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violentdelightsandviolentends · 10 months

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Web of Lies.

Spencer Reid has always been good at keeping secrets. You just never thought he'd keep any from you.

Pairing - Spiderman!Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Word Count - 3750

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - cursing. mentions of violence and blood. potentially smut in the next chapters.

Author's Note - i am so excited to share this with all of you!! i saw a tiktok comparing marvel characters to criminal minds characters, and couldn't get the idea of spencer as spiderman out of my head. this will absolutely have more than one part, but i'm not sure how many just yet. please let me know what you think!! as always, reblogs, comments and feedback are always immensely appreciated <3

Masterlist. Requests.

Series Masterlist.

You probably should have noticed something was wrong way before you did.

That's the thing about elusive people - and Spencer Reid is one mysterious man.

In many ways, he wears his heart on his sleeve. He doesn't filter his words like most people do - he'll tell you exactly what he thinks, exactly what he feels. He doesn't sugar coat, he doesn't exaggerate. You can always count on Spencer to tell it to you straight.

But he's not exactly an open book. You know he had a difficult childhood - you've pieced some of it together based on anecdotes and passing comments. You know he's the youngest person to ever work for the FBI, never mind the esteemed Behavioural Analysis Unit. You know he's gentle, kind, loving, supportive, and the best friend and colleague you could ever ask for.

It's just that some days, it feels like there's still so much you don't know. Which is why you never really saw this coming.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

It's Monday.

Spencer Reid has a black eye.

It's not unusual for you to show up to work on Monday with Fridays injuries. Bruises, scrapes, broken bones. They all come along as a part of the job. But the last case you worked didn't involve any physical altercations. No, in fact, it was a surprisingly easy arrest. So why is Spencer black and blue?

He sits down at his desk and turns on his computer, unaware of the way you're watching him like a hawk. Reading him like a book. You're replaying the events of the last case, trying to piece together exactly when Spencer had gotten hurt without you knowing.

"Hey, Spence?" you call, making your way over to where he's sat cross legged in his chair.

His eyes flick up and meet yours, and something in you churns. An alarm bell goes off somewhere in your distant mind, but you silence it, perching on the edge of his desk.

"Are you okay?"

He smiles at you gently, enamoured with the care you reserve just for him.

"I'm good. How are you? How was your weekend? Did you go to the new farmers market in the end? Did you start that book I got you?"

It's not unusual for him to ask you twenty questions at once, so you try to answer them as best as you can, eyes still glued to his shiny bruise.

"Yeah, I'm good. It was good, despite all that rain we had. Luke took me to the farmers market, and we tried these new grapes. Did you know they made grapes that taste like cotton candy? I saved you some, they're in my bag. I'm on chapter three of the book, so nothing has really happened yet. Where'd you get the bruise, Genius?"

You're hoping that your rambling will catch him off guard, and he'll answer without thinking. He looks at you carefully, considering his reply. No such luck.

"Fell in my kitchen. Tripped over my own damn shoes, smacked my face straight into the counter," he chuckles.

It does sound like Spencer. He's clumsy on the best of days, always dropping something or stumbling next to you. It's not far fetched that his own feet have caused him an injury.

You drop the issue, and laugh along with the team when they tease him about his physical ineptitude.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

It's Tuesday.

Spencer Reid is a bad liar.

You're both settled into the cushions of your couch, eyes glued to the television screen. You're watching reruns of a 90s sitcom, the laugh track echoing around the apartment.

"That paramedic was totally checking you out today," you tease gently, poking him with your foot.

A blush instantly rises to his cheeks, the rosy tint a familar picture.

"No she wasn't," he counters, tripping over his words. "She was just doing her job."

"If by doing her job you mean undressing you with her eyes, then yes, she was doing her job."

You're both laughing - you at Spencer's bashful expression, him at your obliviousness.

"Are you jealous?"

He means to tease you, but it comes out more serious than intended. Your smile drops into a surprised smirk, eyebrows raising in shock.

You sit in silence for a minute, before you confess quietly.

"Maybe a little."

Spencer tries to process your words, but his brain doesn't want to work, apparently.

"Wait... you are?"

"I guess," you mutter lowly. "I just... forget I said anything. She was really pretty. Maybe I was just a little intimated."

You jokingly nudge him with your shoulder, and go back to watching the TV. Spencer's brain finally reboots and starts running a mile a minute, thoughts flying around like comets shooting through the night sky.

You sit together for hours, slipping into sleep gently. It isn't unusual for the two of you to doze off on the couch. Sleepovers happen regularly, both of you completely comfortable with the other person.

It's 3am when Spencer shoots up, pulling on his converse frantically.

"What's wrong?" you panic, trying to rub the sleep from your eyes.

"Nothing. I just, uh, I have to go."

He grabs his bag and beelines for the front door without so much as stopping to explain himself.

"Spencer!" you call after him, willing him to slow down for minute. "Has something happened?"

"No, it's fine. I'll, uh, explain some other time. Just... just get some sleep. I've really gotta run."

And with that, he's out the door, leaving you bleary eyed and confused in the middle of your living room.

You fall asleep on the couch, head resting on the sweater that Spencer left behind in his rush to leave.

You're half convinced you've dreamt the events of the evening.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

It's Wednesday.

Spencer Reid isn't at work.

Spencer Reid is always at work.

Emily regularly has to remind him to take time off. Luke teases that he'll steal his vacation hours if Spence doesn't use them. He's always sat at his desk, waiting for everyone else to arrive every morning.

Which is why his absence is making you worried.

The occurrences of last night are still replaying in your head like a stuck video tape, repeating over and over again. You're over analysing every word he said, every move he made. Leaving in a hurry without reason is so unlike Spencer. You consider supernatural forces, or possession, or Freaky Friday style body swapping. There's no logical explanation for his behaviour, you're convinced. Monday's black eye floats back into your mind, and your heart rate rises ever so slightly.

You march up the stairs and knock on Emily's office window with a bit more force than originally intended.

"Come in."

You swing the door open and slam it shut behind you, anxiety coursing through your veins.

"Hey, hey. Are you alright?" she asks, watching the way your eyes are flicking around the room, looking for clues.

"Where's Spencer?"

"What?"

"Emily. Where's Spencer?"

She gets up from her chair to stand in front of you, placing her hands on your shoulders.

"He's sick, some sort of flu, he thinks. I've told him to go back to bed, and to call if he needs anything."

Her words don't reassure you like she thought they would.

"Did he sound sick?"

"Huh?"

"Did he sound sick, when he called?"

"I don't know, really. I guess so."

"You're a profiler, Emily. You should be able to tell if he's sick or not," you snap.

"Woah," she counters. "What's wrong? Talk to me."

You sit down in the nearest chair, and run your hands over your face.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," she reassures, kneeling in front of you. "Tell me what's going on, and I can try to help."

"It's nothing, I'm sure," you rationalise. "I'm just worried about him. Something's off, but I have no idea what it is."

You take a deep breath, Emily rubbing soothing circles into your knee.

"You know, if he were to talk to anyone about what was wrong, it'd be you."

"You think?"

"I don't think, I know."

It's no secret that you and Spencer are close. You've been best friends from the minute you joined the team, forming a connection instantly. As the years have gone by, the feelings have gotten stronger, but the both of you are too scared to admit it to yourselves or each other. You'd do anything for him, and he would do anything for you.

"Maybe you're right. I'll go over there after work and talk to him, see if I can get him to open up."

Emily leans down and gives you a hug, squeezing you a little tighter than usual.

"I'm always here for you. Both of you."

"I know," you smile gratefully. "I appreciate it, boss."

Just as you're leaving her office, Penelope calls you all into the briefing room, giving you no time to think about what could potentially be going on.

You look at the victims faces on the screen, and every single one seems to look like Spencer Reid.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

It's Thursday.

Spencer Reid is having a panic attack.

He's back at work, making a seemingly miraculous recovery from his short lived illness. You went to his apartment last night after work as promised, but your knocking went unanswered. You don't know where he was, but you're worried.

You've been watching him across the bullpen all morning. You're surveying him carefully when his breathing becomes rapid, eyes flickering around the room. He stands up abruptly, practically running from his desk. You follow him instinctively, all the way into the men's bathroom. He's leaning over the sink, hands gripping the porcelain, knuckles turning white. His eyes are locked on himself in the mirror. He looks as if he doesn't recognise who he sees.

"Spence?" you urge gently, careful to keep your voice low. "Are you alright?"

His gaze meets yours over his shoulder, and he tenses even more. A wave of anxiety rolls through you. Usually, Spencer sees you and relaxes - you're like a breath of fresh air. Suddenly, you're not sure where you stand with him.

"Spence, please. Talk to me. I'm worried about you."

"I'm fine," he snaps.

He's never taken that tone with you before. It doesn't make you as sad as it probably should. No, it makes you angry.

"Don't you dare speak to me that way," you hiss, pointing your finger at him. "I am trying to help you. Don't push me away."

"What's it gonna take for you to leave me alone?" he asks viciously.

Your mouth drops open in disbelief, shock painting your features.

"You know what? Fine. Message received."

You turn on your heel and stride towards the door, stopping when you've swung it open. You look at him over your shoulder, and shake your head, a humourless laugh escaping you.

"Fuck you, Spencer Reid."

You slam the door behind you, leaving him alone, chest heaving and hands shaking.

✵

You're marching back to your desk when JJ calls the team together. You take a deep breath and try to release the anger from your body, but it proves difficult. It's tangled itself around your bones, running through your blood like a flash flood. You paint a smile on your face, and take your seat in the briefing room.

Spencer joins a couple of minutes later, choosing to sit across the table, rather than in his usual chair next to you. Luke takes the place instead, and reaches over to rest a hand on your thigh.

"You okay?" he murmurs lowly, careful to not make a scene.

"Yeah," you whisper back, fingers tangling with his where they rest on your leg. "I'm okay."

JJ pulls up the case details on the screen, and Luke doesn't let go of your hand.

"Where are we jetting off to today?" Matt asks, all eyes on the blonde at the front of the room.

"Nowhere, actually. Local, this time."

Everyone breathes a sigh of relief, glad to stay close to home.

"Okay, the nearest PD have just sent this case through, and it's... weird."

"Weird how?" Tara enquires. It's not often that JJ comments on a case before she's shared all of the details.

"It's a man hunt, of sorts. They're calling him a vigilante."

"Ooo, like a supervillain?" Luke chuckles.

When JJ doesn't laugh, he doubles down.

"Wait, we're not actually catching a supervillain, are we?"

Everyone turns to JJ, who looks just as confused as the rest of you feel.

"Well... kinda?"

You allow your eyes to flick to Spencer, who's still breathing heavily, hand gripping the edge of the table. JJ clicks the remote in her hand, and a picture of a man in a red suit appears on the screen.

"This is the guy they're calling Spiderman. He's been spotted at multiple crime scenes over the last few weeks. He's making a hell of a lot of people very suspicious."

"Spiderman? Why is his costume red?" Tara asks, a hint of laughter in her voice.

"Aren't there red spiders?" Rossi counters.

"Reid, are there red spiders?"

All heads turn to look at Spencer, who's gone completely pale. He tunes into the conversation, clearly not listening.

"Hmm?"

"I said, are there red spiders?"

"Yeah," he replies shortly. Everyone waits for him to spit his facts, to explain the different species, but he doesn't. His head drops slightly, a signal that he's done talking.

Everyone watches him in puzzlement, confused by his sudden silence.

"Anyway," JJ starts, "he's been linked to a number of local crimes. It started off as battery, assault, GBH - but last night there was a murder downtown, and he was spotted at the scene. He's prime suspect."

"Apart from, we don't know who he is," Matt adds.

"Exactly. That's why the police department have called us in. They can't handle it on their own."

Penelope starts to pass around case files, everyone flicking through at their own pace. Spencer doesn't even open his, just stares at it where it sits on the table.

"Reid, are you alright?" Emily asks, concerned.

"I'm fine. I just need some air," he replies quickly, taking his papers and striding out of the room.

You watch him go, squeezing Lukes hand a little harder.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

It's Friday.

Spencer Reid is in trouble.

He's in too deep.

He can't remember the last time he took a deep breath.

His shoulders are so tense, it's a struggle to pull his sweater on.

His hands shake as he reads the case file from yesterday again.

Spiderman. Male. Mid twenties to early thirties. Slim build. Tall. Local - knows the area. Must have a connection to the police - perhaps his own radio.

Spencer accidentally knocks his knee into the desk, and winces. The wound he haphazardly stitched throbs beneath his corduroy trousers, and he prays he's not about to bleed through the material. People are asking enough questions as it is.

"Reid, Alvez, grab your jackets. You're going to the crime scene," Emily calls from up the stairs.

You watch as Spencer rises from his chair, making note of the way he's carefully putting more weight on his right leg. He rolls his shoulders once, twice, three times, before picking up his bag and heading out the door. Luke shoots you a wink as he follows him out, making you smile gently.

You decide to take a trip to see Garcia. She always knows how to take your mind off things.

You cruise into her office, instantly sitting in her spare chair, twirling in circles.

"God, you and Genius are like the same person," she giggles. "He does the exact same thing when he comes in here."

You smile instinctively, and then remember the way he spoke to you yesterday. The way he's treated you this week. The way he's acted as if you didn't exist all day. Your smile fades, and she notices.

"Is everything okay with you two?"

You sigh, and take a deep breath to try and prevent yourself from crying.

"I don't know."

"Oh, honey."

Penelope rolls over to you in her chair, wrapping her arms around you tightly.

"He won't tell me what's wrong, and pushes me away when I try to ask. We had a fight yesterday, and now he won't even look at me. I don't know what I've done to make him hate me all of a sudden," you sob, tears running down your cheeks.

"He doesn't hate you," she murmurs soothingly into your hair. "He loves you more than anyone in the entire world."

"I'm not so sure that's true," you whisper.

"It is. I promise you. He's never been good at talking about his feelings. I'm sure whatever it is, he'll tell you soon enough. You'll work this out - you always do."

You let her hold you for a little longer, sinking into her embrace. Maybe she's right. Maybe it'll all be alright.

✵

After work, you try to relax.

You cook dinner, run yourself a bubble bath. You watch a cheesy movie, eat the good chocolate you've been saving. You snuggle into the couch, pulling a blanket over your legs. But you can't settle.

Usually, a Friday night would mean a sleepover. You and Spencer order takeout, tangle your legs together and fall asleep, chattering about nothing and everything. But tonight, you're alone. You can't stand it anymore.

Throwing on the sweater that Spencer left on Tuesday, you slip on your shoes and get in your car. You drive on autopilot, mind zoned out completely. Before you know it, you're parking on the street below Spencer's apartment building.

You're met with silence when you knock on the door. You try again, and still, nothing.

A choked sob escapes you, and you rest your forehead against the wood. The tears flow freely, forming a puddle on the welcome mat.

The welcome mat.

You pull it back roughly, and find the spare key that he irresponsibly leaves there. Letting yourself into his apartment, you inhale deeply. It smells so distinctly like Spencer. The familar scent used to bring you comfort. Now, it just makes you cry harder.

You collapse on his kitchen floor, letting your head fall back against the cabinet. After an hour or so, you allow your eyes to drift closed, knees hugged tightly to your chest.

✵

You're abruptly awoken by a door slamming shut.

You jump to your feet, and let out a startled sound. Running into the living room, you expect to see Spencer, but he's nowhere to be found. You tune in to the sound of running water, and assume he's in the shower. You perch on the edge of the couch and wait.

"What are you doing here?" Spencer asks as he makes his way into the room.

He doesn't sound scared, or confused, or shocked. It almost feels like he knew you were here.

"I couldn't sleep," you reply cautiously. "Where have you been? It's 4am."

"I couldn't sleep either."

"Yeah? Then why are you bleeding?"

He turns towards the mirror on the wall, and lays eyes on a gash across his cheekbone. He definitely didn't see that before.

"Slipped in the shower."

You jump to your feet, rage fuelling your movements.

"Stop fucking lying!"

Now he looks shocked. He's taken aback, stepping away from you slowly.

"I... I'm not," he says meekly. He doesn't even believe his own lie.

"You're doing it again! What did I do, Spencer? What did I do to lose all of your trust?!"

He tries to calm you down, but it just makes you angrier.

"Tell me!" you scream at him. "I'm going insane, Spencer! I'm going fucking insane!"

"It's not your fault," he tries to explain. "You haven't done anything wrong, I promise."

"Then why don't you love me anymore?" you sob. Your knees give way, and you fall to the ground, cries wracking your exhausted frame.

Spencer's heart breaks so hard, he's convicted he can hear it shatter.

He strides over, wrapping his arms around you as tightly as he can. The contact makes you cry more, tears soaking into his t shirt.

"I could never stop loving you," he whispers. "Nothing in the world could ever make me stop loving you."

You pull back to look at him, astounded by his confession.

"I'm trying to protect you," he continues quietly. "I'm doing this because I love you."

You thread your hands through his hair and pull him towards you, pressing your lips to his urgently. He cradles your face and kisses you back, ignoring the way your tears drip down his face. You tug him closer, desperate for this moment to never end.

He's finally here. Back in your arms, where he belongs.

Eventually, you pull away, gasping for air. He looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky, and his eyes well up with emotion.

"Hey," you soothe, stroking his cheek with your thumb gently. "It's okay. You're okay. We're okay."

"I feel like I'm drowning," he whispers.

"Whatever it is, Spence, we'll figure it out. We always do."

"What if we can't this time?"

"Then we come up with a plan B. And a plan C. And a plan D. We've got at least 26 plans before we run out of letters."

He chuckles, but there's no laughter in it. You tilt his chin towards you, so your eyes are locked.

"I'm not going anywhere," you murmur. "No matter what it is, I'm not going anywhere."

He takes a deep breath, and releases it shakily.

"Promise?"

You smile gently, and take a deep breath to mirror his.

"I promise."

He nods slowly, and moves to sit in front of you cross legged. You match his movements and do the same, facing him assuredly.

"I have to tell you something. And you can't tell anyone, ever," he begins. "It's going to change the way you look at me. It's going to change the way you love me. It's going to change everything."

"You can tell me, Spence," you reassure. "You can trust me."

Spencer takes a deep breath - and then a second, and a third. His eyes bore into yours, and he inhales again, before uttering the words that will undoubtedly change both of your lives completely.

"I'm Spiderman."

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ilovepedro · 7 months

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Yellow | joel miller x f!reader

Summary: You and Joel take a well-deserved vacation to the secluded countryside of Texas. Unbeknownst to you, Joel has a special surprise up his sleeve.

Word count: ~3.7k (oopsies)

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: no outbreak AU (Sarah is alive and well, but she isn’t in this), established relationship, smut like lots of it, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected PIV (wrap it up y’all), overstimulation, soft!joel (idc if he’s OOC, i love that big ol’ softie), so much fluff, hella petnames (baby, darlin, babydoll, honey), reader is female, but has no physical description. NO USE OF Y/N

A/N: this is my first time writing any sort of fanfiction with a developed brain lol. i’ve had this idea for a while since Joel’s been rotting my brain for the past year-ish. i'm also a big fan of Pablo Neruda and i was reading some of his poems while listening to my love song playlist so i was feeling sappy lol. this is based on one of my favorite love songs, Yellow by Coldplay. feel free to listen while you read! shoutout to @gracieheartsspedro for your kind words and for giving me the confidence boost to post 🩷 and thank you to all of y’all for being so sweet to me and welcoming me here with open arms <3

star banner by @benkeibear 🌟

Look at the stars

Look how they shine for you

And everything you do

Yeah, they were all yellow

“Dance with me, honey.” The strumming guitar intro to Yellow by Coldplay flutters through the speaker and invades the cool evening breeze as the sun sets. The moon and stars begin to peek through the cotton candy skies. Joel holds his hand out to you as the two of you unwind in the field behind the remote Texas lake house you two are staying at for the week. A long overdue vacation for the both of you, you’ve spent your last full day basking in the refreshing water of the lake, seeking relief from the brutal Texas summer sun.

You gladly take his hand, flashing him a saccharine smile as you intertwine your fingers with his. “Joel Miller, ever the charmer,” you say as he wraps an arm around your waist. He hides his face in the crook of your neck, bashful like a schoolboy. Your stomach flutters as he still manages to give you butterflies after 3 years of being with him. He quietly rasps the lyrics in your ear.

I came along

I wrote a song for you

He lifts his head up to meet your gaze, matching the saccharine look that adorns your face. His heart is so full, so overwhelmed with how much he loves you. You’ve turned him into a sap, but he wouldn’t change a thing. “You’re so damn beautiful, baby. ‘M almost the luckiest man in the world.” You quirk your brow, a curious smirk lacing your features. “Almost?”

And all the things you do

And it was called Yellow

He twirls you with a smile, eliciting a giggle from you. His chest blooms with warmth - a mixture of bliss and nerves. He twirls you one more time, your head thrown back as you let out a hearty laugh. Suddenly, he’s down on one knee holding the most beautiful ring before he loses his confidence to ask you the most important question of your lives. You turn back to him, a gasp escaping your lungs as tears well in your eyes.

So then I took my turn

Oh what a thing to have done

And it was all yellow

“Almost, darlin’, ‘cause you’ll make me the luckiest man in the world after this. You know me better than anyone, darlin’, so ya know ‘m no good at this type of stuff, but I hope you know that I’ll do anything for you, baby. I didn’t expect to find my other half that day we met. Was just tryna get my coffee and go ‘cause I didn’t wanna be late. But, god, you looked so damn cute in that pretty blue sweater. Most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. So beautiful you distracted me and I spilled my coffee all over ya. ‘M glad I did though, ‘r else I wouldn’t’ve taken ya out to dinner to make it up to you. Ended up bein’ late anyway, but I’d be late everyday if it meant seein’ your pretty lil’ smile. You make me wanna be a better man ‘n I hope ‘m everything you could ever want ‘cause ‘s what you are to me. You're the best partner, best woman, best momma. You’re the best momma to Sarah, honey. Can’t thank ya enough for lovin’ her as your own. You make her, us, me, so goddamn happy, baby. I’d be a damn fool if I didn’t put a ring on your pretty little finger, honey. Shit, ‘m one for not doing this sooner. Thank you for lovin’ me and bein’ so patient with my stubborn ass. I know I ain’t easy to deal with. My knees are killin’ me though, baby, so I got a real important question for you: will you marry me, darlin’?”

Your skin, oh yeah your skin and bones

Turn into something beautiful

And you know, you know I love you so

You know I love you so

You’re smiling so hard your face hurts. Tears cascading down your face, which you don’t realize until you taste the salty water on your lips. “Yes, Joel,” you unintentionally whisper, Joel having knocked the air from your lungs. His smile grows wider. He gently slips the ring on your left ring finger. You lean down to kiss him, but he meets you halfway as he goes to stand. He cups your cheeks in his large, warm hands with your hands encompassing his. Pressing a deep kiss to one another’s lips, a kiss full of warmth, life, love - a promise of forever.

“Joel, baby,” you say as you pull away, hands still resting atop his while he delicately holds you. Your voice is wobbly as you’re still silently crying. You’re rendered speechless for the first time in your life. Your heart has never felt this full. You’ve never felt so alive, so complete. “I love you so much. I can’t even put it into words. You’re everything to me and more. I’d be honored to be your wife.” He smiles, tears gleam in his eyes. Joel Miller, the serious, gruff man, is in tears - because of you; a side only reserved for you.

I swam across

I jumped across for you

Oh, what a thing to do

‘Cause you were all yellow

“I meant every word, baby. Every word in that song ‘s true too. ‘S why it’s our song. The stars shine for you, but I think you’re prettier ‘an all the stars in the sky.” He pulls you in for another kiss, just as saccharine as the previous one. You’re both smiling into it. You hum as you pull away. “Baby, what’re you talking about you’re ‘no good at this type of stuff,’ Joel Miller, you’re a poet,” you laugh as you playfully question him. He throws his head back, a belly laugh escaping him. He smiles even bigger as he spots a twinkle in your eye. “Only for you, darlin’.” He moves his hands to your waist again, holding one of your hands in his as he leads you into a dance again. The big, cheesy smiles never leave your faces. Placing your free hand on his shoulder, the two of you sway to the music.

I drew a line, I drew a line for you

Oh, what a thing to do

And it was all yellow

“Forever,” you whisper as you press your nose against his while he sways you both side to side. “Forever,” he repeats. Another kiss is pressed to your lips, a hungrier one, a combination of love and lust. He releases your hand to cup the back of your head while he pulls you in by waist, bringing you closer. You throw your arms around his sturdy middle - the kiss deepens. He licks into your mouth, eliciting a soft moan from you. “Take me to bed, Joel,” you huskily whisper. “Anything for my wife.” You beam at his words. “Not your wife, honey.” “Yet, darlin’. Yet.”

The moon peeks through the window, casting a cool glow on the entire room. The crisp late night breeze ripples the curtains hanging on the window the two of you mindlessly left open as you devoured one another earlier in the evening.

You stir, groggy as you’re awoken by the familiar dull ache in between your legs. Feeling a heavy, but comforting weight on your torso, you turn gently so as to not wake him. Now facing him,Joel’s arm still holds you flushed against his chest.

It’s the middle of the night, the bedside clock flashes 3:30 in small fluorescent blue lights. Both of you spent, as the events of the day having wiped you two out. He slowly, but deliciously wrecked your cunt twice, once with his mouth and once with his cock, before you both drifted off to sleep. He’s still sleeping. He is so beautiful. I’m so lucky.

His plush lips slightly parted as he softly snores. His full lashes lightly kiss his cheeks. Brows pulled into his infamous furrow. You carefully brush the curve of his strong nose, which you rode into the midnight hour, with your left hand. The moonlight catches a glimpse of the ring he gave you just hours ago. A delicate gold band adorning a diamond, 2 smaller stones surrounding it.

Your skin, oh yeah, your skin and bones

Turn into something beautiful

And you know, for you, I’d bleed myself dry

For you, I’d bleed myself dry

Tears well in your eyes as you recall his proposal from the evening. Your heart overflows with content as you admire the man in front of you. You get to fall asleep and wake up like this for the rest of your lives. He is my forever. You softly caress his face, careful not to wake him. Alas, your attempt fails.

Joel begins to stir while you continue to caress his patchy beard as you internally dwell on the thought of being his for eternity. Stretching his taut tan muscles, groaning as he does so. “Ya watchin’ me sleep, babydoll? How long ya been awake?” A sleepy smile creeps onto his face.

“I’m just admiring my gorgeous fiancé’s face. And not very long, only about 5 minutes,” you sigh. His sleepy smile morphs into a toothy grin. “Oh really? I’m sure he can’t be nearly as gorgeous as mine. She’s the most beautiful woman in the world. Your fiancé is a lucky man, honey.” He leans in to press a sleepy kiss to your lips, the two of you smiling into it. It’s soft and sweet, lingering like honey sticking to your lips.

It’s true

Look how they shine for you

He moves his hand from your torso to the back of your head, grasping your hair, deepening the kiss. He pulls you closer, completely flushed against his bare chest. The dull ache in between your legs blooms with desire, transforming into a throbbing need. You moan as his hardening length presses against your exposed cunt. Neither of you bothered to dress before falling asleep.

The kiss grows sloppy as he licks into your mouth, teeth clashing together. You break apart gasping for air. “Joel,” you breathlessly moan as he kisses down your neck and shuffles the two of you so you’re pinned under him. He sucks onto that sensitive spot on your neck near your ear. The spot which he knows drives you crazy.

“Joel,” you moan louder this time. It comes out more desperate than you intended. “Be a good girl and use your words, baby.” He’s so fucking smug, he drives you insane. “Need you, baby. N-need you so bad, Joel,” you gasp as he makes his way down to your breasts.

He hums, sucking a nipple into your mouth as he gropes your other breast, rolling your nipple in between his calloused fingers. “F-fuck, baby. Feels, ah, s-so good,” you say as you arch your back, granting him even more access to your breasts. He moans at your praise, the vibration of it sending shockwaves down your spine to your weeping cunt. Kissing his way down your tummy and finally making his way to where you need him most. Your exposed cunt aches for him to do something - anything.

He hooks both your legs over his shoulders as he kneels off the edge of the bed. He presses soft kisses and nips to your thighs, actively avoiding your throbbing clit. His scruffy beard scratches your thighs, causing more arousal to pool at your sex. Every teasing kiss causes your clit to twitch. He sees it, you know he can, but he continues to act oblivious. You writhe under his touch, growing frustrated as your body yearns for some sort of relief.

“Joel, please, n-no more teas - hmph - teasing” you whine, clearly exasperated. He chuckles at your neediness. “So needy, babydoll. Already fucked your cunt twice last night ‘n you still want more?” “Yes, Joel,” you beg, desperate tears begin to pool in your eyes. “Always want more. Always want you,” you cry out. You quickly see something soften in his eyes, but it disappears just as fast. “Always want you too, darlin’. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of ya. Always do, don’t I?”

Before you could answer, he licks a stripe up your folds, his nose nudging at your clit. Gasping at the relief of finally feeling something, you involuntarily buck your hips up into his face. He places one of his large hands and pushes you back down, the pressure on your stomach causing a new pool of desire to drip from your pussy. You can’t control the moans leaving your lips as he flicks his tongue against your twitching clit. “Joel, f-fuck oh my god, Joel,” you cry out, tugging on his hair.

Your hair tugging elicits a moan from him, the rumble of it causing you to shiver. He eats you out like a starved man, as if he wasn’t doing this just barely 4 hours ago. “Joel, n-need more. P-please, baby.” Obliging your request, he inserts one finger deep inside your pussy, drawing out a high pitched moan from you. He could always reach places you never could, his fingers much larger and thicker than yours.

“Sweetest fuckin’ pussy in the world, baby. My favorite meal,” he says as he inserts another finger into you. Another mewl escapes your lips. He returns his tongue to your clit, relentlessly flicking it. He feels your walls begin to flutter around his fingers as he curls his fingers, hitting your g-spot.

“Right there, Joel! Oh, f-fuck yes, baby.” It sounds obscene as he slurps up your slick while pumping his thick fingers deep into your squelching pussy. You feel light as a feather as your orgasm approaches. “‘s it, baby. Cum for me. Can feel ya squeezing my fingers. Come on, babydoll. Make a mess on my fingers.” He sucks your clit into his mouth causing your orgasm to crash into you. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you seize up under his hold, endless moans streaming from your lips.

Lapping at your pussy, he drinks up all of your cum, letting no drop go to waste. He pulls away, giving you a brief moment of relief. The pale moonlight shines onto him, as if he were some sort of deity from above. He is - he is your saving grace.

He pulls himself up and slots his hips between yours. He teases your wet folds by rubbing his hard, pulsating cock up and down against them, slathering himself in the fresh new wave of slick that runs down your weeping cunt. Pre-cum dribbles from his angry, red tip, smearing over your folds. Without warning, he shoves his cock deep into your pussy in one thrust, buried to the hilt.

“Oh fuck Joel! S-so fucking big, so, shit, so deep.” “You can take it, baby. Ya always do.” His pace is brutal, his thick cock brutally kissing your cervix with each thrust. He hikes your legs up, placing your ankles on his shoulders, practically bending you in half. You scream at the new position. You’re so loud, you’re thankful there are no neighbors around here. He’s always so deliciously deep, you’ll never get used to it.

He picks up the pace, your thighs begin to burn and your cunt still aches from being stuffed repeatedly. The line between pain and pleasure blurs, but you feel so damn good. Tears begin to fall from your eyes as you clamp down on him. The pornographic sounds of moans, pants, and your squelching cunt fill the room. You’re already so close as you had no time to come down from your first orgasm.

“Fuck, darlin’. Ya hear that? Hear how fuckin’ wet ya are for me? Feel so fuckin’ good. Can’t believe I get to have this tight little pussy for the rest of my life. ‘S mine. All mine. Can’t wait til, ah, til you’re my pretty little wife.” He groans, as you clench around him. His words spurring you on. “‘S yours, Joel. ‘M yours, all yours, baby,” you manage to slur out. He’s close, you can tell as his thrusts get sloppier. “Come on, baby, gimme another. Need to feel you soak my cock.”

He licks the pad of his thumb and swirls it on your clit. You tumble over the cliff and plummet into your second orgasm. His cock, his fingers, his words, him. It’s all too much. You feel him everywhere. Your vision flashes hot white. The burning coil in your belly snaps as you come undone. A guttural moan escapes from deep within your chest. “Oh fuck, Joel! I’m gonna, ah, ‘m cumming,” you squeal from under him with your eyes rolling back again. You’re cumming again, hard, soaking his cock just like he asked. “Atta girl, baby. Good girl,” he rasps as he fucks you through the waves of your second orgasm. You’re squeezing him so tight you nearly push him out.

His pace is still relentless, not giving you time to come down from your second high. Suddenly, you’re being flipped around as Joel rolls you over him. He lays on his back with you now on top. The new angle has him even deeper than before, if that’s even possible. His cock immediately hits your g-spot again. A choked cry falls from your lips while you try to brace yourself on his broad, sturdy chest.

“‘M close, baby. Fuck, ya feel so fuckin’ good. Cum for me one more time, baby.” His breath is ragged now. You’re a babbling mess as he continues to fuck up into you. “I got you, baby. Just gimme one more. Come on, be a good girl and gimme one last one, babydoll.” He’s fucking up into you hard and fast, his thrusts growing sloppier than ever as he nears his orgasm.

“Baby, I-I can’t,” you hiccup. “Yes, ya can, darlin’. You’re so close, can feel ya clenching ‘round me again. Let go, baby. I got you.” He sits up and pulls you closer, you’re completely flushed against his strong chest now. He wipes your stray tears, his tenderness sends you crashing into your third and final orgasm - one more orgasm than last night. He’s so rough, but so gentle with you at the same time.

A drawn out high-pitched moan escapes you once again, eyes squeezed shut while mewling his name as you clench around him. “Fuck, Joel!” Your soul disappears from your body, floating around somewhere along with your brain. Joel, Joel, Joel being the only thought in your head as his name repeatedly streams from your lips - like a prayer.

He grunts and fucks up into you with three more thrusts before he comes undone. A loud, guttural moan escapes from his lips. He’s babbling as he’s shooting his load into you. “Fuck! ‘S it, honey! Take it, baby, take it! Good girl, shit, fuck, Jesus Christ!” You feel his cum coat your walls as he fills you up. There’s so much cum, it’s dripping from your swollen, wrecked cunt. Joel buries his face in the crook of your neck as you both pant, grappling with reality as you both come down from your highs.

He places tender kisses on your shoulder. Both of you are sticky with salty sweat, the periwinkle moonlight beaming into the room now. You feel a soft kiss brush against your cheek, causing your eyes to flutter open.

“Hi,” he huskily whispers with a gentle smile. “Hi,” you say with a bashful grin, biting your bottom lip while you return back down to Earth. Staring at each other with the same hazy, fucked out gaze, he crashes his lips to yours, lazily kissing you. You taste yourself on his tongue as he languidly slips it into your mouth.

He sighs as you part to lift yourself off him, both of you hissing at the loss of one another. Worry laces his features as you settle on the bed beside him, laying down on his chest. His rapid heartbeat slowly returning to a steady thrum, grounding you back in the present. “You feel okay, baby? Didn’t hurt you, did I?” How on Earth you got so lucky, you’ll never know.

Your gaze softens once more, reaching out to caress his cheek. “I feel absolutely amazing, Joel. You could never hurt me, baby.” He gingerly kisses your palm. Steady breathing and comfortable silence fill the air - postcoital bliss settling amongst you two.

He toys with the ring on your finger as his strong arm rests on your torso, engrossing you in his embrace. “You’re gonna be my wife,” he says as he smiles at you, disbelief and contentment lacing his voice. Love filling his eyes to the brim, just like his heart. Tears well in your eyes once more as you fully drink him in. You’re so full of love and happiness, there is nowhere else for your emotions to go except flowing down your cheeks. Something that happens often as you feel things deeply within your heart. It’s one of the things he loves most about you. “Jus’ means you got lots ‘a love to give in that big ol’ heart ‘a yours, baby,” he once told you.

“I am. There’s nothing more I want in this world than to be your wife.” And that’s the real honest truth. Joel Miller loves hard - particularly you. His tenderness is only reserved for you and Sarah - his girls. You never expected to fall just as hard for him. You only ever heard of this type of love in romance novels; only dreamt of it. Somehow, he managed to tumble his way into your heart that day, literally, when he spilled his coffee on you that fateful morning. Before him, you never fathomed the thought of experiencing a love like this.

He has served you the world and more on a silver platter. His love is the warm sunshine that envelopes you on a beautiful spring day. It is the forest fire that roars higher when you fan the flames, engulfing you in his heart. Joel Miller is the color yellow, his love burning brighter than the stars in the sky. As you love him hard, he loves you harder. To be loved by him for eternity is the greatest gift anyone could ever receive. As long as you live, his love will never die, for you carry it in your heart, everywhere you go.

Look at the stars

Look how they shine for you

And all the things that you do

some moot tags: @nostalxgic @undrthelights @darkroastjoel @pedrospartner @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @modernperplexity @mrsquill @breakfastatjoels @tinygarbage @sin-djarin @jenispunk 🩵

this was so fun to write! got a little sappy at the end, i told y’all i was in my feelings when i wrote this 🤣 i truly do love writing, i just get very in my head about everything. may or may not already be working on a meet-cute prequel for these two 🫣 hope y’all enjoyed this and thank y’all for reading! <3

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller #joel miller tlou #soft!joel miller #joel miller one shot #joel miller fluff #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #fic: yellow #one shot: yellow #yellow coldplay

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steviewashere · 2 months

Text

Sugar Lips

Rating: Teen and Up CW: None Apply! Tags: Post-Canon, Post-Season 4, Pre-Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington Has an Oral Fixation, Suckers as Both a Plot Point and a Character, Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington's Mouth, Spit Kink, (I'm Like 99% Sure That's Half of What This Is), Eddie Munson is a Cringe Fail, Eddie Munson is Good at Flirting (Sort of), First Kiss, Innuendos, Steve Harrington is a Tease, Neurodivergent Eddie Munson (Implied), Neurodivergent Steve Harrington (Implied)

🍭—————🍭

Steve has this little thing he does and Eddie isn’t sure he realizes what it is. Or that he’s doing it. Or that it’s driving him absolutely insane.

Now, Eddie’s no stranger to fidgeting. That is definitely something he engages in as constantly as possible. He often shifts the guitar pick on his necklace. And he absentmindedly picks the threads on his jeans or he’ll plunge his finger back and forth in the button holes of his vest. Sometimes, he’ll use his index finger to trace the zipper teeth on the sleeves of his leather jacket. He’s just a texture guy, likes being able to feel things constantly. Shift them around. Give his fingers something to do in a moment of much needed distraction.

It’s just how his brain works. And he’s ninety-nine percent sure that Steve’s brain works similarly.

He puts things in his mouth. Yup. That’s what Steve does. That’s his thing. Sometimes it’s just his fingers. Nibbling away at his fingernails or tearing at hangnails, which can’t ever feel good. If he gets sauce on his fingers, he licks it off instead of using a napkin. (That one in particular has made Eddie flee to the bathroom several times. Can you blame a guy?)

The thing that’s going to kill Eddie, though, is this stupid cotton candy flavored Dum-Dum sucker Steve packed with his lunch. He’d come in to find a movie for him and Wayne to watch later that night, wanted to invite Steve over and that’s when he saw it. The sucker.

It began normally. “Hey, Stevie!” He had greeted. The door chimed above him. And Steve gave him a half-hearted wave from behind the counter. He was sitting on a metal stool, back towards the door, face down at the counter, sketching out things on the inventory list. A wobbling stack of—what appeared to be—horror tapes beside him. Fresh from delivery, most likely. Eddie paid no mind. Waltzed towards the westerns, standing idle in front of the movies momentarily as his eyes took in the sheer amount of Chuck Norris films, and found one he hoped Wayne hadn’t seen before. (Which, now that he thinks about it, is highly unlikely. He wouldn’t be surprised if Wayne went to him one day to say he was gay for Chuck Norris. He’s like an absent husband at the Munson’s.)

He rang the little service bell to get Steve’s help checking out. And nearly buckled at the knees. Steve’s lips were spit slick and lightly stained pink. It popped from out of his mouth, his lips a perfect ‘O’ shape. And his tongue was also a delicious bright pink. Eddie was so distracted by the whole display, he didn’t even realize that Steve was actually speaking. That his spit was more interesting than whatever bullshit Family Video regime he was mumbling.

“Huh?” Eddie dumbly said while blinking back to existence.

Steve chuckled. “I asked if that was all you needed today, Eds.”

I could think of something else, Eddie thought, still staring at Steve’s mouth. He shook his head, curls whipping about, hopefully covering the embarrassing flush on his cheeks. “No—I—This—Wayne wanted to kiss—I mean watch—“ Eddie stopped himself with a heaving sigh. “Yeah, this is all I need.”

He swallowed down the rest of what he wanted to say. Tried to cover for himself. But he was weak in the knees once more. The sucker went back into Steve’s mouth, lolling over his teeth, clinking. His tongue was probably doing gymnastics trying to savor the flavor of that stupid thing. Probably suckling around it. Mouth pooling with spit. Eddie forced himself to lean against the counter, palms spread and flat against the surface, head dipped down so that he couldn’t see his demise anymore. But that still didn’t stop his mind from wandering. Thinking about what Steve’s mouth probably tastes like, sugar sweet and oddly fruity. Didn’t stop the sudden flashes of make out sessions they could be having, hiding behind the ‘Adults Only’ curtain, pinned up against—

“Dude!” Steve suddenly shouted. And Eddie found his eyes back on Steve’s face, dipping low to his lips. That sucker was still in his mouth. And he was right, there’s so much spit. He wishes that was his tongue in—“Eddie, are you alright, man? Why do you keep looking at me like that?” He sounded nervous. Even a little…embarrassed.

Fuck, that’s not how he wants Steve to feel around him. He scolds himself mentally, again. Stop being a perv, he tells himself. But his musings are futile.

He sighed once more. “I’m fine,” he muttered, “tired, that’s all.” Gave his best smile, but completely shattered once more when Steve pulled the lollipop out of his mouth. A thin string of saliva connecting it to his lips. His tongue darting out to break it. He couldn’t stop staring. Couldn’t stop himself from yearning. Couldn’t help the way he leaned further over the counter, completely in Steve’s warm orbit, nearly nose to nose.

Steve nervously giggled, but he didn’t step away. In fact, he licked his lips, darted his eyes, and for some odd reason…his cheeks grew bright pink. “I—Eds, you’re really—“

“Why are you so pretty?” Bursted from Eddie. He groaned. “It’s really not fair. And you’re single? What the fuck is wrong with people?”

“Eddie, what are you—“

“You fucking lick a stupid sucker and now I’m losing my mind. What the hell,” Eddie murmured. “Like I just wanna—“ He quickly looked over his shoulder, the parking lot desolate through the windows, the aisles completely clean, and turned his gaze back at Steve. His hands jumped up from on the counter, grabbed the lapels of Steve’s stupidly cute pink polo, and pulled him in. “I’m gonna kiss you,” he whispered, “and you can kill me later for it.”

As Steve began to nod, Eddie surged forward. It wasn’t a pretty kiss. And it wasn’t a neat one, either. Steve’s lips were moist, sticky with sugar, and stupidly soft. He slipped his tongue out, licking between his lips, tasting cotton candy. And was slightly shocked when Steve let him in. Letting him taste inside his mouth. Trace his teeth, connect their spit, share that sucker.

When he pulled back, popping off of Steve’s bottom lip, he immediately dropped his hands. Horrible realization dawned on him. His eyes widened. Mouth dropping open. Cheeks flushing. “Fuck,” he spat. “I’m sorry, I don’t—That was—You’re my friend, I shouldn’t have done that.”

But as their eyes met, he let himself relax slightly. Steve’s eyes were wide, but glistening. Something soft about them. He was smiling, teeth, spit, pink stains and all. “I have been waiting months for you to do that,” he said simply.

“What,” Eddie could only muster, his voice distant with disbelief.

“I have been waiting months for you to do that,” Steve repeated. “You’re not a very subtle looker. But that was—Jesus Christ, I could like taste your yearning.” Eddie began to crumple. This was a bad idea, he briefly thought. Though Steve whispered, flirtatiously and in awe, “That was so fucking hot.”

Eddie hummed. He relaxed completely. Placing his hands back on the lapels of Steve’s shirt. Thumbs rubbing in circles over the fabric. It was scratchy under his fingertips, it felt good. He sighed through his nose. Smirked something teasing. “I was going to invite you over tonight for that movie,” Eddie began, voice low and husky. “But maybe we could leave Wayne to it and…I’ve got some room in my van. Go out to the quarry. Show me what else your mouth can do.”

For how much of a ladies man Steve Harrington supposedly is, he’s too easy to fluster. Going warm and bright red under Eddie’s gaze. Melting positively into the slight hold Eddie still has on him. “Okay,” he murmured, “What time?”

“As soon as your shift is over, come to mine. Bring yourself, this cute little polo, and your pretty mouth. I’ve got plans with you, sugar.”

Kissing Steve Harrington’s sucker sweet mouth is probably Eddie’s new favorite way of fidgeting. And he finds, much much later, that it fulfills needs for the both of them.

🍭—————🍭

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #fanfiction #silly goofy #suckers

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bucknastysbabe · 8 months

Text

I knew at once, I knew he needed me

B. Barnes x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Canon-ish universe, friends to lovers, Bucky’s last trauma, flagsmashers debacle, TW: Bucks past non-con but no detail, blowjobs, fluff and smut, MAN TEARS, sexual dysfunction, Bucky Needs Orders, soft domme, Subby Bucky, Bucky is the sweetest sad meow meow who loves his girl, dry-humping, super-soldier loads amirite

Mood board under cut

Something about Bucky shifted when he went off on the Flag Smasher’s ordeal. You’d gotten a debrief back at HQ. No, you were not super powered. Simply a secretary who once upon a time was a SHIELD agent. But you’d got to know the reclusive former Winter Soldier bits and pieces at first.

Sam shoved him in charge of the Compound while he was dealing with things as the Falcon. Therefore you had to deal with a very surly one-hundred something man who had a staring problem and vocalized all of about 10 words— variants of no. You felt for the poor guy, he’s out of time, his best friend dipped off, and now the government owns him again.

You’d be tired and grumpy too.

But eventually your clipped conversations had turned into iPhone lessons along other modern world curiosities. The recruits were, safe to say, a bunch of jackasses and Bucky would come sit with you to have some coffee and mellow out as you typed. He’d grumble and rave, metal hand whining and whirring.

Then he asked you on a date.

Date turned to more dates.

More dates turned into ‘going steady’ and being ‘his best girl’. It was cotton candy sweet how kind and gentle he was. You knew there was a fear lingering he would hurt you on accident or go haywire. That somehow those words would come back— but they were gone.

You’d remind him sweetly with a squeeze of left inorganic hand and a peck on his pouty lips. He’d walk you back to your apartment and had been in there before for dinner, but was reluctant to stay the night. Reluctant to get anything but a little handsy while making out.

That was okay, he’d been through a lot. You didn’t mind, it was fun exploring with Bucky to find his sexuality, what felt good, what made him tick. Sometimes it could be frustrating but a vibe would do the trick until further notice.

On a miserable day Buck informed you he had to go with Sam on a mission. That mission turned into an entire ordeal, you keeping your head down and doing what you did. The Avenger’s secretary, oft dealing with the wonkiest of adventures under the guidance of Pepper.

Buck had left a message now and then, missing you dearly. The video of John Walker made you sick and worried to the point that Pep had you take the day off. The fact that Zemo was cavorting around with Sam and Bucky was it’s own nightmare.

You managed to reach Bucky on an encrypted line, begging for him to be safe. The soldier had chuckled blithely and replied, “I’m trying my best. No Zemo isn’t trying to kill me. That jackass Walker is going down though. Gonna’ get this under control and get back to you, sweet pea. I-,” he paused on the line, “I love you. I miss you too. Take care of yourself, gotta go okay?”

You blubbered back an ‘I love you’ and ate a pint of ice cream that night, wearing his shirt, watching that familiar face on the news. Hopefully they would get this Karli girl arrested and end any source of new serum. Put that asshole fake Cap away too.

It did. Sam emerging as the new Captain America, you jumping and cheering alone in the apartment with Alpine. Bucky was smirking in the back. You’d get to see him soon. He left a message he had to sort out one more thing before going home.

A little disappointed, you were glad Bucky went to help Sam’s family out. But you did have a job. On the bright side you could talk to your boyfriend every day. He seemed keen to get home, rambling about things he missed, things he remembered on the worldwide adventure. When Bucky would get off in his thoughts, his voice would get so soft and breathy, making your cheeks flush.

He groaned, “Soon babydoll, soon, I think I’m going to strap you to my side and we’ll catch up on all these movies from the journal.”

“I can’t wait.”

As stated before, there was a shift in Buck. Not bad. Something occurred though. And you couldn’t complain when he had you pinned to the couch, hands roving your body, breathing down your neck, “Oh god, missed you s’much, so damn cold most of the time.”

His toned thighs held yours spread out, hot length pressed to your core, only thin pairs of underwear as a barrier. Things were getting wet down there every rut of his hips. Bucky moaned in frustration, almost trying to bury himself in your skin.

Grabbing scruffy chin you refocused hazy eyes to you. Softly you murmured, “Slow down handsome. I’m not going anywhere. You okay?” Bucky blinked a bit and blushed, sheepishly apologizing with closed eyes, “I- baby- sorry. I don’t know either, jus’ want you. Life’s too short.”

You narrowed your eyes and prodded, “Don’t rush through something you’re not ready for yet.”

Bucky’s blues peered dead into your being this time as he swore, “Been living in fear since I got brought back. I know that I want you, and god it feels Fuckin’ good.” You kissed him passionately after that, tightening your thighs around trim waist.

Bucky hiccuped and heaved when he spilled all over your clothed cunt, sweetly begging for more. You scratched softly at his scalp, ushering the needy thing along. The brunette slid against his own spend and your slick panties, breath hitching. He whined, “S’good, s’good, wet, ff-fuck!”

You ended up spasming and cumming on Buck’s fourth orgasm, so goddamn slick between the pair of you now. He shook down to his toes, holding you tight as he mewled, “Oh god, oh god, fffucking hurts, can’t stop, baby y-ya feel s’good.”

Poor baby had milked himself dry after two more loads, gasping and making the prettiest little hitched noises. You’d led the pliant super soldier to the shower and tended to him, Buck was out to the park after all that intense sensation, hell, sensuality.

He’d softly thank you over and over again between apologies, until the big teddy fell asleep in your arms, puffing softly. Buck wouldn’t have a nightmare that night. Nor many another night after wearing himself out.

No penetration yet, but fucking close. He wasn’t quite ready for that. You knew he was in some sort of phase, spurred on by whatever occurred in Madripoor. He wouldn’t elaborate but said it made him want human touch again. He’d fess up when he was ready, because then you’d let the needy baby fuck.

Walking into your apartment with a sprawled Bucky red faced and teary made you wonder if he was ready. His cock was red and obscenely engorged, leaking copious precum, balls just as heavy looking. The soldier had pushed his briefs down and looked like he’d been at it for awhile based on the redness and his sweaty chest. You swallowed back some drool. Fuck.

“Honey? Bucky? What’s going on?”

A divine whimper graced your senses. His lashes were thick and clumped from tears. Bucky whined, “Need you, my h-hands, fuck!” He bit down on his lip roughly, obviously frustrated. Blood dribbled down Buck’s stubbled chin.

Dropping your stuff and bolting over to your lover had him barely relax, hiccuping a bit. You straddled his lap, careful not to irritate or stimulate too much. Grabbing his gorgeous face with two hands you stared calmly, as one would to a child coming down from a tantrum, “Baby. Need you to take a couple breaths and tell me what’s going on.”

His chest stuttered, breath thin, you instructing some box breathing, counting for Bucky. You could feel him relax underneath you, pulse lowering, that residual twitching dying down. Your lover blinked a couple of times, lips pulled into a frown.

Now gently scratching his scalp you tried again, “Can you tell me what’s going on sweetheart? Something happened in Madripoor. I want to help, I can help if you just talk baby boy.”

His gaze held your own, a gritting of his jaw and slow exhale. Bucky’s mismatched hands slid carefully up the tops of your thighs to grip your hips. The brunette rasped, “We did a ploy. I played…him..to get information we needed. Whole set up with Zemo trying to sell me. It reminded me of my,” he gulped, “other uses.”

“Oh fuck, I’m sorry, no,” you rambled while pulling him in closer. Bucky eased back and shook his head, “You make it easier. I just…I..I have trouble doing anything without orders right now. I’ve been too- ugh fuck- embarrassed to say anything. But goddamn if I’m not horny all the time, it’s so twisted.” He tucked wet lashes against your neck, steadying his breathing.

You did some deductions in your head. Bucky had been sating any sort of carnal urges on his own. The little ploy had switched that button deep in Buck’s brain that he needed orders to cum. No wonder he’d been so needy, begging you for release, your lover had been in a mindfuck for two months.

You cooed, “Oh Buck, you can tell me anything, c’mon now. I’m not shaming you one bit. If we need to work through this we will.” Poor thing looked like he was going to cry again, nipping that swollen bottom lip. You shoved your thumb between those pretty lips and hummed, “Stop beating yourself up. I’m more than happy to order my handsome boy around.”

Bucky had instinctively opened to accept your digit, cheeks flaming harder than before. You softly pressed down on his tongue, the brunette drooling and jerking underneath you. The tension seemed to melt out of his body with this one authoritative action.

“Such a sweetheart, can’t help it, don’t worry, we’ll get you back in charge in no time. But just relax for now,” you swiped a tear away, “I’m not going to hurt a hair on your pretty head. Thank you for telling me.”

He whined around your thumb, more and more drool leaking onto a strong chest. You hummed, “I’m going to suck your cock.” It felt almost dirty but Bucky whimpering around your thumb was a relief, a gargled, “Pleaaaaseee.”

Sliding your thumb out of his puffy lips, Bucky made another pitiful noise at the loss. When your slick thumb swirled around his purpling cockhead the brunette shouted in surprise, hands gripping into the couch cushions.

“Going to suck your cock and you’re gonna love it, pretty boy,” you cooed, breathing over where he needed it most. A dollop of pre dribbled out, your tongue lapping it up gently. Buck’s thighs twitched and he moaned, throwing his head back. The cushion ripped on his left side.

You swirled your tongue around the bulbous tip, lapping on the underside just to hear him gasp your name. Popping off you rasped, “Grab my hair, you can move me to your pace.” He nodded disjointedly, flesh hand ever so carefully rerouting to your ponytail.

You began to bob down the length on him, other hand crawling up to caress and gently squeeze his hefty balls. Poor Buck, all backed up. He needed to cum bad. His voice came out as a thin whine, “Ohaaaahhh- wha- I’ve never.” You couldn’t help but smile at being his first.

Satisfaction that no one forcibly took this intimate act from him, not to mention you beat out likely someone’s great grandmother to suck the great Bucky Barnes’ dick. Licking and humming on a vein had your own throat stretching and slick, drool collecting around your obscenely stretched lips.

You fucking loved sucking cock. Especially such a big boy’s like Bucky’s. His hips jerked, forcing the blunt tip down your throat, you finally swallowing him down the best you could. Swallow swallow swallow, this was for your baby. Bucky’s built chest shuddered with his staccato breath, babbling, “So good baby s’good s’good, ohmyfuck.”

He whined again when you came up for air, drooling and heaving over that gorgeous prick. Bucky whimpered, “You look pretty, can I cum? Soon? Please?” You nodded, voice hoarse, “No more deep but I want you to fill my throat with all that cum. You have all the permission, actually, an order to cum.”

It didn’t take long of you humming and shallowly bobbing on his rapidly swelling cock for the first load to come. Bucky’s heavy balls contracted and drew tight under your palm, sending hot seed down your throat. You eagerly swallowed, sucking harder if anything. Bucky moaned and cried, squirming, legs sluttily spreading by the second climax.

You so desperately wanted to fuck around with that tender skin behind his balls but stuck to rolling and squeezing. You suckled on the crown, flicking tongue at the quickest speed, the poor thing warning with a sob, ��Again!” He filled your mouth up this round, a fucking surprise, damn super soldiers. Dutifully gulping it again you slurped up excess drool and slowed the pace until Bucky was shying away, mewling.

Gently tucking him back in you wiped your mouth, laughing softly at the drool covering your blouse. God knows how wet your panties were. Bucky panted and hugged you oh-so-tight, warbling the cutest thanks. Wrapping back around Buck you curled the hair growing out around his ears and pressed little kisses to his cheeks.

“I’ve got you baby, we can do orders until you’re up to par. Feeling better?”

He rasped softly, “So much better, god, thank you.”

“No need, I love you. You know that. I’m quite satisfied I was the first to give you head.”

Pressing your lips to another stray tear he repeated it back, “Love you too, angel.” He smiled dopily, “The last too, that mouth works wonders.”

#bucky barnes smut #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes imagine #sub bucky barnes

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dragonmama76 · 7 months

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All's Faire in Love

Written for 'charm' @steddiemicrofic | Word count: 548 | Rating: G | CW: none

“Robin,” Steve grumbled, “When you said you wanted to go to a fair this is not what I expected. I was thinking rollercoasters and cotton candy?”

“I definitely told you it was a Renaissance Fair. Eat your turkey leg like a good barbarian so we can check out the vendors.” Robin continued.

“You didn’t tell me what a Renaissance Fair was,” he muttered. “Where are Eddie and Nancy anyway?” Steve decided he’d rather ditch the greasy turkey and tossed it as they passed a trash can. He had agreed to come hoping to spend the day with Eddie, maybe garnering the courage to hold his hand or something but the man had disappeared into the crowd while Steve was ordering his overpriced food.

“They’re saving seats for the joust!” Robin replied over-enthusiastically. “You’ll love it, there’s lots of fighting. Did you know that jousting is actually the official sport of Maryland?”

“I….did not know that. But that sounds cool.” Steve resigned himself to an afternoon of people shouting, “Huzzah!” and allowed himself to be guided into a row of colorful stalls. Robin began shopping in earnest and Steve wandered around checking out some weaponry. This, at least, was interesting. Steve was so engrossed in conversation about the differences between a mace and a flail that he realized he had lost sight of Robin. Thanking the owner of the stall he moved back out into the crowd. As he stood looking a little lost, an older woman covered in colorful scarves waved to get his attention. She beckoned him over and as he approached she called out, “I sense you need some romantic advice. Come in and I’ll read your cards.” Steve rolled his eyes but Robin suddenly reappeared and insisted he go for it. “It’s on me,” she announced with a glint in her eye as she passed some cash over to the fortune-teller.

Steve sat down at the table and the woman began to lay down cards. “This first card represents you,” she began, “Death.” Steve frowned. “Not a literal death, dear, but a change. A change in the way you love, who you love or perhaps…how you love?” She avoided his gaze and flipped the next card. “This represents the object of your affections. The Hierophant. Upright this indicates someone traditional, but in this case it’s inverted and indicates someone unconventional who doesn’t strictly conform to society.” Steve couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. “Finally this card represents your relationship and what path you should take.” She turned over the card and Steve snorted. “Yes, the Fool. Actually a very positive card which in this case indicates a new adventure. Be bold. Take risks and do not fear rejection.” Steve huffed out a breath. So he should make a move?

Before he left she pressed something into his hand. “What’s this?” he asked. “I can see you still need a push, so it’s a little love charm. Give it to the object of your affections and see what blooms.” Steve thanked her and exited the stall.

Later, watching the joust, Steve leaned over Eddie, and brushed his lips across his temple and handed him back the guitar pick. “I recognized you,” he whispered, “Next time just ask me out like a normal person.”

#steddie #steve harrington #steddiemicrofic #steddiemicroficseptember #Eddie thinks he is so slick #Steve is not an idiot

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peeponastick · 6 months

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Touch My Soul, Pt. 2

Domme!Reader x Virgin!Uchiha Itachi

Word count: 3.6K

Rating: Explicit NSFW 18+ Minors DNI

cw/tw: fem!reader, porn w plot skip to the diamonds for smut you horndog, name calling? (Hidan being an asshole, calls Itachi crow boy lmaoaoao), sappy and romantic, pining?, one bed trope heheh, hand kink, scent kink?, dry humping, corruption kink, praise, exhibitionism, breast & nipple play, cum play, ball play, dirty talk, cursing, use of pet names (sweet boy, good boy, etc), masturbation, not super intense BDSM D/s dynamics (reader is def a switch), inexperience & virginity loss (Itachi, let me cook), multiple orgasms, creampie.

Synopsis: Part 2 of Touch My Soul, (Pt. 1 here). Itachi is just a lil' nervous baby. The more time he spends around you, the more he doesn’t know what to do with his growing feelings. When you find yourselves in an unexpected situation, you take the wheel, ruining him for anyone else.

I really appreciate the love I got on my first-ever smut（╹◡╹）♡ (Yuji fic here). Wanted to follow it up with another kinktober addition, featuring one of my other beloved anime men.

I’m on a subby men streak rn and no one can stop me!!! Hope y’all enjoyyy <3 <3

It was late that night when you heard two gentle knocks on your door that made you jump, butterflies fluttering deep in your stomach knowing it was Itachi at your door. The rest of your fellow Akatuski members surely had gone to bed already, making it the safest time for the two of you to meet alone.

You hurriedly grabbed the nearest piece of clothing, slipping into your light pink satin robe that deliciously slinked off your curves, pausing in front of your floor-length mirror to wonder if it was maybe too much before shaking off your anxious thoughts and rushing to answer the door.

You swung the door open to see Itachi, brows arching in surprise to see you in such a different light. “I- uhh,” he stammered as his eyes betrayed him, trailing down and back up your figure to drink in the stunning display you unintentionally put on for him. His cheeks burned red as he realized how indecent you must’ve thought he was being.

“I-I’m sorry, is this not a good time?” He nervously scratched his head, eyes darting around anxiously in an attempt to not ogle you any more than he already had. You had to admit it was adorable, seeing someone who seemed so composed and mature acting like a nervous schoolboy.

“No, no, come in!” a smile on your face that you were unable to stifle, “Sorry, it’s just those robes we have to wear all the time are so uncomfortable, I’m out of them the second I can be,” you laughed lightly. He followed you into the room, guiltily indulging in the sight of your body from behind.

As you cleared some space on your bed, he stood observing and admiring all the little knick-knacks and oddities you had scattered around your room, his eyes setting on a small ceramic figurine of a cat.

You sat on your bed and pat the spot next to you, signaling him to sit. He hesitantly approached, “You, uh, sure you don’t mind me sitting on your bed?” a sheepish smile creeping across his face. A giggle burst out of you, realizing how things could be misinterpreted.

You shook your head, “It’s not safe to talk here,” you reassured him in a hushed tone, “I’ll use my jutsu to transport us into my soulscape, where we can talk further.” Itachi’s nervous energy dissipated and he sat beside you on your soft bed.

Once again, you weaved the hand signs of your special jutsu. This time, you took Itachi’s hands and placed them on your shoulders before touching your forehead to his. He did his best to ignore the rush of blood and tingling nerves he felt being close enough to smell the sweet scent radiating off your skin.

You both were transported into your soulscape, where Itachi began taking in his surroundings in awe. You stood in a field of wildflowers under a cotton candy-colored sunset, an early-rising crescent moon in the distant sky. The magnificent colors lit up his visual field as he processed all the information flooding his senses about who you were and all you’d been through.

He turned to you, an enchanted look of admiration in his deep brown eyes that made your cheeks burn, feeling flustered with vulnerability. You had never shown anyone your soul before and having someone see into you with such love was a foreign concept.

You cleared your throat, preparing to explain the inner workings of the Akatsuki, the intel you’d gathered, and the plan you were preparing to enact now that you had the piece you’d been waiting for– an ally strong enough to help you carry out the downfall of the Akatsuki and Madara himself.

After that night, you found yourselves in each other’s room to strategize quite often, mostly in the late hours. The snickers from the other Akatsuki members rumored the two of you had begun dating and were trying to hide it.

One night when Itachi was leaving your bedroom, gently closing the door behind him, he turned to find Hidan standing menacingly against the wall wearing a look of disgust.

“You’re always scurrying out of her room in the middle of the night, huh crow boy,” he sneered.

Itachi’s eyes blazed crimson “And what business do you have lurking around her door?”

Hidan scoffed and walked off, muttering his hateful thoughts about the two of you.

⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡

The more time Itachi and you spent in each other’s presence, the closer you became. Though you’d only known each other a short while, there was a mutual, deep understanding of one another’s souls.

He had never felt this way before, heartbeat nearly pounding out of his chest anytime you sat close, your hand accidentally brushing against him sending sparks through his body. Having to pull himself back down to earth every time he listened to you talk, getting lost in your sparkling eyes, every flutter of your full lashes hypnotizing him further.

He had without a doubt fallen for you, almost certain the feeling was mutual. His perceptive eyes picking up every quick glance you stole at his lips, the way you blushed anytime his attention was a little too focused on you.

He wanted more than anything to make his move, for you to be his, but all his years of being a high-ranking shinobi had never really allowed him time for relationships. How could he ask for something he had no idea how to do? And worse, he thought, someone as beautiful and amazing as you shouldn’t settle for someone like him.

He knew you’d already seen him inside and out and accepted him fully, his sordid past somehow not making your opinion of him falter. But still, there was the matter of his inexperience, or rather, lack of any experience at all adding to his insecurity.

On a night you had gone to his room, your planning and discussion went on longer than usual. Upon releasing your jutsu, Itachi stood up to find a paper he wanted to show you. You wearily sat on his bed, drained from casting your jutsu for so many hours. As he rummaged around his room, your eyelids grew heavier and heavier, body lightly swaying before you admitted defeat to your fatigue and laid yourself down on his bed, the sight of his back growing blurry as the comforting smell of his bedding pulled you in.

He turned around to find you asleep, curled up with a sweet, peaceful expression spread across your face. He hummed affectionately, pulling the blanket over your worn-out body. He paused, staring at you for a moment, smiling to himself as he envisioned what it’d be like to have the gift of seeing this every night, before tossing a pillow on the floor for his makeshift bed.

Your eyes blearily opened, “Whaa-what’re you doin’?” your voice croaked, still half asleep.

His head tilted inquisitively, “I just, umm, figured I’d sleep on the floor so you can be comfortable,” he replied with a kind smile.

You outstretched your arms for him, drowsily shaking your head, “Noooo way, this is your bed,” you lilted in an almost child-like manner. His eyes grew wide, brain short-circuiting as he realized you were okay with him sleeping next to you. You impatiently waved your arms around, ushering him to come soon as sleep was calling your name.

Itachi hesitantly approached, crawling into bed beside you trying to awkwardly maintain a respectful distance. You turned into his broad chest, nuzzling up to him with a faint smile on your face as you drifted back to sleep. His muscles tensed, heartbeat deafeningly pounding in his ears at being so close to you.

Focusing on his breathing his body eventually softened, looking down at you and feeling pure bliss. He had dreamt of this moment so many times, he couldn’t believe it was really happening. Wrapped up in the warm feelings, he soon followed you into sleep.

Several hours later, Itachi woke to an unfamiliar stirring in his pants, tired eyes blinking with confusion at the pressure he felt repeatedly nudging his pelvis. His breath hitched as heat flushed his entire body at what he saw.

You had flipped sides at some point in the night, your back now against Itachi’s chest as you pressed your ass into him over and over again, grinding against his growing bulge. You were dreaming, soft whimpers leaving you every time your hips connected with his in your unconscious state. He couldn’t help himself from wondering if you could be dreaming about him, ears ringing at every angelic sound you made.

He fought with himself, feeling guilty for not waking you immediately, but he couldn’t help it, every rock of your hips into him sent divine pleasure rippling through his entire body, his cock becoming uncomfortably hard in his pants, even with such little stimulation. He closed his eyes, fully indulging in the moment for a few more seconds before he lightly tapped your arm. Noticing, in his heightened arousal, how soft your skin felt under his fingertips, how the heat of your sleeping body projected your intoxicating scent.

You were deep asleep, unresponsive to his gentle touch. He took a deep breath, collecting himself before he tried again, this time tapping a little harder, “Y/n, hey. Wake up y/n,” his deep, gravelly voice rasped in your ear. Your eyes opened slowly, “Hmmm? ‘tachi?” your sleepy voice squeaked, “Wass goin’ on?” you rolled back against him, looking up at his flushed face with confusion.

Your mind shot awake, finally processing what an intimate position the two of you were in, “Oh shit! I’m sorr–,” a small gasp left your lips as you noticed his eyes dark with lust, feeling the growing bulge between his legs pressed up against your ass, “Fuck.”

Heat bloomed across your cheeks, suddenly overcome with heady arousal, the masculine and fresh scent of his skin and bedding sending pulsing shocks to your clit. A gentle moan slipped past your lips as you slowly resumed grinding your hips against him.

He breathed deeply, his nimble hand acting on its own, trailing down the curves of your body to grab onto your hip, “C-Can I touch you here?” his voice hoarse with arousal.

“Uh-huhh,” you breathily moaned.

His hand needily latched onto your hip, pulling you in closer, both of you feeling a magnetic pull between your cores. You rolled your hips together, the pace quickening as you began losing yourselves in the intensity of the moment.

His breath fanning the shell of your ear from behind, you drank in the sounds of his gentle gasps and moans, breath growing ragged at the overwhelming pleasure he felt. His vision going hazy, he tucked his head into the crook of your neck as he began humping you frantically, his carnal senses controlling him. His large hand gripping you bruisingly, a strained moan dragged out of his chest as his orgasm suddenly exploded out of him, coating the inside of his pants with copious amounts of cum.

You smiled sinfully, turning over to face him but he avoided eye contact, his cheeks burning bright red as he tried to catch his breath.

“I’m sorry, I can’t believe I–,” his brows furrowing with embarrassment, “I’ve just never done anything like this,” he quietly admitted, innocent eyes anxiously scanning yours.

A switch flipped in you.

You hummed, tenderly stroking his warm cheek with your hand as your eyes fell to his lips. You smiled affectionately, “I know, sweet boy,” slowly bringing your plump lips to his, pausing a breath away, smile tinging with deviance as you looked deep into his eyes, “just watch me," you whispered against his mouth before pressing your lips to his. His lips parted with a shaky moan, kissing you back hungrily.

Rolling onto your back, you began tracing the hills and valleys of your curves with your hands, stopping to indulgently squeeze your breasts, massaging your hard nipples. He swallowed hard, his sharingan eyes watching your every move, burning the moment into his memory.

Your hand snaked its way under your shorts, fingers dipping into the wet heat between your thighs, letting out a soft moan as you ran a finger over your swollen clit. You looked into his eyes, biting your lip as you began pleasuring yourself.

He moved his hand to gently brush a stray hair out of your face, wanting to have a clear view of your features twisting with pleasure. Your head turned to catch his fingers along your open mouth. You wrapped your lips around his thumb, sucking on it as you looked up at him wantonly, eliciting a deep groan from his chest. You released your lips with a pop as he began messing your pout with his thumb, relishing in the sensation of your luscious lips beneath his fingertip.

He looked at you, eyes glazed over with lust, before passionately cupping your face and kissing you deeply as you continued playing with your pussy, thighs shaking and body tingling with heat as you rubbed firm circles around your clit.

Itachi was devouring you with his eyes, your body and mind buzzing with electric arousal at being watched so intently.

“You can touch me, it’s okay,” you purred between breathy moans, reading his mind. You grasped his hand, guiding it up under your shirt to cup your full breast, “Like this.”

A whimper left Itachi’s lips as his warm palm connected with the delicate skin of your breast, exploring your body with fervid curiosity. Squeezing the plush flesh and ghosting his fingertips over your nipples, you moaned in delight.

You began feeling the sizzling electricity of your building orgasm, fingers rubbing faster and tighter circles around your pulsating clit. Waves of white-hot pleasure washing over you as you rocketed into your climax, the feeling of Itachi's clothed cock, hard and eager for you again, needily pressing into you sending you over the edge.

You collapsed with a pleased smile, taking a moment to catch your breath before sitting up unexpectedly, motivated and ready for more pleasure. “Itachi– off, please,” you demanded, needily tugging at the waistband of his black sweatpants. He hurriedly lifted his hips to pull them down, fumbling as he tried to yank it off his leg not wanting to delay a second longer, then grabbing the back of his black t-shirt’s collar to pull it over his head.

His length stood fully erect, no longer restrained by his pants. His body was heavenly, like a carved-marble depiction of a god. Pale skin covering his chiseled, lean muscles, marred with battle scars. His cock was so pretty, the perfect length and girth for a delicious stretch, bulging veins dancing along the sides, messy with sticky, white cum from his previous orgasm, and throbbing with need.

“Fuuckkk, you’re so big baby,” you licked your lips, mesmerized by the sight as you wrapped your hand around his length and began stroking his cock, using his cum as lube.

His body heaved at the sensation, a choked whine leaving his lips. He let out a small gasp as you thumbed his glistening slit, “Such a pretty cock,” you cooed, dropping your other hand to massage his heavy balls. His eyes rolled back momentarily in ecstasy, he could cum again just from the way you spoke to him.

You brought your hand up to lick his cum off before crawling over him, breasts brushing against his lean chest, hips arched seductively. Itachi laid there panting, so overwhelmed with arousal he couldn’t do anything but let out needy moans as his wildest fantasy unfurled in front of him. You lightly dragged your lips along the ridge of his ear, breathing lightly against it before kissing the tip of his earlobe.

“Mmmh please let me feel you inside me baby, pleeeease?” you moaned against his skin, kissing along his sharp jaw and down his neck, “Don’t you wanna know how good my wet pussy feels wrapped around your cock?”

A shuddering moan left his chest at your provocative words. You looked up at him, siren eyes hypnotizing him. He nodded enthusiastically with a dazed expression, pupils blown wide with lust, completely drunk on arousal– mind floating out of his body.

“Y-Yes, pl-pleasee,” he hiccuped, struggling to process that this was happening to him in real life.

“Hmmm good boy,” a devilish smile on your face, “just lay back and let me make you feel good, okayy baby?”

You got off him, standing up and turning around to teasingly pull your shorts down, giving him a front-row seat as you bent over seductively, sliding them off at a torturous pace, exposing your lace-covered pussy from behind, a sweet little whimper leaving his lips as he saw the wet spot from your orgasm. Pulling off your shirt to reveal a matching bra, his brain malfunctioned at how exquisite you looked.

You then began languidly pulling your panties down, revealing your decadent pussy to his eyes. “Ooohh my–" he gasped, "oh my god,” feeling the pulse in his erection as it twitched with desire. You flashed him a confident smile, fingertips dragging up and down the curves of your body, feeling his dark eyes on you, memorizing every touch and squeeze.

Seeing his eager cock, precum leaking from his tip and dribbling down his shaft, you licked your lips, pussy fluttering in excitement at the thought of being stretched by him. Crawling on top of him like a feline stalking her prey, you drank in the sensual power you felt as you locked eyes with him.

You captured his lips in a sweet kiss, “Ready sweet boy?” you confirmed. He was more than ready for you, breathlessly watching your every move in anticipation of what came next. Your juicy pussy hovered just above the head of his cock, so close his sensitive tip could feel the heat radiating from between your thighs. He hazily nodded, head foggy with such unimaginable lust and desire he didn’t know was possible to experience.

You slowly began sinking down on his cock, both of you releasing depraved moans, delighting in the heavenly sensation of his thick cock sliding into the hilt, burying deep in your soaking wet pussy. Your hands splayed on his chest, feeling the rapid rise and fall as he experienced the sinfully wet heat of your pussy for the first time.

“Fuuuuckkk y/n, oh my god!” he cried out, he gripped the sheets with white knuckles. You gave him a moment, a sultry twinkle in your eye seeing him squirm in unbearable pleasure beneath you.

You began riding him, the tight walls of your pussy squeezing his engorged cock as you slid him in and out, strained moans leaving his chest. You reached down to grab his hands, bringing them up to place on your waist as you bounced up and down on his dick.

“How does that feel baby, hmm?” your voice pouring out of you like honey. He winced in unbearable pleasure, “S-So, fuck–” struggling to respond between panting moans, “sooo f-fucking good” he sobbed.

Everything was too much, too good– the unbelievably gorgeous sight of you on top of him, breasts bouncing, the way your tight pussy was milking his inexperienced cock. Heat pooled in his lower abdomen as the pressure at the base of his cock began rapidly rising.

He looked up at you, eyes flashing with anxiety. He was too enmeshed in the moment to find the words, but he knew he was going to cum quick. Sensing his urgency, feeling his cock twitch inside you, you leaned down to kiss him.

“Want you to cum inside me,” you purred against his lips, “want you to fill my pussy up, pleasee.” Your words rattled around his brain, the tether binding him to reality snapping.

Every fiber lit aflame with pure ecstasy, his mind went blank– only a singular motive, his primal need to release himself inside you.

His arms flexed as he wrapped them around you, pulling you in closer to his chest, fingertips digging into your skin as he began pounding your pussy from below. Sounds of two feral animals ravishing each other echoed off the walls as you simultaneously reached climax, his thrusts growing sloppy as he stuttered his hips up into you.

Obeying your command, he plunged his length into you as deep as he could, strangled moans reverberating in his chest, cock spasming as he began pumping ropes of his thick, hot cum into your pussy in amounts he had no idea he was capable of producing.

“Oof-fuckkk!” you mewled, “Feel so full, such a good boy,” you praised, your hand pressing above his cock, near the point where the two of you were fused as one. You rubbed his lower abdomen, tossing your head back in pleasure at the erotic sensation of being stuffed so full of his cock and cum, overwhelming warmth spreading through your core. He whimpered at your words, cock quivering as your pussy clenched around him, not yet wanting to unsheathe his sensitive length.

You collapsed against his solid chest, both of you sweaty, panting messes holding each other in a loving embrace, completely drained from cumming multiple times. He closed his eyes, a satisfied smile on his face as he ran his fingertips soothingly up and down your back as you pressed kisses to where your lips met his skin.

“That. was. amazing.” his smooth voice blurted, his ability to form coherent sentences returning to him, “Thank you so much,” he leaned his head down to press a meaningful kiss to your forehead. You giggled, endorphins flushing your system making you feel giddy with love, you could stay like this with him forever.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

If you read this far, thank you so muuuuch I luvv you!! ♡♡♡

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iamasaddie · 7 months

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my heart keeps beating like a hammer

PIMP!JOEL part 1, part 2, masterlist paring: Joel Miller x fem!afab!Reader rating: explicit word count: 4.8k summary: You and Joel experience somthing new, but when your experience is connected to sex, his novelty is purely mental. // Joel Miller is still a pimp and you still need money, that's it. warnings (for the chapter): changing POV (Joel and Reader); implied male masturbation, reader is getting more experience, discussion of period, spitting (x1); blow job, praise kink, dirty talk a/n: thank you to my soul @bearsbeetsbeskar as usual for being my lifeline and my biggest fan, and to @patti7dc for being PIMP's biggest fan. ILY <3 (also, not heavily beta-ed, all mistakes are my own) ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴏꜰ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ, ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ꜰᴏʀɢᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴡᴀʏ ᴏꜰ ʜᴇᴀʟɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘʀᴏᴄᴇꜱꜱɪɴɢ ᴛʀᴀᴜᴍᴀ ꜰᴏʀ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴɴᴏᴛ ᴅɪᴄᴛᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴘᴏʟɪᴄᴇ ʜᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴅᴏ ɪᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴛʏᴘᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴄʜᴏᴏꜱᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏɴꜱᴜᴍᴇ. ꜱᴛᴀʏ ꜱᴀꜰᴇ, ᴘʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴄᴇ ᴄᴏɴꜱᴇɴꜱᴜᴀʟ ꜱᴇx ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴘʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴏᴠᴇ.

Fuck, you smelled good. Good enough to eat.

As Joel laid in his bed, his right hand still a little sticky with your arousal and drenched with your smell, he couldn't stop replaying the moment you two just shared. Well, it was nothing special, or at least it was what he tried to tell himself. He watched you masturbate and then fingered you, a little. It was just a teaching moment, he had those before, multiple of them. And yet none of them had this peculiar mix of confidence and naiveté, like a spicy candy.

You looked beautiful as hell, too, and that didn't fucking help. Fresh after a shower, your clean skin that became dirty so quickly. The lower lip that you kept biting, he thought you'd draw blood. He'd lick the blood off you. Fuck, where did that come from?

No, it was just the heat of the moment. You were gorgeous, with your angles and your eyes, that didn't match your face neither in age nor experience. How can someone so old be so young? Joel felt like he was born old, he couldn't even remember himself young. But you... He brought his hand to run through his hair and here it was again, the overwhelming smell of you. He'd been hard for longer than it was healthy, that was for sure. Good thing he didn't cum in his fucking pants, that’d be just peaches.

Again, his mind came back to you, the way you fought your body for something so primal, that should be given to you so easily. And yet you struggled. He felt a weird sense of pride swelling along with his cock when he heard the way you sang for him as soon as his fingers touched your heated flesh. It was so soft, it called for him to get closer, to have a taste. Joel was just a fucking man with a fucking cock, and that cock got him in a lot of trouble before.

He said his thanks to all of the deities above - if there were any - for the way your eyes closed and brows furrowed, so you couldn't see him biting and licking his own lips, centimeters away from your oasis that he wanted to drink up, more than a glass of whiskey after the hardest day. He couldn't keep his eyes from the arousal glistening on your wet cunt, practically begging for him to dive in. Yet, he resisted. It would not do either of you any good.

Joel was brought to reality as he jerked in his bed when he heard soft whimpers coming from behind his closed door. There was no mistaking the sound, he almost anticipated it. Once you found the pleasures your body could give, it was hard to stop yourself from getting them.

Judging by the muffled sounds, you tried your best to keep your little night activity hidden from him, if not successfully.

"Fucking hell," he moaned to himself. His cock that started to soften a little came back to life in an instant, lifting up the simple cotton sheet he slept naked under. He shouldn't do it, not now, not like that. And yet his right hand - the hand claimed by you - lifted to his mouth unconsciously. "I am so fucked." His whisper was addressed to nobody, and he licked his palm with a stiffed moan as your taste claimed his tongue as well.

Surprisingly, the next day you weren't woken up by Joel. When your stomach pinched with cramps you already knew what was going to happen. It was early in the morning and you tried to be as quiet as you could paddling your bare feet to the bathroom. Yup, you looked down your cotton panties that already dried when you put them back on in the middle of the night, your period came. An ugly red stain looked back at you mockingly from the center of the gusset.

It wasn't a usual occurrence, malnourished as you were, so you couldn't keep track of when would be the next time you'd start bleeding. It was always a surprise, and always an unpleasant one.

"Fuck, you are so stupid sometimes," you muttered to your pussy, crouching down on the toilet and inhaling deeply to try and lessen the pain in your lower abdomen. You wondered what could be the reason for it, you'd only started eating more a day ago, so it shouldn't have been the case. Maybe…?

When Joel left you on the couch yesterday, your body continued to buzz with pleasure, and not long after you tried to make good of his lesson, abusing your pussy with your fingers orgasm after orgasm, not being able to stop once you got your first. His words, his praise, stuck to your brain like honey stains on the table.

"Good girl" - orgasm, "beautiful pussy" - orgasm, "listen to her", that was when you almost cried both with the strength of light exploding in you and the soreness of your clit. You didn't know if you fell asleep or just blacked out.

Yeah, that must've been it. "Yeah, I'm stupid, too," you muttered to yourself and looked around to find something that could substitute a pad of some sort so you don't bleed all over his sterile bathroom.

Of course, Joel wouldn't have anything in his place. Even though his current life was surrounded by women, it looked like no one with a pussy set a foot in this place, at least not on a regular basis. You sighed, and looked down on the t-shirt you wore to bed. Your t-shirt, the only one you owned.

You were sipping your second glass of water when Joel finally emerged from his room. His face wore that sleepy expression you grew accustomed to pretty quickly. Familiar sound of his bare feet paddling on the wooden floor disturbed the silence. He scratched his jaw with his left hand yawning soundly as he entered the kitchen.

"What the hell happened to your t-shirt?"

You shifted on your seat and looked at what's left of your t-shirt, you had to cut the bottom half off to make something resembling a pad. You wore sweatpants Joel gave you before going to sleep since your jeans were still wet. Your stomach was on display and you tried to pull the ripped material a little bit lower to hide your belly-button.

"Umm..." Telling him that you decided to try a new look, more appropriate for the stereotypical worker of a brothel, would only make you look more stupid, so you decided to go for the truth. "I'm on my period."

You were never fazed by talking about the natural processes your body had been going through, you just didn't understand what could be so embarrassing about the way your body worked. Not like you could change it. Joel seemed to share your views as he didn't even raise an eyebrow to your admittance. He seemed more confused about the thought process that lead from your getting your period to you having only a half of your shirt on.

"And that explains why half of your t-shirt's gone?"

"Well, I couldn’t go around bleeding on shit, could I?" You were snappy as it was, but when period came, even though it wasn't such a frequent occurrence, you'd noticed yourself being a next level bitch. You inhaled deeply to calm yourself down and continued in a calmer tone. "You don't have any cotton in your bathroom."

Joel, unfazed by your temporary lash out, just hummed to himself and nodded, circling you around and rummaging his cupboard for a clean cup.

"I’ll ask my girls and bring you some tampons tonight." You snapped your head around. Tampons were fucking rare. Not only were they expensive as fuck, but you'd also have to ask for them every single day during the whole month in hopes to get them first. Sometimes you had to go without. Well, you had to go without most of the time, but whenever you could get a tampon or two you were very grateful for not having to wash your clothes from blood stains every day. Joel turned his head slightly, taking in your hopeful expression. "You know how to use those?"

"Yes, I know how to use fucking tampons." You huffed, annoyance claiming you quicker than you managed to tame it. But then something else settled in your brain, "you're going out?"

"Sure am," Joel nodded, moving around the kitchen and preparing everything so you two could have a breakfast - some boiled eggs, bread and your usual cup of black coffee. "Can't spend my days bottled up here, no matter the company. Birds need their daddy to take care of them." He let out a small laugh that sounded almost affectionate.

"Ew," you wrinkled your nose in a fake disgust, even though hearing that word did something to your insides. "What the fuck, they call you daddy?"

"Some do." Joel shrugged his shoulders like it was the most normal thing in the world and you were the real weirdo. You decided to change the subject to something that was nagging you from the inside.

"Do I need to leave?"

"And where'd you go?"

"I dunno, out."

"Bleedin'?"

The stupid back and forth got on your nerves. The man was like a fucking riddle, whenever you thought you had the right answer turned out you read the instructions backwards. You pinched the bridge of your nose, closing your eyes and exhaling louder than needed.

"Can you just say yes or no, or do I need to call you daddy for you to talk to me like a normal person?"

"Not sure you deserve to call me that yet, rabbit." He scratched his beard and chuckled, Mr. fucking Funny in all his glory. "You can stay, I told ya as long as we have an agreement, you can live here, I ain't kicking you out."

"And you're okay with just leaving me here alone?" You furrowed your brows at this. He was ready to leave almost a complete stranger in his apartment? Alone? Where were the trust issues in this man? What was wrong with him? Either he was unbelievably cocky, or dumb as a rock.

"Should I not be?" His gaze stuck to your face like glue, brown eyes following every twitch and wrinkle on your face as you tried to scold it in the trustworthy expression. There was no use in him thinking you were a criminal of some sort, especially now.

"No, I'm just..."

"Do you want to rob me and run away? I can tell you where I keep my stash," his right hand gestured vaguely somewhere, and you didn't need to see that to know he was pointing towards his room. "So you don't trash the place when I'm gone."

"I'm not going to rob you." You were a lot of things: hungry, desperate, lost, but you were not going to steal. Not from him, or not now, at least.

"I thought so." He placed two plates on the table, you didn't even notice him finishing making the food. "Dig in."

When the door closed behind Joel you waited exactly five obligatory minutes before going to his room. You went through three stages of excuses:

1. If you were staying with him, if you were to trust him with your body, you should really know something about him. He might have sawed body parts buried in his drawers. And it's not like the man ever told you anything about himself besides the information you already knew through street gossip. It was a matter of your safety.

2. If he didn't want you to snoop, he'd close the fucking door. Or he'd at least tell you not to go there. You knew it was a weak fucking point, it was common sense to not snoop when you're at someone else's place. But, you know... See #1 for better reasons.

3. Fuck it, you're gonna be quick and it's not like you wanna steal from him.

His room was less spacious than you expected it to be. The walls were painted yellow, or maybe they were once white, and lacking any form of personality. There was a simple bed in the middle of the room, big enough for two normal people or one Joel, covered in simple grey sheets. He only had one wardrobe and one desk. The desk was cluttered with a filled ashtray, some papers, and a couple of dirty glasses. Not so clean after all, you snickered to yourself. Overall the room was fucking boring and didn't give you any answers as to who Joel was at all.

You went to his wardrobe, the wooden thing being the only place where the secrets could be kept, and were disappointed almost instantly. The first shelf carried his boxers and socks, almost all of them black. You rummaged carefully through them hoping to find a hidden section, but to no avail. You sighed and pushed it back. The second drawer was filled with his clothes, not a lot of it, a couple of t-shirts, a pair of sweatpants, and a few warm-looking plaid shirts.

"Fuckin' hell, man, could you be less pimp-ish?"

You were almost disappointed in him. As you lifted each item of his clothing, trying to see the bottom of the shelf, your eyes caught something. You snaked your hand under the soft green flannel and tugged on the thing. It was a watch. Nothing special, just a big, military-looking wrist watch. Your finger traced the ridged side of it, nail scratching the cold metal as one little thing looking right at you somehow made the watch different. It was busted. The hands didn't move and the glass was cracked. Why would he keep a busted watch in his drawer?

There was no other explanation for it but having an emotional value to him. You didn't have stuff like that, but you knew other people did. Some of them were weak because of it, some were strong. It was always a Russian roulette to meet someone that had lost something, they were either broken, or ready to break.

You stuffed the watch back and your fingers grazed something else, it was almost indistinguishable from the smooth board under your fingertips, so you had to look carefully before pulling it out. A folded piece of paper appeared between your fingers. It looked very old, the map of creases telling you that it had been folded and unfolded multiple times, and even with the care put into such a simple action it was almost torn apart. The edges were ripped, the yellow spots either from time or something spilled on the paper were staining the once white sheet. You hesitated before unfolding it. If it was a love letter, or something of the sort, you'd feel really shitty for seeing it. Clenching your jaw, you weighed your options: you could put it back, close the door and let curiosity eat you alive, or you could look and just live with shame. Shame wasn't new. You could do shame.

You carefully opened the fragile piece of paper, holding your breath and thinking of the multiple variants of what it may contain. Your exhale was so loud and strong, the sheet in your hands trembled.

Not a diary page, not a love letter, not even a suicide not, just a... Drawing?

It was hard to tell, really, most of the paper was covered in colorful splotches, not actually resembling anything. There was a giant pink splotch that had some form right in the middle, and you stretched your hand back a little to understand what it was.

A butterfly. A giant pink butterfly surrounded by multiple other little butterfly splotches in orange, purple, green. The giant butterfly was faded, her wings streaked with something, almost transparent where the paper folded.

There was something written on the bottom of the drawing, an ugly black smudge already unrecognizable. You wondered what happened to this part, did someone spill water, or…

You weren't allowed to let your mind wander as you heard the key turning in the front door. You tried to shove the picture back as carefully as you could, and sprinted out of Joel's room, dropping on the couch. You just hoped he didn't have a photographic memory of how everything was placed.

"Here you go." Joel threw a light, half filled box at you, skipping the pleasantries when he found you on the couch, wrapped in a blanket like a potato in foil. You didn't catch it, and, ricocheting from you, it fell on the floor with a 'thump'. You groaned a little, cramps didn't bother you but there was an unpleasant tightness to your muscles, as you stretched out and picked it up from the floor checking the contents under Joel's curious eyes. There were only six simple white tampons inside but you’d managed with far less before. You looked up from the box, meeting his gaze.

"So?"

"Thanks," you muttered, scurrying to the bathroom, clutching the priceless box to your chest.

When you came out of the bathroom, a pleasant feeling of being clean and staying clean no matter how you moved uplifted your previously dire mood. You found Joel sitting on the couch, his thick, denim-covered thighs spread in a dominating move as he sipped on something - whiskey, you supposed - in his clear glass. Memories of the night you had spent washed over you, bringing back the tightness and slight awkwardness. You felt uneasy, not able to find a place. You weren't there to just chill with him on the couch sipping whatever. You weren't friends, probably wouldn't ever be. But he did treat you decently, as far as decency went in this world. There was no way you could continue your lessons tonight, though, not with the bloodbath that still happened in your panties. And he must have been oblivious judging by his calmness.

"Sorry." You came closer to the couch, hands twitching in an attempt to crack a bone. Joel finally looked at you, his face was nothing but confused.

"What exactly are you sorry about?"

Oh fuck, you really didn't think you'd have to explain that, surely he wasn't expecting you to… He himself wouldn't find it normal to…

"Well, I'm on my period, so it's not like we can have another... lesson." You cringed as you said it, wrinkling your nose.

"A true warrior…" he laughed to himself.

"What?"

"Nothin, rabbit." He shook his head, finishing his drink in one go and placing an empty glass on a tiny unsteady-looking table next to the couch. "But you're wrong, there’s a lot of things we can do without having sex sex."

"I don't think I need another lesson on how to get myself off. I am okay with it." Remembering last night, you should've said you were way more than okay with it. Having one orgasm by your hand made you go crazy, you kept rubbing one after the other until your clit physically ached and your head was delirious with all the pleasure.

Joel gave you a once-over, wiping his mouth with his hand and looking into your eyes.

"Today you're gonna learn how to suck good cock."

You choked on your saliva. Not that the idea was unknown to you, but still for some reason you didn't expect him to say it like that even taking into consideration the nature of your relationship.

"What?"

"You heard me." He nodded, proceeding to justify the topic of today's lesson. "That’s a popular one, so you need to know how to do that. Some men don’t have enough cash to go all in, so they settle for a blowjob. That’s why you need to know how to give a good one, and what better way to learn than to start practicing right away."

If there was one thing Joel Miller didn't lack in, it was logic. Whatever topic he was on, not only did he manage to come out a winner, but he also made it sound like it was the only reasonable thing. You found it hard to resist his arguments, and you didn't feel like you were in the place to do so.

"I haven’t…" You stammered, but then looked him straight in the eyes, almost with a challenge. "I know what it is, I just never actually did it."

"Yeah, yeah, my innocent rabbit, I understand that." Joel didn't wait long before unbuttoning his jeans and dragging the zipper down, the sound louder than the blood pumping in your ears. "Lucky for you, cocks are simple, don't worry. Just come here," he spread his legs wider after dragging his jeans half down, "and get on your knees for me, pretty."

As you stared at the meaty shaft that you felt like stared back at you, you found a second thing Joel Miller didn't lack in - cock. You didn't have a big frame of reference, but you felt like in any world - old or new - Joel was a generously gifted man. His cock was pleasant to look at, which surprised you. It had a nice, almost tanned pink color to it, the head looked darker and a little bit more tense, shining with something. He was girthier than your hand could circle, you could tell that without even having him in your hand, so putting him in your mouth felt intimidating to say the least. ‘The Cock’ - you pictured it starting with a capital letter in your head - was curved to the right just the slightest bit, and if you came closer you could see a vein running from the base and to the almost angry top.

"If you stare at the cock for so long, a man's gonna think there's something wrong with it." He chuckled, and gripped the base of his cock with a thumb and two fingers. "Come on, baby, open your pretty mouth for me. It's time to learn a thing or two."

You did follow his instruction, opening your mouth wide and waiting for him to shove his dick right into your glands. But he didn't hurry.

"Now, stick your tongue out a little, baby, feel the weight of my cock, get a taste." You again did as he told, feeling awkward with your tongue out, but that feeling went away as he placed the hot, heavy head of his cock right on your tastebuds. He moved a little, getting a tiny bit more of him further in your mouth and exhaled through his flaring nostrils as your lips reflectively closed around his tip.

Yeah, it was big, as big as you thought it'd feel. But it wasn't unpleasant. The skin of the head was smooth and soft and your tongue started wandering, swirling around it. The tip of your tongue found his slit and the salty taste of him filled your senses.

"Oh-f-fuck, baby, you're not bad, not bad at all."

You knew you would smile if your mouth wasn't full of his cock and your brows weren't furrowed in concentration. "Relax your tongue, rabbit. You can let it go, tease me a little, kiss the shaft and do as you feel, y'know."

His voice was strained, like he was in pain, but the blown out darkness in his eyes, the deadly grip that he had on the couch's pillow, told you that he might feel something else. Something that you were feeling yesterday.

You let his cock out, a string of saliva that was pooling in your mouth still connected you as you started peppering his shaft with open mouthed kisses and licks. He was like warm steel under your lips, and you smelled something else besides whiskey and his pine soap. Salty sweat and something else, something you'd never smelled before but it was growing its roots in your senses, making your ministrations almost hungry. You felt him twitch and pulse under you, his breathing sound and feeling like the highest praise. You went lower, and lower, sliding your nose along his shaft as you got to the heavy sack of his balls, round and as big as everything else. You lifted uncertain eyes, Joel above you but with the most submissive look across his face that he tried to scold unsuccessfully.

"Go on, baby, you're doing perfect. You can give ‘em a kiss too." And you did. Your lips and tongue caressing the soft skin covered in coarse hairs. That's when you heard it, Joel moaned. The sound sent shivers down your spine, a gush of wetness that you knew wasn't all you period, started leaking out of you. You continued licking at his balls, lightly nipping on soft flesh, trying to get them inside your mouth but afraid to hurt him with your teeth.

"Th- that's enough teasing, baby, or I'll cum in your fucking hair." He stuttered a little and you gave his balls a final wet kiss, your cheeks heating up as you saw them shining covered in your saliva. You looked back at Joel, taking in his red, sweaty face and the clenched fist too close to his face, like he was biting it. Without waiting for the next instructions, you licked a fat stripe across his cock, taking the head back in your mouth. He was right, cocks were pretty easy.

You knew there was no way you could take all of him in, you weren’t even sure it was physically possible, so you hugged what didn't fit in your mouth with your hand trying to mimic little bobs you did with your head.

"You need to wet it first, rabbit, so it slides easier." He reached for your hand, his cock still half buried in your mouth. You gave it to him freely, shocked, but not repulsed when he slouched a spat in your mouth. "Go on, baby, you gotta make me feel good."

Your hand was wet, but not as wet as your panties. He was right once again, your spit-slicked hand moved easily around his shaft, the wet heat of your mouth complementing the soft motions of your hand.

"Tighter, baby, close your lips and your hand tighter. Yeah, just like that, f-fuck. You're good. Good girl."

Your left hand gripped at your thigh, nails digging in your skin through the sweatpants as you tried to contain a whimper begging to leave your mouth. You lifted your eyes giving his cock a stronger suck and met with dark pools of his staring back at you intently. You couldn't describe the gaze as anything but a painful hunger. You saw it a hundred times in the mirror, you just didn't know you'd see it staring back at you as you sucked somebody's cock. You hurried to close your eyes, somehow it felt too intimate, too close, your movements became a little faster as you got a grip, your thumb pressing into the underside of his cock, where a thick vein pulsed stronger and stronger with the more of Joel that you swallowed.

Your cheeks hollowed in a sucking motion and you felt Joel placing a gentle hand on your hair and yanking at it softly, making you return the eye contact as he started to speak through gritted teeth.

"I'm going to cum in your mouth now, you don't have to swallow, baby, you can spit it out, it's fine."

Still remembering the unique taste of his precum that you came to enjoy, you didn't even think about spitting whatever he gave you now. For some reason, you felt like owning a part of him deep inside you would make you more equal to him. Not that he ever treated you like anything less. Like you'd know a part of him that he didn't share before. His loud groan was the only warning you got before the hot spurts of his seed hit the back of your throat, you started swallowing, trying to taste him on the roof of your tongue as your soft flesh continued milking him until he was spent. You kept his cock buried in your mouth, still lightly caressing the flesh that couldn't fit with your right hand.

"Fucking hell, rabbit, you're gonna make me pay for our lessons if you keep acting like this."

You let his cock out with a wet pop, wiping saliva from your lips and kissing the shaft as you let it go and unable to say what made you do so.

"You already pay," you said mundanely, "you let me stay here, and you feed me."

"Right." For the split second that you swallowed his seed, your eyes blown out with desire, his brain short circuited and he forgot the kind of situation you were in. "Well, good then, we're even."

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#iamasaddie fic #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #HTBS #pimp!joel

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miasmaghoul · 2 months

Text

Girls Just Wanna Have Fun

Rating: E

Pairing: Sunshine/Aurora

Contains: transfem Sunshine, stoned ghoulettes, banter, snuggling (gone sexual), something of a first time, new discoveries and these two just having a real good day together.

HAPPY FEMSLASH FEBRUARY Y'ALL I HAVE NO IDEA HOW LONG THIS IS BUT WHO CARES BECAUSE WE CAN ALWAYS USE MORE WOMEN!!

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"You're so fuckin' pretty," Sunshine slurs, a stoned grin plastered across her freckled face. "You know that?"

Aurora chirps, pleased, raking perfectly manicured nails over the ghoulette's scalp. She's on her stomach between Aurora's legs, arms around her waist, tail curled around Aurora's ankle. Those nails scritch at a spot by her horn and Sunshine purrs with it, nuzzling Aurora's belly through the soft yellow cotton of her sundress. They've been here for hours now; what started as a self-care day had devolved into lazy snuggles and endless snacking once Sunshine revealed her secret stash of edibles. Not that either of them were complaining.

"Yeah?" Aurora giggles, twirling a russet curl around a slender finger. Sunshine nods against her stomach, rumples the fabric under her cheek. "Then why'd it take you so long to get me in your bed, huh?"

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Read the rest below the cut!

Sunshine shoves herself up just enough to look the little ghoulette in the eye, delighted at how heavy and distant they look. Silver-green irises shrunk to thin rings by her blown pupils, eyeshadow glittering in the rosy light of the setting sun. It's the same shade of cotton candy blue as her hair, gentle waves cascading over her shoulders. Her cheeks sit flushed and full, a dopey smile stuck on her perfectly pouty lips.

Pretty doesn't even begin to cover it.

"Whaddaya mean 'so long'?" She reaches up and taps the tip of Aurora's upturned nose. "You've only been here for like a week!"

"Um, excuse you - I've been here for 23 days," Aurora corrects, nipping after Sunshine's outstretched finger. "Thought I was gonna die of old age waitin' to get here."

"Pfft, drama queen." Sunshine gives her a wink, scooting up until they're chest to chest. "You're s'bad as Rain."

"Am not!"

She says it with an indignant pout, that lovely lower lip stuck out in deliberate biting distance. And, well, how could Sunshine resist?

"Sure y'are," she lilts, kissing her cheek. "Actin' like I've been ignoring you," another kiss, to her jaw, "when we both know," one more kiss for good measure, to her chin, "that you've been getting plenty of attention."

She takes Aurora's lip between her fangs, gives it a playful tug, and the little ghoulette's eyes sparkle. She can't keep her pout in place, mouth curling at the corners when Sunshine pulls back to give her a wink.

"Okay but not from you," she trills, looping her arms around Sunshine's neck. "A girl can only handle so much making out and over-the-clothes stuff, y’know."

"Are you callin' me boring?" Sunshine feigns hurt, makes her eyes go all watery and sad. Aurora pays it no mind, offers up a one-shouldered shrug even as her tail sneaks its way around Sunshine's thigh. "You wound me, Roro," she sighs, flopping with all her weight onto the smaller ghoulette's chest, forcing out an oof. "I thought you liked dry humping!"

"Not as much as you do," Aurora teases, and well, Sunshine's pretty sure no one likes dry humping as much as she does. Hell, just the thought has her cock going all tingly. "Besides," Aurora scratches at the space between her shoulderblades and Sunshine purrs again. "How'm I s'posed to not want more when I hear the way you make Lus scream?"

Oh now that makes her tingle. Sunshine shifts, drags her nose down the slender line of Aurora's neck. She sighs, tilts her head to give Sunshine more access, a move the ghoulette rewards with a nibble to Aurora's earlobe.

"You been listenin' in, little bird?"

"Didn't mean to," Aurora admits, not a hint of shame in her voice. "But she leaves her windows open 'n I'm right next door." Sunshine drags her fangs over Aurora's pulse point and the little ghoulette huffs out a soft oh. "Can't blame me for bein' curious."

She certainly can't. Sunshine still remembers her own early days, when she would perch on windowsills and bits of the roof that let her peek, let her listen. Let her spy on Dew riding Aether like a stallion, Rain getting Mountain his knees, Cirrus tying Cumulus up in pretty blue ropes and Swiss doing...well, everyone. She still thinks about those days sometimes, most often on the rare occasion she sleeps alone.

Which raises a very important question.

"Tell me somethin', Roro," she murmurs into the soft skin of her throat. Kissing a slow path over her collarbone, fingers teasing at the strap of her dress. Aurora makes a questioning sound, and Sunshine decides she needs to see her face when she answers. Aurora's cheeks have gone pinker than ever, bottom lip caught between her own fangs. "You ever touch yourself when you listen to us?"

Aurora doesn't hesitate, not even for a moment. She nods with enthusiasm, eyes going wider and her parted thighs falling even further apart. Sunshine grins, delighted, rolling her hips against the mattress in the most obvious way possible. Aurora makes the sweetest little gurgling sound.

"Good," Sunshine breathes, warm against soft skin. She plants both hands on the mattress when Aurora's hands slide back into her curls, dragging her lips over the pale plane of Aurora's chest, until she hits the top of her dress. "You ever imagine what I'm doin' to make Lussy sing like that while you play?"

"Yeah," Aurora whispers, hooking her ankles around the backs of Sunshine's legs. "Every fuckin' time, Sunny, can't help it."

Sunshine believes her, without question, but Aurora sounds far too pretty for her to stop now. She readjusts, wriggles one arm under that slight body to splay her hand over Aurora's spine. Her other hand slips down to hold her waist, thumb brushing the underside of her breast through her dress.

"Then how 'bout you tell me what you think I do," Sunshine kisses the center of her chest, inhales the scent of fabric softener and fruity perfume, "tell me what you do to yourself," she drags her open mouth over the slight swell of Aurora's chest, "and I'll tell you if you're right."

Sunshine punctuates her words with a kiss to the little ghoulette's nipple, stiff and straining against the fabric, and Aurora hisses.

"Fuck," she says on a slow exhale, "you're such a damn tease."

"S'what I'm good at, baby," Sunshine coos, the hand on her waist gliding up to cup her breast and give the soft mound a squeeze. "Now start talkin'."

Sunshine latches onto her nipple through her dress, and oh must the weed be affecting her because the little ghoulette arches right off the bed with a shocked whine. She's never that sensitive.

This is going to be fun.

"U-um," Aurora stammers, clearing her throat in an effort to regain composure. It sort of works, but Sunshine doesn't stop suckling so it's a pointless effort. "W-well, there's - there's this one noise she makes..." she pauses, sucks air through her teeth when Sunshine rolls her nipple between her fangs. "It's like...like a moan, but chirpy?"

Sunshine hums her understanding and Aurora shivers with the vibration. It's a sound she knows well, one Cumulus doesn't make for anyone but her.

"And, um...when - oh - when she does that, I...I imagine her on top of you."

A good guess, Sunshine thinks, but far from the truth. She gives Aurora a reprieve from her mouth, pulls back to admire the wet spot she's soaked into her dress. The little ghoulette sags in her arms, and Sunshine can already smell the arousal on her. Sweet like candy and twice as addictive. Sunshine throbs against the mattress.

"And what do you do," she croons, taking that nipple between two fingers instead, "when you think about her bouncing on my cock?"

"I use my fingers," she answers, wispy as a springtime breeze. "I...I kneel on my bed, I put two inside," she drags a heavy hand from Sunshine's hair, hold it up and crooks her middle and ring fingers, "and I...I ride 'em."

Oh, what a gorgeous picture that paints. Sunshine can imagine it now - she has yet to see the other ghoulette naked, but it's so easy to picture Aurora panting and writhing, little tits bouncing while she uses her own hand like a toy. Flushed down her chest and grinding her clit against the heel of her hand until she can't take it anymore.

Fuck, Sunshine hopes she can squirt.

"Hot," she says, ever eloquent. She moves to Aurora's other nipple, laves at it until it's as wet as the first. Twin dark spots that make Sunshine's balls ache. "That's a good guess, sweetcheeks," she murmurs, low, "but it's not what gets her to make that noise."

Sunshine gets both hands on her breasts, gives them a nice fondle, and Aurora groans.

"What does?"

Sunshine looks up, prepared to tease farther - she can go for hours, if allowed - but the look on Aurora's face has the words catching in the back of her throat.

She looks gorgeous, glassy eyed with bite-swollen lips and the tip of her tongue poking out between her fangs. She's breathing heavier already, fingers twitching against the back of Sunshine's neck and her tail gradually tightening around her thigh. Barely any stimulation at all, and yet the poor thing looks wrecked.

Sunshine surges up to kiss her, and decides teasing can wait for another day.

Aurora moans, an indulgent, wanton sound that flows into Sunshine's mouth like the sweetest water. Their tongues dance, their fangs click, Sunshine's pretty sure she's drooling down her chin, but it doesn't matter. All that matters is the way Aurora clings to her, the taste of her strawberry lip gloss and the way Aurora's hips roll to find her own. Sunshine reaches down to grip her there, pins the little ghoulette to the bed, and can't help but rut against her thigh.

Aurora's the one to break the kiss, gasping, and Sunshine can see the demand in her eyes before she has a chance to speak.

"Don't worry, little bird," she rasps, nosing at her bangs. "I'm gonna give it to you, I promise."

"You fuckin' better," Aurora spits, and it's so cute that Sunshine has to giggle.

"Don't you wanna know the answer first, Roro?" She tips her head, a cascade of short curls tickling her forehead. Aurora blinks a few times, seeming lost. "What makes Lussy scream," she clarifies, and Aurora's eyes roll.

"Uh huh," she nods, licking already wet lips. "Tell me, please tell me."

"I think it'll be more fun," Sunshine gets a knee under herself, presses her thigh right where Aurora needs it just to hear her choke, "if I show you."

The little ghoulette makes the loveliest keening sound, a warbling thing that makes Sunshine's belly warm, and then she's moving. Slinking down the short length of Aurora's body, kissing down her chest, the slight softness of her stomach, the curve of her hip - Sunshine settles between her legs, presses her face to the crease of her thigh through her dress, and can't wait to finally get underneath it.

"You really are beautiful, y’know," she coos, resting warm palms on Aurora's knees. They slide up her thighs with deceptive slowness, gathering soft fabric and exposing inch after inch of porcelain skin. Rucking the skirt up over her hips, exposing the cutest pair of silky pink panties Sunshine thinks she's ever seen. The not-small wet spot only adds to the experience. "Been dyin' to see how beautiful you are here, too."

Sunshine slides two fingers over the damp fabric, the barest pressure, and Aurora makes that gurgling sound again.

"You're gonna kill me," the little ghoulette complains, mindlessly tweaking those impossibly stiff nipples through still-damp fabric. "Fuck, Sunny, c'mon..."

Sunshine clicks her tongue, chastising, but she doesn't have much room to taunt the other ghoulette for her impatience. Not when she can feel the place where her boxers are starting to stick to her.

"Alright, alright, sheesh," she chuckles, giving Aurora one more rub just because. "But nex' time you're gonna let me have my fun first."

Sunshine nips at her inner thigh, makes her jolt, and then she's pressing her open mouth to that wet spot. Licking at the fabric and groaning at the taste of her, heady and sweet and utterly delicious. She groans, savoring her first taste of the little ghoulette, and hooks two fingers around the gusset. Aurora reaches down and gets a hand in her hair once more, rocks her hips towards Sunshine's face, and the soft growl that escapes her is nothing but hungry.

Sunshine pulls that strip of fabric to the side, exposes her properly, and -

"Oh," she breathes, suddenly dizzy, "isn't this a pretty surprise..."

Aurora's as beautiful here as Sunshine knew she would be, pink and slippery with the lightest dusting of platinum curls just at the apex of her thighs, but all Sunshine can focus on is the sweet little silver barbell threaded through her hood. Each end is decorated with stones that match the blue of her hair, and Sunshine's brain short circuits when she considers the possibility of the little ghoulette having a color for every time she dyes those luscious waves.

"D’you like it?" Aurora lets out an airy giggle while Sunshine drools onto the sheets, hooking one leg around her back. "Swiss n' Cir said you would."

Sunshine traces the piercing with her thumb, gives a slow nod, and feels a blurt of pre soak into her boxers when she taps the lower ball against Aurora's swollen clit and the little ghoulette shakes.

"Baby," she huffs, grinding into the bed, "you have no idea."

Aurora tugs at her hair then, just enough to pull her attention from the shiny thing that's making her throb, and Sunshine can't believe how good she looks from down here.

"Aren't you s'posed t'be teachin' me somethin'?"

Aurora blows her a kiss, and Sunshine hurts.

"Oh, sweet thing," she slurs, fucked up sixteen ways from Sunday, "I'm gonna make you sing like an angel."

"Good," Aurora breathes, palming her tits once more, "'cause I want everyone t'hear me."

Oh, Sunshine hopes she screams.

#miasma's work #the band ghost fic #femslash february #sunshine ghoulette #aurora ghoulette #sunshine/aurora #sunshine x aurora #transfem sunshine #will throw this on ao3 later #WOMEN!!!!!

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bakedbakermom · 6 months

Text

Good Morning

Rated X // 2300 words // Read on A03

tagging @today-in-fic @ao3feed-msr

Summary:

He loves her first thing in the morning.

Notes:

A little smutbiscuit for Kinktober 2023. Prompts: morning sex, frottage, (light) somno. I was 3 or 4 days into writing this fic when the painfully talented @msrafterdark posted this piece and it was like fate and the universe had come together.

He loves her first thing in the morning.

Well, he loves her all the time—volleying theories back and forth across the office over burnt coffee and crappy photocopies, singing along off-key to whatever radio station comes through the static three hours into a road trip from one corner of nowhere to another, lounging on a tiny motel bed with sharp springs and a pile of reports spread out like snow across scratchy blankets. He loves her on his couch sharing a beer after a long day, in her kitchen as they dole out boxes of takeaway (broccoli beef extra spicy for him, kung pao tofu for her, and she always nabs the carrots from his shrimp fried rice), nestled against him with her tiny feet propped up on the coffee table and a bad movie on TV. He loves her when she presses her sweet lips to his and breathes hot into his mouth, when she wraps her smooth white legs around his waist and whimpers “more,” when she clenches around him in the dark as she shatters on a gasp of his name. Oh yes, he definitely loves her then.

But he especially loves her first thing in the morning.

It’s something about how soft she is. Agent Scully is all crisp lines and barbed tongue, the creases of her suits pressed sharp enough to kill a man as she slices through the hallways of the Hoover Building like a red-headed sword of justice, eyes flashing blue steel. Agent Scully can unman the most cantankerous and blustering small-town sheriff with the twitch of one razored brow, can force Death itself at scalpel-point to surrender the most intimate secrets of the grave.

Agent Scully flashes through her days like a machete, too sharp to touch and so blindingly bright it hurts him to look at her sometimes. But Morning Scully. Oh Morning Scully…

Her edges blur in the evening, melting under his words and his mouth and his hands, but it takes until morning for her to grow butter-soft and creamy between the rumpled sheets of their bed—her bed or his, both are theirs, though this particular morning they’re secure behind door 42, the honeyed sunlight of a rare empty Sunday drizzling through the blinds and illuminating the intricate dance of the little dust motes that hang in the air. She sleeps on her side with her back to the window, the light catching her crimson hair in a nimbus that he thinks would inspire a better man to painting or poetry, but reduces him to gibbering wonderment.

He watches her sleep with something like awe. Her lips slack and slightly parted, still plump and red from kissing. Freckles sprinkled like cinnamon across her sleep-pinked cheeks, hair in a delightfully tousled disarray that makes him think of sunset clouds and cotton candy. There’s a little crease between her eyebrows as if she’s dreaming of something unpleasant, and he smoothes it oh so gently with his thumb. He doesn’t want to wake her; he’s not done looking yet.

The sheets have shifted as they slept, revealing the hourglass curve of her side, the mole cradled just inside the firm crest of her hip. She had whimpered last night as he tongued it, a long detour on his slow journey to the oasis between her thighs. Her body is ripe with secrets to explore, his mental map of her slowly filling in as he traverses every hill and valley. He writes “here be monsters” beneath her ribs where she is too ticklish to touch, “here be angels” on the curve of her breast where the gentle scrape of his teeth makes her breath hitch. He finds heaven in the cradle of her hips, nirvana in the fragrant skin of her neck, paradise in the lush press of her lips.

Morning Scully may be soft, but Morning Mulder is getting decidedly less so by the minute.

She stirs slightly and rolls onto her back, the sheet slipping down the slope of her breast. One rosey nipple emerges into the cool morning air, pebbling quickly into a tantalizing peak, and he can’t resist anymore. He leans over her and circles it gently with his tongue, then pulls it into his mouth. He licks and sucks, feeling her flesh tighten even more, and when he scrapes his teeth against it, her chest jumps beneath him. She sucks in a breath, and her hands come up to card slowly through his hair. “Morning, Mulder,” she murmurs, her words still slurred with sleep.

“Good morning, Scully,” he answers as his mouth slides wetly to her other breast, on which he lavishes the same attention as the first, the slow and thorough consideration of his lips and teeth and tongue. Her breathing quickens, her pulse jumping visibly beneath the soft skin of her throat, and she moans low and long. He runs one hand up her leg, and her thighs part with a contented sigh; his fingers move higher until they brush against the curls of her sex, parting them to reach the hot, slick slit beneath. Morning Scully is always putty in his hands, her limbs loose and heavy, making love to him like something from a dream. “Sleep well?”

“Mmmhmm.” Her hips move in small circles as he plays between her legs, right on the line between soothing and arousing, and a blush blooms across her chest. “Wh-what time’s it?”

“Late.” He kisses his way up her neck, suckles on her earlobe until she whimpers softly. She still hasn’t opened her eyes. “I let you sleep in as long as I could stand it. Sorry.”

“S’okay.” His fingers skim her entrance and she twitches beneath him. “This is a nice way to wake up.”

“Do you want to go back to sleep?”

Her face scrunches adorably, and she makes a grumpy whining sound in her throat. “Maybe?”

He smiles into her skin, presses his fingers just barely inside her. “Do you want me to stop while you figure it out?”

Eyes still closed, lower lip between her teeth, she smiles and shakes her head.

Her body is sleep-warm and limp as he drags her thigh over his hip, opening her to him. His erection presses into the firm flesh of her ass as he strokes her, coaxing her arousal slowly to life. He slides his fingers through the slick folds of her sex, coating them in her wetness; some of it must be from last night, when he had pressed her into the cushions of the creaking leather couch and come inside her with a cry that made the upstairs neighbor bang on the ceiling—and then again, in this bed, as she rode him like a prize pony until they both came apart at the seams. She clenched around him like a vise as they came together, and the way he spasmed inside her only set her off again, until their orgasms seemed to feed off each other in an ouroboros of pleasure that felt endless and left them both gasping, shaking, too exhausted to even roll off the wet spot, let alone clean up properly.

She’s slick halfway down her thighs.

“Fuck, Scully, you’re so wet. You feel so good.” He slides his tongue into her ear and one finger into her slippery, aching heat, and her neck arches off the bed. “You felt good last night, too, especially the second time”—and now he scrapes his teeth along the shell of her ear, slides a second finger alongside the first—“when your pussy was already full of my cum, when I could feel it leaking out of you as I fucked you.”

“Jesus, Mulder,” she gasps, and spreads herself open even more, hooking her leg behind him and shifting a little onto her side. He holds her across her stomach and gathers her partly on top of him; her head falls back on his shoulder so he can tongue the soft column of her throat, nibble the sweet ridge along her collarbone. He ruts against her as his fingers pump slowly in and out, her clit hardening beneath his thumb. One arm is still trapped against the mattress, and he wriggles it free as best he can to fondle her breast, rolling her nipple between his fingers.

She moans, squirming against him and pushing her ass deliciously against his hard length, begging for more. A quick shift of her hips, an awkward moment of fumbling, and then his cock is no longer trapped between their bodies but gliding between her slickened labia, and she brings a hand down to press him more tightly against her. He thrusts languidly, trapped between her hot little fingers and her even hotter cunt; he skims across her entrance with each stroke, rubs the head of his cock against her clit, her hips rolling in counterpoint to his sweet, unhurried rhythm. She reaches backward to grab his hair, whimpering, and his newly unoccupied hand busies itself at her other breast, groping and tweaking them in tandem.

“I love making you feel good, Scully.” His voice is velvet and gravel, his cock almost painfully hard against her molten core, and he talks to keep from embarrassing himself by coming before he’s even gotten inside her. “I love making you wet, feeling your clit pulse under my fingers, my tongue.” He licks her from shoulder to ear, leaving a glistening line of saliva along her skin, then sucks on the sensitive little spot where her jaw meets her throat. Soft little oh s spill from her lips as she grinds harder against his cock, and stars crowd his vision. “I love making you come, over and over. The sounds that you make, the way you smell, the way you squeeze me with your tight, wet cunt. ”

“Oh God.” Her whole body shudders and he feels a warm trickle of arousal coat his cock. Her face turns into the pillow, muffling the increasing volume of her moans. Greedy for the sound of her, he cups her jaw to pull her into a long, sloppy kiss, swallowing each whimper as she writhes against him with growing desperation.

“Are you awake yet, Scully?”

“Yes,” she pants helplessly against his mouth, his cock gliding between her soaked folds with almost no resistance. Soft, wet sounds fill the room, broken only by her breathy moans, his desperate panting. “More,” she manages to gasp. “God, more.”

His arm tightens around her stomach, and in one smooth move he drags her fully on top of him and scoots until his back is against the headboard. Her thighs fall to either side of his and he spreads her wide, his thick cock still thrusting along her slickened sex. She drops her head back against his shoulder and he growls, “Touch yourself,” into her ear.

A moment of hesitation, a deepening blush in her cheeks, and then she obeys. He watches her hand moving in quick tight circles over her clit, brushing the head of his cock as he slides it up and down the length of her. He slips just barely inside and she cries out, chasing him with her body when he withdraws, teasing her again and again. She gasps his name between casual blasphemies, notes in a symphony of moans and whimpers. “I want you inside me,” she finally begs. Her hand is slick with her own arousal as she wraps it around his cock, pumping him slowly, holding him against her entrance. She arches back to kiss him, plunges her tongue into his mouth, unable to stop the embarrassingly high-pitched whines coming from her throat. “Fuck, Mulder, I need you inside me when I come.”

“I live to serve,” he purrs against her mouth, and thrusts firmly upward, impaling her in one smooth motion. A loud cry pours from her throat—the neighbors are definitely going to complain again—and then she’s riding him for all she’s worth, her hips rolling and the muscles in her thighs clenching as she gallops toward release.

“Yes, oh God, Mulder, yes,” she gasps again and again, breathless and wanton, her tits bouncing in his hands as he pinches her nipples and her fingers making ever-more-frantic circles over her clit. “Close, so close, harder—”

Her words melt into a loud moan as he begins to plunge into her from below, his feet braced against the bed for leverage and his cock bumping against her cervix with every stroke. “Yes, Scully,” he hisses into her ear. “I want to feel it. Fuck me until you come.”

She’s tight and clenching around him, hotter than hell and slicker than sin, and his hand leaves her breast to join her fingers, stroking her clit together. He bites her nape, hard, and with a startled “ Oh! ” she shatters, her inner walls squeezing his cock in strong, rhythmic flutters as she gushes around him.

“Christ, Scully, did you just–?! Oh my god–!” Before she has a chance to answer or even catch her breath, he squeezes her tightly against his body and thrusts hard and fast, unable to hold back any longer. His ass lifts off the bed as he pistons in and out of her, desperate for release, and when she tightens around him again he comes with a roar—someone next door bangs on the wall—spurting hot inside her until his eyes roll back in his head and his vision goes red at the edges.

He comes down to find himself spooned against her, her ass cradled in the bowl of his hips as he softens inside her. They’ve made quite a mess, but his legs are burning like he’s been running for miles, and she’s gone completely limp against him; the last thing he can imagine is getting out of bed.

Still, he tries to be a gentleman.

“Want me to make some coffee? Then maybe a shower?”

She shakes her head against the pillow and pulls his arm tighter around her body. “I think I might be falling back asleep.”

He smiles into her hair. “Want me to wake you up a little later?”

“Absolutely.”

Hope you enjoyed! As always, comments will be printed and pasted into my little self-esteem scrapbook <3

#my writing #my fanfic #msr #msr fanfic #x files fanfic #fox mulder #dana scully #the x files #txf #xf fanfic #kinktober 2023 #good morning

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oftenwantedafton · 2 months

Text

Sticky Fingers - Steve Raglan/William Afton x Goth Female Reader

Rating - Explicit

Warnings - sexual content

Summary - You’ve had a habit of taking things that don’t belong to you since childhood. The streak of kleptomania carries you though to adulthood, where you’ve decided to alleviate the boredom of your new office job by knicking whatever catches your eye.

Completely unaware that you yourself have caught someone else’s.

Also available on AO3

It starts with a compact mirror.

Just a cheap little thing with plastic gems, something that catches your eye when you’re out shopping with your mother and she’s distracted for an agonizingly long amount of time. It fits so neatly in your palm and slips into your jacket pocket effortlessly.

The propensity to steal extends into your teenage years and then into early adulthood and your collection has grown. Costume jewelry and makeup and candy. Nothing of any significant value. Just whatever you can curl your fingers around and stow away at a moment’s notice. You’re good at avoiding suspicion, sneaking quietly away in your dark oversized hoodies, slouchy ripped jeans with deep pockets and loosely laced combat boots that have plenty of room to spare for the odd trinket.

Today you’re killing some time at a strip mall before you head into work. A pot of black lip gloss smothered in silver diamond dust winks at you from one of the shelves. Your eyes light up, mascara coated lashes lifting appreciatively. Such an easy thing to palm. No pesky security tag. Your black polished nails tuck around it securely. You add a miniature version of a fragrance that smells like cotton candy from the neighboring store. Some little skull earrings covered in cubic zirconia, easy enough to slip off the card they’re secured to. Amateur hour. Hardly any challenge. You walk away scott free.

***

You started working at the office two weeks ago.

Just a little temp job. Clerical work. Filing papers. Guiding clients to the correct social workers. Making appointments. That sort of thing.

It’s profoundly boring and you find your fingers itching for something to occupy them. You’ve always stolen from stores. Personal property wasn’t something you’d attempted yet.

And there wasn’t exactly a treasure trove of goods at your fingertips here. You’d hardly call walking away with a stapler or a pack of gum from someone’s purse tucked under the desk a triumph.

So now you’re scanning the interiors of the inside offices for anything that might catch your eye.

There’s a little rabbit figurine. White, small, rather plain. Just a humble porcelain figure. You’re not especially fond of bunnies and it’s certainly not your typical goth aesthetic. But there’s something about it. You notice it every time you lead someone back to the owner’s office. Middle aged guy. Silver in his hair and beard. Glasses. Everything a decade or so out of date. Older office equipment and technology and furniture. Clothes that have probably been in his wardrobe rotation for years. And this odd little figurine. Just sitting on one of the shelves when you walk in the room. Maybe it had sentimental value. Something from childhood. You should just leave it be. Your hands reach for it anyway when he’s distracted with a client. Cool to touch. Into the sleeve of your sweater it goes. Perfect sleight of hand. Magician’s trick. Watch me make a white rabbit disappear.

You sneak it into your mini backpack when you get back to your desk. It’s enough for today, you decide.

The afternoon is the busiest time of day. Far more people prefer to conduct business well past morning hours. Maybe other commitments keep them occupied until then. Bringing children to school. A dislike for getting ready in the early morning. You can certainly relate to the latter notion.

An inter office call startles you near the end of the shift. You’d been just about to gather your things and clock out. Many of the other office staff have left already.

You don’t recognize the voice at first. Can’t quite put a face together with it. The man is requesting a client list for tomorrow. You hardly think this is a pressing matter at this hour. And he could certainly look it up himself on the computer. But fine. You’d do it. Your last official act of the workday.

Steve Raglan. Hmmm. It was kind of familiar, now that you thought about it a little longer. The pages are warm when they exit the printer. You notice some of the text is faded. The toner cartridge needs to be replaced. You have no idea where it’s kept. It was still legible. He’d just have to make do or wait until tomorrow morning.

You make your way to the back offices. Most of the doors are closed. It’s a lot quieter now. No ringing phones or keyboard tapping or conversation.

Steve Raglan. Up ahead on the right. Oh. Yes. The guy with the rabbit. You tap your knuckles on the open door to announce your entrance. Step inside and find the space empty. After all that and the bearded man wasn’t even here. Maybe he’d gone to use the restroom. Well, not your problem anyway. You place the pages on the center of the desk blotter. Notice a nice looking pen. One of those fancy steel types. Silver. Sure, why not. A fee for services rendered. Now tucked into the waistband of your skirt.

The elevator is notoriously slow. You press the downward arrow button again as if that will make the passage any swifter. A soft chime to indicate it’s arrived. You step inside. The doors nearly slide closed before a hand interrupts them. Open once more.

It’s him. Bunny man.

You depress the button for the parking garage and tuck yourself back against the railing. The man fills the space with his presence. He’s taller than you’d realized. Not heavy, just solid. Intimidating in the confines of the elevator. You feel his eyes on you.

“I dropped off that client list you wanted. I left it on your desk. Sorry if the quality isn’t great. The printer is out of toner and I don’t know where they keep the spares. I can print it again tomorrow if you want.” You know you’re babbling. Trying to fill the awkward silence. Maybe feeling a little guilty about what you’d pilfered today. Two items from this social worker. Maybe a tad excessive.

No response. Not a nod, not a grunt, nothing. Just him watching you with those widely spaced eyes of his. Looming. The elevator settles and chimes. You’ve reached your destination.

You attempt to step out of the elevator when Raglan’s arm snaps out, blocking your path. The doors slide closed again.

“Do you know what I find so interesting? How you felt the need to take something that has absolutely no value, save sentimentality for its owner. And then added insult to injury by stealing one of my favorite fucking pens.”

Your heart drops. Oh shit. He knows.

“And then you couldn’t even do me the simple courtesy of printing out a couple of pieces of paper.”

You swallow nervously. What was the play here? Feign innocence? Just admit guilt and return the items and apologize? What did he want from you?

“What’s the real reason behind it? Looking for attention? Some teen angst bullshit you never outgrew? What’s the matter, were you not the favorite child at home? You decided to lash out by dressing in clothing that’s a cross between funeral wear and street corner attire—”

“—I was just fucking bored, okay? That’s it. There’s no deep mystery behind it.” You’re pissed. His words cut a little too deep. It’s part of his skill set as a career counselor. Intuition. A knack for seeing past the surface, the false fronts people put up. Discerning intrinsic value. God, did you feel you were fucking lacking right about now.

“Boredom. That’s the reason? Are you not given enough work to do?”

“Look, I’ll give you your stuff back, okay? Let’s just forget this ever happened.”

“Unfortunately for you, I am not the type to forgive nor forget.”

“So what, you’re going to narc on me?”

A slight smirk. You don’t think you like him wearing that gesture. “Not necessarily. Maybe I could be persuaded, just this once, to make an exception.”

Wait. Did he mean…?

“Why don’t we start by putting back what you stole, shall we?” Steve pushes the button to return to the floor of the offices. He’s made no move to step away this time, still lingering close to you.

A soft chime and hiss as the doors part. Eerily quiet. The lights have been dimmed. You notice a white rabbit’s foot on the keyring when the career counselor unlocks his office door.

There’s a slight rattle of lampshade and a soft click when he turns the light on, bathing the room in a cozy yellow glow. He tosses the keys onto the desk and removes his glasses, slipping them inside the leather eyeglass case tucked beside the keyboard. Some scattered pocket change rests nearby.

He turns to face you, lifting an eyebrow expectantly. You slip your mini backpack off your shoulders and unzip the inner compartment, withdrawing and handing him the rabbit. He returns it to the shelf it had been on originally. It looks so small in his large hands.

You start to reach for the pen still snug against your waistband. His hand clamps on your wrist, halting your progress. Lets his fingers explore, tracing to find the point of origin. Stroking along the side of your waist. The hem of your turtleneck sweater is nearly cropped and doesn’t quite cover your abdomen, a small band of flesh exposed between the bottom of your top and the waist of your leather skirt. The pen is warm from your body heat. He drags it upward slowly. You hardly dare breathe. Your face tipped up and his dipped down. Freed at last.

Raglan rests the finial against your bottom lip. Presses slightly. Your lips part. Eases the writing utensil between them. The barrel drags against your tongue. You can taste the metal. A gradual advance of the encased ink reservoir. Further still. Your heart hammers in your chest. Lips clamp down, applying suction as he withdraws it again. His breathing is loud, rapid. The metallic object drops from his fingers and lands on the carpet. His tongue replaces the void the pen has left behind.

You’d known he was about to kiss you, but it still catches you off guard. He presses against you and you stumble, colliding back against the table housing a coffee maker and corresponding supplies. The carafe rattles, packets of sugar spilling free of the bin they’re seated in. Those giant hands of his are now cupping your ass over the layers of panties and skirt. You’ve got a handful of his tie. Some ridiculous shade of purple. He’s stealing all your breath and you find yourself enjoying it, as insane as that sounds. Kissing a virtual stranger. Someone who’s old enough to be your father. And you like it.

You nip at his bottom lip. He releases your buttocks and tugs on your hair. Paints your throat with saliva. You hear a car alarm go off somewhere in the distance outside. Police siren. The office is downtown. There’s always something happening.

A hand up your skirt now. Your thigh high tights have roses embroidered on them. Calloused fingertips catch on the raised threads. You wonder what’s made them so rough. His beard is scratchy. You’ve never had a boyfriend with facial hair before. Fingers pressing at your crotch through the fabric of your panties, already damp with arousal. You feel him smile against your neck.

“Look at you. Shamelessly soaked,” he murmurs. “And why wouldn’t you be, dressed like this?” He’s inside your underwear now, scooping your fluid from your entrance and smothering your clit with it. You whimper. “You wanted to get attention and now you’ve got it, don’t you? Teasing and begging and…” His voice trails off softly, at odds with the finger he abruptly thrusts inside, eliciting a moan. “It’s going to be a tight fit, isn’t it?”

Steve works his finger in and out for a while, dragging a few more groans out of you before he adds a second. Your grip on his tie tightens. You hear some more things being dislodged from their orderly storage behind you. Catch sight of some red and blue flashing lights in your peripheral vision through the window, a response to wherever incident happened outdoors a little while ago.

“Your lips looked so good sucking my pen. I bet they’d be even more impressive wrapped around my cock.” The paired phalanges abandon your dripping pussy. He sucks them clean and then pushes on your shoulders. You take the hint and sink to your knees. A belt that looks very old with deep creases is the first barrier to your goal. Button and a zipper that catches stubbornly. Some rather lackluster briefs. What’s inside more than makes up for it.

Cut, flushed, thick and long. Stiff leather of your boots protesting against the way they’re placed, folding down over your toes. Your tongue swipes across his erection. He pushes down and guides it between your lips. Hand knotted in your hair. He’s taking charge, fucking into your mouth. Almost a gentleman at first, slow pace, shallow penetration. Letting you get accustomed to the size and feel of it. He tastes clean. You can detect a lingering scent of whatever soap he’d showered with that morning on his skin as he drags you closer to his body. Jerked away. Dragged closer. Slightly faster now. Inevitably your gag reflex protests at the intrusion. Too much saliva pooled in your mouth. The head of his cock stroking the inside of your cheek. Jabbing your throat. Making you struggle for air. Eyes pleading for mercy.

“So fucking good. I knew you would be. Swallowing that cock right down. I’d love to fill that mouth up but your cunt deserves a taste too.” He finally releases his grip in your hair and his prick slides free. Your chin is covered in spit. So is your neck. Several strands of hair are wetly clumped together. Eyes burning a little where the makeup has smudged. You’re willing to bet your features are dusted in silver glitter and smudged with streaks of charcoal.

He helps you to your feet, easily pulling you upright, then indicating for you to turn around and bend over. Skirt unzipped and moved. Panties tugged down to rest somewhere around your stocking clad knees. Your coworker fucks into you.

Your fingers reach for the table, wrapping around the edge. There is no introductory phase. He’s sunk down to the hilt. You are full. Stretched. A new ache to match your still stinging lips and sore throat.

“So fucking tight. But you’re taking me so well.”

You gasp short little pleas. For him to stop, for him to continue. You’re not sure which. A gnawing feeling deep inside. A light smack on one cheek. Fingers blanching newly reddened skin when they grip tightly. No one’s ever gotten you off this way. This vintage model of a man is going to be the first to do so. A buildup of pressure. The other hand now slapped down to grab your waist, the thrusts shuddering, sloppier, more frantic. Closer. Your pelvis shoving back to meet him. A wail of pleasure as the feeling crashes within you. A curse and a hot stream of fluid painting your insides. It leaks down over the stitched flowers and stems and thorns covering your thighs when he pulls out.

You already notice muscles protesting as you straighten up. You’re going to feel this even more tomorrow morning for certain. Steve’s already adjusted his clothing. You tug your panties back into place and zip your skirt back up. You’ll hit the restroom on the way out to finish cleaning up.

The career counselor retrieves the steel pen from the floor, tapping it against his palm before holding it out to you.

“Keep it.”

You accept the offering and it disappears, securely tucked away again.

“The toner cartridges are in the storage closet near the entrance. Middle shelf left side. I expect a new list on my desk first thing tomorrow morning.”

You nod, watching as he quickly straightens out the coffee bar and switches the desk lamp off before exiting the office and locking it once again. You’re more than a little taken aback by how casual the conversation is, considering he’d been fucking your brains out mere moments before.

“And one last thing. Keep your fucking sticky fingers to yourself. If you’re that bored, come see me. I’m sure I can find something to keep you occupied.”

Another smirk. You think you might like that little gesture after all.

#william afton x reader #william afton x you #steve raglan x you #steve raglan x reader #dividers credit @saradika-graphics

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givemeonereason · 3 months

Text

Rose-Colored Boy

Photo credit here

Rating: Rain-soaked Cotton Candy

Plot: Your sunshine husband always finds the bright side in everything.

A/n: This one took me a while. I had other pieces I needed to get out. I also got Covid and topped that with my birthday and the holidays. Though it was nice to take a small break. I'm glad this was the first piece in the new year.

The one thing that is so infectious about Kyojuro Rengoku is his overly loud countenance. And unshakable will, but he means well. I love this about him. The happiness he sees in every moment is absolutely admirable. It’s probably why he’s a fan favorite.

This was inspired by my own experiences with being a natural pessimist. I’ve been burned by the flames too often to know better than to expect good outcomes. Honestly, sometimes I wish the only flames come from the hashira himself.

*BONUS* I was listening to this while I wrote. It really helped me move along with this.

╒══════════════════════╕

You looked up at the gathering dark clouds above your head and sigh. “Of course, it would rain. We’re only halfway there.” You huffed, looking down at the best kimono you own. “This is going to be ruined.”

Your husband raised his head towards the sky, smiled and laughed cheerfully. “Thank the gods for this rain. We really need it if our garden is going to thrive this season.”

You look over at him, your eyes relaxing when you see his cheeks puffed in his smile.

You couldn’t be angry with his enthusiasm. He was right. The area was suffering from a terrible drought. Many locals have had to go without because of it. Only the support of the nearby town was able to keep people from starving to death. A blessing, for which everyone was grateful.

But you, aren’t so grateful. You tend to complain about the garden at your estate. It’s so much work to keep up with, even when the servants help.

Only Kyojuro Rengoku would think about this now, his precious sweet potatoes. They make him so happy though. And you love that about him.

Umai!

You laugh to yourself at the thought of him shouting during every snack and meal. It’s the one word, the one sound, that will never get old. You can practically hear it even when he’s away on missions and even if you’re lucky in your sweetest dreams.

“Rain is good and all, but why does it have to rain today of all days. We hardly get to go into town together. I was hoping that tonight would be special.”

He took your hand in his, twining his fingers with yours. “Every day and every night with you is so special.”

You were blushing. “Kyo…”

“What’s the matter, my flame?”

You gripped his hand tighter. “I just love you is all.”

Kyojuro pushed his chest out with pride. His cheeks red with happiness. “And I love you, my dear!"

You pulled yourself close to him, holding onto his strong arm. ��You’re always so optimistic. I hate that, but I could never hate you.”

He turned and kissed the top of your head and wrapped his arm around you just as you felt a raindrop hit your cheek. You contorted your face into a pout, which made Kyojuro laugh.

“Don’t laugh at me!” You pouted even more shoving your face into his chest. You felt his chest rumble as he laughed even harder.

The rain fell upon you both as you continued up the path. His hashira's cape draped over your head, not much protection as the wet seeped through the fabric.

When you stepped through the threshold of the town’s inn, you were drenched. Your hair was falling out of the carefully placed pins. The stain of your blush smeared down your cheek. The hem of your kimono sullied with mud. The ick of the elements enveloping you. You felt absolutely foul.

Kyojuro pushed his dripping bangs out of his face. He smiled brightly toward the matron of the inn. He bowed deeply. “Pardon us, madam, would we be able to impose upon you to stay for the night? My wife will not be able to make it back to our home with the weather conditions at present.”

“Yes, I have a room you may stay in.”

"Thank you so much." He bowed deeply once more. His hand on the small of your back leads you forward.

You noticed that the inn lady was very soft-spoken, even when she told you both not to worry about the trailing mud on the hardwood in the hallway.

This bothered Kyojuro nonetheless and he scooped you up into his arms so that the hem of your kimono wouldn’t drag anymore. Only wet footprint left from his socks marked the floor when you made it to the designated room.

“The bath is at the end of the hall. Please feel free to use it. I will bring robes for you to change into.” She bowed and continued down the hall.

“Ughh, this night is just terrible, isn’t it? I can’t wait to get into the bath. I feel so gross!”

“Then let me take you to the bath, my fire.” Kyojuro picked you up into his arms again, carrying you down towards the bath. He kissed you gently, looking down into your eyes. “Even if you were covered head to toe in mud you would still be beautiful.”

“Ewww! That’s so gross!” You pushed him lightly and he chuckled.

“While you’re in here I’m going to help clean the mess we made in the hallway.” He was already unbuttoning his jacket at the wrists and pushing the sleeve up his forearms. “I better get to work.” He flashed you a smile before walking down towards the entryway.

Kyojuro Rengoku, a light in a dark space.

When you peeled away your clothing you got into the bath and sunk down to cover as much of yourself as you could.

You have been looking forward to this day for weeks. When Kyo said he had a hashira meeting, it just made sense that you would go into town and make the most of it. When he's called to those meetings you never know what is going to happen, is it good or bad? Is it going to be a new mission, or intel on a upper-rank demon? You never know. So you try and make the best of your time with Kyojuro when you can.

But the way the day took a turn for the worse this time.

You can hear him talking to the inn lady from outside the door. He's so cheerful, so full of life. How on earth with such polar dispositions did you land him? It wasn't even arranged. Was he swayed by your beauty, sure, but that can't be the only reason why he chose to pursue you right?

You felt refreshed after soaking in the warm bath water. So you dressed and made your way back down the hall towards your room. The floors had a subtle sheen to them. Most likely due to Kyojuro’s heavy-handed cleaning. You laughed to yourself. You imagined the mad dash he made down the hall with his rear proudly up in the air as he wiped the floor clean in a steady line, a big smile on his face. You knew he would do anything to help others. The values his mother instilled in such earnestness.

Kyojuro Rengoku’s heart and soul exists in only pure kindness and altruism.

The guestroom had a table set in the middle. The amber light of the overhead lamp buzzed down onto tatami-lined floors. Kyo's dark brown uniform coming into view. "There is my beautiful wife." His smile spread widely across his face. His hands grasped onto either sided of your shoulders, a kiss placed upon your forehead. "Do you finally feel refreshed?"

You reached up and held onto one of his forearms. Your eyes closed when he pressed his lips to your cheek then. You smiled, feeling his honeyed-toned voice seeping deep into the rose of your cheeks. "Yes, I do feel refreshed now. You are welcome to the bath if you'd like."

"Yes!" He boomed in his usual volume. You laughed at the shift. The voice he used for only you is soft and sweet, but his normal countenance is explosive. The polarized juxtaposition of personality, yet in such perfect harmony.

You look towards the sliding guestroom door. "I saw that the hallway looked very clean on my way back here."

With his hands on his waist and chest puffed outward he shouted another, "YES!"

You reached for the buttons of his brown jacket and unfastened the top three easily. "You always liked cleaning the floors at home. No wonder you so generously volunteered to clean them here."

He worked the buckle of his belt and pulled the white leather through the hoops of his slacks. "It's the least I could do after we unintentionally brought all that wet in with us."

You closed your eyes, but the pressure from their roll still tensed behind your eyelids. "Yes, how could I forget." You looked towards the window, the rain still spilling down from the dark clouds above. "And to think, we could have been stooling the market street at this very moment." You sighed, your hand grasping the soft fabric your robe that was nearest your collarbone.

Kyo's voice came in again, soft, honey, sweet. "I promise that when I get back we will make the trip once more." He came up behind you, gently kissing the delicate skin behind your ear. A shiver scaling down your entire body. "Weather permitting of course."

He would do that for you. And you knew that he would make the trip even more special in some form. Knowing him all too well, he will probably present you with a brand new kimono for the occasion, possibly a new hair accessory, shower you with fresh flowers or sweets. Or if you're especially lucky, you might even go to town by carriage. It could be any, or even all of those things. Though, the only thing you've ever needed is him. Just Kyojuro, home and safe with you. The trips to town or even longer excursions don't matter if you don't have the one person who you've spent so many years with.

When he leaves for missions, you wait for him. Wait to hear the sound of his sandals on the gravel. The sound of his humming near the garden before he walks through the door. The verve of his laughter when you throw yourself into his arms. His calm breath in your ear.

He's home.

He's safe.

He's alive.

Kyojuro turned quick and made his way out of the room towards the bathroom. You sat down at the small square table and took the cup filled with tea to your lips. The warm liquid racing down your throat now warming your insides.

A young woman appeared at the door with the meal service. She placed the dishes carefully down on the table. It looked delicious and even more so smelled delicious. You poured another cup of tea and placed it on the opposite side of the table for where Kyo would sit with you.

You sat quietly and listened to the rain. The pattering of the raindrops hitting the roof would put you to sleep had the food in front of you kept you from lulling. Yet, your eyes were closed nonetheless enjoying the quiet—

The door opened with a flash. Your husband, robe-clad charged into the room towards the table. “It smells so good in here. And look!” He marveled at each plate in front of him when he sat. “These dishes look amazing!” He served you some of the stewed beef before eagerly taking some for himself.

itadakimasu--Umai!

You savored the rich taste of the sauce as it meshed so well with the vegetables.

Umai!

"Indeed this food is very good. However, I don't think it's as good as Rika's cooking." Your housekeeper is very skilled in the kitchen, which, unfortunately, has always been your weak spot in your marital life. Even if you did cook, Kyojuro always made you feel as if it were a wonderful meal.

Umai!

"Kyo, please be careful my darling. I don't want you to choke." You reached out for his hand that firmly grasped a large piece of beef between two chopsticks. But he shoved the meat into his mouth anyway.

Ummmahhh.

He could barely speak with such a large mouthful.

You sighed and shook your head. You laughed when you saw how wide his smile was, his cheeks puffed with food on each side. He could pass as a woodland creature.

You took another bite of your food. The difference is you chewed your food and swallowed before you let out a softer, but pronounced "umai!" It had similar energy to Kyojuro's, but the volume would never match.

Now that he swallowed the hunk of meat in his mouth, he laughed heartily at you. One hand on his belly and the other at the crown of his head, which he had thrown back in his laughter. His flame-tipped hair flattened from washing, now curling up at the edges near his eyebrows and chin.

He looked at you bright-eyed. "You know, you're very beautiful when you smile. It's one thing about you that I never tire of."

You blushed deeply, dipping your chin down towards your chest. "I'm sure you are the only one who thinks that my love."

His fist hits the table making the plates tremble. Though he's not angry in the slightest, his Kyojuroisms intensify even the most subtlest of actions.

"Everyone knows you're the most beautiful!" He got up from where he sat cross-legged and walked to the window, looking down at the rain-sullen garden below.

You're not sure if he's practicing for the stage. Shakespeare? Kabuki? Such drama, so Rengoku.

"Men are envious that I have such a beautiful and extraordinary wife." He looked back towards you. His eyes were soft again. "No other woman in all of Japan-- in all of the world could compare."

You put your bowl of rice down on the table and joined him at the window, resting your head on his shoulder as you looked out farther towards the empty street, lanterns rocking to and fro in the wind. "I am the luckiest woman in all the world."

"I am the luckiest man. I thank the gods every day for meeting you. And when I'm away, all I can think about is coming home to you."

You wrapped your arms around him. "How are you like this all the time? Isn't it exhausting?"

He held onto you tighter. "How so?"

"Aren't you tired of always being happy, always seeing the bright side, putting people before yourself? You're so joyful." You looked up into his amber-red eyes. "I love that about you, but you don't have to try so hard with me. You don't have Kyojuro Rengoku all the time."

He laughed. "But I am Kyojuro Rengoku."

You laughed as well, pressing your face into the shoulder and taking a breath. "I know, but what I'm saying is, if you keep burning so unwaveringly, all that will remain of you is ashes." You gently pulled his face down towards you and kissed his lips. "What good are ashes? I could use them in the garden, but who would I harvest sweet potatoes for? I want you and only you, no other variation."

Kyo kissed your lips, lingering there before looking into your eyes. "I will always be with you flame, fire, and ashes, in here." He pointed to your heart and gently placed his palm against the soft fabric of your robe. "I will never leave you, even in death."

He held onto you tightly when he mentioned death. He could die at any moment. His occupation continuously puts him at death's door. He is one of the best swordsmen, but death will come for all eventually.

You constantly think about the possibility of him dying. He could be outmatched. The thought strickens you.

Flame, fire, ashes, death, fire, death, umai, umai, umai, flame, fire, ashes, death. Death.

You rubbed your eyes against his robe, tears rolling down your cheeks. "Please don't go. Kyo, please...Come home with me. We can figure out something new. We will take Senjuro and Shinjuro with us."

You knew this pleading wouldn’t go far. It’s been a Rengoku legacy for generations to become the flame hashira. And all he wants to do is help people. To protect them. To protect you.

He got you down to rest on the futon. “Kyo…” You could barely talk. Your face buried into his chest. A blanket covering you both on the futon you were now sharing. You didn’t stop shivering until you honed in the rhythm of his heartbeat.

The table and plates had been cleared away an hour ago. And you were embarrassed when a young girl came in to take food and table away, your eyes blotchy and red, tears streaming down your face. So you hid behind Kyojuro. The girl profusely apologized for the interruption.

Buh-bum, buh-bum.

You focus now. Your breathing leveling out. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin the night.”

He brushed the hair stuck at your temples away and ran his fingers down your side. His gentle touch pulling you close to his body. A comfort that only he can bring. “You have nothing to be sorry about.” He tries to whisper, but due to his premature hearing loss, what he thought was a whisper, to you was a regular indoor volume. “I am very sorry to make you worry so much over me.”

“Of course, I worry about you. You’re my— my— my world.” You hugged him tightly. “I wish I could do something to protect you. The only thing I can do is try to prevent you from leaving, but you will go anyway. I’m not strong enough to keep you here. And I don’t want to, but I don’t want to wake up one morning knowing you’ll never be here beside me.”

He remained quiet, rubbing you back in languid strokes. This is a conversation that you frequently have. The end conversation. Always at your behest. The song and dance remain the same. Kyojuro and you never move out of place. He resolves to his missions, and you dissolve to worry.

You quieted yourself, concentrating on his heart again.

Buh-bum.

The scattered pattering of the rain slows outside of the window. Sleep pulling you into its hollow embrace. “I will never leave you. I promised you.” He somehow was so soft there in your ear. The fulfilling embodiment that sent you into slumber.

You hear rustling and open your eyes. The morning light shining in your eyes. Kyojuro is aside the window adjusting his hashira's cape. Your guiding light. You lift yourself up to stretch. "Oh, good you're awake." He smiles down at you. He pulled you up into his arms. "Good morning, my flame."

You pushed your face into his broad chest. He's so warm. "Morning." His arms stretch around you. "I'll change quickly so you can get an early start." You walked towards the privacy screen and began dressing into your kimono.

Someone soft-spoken came into the room while you were dressing and brought a light breakfast for the two of you. He stood beside the table waiting for you. When you sat down opposite him, he finally sat down. The joy in his voice as he ate happily. Food really is one of the most important things to him. If you let him he'd eat all day. Though it did make sense, being a hashira requires a high level of athleticism. He needs all the energy he can get.

But the best energy he gets is the love he receives from you. If he never could eat again, he would simply exist solely on your subtle glances, the warmth of your touch, the sound of your laughter, and the sweet taste of your kisses.

Forbidden fruit within reach.

Reaching out for him at the head of the road. The grass beneath your feet. You never want to let go, and he would rather you didn't. "Kyo, please be careful."

You heard him chuckle. He's putting up a good front, always.

"You have nothing to worry about." He winked at you. His infectious smile spreads into your own cheeks.

"Kyo---"

He turned back as he began to walk away. "I'll be back in a flash." He smiled again. His blond hair swayed over his shoulder, the string tied tight around the ponytail at his crown. It was the very same string you so delicately braided for him the first night he told you he loved you. He's kept it since.

"I love you." You smiled back at him.

"Love! You!" Kyojuro shouted back as he started moving down the dirt road. He took off in a mad dash down the path and into the woods. When you lost sight of the white of his cape fluttering behind him you walked in the opposite direction towards the Rengoku estate.

The air was fresh after the rain. The grass was greener. The flowers are in bloom on the trees. The sun warming your skin. The road rises up to meet you at every step.

Even though he's gone, he's still here with you. The lasting signs of his love in your usual disposition shifting, even if only for the moment.

The world is so much better when he's in it. Everything is brighter, it's so full of life.

Our life, you thought.

Ours and only ours.

Well, sweet potatoes too, but still ours...

Come home soon, my love.

╘══════════════════════╛

Don’t steal other people’s works! Respect creators!

Reblogs and likes appreciated :)

#kyojuro rengoku #rengoku kyojuro #kyojuro rengoku and you #rengoku kyojuro and you #kyojuro rengoku x reader #rengoku kyojuro x reader #rengoku #demon slayer #demon slayer fanfic #kimetsu no yaiba #KNY

61 notes · View notes

sugar-petals · 2 years

Text

sub!stray kids | 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 (18+)

⇢ sub training (v.) :: the learning of sexual techniques between the dominant and their submissive

pairing. ot8 x femdom!reader

WARNINGS. ⚠️ rated m, hard kinks, restraints, first times, reverse size kink, vocal subs (duh, it’s skz), puppy/kitten play, marking, dumbification, poly fantasies, toys, fetish wear, brat taming, oral (f receiving), pegging, mommy kink, groping, orgasm control, subdrop, burnout mention, masturbation, cbt, dacryphilia, striptease, aftercare

wc. around 1k each member. we’re keepin’ it long like hyunjin’s legs

↳ [ // 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. ] sub skz beloved. 💦 this group is truly populated by harness models, catboys, cuddle bugs and pretty visuals only. get ready for a #fifty shades of stray party up in here 😂 every member got their own flavor so each imagine/hc is going to be a slightly different genre soo— enjoy!

read it on ao3 | 💋 masterlist 💋

♡ FELIX 필릭스

the real question is. what on earth is there left to train? felix is the consummate example of a good freckled boy from down under. #theoriginalbabychick. the template for all angelic subs in town. the archetype. the blueprint. the role model. the symbol. the epitome.

perfection is spelled y.o.n.g.b.o.k. and we all know it. why’s he so popular? because he sets off the sub radar of all touch-deprived tops around, yours included.

like.... he wears his metaphorical cat ears even when he’s not physically putting them on. he’s soft and sweet and pliant and follows your lead (…cuz he’s lowkey excited at the prospect of a choking, he’s got a much naughtier side to him ya know). he wears thigh-high stockings just for fun because it’s cute.

and this ain’t all about him, of course. felix takes one glance to know what you want. and that is being his mommy, and getting a big loving hug from your baby boy — don’t deny it.

i mean. who can’t imagine this cheeky flirt chirping ok, yes mommy in his girl’s direction. it’s far too easy to picture. he has all kinds of these lil’ responses up his sleeve just to endear you. who’d ever want to let go of felix anyway.

in return, you buy him popsicles, gelato, soft serves and sorbets so he can look cute and sexy and just… put the licks i mean lix in felix. just a joy to watch, felix going down on an ice cream. the ultimate turn-on technique. who wants to live vicariously through a cotton candy flavor scoop? i volunteer.

if that doesn’t get you wet, i don’t know what will. before he’ll get problems eating too much sugar though, he’s frequently gonna eat the real treat which is? you. get ready for felix treating your clit like a hot fudge sundae in the middle of august.

felix can be sensual and sensitive alike. he falls apart under your touch and punishments as beautifully as he collects himself again during aftercare. which, needless to say, is his favorite thing. he’s very needy for it, but hell. who doesn’t want to cuddle all night long with lee fucking felix. as the sacred text says: and when the world was seven days old, god formed lee felix from clay to create the immaculate little spoon.

actually resilient. he’s the `okay, let’s do it!´ type. all while expressing a lot of love to you, and being close to you emotionally and physically. that balance is hard to pull off and felix might be the member who’s the expected best at it.

so, it’s not all bdsm, though. plenty of leisure and healing time there, your relationship is rather built on being a two-person snuggle pile than you pulling his hair all night. every other night is fine. duh, only the absolute lifestyle players can maintain a 24-7 d/s relationship.

when he throws his head back and moans — how satisfying is that voice. honestly. felix is not the ultimate painslut, but some nipple clamps or firm ass pinches do have him panting and winding in agony.

how he sounds like, it’s quite significant in your decision to commit. once you’ve heard his most desperate horny cries, you’ll never want to hear anyone else's voice in your bedroom again. you don’t know why.

maybe because sunshine is the real-life manifestation of a hardcore hentai femboy sub. the groans, the favorite accessories, the kinks, the squeals, the begging, the faces. you know, the kind of guy that ends up perched between his domme’s breasts (…or thighs) and blushes excessively from shyness.

he asks you to start controlling the way he dresses and speaks sometimes as part of play. he likes your single-minded character.

he knows you mean business when calling him lee yongbok. it either means you’re about to eat his ass whole or rock your hips all over his gorgeous face. either is heaven for felix who has a thing for skilled tongues, and being skilled with it himself. the absolute tease.

such a fit and flexible guy. felix makes it easy to adjust things for you. he can squeeze it good for some decently tight and painful anal session, or the complete opposite. having the strap just slip in and out of him like he’s a bottomless pit. felix is the first in line for a proper head down, ass up pounding late at night. until he’s dizzy, but then again, he begs you to enter him again and again. the amount of lube he’s using up is just astounding and expensive.

when lix wants to prank you a bit, he lists you cringey australian slang for kinky things, which you will rebuff pretty much immediately because who names these things like that. australian nsfw words need to be kept closed away from society. the rest of his nicknames and trend words is cute. but 18+ aussie vernacular is banned at your house. the prank is definitely successful, so you tickle his feet to get back at him.

whenever lix is acting unlike himself, you know he’s hiding a dirty thought. it takes several months of trust work until he admits the following, but it doesn’t really surprise you what’s on his mind. since felix has a bit of an overpower-me fixation and a serious size kink, he fantasizes about several fangirls meeting with him in his room and having their way with him. like literally being all over his body and destroying this sweet little boy for fun’s sake.

and… he’s imagining like seriously well-endowed baddies who have a lot that they can put on him. he literally wants several girls to just grind him into the mattress until he turns to dust. you’re like, hey maybe we can ask some girls from tiktok or instagram. felix is shocked that you’d go along with it, he thought you’d disown his subby ass. you say hey, you count yourself among the felix fangirl and fanboy nation, so!

now it depends. is he too introverted or disconnected from his fantasy to agree on really living it, so it would winds up being a roleplay between the two of you? or is he daring enough, then. you say, when he’s ready, he’s ready. those things have to be planned carefully, with the right people.

chances are, he will say yes and buy the condoms. he wants to get fucked absolutely dumb. you agree he can get his dick wet while getting passed around like the salt at dinner, and these girls can rub themselves all over felix at your permission. damn, he’s gonna be sore the next day. all those heels digging into him, so much heat, so much pressure and facefucking. felix is totally a masochist undercover, and you’re starting to realize it’s very trainable: congrats and g’day mate.

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♡ HYUNJIN 현진

riddle me this. why does mister `hotter than your ex better than your next´ never leave his room? …because you’re busy running ice cubes over his stomach to say the least. or swapping them from your mouth into his. don’t act like you wouldn’t do the nastiest things to him.

like what do people think this sex pot is doing? he can’t paint 24/7. hyunjin is a guy of passion and he’s the body. not to mention in love with the pervert that is you. so he’s in there preoccupied with sex stuff obviously.

after he finally admitted how desperate his crush on you was, and it’s not like he could ever hide those things, there was no stopping him, and no stopping you with the body oil to grease him up. the rest is history.

you can bet he’ll be your personal strip tease dancer once he’s all oiled up. nothing will ace hyunjin enjoy more. not to mention your own blessed eyes. water is wet, i know.

so what’s it like domming the most beautiful, handsome, fascinating, and chic man in the world? nothing short of an extraterrestrially good experience. because subby hyunjin truly is out of this world kind of sexy with the right dose of being a maniac, reference fully intended. yeah, he’s a lil’ crazy. so what. makes things even more intense. hyunjin is obsessed with exploring his sexuality to the very fullest, what’s not to like. he’s very comfortable being erotic. and smitten. and masochistic.

no matter what he does, no matter how klutzy he becomes, he does not fail to impress his top. even in his messiness, he is gorgeous… okay — i’ll stop waxing poetic. but yup he’s hot. a pretty romantic elven prince in some super sultry lingerie. a god of lace and fishnets.

let’s be honest. hyunjin just wants to be grabbed and squeezed from all directions. that’s why he’s bothering the whole of skz all day and keeps talking chan into writing such physical songs for him. cuz he wants something to come back.

has his experience with chain bondage, doesn’t he. hyunjin goes down the rope bunny rabbit hole faster than anyone. if he’s not down there already, waiting for a proper rigger dominant. he has the perfect body to do rope. small waist, long legs, sturdy arms, and wrists. he’s tall, that’s lots of space available. don’t think a rope bunny has to be small and lithe.

hyunjin is a huge fan of taemin’s work. that tells you what? basically everything. everybody knows taemin is the king of bondage, resourcefulness, and hard subbing. and, like in hyunjin’s case, taemin got the biggest ever oral fixation and touch deprivation going for him. these two are about the same in terms of er... severity. hyunjin would not survive without getting kisses. before work, coming home, after dinner, for the night.

because he whines pretty easily, it’s not hard to find out where his limits are and what things to try with hyunjin or not. `complaints´ don’t make a bad sub, in fact, they make a good one. feedback, you know. better a lot of it than none at all. it’s good if a sub uses the safewording system.

on his fours, hyunjin looks so sexy splayed out on his underarms and knees exactly because he is so damn tall. and yes, stark naked, even half-suspended, with some electric toys in his ass as the cherry on top. you might stay clothed during the whole thing, it’s about him as the artistic centerpiece. while he’s going through it, you point your phone cam at him to immortalize the staging.

loves his brain disintegrating from extreme pleasure and pain. which he will cry out like he’s on a rollercoaster indeed. the deeper the moans, the more profound you know it will be. watch his experiences turn into paintings in real-time the next day. hyunjin gets major inspiration spikes from sub training.

even though he might seem super stubborn, hyunjin’s talent of self-improvement should never ever be underestimated. never. if you point something out, he only needs to be told once. a man who’s glowed up this stunningly is always to be reckoned with.

hides his crazy toys, but not for long. he’s so embarrassed asking if you could be the one to apply them on him, but he does ask. which speaks of him really confiding in you. he would not leave those things to a perfect stranger. hyunjin is very unlikely to request sub training from a hookup anyways. he needs a domme he can absolutely lose him mind about day and night. he thinks about you every time he cums, there’s no other fantasy in his head. he definitely wants to be your husband in the future. he wants a wife who is possessive and take-charge, and picks out the skirts for him to wear.

you talked about this together. he loves being denied blowjobs to torture him for real. the fantasy in his mind will drive him insane like... he will cower in his bed at night with thoughts racing and turning. any orgasm denial is right up hyunjin’s alley. vice versa, he is eager to please you with his amazing hands.

shakes it all off pretty quickly during aftercare. hyunjin is not the sub drop kind of submissive at all, it’s gonna surprise you. most of the aftermath quickly turns into him eating you out instead. that’s his favorite way of coming down. lazy as they come (not indifferent or anything, but you know what i mean), without a drama in the world. he can’t be “disgusting, do it again!!” all day.

already vowed to spend the majority of his waking life and sexually active years on this planet with you sitting on his face. he doesn’t lie, and it’s too otherworldly gorgeous to go to waste, look at those lips, so.

his head is easy to control and teach because his hair’s so long. just saying. he loves it grabbed and secured. what else. he’s a pisces. pisces love to be pulled by their lovely flowing locks. hyunjin’s prettiness has no limits. nor does his sloppy mouth.

even for the pickiest dom in the world, oral training slave hyunjin will do it for them. he’s that good. strap sucking? very much included. porn stars step aside and leave it to the stray kids pet boys: hyunjin is the absolute throat goat. he can muscle through the biggest calibers with his eyes closed. and you know there are lots of options with that silicone in terms of shapes and sizes. hyunjin is gonna show up in the studio with one raspy voice and very puffy lips. this might be your favorite thing to do with him. he has the best gagging noises EVER.

you really delight in having him dress all dolled up, gauze faux leather bowties pearls everything, training him to let go and just enjoy it no thoughts head empty — but there really aren’t that many steps left until complete bimbofication like. come on. it’s hyunjin. he’s already there, he’s got the lip gloss supply, he’s serving it. which brings me to my next point.

a mutual marking. you, with love bites. him, with said lipstick. this is gonna be a mess, but there’s nobody better suited to be covered in hickeys than hyunjin. not to mention just how much of a turn-on it will be to lick and nibble on him everywhere, aggressively or softly, or both.

dare i say his face is smackable. hyunjin is a sucker for heavy slaps. but it takes a lot more to finish a horny slut of that degree. hyunjin needs to be told to jerk himself off furiously with a vibrating fleshlight until he’s overstimulated, screaming, crying — and then kissed until he’s tired and dizzy and clinging from so much love.

very well, i told you. he’s fascinating.

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♡ CHAN 찬

let’s face it. daddy bang needs a break from all that business, and all the feral barking directed at him. cozy chris has some major needs, too — and, as you found out early on into your relationship — they are all of a gentle nature.

he can’t foster seven mischievous kids, produce all night, look that buff, talk his ass off on lives and during interviews, be a fitness/sports king, the wisest person on earth, make beats nonstop, and then also play the big bad wolf in the bedroom with you as well. that just doesn’t work.

this mf would probably burn out at some point.

hyung life is just so damn hard. and take it from me, dom life kinda is, too. it’s about coordination alike. someone dominant has a huge portion of responsibility when it comes to knowledge, to handling props, protocol, safe sane consensual, and tying everything back into the rest of the relationship. we gotta look after ourselves but also keep our minds clear about the when and how and why. chan does that with stray kids as a leading figure, he knows how it works with several people. bangchan is charming incarnate, and he can demand something.

the question is, would chris go the extra miles of extra miles of all extra miles to be the absolute boss of his girlfriend for reasons of kink? sure, he’d do anything for her. no question. he is prone to sacrifice. but in practice: the ole man would break his own back yanking a whip at someone. what he could use is some hugs instead. like proactive ones, where he doesn’t have to chase. that gives him such a fuzzy feeling inside. when someone goes out of their way to put in the work. he already shoulders a lot professionally, so a responsible dom in his private life makes for a surprisingly perfect match. he’s a libra... any circumstance needs to be tipped into a needed equilibrium. chan at home has to be the glaring opposite of chan at work for things to feel even to him.

even more real talk. how would he even sound intimidating with that much aussie dripping from his pronunciation. oi, how we feelin’ with yer buttplug, buddy?

...give me a break. and him. especially him. he needs it.

the guy would be out there... apologizing for every little thing. dominant chan is just not on god’s menu for humankind y’all. he’s already overworked all day and night, where would he even draw the energy from to properly spank anybody. the guy people think wants to called sir will `yeah ma’am´ his girlfriend by sheer `accident´.

which means? pillow prince chris — here we come.

although he can be easygoing, chan has a tendency to overthink subbing just like he overthinks everything else, but it also makes him neither reckless nor overly reliant. which is a good thing.

then again, he has something so authentic about him (i mean come on, that dimpled baby smile), he’ll always do well.

he’s a talented submissive physically. sensual and good-looking in all positions and blindfolds. not to mention that it’s so relaxing to toy with his curls between your fingers after sex.

guess who will worship his domme. that’s right, the one who knows the value and strain of leadership himself the very most.

chan, no matter how awkward he thinks he is, always says the right words of appreciation at the right time. not to mention that his voice has such a comfortable tone to it. he tells you in what ways he thinks you always do a good job with him, and how attractive you are in his loving eyes. call him a cheeseball, but that’s bang chan for you.

he doesn’t like hierarchy as much as people would believe. he prefers organization over social stratum. chan is trying hard to be a good feminist which naturally entails putting on crop tops in your presence. but seriously now. he could ‚awh, my good girl‘ you technically and be decent (because what can’t he do), but submissive channie is just the more interesting variety of chris’ sexy alter egos.

is the `reading yourself into the topic’ kinda guy. instead of leaving the verbal input to you, he takes that task off your shoulders and consults his PC instead. god, the blogs he’ll land on.

you have to remind him it’s not workload, it’s leisure. nevertheless, you credit him for being responsible and intellectual about it. that way, you can advance pretty easily with discovering new kinks.

despite his vast research, chan is easily shocked by things that are considered more extreme. he’d be like oh my god... sounding?! chan makes for a better soft than hard sub, even if there are exceptions for some toys and techniques you would use on him.

casual domination in his studio? you biting his neck while riding his thighs? why not. lee know, who delivers random take-out into the room at one point since chan forgot to eat dinner, is totally unimpressed nor fazed at all. having sex? nothing special. who cares. here’s your pizza. extra funghi and cheese. seconds later, he took off again.

chan is shaken by your composure, and lee know’s, and will totally lock the door next time, or put a sticky note on there. which the members do respect, but they really don’t make a big deal about you fucking at his place. hell, they hear hyunjin moan all day.

talk about others watching. chan dreams of several doms running a train on him and pulling out the peak degradation scenarios, but he’s too afraid to try an actual #wolfgangbang.

in many regards, he’s similar to felix in his sexual fantasies, although they are much more `orderly´ if that makes sense. people are set in their ways, adhere to their roles, do their thing in a prescribed way. it’s all very lawful good. chan sticks to letting that fantasy be a fantasy, however, knowing he’s all very new to this.

all in all: chan is a gentlemanly new school sub. man, i’m not sorry, i’m dirty… that was a lie. he’s pretty clean. compare him with hyunjin’s chaos-causing aura and you know what i mean.

and besides his tidiness, he’s also a good pillow talker, which you treasure. god, this man is so loveable.

chan should really be the one receiving a big protective bear hug for a change. chris protects everyone, but who protects chris!

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♡ SEUNGMIN 승민

a wise choice of sub, my friend. you have picked well.

seungmin lived the subby life before it was cool, and will live the subby life after it was cool. period.

at this point, seungmin might as well be called submin. should be his whole second name.

no gimmicks and trendy shit to be expected here. he has his own established philosophy that he wants to share with you.

and he’s a stamina monster, you wouldn’t believe it. he really doesn’t get exhausted easily, nor does he shy away from the more demanding set-ups that an advanced dominant would come up with. expert-level shibari and the like, knife play and the like. medical play, even.

his body is ready.

seungmin might be a humorous guy, but he takes subbing seriously. especially because he’s no longer a beginner and wants to pick up some final touches during the training you lay out for him. that requires focus.

the one true closet freak. uh-oh. no matter how good you are at reading people, you could not have possibly fathomed how far he was willing to go when you first met.

it took some time until you realized okay, he really wants to step it up a notch. his requests seem innocent enough in his tone of voice, because seungmin can make anything sound innocent, but wow... the degree of humiliation he can brace himself for is pretty intense. pretty daring for a puppy i reckon.

breaking news: someone might have a corruption kink.

you got yourself one of the most courageous subs right there. people who want to top seungmin aren’t exactly touchy-feely either. they surely have a strict, punitive, ice-cold side with a stinging wit — which he enjoys the most in a dominant.

he wants to be put in his deserved place. he wants to be pushed and pushed and pushed some more until his dirty mouth no longer grants him the upper hand. this whole process... might involve some candle wax.

he wants that fatigue, and see you smug because he’s been subdued after all. that’s pretty gratifying. he for sure does not need a service top. he needs somebody to tread all over him, call him names, and leave him drooling like a filthy little thing.

human furniture everyone? he’ll be your seat, your table, whatever your mood says. you can sit on him until he no longer begs.

training him merely means bringing him from a high level to the highest level. he’s either a natural about certain kinks or doesn’t need to be taught at all, he’s already pulling it off. less effort needed on your side, you’re grateful he’s being such a pro.

seungmin is definitely a rational thinker about improving himself as a submissive, which is most certainly a rare find.

but the emotional side... let me tell you a secret. you think han and changbin yell their soul out… oh no. should you demand it of him, seungmin is the screamer. like real authentic organic stuff going on, that makes you feel it in your bones. any sadist attracted to stray kids should immediately turn to seungmin. he’s no coward. seungmin is the final boss of letting it out. five stars.

you wish people would see his potential, but you also want to keep his kinky side to yourself. gatekeeping your pup, are you. good for you.

takes orders with flying colors, he is excellent. he’s very trusting but also doesn’t switch his brain off. that makes him a near-perfect play partner.

has about the smoothest moans you can think of. his vocal talent absolutely translates to hitting it off in the sheets… and the improvised home dungeon.

of course you have one. how could you not. it’s filled with all kinds of fetish collections and risqué polaroids that should never make it out of that room.

he likes spending lots of time there to say the least. as a couple, that room is your dirty secret and you’re proud of it.

and he’s surely the guy you wanna put to the test there. seungmin flinching? hardly ever. he’s unafraid, with many eccentric soft limits to try out. definitely not your regular sub is what i wanna say. that’s what it boils down to.

and to be certain we’re mentioning this. do we really have to establish the fact that he’d be into puppy play? no? okay, figures. put those ears on him already. scratch that, glue them onto seungmin permanently or something.

and let’s face it, which animal is more suitable and in need to be trained than a cute little puppy dog? he can let go and start from zero, that’s why he loves it. seungmin on a leash is just an amazingly pretty sight, it needs to be photographed.

in terms of more hidden talents, he’s the god of doing everything extra slow. which is not easy at all. seungmin has remarkable self- and body control in bed.

slow licks, slow back arch, slow tears, slow everything. he cries pretty silently from pleasure or pain, but it makes for a wonderful sight always. i’m telling you, seungmin is something else.

a delicacy for every domme who’s into proper dacryphilia. how can someone cry this beautifully, like an antique painting.

long story short. he is not to be underestimated, nor does he have to be trained by any means unless it’s just play-pretend.

roleplay is definitely high up on his bucket list, by the way. he looks sexy in all kinds of costumes.

and handcuffs. uh-huh.

seungmin’s softer sub side is balm for the soul, too. he likes his praise especially, guy’s so sensitive to it. and he will crawl on the ground to fulfill your every wish, tell him to bring you a plate with cake and there he goes, you get any delicacy you want.

yes, yes. he appreciates getting his smooches. and head pats. he can really go far with the rougher kinks, but don’t you ever think he doesn’t.

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♡ HAN 한

seriously. who doesn’t want jisung whimpering for mercy in their ear?

this guy is literally perfect to train. where he has the question, you got an answer. when he is curious, you can show him something. when he has an idea, you have a way to implement it. when he could use a hint, you have one ready.

on top of that: jisung has a propensity of admiring his girlfriend a lot, so... you can see where this is going. i’m not saying it’s a dynamic of worship but that’s exactly what i’m saying.

because han is very much afraid that it will be one-sided or he will look utterly desperate, or stupid even, he held back on it until he realized that you have no problem with him holding onto your every word. why’d you not like han being dumbstruck by you. you enjoy the amount of respect behind that.

and that feeling of jisung being struck by cupid’s arrow so hard, it’s utterly cute how he acts when he’s in love.

the thing is, whatever he does, he can’t hide it anyway. han projects everything outward, he’d have to really get his head in the game to hide how he wants to relate to you.

it’s clear he wants to submit, though he doesn’t exactly know how, he can’t name it, his cluelessness makes him rely on you more than most of the other members would, although he’s similar to felix and chan. and, covertly, lee know, who also sticks like glue so to speak, jisung has the same type of ‘hooked on you like velcro’ personality.

han, often the confused and worried type, really needs the clearest instructions of them all. orders, direction, highly engaged leadership. which sounds more difficult than it really is.

once he’s begging to show you how to put the full body harness on properly, you’re already deeply immersed. still, you ask him just to be very certain two times, does he want to do this for real, is he bracing himself enough. you are sure, and you want him to be sure.

come to think of it, 3racha might actually be the members most nervous to submit, becoming suddenly talkative and overly observant. they’re familiar with presenting themselves as larger-than-life personalities with a lot of grit and coolness, so taking that leap won’t come to them as naturally as for members like seungmin or felix.

not that subs can’t be cool and gritty, lee know is the walking example. and hyunjin remains a larger-than-life personality even when he subs. but 3racha has more of a dominant image imprinted on them for being so extremely buff and hip-hop based, with faces and voices and skills that scream ‚top of their game‘.

however, you can watch that beefcake crumble once the handcuffs are on and the bamboo cane comes out.

for those who don’t know: canes are typically the kinds of impact tools that come with the most vicious sting. they’re slender and flexible, hence they really dig themselves into those thighs and booty, all without causing a cut. while most whips look far more terrifying, they’re not as high up on the pain scale. sure, they’re not paddles, but you get the gist. canes are sort of the non plus ultra.

if you use bamboo to discipline a sub, they’ve been a really bad boy. which might just happen with… not jisung.

he’s lovely to you anyway, what are we even saying. hannie is the goodest bestest sweetest loveliest submissive. that’s right. i hope you didn’t hear it here first, but yes.

in fact, anticipate him being shy and restrained. though he can be all over the place, han is a polite sub.

he’s not that much of a forward character like hyunjin throwing himself into a hug, or seungmin saying which way he wants to be spanked up front.

han will actually be unsure what to do, but that might be connected to his character in general. in order for him not to get lost kind of `spiritually´ and physically, you have to guide his hands and mind alike.

if it’s too much for him, you have to make sure not to speed up the learning process like it would be appropriate for say, lee know. han is a different breed here, repetition is key.

it’s better if his dom doesn’t hold his need for slow memorizing against him, he doesn’t do it to be deliberately bratty or anything.

he wants to be trained in seriousness and see how it’s done properly two or three times rather than just once. he enjoys the quality time that comes with it, that’s important to him as well.

talk about restraints: if your darkest fantasy involves tying jisung to your bed from all directions and going full sensory deprivation, only to tease the shit out of him so he’ll go nuts: you’ve come to the right place. jisung is thoroughly fascinated by constructions like that, the whole tools and toys and trivia of it. he’ll also be down for some more provocative positions you’ll tie him into. no problem.

reaction king number one. so, that’s satisfying.

you don’t have to give it to him raw to get noise out of him.

the poor ass neighbors, though. this needs some precautions. as with changbin: a gag will work some miracles to tame him: or any type of dildo will do, his throat will become really flexible and unhinged with practice. just imagine those wide eyes and teary sobs. top tier shit. han is a hidden deepthroat legend.

you’ve never heard screams and moans as varied as his. every day he comes up with something new. honestly, how does he do it. from “ah, ah, please, ah” to loud frickin’ “spank me harder!” screams.

han will never fail to tell you how good it is, and he’s not demanding of ‘great sex’. he evaluates things according to how stimulating a scene is emotionally rather than physically. where hyunjin would do both or felix would look at how comfortable (and amicable, you know him) it is, han begs to differ and makes the atmosphere priority. even awkwardness is something to go off of, and silly mistakes. not severe ones obviously, but you get the gist: anything happening is something happening! han just likes the eventfulness of it. it’s actually precious. he doesn’t make a big deal out of it when you have an insecure day or don’t feel 100% confident about some technique.

as long as there is any activity, han will be energized by it. although he can be high maintenance sometimes, he’s very easy to please and a rewarding, easy sub, somebody who won’t judge you as harshly as he would clock his members for acting shady. and to be fair, you’re certainly not as scheming as jeongin to say the very least, he cannot be surpassed. so, han wouldn’t even have a reason to call you out for something, even when you prank him harmlessly. again: all fun is good fun, as long as the fun is present!

han is most definitely a dark horse as a sub, but it’s no wonder he likes to please his partner very much.

jisung might come off as a jokester who doesn’t want to get too close, but just you wait until you put some candles on, some music on, and you take a bath together.

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♡ CHANGBIN 창빈

since sub changbin is a world on his own, i think it’s time to give an analogy.

leo might be the king among the zodiac, loud and roaring. imposing, even, bursting with physicality and their very own brand of authority. this animal is very hard to challenge, in fact. compared to other inhabitants of the desert, a mighty lion among its pack is often recognized first despite its laid-back way of moving, and the way it takes its status and power as a given.

but at the end of the day? a lion still belongs to the family of felines and has the cuteness instinct of any cat. no lion goes without affection of his loved ones, nor does he move a singular paw to get something done sometimes. although agile, other animals are much more direct in their brutality, speed, and the way they claim territory. lions are actually chill most of the time, what makes others fear them is merely size and volume rather than real voluntary attacking power. lions only get going when they really have to since their stamina is low, and most of their standing rather depends on pride and need for attention than active domineering all day.

lions would rather stroll, sit, munch, and have their mane stroked than wander around in the heat to get some heat. when shit hits the fan, one lion always need the help of others. you won’t see a lion fighting on his own, while a single gorilla could absolutely clobber him in jungle dense enough. in other words: lions are overestimated in their power. they’re more relaxed than you think. they’re snoozing cats, but slightly bigger. well... changbin is pretty similar. he unleashes his entire grind within the group, but as a partner it’s a whole different game.

soon as you cup his cheeks palm in palm, it’s over. he just melts away. like c’mon. as if he’s gonna say nooo i’ll switch back immediately! ain’t gonna happen.

he’s the guy who acts so big and bold, but the little voice in him tells changbin hey… let her take some care of you there for good measure. so to speak — he doesn’t have to be the one on the steering wheel. changbin is kind of running into a mental conflict though, because he’s not as experienced with dating.

he doesn’t want to burden his girlfriend either by being overbearing or acting overly needy. you tell him, chances are, at home he’ll be neither. there’s no camera rolling and no expectation. and you give him attention whenever, it’s not like he has to plead for it. “be natural” and trusting his gut sounds like an utterly lame pinterest board advice, but it’s the gist.

it’s something new to him, and peanuts to you. at the beginning, it’s all about bridging that gap.

what’s easier than patting changbin’s hair and telling him how cute he is, though? biting into an apple or something.

which is also the topic of your relationship since you go a little pervy sometimes and bite his ass. you know, as a treat.

the binbooty is a jiggly mystery on its own and deserves to be explored. be honest, you grab it to release stress like it’s your religion. damn, it’s really soft and comforting indeed. bless his ass.

and while we’re talking soft things versus hard stuff.

sure, you could go like yeah… hate sex… let’s yell at each other.

but hey, thinking outside the box? you have lots of fun turning things upside down by having him bite down on a rope gag. what unusual silence. this probably wouldn’t work on a sub like hyunjin, he’d only whine even more, but changbin is pretty consistent.

but we’re getting ahead of ourselves.

he’s rather romantic, very sensitive in front of his partner. changbin respects them for topping him very expertly and reliably. he’s impressed by her knowledge and skills if she’s in the game for longer, or wowed by her dare if she’s new to it.

as for himself, changbin thinks he’ll still have to catch up. where other people in the rapper scene would have to catch up with him, your boyfriend feels the need to sit down in seriousness and research what that bdsm stuff is all about. that’s all a whole new world for him, you know. his epiphany being, this works like this, and that works like that.

often clumsy in bondage, but you make up for it by coaching him through the whole thing. changbin gets confused which rope end goes where, and how to unfasten the entire construction properly if need be, so you take some time studying it rather than just jumping the gun. he’s more involved than you think, changbin wouldn’t like being an all-too passive sub.

and if we’re talking masochism. he can take less than you think, so you gotta work him into it. unlike with seungmin, you can’t just crank out a whip or paddles and go ahead. changbin is a very step-by-step submissive. next to a good relaxing bath, reassurance is his best friend.

this is exciting: he’s totally into fetish wear from the very beginning. that’s where his zone of confidence is. bdsm fashion on such a built guy, let’s go, man. i mean, who wouldn’t say somebody like felix looks great in harnesses. or seungmin. but with changbin, you know... he has a kind of silhouette and natural fashion sense that makes it easy to dress him sexily, with a lot of skin reveals.

changbin without his gear is like stray kids without chan: the essential thing would be missing. i know, the whole group — stray kids? more like latex men — already looks like they’re about to bust it open for a strapped-out dominatrix, but changbin takes it to the next level.

harnesses in all shapes and variations are neatly stacked and hung right in his closet for the world to see. he doesn’t care. changbin is the primordial bdsm fashionista. what can’t he pull off?

in fact, he’s the type to accompany you to an actual bdsm party, you know, to be shown off. he might even make a name for himself in the community, he definitely rolls that way.

that this aegyo and rap machine on two legs can make jay z look boring and he’s got an aggressive voice doesn’t disqualify him from subbing well. changbin’s soft and adorable side is well-documented. he’s gonna be a good boy and massage you how you want it. unlike that bitchy lil’ tease jeongin, he actually deserves resting on your lap without first earning it, and humming to himself, if you’re not the one doing it.

him being chronically honest makes it easier to grow and improve. if the knot is too tight, he’ll let you know. if it’s too loose, same thing. changbin would both be entertaining and sexy to train. and adorable to tuck in with his stuffed animals.

read it on ao3

♡ JEONGIN 아이엔

who knew maknae on top could also bottom.

why? he’s long been spoiled from head to toe and sat on top of the world. this guy thinks everything belongs to him, huh. people throw it all in his direction. they are the metal, he is the magnet. hell, he claims the center of attention more than god, does he. enough is enough. men from busan in general have been an infestation of daringness for far too long. he got ‘em all under his spell with all that cuteness.

this boy needs to put some work into it and bow down in humility. the universe needs balance, my friends. his divine maknae powers and privileges need to be ripped away from him for once.

hence: training sub jeongin — and taking his virginity — is such a juicy topic.

it’s about time this pretty mf gets owned by his girlfriend. he knows he deserves his booty to be stepped on, face to the ground (... on a sufficiently fluffy carpet, this divine skin needs to be protected from any gravel, wood splinters, and concrete).

even in other circumstances, with enough punishment and reward, jeongin is the sort of sub that can most likely be found on the floor. he is down for you to bend him into any shape. forced to kneel, forced to crawl, made to kiss your feet. a leash most often helps to have him memorize the movements, and he has to get his head in the game. no disobedience: in theory.

you need to put him in the kitchen and have him bake. all your favorite stuff. every day. all while wearing the tightest apron in history. with a time limit set. maybe that will teach him not to beg you pleasing him here and there and everywhere. he’ll focus on a task and you watch on with hawk eyes. he needs to follow the recipe correctly, every bit of flour, every grain of sugar. you’re gonna make a whole service sub out of him.

never forget, although you already know: you’re dealing with the quintessential giggling brat. he’s trying to make you simp, he invented the term. he wants you like a puppet on his strings, ‘inspiring you´ to give him the supposed `heavy punishments´ he himself came up with.

sigh, he’s an aquarius. it’s to be expected. jeongin loves to mess with his top just to break their poker face. at the end of the day, that’s literally all this blushy boy wants.

fair enough.

maybe, um, you give that reward to him, only to be able to resume play without any further problems. if we’re honest: winking and smiling at your sub works wonders. because they love to know how much you enjoy being in charge, after all. and he delights in being flirted with. in obnoxious amounts, that is. jeongin could sit on your lap 23/7 without ever feeling the need to leave somewhere.

and jeongin is a black hole when it comes to your flirtation. he wants to take it all in, baby. and he wants to have a monopoly on getting your attention and smirky smirks. he can’t stand the idea of you ever looking at any other cute subs so he’ll make an effort to dress himself well. which definitely doesn’t go overlooked. he doesn’t even have to blink and he has his first time with you. this snack looks too good to be ignored, and you have a huge soft spot for him. out of one tentative time develops a constant stream of steamy date nights.

a highly affectionate and doting mistress sounds like it, but she also needs to train his consistency and rule-abiding at the same time. like seriously make him stick to a code of conduct.

and: she needs to be rough enough to kick him if he so desires and is confident to take it. training jeongin into some ballbusting madness? hell yeah. that’s his thing. a lot of people would not dare raise their foot, so: jeongin is on the lookout for tops who go the extra mile and tend not to hesitate.

spanking, mhh… that’s his favorite, though. he will bend it over and shake it for you like you’re about to make it rain on him, so let’s get this baby bread. jeongin often finds himself hunched across your lap, but also the edge of a bed or a chair. a kitchen counter if you’re nasty. or the backseat of a car.

jeongin has no problem with your butt fixation, he knows he looks good head to toe. he even thinks it’s cute how you crave him.

greedy boy. very. greedy. excessively craving. smiles through his punishments because you know he succeeded. which results in even more severe discipline. which makes jeongin smirk. which makes you go even harder on him. the list goes on. just like that, you’ll find yourself in hard domme territory faster than you think, without even noticing the transition. probably means it was supposed to be rougher bdsm in the first place.

mouth gags won’t do the trick. he’s not han, and he’s not changbin. jeongin is better tamed by a proper dose of chastity. the one that turns a please… please… into a please, please! tough luck for him, you go strict on your sweet honey boy. a little tickle to the thigh is all he’s getting. which makes jeongin extremely clingy to get his affection otherwise.

on the other hand, you can dress him up all pretty, jeongin is very welcoming when it comes to a change of wardrobe for personal playtime.

since he’ll watch his mouth at some point, cute jeongin takes over. his duality is just fascinating to a dom to watch.

put it on his tombstone… death by tiddies. annihilated, in fact. in jeongin's version of bdsm, cbt can mean both cock and ball torture or crushed by tiddies.

because you can’t spell suffocation without I and N. like what in the everloving hell makes jeongin crave breath play so much.

and if we’re talking physical affection by the way.

he’d only let someone this close if his heart was really, and i mean like really touched by them, like enamored. he’s very comfortable being a real maknae there.

you got yourself the prettiest baby and man, you’ll be happy with him. he keeps you on your toes, but he’s also a softie to hug and squeeze.

read it on ao3

♡ LEE KNOW 리노

saving the best for last, are we. handsome satan incarnate, a seemingly unbreakable guy. someone with several cats he can learn inscrutable hacks of badassery from. which might be his secret, or is he a rebel without a cause looking for somebody to drag his sassy demon ass out of hell? hmm... time to find out.

many a domme would absolutely not be able to crack this tsundere’s code to his heart (and how to make his eyes roll back in a way that’s not sarcastic). lee know is truly picky about who he’s gonna allow to dominate him. in fact, he’s this close to staging a talent show to find the one and only, like with actual critiques and rankings and shit. what the hell, though.

lee know is the excalibur of stray kids. you really have to be worthy to get through the stone-like exterior.

at first, he might even seem like a cruel top with a glare in his eyes. but once you’ve seen him in sub drop, you know what he’s up to. lee know is protecting his inner submissive like a dragon sitting on a pile of gold. he’ll only gift it to someone with a good character and some life experience.

it could be someone younger or older, though preferably, he needs a woman who has seen it all to match him. he’s very open to dating dommes who have been in the bdsm scene for a little longer than him. he’s been swiping himself through some promising suggestions, and he’s tried stuff, but... it needs something less casual at some point.

he’s grown too frustrated and confounded by his experimenting, and the nervousness is killing him every time meeting a new play partner. settling becomes more and more of a goal as time passes. he’ll look toward people who have more knowledge under their belt.

people would wonder why, but you gotta remember, this bun’s only 23. lino has more interest in being guided than his demeanor would suggest.

upon first meeting him, you suspect he’s had some bad experiences, but he’s secretive and shy by nature. it takes a while until he’s less closed off. it needs many a nickname and some heartfelt affection. especially feeding him with snacks or kissing his lashes. which are wonderful by the way, he’s actually like a doe rather than a cat.

lee know finds it challenging to talk about any deep traumas, so an open ear and empty shoulder to lean on are very much appreciated. that his domme isn’t the judgy type is pretty important to him.

a feeling of being in safe hands, that’s his priority. he wants to look up to you. and feel like he can really pour himself into that relationship, that every meeting is really precious.

let’s be honest. minho’s brand of cuteness hits different. even when he’s grumpy, it’s effortless. when you put your big scarf around him and only his eyes are visible, he’s the most adorable lil’ muffin.

and now listen. for those who think he makes a better top. this lying cheating girlbossing ass should never be allowed anywhere near a shelf of spreader bars and a latex gimp. okay? okay. lee know gotta learn some manners, predictability, and patience for his domme to apply those things on him. a huge part of sub training with lino actually means making him wait. that one breaks even the craziest brats. you gotta know how to play with your sub’s intensity of desire.

his opinion is this. lee know can’t be bothered to do endless discussions about how to stage a scene. he doesn’t want it to be a performance of sexiness like hyunjin, or a wholesome snugglefest like felix, but a more spontaneous power exchange. no more strict protocols, although safety is never out the window of course. but more like... just living in the moment. what does that tell you, though? again, he really already has had a lot of sexual encounters of the bdsm kind. lee know has met a lot of different dominants and characters to see what he’s dealing with. at one point, yes, he saw a new person every week.

you need to be the type to respect his past and not worry that he’ll move on. you met on a different accord and during a different phase in his life. when he says it’ll only be one night, it’s gonna be like that. and if he says he wants to commit, he means it. you’ll be having great sex all the time and be really domestic.

ironically, pretty babe is totally laissez-faire about the whole thing. maybe he’s subbing out of spite, that’s what you suspect. you’re like what, is he trying to flex? reality is, lino developed a lot of resolve. it’s not just for tops, okay. subs can have their share of swag. to a certain degree. you gotta rein `em in there. especially lee know. but then, also: you gotta be aware that he might not have the much more subtle esteem or confidence in relationships that is more read between the lines. you gotta be the one being his rock.

once you really got under his skin, he surprises you with very passionate masochistic noises just when you thought he couldn’t act any more indifferent about the latest kinky stuff you wanted to try. at the end of the day, he’s not as bitchy and tough as he pretends to be: lee know is a sensitive hoe at heart.

lino doesn’t really care about 100% categorizing himself according to bdsm mores. at the beginning, you think okay, he’s a bit of a lawless one, but he has a certain kind of logic behind that. minho has no fixed preference for what type of sub he is, and limiting himself for the future does not make a lot of sense to him. he knows his states of mind are always changing, and he can grow into some forms of intimacy he doubted before. think seungmin’s versatility, but times two.

lee know experiments, he has strong moods going into either direction, soft and hard and also vanilla. one time he just wants gentle femdom, the other you’ll find him down for putting on the cat ears and getting railed into a wall like there’s no tomorrow. he will keep his teeth clenched and enjoy the ride.

face it: your boy is a full-on scorpio. he’ll only feel truly alive when he’s eating ass and getting fucked hard into a witless delirium, and when you hurt him. he’s not afraid of some nails digging into his tender skin, or getting roped up in a hogtie. the opposite is true. he’s not uneasy about pain.

just like seungmin, lee know hardly ever safewords. this is not about his pride or something — it’s just not necessary. it’s gonna surprise you how comfortable he is with the most varied kinks. to begin with, he doesn’t have as many hard limits as the other members. he also tends to have outstanding endurance. he hikes a lot with you, dances diligently, and masturbates pretty frequently. that definitely builds up to something.

he’s very much into you pinning him anywhere, kitty loves the challenge of a good kabedon. it’s the first bold move, what’s he gonna do? be shy or kiss back? it’s an adventure every time.

often, he’s simply offering his body for you to do what you want. „you can like fistfight god or just take it out on me“ is an all-time favorite shitpost sentence you’ll hear from him.

needs a top who always has the right clapback. lee know can only be trained properly if his domme is verbally quick to the heavens.

she also needs to have a propensity to physically overpower him to keep that dynamic going. this bae enjoys the struggle of having his wrists grabbed, to get pushed down onto a bed, to be carried around, to be choked out with good technique, to get sandwiched by thighs, to be sat on so he can’t move, to be flipped around when needed, to be womanhandled completely. he gets pretty excited when someone is rough in their grip. if his domme is working out, she already understands what he’s all about.

crazy thing he’s doing some „yay opposite time“ on some days. lee know becomes very cozy and doesn’t want to leave your side at all. no more brutality, he just yearns for eye contact.

you will not know how much lee know is rooting for you, with one big crush that is, until you run into your ex-sub at a house party. since said guy is making you so uncomfortable and a leveled approach just won’t do, minho’s inner lucifer resorts to flaming your ex with vicious cutting words about how undeserving he evidently is. like, this is getting sinister.

once the altercation comes to who has the better face card, minho can do anything but lose. you know your tastes, and you know you upgraded. before they battle out who has the best pain tolerance, the host of the party, rosé, sends your ex flying into the pool. if anything, lee know’s true colors have been showing through his loyalty. he was ready to like, go until the break of dawn in that debate. he’s still disgruntled about the guy harassing you months later.

like damn, he’ll stress-eat and be glued to you for weeks. he can’t stop hugging you in his sleep.

yup, what an edgy guy. but then again… watch how much effort this beauty puts into cooking for you, like double the amount of care. tells you a lot. minho really loves you, man.

read it on ao3

for more: sub!idols m.list ♡

sub!skz orgasm faces/bondage scenario | sub!hyunjin oneshot | sub!felix oneshot

💕 likes, rbs, comments v much appreciated let’s talk 💕

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magicalbats · 6 months

Text

Kinktober Day 16: Public

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 6763

Warnings: Afab!reader, a few sprinklings of gendered language, public sex, exhibitionism, vaginal fingering, piv sex, creampie, talk of cum eating

A/N: Heizou is actually one of my faves btw 🥴 I haven’t acted right since he called us dreamy in his hangout xmdkxkdnd I’m so sorry

⭐

The streets are jam packed with milling bodies and temporarily erected stalls hocking various wares, foods and trinkets from one end of the city to the next. Most everyone had gotten dressed up to some degree, many of the girls wearing their best summer kimonos and the men donning fancy outer coats of their own to mark the festivities. Even those that couldn’t afford to buy nice clothes managed to splurge on masks carved to look like any number of creature, from the real to the imagined, or on festival headbands knotted at the back of their head in big, woven bows.

It had been a long, long time since you last saw Inazuma looking so lively and full of such simple joy. A hope for the future that its people hadn’t had not all that long ago. It was the first fall festival celebrating the changing of seasons since both the unjust Vision hunt decree and the equally tyrannical Sakoku decree were abolished, and the excitement in the air was very nearly palpable. Like the newly granted freedom to simply live again had stirred the love and passion everyone held for the world, and it was exceptionally hard not to find yourself swept up in it too.

Smiling over at Heizou as the two of you make your way down the crowded road together, hand in hand, you try very hard not to let the bubbling thrill of it all show on your face. Not because it was something to hide from him or anything to be ashamed of, but because you simply didn’t know what to do with all this vibrating energy making you feel like an ignited firework just waiting for the fuse to run out so you could shoot off into the sky and join the stars there. You’d never experienced anything quite like it before, at least not to this extent.

But, to your relief, Heizou seems to be in the same boat and he gives your fingers a tight squeeze to accompany the big, boyish grin he fixes you with in return. “Having a good time I take it?”

“The best.”

And that wasn’t an understatement. He’d gotten off work a few hours ago, late in the afternoon, and you’d spent every minute together since, just slowly making your way through the festival at your own pace and checking everything out. It was well past dark now, and so far he’d won you a water balloon yo-yo at a fishing game stall, bested you in a match of ping pong (no surprise to you there), sampled different flavors of sake that were being offered by restaurant vendors, eaten taiyaki and cotton candy, tried your hand at shooting pellets from a toy gun just to receive a consolation prize in the form of a solitary tissue packet, and you’d even walked out to the shrine offering box located in the city to make wishes for the future. It was the most fun you’d had in a long while, and getting to do it all with him just made everything so much better.

Honestly, you didn’t want this night to ever end.

“What should we do next?” He wonders aloud, sparkling green eyes eagerly scanning the newest stretch of road you’d wandered into. You do the same, thinking on his question, but he abruptly gives your hand an excitable jolt before you can reach a decision. “Oh! Look, look! There’s a mask stall!”

Just like that, he’s pulling you in the direction of the stand where you spend a long time deliberating over which to choose from when so many of them had their appeal. True to nature, Heizou teases your taste and playfully tries to psychoanalyze your reasoning behind picking out what you do but you stand firm even in the face of his sly little smiles. You wanted the woodcut cat face with its bold, blocky color scheme. He then picked out a white fox mask for himself, much quicker and with far less agonizing over the decision than you had. Both of you don your new trinkets — yours at a slanted angle on your head to keep your face uncovered while Heizou ties his to the belt at his waist — and the two of you are soon off again.

“I’m really glad you were able to come with me today.” You tell him softly under the constant murmur of the bustling crowd, for his ears only. Like a closely guarded secret between you and your lover.

“Hey, me too. I wasn’t going to miss it if I could help it. And y’know,” His smile takes on a mischievous edge as he sidles closer to lightly bump your hip with his. “You look so nice tonight it’s a wonder I can even keep my hands off you right now. I hope you know you’ll be in for a real treat when we get home later.”

Giggling, you pin him with a playfully wry look. “Oh? Are you sure you can wait that long, mister detective?”

The new gleam in his eyes tells you he’s strongly considering taking on that challenge, and it makes your blood pump a little faster. “I’m not so sure about that,” He murmurs with a slow, easy drawl. “Do you think you can?”

You quickly bring your sleeve up to hide the lower half of your face and avert your gaze elsewhere. Of course he would see the change in your expression and recognize it for what it was. Heizou was nothing if not astute and his mastery of body language made him just as dangerous to play these sorts of games with now as he’d been the first day you met him. A rascal, that’s what he was.

“We’ll have to. Even if we wanted to rent a room for an hour or two you know as well as I do that there won’t be any available during the festival.”

Humming a soft, knowing tune, Heizou tugs on your hand to pull you in against his side. The firm press of unwavering muscle mass against you just makes your heart beat even quicker, and your cheeks start to grow warm with the first curling tendril of desire. Whatever he may have lacked in overall height was more than made up for in his physical strength and you were regrettably weak for it. Something else that hadn’t changed much at all in the time you’d known him.

“I’m sure we could find a relatively private place somewhere nearby,” He tells you, blunt thumb caressing circles over your knuckle as if to further entice you. “And my intuition tells me you’re much more keen on the idea than you want to let on right now so … what do you say? I'd be lying if I said talking like this doesn’t have me a little excited. It’s the same for you, right?”

You steal a quick, surreptitious glance at the front of his pants but the hakama are too loose fitted for you to make out much of anything that might be amiss. That doesn’t stop you from picturing it in your head though, familiar enough with how he looked naked and hard with arousal to see it right then and there in your mind's eye, and even more heat quickly crawls up your face to settle there. It was shameful and embarrassing in equal measure but you did indeed want him. Now, not later. But … but —

“Is that really okay? If we get caught you might get into trouble. What if you can’t be a Doushin anymore?”

Heizou’s expression softens, his affection for you visibly warming his face like the first rays of morning light cresting over the horizon. “Don’t worry. I won’t let us get caught. If I’m being honest I don’t really care all that much about my job title anyway, but I’m the only one lucky enough to get the privilege of seeing you turned into a mess …”

Pausing there on the street, he leans close to press his mouth against yours in what would have been an altogether chaste kiss if your loins hadn’t already been curling at the thought of having him. Instead the slow, coaxing pull of his lips seems to pluck at your growing need, pulling you into his pace with a stilted sigh, and you gradually find yourself leaning further into him. The height difference between you is not so great that you even have to tip your head back to look at him when he pulls back a few moments later, the silent exchange heated with static energy for as short as it lasts.

Then, he pulls on your hand again. “Come on. I have a place in mind.”

You follow him, excited and jittery with nerves, off the main road and down a series of small side streets until you finally end up in a cramped little alley. Down to the end where the lip opens up to a picture perfect view of the ocean stretching endlessly into the distance. This is where he stops and turns to you, his hands already coming up to take possessive hold of your hips, but you startle instead.

“Here?” You gasp, wide eyed with genuine surprise. You’d expected something a bit more out of the way, something more hidden and isolated, not just on the edge of another busy street where anyone could wander by.

Laughing, he drags you against him to press your front flush to his, and you stiffen at the shudder that tears through you when you feel the pointed nudge of his cock against your stomach. He really was ready to have you, here and now. And not a moment later.

“Relax. Most everyone will be headed further up the island to watch the fireworks at this time of night which means there shouldn’t be too many stragglers left. This is on the opposite side, away from the best viewing spots, so we’ll be fine.”

You understood his reasoning. Couldn’t exactly find fault in it either, but that didn’t do much to quell your nervous anxiety on the matter. “But what if someone does come by? Public indecency is still a thing, Heizou! Shouldn’t we find a better place?”

Giving your hips a reassuring squeeze, he drags his broad palms up your sides to leave wrinkles in your kimono where he’d rucked it slightly. “Don’t worry so much, sweetheart. I’ve got you. Just trust me, okay?”

You draw a breath to volley back with but it gets caught in your throat when his thumbs smooth over your chest in such a slow, stilted pass you feel it in high definition even through your clothes. Abruptly forgetting what you were going to say, you slowly glance down at yourself to watch him knead at your chest and a low whine promptly tumbles out of your mouth. You wanted him to keep touching you like that, you were dully horrified to realize.

No, you didn’t just want it. You needed it.

Your pussy was already becoming wet for him as if the taboo of this, the thrill of having him grope at you in public was making the sensation even more potent than it otherwise would have been behind closed doors. You could feel it all in startling clarity, how blocky and masculine his fingers feel squeezing around your ribcage. The slow curling of your nipples to leave them stiff and seeking under the thin layer of cotton separating you from him. The way he looks at you, how he draws a deep inhale as if to breathe you in. The not so subtle nudge of his cock twitching against your lower belly …

Archons, even if you’d wanted to put your foot down about finding another spot you really didn’t think you could wait that long.

“Heizou,” You say his name like a prayer, an oath, as you bring your hands up to brace them along his muscular shoulders. “I trust you.”

Green eyes glimmering even under the shroud of night, he leans in to put his face close to yours. “That’s my girl.”

Your lips meet again, with urgency this time. He kisses you like he’s hungry, a starving man finally finding his salvation in a barren wasteland, and you gladly allow yourself to get swept up in it. Your own need doubles and then triples, making you press your body more tightly to his in a desperation that is as sudden as it is powerful. His silky soft hair brushes your cheek and your nose when he tilts his head to deepen the exchange, kissing you deeply now as his hands shift forward to center over your breasts so he can squeeze them in his palms. A soft, shuddering sigh rises in you at the sensation and you let it out against his mouth when he tugs at the top of your kimono.

Slowly, the fabric starts to loosen around your shoulders, falling open in the front to expose your flushed, heated skin to the cool night air. It was still early into fall and yet warm enough not to need a jacket, but you were so close to the ocean now that the breeze coming in off the crashing waves below carries with it a chill. It has you trembling slightly, eagerly seeking out the always stifling warmth of his body, but it is an inner heat that starts to make you feel like you’re burning up. It stokes inside you with each demanding press of his full lips, every single brush of roughened fingertips on your body, and even the ever present threat of getting caught is not enough to truly smother it.

Finally pulling away when the need for air becomes much too great, you send a quick look over his shoulder to glance out at the street. You were still jittery with nerves even though no one had walked by since you’d gotten here but it just seemed to further emphasize how very turned on you were to be doing something like this with him. It was arguably wrong to have sex in a public space — there were laws prohibiting it for a reason — but any concern over it seems to be the farthest thing from his mind right now.

Bending his head close, Heizou latches onto your neck and kisses deeply at your thundering pulse at the same time he reaches back to grab tight, pinching handfuls of your ass, very nearly hauling you up against him. Your head lolls back when he grinds his hips forward, digging his stiff cock into your belly, but he doesn’t lift you. He could, all too easily. Had done it many times in the past and you’d half expected him to take you like that, against the wall, with your legs wrapped around his narrow waist. Instead, he merely rucks up the length of your kimono until you eventually feel a waft of cold air on your bare backside, and you give a tiny little jolt of surprise.

“Heizou!” You hiss, reaching back with one hand to grip his wrist. He remains undeterred though, mouthing at your throat even while he almost idly tucks your kimono up around your waist as if you weren’t even clutching his arm so fiercely the knuckles ache in protest. Yelping softly, you twist in his hold to send a wide eyed look down the opposite end of the alley, frantically searching for any signs of other people. “Someone is going to see! I - I don’t have anything on underneath!”

“I know.” He practically growls against your neck, sliding both hands back down to cup the bare swell of your ass now. The kneading pinch he applies to the skin sends you to the tips of your toes and you waver unsteadily in your dainty little sandals but he easily keeps you upright and balanced without much effort.

Giving the fleshy swell a rough, possessive jostle, he then slips one of his hands lower to dip between your thighs. The other slides forward, squeezing the meat of your hip along the way, and bullies it into the tight space to attack you from both ends. One set of calloused fingers finds your clit to rub firm, steady circles over the sensitive nub while the opposite digits press up into your slit to tease at your entrance from behind and draw more sticky slick out of you. Shuddering so hard your legs almost give right out from under you, you carefully shuffle them further apart to brace against the onslaught of sensation hitting you all at once. It was overwhelming and mind numbing at the same time but, still, you can’t quite stop yourself from fearfully glancing around.

It had been one thing when you thought he would just move your clothes out of the way and take you like that, with the important bits hidden out of sight from anyone that might happen to wander by. It wouldn’t have done much to actually conceal what you were doing but at least you would have some dignity left to you. He was practically undressing you right there on the street though, leaving you exposed and vulnerable to any curious onlookers, and you’re more than a little ashamed at how much that makes your cunt slick for him.

“Are you really sure we should be doing this here? This is so risky — aahn!”

One of his thick fingers sinking up into your body cuts off the nervous fretting that spills from your mouth, back bowing at the hot sear of penetration. Your pussy squeezes around the intrusion, tries to milk him dry, but he just sedately fucks into you even as he laughs, low and breathy, into the crook of your neck.

“It might be risky but gods, you’re enjoying this. You’re already this wet for me, baby. Can you hear yourself?”

Heizou pumps his finger a bit more quickly and you loose a faltering groan at both the delicious drag against your inner sleeve as much as the soft, sticky click that rises in the air. It seems to punctuate your labored breathing, highlighting just how frazzled and aroused you were in that moment, and you finally allow yourself a slow, stilted grind of your hips. His own excitement visibly increases as you fuck your cunt on his finger, moaning when he adds a second to the gripping heat of your body. Attentively, he watches the way you twitch at the increased stretch, pelvis stuttering over his hand before falling back into that stiff, rolling motion again.

“Not to state the obvious here,” He pants out, strained and thin. “But this just might be the hottest thing I’ve ever been lucky enough to experience. You look so beautiful like this, and all mine for the taking too ...”

You force your constricting lungs to expand with a tremulous breath while he nudges the top of your kimono further open with his nose to finally expose your breast. He has to bend at the knee to reach without the use of his hands, but he still manages to latch onto the stiffened bud and he suckles with great enthusiasm. Sliding your fingers up the back of his neck and into his hair, you clutch him to your chest and try not to cry out in pleasure even when every fiber of your being was screaming at you to do just that. Between his fingers pumping in and out of you, the others stroking your clit and now his hot, wet mouth on your teat, you felt like you were going to shatter into a million, fleeting pieces.

“Ooh, H - Heizou! Bless the electro archon, you’re going to make me cum!” You wheeze, legs trembling so hard his probing fingers felt like the only thing keeping you balanced anymore.

Humming a muffled, encouraging sound into the meat of your breast, he briefly opens his mouth just to latch on again, sucking your nipple straight towards the back of his throat now. The rhythmic suction on your chest paired with the steady pressure on your clit makes you go cross eyed, and they start to roll up into the back of your head as a powerful orgasm bears down on you. You can feel it in your tingling toes, straight up your shaking legs to settle hot and heavy in your pelvis. It has your juddering hips stumbling over the needy pace they’d settled into and you lurch against him, sucking in one ragged breath after another. The digits stuffed in your cunt work a little faster, harder. Your cotton stuffed head begins to spin at a truly dizzying rate, your entire body on fire and — and the coil snaps, so abruptly it sends you reeling in his hold.

Mouth dropping open on a high pitched, keening wail you just barely manage to keep hushed and soft, you quake through your release so violently Heizou has to shift and adjust the position of his feet to keep you from toppling right over. Luckily, though, he is sturdy and solid against you, and you’re free to spasm wildly even as you force your jaw to clench shut so you can seethe through your teeth instead of crying out.

You come down from it one little piece of you at a time some moments later, legs trembling like a newborn doe’s even when he carefully removes his sticky fingers from your cunt. The tremors were still so fresh in your mind that just the lingering waves now lapping at your consciousness causes you to sensitively twitch and groan low in your throat at the loss of him. You were floating somewhere far outside your body, intoxicated on the rush of endorphins and dopamine that blankets over your body to leave you warm and comfortable in the aftermath. And, still, you almost couldn’t believe you’d actually been able to cum like that in public …

Pulling up off your wet teat with a rumbling groan, Heizou finally straightens up to look at you. His strong hands squeeze at your hips and waist with wanting tugs that pull you right up against him, and you try very hard not to think about the sticky trail some of his fingers leave on your skin.

“I hope your post-climax clarity doesn’t make you change your mind about doing this,” He whispers into the scant space separating your mouth from his, those lovely, heavy lidded eyes fixated on your own. “Because I’m really not sure if I can wait until we get home to finish.”

He rolls his hips forward to nudge his cock into you for emphasis, and you smile at him. Grin, from ear to ear. “Of course I’m not going to do that to you.” Reaching up to brush some of those long forelocks back from his handsome face, you lower your tone to a sultry whisper. “How do you want me, Heizou?”

A weak, faltering sound puffs out of him to accompany the shudder that works through his body. Lashes fluttering in sensitive bliss, he closes the distance to kiss you again even as his hands maneuver you back against the wall. You think he’s going to finally pick you up like you’d initially thought he would but, to your surprise, when he disengages another moment later he just gently turns you around.

“Lean forward,” He murmurs, thick and quiet. “I want to look at your pussy while I’m fucking it.”

Your knees turn wobbly at that but you oblige, and slowly bend at the waist with your hands braced on the wall. Craning your neck back, you look at him with a small frown of uncertainty while he quickly works to unfasten the tie around his waist. “Are you sure about this? If someone comes by it’ll be pretty obvious what we’re doing …”

“Like it wasn’t before?” He snorts a quiet laugh that promptly morphs into a soft groan of relief when he gets his cock out. Biting down on his bottom lip, Heizou shuffles closer and places one palm on the swell of your hip while the other reaches between the two of you to guide himself in.

The nudge against your wet, puffy slit chases away your last remaining doubts and, turning back to face the wall, you issue a stuttering groan when he starts to sink in. Your guts are so soft and pliant that the glide is very nearly seamless, his thick length stretching you much more than his fingers had. But it was so incredibly satisfying on a bone deep level and you moan when your pussy eagerly spasms around him. Hungrily rearing back, you try to take him in quicker and the responding grunt from him rushes straight to your spinning head.

Panting again, you hang your head between your arms to peer down at yourself — at the shockingly erotic sight of your tits spilling out of your kimono, the shameless spread of your thighs. Heizou’s own wide legged stance behind you that seems to falter when he finally settles against you with a tiny, wet little click from your cunt. It was like something out of the hottest wet dream ever conceived, and your breath catches in your throat when he immediately falls into a moderate pace.

His thrusts are quick and snappy but flawlessly controlled to jab up into your body right where you needed him the most. You rock back and forth between him and the wall, gasping and groaning as softly as you could manage, while the steady plap, plap, plap of skin meeting skin rises to dominate the space inside the alley. The sway of your tits feels heavy in this position, stiff nipples cutting through the air with each pendulous swing, further highlighting just how stark your nudity truly felt out in the open like this. You’d never felt quite so exposed, so vulnerable, and it was quite possibly the most singularly arousing experience of your life.

“You look amazing like this.” He hisses behind you, reaching up to shove the back of your kimono higher to leave the full curve of your ass on display. Issuing a ruffled, almost bestial growl of pleasure, he brings both palms to your cheeks so he can grope and squeeze them, pinching tight to spread them and get a good long look at your cunt clinging to him. A flustered sound of protest rises in your throat when you realize he can see an uninterrupted shot of your puckered ass hole as well but you can’t quite seem to find the wherewithal to give it voice.

“I don’t know how long I can last right now, baby. You’re squeezing me so good and your pussy looks incredible … ooh — dammit!” Groaning, he hunches further over you to press his mouth against the sweat dampened jut of your shoulder in a sloppy kiss. “Want me to cum in you, sweetheart? Want me to fill you up now and make you walk home with me dripping out of you … want me to eat it out of you in bed later? Wanna’ sit on my face when we get back? Huh? Is that what you want?”

“Gods, yes, Heizou!” You frantically whisper back. “Please stuff me and - -“

The approaching sound of distant laughter brings you to a sudden, screeching halt. Your stomach lurches with the cold icy fist that grips you all at once and nearly stops your heart altogether. He moans, haggard and frazzled, when you subconsciously clamp down on his cock but you hardly have the presence of mind to think about that right now — or how hot and heavy he feels pulsing inside your cunt. The only semi coherent thought running through your head in that moment was that there were people coming. And there would be no hiding or excusing away this lurid scene.

Jolting, you try to pull from him and straighten up but, much to your gasping surprise, he just wraps those lean, muscular arms around your middle to keep you pinned against the front of him. Your heart very nearly jackhammers straight through your chest and you quickly twist your neck back to look at him with wide, wild eyes.

“What are you doing?” You demand in a harsh, caustic whisper.

“Don’t worry. They probably won’t even notice us here.” He tells you rather matter of factly for someone wedged balls deep inside your cunt. That he didn’t even have the decency to talk at a hushed, lower register almost makes you scream.

“Are you out of your mind? I think it’d be a little hard not to notice two people screwing in an alley!”

Lifting his head from your shoulder, Heizou pins you with a frustratingly innocent look. “What do you think is going to happen even if they do catch a glimpse of us? Send for the shogun to come execute us herself?”

Your pulse sputters and threatens to give out entirely when another burst of laughter rings out through the night, closer now. Much too close for comfort as far as you were concerned. “They could call the Doushin on us! You would lose your job if you got arrested over something like this!”

He pretends to think about that for a moment before giving his hips a stilted roll, grinding up into your cunt forcefully enough to make stars erupt in your eyes. “I say it’s well worth it. You feel way too good right now for me to care about any of that.”

“Heizou!” You could make out shuffling footsteps now, coming down the road just to your left by the sounds of it. The stumbling footfalls and tittering giggles seemed to suggest whoever it was was drunk, possibly even too intoxicated to notice much of anything around them including the two of you. But that doesn’t exactly make you feel much better about it though. Reaching down to blindly grasp at the forearm locked around your middle, you sink your nails in to try and get his attention. “Okay, so they don’t call the Doushin on us. What are we going to do if they recognize us later on? Do you really want to be known as that guy who fucked his girlfriend in the middle of a public street?”

Looking at you from under the heavy fall of his thick, pretty lashes, Heizou offers up a thoughtful hum of consideration. “If it’s being recognized you’re so worried about, I think I might have a solution for that.”

“Wha - -“

Before you can even get the whole word out he unwinds one of his arms from around you so he can reach up and slip your mask around over your face. You squawk and choke on a laundry list of protests but you can’t quite seem to form a coherent sentence anymore. All the frantic, now muffled, noises coming out of you sound like gibberish to your own ears and even trying to turn your head doesn’t work. He just follows you with his hand, keeping the calico cat mask in place while the other squeezes tight around your stomach to stop you from scuttling away. You’re about to twist your arm back to snatch a fistful of his hair when he abruptly thrusts against your ass, digging his cock so deep inside you it nearly sends you lurching into a free fall. The pressure on your guts is immense, damn near blinding, and your mouth falls open with a stuttering moan so soft and weak it almost gets lost under the pounding blood in your ears.

You have to force yourself to suck in a haggard, gasping breath of air as he picks back up his abandoned rhythm, narrow hips mutedly slapping your upturned ass again. Heizou’s cock seems to punch the protest right out of you along with a series of high pitched, mewling groans though, and you wildly claw at the wall in your distress. On one hand it felt good … amazing, even. The nervous tension thrumming through your body just made him feel even bigger, hotter, more rigid against your squirming guts. But on the other it sounded like whoever was approaching was almost right on top of you now, the muddled sound of their voices swimming nauseatingly in your head. If they just glanced over into the alley they’d see you. They would know you were getting pounded within an inch of your life and there was no telling how they’d react.

At this point you weren’t even sure how you were going to react.

Gasping just to keep back the wounded sounds of ecstasy trying to claw their way up your throat, you fretfully shudder when Heizou turns his head away from the lip of the alley and rests his cheek across your trembling shoulder instead. Hiding his face from view but still not stopping his insistent thrusting for even a second. As if sensing your grudging resignation, his hand finally falls away from the mask to grasp your neck and he holds you like that, by the throat in that loose grip, while he continues to rut into you even when those voices finally spill into the space that only the two of you had occupied up until now. A startled beat seems to punctuate the dreaded moment and then a quiet gasp echoes off the walls. Screwing your eyes shut, you hang your head between your outstretched arms and subtly arch your spine to push back on him and better take his plunging cock.

You were beyond horrified to realize it but you felt like you were going to cum again. Soon. With or without an audience watching on.

A flood of relief washes over you when the resulting rush of embarrassed footsteps quickly hurries on down the street, leaving you to it for the time being. There was no telling how long it would last though if they decided to seek out a Doushin and you desperately rock back against Heizou in an attempt to spurn him on. The two of you needed to finish up and be on your way, but you didn’t want to stop now … couldn’t bring yourself to stop when it felt like you were teetering dangerously close to the edge again.

“Want your cum, Heizou,” You mewl against the inside of the mask, trusting he would still be able to make out what you were saying even with it muffling your voice. “Want you to fill me up and take me home — ah - ahhn! Please, I need it, Heizou, I need it!”

Grunting roughly against your shoulder, his thrusts start to falter and become sloppy, more desperate. Needy. “I’m close, sweetheart, I’m cumming … I’m cumming, archons, I’m cumming!”

The noise that bursts out of him is strained and frantic, his usually soft toned voice rising another octave in his heightened bliss. He finally gives up on maintaining his pace altogether and simply slams himself into you, again and again, the harsh plap! plap! of your ass bouncing off his solid stomach growing even louder until it seems deafening in your ringing ears. You start to go cross eyed, mouth hanging open in a doped out stupor while you cling to the wall as his cock spears you straight down the middle; again and again, and again.

Fingers digging into the skin they’ve latched onto, hard enough to bruise, he at last gives one final, lurching thrust into the pulpy heat of your cunt. He grows immediately stiff and still behind you, letting out tiny little whimpers of pleasure while his cock shoots thick, heavy ropes deep into your body. Just standing there, panting, you bask in the sensation of his seed settling against your guts, so warm and creamy inside your gummy sleeve that a fresh tremor tears through you at the sensation. It was addictive and intoxicating in the worst possible way …

Some moments later he finally goes slack against you with a thin, heaving sigh of relief. At first you assume he’s just giving you a moment to recover while his cock slowly softens inside you, just warming it for the time being. But then he startles you when he slides the hand on your neck down to smooth over your flexing stomach and then dips between your spread thighs, making you go ramrod stiff.

And right on cue the fireworks start to go off overhead.

You’d never been more thankful to hear them in your entire life as you writhe and shriek in wordless delight when those blunt fingers find your swollen clit and start to rub hasty, demanding circles against it. You very nearly collapse on the spot but he keeps you upright with the sturdy arm locked around your waist, and you wildly buck and rear back on him in a blind search for release. The pressure of it quickly bears down on you, only emphasized by the cooling discharge deep inside your cunt, while he lets you grind yourself on him even when he hisses in oversensitized discomfort. You’re practically mindless with it though, hardly even having the presence of mind to understand that you were subconsciously milking his already spent cock for all it was worth.

You couldn’t stop it though, much too caught up in the violently cresting waves that seem to slam the air right out of your lungs. Tears spring up in your eyes as you twist in his hold, thighs quaking uncontrollably and, finally, with a sudden wrench that leaves you stumbling against him, you cum hard. Wailing at the top of your lungs, thankfully drowned out in the continuous boom, boom, boom of exploding fireworks, you spasm so wildly through your second release that it seems to make your teeth rattle before finally — finally! Going limp in his arms an eternity later.

Gingerly, Heizou starts to ease out of you and you outright hiss at the dull drag of him slipping loose of your hold. You’re still wheezing when he gently helps you straighten up and gets you turned around so you can lean against the wall for support. He takes a moment to push the mask up to perch on top of your head and then puts his face close to yours, speaking loud enough for you to hear over the near constant racket in the sky.

“Can I trust you not to collapse for a moment?”

You shoot him a slow, halfhearted look of warning. “You have a lot of nerve talking to me about trust right now.”

“Hey, hey, everything turned out fine, didn’t it?”

Forcefully shaking off your post-orgasm stupor, you reach up to shove at his shoulder. “How are you so sure of that, Heizou? For all you know they could be talking to a Doushin right now! How are we possibly going to explain ourselves if we get - -“

He suddenly swoops in, silencing you with a kiss that makes you squawk in surprise and outrage alike. You try to push him again, determined to stand your ground on this, but you soon find yourself grudgingly softening under the coaxing pull of his mouth. Far be it that you wanted to let it go so easily but … well, this was a pretty convincing argument.

Feeling your resolve start to weaken and then crumble, Heizou finally pulls back a moment later with a big, boyish smile that makes your heart skip a beat. You still try to cling to your anger though and look away from him with a huff, but he just leans close to press his forehead against yours, effectively taking up your entire field of vision so that you can’t avoid his attention. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about a thing. I’ll take care of it if anything happens. Promise.”

Pausing, he tips his head to brush the tips of your noses in a decidedly puppy-like nuzzle, and you find yourself smiling even though you try very hard to keep it at bay. He was frustratingly hard to stay mad at.

“Come on, let’s get you sorted out and taken home.” He murmurs softly as he tugs the top of your kimono back into place, but you don’t quite miss the sly inflection in his voice. Not by a long shot, and his grin just widens when you give him a questioning look. “If we don’t hurry back there won’t be anything left for me to eat out of you.”

⭐

Crossposted: here

#genshin impact #shikanoin heizou #heizou x reader #self insert bullshit

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