hour passes when Sarah arrives at your house. You’ve already set up in your kitchen in preparation; already pre-measured the ingredients, setting out all the necessary baking equipment and you even found a spare apron for Sarah to wear. Ya know, to give her the full experience.

“Oooh, this apron makes me feel like a professional!” Sarah exclaims after tying the strings on her designated apron.

“Well, after this, you will be.”

You can’t remember the last time you felt this much joy. Sharing a passion of yours with someone who is eager to learn from you delights your heart and soul in a way you didn’t know you needed until now.

“So first, we’ll need to combine the butter and sugar,” Sarah dumps the butter and sugar into the mixing bowl. “Great, now we want to beat the mixture until it looks fluffy.”

She is completely engrossed in watching for the desired texture, furrowing her brows together in a way that mimics Joel. You find it adorable.

“Excellent, now we are going to add in the eggs and vanilla extract.”

She follows your instructions to a T, meticulous and concentrated as if she were mixing hazardous chemicals in a lab.

“You’re doing great. Now let’s add our dry ingredients, half of it at a time.”

Her eyes light up when it’s time to fold in the chocolate chips. You both agree it’s the best part, both of you indulging in a few before adding them to the dough.

You assist Sarah in rolling the dough into little balls and placing them onto the baking sheet.

While waiting for the cookies to bake, you learn more about Sarah and Joel. She tells you about their old house, the camping trip they went on this past summer, the catchy pop songs on the radio that Joel will pretend to hate but she catches him humming the tune later, how Joel makes a big breakfast for the two of them every Sunday, a ritual they started when Sarah started school - he makes pancakes just for her.

Getting a snapshot of Joel and Sarah’s lives and their dynamic makes your mega crush on Joel that much bigger. From what Sarah has shared with you, he seems like a caring, protective yet fun dad. You’re aching to learn everything about him.

“Do you have any plans for Halloween?” Sarah asks as you’re pulling the baking sheet out of the oven.

“Oh um, I usually just hand out candy to trick-or-treaters. Nothing super exciting. What about you?”

“We always order pizza and watch a scary movie - nothing super scary though. We dress up too. Well, I dress up but dad thinks he is too cool to do that so he wears the same boring mask every year,” she has a mischievous grin on her face, concocting a plan when she asks, “do you want to come over and join us?”

On one hand you’d love nothing more than to spend more time with your new friend and Joel, but on the other hand the thought of being in the same room as Joel, in his house, makes you both anxious and aroused. Dizzy, nervous, and horny makes for an unpleasant combination.

Gaining a sliver of bravery, you swallow your apprehension and say yes.

“Sure, yeah, what time should I come over?”

“6:30. And you better wear a costume!”

+++

You’ve spent the past hour trying to put a costume together. Not making any progress, you decide to seek external advice - your best friend Katie.

You both met as freshman and have been close friends ever since, even rooming together in your first off-campus apartment. She moved to the West Coast shortly after graduation, though you still keep in touch via email and phone. You give her the scoop on Joel - him moving into the neighborhood, your gigantic crush on him, how you baked cookies with Sarah yesterday. She’s impatiently waiting for you to bone your hot neighbor. Girl, I’m waiting too.

“Do you still have that bunny costume you wore junior year?”

You rummage through your tote of seasonal clothing in search of said costume. Pulling it out, you now realize just how skimpy the costume really is. Bunny ears and a tail paired with a skin tight black bodysuit leaves virtually nothing to the imagination and definitely too much skin for this occasion.

“Dude, I can’t wear this! His daughter will be there! I can’t believe I wore this out in public. This is X-Rated,” you’re growing agitated in having no success in your costume, to the point that you are tempted to tell Sarah you came down with something so you don’t have to go.

“Okay, okay, the ears and tail are still salvageable. Do you have something besides the bodysuit?”

“Ummm…” you trail off into the phone, frantically searching for something to replace the risque bodysuit. You find a plain white baby tee amongst the sea of clothing, deciding you can pair it with your favorite jeans, the ones that accentuate your body in all the right places.

“This could work..” muttering to yourself when a devious thought pops into your head. White shirt, no bra.

“Found it! Gotta go, loveyoubye!” You hang up the call before Katie has a chance to respond, tossing your pink Razr on your bed. Your body hums in anticipation and jitters, feeling emboldened by your no bra plot.

After throwing on your outfit, you style your hair differently than you normally do. You add several coats of mascara to your lashes, sweep on some blush that complements your skin and add a sparkly lip gloss to your lips, making them appear extra plump and juicy.

You grab a bag of Halloween candy and you practically skip across the street. Reaching the front door of your new bestie and her gorgeous dad, your confidence is replaced with a furious ball of anxiety. Your heart is palpitating and you feel your stomach churn.

Would Joel think you looked stupid? Or worse, childish? Fuck, you should’ve stayed home.

Joel opening the door snaps you out of your thought spiral but only briefly, because he’s staring at you like you’ve started growing extra limbs. He looks both puzzled and pissed?

“What uh-what’re you doing here?”

His voice has a sharpness you haven’t heard before and it stings.

You have a moment of realization.

Sarah didn’t run the invitation by her dad.

You deduct that he isn’t a fan of surprises.

Before you can formulate a response, Sarah saves you from having to do so.

“You dressed up! I’m glad you came,” she squeals while wrapping her arms around your middle in an embrace.

She looks up at Joel from where she’s latched onto you and gives her confused dad an explanation.

“Dad, it’s okay, I invited her.”

That seems to alleviate his confusion. You, on the other hand, not so much. You’re internally screaming at yourself. It’s obvious to you that Joel wasn’t expecting you, and in conclusion, doesn’t want you here.

“I didn’t mean to impose, I—I’m sorry, I’ll uh— just go back home,” fighting back tears of embarrassment, looking everywhere except at Joel. You think now is a superb time to move across the country, change your name, dye your hair, somewhere far away from this humiliation.

Joel senses you’re feeling rejected in some way.

“No, no, come on in. Jus’ wasn’t expectin’ you s’all,” he gives you his most reassuring smile.

You swallow the lump of emotions in your throat.

He didn’t expect you to come over, nor did he expect you’d show up as his personal version of a Playboy bunny. He almost busted in his jeans when he could see your nipples through your very thin white t-shirt. He thinks you’re trying to kill him.

+++

You’re starting to relax once you three settle on the couch, Sarah nestling between you and Joel, Alien on the TV. Turns out, you and Joel share a love for the film. You may or may not have gotten into a heated (playful) debate about the other films in the franchise.

Joel gets an influx of trick-or-treaters, more than you usually get, residents of the neighborhood taking advantage of this opportunity to be nosy. Again.

In between costume clad visitors, you sneak glances at Joel, who looks absolutely scrumptious tonight. His hair had been damp and combed back when you arrived, his curls now almost dry and in all their glory. He’s wearing an obviously well-loved, faded Pearl Jam concert tee that clings to his arms and grey sweatpants that sit dangerously low on his hips. You wonder if all his shirts fit like that. When he stands, you can see the outline of his dick through his sweatpants. You have to manually restrain yourself from pouncing on him. You’re soaking through your panties and you’re a little worried that if you stand, the seat beneath you will be soaked too.

The scent of his body wash invades your nostrils, a heavenly mix of sandalwood and cinnamon. You’re imagining yourself running your hands through his hair and burying your nose into his neck, alternating between kissing and sucking on the skin there. You want to taste every inch of his skin, taking your time to savor him.

Joel’s stealing glances at you, too. He’s never seen someone look so sweet and seductive, divine even. You smell warm and sweet, amber and vanilla. Not the artificial, manufactured type vanilla scent, it’s like vanilla straight from the bean. When you readjust your position on the couch to get more comfortable, your tits lightly bounce, unrestrained by a bra. He has to stifle a groan, disguising it as a cough. He wonders how much they’d bounce if you were riding his cock. Your lips are absolutely sinful. Pouty and plump, juicy from the lip gloss. The bunny ears are the nail in his coffin. He’s picturing you bent over on his couch, still wearing the bunny ears as he devours your pussy from behind.

Only a quarter of the way through the movie, a few of Sarah’s friends from her old school pop in to invite her over for an impromptu sleepover to which Joel agrees to, since they no longer go to school together.

Which means you and Joel are left alone. Together. Your body is aching to close space between you and the man you’re enamored with. You don’t know that Joel is itching to do the same.

“Sarah couldn��t stop talkin’ bout yesterday. She loved hangin’ out with ya, thanks again for doin’ that.”

“She’s welcome to come over anytime. She’s a sweet kid,” you’re beaming at the fact she enjoyed baking with you. Joel notices the way your eyes gleam, overflowing with delight.

You finally have the courage to meet his eyes. The way his eyes are raking over your entire body makes your clit throb in anticipation. Your heartbeat is erratic, thumping loudly in your ears.

The energy in the room is magnetic, pulling you and Joel closer together.

“You can uh-scoot closer t’me if ya want,” he gruffs out, beckoning you to scoot closer to him. Joel wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but you make him feel like a flustered teenage boy about to kiss a girl for the first time.

You scoot closer to Joel, hoping he doesn’t notice your body trembling from nerves.

With your body flush next to his, he stretches one of his toned arms behind your head, resting it on the back of the couch. You can feel the warmth radiating from his body and it sends a shiver down your spine, straight to your aching core.

The tension in the air is palpable, both of your bodies buzzing in arousal. You’re both pretending to watch the movie in front of you, but your minds are elsewhere. He gently removes his arm from the couch and rests it across your shoulders. It’s a seemingly innocuous gesture, but its impact makes you clench around nothing, more arousal dripping into your panties.

He leans his head down close to yours, his mouth behind your ear.

“No bra? You’re a naughty lil bunny aren’t ya?” His hot breath tickles your ear, your eyes clamp shut involuntarily and you whimper. A high-pitched, whiny whimper, and Joel’s never heard anything sweeter.

He places his other large palm on your thigh, gently squeezing it. Your skin prickling in goosebumps and your nipples are hard enough to cut glass. The wetness pooled in your panties is beyond the point of comfort.

Joel presses a chaste kiss behind your ear, eliciting another whimper from you. He peppers kisses from your neck all the way to your collarbones.

“This okay?”

“Mhmmm…” You’re already so keyed up you feel hazy. Your whole body feels hot, lit aflame by Joel’s lips on your skin.

“You gonna be a good girl for me?” he rasps while his hand is caressing your thigh, intentionally not too close to where you want him. Need him.

“Mhmmm,” you moan, still unable to form words, arousal taking over all of your bodily functions.

“Need you to use your words, honey.” He squeezes your thigh again.

He pulls his face back from your neck to look you in the eyes, and slows his movements on your thigh so you can tell him to back off or give him the green light to continue. You grab his hand on your thigh and squeeze it, to keep him from removing it.

“Joel, pleeease. Want it so bad. Need you so fuckin’ bad.”

You beg in the most sultry voice you can muster, emphasizing every syllable.

Your lust laden eyes and the way you mewl for him ignites something ravenous, primal, carnal in him. He hasn’t heard you cuss before and it sounds so filthy in your honeyed voice. His rock hard cock twitches in his pants.

He presses his plush lips against yours. It’s hesitant at first, but his apprehension dissipates when you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him back with fervor. Joel deepens the kiss, one hand gripping your hip, the other hand splayed between your shoulder blades, pressing your body further into his. You tangle one of your hands in his luscious curls. He tastes like sweet peppermint and a hint of black coffee. You feel dizzy, tasting him, finally feeling him.

He breaks the kiss, guiding you to lie down on your back and props your head up on one of the couch armrests.

He’s looking down at you and he’s never seen anything more beautiful. You’re always pretty, effortlessly so. But seeing you underneath him, sweet and desperate for him? He’d do anything you ask him to.

“You’re the prettiest lil bunny. So fuckin’ pretty.”

You’re bashful under his gaze and his compliment, cheeks burning.

Joel notices you trying to shy away and he places a thumb under your chin, forcing you to keep looking at him.

Now you feel embarrassed for trying to shy away in the first place.

“Sorry I’m—”

“Nothing to ‘pologize for, sweetheart,” he’s caressing your chin with his thumb, alleviating all of the embarrassment from you.

“Wanna taste you. You’ve no idea how bad I’ve wanted to taste you. Needed to know if you were as sweet as your cookies.”

“Oh, fuck,” you breathe out, “yes - yes please, taste me, Joel”

He chuckles softly at your enthusiasm and promptly rids you of your jeans, making the leather of the couch feel cool to the back of your thighs.

Joel lets out a guttural moan when he sees your sky blue satin panties soaked through. He runs a finger over the damp spot, making you quiver. His touch is featherlight and it’s maddening. You’re squirming, hips lifting off the couch, chasing for more.

He obliges, running a finger over your clit with added pressure.

“Joel, please–” You’re a whiny mess under him, and he’s just getting started. He’s rubbing gentle circles over your bud, still-panty clad.

He presses a kiss on your belly, just below your navel. The tenderness makes your body shudder.

He finally removes your panties and you gasp when the cool air hits your throbbing pussy.

“Pretty girl with a pretty pussy to match.” Joel’s admiring the way your pussy is glistening for him, begging to be touched.

He runs a finger through your drenched seam, your juices dripping onto his thick digit. He licks his finger, then shoves it into his mouth so he can taste every drop. His eyes clamp shut, groaning at how you taste. You commit the image to memory, not wanting to forget how he looks and sounds when he tastes you for the first time.

“Knew you’d taste sweet. So fuckin’ sweet.”

Your brain short circuits when you realize that means he’s thought about this before. That he’s imagined how you’d taste. Picturing him fantasizing about you makes you light-headed.

Joel spreads your legs wider, giving him full access to your pussy. He dives in without warning, licking from entrance up to your clit.

“Fuck, Joel!” You hoarsely shout with one hand gripping the couch cushion and one tugging onto Joel’s messy curls. His beard scratches the sensitive skin of your pussy as you grind your hips into his mouth, desperate for release.

You see stars while he expertly alternates between flicking his tongue and sucking on your clit. He’s keeping a steady rhythm, on the slower side, taking his time pleasuring you. He’s enjoying this.

Obscene sounds fill the room; Joel devouring your pussy like it’s the Last Supper and your chorus of moans and expletives.

“Fuck, don’t stop, don’t you fucking stop!”

“Shitshitshit–”

“Joelllll-”

He picks up the pace, your fingers cramping from their deathgrip on the couch. You feel your peak approaching - sweat beading on your forehead, chest heaving, head thrown back in ecstasy.

Joel senses your approaching release and pushes one of his thick, dexterous fingers into your weeping hole.

He reaches for your hand that’s tangled in his hair and intertwines your fingers with his, resting your connected hands on your inner thigh. It’s overwhelming; the intimacy of your interlocked fingers paired with the filthy onslaught of his mouth.

He speeds up as he adds another finger, hitting the spot that no one except you has reached before. You never knew it could feel this amazing. You thought you were doomed to a life of bad sex.

Apparently, you just needed Joel to show you differently. And you are so glad he proved you wrong.

Joel hooks his fingers inside you bringing you closer and closer to that peak you’ve been dying to reach. You’re squeezing his fingers, both the ones inside you and the ones interlaced with yours.

“Joel I-I’m close,” you manage to choke out, mind foggy from the intense pleasure.

He sucks on your clit, hard and you’re coming, entering a euphoric plane of existence. You’re floating, body trembling, coming harder than you’ve ever come before.

Joel slows his fingers and removes his mouth from your pussy, beard glistening with your release, gently bringing you back to reality. He keeps your fingers locked with his, grounding you in the present.

The orgasmic fog clears from your brain, regaining awareness of your surroundings when you feel how drenched your lower half is. Like, really drenched. You lift your head from the armrest and look down and you’re appalled by the scene.

You fucking squirted. Everywhere.

On yourself, on the couch, on Joel. His beard is soaked completely, to the point it’s dripping down his chin. He’s just as stunned as you are.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, fuck I-” you’re scrambling to get off the couch and Joel grabs your arm, stopping you in your tracks.

“What’re you sorry for? That was so fuckin’ hot, sweetheart.”

“I-I didn’t know I could do that…”

“Oh yeah? First time ever squirtin’?

“Yeah, the first time anyone else has made me come… like, ever.”

His gaze goes dark.

You get the feeling that he’s just getting started with you.

And just like your cookies, he’d never have enough.

THE END

#joel miller #joel fic #joel x f!reader #fanfic #first fanfic #joel miller is babygirl #joel miller smut

255 notes · View notes

your-local-hoemie · 11 months

Note

I saw your praise nsfw post so may i request it with thoma and zhongli next :p

NS!FW. 18+ ONLY!

Come and feed, children. The food is ✨spicy✨

Sorry this took so long!! I’m feeling a lot better now so my creative brain juices are flowin’ again uwu.

Summary: Genshin boy’s with a reader who likes to be praised (just incase ya’ll didn’t see the previous request)

Warnings: Ns!fw, soft smut, public spice (Zhongli), Zhongli also gets a ego™️, swearing, established relationship, Gn!reader, not proof-read, I don’t know what else to put hdjfhdj.

Characters: Zhongli, Thoma.

Zhongli~

I headcanon that this man is one of the most innocent about sex.

Like he knows about it and he knows what it’s for but he’s never had the need to look into it before you.

He’s a little confused at first but he got the spirit.

It doesn’t last long though because his godlike ego inFLATES.

When you moan out his name just a little louder after he praises you, my man couldn’t stop.

Instant turn on.

He enjoys being worshiped after all wink wink

Your relationship with zhongli was extremely honest.

There wasn’t a thing about you that the other didn’t know.

At least so he thought.

Little did he know you’d been hiding the fact that whenever he praised you for doing something, Your heartbeat went just a little bit faster.

One night after coming back from a special anniversary date, your conversation changed to a more intimate topic.

You and Zhongli had done the do once or twice before but you were just too busy with your commissions to have much time or energy to get all steamy, which Zhongli; being the gentleman he is, understood!

So when the conversation started about being a little more intimate, you shyly happened to mention that you really, really liked it when he praised you. A switch in him flipped.

He already enjoyed giving his people praise when it was due.

He was used to them almost begging to be acknowledged by the great geo archon!

But now he’s retired. The only person he wants to show that praise and appreciation for, is you.

So now, you were a little surprised to say the least when you found yourself pressed up against his statue while his fingers worked their magic on your sex, while his pretty lips left equally pretty marks on your neck and shoulder.

Something about the way you squirmed and whimpered out his name whenever he did praise you, sent sparks shooting up his body.

“You’re being so good, darling”

“How does it feel to have your archon praise you like this?”

“Such sweet sounds you make, dear. Why don’t you moan a little louder for your god~”

Needless to say that walking home is definitely going to be a challenge.

Good thing your boyfriend is more than happy to carry you back, all while whispering more praises and all the things he has in store for you when you get home~

Thoma~

Ok ok, hear me out.

I think Thoma has a slightly kinky side to him.

He’s such a sweet, precious boy that he has to have some way he lets out any frustrations that he’s been too kind to bring up to others!

Not to mention, he’s so incredibly in love with you that he’ll do his best to make sure you feel good no matter what!

He also is very much into praising, so if you start doing the same to him while he’s praising you then things will get very spicy, very fast!

You and Thoma were slowly being recognised and Inazuma’s cutest couple.

You worked together as a team almost all the time. Helping people with any problems they had and just generally helping to keep the place as issue free as possible!

That doesn’t mean that I’d was always easy though. Sometimes things would just go wrong for no reason and it left the both of you feeling… frustrated.

And today was one of those days. You had both accidentally over slept leaving not time for your usual morning hugs or kisses before Thoma had to rush off to the Kamisato estate and you had to hurry over to the adventures guild to pick up your daily commissions!

After that things just seemed to go down hill. Not for any particular reason other than you were both just really pent up for some reason and it just kept getting worse.

So you couldn’t really say you were surprised when later that night, Thoma had you sitting on the table, legs around his waste while thrusting his pretty hips into you~

Nothing but both of your moans and curses could be heard throughout your house, along with the soft creaking of the wooden table underneath you while Thoma lovingly nuzzles his face into the crook of you neck.

“Archons, y/n. You feel so good!”

“I needed this so badly, please don’t stop!”

“You look so pretty while I’m inside you, sweetheart!”

After a little while you could help but start giving him praises as well, causing him to rut even more into you while letting out the prettiest of whimpers.

Definitely Inazuma’s cutest couple~

Bruh I’m taking care of a injured baby bird and it’s so loud, like I’m happy it’s recovering but my dude please chill I’m autistic T-T

558 notes · View notes

rosewaterandivy · 6 months

Text

got lovesick all over my bed

Summary: it might be worth it for once.

Warnings: facetime shenanigans, rockstar!gf had one too many glasses of merlot, my usual brand of filth™️

a/n: be a slut, do whatever you want!

🎶 everyone wants him, that was my crime, the wrong place at the right time 🎶

It was stupid.

Borne of desperation and one too many glasses of red wine, and it seemed like a good idea at the time.

Steve was off filming for the next few weeks and you were back in an empty house in Laurel Canyon. You tried, unsuccessfully, to not be a bitter Betty about it all; oh, woe is me! My incredibly talented boyfriend has to go back to work.

Were you even his girlfriend?

Jesus Christ.

It’s been what, less than two weeks and you’re already spiralling.

Shuffling from the couch you pocket your phone and try to ignore the desire to double-text.

Hey

Could you be any more pathetic? Hadn’t even “defined the relationship,” whatever that meant, and already slipping. You know he’s busy, on-set, and suffering through night shoots in the desert somewhere.

Leaning against the island of your kitchen, you uncork some wine and pour it into a glass. Watching as the crimson liquid sloshes against the curved glass, you idly wonder if you should seal the deal and live your best Olivia Pope fantasy by having popcorn for dinner.

Before you could think better of it, you felt the subtle vibration of your phone in your pocket,

S.H.: Hey yourself

wow, so clever

wow, so bratty

You bit your lip and took a sip of wine in an attempt to quell the low swoop of your stomach.

The texts were intermittent for the next hour or so before he was called back to set. It was a nice distraction from the utter lack of plans you had for the evening. Your producer had sent over the final mix of your new album that you needed to proof and sign off on, so that was the plan while Steve was off filming for the next few hours.

He’d asked if he could call you later, once filming wrapped for the evening and you’d agreed not realizing that it would be nearing 2 a.m. and you’d be half a bottle in.

Settled back in your bedroom freshly showered and laptop atop the duvet cover, you’re only briefly startled when the FaceTime ring trills out.

“Shit!”

You quickly pause the song you were listening through and hope you look halfway decent before answering Steve’s call. Mussing your hair, you minimize the image of yourself and enlarge the one of him.

“Hey sweetheart.”

Steve smiles slow and sweet, huffing a laugh at your poor attempts at primping.

“Stop messing with your hair, you look great.”

“Uh huh,” you brush off with a smirk, “Watch me make red wine drunk the next trendy TikTok look.”

He looks to be back at the Palm Springs house, settled against the headboard of the bed that you swore was going to fall off the wall from the sheer amount of times he’d fucked you into the mattress the last time you visited.

Your skin warms at the thought.

“Can’t wait.” He smiles and takes a screenshot as you flip him off, he’s always doing shit like that— his iPhone or one of his many film cameras or, your least favorite, FaceTime. Says he has to have up-to-date photos of you for the Missing Person posters he'll make once the coyotes finally get you out in the Canyon.

What a dork.

“How was your day?”

“Oh fine,” you say with a sigh. “Did a whole bunch of nothing, showered, I was proofing the final tracks for the album and then you called.”

“Oh,” he pulls a face, grimacing because he thinks he’s disrupted you at work, “I can fuck off if you—”

“Harrington, if you finish that sentence I swear to god—”

“Fine, fine,” he relents with a chuckle and runs a hand through his hair, knocking the glasses off of his head. “So that’s where these went.”

You roll your eyes, this man, honestly.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, just tired is all.” He heaves a sigh. “These night shoots are the fucking worst.”

You hum, “I can imagine. The cold desert at night?” You blow a raspberry, “And you’re worried about coyotes carrying me off?”

“I have a vested interest in your safety, y’know.”

“Oh, I’m well aware.” You tease, taking another sip of wine. “I got thick thighs and a fat ass, and the only person I want to eat me is you.”

“Aww, I’m touched.” Steve laughs, hand to his heart. “Look at you, gettin’ all sappy and borderline cannibalistic over FaceTime.”

“I know,” you demure and bat your lashes. “I’m so emotionally mature.” Setting the glass on the nightstand, you lean forward inadvertently giving him a generous view of your tits.

“Anyway,” you sit back against the pillows of your bed. “What’re you wearing, honey?”

It’s like his brain glitches for a moment or two, and he needs to reboot.

“Uh,” he glances down with a furrowed brow. “Boxer briefs.”

“Thrilling.”

Could it be that Steve’s never done something like this before? It hadn’t been exactly discussed between you, but he was looking so delectable and you missed him so much.

Fuck it.

“What about you?”

A slow smile splits your face, a waggle of your brows. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Instead of a verbal reply, you pan the camera down to display your latest lingerie acquisition— pale pink and adorned with tasteful floral embroidery, because Steve is a sucker like that. You can hear him swallow and his shallow breaths from the speakers.

“D’ya like it?”

“Fuck.”

There was a rustling sound as he settled more comfortably on the bed. The room lights were dimmed casting shadows across his bronzed skin, an errant lock of hair falling in his face. His voice was so low when it came through the speakers that it sent heat straight to the pit on your stomach, “Wish you were here.”

“Me too baby,” you purr and set the macbook further down on your bed. “Tell you what,” you say taking a final sip of wine, “Why don’t you go ahead and record this for those lonely desert nights, hmm?”

His eyes nearly fall out of his skull. “Y’sure?”

“Course I am handsome.”

He was leaned over in front of the camera, undoubtedly attempting to prop it up on something and hit record.

“Gonna be good for me?” you rasp when he comes back into view, “Let me take my time with you?”

Steve nods, eyes finding yours as his breaths even out. You watched him hook his thumbs into the band of the boxer briefs and drag them down his toned thighs on screen. His hard length sprung to his stomach once the waistband passed his tip, hard and thick where it lay. You licked your lips.

He took himself slow, his fist tight at his tip as he slid down his length at an excruciating pace. That was how he usually slid into you, savoring that first push as you surround his cock in your warmth.

Your core fluttered in time with the stroke of his palm, slow and deep passes up and down his length that would no doubt feel like ecstasy inside you.

“Feel good baby?”

You own hand skates down your torso, lingering here and there before ever so gently brushing against your clit.

“Thinkin’ about my pretty mouth wrapped around your cock?”

He let out a moan, eyes rolling back at a particularly good stroke.

Fingers stuttering over your clothed clit, your free hand snakes behind you to unclasp the bra and let it fall down your arms.

You watched as he fell back fully on the bed, his hand picking up pace as the other reached down to cup his balls. A choked moan came from the screen followed by even more hushed words.

“Miss you daddy,” you whine. “Want your big cock fucking my mouth n’ gettin’ me all messy.”

Barely able to swallow around your dry mouth, you watched him lift his head and watched his hand stroke his length. Steve’s face was obscene; eyebrows furrowed deeply and mouth hanging open in pleasure.

You were overstimulated if anything, never imagining you would have such a visual of him getting off while you were beyond wet, almost uncomfortably so. Your clit pulsed as you caught on screen Steve moan a choked fuck as he writhed on his borrowed bed.

Fingers pressing headily against your clit, you rubbed tight circles around the slick bud at the sight on the screen. Couldn’t remember the last time you’d been this wet for long-distance sex, no matter the hour. Dipping your fingers beneath the lace of your underwear, the slick of your slit wetting your fingertips.

A small whimper left your lips as the contact, wishing that they were Steve’s fingers slipping through your folds instead.

“Fuck, I’m so wet for you.”

He cursed deeply as he slowed his pace, mostly likely trying to hold out from coming too soon. Everything made it hard for you to articulate what you wanted at that moment.

On screen Steve brought you back, his head tilted back as he pumped his length beautifully. You could see his stomach tensing. You could see the tops of his thighs jumping before they disappeared from the camera’s view where they hung off the edge of the bed. You could see his jaw clench every time his tight fist circled his tip. The sound of him spit slick and stroking himself was so lewd paired with his pants and moans.

While you were enamored with the screen, the fingers of your free hand brushed your nipples. You couldn’t stop your gasp if you wanted to. Every touch had your cunt clenching and begging for attention.

You could tell he was close, and kept teasing your skin but refrained from dipping a finger into your slit. Your breathing was labored, soft whines elicited from the back of your throat as on screen Steve moaned your name.

“So pretty daddy, wanna see you come so bad.”

He was breathless at hearing your words, the low rasp of your voice filtering through the speakers. Fuck, does he miss you.

You sigh again, whimper like a little punctuation, sheets rustling. “Thinkin’ bout your tongue and how wet you make me,” and your voice is so low, so needy, “I wish you were here. Touching me all over.” And the picture in his mind of you, so pretty and open, wild at the mere memory of him—

“Keep going. Think about me riding you, baby. Slow at first, how you like, taking you a little bit at a time. You’re always so hard.”

There it is, egging his own fist on to match the pace of a subtle and steady sluiced-up rhythm, your fingers working over, inside, back out, twisting and turning.

He’s lost in the way his heart pounds all the harder at the sounds you make because it means you’ve let yourself go. How you’d scramble for his fingers next, lacing them through yours, squeezing him there and everywhere.

And oh, how exquisite you look with that sheen of sweat across your chest. Hovering over him like a goddess and fucking him like a wet dream.

“Baby,” red lip pulled pale between his teeth, hands working in tandem—imitation and imagination constructing a well-oiled machine in your absence. “Baby, fuck. Miss you on me—miss you fucking me. God–”

“Yeah? Gonna come?” You’re panting, too, noises high and obscene, the background echo of your hand growing more frantic and unrestrained. “Me too, pretty boy. I want to do everything with you—have all of you. Your hands, your mouth, your cock.”

It’s all too fast. Your words, his words, your hands, his hands. Feels like he’s barely started when his eyes roll back against his lids. He’s spilling out, over his fist, up his clenched abdomen, body pulled tight, panting heavy and hard as he tugs at himself a few more times, breathing and listening, heart rattling against his ribcage when you whimper one last time.

Watching him come was enough to bring you hurtling over the edge, fingers pumping messily in and out of your sopping cunt, imagining yourself there and clenching around him instead. Your eyes flutter close, your release drenching your hand.

Steve aches then. His eyes flutter open. Heat smothered cold and lonesome like the embers of a dying fire. His neck hurts. His heart hurts.

“Babe,” you say and he hears it in you, too—the same ache, the same want. Like at the end of every call you’ve made to him since you’d left Palm Springs.

“When you get back,” you sigh, the telltale mantle of sleep falling over you, “I’m gonna let you know just how much I miss you.”

He’s hot all over, chasing the ghost of your doting kisses, the phantom touch of your skillful hands. “Jesus, sweetheart.”

A cheeky wink followed by a sleepy wave, and then you’re gone.

He closes out of FaceTime and types out a text to Robin.

Need an appointment with Lorraine Schwartz ASAP pls.

And if he peruses the jeweler’s instagram studying engagement rings for the next hour, well, no one needs to know.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington smut #stranger things fanfiction #modern!actor steve #hmlhr #Spotify

175 notes · View notes

bbyboybucket · 1 year

Text

Beds

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: While sharing a hotel room with Reader, Bucky has a nightmare.

A/N: Surprise. Bet y’all didn’t expect a fic from me. How longs it been? Too long. Anyways, I’m rewriting one of my old fics, or more so taking the same concept but doing it more in character. Also I think this is the first time I’ve written something where we don’t see Bucky’s pov, so I think that’s kinda fun. Btw I’m rusty so don’t judge me if it shows. Also I think this is gender neutral but I’m not sure?

Warnings: language, sexual references, nightmares, ptsd, panic attack (not too intense), allusions to some hydra stuff but nothing graphic, hurt/comfort, frenemies to lovers, Bucky is moody, the one bed trope™️, no use of “y/n”, kinda sappy

—————————

A loud sigh came from the left of you just before the elevator dinged and the metal doors creaked open. You ignored him, you chose not to engage in his passive aggressiveness. You weren’t going to accept the invitation of a petty rant hiding behind that sigh.

You walked down the hallway with Bucky stalking behind you, like an angry pitbull trailing after its owner.

“I don’t even know why we got a fucking hotel in the first place.” Bucky grumbled, and you could practically feel the weight of his eye roll, even though you couldn't see it.

“Here we go.” You muttered under your breath. “What did you want? A safe house? It’s not like we’re on some high stakes, undercover op. Anything more than a hotel would be excessive.”

“Anything more woulda had better sleeping options.” He whined. “Coulda at least got us separate rooms.”

“My god, give it a rest Bucky, you’ve been complaining all day about this.” You we’re exasperated, it was about the third time you’d heard him gripe that day.

“Well, I’m not a fan. Us sharing is the stupidest fucking idea Sam’s ever had.”

“Bitching about it isn’t gonna change anything. And, it’s not like we have to sleep together or anything, I’ll be in a whole different bed.” You said, unlocking the room door. You had been looking forward to chilling out and resting, but as soon as you entered the room, you realized that your night would be anything but restful.

“Fuck.” You laughed, humorlessly, knowing you were about to hear an endless rant. “I take that back, there isn’t different beds.”

Surprisingly that rant didn’t come. Bucky weirdly seemed calmer than he had before and merely shrugged. “‘S fine. I’ll take the floor.”

“Well, one of us can try the couch?”

“That thing could fit a toddler at best.” He gestured towards the small leather love seat as if it was the most ridiculous suggestion he had ever heard, and in all honesty, he had a point.

You pinched the skin between your eyebrows. “Sam said he booked a two person room.”

He shrugged again and then blankly said. “This is why he shoulda booked separate rooms.”

“My god Bucky, I’m not that bad of a roommate. I don’t snore, I don’t sleep walk, and it’s not like I’m gonna kill you in your sleep. It’s one fucking night. Just-“ You took a deep breath and tried to mellow out. “You can have the bed.”

“No, you can have it.”

“You’re obviously more tore up about this than me, so it’s yours. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“No.” He refused, his eyes held an odd stubbornness. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“I literally don’t care, I’ve done it a million times. Plus, your grumpy ass probably needs some good sleep.” You half teased, trying to do the nice thing. You unzipped your bag and pulled your belongings out. “I’m gonna go change clothes.”

When you came back from the bathroom, Bucky was already in his boxers and a T-shirt, positioning a pillow and blanket on the floor.

“I told you the bed was yours.”

“Okay, and?”

“Why are you getting down there?“

“Why the fuck are you arguing?”

“Because you’re all pissy about this whole situation, so I’m trying to make your life easier and give you the bed.” You didn’t understand his defiance and odd aversion to the thing he’d been complaining about restlessly: the better sleeping option.

“I don’t want the goddamn bed, just shut the fuck up about it!” Bucky snapped. His outburst caught you off guard, he acted as if you had been purposefully pushing his buttons.

“Damn, fine.” You held your hands up in defeat, almost offended at the way he lashed out. “I get you’re trying to be all gentlemen-like but ya know, the aggressiveness defeats the purpose.”

“It’s not about being a gentlemen. Don’t get it twisted, I’m not being nice, I-“ He grunted. “Never mind I don’t owe you a fuckin’ explanation. Just get in bed.”

“I will, thank you, cause I’m tired. Especially tired of whatever the fuck is up your ass and has you so bitchy.”

You said it with full sincerity, of course you were used to bickering with Bucky but it always was in a playful manner, even when annoyed with each other, it was always friendly fire. There had been no sign of that all afternoon, Bucky was purely hostile and treating you like his greatest burden.

“You running your damn mouth and arguing isn’t helping anything.” He spat as he turned off the lights.

“Wow, sorry. Didn’t know offering you the bed was so fucking rude and offensive.”

“Shut the fuck up.” He groaned.

You muttered “fucking dick” under your breath.

“I heard that.”

As you settled into the bed, you couldn't help but roll your eyes in frustration. You found yourself pondering what you could have possibly done to provoke such a strong reaction from him. You couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't entirely about you. Maybe something else was going on and you were standing in as Bucky’s punching bag, just being the unfortunate catheter for his anger.

It didn’t matter. You had to force all the worry and aggravation out of your head because his attitude wasn’t worth losing sleep over. The last thing you need was to be exhausted on a mission.

—————————

You were jolted awake by a sudden, loud gasp, followed by a soft groan emanating from his direction. Rubbing your eyes, you opened them to find him sitting upright, his knees drawn close to his chest. He looked so small, a stark contrast to the huge stature and borderline intimidating presence you’d become so familiar with. His breathing was audible despite the distance between you, it was quick and shallow.

“Buck?” You concernedly called out to him but he didn’t answer. You then got out of bed, and flicked on the nightstand lamp.

“Bucky?” You tried again when you were closer.

Out of all the time you’d known Bucky, this was the first you’d seen him vulnerable. He was trembling harshly, hyperventilating too. He seemed equally dazed and terrified, but also distant as if he were lost in his head. You always thought Bucky had rather sad eyes but right now, the way they were widened with fear and slightly watering, took it to a whole new level.

You knew what was happening and seeing it felt like a stab to the heart. You slowly sat down in front of him, keeping space between you as to not worsen his panic.

“Buck, it’s okay.” You cooed. “Can you hear me right now?”

His gaze shifted to you, finally making eye contact, which gave you an answer.

“Okay, can you try to breathe with me? Deep breath…in 1…2…3” You exaggeratedly took large, slow inhale to lead him. “Out 1…2…3…”

You repeated the example, guiding until he finally started to follow along with you. “Good, you’re doing good. Do you know where you are?”

“….hotel. We’re on a mission?”

“Good, that’s right, good. It’s okay. You’re safe.” With a gentle and caring tone, you spoke to him, hoping to bring a sense of peace to the turmoil that was raging within him. Your heart felt heavy as you seen the pain that was laced within him, and you wished so badly that you could erase it all. You’d been scared you weren’t doing the right things, but his increasing improvement made you more confident.

“Can I touch you?”

He nodded.

You supportively placed your hand on top of his, stroking your thumb over his skin in a soothing manner. He initially flinched but didn’t pull away. “Starting to calm down now?”

“Yeah.” He released a long heavy breath and wiped the wetness off his eyelids with his free hand.

You sat silently with him, providing that tender, tactile support as he as he worked to regain his composure and steady his breathing. As he gradually calmed down, you noticed the shame creeping over him, causing his cheeks to flush red and his gaze to avert from yours.

“I didn’t want you to see this shit.” He finally said after minutes of silence.

“It’s fine-“

“Fuckin embarrassing is what it is.”

“No, stuff happens. I’m not gonna judge, ya know? I understand. I know what having panic attacks is like.” You revealed in attempt to make him feel more seen.

He slightly shook his head, at himself instead of towards to you, but he stayed silent.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” He paused for a moment, he licked his lips and hung his head even lower. “‘M used to it. Get ‘em bout every night.”

“The panic attacks?”

“Nightmares. Those sometimes comes after though.”

“Oh.” You whispered, feeling like something in you had just shattered. “About hydra?”

“Yeah.”

“You wanna talk about it?” You offered carefully.

“Nothing you should hear. My head’s a fucked up place.” He laughed humorlessly.

“Try me.”

He hesitated for a moment, you assumed he was debating on wether or not he should trust you with such a heavy part of himself. “Basically all memories. Not so much dreams, more so just stuff that’s already happened. Flashbacks I guess.”

As his mouth parted to speak, only to close again, you knew that he wasn’t finished so you waited patiently, allowing him the time he needed to gather his thoughts.

“Most of the time it’s…you know…what I’ve done. People I’ve killed. It’s….of course it’s horrible. Pretty gruesome but uh….I’ve gotten better at dealing with those, it’s still….I just get em so much that I can calm down faster now. But sometimes…it’s the shit Hydra did to me and it’s just….I’d get punished a lot. Some kinda torture or beatings, I’ll spare you the details.”

You continued to stroke his hand and stayed silent, not wanting to push him.

“But uh…they had this chair. Um, I’d get strapped down and they’d electrocute me. That’s how they’d…ya know. And I’d always end up there for a wipe after I fucked up. Or even if I didn’t. I don’t what’s worse honestly…the sick twisted shit they’d come up with or the wipe but…but reliving all that….”

“That’s fucking terrifying.”

“Yeah. Yeah, terrifying is an understatement. Sometimes…it’s hard to feel safe after that.”

His breathing started to pick up again. The cracks in his voice made it clear he was starting to get overwhelmed.

You then firmly grasped his hand, giving it a supportive squeeze. “It’s okay, you don’t have to keep going if you don’t want to.”

“I don’t like to think about all that. I try to never actually. It’s like…obviously it’s…I can’t describe how fucking awful. But at the same time, if I do think about it, it’s like I’m ignoring all the evil shit I’ve done. And that’s not fair to everyone I’ve wronged. So then….if I never think about or deal with the torture….when I have to relive it in these goddamn nightmares…it just fucks me up worse. And my fucking luck is one of the few times it happens is when I’m sharing a room with someone.”

Your heart sank to the floor, your own eyes were watering at this point from getting just this small glimpse of his pain. “I’m so sorry, Buck. Hell, I don’t even know what to say right now. I wish I could do more to help.”

“You’re doing enough.“

“You didn’t deserve it, ya know? I don’t know everything that went on but you never deserved to suffer like that.”

“Half-debatable. At certain point it had to become karma for the suffering I was causing myself.” He shrugged solemnly.

“That’s not true. You had no control.”

He sighed exasperatedly, filled with a sad frustration directed at himself. He put his face in his palm. “We’ve had that conversation. You already know I don’t see it that way.”

“Yeah but I hope one day you will. And I’ll die before I stop trying to get it through your head that you’re innocent. You know you’re strong, right? So damn strong to be holding it together right now. After going through all that pain and to still be here and be a good man? To come as far as you have. I’ve never met anyone as strong as you.”

“We can agree to disagree but I appreciate it….and thanks sitting with me and calming me down and all that.”

“Of course.”

“I’m sorry about earlier. This is why…I didn’t wanna share. And this is….one…of the reasons I don’t like sleeping in a bed. Makes the nightmares worse sometimes. That’s not your fault though, so I shouldn’t’ve…I just didn’t want you to know.”

“It’s alright. I get it now.”

“I shouldn’t’ve took it out on you. I really am sorry.”

“Buck, I get why you were upset. Well kinda, I honestly can’t imagine even a fraction of what you go through.”

“Goin a little far with the pity.” He grew a tiny smirk.

“Compassion.” You corrected. “And I can’t help it, I mean…not to get all sappy, but I care about you. A lot.”

His smirk morphed into a smile and you mirrored it. You wrapped your arm around him and laid your head on his shoulder, Bucky then slowly encircled you with his own arms. You knew the hug was Bucky's way of wordlessly affirming that he cared about you too.

“Didn’t know Mr. Grumpy was capable of hugging.”

“Consider it a one time gift.”

You chuckled in response but then an idea entered your mind.

“You think it’d help if I slept with you?” You asked softly.

He gave you a cheeky grin. “Could at least take me out to dinner first.”

“You know what I meant.”

He sighed. “Not to be an ass but I literally just told you I don’t like beds?”

“No dumb ass, I mean down here.”

He tilted his head and gave a tight lipped frown. “You don’t gotta do that.”

“No. But if it’d help you feel more comfortable, then I want to.”

He didn’t answer at first but because his face had always been an open book, revealing every emotion with striking transparency, he wore an expression that was etched with heartbreaking gratitude.

“Yeah…we can try that.” He whispered, as if he was in shock.

With gentle movements, you plucked the blanket and pillow from the bed and nestled yourself beside him. As you lay towards him, your faces drew closer, until they were mere inches apart. You could feel his warm breath caressing your skin. In that moment, time seemed to stand still as you both gazed into each other's eyes, it was almost hypnotic. There was no awkwardness when it should have been expected, instead, a comforting feeling washed over you. You were consumed by excitement, tinged with a soothing calmness. Sure, it was paradoxical, but it was consuming and left you lost in the moment.

“Um…” Bucky started hesitantly but then cut himself off, he bit his bottom lip nervously.

Before you had a chance to even consider the words, they spilled from your lips. You were surprised with your own spontaneity, but the question had already slipped. “You wanna cuddle?”

It was as if you read his mind, you could practically see all the anxiety melt off Bucky before he pulled you into his chest. “This okay?” He asked.

“Mhm.” You replied, allowing yourself to sink into the comforting warmth of his body, all while listening to the soft thumps of his heart beating. It was a new intimacy that strangely felt familiar and natural, like everything had suddenly fallen into place.

You heard him yawn and you hummed fondly at how cute it was. “Goodnight, Buck.”

Tenderly, he leaned in and softly placed his lips upon your forehead, holding them there for a fleeting moment before settling his chin atop your head.

—————————

Bucky straddled your lap, his hand cupping your face as he devoured you in a passionate kiss that unraveled you with each flick of his tongue. His other hand roamed to less innocent regions of your body, exploring them with a touch that was both bold and tender.

He repositioned and pressed you down onto the couch, towering over you as his tongue continued to dance in your mouth. You were both breathless, and desiring more. He proceeded to plant kisses on your jawline before moving down to nibble on your neck.

He suddenly stopped, muttering against your skin. “You wanna move to your room? Have a little more space for this?”

“You know what’s funny?”

“Hm?”

“How before we got together, you hated beds, but now you want in my sheets every damn second.” You teased.

“Well…feels a lot more pleasant now.”

“Weird way to say ‘I’m always horny’.”

“I’m making up for 80 some years. And like you aren’t, you’re worse than me half the time.”

“Definitely worked up now, so get me to the bed and we’ll go as many rounds as you want, pervert.”

“Fuck you.” He laughed.

“I’m waiting for it.”

#bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #winter soldier #bucky Barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #winter solider fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #winter solider x reader #tfatws #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x gender neutral reader

759 notes · View notes

zoeykallus · 1 year

Note

Hey there!

first of all i wanted to just gush over how incredible your writing is and that i can’t stop re-reading all of your works! they’re just so good!

second i wanted to say how sorry i am to hear about your dog :(( i have a dog of my own and the thought of anything happening to him moves me to tears, so i truly share in your pain 💜

and lastly, i was wondering you’d do the Only One Bed ™️ trope with hunter and a fem!reader? NSFW is accepted and highly encouraged ;) but if you’re not feeling up to it, please put your mental health over this request!! much love 💜

Aloha!

Thank you so much! Very happy to read this. And thank you for your kind words regarding my dog 💚💚💚

Only One Bed trope, with Hunter.... NSFW, sure thing 😁

I don't know what I did here, but I got carried away. Couldn't decide the fluff and/or smut level, so I kinda mixed it up, and I'm not sure what this is, but it's a lot more than I had planned in the first place...

Hunter x Fem!Reader - One-Shot - The Tension Between Us

Warnings: Sexual Content/Suggestive/No Established Relationship (yet)/Smut/18+

_______________

As Hunter and you are stranded in the small scout shuttle for technical reasons, you find yourselves on a very small abandoned outpost. Apparently, the tiny outpost has been abandoned for ages and was only designed for a single person, because there is only one bed. By necessity, you'll have to spend the night here until you're picked up, so you'll have to come to some sort of agreement on the sleeping situation.

________________

Oral Receiving/Dry Humping/PiV Sex/Fingering

"Don't look at me like that," you grumble, rolling your eyes. Frowning, Hunter asks, "How am I looking at you?" "Like it's any of my fault we got stranded here. The crash was a technical error, not mine." Hunter shakes his head and says patiently, "I'm not upset with you, or your flying skills, I'm upset with the situation." "It wasn't my flying skills though" you insist, already raising your finger in the air to back up the statement. Realizing you've acquired Tech's quirk, you quickly lower your hand again. You're definitely spending too much time with Clone Force 99, you realize. Hunter smiles barely noticeably, raises his hands placatingly, and says, "Yes, I know it was a technical issue. Still, we're stuck here now, and we've both been out for a while, the shuttle is junk and there's only one bed." You sigh and look at the bed, which is neither particularly large, nor particularly small, but in any case a bit too narrow for two adults who don't necessarily want to have physical contact. Hunter has a silly idea, he knows it's not particularly clever, but hears himself say it before he can stop the words from leaving his mouth. "We can both sleep in the bed, can't we? There's no fallback, and we're both adults, we've known each other for a while now. I don't think either of us needs to sleep on the floor." The surprised look you give him makes his insides tighten for a moment. But when you finally shrug your shoulders, nod and say, "Sounds reasonable," he relaxes again. However, seconds later, he's plagued by completely different worrisome thoughts. Yes, you've known each other for quite a while, almost a year, and for a few months now he's started fantasizing about you. At first, he was just attracted without really understanding what those feelings were. Hunter has had a few flings, but never a deeper relationship, that was not allowed anyway. Until now, he didn't have to deal with that either, but then you showed up. In the beginning he was only attracted to you, he feels comfortable around you, he trusts you, at work as well as personally. Then more and more factors came into play. At some point Hunter couldn't get enough of your scent, you started showing up in his wet dreams and at some point he started fantasizing about you too when he needed relief.

By now it's clear to him that he has a thing for you, both physically and emotionally, but Hunter has no idea how to deal with it. What's bothering him right now is the worry that he might dream about you again while you're in bed together. Tech had already pointed out to him that he sometimes talked in his sleep. That could be a problem. As you begin to take off your armor, he stares at you as if thunderstruck.

"What is it?" you ask, frowning and pausing in mid-motion. "You're getting undressed?" "Yes. I can't sleep in the full outfit. Can you?" Hunter shrugs uncertainly. "Sometimes." "But it's not necessary now. Basically we're not on duty, we're stranded but safe. So I'll put my gear down" As he still stares at you, you say teasingly, "Don't worry, I'll leave the blacks on, I'm not going to lay naked in bed with you". You can see him gulp, but then he smiles nervously and starts taking off his gear as well. "Okay, sounds reasonable" he says, trying hard not to look, not to admire the way the tight blacks hug your body.

But all he can think about is that you probably don't have anything on under the blacks, like most soldiers. He can't see any bra or panties showing underneath, anyway. He blinks several times, takes a deep breath, and forces his thoughts elsewhere. Hunter may be into you, but he has too much respect for you as a person and as a friend to gawk at you the way he would like to. When you finally lay down next to each other, barely a hand's width fits between you, so close that you can feel each other's body heat, and you can feel how tense he is next to you. You turn your head to look at him. Hunter stares at the ceiling, his arms crossed over his chest as if he needs to hold himself. You frown and think for a while, watching him. You know that a certain tension has arisen between you, already a long time ago, something that cannot be avoided when you find the person you work so closely with attractive. Not only that, but you are sure he feels the same way you do, somehow you sense it, and sometimes you see it in the way he looks at you. He is outrageously handsome, in combination with his deep, slightly smoky voice, his skill as a soldier and the decent heart that beats under his breastplate, he is practically irresistible to you. But you know how regulations are, that clones aren't supposed to be in serious relationships, and you don't want just a fling with no real connection. The thought that he might be with other women if you don't work together for a while has kept you up many a night. But as far as you know, Hunter's last fling was about six months ago. It was about then that you noticed the way he was looking at you, that's when this weird tension started to develop between you. "You seem tense," you say quietly. Hunter swallows, he sighs softly, then says, "An unusual situation."

You talk for quite a while, about all sorts of things, until you feel that you both relax and eventually fall asleep. At some point during the night, however, you wake up, you feel a weight on your upper body and between your legs. Almost as if on cue, you feel warm between your thighs, even before you are fully awake. You blink, trying to get your eyes used to the darkness in the room.

Finally, you realize, one of Hunter's legs is between yours, slightly bent, his thigh right on your now heated center, one of his arms across your torso, almost like a hug. However, Hunter is asleep, probably doesn't even know what he's doing. His leg moves a little, the friction on your pubic creating a pulse that tingles in your pussy, and you clearly feel wetness gathering in the heated triangle between your thighs. Suddenly he seems to stop, he takes a deep breath, opens his eyes. His whole body tenses, trying to orient himself in the darkness. You know Hunter smelled your arousal, that's what woke him up. He seems confused at first about the situation you two are in. "Sorry," he mumbles as he realizes how close he came to you in his sleep and wants to pull away. Your hands claw into the top of his blacks, holding him in place, whereupon he reaches with one hand for the small lamp that stands beside the bed and turns it on. It's a fairly dim light, but strong enough for him to see your face. Your fingers are still clawing into the fabric on his chest. Hunter looks at you questioningly. You say, almost in a whisper, "Don't go away." He blinks, pauses. A barely noticeable smirk twitches at the corner of his mouth, and you can see his pupils grow bigger almost instantly. He moves his thigh a little between yours, tensing his muscles, rubbing over your pussy. "You want me to stay right here?" He takes another deep breath, knowing full well you'll say yes. You nod and say, still almost whispering, "Yes."

His hand that was previously on the lamp moves to your hip and grips, while his thigh continues to apply friction and pressure to your center. By now the moisture of your arousal has seeped through the fabric and the smell is so intense for Hunter that his cock pressed against your thigh is hard as diamond. His senses and hormones are already dancing tango, everything in him is in passionate flames. He knows exactly, he will enjoy this a lot. But most of all, he wants you to melt into arousal, he wants you to have so much fun that you want to come to him again and again, that when you look at him, you can think of nothing else but his closeness. As he kisses you he is gentle yet hungry, his tongue is so quick in your mouth and has the upper hand that you feel a deliciously sweet helplessness. You trust Hunter, completely, you know you are safe with him. If it's up to you, he can do absolutely anything he wants to you. His lips part from yours, his thigh still pressed to your pubic, his lips close to yours he says in his smoky voice, "My senses are full of your scent, but I think it's time for more, every one of my senses wants to explore you."

Swimming in arousal, you say almost a little breathlessly, "Yes, please." Hunter smiles in satisfaction. He kneels over you, his knees to the left and right of your hips and his hands reach for the hem of the top of your blacks, pulling it up, slowly and deliberately. You watch him lick his lips as your breasts emerge from under the fabric. Then you bring your arms up, so he can pull the top over your head. But he doesn't pull it off you, he keeps your arms and the top of your head trapped in it. He ties the fabric together, so it stays in place. You can't see anything, only your mouth peeks out from under the fabric and your arms are fixed in it. Theoretically you can free yourself, Hunter doesn't want to restrain you, certainly not against your will, he's more interested in creating an erotic illusion. A hoarse moan comes over your lips as his close around one of your nipples and teasingly suck on it. His tongue plays with it, his fingers gently knead the soft flesh. With a lot of skill and passion, he takes care of your boobs with his hands and mouth, making you squirm and let out sweet little sighs. Then, quite unexpectedly, his hand wanders down on you, while his mouth is still playing with one of your nipples, and slips right under the fabric of your black's pants.

At first, you make a small, startled sound, and close your thighs around his hand. Hunter pauses, his mouth moves from your chest to your chin, kissing it gently, and he whispers, "It's just me. I'm not going to hurt you, on the contrary. You trust me, don't you?" In response, you slowly open your thighs again and say in a whisper, "I trust you." "Good girl," he coos to you, kissing his way down your neck as his fingertips wander, carefully, gently, through your damp folds. "A good girl indeed, so wet for me". His words tingle under your skin, in your nerve endings. You could listen to his voice day and night, especially when he speaks to you as he does now. Hunter's fingertips find your clit and caress it playfully while his tongue dances circles around your nipple. Your hips automatically buck up, towards him, craving more. One of his fingers finds your opening and tickles it gently, teasingly. "You want to feel me there, don't you?" A hoarse, "Yes," passes your lips. Hunter withdraws his hand from you again, moving further down and pulling off the pants of your blacks, leaving you lying naked in front of him with your head and arms still trapped in your top. You feel his strong hands on your thighs and how he opens them, how his shoulders push in between. Shortly after, you feel his hot breath on your damp folds. His lips softly graze the insides of your thighs, slowly making their way to the center of your heat. You know what's coming, you're in aroused anticipation, yet the feeling as his tongue roams through your wet folds is almost overwhelming. You hear Hunter growl softly, like a predator descending on his prey, as his tongue and lips explore your pussy. Finally, he finds your clit and applies gentle, circular pressure with his tongue, eliciting sighs and moans from you.

Hunter's tongue gets faster and faster, everything inside you tingles, every muscle tensed in arousal, your pussy twitches impatiently and greedily. Then suddenly he lets go of your clit and drills his tongue deep into your opening with a growl, deep from his chest. Like a starving man he licks you out, drills his tongue into you again and again, fucking you with it while his hands have a firm grip on your thighs and your whole abdomen trembles with arousal.

Again and again you moan his name, it is divine, consistently on the threshold between maximum intensity and climax without tipping over, a wonderful, sweet agony. He keeps you on this threshold for quite a while, greedily absorbing your juices. Finally, you can't take it anymore. "Hunter, fuck me!" His tongue slips out of your pussy, skims over it once more, circles your clit teasingly before he rises and releases your thighs. You hear soft rustling of clothes and squirm in your top that also serves as your bondage. Your arms are still trapped in it above your head, but your eyes now free to admire him. He is a positively stunning sight, steeled, beautiful. Tanned, tattooed skin stretches over hard muscles. Then your gaze drifts downward. His cock stands erect, hard, thick, gently curved, rounding out the perfect picture you have before you. You're so hungry to feel him inside you, you can feel your juices pooling in your pussy. He shows you a smirk as your eyes meet, he knows exactly what you're feeling, can sense it with practically every one of his senses and he loves it. He leans over you, propped up on his arms, his hips dipping between your thighs, his cock gently nudging your wet hole. "Are you ready for me, girl?" You nod eagerly, "Yes, absolutely ready." Hunter never dreamed this moment would come, but now it has, and he's enjoying every second to the fullest, your scent, every little sigh from you, every movement, just everything he soaks up like a sponge. He applies pressure, his cock parts your wet folds, slowly penetrates you inch by inch. He keeps an eye on your face, careful that you feel perfect. Every little excited twitch in your face is a feast for him, making his chest swell with pride and his heart beat up to his throat. He knows that yours has been pounding behind your ribs since the first moment he touched you, and he loves that beat.

The stretching is glorious, as he finally sinks all the way into you, as he is inside you, his hips nestled against your thighs, his body hovering over yours, it feels like you two are made for each other, perfectly adapted to each other. Feeling his hips between your thighs, him deep inside you, feels so right. You're so aroused and excited, your pussy twitching around his cock even before he moves inside you, eliciting a surprised moan. Hunter starts to move, slowly pulling his hips back and thrusting again.

As he speeds up, the bed beneath you begins to squeak in time with your movements, but neither of you mind. Soon the squeaking is mixed with the sound of bare skin meeting bare skin and the wet sound of his cock drilling deep into your pussy again and again. The friction of his pubic bone is right on your clit, the perfect combination. Your legs wrap around him to pull Hunter closer to you. Your hands wander hungrily over his strong back, his shoulders, and down his neck. He holds your gaze captive with his, penetrating deep into it as he moves inside you. The intensity increases steadily, exponentially. You can't look away, your faces so close together, your breath mixing, your panting and his huffing. However, as you near climax, your pussy tightening around his cock, his eyes roll back, he squeezes his eyes shut, you see his jaw muscles working and feel his thrusts become erratic, his thighs trembling with tension. Sweat gathers on his forehead "F-fuck... where? Where do you want me to-" You don't answer his question verbally, clenching your legs tighter around him, pushing his body tighter against yours as a result. Hunter tears open his eyes, a half-stuttered moan coming out of his mouth as your entire abdomen tightens, the pulse of your orgasm taking him with it. Shortly after, you feel him cum inside you, his seed filling your cleft. Two, three more lewd sounding wet thrusts into your filled pussy, and he stops, breathing heavily.

His gaze finds yours again, and you grin at him in satisfaction. He returns the gesture, then leans his sweaty forehead against yours and whispers, as if he doesn't want to ruin the moment, "I certainly didn't expect that to happen today". "Neither did I," you admit, "But I'm glad it happened." He laughs softly, gently. "Me too" He's still inside you, but you suddenly feel uncertainty rising inside you. "Is it going to happen again?" He chuckles. "Give me about 20 minutes" You say a little more seriously, "That's not what I meant". He lifts his head to look at you, his cock slowly softening inside you, but he doesn't leave your body yet. "You don't want to do it again?" "Yes, I do, but... Not just today." He smirks and says, "I like that thought".

You take a breath and say more boldly than you feel, "I want it to be more than a thought" Hunter looks at you thoughtfully, finally rolling off of you and getting wet wipes out of his backpack that is next to the bed. He helps you clean up, still seeming to be thinking as you wait tensely for a response. Finally, he says, lost in thought, "I never used to worry about that, I never had to worry about breaking that kind of rules." You feel your heart grow heavy in your chest. You watch Hunter dispose of the used wipes, then he lies back down with you, both of you still naked, and covers you both with the wool blanket from the emergency kit you had managed to salvage from the shuttle earlier. To your relief, he doesn't pull back thoughtfully, as you expected. He slides an arm under your shoulders and pulls you close to him. Hunter kisses your forehead, tasting the salt on your skin, and says, "I don't know what you'll face if we get caught, but I, for one, am willing to take the risk of being decommissioned."

Your fingertips brush over his chest, over the tattoo. "Are you sure?" you ask softly. Without hesitation, Hunter replies, "Absolutely sure." You snuggle closer into his embrace, then with a smirk you say, "How long will it take you to get ready for our next round?" He laughs softly, you feel the vibration in his chest before he says, "Just a few minutes, my beautiful."

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

@chxpsi

@thebahdbitch

@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri

@darkangel4121

@ttzamara

@arctrooper69

@padawancat97

@agenteliix

@allsystemsblue

@palliateclaw

@either-madness-or-brilliance

@ortizshinkaroff

@andy-solo1

@hunterssecretrecipe

@heyitsaloy

@greaser-wolf

@extrahotpixels

@hated-by-me

@hunterxcrosshair

@malicemercy

@bebopsworld

@echos-girlfriend

@cpnt616

@dangraccoon

@jediknightjana

@pb-jellybeans

373 notes · View notes

kingdaddydaichi · 2 years

Text

1000th Post Special!

Back by popular demand...

Dad/Dilf!Katsuki Bakugou Headcanons

₰ pairing: Dad!Dilf!Katsuki Bakugou x f!Reader

₰ wc: fuck, idek

₰ cw/an: my 1000th post (yay)!, katsuki is aged up (as per usual), dad/sfw section first, dilf/nsfw section last, mdni, tbh i'm so fucking exhausted rn so kindly let me know if you see something that i should include here and i'll be happy to do so, hold onto your ovaries my fellow bakuhoes!

₰ Dad!Katsuki (sfw)…

…chuckles when his kids wrap their tiny arms around his thick ones yelling “lift us up, Daddy!” He proceeds to do bicep curls with a kid hanging off each arm while they laugh and squeal. Lifting kids is a great workout for his arms, back, and chest.

…whose baby daughter’s first laugh was at him yelling at you to please help him because she’d had a blowout and baby shit was leaking out the legs of her diaper onto his arms and chest. “Oh my fucking god, baby! Fucking help me!” he cried with his face twisted in disgust. You gingerly took her in your outstretched arms, giggling along with her as he slowly got up to go clean himself up, bitching the whole way up the stairs about how fucking gross babies can be. “Jesus fucking Christ what the fuck are you feeding her?!”

…loves your body even more after having his babies.

...sees your cellulite and stretch marks as reminders of what you and your body went through to carry and deliver the lives he helped to create. Literally all he had to do was cum. You bore the full brunt of the trauma a mother’s body naturally takes on then fucking smiled and cried tears of joy after being literally ripped apart (in one of the most awful places he might add).

...tried and failed to choke back the tears when you thanked him while breastfeeding for the first time.

...shook his head and pushed your hair back before planting a long kiss to your forehead, his wet cheeks pressed against your glowing face. You’d never looked more beautiful and he couldn’t stop telling you he loved you. And all those little imperfections on your body still remind him of the things you’ve put yourself through because you love him so much.

…LOVES grilling out. Has a really nice built-in grill on your large backyard patio with a sink on one side and a mini fridge on the other.

…had a large, detached shed built in the backyard for all his tools and work-related gear.

...keeps it under lock and key to keep the kids out when he’s not in there to make sure they don’t hurt themselves.

…also had a custom safe added onto the back of your master closet in which to store his “battle suits” (refuses to call it a costume. “It’s not a fuckin costume! Do I look like a goddamn clown to you?! Tch, this isn’t ‘dress-up’! It’s purely functional and just so happens to also look fuckin cool as shit!”) The safe is huge too, like an additional closet with a combination lock. Gotta keep his brats away from his grenades, gauntlets, and grenadier bracers.

…has the Dad Look™️ when the kids start getting out of line.

...usually doesn’t even have to say anything because they know all too well how loud he can get when they don’t listen.

...just has to clear his throat a certain way and they’ll stop whatever they’re doing to find him staring at them with his crimson eyes narrowed at them. Most of the time they get the message that Daddy is gettin’ real tired of their shit and is not in the mood to be trifled with.

…had never laid a finger on any of his kids until his teenage son bowed up to him ONCE, thinking he was man enough to challenge his father’s authority. The teenager had broken his curfew one night so Katsuki told him to give him his car keys. “Nah, fuck that, I’m out! I’m not a kid anymore, old man,” your son said and started towards the door with his keys in hand.

…moved faster than it took you to register what was happening.

…got right up in his son’s face, so close that the breath coming out of his flaring nostrils made the boy’s hair flutter. “Give me the keys,” the older Bakugou growled. “Now!” Your son, who got his build from his dad, put his hands up and tried to shove him out of the way. You gasped, knowing things were about to get really bad really fast. Sure enough you saw the anger flash in your husband’s eyes and the fear in your son’s, but he didn’t back down. “Katsuki!” you cried, afraid he was about to rage.

...grabbed his son by the collar and shoved him against the wall so hard it knocked the breath out of the boy as his keys hit the floor with a clamor. “You think you’re a man now, hah? Is that it? You think you’re man enough to throw hands with me? Well then let’s step the fuck outside, boy, cuz I’d love to see you try!” Katsuki said with that vicious grin of his. Your son surrendered, his open hands up by his head, his heart trying to pound its way out of his heaving chest and run to safety. “Katsu. Baby, let him go!” With a wild look in his eyes Katsuki harshly released his son. “Get out of my sight,” he hissed. “‘Fore i fuckin hurt you…BOY.” That was the first and last time your son tried his father.

…wow, that last one got away from me a bit. 😬

…made his son the proudest kid in the school when he showed up for his 4th grade class’s Parent Career Day. The other kids gawked and exchanged words of excitement when the cool and famous Dynamight walked through their classroom door. They were all so engaged with him as he talked, and asked him loads of questions. They all got his autograph and took a class photo with him that they later all got signed copies of. Your son beamed brighter than the Sun that day, and his friends went on and on about how cool it was that the pro hero was his dad.

…whose daughter is a card-carrying daddy’s girl. She clings to him and went through a terrible separation anxiety phase when she was a toddler. Almost inconsolable every time he had to leave. It didn’t matter how many times he kissed her forehead and promised he’d come back as soon as he could, after he walked out the door she would cry for what seemed like an eternity saying “Daddy” over and over as if chanting his name would make him reappear. It was AWFUL. Whenever he had to be gone for days at a time on missions, he would talk to her on the phone or FaceTime with her whenever he could, which helped immensely. And when he finally did come home? Oh watch the fuck out because she would barrel through the house, running as fast as her little legs would carry her to fling herself into her daddy’s arms. For the next couple of days she would cling to him every chance she got. It was comical sometimes the way your husband would walk around with a toddler glued to his hip. And the times he couldn’t hold her bc he was cooking or taking a piss, she’d stay as close to him as he’d let her.

...would look down to see her little fingers slide underneath the bathroom door saying “Daddy go peepee?”

...just shook his head and groaned. “Not a moment’s peace, huh sparkler?” What really took the cake though was the jealous phase she went through with you! The first time she pushed you away when your husband leaned in to kiss you, it hurt your feelings so bad you had to go cry in your bedroom.

...scolded her and put her down, refusing to pick her up again until she stopped wailing and reaching for him. “I love Mommy very much and wanna hold her too, sparkler,” he told her. “I don’t want you to ever push her away like that again. That hurt her feelins. And mine too.” Oh her little carmine eyes went wide at that. She never wanted to feel her father’s disappointment ever again. “M’sowwy, Daddy. I don’wanna huwt feewings anymore,” she said while shaking her cute little head.

...picked her up and hugged her saying “That’s my girl. Let’s go apologize to Mommy now, okay?” With her head tucked neatly against his neck, she nodded, sniffling. “‘Kay.”

...carried her to your shared bedroom and slowly opened the door. When she saw your tear-streaked face she made grabby hands at you. Katsuki put her down on the bed and she crawled into your arms to hug you. “M’sowwy, Mommy. I won’t make you cwy again,” she said, which made you smile against her hair. “Thank you, baby,” you cooed before looking up at Katsuki.

...sat down on the bed next you and said, “Now, I’m gettin that kiss” before pressing his lips to yours, smiling. “Love you, babe.”

…(while we’re on the subject of kisses) was mortified the first time his little girl kissed him on the lips. It was just a quick peck, but Katsuki.exe stopped working for 20 whole seconds.

...had no idea how to react, just sat there with his eyes as big as saucers. You started giggling at his dumbfounded expression.

...was so confused. “I-is that…even legal?” he whispered to you. “Wh-what do I do, (Y/n)?” You shrugged. “I legitimately don’t know?” you mouthed. Both of you were trying not to react the wrong way. “Fucking Google it!” he whisper-yelled.

...sat her down and told her to keep playing while you and he went to talk for a few minutes. After a little bit of research and a quick conversation about it, y’all went back into the living room and sat down with her.

...never dreamed he’d be having a talk with his 3-year-old daughter about kissing. This is gonna be interesting if not entertaining, you thought to yourself. You’d both agreed that Katsuki should be the one to talk to her. It was ultimately his decision after all, and it wouldn’t be right for you to set his boundaries with her. “Hey, sparkler, c’mere a minute.” He patted his thigh and she happily crawled into his lap. “I wanna talk to ya about that kiss ya gave me.” She looked up at him with those sweet doe eyes and nodded. “Why’d ya do that?” “S’cuz I love you, Daddy.”

...gave her a crooked smile and said, “I love you too, baby girl. More than you’ll ever know…but…” He looked over at you with a nervous look in his eye. You grimaced a little, not envying his precarious position one bit. Since high school, he’d gotten much better at having delicate conversations, especially after you two started dating. But this was uncharted territory for both of you and would put his communication skills to their most challenging test yet. “…but I uhh-let’s just stick with cheek and head kisses, alright?” “But why?” she whined. Oh boy. “Well, because that’s what I like more.” “But Mommy kisses you on the lips all the time!” “Yeah, but…she’s my spouse. When people get married they’re the only ones allowed to kiss each other on the lips.” “I wanna marry you too, Daddy!”

...shook his head slowly. “I’m sorry, sparkler, but parents aren’t allowed to marry their kids.” “But why?” This hole just kept getting deeper. You rubbed Katsuki’s arm, silently communicating to him that he was doing great, encouraging him to keep going as he looked at you with desperation in his eyes. This was by far the most painfully uncomfortable conversation he’d ever had. “It’s a little hard to explain and it’ll make a lot more sense when you’re older, so for now all I can say is that it’s wrong. Do you trust me enough to believe me for now until you’re a little older?” “Yes, I twust you, Daddy. I bewieve you,” she said with a sad, downcast face.

...hugged her tight and kissed her on the top of her head. “I love you so much, baby doll. Thank you for understandin.” With her arms still wrapped around her daddy’s neck she looked at you and said, “You awe so wucky, Mommy.” You covered your mouth, trying not to cry as you nodded. “I know, baby. I love your daddy more than any other man in the whole world and I’m very lucky to be married to him.”

...smirked at you, the love that exploded in his warm chest spreading all the way to the tips of his ears.

₰ Dilf!Katsuki (nsfw)…

…is still buff as fuck well into his 40s. Like, his scowl smile lines are deeper, and you catch the occasional silver hair when it glints in the light just so. But he’s always taken great care of his body and it shows. The padding over his thick muscles has grown fleshier, and maybe he's got a 6-pack now instead of an 8-pack, but he’s stronger than he’s ever been and just as easy on the eyes.

…has always had a high sex drive and that didn’t change one bit after your first child was born. As soon as you were cleared to start having sex again, Katsuki sighed in relief and you both eased back into it. So once your first infant became a toddler who could turn doorknobs, you and Katsuki learned the hard way that you had to start locking doors during sexy time.

…was balls deep in your pussy, wet hips clapping against your ass as he pounded into you while holding onto the headboard. Your desperate whimper turned into a shriek when you heard a familiar little voice behind you. “Daddy? Is Mommy okay?” your son cried out as he hugged his favorite plushie before sticking his thumb back in his mouth.

...let out a string of curses as he threw the covers over your naked bodies before pulling out. You kept your face buried in the pillow, mortified that your innocent little boy just caught an eyeful of his dad’s bare ass popping and flexing and ksnbxjsjjdnn you didn’t even want to think about what else he probably saw. “Yeah haha, Mommy’s fine! Right, Mommy?”

...put his mouth right up next to your ear and hissed, “Help me the fuck out here! It doesn’t look like you’re okay when you’re suffocatin yourself with the damn pillow!” You turned over and pulled the sheet up to your chin. “Yes, sweetie, I’m perfectly okay!” you promised with something between a cringe and a big smile on your face. My gods, you couldn’t even look him in the eye. “We were just…uhh-umm…” “…playing a game!” Katsuki chimed in. “Wif no clothes on?”

...sighed and nodded. “Yeah. Grownups play some really weird ass games sometimes.” Your little boy just stood there, staring at both of you while sucking his thumb, almost like he wasn’t buying it. “Sweetheart?” you sang, “Why don’t you go wake up your other plushies so Mommy and Daddy can get dressed and make breakfast, okay?” “Okay, Mommy.” He gave his father one more suspicious look before slowly walking out of your bedroom.

...looked over at you and lost it, falling back against the headboard while roaring with laughter. “Katsu, stop it!” You slapped his arm. “This is not fucking funny!” But your husband was in literal tears, his loud ass cackle echoing off the bedroom walls. “Ah fuck!” he wiped his eyes. “I ain’t even mad that I’m gonna have blue balls after this!” he howled before sobbing with laughter again. It took you a few days, but eventually you were able to laugh about it too. You're just grateful that your sweet little boy was too young to have formed any long-term memory of that horrifying event.

…smiles and swings his squealing daughter up around after scooping her up in his arms when he comes home from a long mission.

...takes one look at you though and immediately his loins begin to stir.

...props his little girl on his hip and watches as you prance towards him, telling him how happy you are that he's finally home before yanking you up against his side and laying a long, wet kiss on your mouth.

...drags his teeth over his pouty bottom lip while heat spreads across your pretty face.

...kisses and hugs and squeezes and cherishes his daughter before setting her down, explaining that he’s gotta go to the bathroom. And no, it can’t wait. Not if he doesn’t wanna have to explain the long, hardening bulge in his pants.

...winks at you with a daring smirk as he heads back toward the bedroom. You sit your daughter back down at the table to continue coloring, explaining that you've gotta go use the bathroom too before padding after Katsuki.

...is waiting for you behind the door, shutting (and locking!) it before backing you up against the nearest wall and consuming your lips with his. Hands groping at body parts, fingers squeezing flesh, clothes flying every which way. "Mmfuck, missed you so fuckin much, baby," he growls against your neck before sucking your skin between his teeth. You try to keep your whines and moans to a minimum while reaching between his legs for his hot erection. "Missed you too, Katsu," you say before biting his bottom lip. "Need your cock so bad, baby." "Fuck," he hisses when you squeeze the swollen head of his thick cock.

...practically smacks your hand away, grabs the back of your thighs and picks you up. Your arms wrap securely around the back of his thick neck, tongues plunging into each other's mouths as he pushes you up the wall.

...frantically reaches under you to bring the tip of his drooling cock to your entrance and pushes past your tight ring of moist flesh with a soft pop. Your fingernails dig into his back, and you bite down on his shoulder to keep from crying out as he slowly buries his hard length deep inside you. A quiet whimper escapes Katsuki's lips when he bottoms out, stilling to keep from cumming prematurely as your walls flutter around him.

...slowly pulls out until just the angry red tip is all that's left inside you. His breath is hot against the side of your face when he thrusts his shaft back inside you, faster this time. Harder. With your ankles locked around his butt you meet his movements, rutting your clit against the tight, glistening honey-colored curls around the base of his cock.

...whose heavy balls draw up closer to his body with every deep thrust, so full of cum he can already feel the beginning of his orgasm pooling, burning up the base of his spine. Time and again he slowly pulls out just to spear you with his aching cock. Over and over. "Shit, (Y/n)," he breathes into your mouth. "I'm gettin so fuckin close already. Want you ta cum on my cock, sweetheart." "Faster, Katsu...oh god!"

...whose blunt fingernails create red crescent moons in the plush flesh of your hips as he pulls you down into his thrusts at a bruising pace. "Yeah baby, keep fucking me just like thahhhh god! Gonna cum, Katsuki! Please!" "That's it, pretty girl, cum for me," he groans, teeth raking over your exposed throat. Your fists pull at his ash blond hair as ecstasy sets every nerve ending in your body on fire. "Oh fuck, baby yeah. Milk my cock with that sweet pussy...mmfffuuuck." With a loud grunt, your husband's legs tremble and his hips slam into yours one last time before coming to a dead stop, unloading almost a week's worth of his sticky hot semen into your throbbing cunt.

...is still cumming when it starts to leak out and drip out of you, his full length still nestled all the way inside you as his nut drips into a small, white puddle on the hardwood floor beneath you.

sorry, that's all i have time to write atm. i'm super sleepy and gotta eat something before getting ready for bed so gotta quickly stick this in the queue. i'll write more dilf!katsuki content soon! my pretty little head is so empty from all the katsuki brainrot today. i'm grinning like an idiot tho. this was fun.

more dilf!katsuki hcs here

reblogs always appreciated! ❤️

3K notes · View notes

imrllytootiredforthis · 1 year

Text

~Stray Kids reaction to you calling them babygirl~

A/N: This was from the request here, and anon whoever you are thank you bc this was so much fun to write. As always, any feedback appreciated!

18+ Minors DNI

Chan:

It probably wasn’t planned

It was probably like you asked him to do something for you

and ever the pleaser, Chan listened happily, following every command like the good puppy he is

But instead of your usual ‘good boy’ that you would reward him with after,

it was babygirl

his blush would be so pretty and cute as he asked you ‘what did you call me?’

you’d nonchalantly reply with ‘babygirl’, gauging his reaction

tbh I think he’d love it

he loves the way you look at him when you say it,

how it makes him feel, so small and loved

he’d prolly be into some lowkey feminization

like not too far

but calling him babygirl, making the hairs on his neck stand on end,

letting out loud moans in his accent, slightly twitching while you abuse his prostate with your fingers over and over

making his head spin into a cloudy mush

it would probably make him fall into subspace quickly

Asks you not to call him it outside the bedroom bc it’s embarrassing to him

and you respect that was have almost slipped a few times

Felix:

The ultimate babygirl™️

call him it as he calls you mommy or daddy

will melt at the words, legs literally wobbling as you purr it into his ear all smooth n’ all

is literally the sweetest baby angel ever

forgive him father for he has sinned

Looks the part

doesn’t really think the part

I think he’d be really into roleplay and crossdressing with this one

he’d put on a school girl uniform

slutty little skirt, knee-high socks, tied up blazer

the whole shebang

and you’d be his professor

he’d be trying to get his grades up

or maybe you’d be the principal

and he’d be a naughty student

a bully

and a nerd

all of them honestly, more than once

and every time they end with him getting bent over a desk or pushed up against the wall, even shoved down onto the floor

as you called him babygirl, all seductively and shit

Just a warning, if you do

no matter if it’s out in public or in the comfort of your house,

you whisper it into his ear and

boom, he’s popped a boner already

Hyunjin:

I believe that this man would love it

I feel like he’d love a lot of fucked up shit

but would be too ashamed to tell you

so he’s probably fantasized about it, imagined it while he’s alone at night, quietly moaning to not wake anyone up

And he’d probably guard that shit like hell, never ever wanting you to ever find out

That all went to plan until it was late one night and you fell asleep on the couch, watching a movie with him

he’s all cuddled up into your chest, distracted from the movie by the sound of your heartbeats

So he tries to wake you up, knowing that you have work the next day and complain about being sore from sleeping on the couch

first he tries calling you name, rubbing your skin in efforts to soothe you into consciousness

but a thought comes to mind

and so he slithers down between your legs, remembering how you mentioned earlier on that you found the idea of him waking you up by giving you head would be hot

He eases off your pants and underwear, carefully to not wake you up and puts his mouth to work

It doesn’t take you long to wake up and when you do, your hand grips into his long hair, moaning and panting as his tongue works against you

And suddenly, you’re moaning out praises

‘Doing so good for me babygirl,’

So turned on

redoubles his efforts

Anyway, do it

bc it’s hot and hyunjin is so babygirl

Minho:

I think that there’s lots of potential here

Because honestly

he’s never even imagined ever being called that

pretty boy, handsome, baby, kitten he had thought about them but never had he thought about be called babygirl

in fact, bc of how bratty he is he’d probably pretend that he hates it

while he’s melting inside

but he’s not very good at pretending

So it becomes like a secret weapon

whenever he’s bratting off or being annoying, just call him it

and he’ll be turning into putty in your hands

be careful, because he’ll fall into subspace very easily if you do

Just imagine laying in bed with him, not really doing anything but basking in each others company

and your fingers are rubbing his thighs in a sweet non-sexual way

before you lean down to whisper in his ear

‘love you babygirl’

he’ll look up at you with the widest, purest, good boy eyes that it takes you back for a minute

bc he almost never looks at you like that way

he’s getting hard already and lets out a whimper, beginning to grind against your leg

and since he looks so sweet doing it, you indulge

whispering praises like

‘doing so good for me, babygirl’, ‘does that feel good?’, etc

you lead his hips against your leg, praising him the whole way through until he cums and you quickly clean him up and go back to cuddling like before for aftercare

Seungmin:

Loves it

a lot

But does he prefer it?

To my very grave i will swear that being called puppy is the number one thing of all time for this man

it just feels so right to him

But being called babygirl?

That’s a very close second

loves them both, puppy coming in just a little bit higher

but either one you choose for the night, if you’re calling him it, he already knows that he’s a goner

The thing is, he never thought that it was something he’d find attractive, ever. In any way, shape or form

but then you called him it, a hushed breath in the midst of telling him how good he was

as he was on a leash, during a ‘training session’

He knew from the first time you said it that he loved it

Swears that it was one of the best sessions you ever had

he brings it up a lot

especially when he’s feeling a bit bratty, bringing up that one time that was so good, that could never be repeated again because you’ve ‘lost your touch’

thinks about it while masturbating

And good news,

you better bet that you filmed the entire thing,

Play it next time your fucking him, the audio loud in his ear

tease him about how pathetic he sounded

‘such a dirty little thing aren’t you babygirl?’

‘A-ah! Y-es’

My point is,

Yes.

Jisung:

He’s the true ‘I have no idea’

Because there’s no in-between

He’ll either stop in his tracks and turn to you, cute cheeks red in an angry red flush

and then start yelling at you, truly offended that you’d say that to him

that you see him in that light that you’d call him babygirl

much less in public, or in front of the others, or in private-

-wherever you are, that’s not the point,

he’s offended and calling him that is the issue

The other scenario is that

He’ll either stop in his tracks and turn to you, cute cheeks red in an angry red flush

and immediately jump your bones then and there

He’s ready,

dick hard,

mouth open,

babygirl’s prepped and ready for whatever you wanna do to him

Common decency???

who’s she??

never heard of her

You’re in public?

Good thing that there’s a bathroom in this restaurant!

With his friends?

Good thing that Hannie gets off on humiliation, they might even join in too

fulfilling whatever sick fantasies are in that porn-addicted, depraved mind of his

You’re in private?

Perfect. Get ready to fuck him hard against the wall, purring babygirl into his ear until he comes so hard he sees stars

Actually do it.

See which one it is

Changbin:

I’ve said it once, I’ll say it a million times

FEMINIZATION

DO IT

CALL THIS MAN BABYGIRL

WATCH AS HE STOPS WORKING

BINNIE.EXE HAS STOPPED WORKING

it’ll be fr so hot

throw him in a skirt and a pair of pretty pink panties

compliment on how pretty your babygirl is, just for you, all for you

by the end i can guarantee you,

no matter how rough or gentle you are,

whether you’re whipping him with a belt or giving him a soft handjob while affirming how good he is,

no matter what you do or how you treat him,

he’ll be downright sobbing in pleasure from it, begging for more-or wait, was it for you to stop?

He’s too fucked out to remember at this point

Calling him that triggers something in him,

and it’s a very good thing

it’s a great way to tease poor binnie

You’ll be out and about, just shopping or eating or walking around and then you offhandedly-

-don’t make it obvious-

-say it

WATCH

watch as he freezes in place

poor thing is so excited he won’t know what to do with himself:(

so just drag him home and tell him what to do

IN:

CANNOT CONTROL HIS REACTIONS FOR SHIT

AND HE GETS SO WORKED UP SO EASILY

If you call him that, he’s already a whimpery, whiny mess

begging for you to touch him despite wherever you may be

but just imagine you’re in public...

he’s so horny

and is letting out breathy little pants into your ear

he’s so embarrassed tho

trying his very very best to cover his hard-on

blushy face n’ all as he looks around, paranoid that anyones watching,

while gripping your hand that’s palming him,

cursing and adoring the sound of your voice in his ear as you call him babygirl

Be ready for a mommy or a daddy to slip out after that

begging either one to go home

so you can take care of him

your babygirl is just so needy for you

he can’t help it

but you’ll gladly help...

once you make him cum in his pants at least once

As you walk home, he’s trying so desperately to cover the stain on the front of his pants, clinging onto your arm for dear life while you drag him home

So, so sensitive

Try to make him cum with just your voice

whispering filthy things in his ear,

referring to yourself as daddy and him as babygirl in the same sentence

it probably won’t even take that much

#sub!stray kids #sub skz #sub stray kids #sub!lee felix #sub bang chan #sub hyunjin #sub minho #sub seungmin #sub jisung #sub changbin #sub in #sub jeongin #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids headcanons

646 notes · View notes

terushimooo · 1 year

Note

aloe vera and tsukki 😁🤭🤣⛷️🥳🥳🥳

ALOE VERA

What's something (mundane) you really want to experience in life?

Tsukishima x f!Reader

t/w: implied murder of secondary character, blood, implied abduction, yandere, stalker tsukki, unedited

a/n: this is dedicated to a special bug in my life <3. I hope you like it! I am very much praying it was bug™️ who sent me this ask, and if not I’m so sorry I called you a bug… fbdshbfhjbfhjdsbjh

w/c: 584

Prompts can be found HERE! Send an ask! 2 spots left!

Tsukishima is like black licorice: salty, bitter, and definitely not for everyone.

When asked to describe their classmate; students often label him as arrogant, rude, smug… Antagonistic even.

But the most commonly flaunted word, worn proudly by the blond himself, is the name of bully.

It took years for Tsukishima to build up his walls, to carefully lay his foundation, weatherproofing, and countless layers of brick and mortar. It’s gotten to the point where even the sun is blocked by this metaphorical wall’s looming presence. And yet, underneath that fickle facade is a man who sees himself as inferior—a being riddled with insecurity and uncertainty.

All it would take for his walls to crumble is a gentle caress, the soothing of kind words and encouragement, the touch of fate—all he needed was someone to give him a chance…

But just as life would so often have it, instead of a chance, Tsukishima was given a challenge.

How different his life would’ve been if he had only met you sooner.

If only you’d remembered, if only you hadn’t abandoned your oldest, most dear childhood friend.

Tsukki’s never asked for much.

Not truly.

He doesn’t have some grand bucket list. He isn’t asking a genie for unlimited wishes or billions of dollars! Instead, all Tsukishima really wants, what he wishes for the most, more than anything in the entire world, is mundanity itself. But only if that mundanity includes you.

All he wants is a quiet life, a quiet year, a quiet moment—hell!—even a quiet second, if only it be beside you, his best friend.

His true love.

But how could he have that when you’ve forgotten who you are to him? When you cling to the pariah he’s forced to call his coach? How can Tsukki ever forgive you when he sees you loyally and continuously packing his coach’s lunches, when he sees you acting like a falsity, like the dutiful wife you supposedly are—not the whore he now knows lives beneath your skin.

But what irks Tsukki the most is when he sees the glint of ownership, the taunting scrap of metal you like to call a wedding band sticking tightly around your finger.

As Tsukki stands under the waning moon of a cool autumn night, a dented aluminum bat hanging heavily in his hand, he can’t help but think that this is all your fault.

You made him do this.

And yet, he doesn’t feel anger. And he certainly doesn’t feel regret. His coach, now laying cold and lifeless at his feet, he got what he deserved. There’s no contesting that.

No, all Tsukishima feels is a sense of narcissistic sadness.

Sadness for the man he was, for who he could have been, and for who will never come to be.

In Tsukishima’s mind, all of this—a whole lifetime's worth of suffering—all of this was leading him to this moment, to the moment he finally gets to take you in his arms (albeit unconscious from head trauma) and back to the home he’s so carefully prepared for you.

A frown plasters his face as Tsukishima takes in your appearance, as he takes note of the deep and oozing wound on your forehead, the one he placed there only moments prior. But fear not, Tsukishima thinks to himself in an effort to ease any guilt he’s been repressing, solely from the mere thought of hurting you, his most precious darling. It’s nothing that can’t be fixed with a regular dab of aloe vera…

#yandere haikyuu #yandere haikyu x reader #yandere hq #yandere tsukishima #haikyuu x reader #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei x reader

169 notes · View notes

pridepurgatorium · 10 months

Text

— Breaking My Back Just To Know Your Name

Lucifer/reader, mature ???, Lucifer mentions sex because of course he does; implying he’ll do the reader

Original AO3 link here.

My fic for Lucifer’s birthday, subjecting him to 2000’s pop music

As an angel nor a demon, Lucifer never particularly cared to remember how old he was, or when the passing of a year came.

He liked to keep track of when centuries passed, but he was only slightly younger than the Earth itself. Why would he care about the passing of a year, decade, century, or millennium? It aids him in no way, it does not bring him satisfaction or joy to be reminded of how much time has passed.

Until you came.

Of course if anyone were to flip his mindset on its head it’d be you.

His brothers were very demanding in their need for affection from you and quite frankly he thought himself superior to them in that aspect. All of them, to varying degrees, wanted to be near you and enjoy time with you but he did not demand such things, you had your hands full as is and he had his fair share of work and business, being the eldest of 7 unruly brothers. It’s not as if he didn’t want your attention, quite the opposite in fact he craved it just as much as his brothers.

He knew that should he ask (which would never happen because he is the Avatar of Pride and he does not ask for Affection™️), you would most certainly provide him it in an instant, not one to miss an opportunity to dote on him. But he does not want to force your hand, you're much too soft-hearted in his opinion, seemingly unable to tell any of them no.

It wasn’t as if he didn’t see you often either. You two were dating (and he was planning his proposal) so of course he saw you a lot and he was guaranteed to see you at night because you slept in the same room, but it’s admittedly not a good time for talking as at least one of you passes out the minute their head hits the pillow. The only way you two could actually converse is if you force open time from your busy schedules to see each other. All in all, he is just desperate to see you more (and will never say that).

However…

Birthdays are different. He has a perfectly valid excuse to ask you to spend your time with him rather than his brothers.

And he uses it, calling you to his room after the cake candles have been blown out (A tradition you insist on even though their true age could never fit onto a normal-sized cake in birthday candles??? Why MC?) and the gifts opened, he all but demands your attention.

“My Morningstar, to what do I owe the pleasure?” You ask, clearly teasing him, you know exactly what he wants.

“You dare tease me? On my birthday? Why I ought to see if that attitude sticks when I’ve bedded you and given you a couple orgasms” He replies almost making you blush.

“Ok! Ok! I’m just teasing, no need for all that!” You say through giggles as you make your way to his lap, showering his face in kisses.

“Besides, it's your birthday! If anything maybe I should be the one giving you orgasms hm?” You say, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“While I do love the sound of that, I believe that may be a venture for another night my dear” Lucifer replies cheekily.

After an affirmative hum from you the room falls into a comfortable silence. A bit of banter from you and questions about if he liked the gift you bought him (It was a matching necklace set that was associated with an instrumental record he enjoyed. Something something stories in the instrumentals?? You were trying and that’s all that really matters right?) which he responded in the affirmative.

While talking about whatever topic you can think of and convincing (forcing) Lucifer to listen to 2000’s pop may not seem all that special, to him, there’s nothing in the world that could ever replace it. He knew that you’d plan something fancier and official-er when his small family party concluded. For now though, it was just you and him and the expanses of both of your minds and there’s nothing he would trade it for.

It may have been his birthday, but the only way he can celebrate it happily is because you are here by his side.

#lucifer fluff #obey me #lucifer obey me #obey me shall we date #omswd #omswd lucifer #lucifer x reader #omswd x reader #obey me lucifer #purgatory’s fanfics

62 notes · View notes

xocasper · 1 year

Note

OKAY BESTIE HERE WE GO

so long haired Mikey is absolutely a dom. End of story, I don’t care. That man looks like the most innocent human on the planet which means he’s definitely the filthiest in bed. That’s just science.

So I’m thinking, reader is determined to get a reaction out of him because he’s so quiet and sweet that they’re conVINCED that he’s got some dirty secrets (obviously they’re right) and the punishment when they push him too far is just *chefs kiss*

I’m thinking restraints, degradation that turns into praise fast enough to make your head spin, overstimulation, as many terms of endearment as you can possibly imagine, a few lil toys here and there just to add to the excitement

And then the moment things are over he’s back to being this cute lil shy guy again and they know that nobody would EVER believe them if they talked about just how good Mr ‘I Rarely Say More Than Two Words in an Interview’ is in bed

(god I am so needy I’m so sorry I just have Too Many Thoughts™️ about him)

The Quiet Ones

Pairing: Mikey Way x Reader Summary: The quiet ones are always the dirtiest, and Mikey's as shy as they come. You're positive that he's got a few filthy fantasies of his own; you just need to open him up a little. Warnings: NSFW content Word Count: 4653 A/N: My kinktober routine is still ingrained in me. I need to realize that I can do things other than writing. Anyway, this is my first time writing a request in forever, so I hope you enjoy it!

Sex with Mikey was… well, sex.

It wasn’t exceptional. Mikey himself was exceptional, long and filling, but it felt like the same gig every time. Night after night, you’d have vanilla sex, and as lovely as it was, it was boring. Worse, you just knew he was hiding his kinks. While many people adopted the ‘quiet and innocent’ theory, you adopted the polar opposite one—the quieter, the dirtier.

Mikey spent so much time in silence that he had to be thinking of something filthy. At least once, he must’ve thought of you in a different light, brainstorming all the things he wanted to do to you. You just had to get them out.

Your first move was after sex one night. The room was quiet and serene, and Mikey held you tight in his arms while you planted kisses across his collarbones. He didn’t say much, just an occasional, “You’re so pretty,” to which you’d give a light laugh and shake your head.

“Mikes,” you said out of the blue, glancing up at him.

He looked down, giving you a tight-lipped smile as he caught your eye. “What’s up?”

“Do you… ever want to try something new?”

After a moment of thought, he shrugged. “Sure. What do you want to try?”

Perfect. All you had to do was rile him up enough to reveal some filthy secret. Then, you’d get the change you’d been craving.

“Mm, you could tie me up,” you started, watching his brows raise in amusement. “I’d let you do whatever you want to me. Use me, even.”

He grinned, giving a cynical, “Really?”

You nodded matter-of-factly, and he slipped back into his pensive state. Prodding further, you asked him the same question. “What do you want to try?”

He paused, chewing his lip as he thought. His hands roamed your waist, caressing your lower back as he developed an answer.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “You could dress up real pretty for me. I guess just whatever you want to try.”

You tried not to show your disappointment, nodding and leaning up to kiss him. As you pulled away, you could’ve sworn he had a grin on his face—not a sweet smile, but one of pure mischief. He had to be hiding something.

Your next approach took place a week later. Mikey was sitting in the living room, watching some science fiction movie when you wandered in. Like a cat, you curled right up next to him, effortlessly distracting him from whatever was on the screen. “Hey,” was all he said, wrapping an arm around you.

Unsatisfied, you shifted into his lap, and he was still unbothered. It wasn’t your goal to bug him, just to be prompted. To be asked a simple “What’s up?” so you could spill a few lewd ideas.

It never came though, Mikey simply wrapping his arms around your waist protectively. Still, you squirmed in his lap, hoping to get comfortable, but he was resilient. His self-control was both impressive and infuriating, even if his body was betraying him. Mikey didn’t say a word as you ground on him indiscreetly, at least not at first.

Finally, after he was hard, pressing against you through his sweatpants, he spoke up. Cracking through the silence came a low, “Behave.”

While it wasn’t the response you wanted, you stilled immediately, pressing back against his chest. “Or what?”

Nonchalantly, he leaned in and whispered in your ear. “Or I’ll have to punish you.”

“How?” you grinned, looking at him smugly.

He ignored your smile, still fixated on the television. “Punishments are not supposed to be fun, baby.”

From there, he ignored you, waiting for his hard-on to go away despite your occasional grinding. There was no way in hell he was giving in this easily.

The final straw had to be a few days after the couch fiasco. You had been working on winding him up all day—teasing kisses in the morning, a heated make-out before he left, and dirty texts during band practice. If he wasn’t harder than ever, you’d be shocked. This would certainly do it though—the one thing Mikey had mentioned was lingerie, and you had certainly dressed for the occasion.

You stood in front of the bathroom mirror, fine-tuning your appearance while you waited for your boyfriend to return home. He had told you this morning that he wouldn’t be back until tonight, and how Gerard wanted to make sure that they finished a song before tomorrow. That gave you plenty of time to perfect yourself, and you were pretty damn close. The only thing that was missing were marks from Mikey, typically left in the heat of the moment before he could come to his senses.

With luck, he wouldn’t have any sense tonight, and he’d give you the treatment you’d been aching for. The odds were slim, but not quite zero, so you perched yourself on the bed and waited for him to come home. You didn’t have to wait too long, no more than fifteen minutes, as your phone had just lit up with a text. It was nothing more than an omw, but it still made you smile, already anxious for his arrival.

Fifteen minutes should not have been as long as it was. It was like waiting in traffic when you’re running late–too fucking long, and too fucking stressful. You were already worked up, as Mikey hadn’t left your mind all afternoon. Every thought drew back to him, and an onslaught of filthy ideas would come with it, washing away your patience and composure. Surely, he’d understand if you started early–he wasn’t home yet anyway. Besides, you could always quit before he came inside, right?

It seemed fair to you, so there you were; resting against the headboard with your legs spread, waiting another minute or so before starting. You checked your phone–no texts. All fifteen minutes had passed since he texted his departure, and he still wasn’t home. You waited a moment, listening for the door to crack open, but all you heard was silence. That was really all you needed, already sliding your hand past your waistband.

All of your wistful fantasies seemed to flash to the forefront of your mind–his hands on your body, past the pretty lace panties you had picked out just for him. His voice in your ear, telling you how good you’re being for him, and how bad he needed to fuck you. Or, on the flip side, his aforementioned punishment. It was perfectly dirty, and you couldn’t resist touching yourself at the idea of his frustration.

Spending your time striving for friction already had you wet, and your thoughts were only spurring you on more. You needed Mikey, and you couldn't help but moan his name as your fingers circled your clit. God, how you missed his hands, warm and calloused, his fingers always working so much better than your own. They were long and slender, fitting inside of you perfectly. No matter how hard you tried to replicate the sensation, it always fell flat, never feeling as good as him.

You weren’t aiming to mimic him now though, as your sole intention was to relieve the ache between your thighs. Slowly, you dipped a finger inside of yourself, pretending it was Mikey’s as your eyes fluttered shut. God, the things you would do to have him here now, fucking you in your lingerie, murmuring sweet nothings while you begged to come. You could practically hear him talking you through it, telling you how good you were being, but the only sound in the room was your scattered breaths.

And then footsteps.

You knew Mikey was home, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop. He could probably hear you, every whimper and moan as you crooked your fingers, moaning his name as if he were fucking you himself. Rather than quitting like you originally planned, you sped up, listening to your breathing grow erratic. Your muscles were winding tighter, and warmth seeped through your veins, though you came to a pause as the room stilled.

“What a fucking show,” Mikey grinned, and your eyes shot open. “You look like such a slut, you know that?”

The word was foreign coming from him, and you gasped softly. Leisurely, he made his way over, towering over you at the edge of the bed. “And to think I almost invited Frank over,” he tsked, letting his eyes trail over your form. “I could hear you from the foyer. He would’ve enjoyed seeing you, don’t you think so?”

Any response you had prepared quickly died on your tongue, so you settled for a nod. He continued to look at you questioningly, prompting a verbal response. “What would you have done?” you asked quietly, feigning innocence.

He saw right through you, catching the way your lips threatened to turn upwards. “I dunno,” he shrugged, sitting down beside you. “I think I would’ve let him watch. Or maybe I’d let him fuck you. Show you what happens when you whore yourself out.”

“You wouldn’t punish me?” you teased, pouting as you ran your hand up his leg, resting high on his thigh.

He breathed a sigh, “Nope. That’s what I’m gonna do now.”

You shouldn’t have been as giddy as you were, but you couldn’t help but feel proud of his sudden filth. After weeks of trying to crack him, he’d fallen apart, shedding his sweetness and swapping it for something darker. He no longer looked at you like a porcelain doll, but rather a toy. Someone to be used until they broke, and he would enjoy your diminishment every step of the way.

As quickly as he sat down, he was on his feet again, heading towards the back of the closet. Hidden beneath suits he’d never wear was a bag–nothing out of the ordinary, satin and white. The contents were hidden, but you could guess what they were by the context. Mikey wore a coy grin, setting the bag on his nightstand while he rifled through the bottom drawer. Your relationship was built on trust, so you’d never found a reason to rummage through the side table. Otherwise, you might’ve found the fucking blindfold and cuffs he was hiding in the back.

“I was right?” you gaped, staring wide-eyed at satin and metal.

He shrugged, still grinning like the cat who got the cream. “Oh, come on. You said it yourself—it’s the quiet ones.”

Carefully, he placed the restraints in the palms of your hands, letting you examine them closer. “What do you think is on my mind? You know, when we’re just sitting, watching movies. You’re always in my lap, and you move so fucking much. I swear it’s on purpose.”

Usually, it wasn’t, but it certainly had been intentional the past few weeks. It looked like it worked though, and that was enough encouragement for you to continue. “Mm, I don’t know. What is on your mind?”

“How badly I want to fuck my slut. I could tie you up real pretty, fuck the whore right out of you.”

You looked down at the cuffs in your hands, running your fingers over the cool metal. He spoke up as you opened the latch, “I’ve got a couple rules, and I want you to follow them carefully.”

You nodded, and he took the restraints from your hands. “We’re gonna use a color system—green means go, red means full stop. Yellow’s if you need a break, alright?”

“Okay.”

“Good. Now, I’m in control. You listen to me, and follow my instructions, got it?”

Something stirred inside of you, and you gave a confident, “Got it.”

Satisfied, he held your wrists, sliding the cuffs on and chaining you to the bed frame. He studied you carefully as they tightened—not too much, but enough that you couldn’t break free. You gave a small nod when they were good, and he smiled back at you.

“Color?” he asked.

“Green.”

He thumbed at the blindfold in his hand, grinning wider as he lifted your chin. His confidence and assertion didn’t help the ache you felt, desperately craving his touch. He could’ve at least let you finish before interrupting, but you decided against complaining as the satin slipped over your eyes.

Clicking his tongue, he took a long look at you. “See?” he teased, nearly laughing at his own joke. “It even matches your lingerie.”

You began to speak, aiming for a witty comeback, but his lips pressed against yours before you could respond. Kissing him felt far more erotic like this, unable to see or touch him while he traced over mesh and lace. His kisses were deep, and his tongue traced along your lips before parting them. Slowly, he opened his mouth for you, letting your tongue glide against his. Usually, you would tangle your hands in his hair, tugging and pulling moans from him, but you had to settle for nipping gingerly at his bottom lip. He still responded the same, moaning softly while you smiled, lips clashing once more.

It grew messier from there, desperation getting to the two of you as he caught your lips again, filling your mouth with the taste of him. Someone familiar with something new–confidence and sensuality, his lips never having tasted so sweet. He pulled away slowly, pressing one more lingering kiss to your lips before parting, leaving you alone on the bed.

You couldn’t see him, but you could hear him as he shuffled towards the end of the mattress, and the sound of clothes hitting the floor. He made quick work of them, climbing onto the bed in nothing more than boxers. “Fuck, you look so pretty like this. Can’t believe you got all dressed up for me,” he said as his hands crept up your thighs.

“I always wanna be pretty for you,” you breathed, shifting as his fingers danced along your waistband.

He smiled, “And you always are. ‘Specially in those photos you sent me earlier. I should punish you just for that, baby.”

“Why?” you frowned, gasping as the cool air hit your skin. “You didn’t like them?”

He slid your panties off and pressed his fingers to his tongue, waiting until they were slick to speak. “Of course I did. But anyone could’ve seen how slutty you looked, touching yourself for me.”

You whined softly as his fingers brushed over your clit, rubbing easy circles before teasing your folds. It wasn’t fair—you couldn’t see the Cheshire grin he always got when he spread you open, teasing you for being so wet. The only option left was to picture it, how smug he looked at the sight of you, pairing it with the feeling of his fingers tracing over your cunt. Overeager, you arched into his touch, only for him to pull away.

“Behave,” he said sternly, tentatively placing his hands on your skin again. “Stay still, alright baby?”

The nickname and his tone clashed beautifully, and you held back a whine as his fingers slowly dipped inside of you. Meanwhile, you could hear the sound of rustling, undoubtedly from his mystery bag. Arousal and anticipation swirled in your stomach, and a quiet moan left your lips as he curled his fingers. As predicted, they felt far better than yours–thicker and longer, brushing against all the right spots. Already wound up from earlier, it didn’t take much work for small gasps and light moans to fill the air. It all came to a sudden stop though, and the room fell quiet–except for a whimpered objection.

“Why’d you st–” you started, frowning before you were cut off by a subtle buzz.

Another gasp slipped out, and then a moan as he pressed the toy to your cunt. His fingers slipped out, now fully replaced by the vibrator as it pressed against you. He purposely avoided your clit, watching with amusement as you writhed before him. It was shocking coming from Mikey, his sudden expertise and mockery, but you couldn’t say you minded.

“Aw, stay still,” he taunted, pressing your hips against the mattress while they bucked off the bed. “Does that feel good?”

Slicing through a moan, you managed to give him a, “Yes.”

“Yeah? What if I ate your pussy at the same time?”

With a frantic nod, you choked out a plea, enthusing him further. “Honey, you’re fucking dripping for me. I wish you could see yourself.”

Hopelessly, your cuffs rattled against the bed frame, and you gave a small whimper as he spread your legs further. The sensation stopped for a moment, but the buzzing continued; not only the sound, but blissful waves continued to wash away your self-restraint. Another rustling noise followed, but this time it was sheets, and Mikey had planted himself between your thighs. At once, the vibration had returned, on a higher setting and centered on your clit while Mikey lapped at your cunt.

He was meticulous, flicking his tongue leisurely and letting the toy do its job. It sure did, and he could barely touch you before an orgasm came racking through you. A wanton cry spilled out, and the vibrator was swiftly replaced with his mouth. Just as quickly, his hands slipped beneath your thighs, holding you close while he cleaned you up.

“You’re so good to me,” he mumbled, lips wet with arousal. “Shame I still need to punish you.”

You groaned, having forgotten about his promise. It wasn’t necessarily a protest, but you dreaded the idea of what he would pull out next. You figured being cuffed was a punishment, but it seemed that Mikey had more in store for you. While you searched for an answer, he continued to swirl his tongue against you, sucking at your used clit.

“Fuck, please, Mikey,” you babbled, and he smiled against you. “I want more.”

You really didn’t know what you were getting yourself into, but you were too drunk on overstimulation to care. Your legs shook as his tongue worked, showing no signs of stopping, though he was tempted to talk you through another orgasm. To your surprise, he pulled away, and you whimpered once more. Foolishly, you tried to reach for him, but the cuffs held you back.

“You’re cuffed, darling,” he teased, pressing a kiss to your cunt before pulling away.

The sound of more rustling hit your ears, and you squirmed impatiently. “I was about to come,” you whined.

“No, you weren’t,” he corrected. “And you won’t come again until I tell you to.”

That must’ve been your punishment. As much as you wanted to object, pleading for him to be a little more gracious and let you come, you knew better than to argue. He had explicitly stated earlier that you play by his rules–a condition that you eagerly agreed to. Now, you had little choice but to obey him and hope that he was merciful.

Unable to see what was taking him so long, you listened closely to your surroundings. A small noise from Mikey as he sat on his knees. The click of a cap. The squeeze of a bottle. It didn’t take long for you to figure out that he was using lube, but your question was why. He rarely used it when getting himself off, and you hardly believed he would touch himself without you–though it would be one hell of a penalty.

Before you, Mikey sat lubing up a dildo, similar in size to his cock. It was slightly thicker than him, length just above average, and he grew hard as he pictured your cunt wrapped around it. He’d see it soon enough, as you were already shifting around with inquiries on your tongue.

“What are you doing?” you asked curiously, still catching your breath from earlier.

He hummed sweetly, “You’ll see. Or feel, rather.”

You gave a sarcastic laugh at his joke, though you nearly choked as the tip of the dildo stroked your folds. It was cool against your skin, and you jolted slightly while Mikey continued to brush it across your cunt. He held the base firmly, slowly pushing it inside of you, watching in awe as you immediately clenched around it.

“Such a pretty fucking pussy,” he said, pressing his hand against your abdomen. “Taking it so well, huh?”

You moaned, “Wish it was you.”

It was hardly sweet talk, as your tone was honest. Mikey had to fight himself right then and there, resisting the urge to fuck you for the sake of edging. Besides, it gave him time to pull pretty little whines from you, all while watching you writhe for him. You did just that, squirming on the bed and bucking your hips as he pushed the cock deeper, watching as you took it with avarice.

“You’re so greedy, baby. You want more?”

Hastily, you nodded, and he pushed almost completely inside, beginning to set a rhythm. You mewled as he thrust it inside of you, Mikey fixated on your pretty cunt. Mainly how well you were taking it, arching off the bed, and shamelessly begging him for more. In an act of sheer indulgence, he pulled his hand away from your thigh and began rubbing himself through his boxers. He was already leaking, staining the fabric as his cock wept, begging to fuck you.

“Please, please, please,” you cried like a mantra, screwing your eyes shut as you sunk your teeth into your bottom lip.

He moaned at the sound of you, your vulnerability and greed, thrusting the dildo faster while you pleaded with him. “Please let me come, I’ll be good I swear, please,” you sobbed, shaking while he watched with pride.

“Not yet, hun,” he goaded, receiving another cry in response. “You can do it. Be good for me, ‘kay? Hold it a little longer.”

With nothing more than determination and willpower, you fought against your body, clenching your hands into tight fists. This is a punishment, Mikey reminded himself, repositioning the cock as his hand returned to your clit. The stimulation was too much, between his fingers rubbing tight circles and his insistent penetration.

“Mikey, please,” you begged, your body betraying you as you arched into his touch. “I can’t hold it anymore, please.”

He gave you a moment of mercy, slowing his pace. “Color?”

“Fuck,” you breathed, chest heaving. “Green, Mikey, fucking green.”

Groaning out a curse, he sped up again, drowning in arousal as you begged for him. “Just a little longer, I promise. You can do it, baby.”

You were positive that you couldn’t, feeling tears prick your eyes as your muscles wound tight. Your whole body was on fire, begging for relief while you babbled broken sentences, hoping that he would understand. Finally, Mikey let out a low moan, watching you clench around the dildo once more.

“Come for me.”

Three golden words and you could feel the tension in your body cease, euphoria shooting through your veins as you came around the silicone. It was fucking incredible, bliss and serenity settling over you while Mikey pulled the cock out.

“Christ, you’re a mess,” he said, though you could feel the smile in his voice. “Think we can get one more, pretty baby?”

Drunk on his touch, you couldn’t help but crave him. His cock, his hands, his lips on yours. Caught up in the thought of him, you gave a desperate, “Yes, please.”

This time, he was merciful, standing from the bed and grabbing the handcuff key from the nightstand. He quickly uncuffed you, and your arms felt like weights as they dropped from the frame. Next went the blindfold, untied just as swiftly by a needy Mikey, desperate to fuck you. After the show he’d just had, he longed for your touch more than anything.

“Hey, angel,” he breathed, gently cupping your cheek while you adjusted to the light. “One more, right?”

You would never say no to that smile, nodding tiredly at him. “One more.”

“That’s my good baby.”

Your lips met his, and he kissed with a contrasting speed. It was slow and soothing, though his passion stayed consistent. Rather than moving with his former rough pace, his lips moved fluently against yours, letting his tongue sweep across them in easy strokes. Weakly, you threaded your hands in his hair, pulling him closer and eliciting a light moan, letting your tongue dip into his mouth. For the first time all night, you had a sliver of control, but Mikey didn’t mind.

He let you relax into the pillows again, finally catching your breath while he rifled through the drawer for a condom. Once he was on the bed, your hands peeled down his waistband, revealing how needy he had grown all this time. He gave a subconscious jerk, bucking gently into your hand as you rolled the condom on.

“You look real pretty,” he told you honestly, watching as you unfastened your bra, tossing it over with your panties. “And you did so well for me.”

You simply smiled up at him, letting him bend your knees while he positioned himself, slowly pushing into your used cunt. He had followed your fantasy from all those nights ago, using you perfectly until you were a whimpering mess. Now, he was taking things slow after nothing but speed, and you couldn’t have been happier.

He moaned as he rolled his hips against yours, losing himself in the sensation. After watching the way you took the toy, he ached for you. For him to be inside of you, fucking you open and watching you come on his cock, not silicone.

“My pretty baby,” he said again, gazing down at you as he set a steady pace. “You take me so well, you know that? You were practically made for me.”

Mikey was so fucking sweet, and you couldn’t help but moan as he pressed gentle kisses to your lips. As much as you loved how rough he was, your Mikey was back, thrusting slowly as he held you in his arms. You melted in his touch, mewling softly as he sped up, hooking your arms around his neck to pull him closer. Gently, he wrapped your legs around his lower back, rocking his hips deeper and watching as your back arched off the bed.

“That’s it,” he coaxed, burying his face in your neck and pressing pretty kisses to your skin. “Feels good?”

You nodded and moaned as he quickened his pace, letting his hand press against your abdomen. The muscles there had pulled themselves taut, growing tighter with each thrust, and a familiar warmth had spread through you. Mikey pushed gently, kissing at your jaw as you gave a few breathy whines, the pressure intoxicating.

“You can do it,” Mikey hummed, pulling his head up to kiss you again. “Can you come for me, hun?”

Gasping lightly, you tugged him closer. “Mhm, fuck.”

The breathy response had his pace quickening ever so slightly, pushing you closer until you were swimming in ecstasy. “Just like that,” he murmured, groaning quietly as you clenched around him.

With a few more thrusts, Mikey was coming undone, chest heaving as his thrusts slowed. He pulled out soon after, rolling over next to you while his arm snaked around your waist. You cuddled into his chest, and your eyes began to fall shut before shooting back open.

“Oh my god,” you said suddenly.

Mikey grew alert, “What’s up?”

You huffed a laugh. “No one is ever gonna believe this.”

He grinned, “Yeah? Who’ve you been telling about our sex life?”

“No one! But just in case, you know? They’ll never believe that you’re kinky. Ever.”

Mikey laughed this time, “Why aren’t I allowed to have kinky sex?”

“You are!” you defended, swatting his chest while he cackled. “It’s just–you’re so quiet, they’ll never believe it.”

His laughter faded, and he pressed a sweet kiss to the top of your head. “It’s the quiet ones, darling.”

taglist: @lubbockshusband @yachiiko @newgirlinhell @blackberryblossom @whothefuckisfranklero @griffinfinity @heaveaux @aliceblxck @ce-ci @halloweenbitch2764 @saywhaaaa @bluemarzbars @demolitionlvvrs @bonbon1987 @lankysimp @ghostsinthesnowandsun @doc-martens-enthusiast @couldbegayer1234 @chronicallythicc @haunted-daydream @destroyarunaway @eddiesprincessofhell @sy-nx @v3nuslvrr @artistheweap0nn @purple_liciouss @bringm0reknivez @garfieldenthusiast420 @cryeppy

#mikey way x reader #mikey way smut #mcr x reader #mcr smut

271 notes · View notes