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nolesserhuman · 7 months

Text

Poe + reader; thigh riding

~1.6k words

18+ content, minors dni

notes: I typed this on my phone at work so please forgive any mistakes!!

ao3

For someone who's eternally dressed like he's straight out of a gothic romance novel— for someone who carries a live raccoon everywhere he goes— Poe is incredibly shy. It was, at times, adorable; seeing his soft face light up in shades of sunset pink whenever he caught those hints of straps and lace underneath your clothes, the promise of getting to unwrap you as soon as he got home.

And then there are times like tonight, when you're so desperate to convince him, but he keeps coming up with excuses.

"I'm too much bigger than you!" Poe protests for what feels like the hundredth time. "I would be too heavy—"

You're nestled on his couch— soft, luxurious leather imported directly from England— with your feet planted firmly on the dark mahogany of his living room floor. Or is this the drawing room—? Either way, you puff your cheeks out into a pout and bat your eyes up at him. That always works on his weak resolve.

"But that's what I want!" You whine. You stretch your arms out in front of you, making grabby hands even though he's out of your reach. "I want you to sit on my thigh, Poe— I wanna see your face when you—"

"Shush—!" Poe interrupts loudly, his voice cracking with embarrassment even in such a small, lonely word. His face floods red as he hides under his bangs, and you haven't even said anything too lewd yet. He presses a hand to his mouth, delicate fingers splayed across his thin lips as some kind of defense. "You— don't have to be so crude," he mumbles. "I'll do it..."

Your eyes light up so brightly that he has to look away. "C'mere, c'mere!" You coo up at him; Poe takes a few hesitant steps forward, finally bringing him into your reach. Your excited hands are quick to latch onto his hips, squeezing and kneading at him through his too-many layers of clothes.

A shuddering sigh floats out of Poe's throat. He's always been weak to your touch; your hands are smaller than his, but still manage to hold him as if he's the most precious thing in the world. His body isn't particularly solid, and he's certainly not as soft as you are— but your fingers ghost over the planes of his chest, the jut of his hips, and he finds himself melting into each and every one of your whims.

Your grip tightens on his hips, pleading with him to finally move. "C'mon, Poe," you urge him in a soft voice, "please don't be shy about this; I promise, you're not too big. I'll hold you anyways."

"...okay, you win," he whispers. All at once Poe swings his long leg across your hip and perches himself awkwardly in your lap. One foot remains firmly on the floor, his other leg pressed into the sofa cushions beside your thighs. He hovers there for a moment, obviously hesitant to rest all his weight on your smaller body.

Clearly he's not listening to your more gentle directives.

With one more sweet glance up at him— mouth pulled into a pout as your eyelids flutter— you yank with all your might. Poe tumbles into your lap with a startled gasp, his chest pressed against yours, and your thigh coming up further between his legs to give him something to settle on.

Poe's crotch grinds against the fullness of your thigh. His eyes widen and an unintentional "oh" tumbles out of his mouth.

A grin paints its way across your face. "See the appeal now, Poe?" As if to demonstrate your point, you tighten the muscles in your thigh and nudge against his clothed dick once more.

He gasps softly. "Darling," he starts in a shaky voice, "are you sure you've thought this thr— oh." Poe's voice dies at the sudden strength in your hands when you begin to rock his hips against your thigh. One small movement is all it takes to short-circuit his brain; some rational part of him gnaws at his thoughts, urging him to remember the size difference between you both, and this particular couch is a bit too expensive to make a mess on—

The rest of him simply enjoys the brief wave of electricity that pulses up his spine when your plush thigh presses against his dick just right. Without thinking, Poe grinds his hips down again, earning himself another quick electric jolt. Your grin and your nails are sharp.

Your pretty boyfriend whines and wraps his arms around your shoulders to hold himself upright in your lap. He buries his flushed face in the crook of your neck, and you can feel the heat that rolls off him in waves— you're entirely unsurprised to feel his cock already hardening against your thigh. He's always been sensitive when you're involved. It takes him a moment to find a rhythm; his movements are slow and languid as you guide him along, dragging him back and forth a few more times before his own body takes over, continuing to roll his hips without your influence.

"Not as shy as you like to act, hmm?" Your hands begin to wander down, kneading at the softness of his own thighs, dragging your nails across his waistband as he rocks against you. His breath hitches in anticipation, but the next touch never comes— you pointedly ignore his erection where it strains against the fabric, and he chases the warmth of your hands with another jolt of his hips.

When you giggle, Poe lets out a low groan and tries to hide his face again— he's entirely unsuccessful, because your hand tangles in his soft hair and gently drags his face away from your neck. His voice comes out as a soft whimper. "P— please, darling—"

"Awh, don't make noises like that," you hum, using your grip on his soft tresses to manhandle him a bit closer so you can press open-mouthed kisses across his jaw. "—not for anyone else, at least."

Poe nods lazily and tilts his head to grant more access to his neck as he continues to rut against your thigh. The friction against your jeans is delicious against his weeping cock, a tell-tale stain already spreading across the front of his pants and smearing up your thigh.

All his previous worries about overwhelming you with his size melt away when you press your thigh up and drag him back down. Poe shudders as his body melds against yours, his arms untangling from your shoulders so he can grab fistfuls of your shirt instead, his hands trembling as he tugs on the fabric. Heat pools in his stomach. His voice is slurred. "—close," he whispers, eternally shy no matter how many times you talk him into these things.

"Easy is what you are," you snicker as your hands latch firmly back onto his hips.

Poe whines again, pouting up at you from where his face is nestled against your collar. His long lashes flutter and he huffs, his breath rolling across your skin and raising goosebumps. "Don't be mean," he punctuates the sentence with a nip to your collarbone.

You hiss as his teeth graze against your skin, making your body jolt against his. Poe's breath hitches again; his head falls forward and his eyes flutter shut. The hand tangled in his hair drags his face back up to meet his, sloppily mashing his lips against yours so you can press your tongue into his mouth. A full-body shudder races up his spine and forces the air from his lungs in a breathy whine.

"I told you, Poe," you mumble against his swollen lips, "I wanna see your face."

"Please—!" He doesn't even know what he's begging for as he ruts against you— any kind of attention would be enough, all he knows is that you're tantalizingly warm and his cock is aching. When you pull back to look at him, he tries to follow the sweetness of your mouth, only for you to once again pull his hair and make him moan.

His cute little whines go up in pitch, and even with his eyes tightly shut, he can feel the intensity of your gaze on his burning face. Sheer embarrassment pools in the pit of his stomach and mingles with the rest of his arousal until the cocktail is just a bit too much.

Poe's hips stutter. Tears prick at the corner of his eyes, his pretty lashes fluttering again— he does his best to hold your gaze in the way he knows you like, but when you release your grip on his hair, he immediately buries his face back in your neck. His body relaxes and his whimpers devolve into a soft, shuddering gasp as he finally cums against your thigh.

Even after his climax, your hands rest on Poe's hips and drag him back and forth a few more times. Aftershocks of that pleasure race up his spine and he grumbles against your shoulder. "—'s too much," he huffs, squirming in your lap.

You giggle at his feeble protests and begin to nudge his limp body back upright. "C'mon, I wanna see!"

Poe continues to mumble under his breath, clearly embarrassed, but lets you manhandle him however you want.

You press his thighs further apart to get a proper view of the dark stain spread fully across the front of his slacks, the way his cum has seeped through the fabric and smeared up your own thigh. Poe trembles and his hands flex nervously against your shirt.

"—don't stare so hard," he whines once more, pouting up at you from under his tear-covered lashes. He rolls his hips again on his own and sighs. "What a mess."

You wrap your arms firmly around his waist to keep him in your lap, stretching up to pepper his pretty face with kisses. "You're so good for me, Poe," you hum, and the praise makes him squirm in your lap. Your grip tightens. "—let's make a bigger mess."

I don't write much nsfw bc I don't feel like I'm very good at it, but I'll never get better if I don't practice!! Thank you for reading!

#bsd #edgar allan poe #smut #bsd smut #x reader #reader insert #poe smut #+mine

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nolesserhuman · 6 months

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"mahou shoujo // trick or treat" Ranpo + fem reader ~2.9k words warnings: 18+ content, minors dni notes: does this count as subby Ranpo? ao3.

“Is Halloween as big a deal here as it is back home?”

Ranpo tilts his head at your question, soft hair brushing his face as he meticulously arranges his Skittles by color. “Yeah, you could say that,” he hums without looking up; he is, as usual, more interested in his candy than a conversation. A smile twitches across his mouth. “Obviously it’s a big deal to me,” he says, stating something that you could’ve guessed on your own. Then he regathers his Skittles back into a rainbow and tosses them all into his mouth.

Your face lights up at that. When you lean back in your desk chair, it rolls across the office’s hardwood floors, wheeling you over to Ranpo’s side at his lone island. “We should do a couples costume!” The closer you get, the further he slouches over his remaining pile of Skittles, a vain attempt to shield them from your sticky fingers. You do manage to snatch at least one before he can hide them.

“Hey!” He sticks his tongue out at you and bats your hand away before you can snatch any more. “Couple’s costumes are stupid,” he grumbles; you can’t tell if he actually means that, or if he’s just trying to get back at you for the stolen Skittle. “—besides, I’ve already got a costume planned.” Resting his chin in the palm of his hand, a smirk lazily floats across his face, a familiar tint of mischief sparkling in his eyes. “I’m sure you’ll love it when I show you.”

It’s not uncommon for Ranpo to play games like this; he loves knowing things you don’t, occasionally treating your relationship like a chess game where one unlucky player— often you— doesn’t actually know the rules. All day at work, no matter how much you’d whine or plead or bat your eyes, Ranpo refused to budge, seeming proud of his little secret.

Until you got home.

Rolling a hard candy between his teeth, Ranpo drags you into his bedroom, nudging you to perch yourself on the edge of his mattress. Even on the walk to his apartment he hadn’t given up any information— but now, he’s almost bouncing on his toes the closer he gets to revealing something as simple as a Halloween costume. You can’t help being suspicious when he’s like this. With an order of “Stay here, I’ll be right back,” he disappears into his bathroom and shuts the door.

The lock audibly clicks into place. You’re left with nothing but your thoughts and the suspicious rustle of fabric that drifts through the wood.

Of course your mind wanders; he seems more excited about this than you are, and you can’t help but wonder what kind of outfit would have Ranpo Edogawa, of all people, so giddy. In the entire time you’ve known him, he’s never shown even a passing interest in fashion— that’s the entire reason he’s so enamored with his damned cape, after all.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the door swinging back open. Ranpo steps out into his bedroom, his eyes studying your face as you study his ‘costume.’

“—oh.”

At your timid reaction, Ranpo’s pretty face curls into a Cheshire-cat grin.

Shoulders bared. A cleavage window for the subtle curve of his flat tits. The skirt, already short enough, made even shorter by the layers of fluffy petticoats underneath. Garter belts on both thighs, held closed by moon-shaped charms, large and reflective enough to betray a glimpse of the lacy fabric just barely hidden beneath his tiny skirt. Thigh-high stockings that dig into the plush of his thighs, such a bright, innocent shade of white that they contrast with the sheer smug on his face. A fucking magical girl outfit.

“Seems like y’like it,” he purrs. Your voice escapes you— as Ranpo makes his way towards your lap, he sways his hips, the fabric of the skirt twirling around his pale thighs like his body is casting a very successful spell. His delicate hands bunch in the petticoats to hike up the skirt as he swings his way into your lap, arms eventually coming to rest around your shoulders to keep himself upright. “—you do like it, right?” He bats his long lashes at you— Ranpo is already well aware of the answer, but he wants to hear you say it. Always gives him a thrill when you confirm his suspicions.

“Looks good on you,” you mumble, eyes continuing to rake up and down his body on display, perched in your lap. Your hands land firmly on his hips, only to dip lower and lower, gently squeezing the soft curves of his ass through the layers of ruffles.

You’re hesitating. Ranpo huffs.

“I didn’t put this on for you t’hold me like a doll, y’know,” he pouts at you, arching his back to press himself further into your touch.

You snicker at his clear impatience and press a quick kiss to his mouth as your hands finally delve underneath the hem of his skirt. Your movements are slow, dragging your nails up his thighs— it makes his skin tingle through the thin fabric of his stockings, and he can’t fight the electric shudder that pulses through him. Your fingers continue their exploration, still moving even lower; the digits slip under the soft silk of his garters and tug them up just a bit before you let go. The elastic snaps back into place, and he squeals at the brief sting. He opens his mouth to tell you off, but doesn’t get the chance— you silence him with another kiss and slip your tongue into his mouth. Ranpo groans, but when your nails graze the thin lace that separates the two of you, you gasp, and it’s his turn to grin against your mouth; all at once you shove his skirt further up his hips to get a proper eyeful.

“Lace?” Your voice is breathy. The panties are already thin enough, but with his precum beginning to drip through and soak the fabric, they’re practically see-through. Ranpo grins and waggles his eyebrows at you until you giggle.

“If you don’t ask any questions, I’ll get you a matching set.” Ranpo lifts his hips enough for you to drag the lacy panties down his thighs, finally freeing his half-hard cock. A contented sigh drifts from his throat as you continue to feel him up, although his mood quickly begins to shift, even as your hands explore, squeeze his thighs or tug his skirt— you’re not touching him enough.

As if you’d heard his impatient thoughts— or at least, noticed the way his swollen cock was tipped with a painful shade of red— your hand closes around his shaft, and Ranpo moans as you give him a few experimental strokes. You’re just teasing him at this point; your grip on his cock is loose, and when he glares at you, you take the hint. You brush your thumb over his slit as you pump his cock, smearing precum down his shaft and making him shiver.

“Just— ah—” Ranpo lets out a shaky breath as he bucks his hips up into your hand. “Just like that—”

“Awful demanding of you,” your free hand digs into the fullness of his thigh, sharp nails leaving scarlet crescent-moons across his milky skin. Your grip on him begins to loosen up, as if to scold him for mouthing off already.

Ranpo huffs again. One eye slides open, glaring defiantly at you with that gorgeous shade of green, as he brings his own hand to clutch at your wrist and keep you from pulling away. His firm grasp holds your hand in place as his thrusts grow erratic. “Maybe,” snark on his sharp silver tongue, “if you’d give me what I need—”

Ah, a challenge.

Ranpo’s voice cracks before he can finish his insult. His eyelids flutter and he groans softly, his head falling forward, chin to his chest. “‘m gonna—” A full-body shudder races up his spine, and Ranpo is whining as he cums, still sloppily thrusting into your warm hand.

“You’re so pretty,” you hum, pressing open-mouthed kisses up his neck. It doesn’t matter that he didn’t last long; you got a show, and that’s the important part. Ranpo squirms in your lap and grumbles as you continue to gently pump his cock and smear his cum up his shaft.

Ranpo sighs as his eyes flutter back open. The heat that blossoms across his face matches the heat in his gaze. “C’mon,” he says; even as his cock softens in your grasp, he bucks his hips again, his own wandering hands moving to squeeze and grope you through your own clothes. “I know that can’t be the only thing you wanted t’do to me in this outfit.”

“You talk too much.” Your hand leaves his cock, and he groans at the loss as you gather thick drops of his cum on your fingertips. “Open that pretty mouth again, Ranpo.”

It’s in Ranpo’s nature to be defiant. He can see right through your intentions with his crystalline eyes. He scowls, instinctively opening his mouth to tell you no, he doesn’t follow orders— but you know him too well. That’s exactly what you were expecting. You press your fingers into his mouth, against his tongue, and a soft whimper immediately leaves his throat. Ranpo’s eyes slip closed again, the tension visibly leaving his body as he swirls his tongue around the digits, lapping at the pads of your fingers as you press down again.

It’s kinda pathetic, actually.

You nudge against the very back of his tongue and Ranpo gags, throat constricting around your fingers as he instinctively bites down. Can’t really blame him for that one, but you’ll remember it.

Despite being a bit bigger than you, Ranpo is lightweight. Withdrawing your fingers from his mouth— and ignoring his pathetic little whines at the loss— you dip your hands under his plush thighs and tip him backwards into bed.

“I think these might be my favorite,” you sigh, settling yourself between his legs. You press a feather-light kiss to the soft fabric of his stockings, your eyes trained on his face for his reaction. His gaze follows your every movement, watching you press those tantalizing kisses up his thigh, his cock twitching back to life each time you dig your teeth in.

Ranpo’s eyes widen and his face flushes an even deeper shade of red; he’s not sure if he’s embarrassed by your position, or if he’s circling around to being embarrassed he gets flustered that easily. Then he huffs, face twisting in impatience instead. “If you’re between my thighs,” he grumbles, “you’re not on my dick. Where you’re s’pose to be.”

“Oh, is that what you’re wanting, Ranpo?” Your tongue lathes against his thigh to soothe the sting of your teeth— to watch him squirm. “For someone so demanding, you’re not very good at telling me what you want.”

Ranpo groans loudly, an irritated sound that usually pushes you to do what he wants. The greatest detective in the world does not beg. He doesn’t. He doesn’t. He does.

“—fuck me already,” he bites out. He tilts his head back and slams his eyes shut; he doesn’t have to see your face to know that you’re grinning down smugly at him, and his pride can’t handle that. “Don’t wanna wait tonight. Wanna feel you.”

You just hum, resting against his thigh, teasing him by running your nails against his stockings but refusing to acknowledge his desires. He knows exactly what you’re waiting for.

“—please.” It’s barely a breath out of his mouth. He can feel himself wilting; the first time is always the hardest. After that it becomes natural. “Please,” he whines again, “I just wanna be inside you— can’t stand it, please—”

Even if he is just putting on a show, he always knows exactly what you wanna hear.

“And how hard was that, Ranpo?” You shift until you’re hovering above him, taking as little time as possible to drag your pants off, only shoving your panties to the side enough to tease his swollen cock against your slit.

“Stop teasing,” he demands, pointedly bucking his hips in a vain attempt to feel you. His tip catches on your hole, but you click your tongue and pull back. An exasperated noise leaves his throat before dying into another feeble whine. “Please.”

You hum and lean forward to press a kiss to his chapped lips before granting him any mercy— pumping his slick shaft once, twice, before finally lining him up with your entrance and sinking down on his cock.

Ranpo keens. His eyes roll to the back of his skull, hands scrambling from the bedsheets to your hips, frantic to pull you as close as possible now that he finally gets to feel you. You let out your own shaky sigh, hands splayed across the bright fabric that covers his chest, curling into the expensive satin and feeling it stretch in your grasp. Heat blossoms across Ranpo’s face and spills all the way down his neck. His eyes slide open, and his glassy gaze has warmth pooling in the pit of your stomach.

You roll your hips flush against his and let out an airy moan. He fills you perfectly, as always.

“I changed my mind,” you mumble, “this is my favorite. Feels like you were built for me.”

Ranpo’s eyes flutter shut again, long lashes dusting against his pretty face as his head lolls back into the pillows. Weight braced against his chest, you slowly lift yourself onto your knees before sinking back down. The sensation of his cock filling you pushes all the air out of your lungs. He groans happily as your gummy walls envelop him, his grip tight on your hips and thighs as he feels himself drowning in your warmth. He’s still sensitive— and with the way you’re already clenching around him, he’s not sure he’ll last.

You’re already positively dripping, and he’s coated in the filthy combination of your wetness and his own cum, each movement up and down his shaft filling the room with slick noises that have his face burning. Ranpo’s cock twitches against your walls and he whimpers.

Giggling at how easy it is to reduce him to such pathetic noises, you lean forward and press yourself chest-to-chest with him, resting your forehead flush against his. The change in position had just been so you could peer into his heart-filled eyes as you split yourself open on his dick— but the change in angle also has his cock hitting deeper, nudging at a sensitive spot inside you, forcing a moan out of your throat. You can feel every inch dragging against your walls.

“Feels so— ah— so good, Ranpo—” your voice shakes as hard as your thighs burn, “y’always fill me so well— and you’re so pretty like this too—”

Even simple praise has Ranpo’s eyes rolling back into his head. He takes a deep, shuddering breath, his hips jolting upwards to meet your own thrusts. His arms encircle your waist, intent on holding you still as he sets his own pace now, sloppily thrusting up into your eager cunt. His pretty face is tense with the effort it takes to stave off his impending orgasm. He’s already gotten what he wanted tonight— it’s your turn. He can at least do that much.

“Wanna feel you cum around me,” he breathes out. Ranpo finds himself nuzzling into your neck, nipping and kissing his way across your jaw. When his teeth graze against your pulse, you shudder, and the way your walls squeeze him at that is heavenly. He’ll never get enough; one hand leaves the plush of your hips so he can brush his thumb over your clit, and the resulting mewl paints a lazy smirk across his face. His eyelids drop closed again for a moment as he loses himself in you.

His thrusts are sloppy, and he draws circles against your clit in time with his pace. His other hand squeezes your hips before dipping down to grab a handful of your ass, pulling you down on his shaft at a new angle that presses him deeper than ever. His eyes flicker back open— he’s gazing up at you with sheer adoration in those bright green pools, and the pure love in his eyes has you whimpering, your entire body tense as you finally come. Your warm cunt clenches around Ranpo and he quickly follows; head dropped back against the pillows, his eyes roll as he cums, his deceptively delicate hands holding you firm on his cock as he pumps you full.

You slouch limply against Ranpo’s warm chest. Even with him still sheathed deeply in you, you can already feel his cum starting to drip out and down your thighs, but cleanup is a problem for future you. The racing of his heartbeat against your ear serves to lull you into relaxation. One of his hands comes up to prod at your face, poking your cheek and pulling your hair until he gets you to tiredly look up; as soon as you lift that pretty face of yours, he surges forward and slams his mouth into yours, all tongue and teeth, not ready to let go of you yet. His other hand finds yours, still curled tightly in the fabric of his costume; something seems to cross his mind, and he nudges you upright so he can prop himself up on his elbows.

A frown crosses his swollen lips as he catches sight of the blue satin; it has been stretched out, and the skirt is sopping with the combination of your slick and his cum. “Damn,” he sighs, “I was hopin’ I could save this thing enough for trick-or-treating.”

I started this on his birthday and wanted to have it up by Halloween, and I'm glad I finished it just in time!! thank you for reading, let me know what you think!!

#bsd #ranpo edogawa #x reader #reader insert #smut #bsd smut #ranpo smut #fem reader #+mine

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