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brain-rot-central · 3 months

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Pegging Your Vampire Boyfriend: A Beginner's Guide

A/N: This is exactly what you think it is. Kudos to @kittenintheden & Shaurbox for teasing this pegging idea with me over a month ago. It hasn't left my head since.

Rating: E, a very hard E Words: 5.3k Pairing: Spawn!Astarion/Fem!Reader Warnings: 18+, pegging, bdsm- soft!Dom Tav & sub!Astarion, bottom!Astarion, praise kink, ear play, size kink if you squint, inappropriate use of magical scrolls, oral sex - fellatio, anal fingering, anal sex, trauma mention, intimacy issues, verbalized consent, blood warning

Summary: Astarion has been on the receiving end before, but not since he's gotten with you. Wanting to try it again, he propositions you in a rather intimate way.

“Darling?”

A soft, questioning voice calls out from the living quarters of your shared home.

“I'm in the kitchen, love,” you respond. You're standing before the countertop, fileting a roast of beef into smaller portions for easier storage.

Wisps of bergamot fill your senses as the inquisitor reveals himself, arms wrapping gently around your waist. His nose dips into the crook of your neck, cool lips planting chaste kisses upon your skin.

“Oh, that smells divine,” he comments. Of course it does - it's a blood-soaked slab of beef. You laugh and lean your head into his, carefully slicing another steak from the meat. He covers the hand holding your knife and brings it carefully to his face, tongue lolling out to drag across the flat of the blade. He sighs in contentment as the blood soaks into his tongue, lavishing the flavor.

You wince as he releases the grip on your hand, gently placing the knife off to the side. I’ll need a new one, now, you comment to yourself.

“Is there something you needed, Astarion?” you ask him.

He hums low in his throat. “Hmm, yes, there was something I wanted to ask you.” He peels himself away from your back and stands straight. His hands are still on your hips and you feel his forehead fall against your back.

In a whisper, he asks, “How do you feel… about taking the reins?”

You turn your head to the side, cocking an eyebrow as you ask, “What do you mean? I was on top last time.”

Astarion laughs against your back, a puff of cool air passing over your clothed skin. “I know, love,” he begins. “I mean to suggest that… you play the part of me. And I… well, you.”

It takes your brain a few seconds to interpret his words, but once it finally comes together, you feel a blush beginning to creep up your chest.

“Oh!” you exclaim, now with full understanding. “A-are you sure? I'm not opposed to it, but I have to admit… I've never done it before.”

Astarion chuckles lightly, tightening his grip around your waist, placing soft kisses along the side of your neck. “Neither have I, my dear.”

You peel yourself out of his embrace, turning your whole body toward him. A scowl lines your face; you know of his history.

“Well, I-” he stammers. “I've been with men, yes; laid on my back a number of times for them.” Astarion casts his eyes to the floor before continuing, “I have never done… this, though. With a woman.”

Expression softening from his explanation, you turn your body again toward the counter, moving yourself over to the sink to begin washing your hands. “Are you sure you want to explore this?” you ask, concern evident. “That it won't bring back… memories?”

He leans against the opposite end of the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “There's no way to truly know unless we try,” he explains. “Though, I must admit, it's been on my mind incessantly, as of late.”

It's your turn to laugh, grabbing a hand towel to dry your hands. “Really?” you ask. “You've been thinking about me fucking you?”

Astarion scoffs, a scowl forming on his face. “Must you be so vulgar?”

You smile, moving toward him to place a soft kiss on his cheek. “I'd be your first?”

He sighs with an eye roll before saying, “Proverbially speaking, yes, you would be my first.” Astarion's hand comes up to hold your chin fast as he captures your lips in a chaste kiss. “My second first.”

You hum in satisfaction, wrapping your arms around his waist. He releases your chin and you rest your head against his chest. “So, how do we do this?” you inquire. “I wouldn't even know the first place to start.”

Leaning his cheek against the side of your forehead, he replies, “Not to worry, I've taken care of that already.”

“Astarion!” you exclaim, lifting your head from his chest.

He smiles as he meets your gaze. “I already told you I've been thinking about it!”

You lightly tap on his chest in a scolding manner before asking, “How did you know I'd even be okay with this idea?”

“I didn't,” he explains, shrugging his shoulders. “But even if you weren't, I'd still have something to play with later.”

Your face burns at his bold admission, images of him sinking said something into himself flooding your vision. You've never thought of him in that way before, but you quickly admit to yourself just how much it excites you.

“Hello?” Astarion asks innocently, waving his hand over your face. “Are you still with me? Have I given you too much to think about?”

“You're terrible,” you tease, peeling yourself from his embrace in a huff once again. Your face is as red as hot coals, head swimming. “When did you want to try this?”

Astarion cocks his head to one side in thought. “I was thinking tonight?” he answers. “Or sometime soon. Whatever works for you, love.”

Nodding your head in agreement, you say, “Alright, then. Tonight it is.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Evening has fallen and you're fresh from the bath. You walk out into your shared bedroom, bathrobe wrapped snugly around your form as you dry your hair with a towel. Astarion bathed earlier as you cleaned the kitchen, telling you he would use the opportunity to prepare for your night ahead.

“Ah, there you are!” he exclaims in joy. “I've been waiting for you.” Dipping down into the drawer of the end table next to the bed, Astarion says, “There are a couple options we can choose from, darling.”

Astarion is dressed in nothing but his ruffled white shirt with the front laces undone, and his favorite pair of baby-blue and gold underwear. The hem of the shirt covers his underwear, giving off the illusion of wearing nothing underneath.

Standing up straight, he's now holding a tube of rolled parchment in one hand and a phallic toy in the other. “We have a scroll of Mystical Phallus,” Astarion explains, “or, your more traditional approach.”

You smirk as you run the towel through your damp hair, letting your bathrobe fall to the floor. Lifting your chin toward the direction of the parchment, you ask, “What's the deal with the scroll?”

Astarion clears his throat as the robe falls off your form, eyes quickly roaming over your newly exposed skin. He turns to place the toy back in the drawer, returning to meet your gaze before saying, “The shopkeeper explained it as ‘granting the caster a temporary phallus that's as close to the real thing.’ Not quite sure to what level it goes, but I'll admit - I am curious.”

“Alright, let's go with that one, then,” you decide, walking over to take the scroll from his hand.

You're not too familiar with magic, being a soldier and all, but you've used scrolls before. Opening the paper tube, you're relieved to find that the spell is a rather simple one.

As you recite the incantation etched within the scroll, a faint blue light envelops the room for a mere moment. The light fades, the scroll disintegrating, and you can't help but notice an unfamiliar heaviness between your thighs that wasn't there before.

“Oh,” Astarion comments, shifting his weight onto one hip, accompanied by a hand. “Well, that's rather generous.”

Looking down, your eyes drink in the source of your discomfort. Glowing blue, and well endowed, lay a cock. Your cock, at least for tonight. It juts up proudly in the air from between your thighs, seeming like an extension of your clitoris. Other parts, thankfully, have remained unchanged.

“...Oh,” is all you manage, continuing to survey the mystical length. “This… this is mine?”

Astarion walks over, lowering himself onto his knees in front of you. “It would appear as such,” he states. “And my, oh my, how beautiful it is.”

You scowl, meeting his gaze. You're suddenly uncomfortable, his eyes flitting between yours and your newly summoned appendage. “I don't know what to do, Astarion,” you admit in a hushed tone.

He chuckles lightly. “Touch it, love,” he says, reassuringly. “Don’t be afraid. It's your cock.”

Nodding your head, you bring a hand up hesitantly to brush over your new addition. “Ah!” you exclaim in shock, your fingertips passing over the bulbous tip. A familiar pulling sensation in your groin begins to stir as you bend slightly inward.

Astarion, looking up at you with wide eyes, asks, “So? How does it feel?”

You can feel everything, as if this has always been part of your anatomy. Each feathered touch sends sparks of electricity up and through you, snagging behind a peculiar spot in your lower stomach.

“Real, Astarion,” you sigh in disbelief, giving yourself a few more tentative touches along the shaft. “I feel like this is my cock.”

“Do you, now?” he quips in a sultry tone. “Is it okay if I do this, then?”

Your mind barely has time to register what he might be implying before Astarion drags the flat of his tongue up the underside of your ethereal summon. Your vision blanks from the sensation, nearly toppling over had Astarion not been bracing you.

“Wh-what was that?” you yell, nearly breathless.

Concern outlining his face, Astarion asks from below you, “Too much? We can stop, if you want.”

You shake your head in disagreement. “N-no,” you respond. “No, that's not it.” Placing a hand on his head, you brush his fallen curls out of his eyes, meeting them with yours. “If this is even remotely close to how you feel when it's me doing this,” you explain, “then I appreciate the level of self-control you maintain over yourself.”

Astarion hums in satisfaction, placing a quick kiss along your shaft before rising to his feet. “It's a lot, I'll admit,” he tells you. Your length jumps in response, and he smiles. “Especially how you suck my cock.”

You're barely able to respond before Astarion’s kissing you; soft, but passionate. His hands grab hold of your hips, drawing you in closer until your centers meet. You moan into his mouth as he repeats the motion a few times, your jaw going slack under his ministrations.

His arousal is evident through the fabric of his undergarments, though not quite there just yet. Slipping your tongue into his mouth, you roll your hips into his with vigor, a bolt of pleasure pulling behind your pubic bone. He groans, tangling his tongue with yours, and begins walking you back until you hit the wall behind you.

Astarion asks, “Do you want me to do that to you, darling?” breathily, breaking the kiss. A hand winds in your hair, pulling your head to the side as he licks a stripe up the side of your neck.

You shudder under his touch, grinding your length against his clothed erection again, searching for friction. “O-oooh-nly,” you groan, “i-if you want.”

Astarion pulls himself back entirely, tapping a finger lightly on your chest. “Ah-ah-ah,” he chides, “I asked you. I already know what I want.”

You close your eyes in frustration, hips involuntarily lurching forward in an attempt to catch more contact. You feel how heavy your cock is - painfully hard between your legs, desperate for release. It throbs in time with your clit, and you feel the wetness of your arousal beginning to gather at the apex of your thighs.

“Y-yes, please,” you gasp, thighs rubbing together in a hopeless quest for relief.

Satisfied, Astarion plants a kiss along your jaw, placing his hands on either side of your shoulders. “Good girl,” he purrs as he begins to kneel again. Tracing a line of kisses down your body, starting between the valley of your breasts, his hands move down to cup each within his palms.

Rolling the sensitive peaks of your nipples between his fingertips, your body jerks again, cock brushing ever so lightly against his chest as he continues kissing down the plane of your abdomen. Astarion, now sitting on his heels, braces his hands against your thighs.

He looks up to meet your eyes through full lashes. “Please tell me to stop if it becomes too much,” he tells you, genuine concern lacing his tone.

You hum in agreement, a hand coming up to tangle within the silver locks atop his head. Watching as he closes his eyes, Astarion licks again at the underside of your cock, base to tip. You shudder as his hand wraps delicately around your shaft, peeling the foreskin back. He takes a few tentative passes with his tongue along your frenulum, meeting your eyes momentarily to gauge your reaction.

Your hips buck and stutter under his tongue, a string of pleasured gasps and guttural moans slipping past your lips. The hand in his hair tightens as he takes the head of you past his lips, suckling softly on the sensitive gland.

It takes a world of restraint not to shove the rest of yourself into the inviting cavern of his mouth. Astarion must know this, however, as the hand still planted on your thigh moves to your hip, holding you still. He doesn’t leave you wanting for long, passing as much of your length into his mouth as he can manage, his hand following you down to the base. He flattens his tongue on the way back up, hollowing out his cheeks as he reaches the tip, only to do it all over again.

Knees growing weak, you push your back into the wall behind you to hold yourself steady. The hand in his hair slips, pads of your fingers passing just over the tip of his ear. Astarion moans at the faint touch, the vibration shooting up through your cock and spreading like wildfire throughout your abdomen. You perform the same motion again, and Astarion begins craning his head into your touch.

“A-ah-” he gasps, pulling himself off of you. “Darling, if you keep doing that, I-”

His mouth falls open in a delicate pant, eyes flitting closed as he works his spittle over your length with his hand. You continue toying with the outer shell of his ear, intrigued at this new discovery, and he rests his forehead against your hip.

“I never knew you had such sensitive ears,” you comment as you look down, watching him rub his thighs together as his hips buck up and down into the air.

With a drawn out groan, Astarion explains, “I’m an elf, my love. We all have sensitive ears.”

“Noted,” you respond, shakily bringing a hand down to join him along your shaft. You softly peel off his touch, lacing your fingers together. “I-I think I want to try something else, now,” you admit.

Smiling, Astarion slowly rises to his feet, cradling your jaw within his hand. His lips, swollen and soft from his prior activity, find yours; his kiss is desperate - hungry. “What do you have in mind?” he questions between quickly stolen breaths.

A fire swells within your core, and you're suddenly met with the same raging intensity and desire displayed in Astarion's kiss.

Hand tangling within his mess of moonlit curls once again, you pull Astarion’s head back, exposing the marble column of his throat. He groans when you drag the flat of your tongue over the apple of his throat, hips jerking into yours.

“I want to try fucking you,” you whisper into his skin, grinding your conjured length against his concealed erection to punctuate your intent. The coiling in your core winds tighter, but not enough to snap just yet.

As his weight presses into you, his hands grip your biceps for stability. Another roll of his hips and he sighs, dropping his head down to catch your eyes. “Are you sure?” he questions, breathless. “Because I'd really like that.”

With a nod of your head, your hands travel up under the hem of his shirt to settle on strong, narrow hips. Your lips meet again, the kiss just as ravenous as before, and begin walking you both toward the bed. When Astarion’s knees hit the edge of the bed, he gently falls back, with you quickly closing the distance above him.

“You needn’t worry about preparation,” he reveals as you lavish attention on his neck. “I took care of that earlier.”

He shudders beneath you as you mouth his scars. “Isn’t that part of this whole process?” you ask while hooking your hands into the waistband of his underwear, slowly tugging them down.

Astarion lifts his hips up and laughs, providing enough space for you to slide the cotton fabric down and off his form. “It is, but I figured it was gracious enough of you to entertain this idea,” he explains. “Prep for this is… well, intimate.” He averts your gaze for a brief moment, drawing a large breath in before continuing, “I would understand if it didn’t appeal to you.”

Removing yourself from his reach, you sit back over your legs. His face shifts uneasily at your sudden withdrawal. “Astarion,” you begin to tell him, “I’m not ashamed of your body. I want to explore this as a couple.” He’s drawn his legs together in a likely attempt at covering himself. You place a hand atop one knee, rubbing soft circles as you say reassuringly, “All of it, together. So, please. Let me?”

Astarion sits up with a smile, and rests his forehead over yours. “If you keep being this nice to me, I may just return the favor,” he says, light-heartedly.

“You already do, Astarion,” you tell him with a laugh. “Always the gentleman.”

His kiss is a quick peck over your lips as he tells you, “There's a bottle of oil in the bedside drawer. Grab it, and I'll show you what to do.”

You nod, sliding off the mattress and doing as instructed. Astarion moves himself higher into the center of the bed, sinking into the comforter and pillows. The bed dips below him as you climb back on, bottle of viscous liquid in hand.

“Pour some into one palm and rub your hands together, love,” he instructs. “This helps warm the oil.”

Popping the stopper off the bottle, you pour the cool, thick, opaque fluid out into your hand. You reapply the cork, placing it face up on top of the bedside drawer, rubbing the palms of your hands together. It takes a bit, but inevitably your body heat begins to seep into the oil.

Astarion lay before you, eyes beginning to hood over as he follows your hands. His legs fall silently open as his breath hitches for a mere moment. “Good,” he says encouragingly, his voice an octave lower. “Now, come here. Between my legs.”

You move in closer and note how the hem of his shirt is obscuring his cock from view. You can just make it out, though - it pushes against the fabric of the shirt, tenting it slightly and you swear you see a small darkened spot right where the tip of his cock lay hidden. Looking up, your eyes drink in how his collar has fallen to one side, sliding down and off his right shoulder, exposing his collar bone. Astarion normally wears this shirt with the sleeves rolled up tight, yet today, he's chosen to wear them loose.

His hands, half covered by the cuffs of his sleeves, envelop yours in a gentle embrace as he guides your slickened fingers to his core. Astarion stills for a moment, and you look up to find him staring back at you.

There's an expression on his face that you’re not immediately familiar with - it's not fear, excitement, or lust, really. Yet, the longer you study him, recognition begins to dawn over you.

It's the same look you've given him countless times before on this very bed, having thrown caution to the wind as you entwine the very fabric of your souls together.

Astarion is… submitting himself. To you.

Something majorly delicate, knowing his past.

You know of what he was forced to endure while being compelled into submission.

The barrage of lovers who cared not for the person below them; who saw him only as a means to an end. A quick pump, a cheap lay, a tool to scratch a nagging itch.

“Some people refer to the moment of climax as ‘a little death,’” he’d once told you. That was before you knew just how many he'd lead to their actual deaths.

True to form, Astarion's words are often double-edged blades. His mind dances constantly on the edge of pleasure and shame. You see it in his face, now. He’s standing on that precipice, knowing not whether to jump head first or step back.

You swallow thickly and stare back at him, unblinking, before saying, “You can always tell me if it becomes too much, and I will stop.” You pause for a brief moment before adding, “Pleasure is my only intent, Astarion.”

A smile graces his lips as he welcomes your fingers to make first contact with his entrance. “Oh, my dear,” he says with a sigh, “I’ve never doubted that about you.”

Leaning over him as you press the pads of two fingers teasingly against his tight ring of muscle, you kiss him. Astarion groans softly into your mouth, his hands coming up to cup either side of your face as he arches into the kiss. He’s grinding down lightly into your fingers, meeting each of your chaste touches against him.

“How many should I start with?” you ask softly, breaking the kiss for a brief moment.

“Two,” he answers, voice but a whisper against your lips. “Whichever ones you want.”

Humming into his mouth, you begin pushing your fingers into his entrance. Astarion’s breath hitches as you breach the perimeter, shoving his head back against the pillows. He instinctively tries closing his legs around you, though you hold one open with your free hand.

You still your movements, giving him a chance to adjust to the intrusion. “Is it alright?” you ask him.

Astarion nods his head as he moves a hand under his shirt to toy with a nipple. “Yes,” he huffs out. “I'm more than fine, love.”

Emboldened to the task at hand, you move, gently pushing and pulling your fingers within him. You feel his muscles contract around you and you briefly wonder if this is what he feels when he's inside of you. The thought sends a bolt of pleasure to your cunt, reverberating as a twitch of your cock.

You look down to watch your fingers as they work him open, and finally see his cock laying against the plane of his abdomen. Compared to the pallor of the rest of him, his length is flushed pink and red, and you can make out the labored beating of his undead heart as his cock thumps softly against his stomach. Pre-fluid seeps from his tip, gathering in a small puddle just below his navel. Bending down, you catch a small rivulet rolling off his hip with your tongue, tracing it back to the source. Astarion shudders under you, threading his free hand through your hair as he pushes down onto your fingers.

You're beginning to understand that this isn't too different from your usual sexual encounters with one another. It's truly just a mirroring of your typical positions. Out of curiosity, you curl your fingers upward in one particular pass, and his entire body spasms beneath you.

“Fuck, darling, yes… You've found it,” Astarion groans out, labored. The grip in your hair tightens and he begins fucking himself in earnest on your fingers, a string of moans falling from his lips as he passes that same spot over and over again.

Your cunt aches and your cock throbs watching the scene before you. To see him unraveling before you, submitting himself to the pleasure of the moment is intoxicating. His legs have fallen open again and you watch, diligently, at how easily your fingers glide in and out of his core.

“I- I need more,” Astarion suddenly chokes out. You meet his gaze and through lust-hooded eyes, he says, “Please… let me ride you.”

He's pleading, you notice. Begging. Your eyes travel down his form again, drinking in the wanton display of him splitting himself open over your fingers. Your cunt throbs; you think of nothing else in that moment but pulling out your fingers and replacing them with your cock.

To hear the delicious whines, the sobs, the cries that would surely tumble freely from Astarion's lips as he came undone around you. You want this, just as much as he does.

Pulling your hand free from his entrance, Astarion sobs as you crash your lips into his. “I'd love that,” you tell him, honestly.

Astarion begins to sit up, concentrating on never breaking the kiss you share as he aids you both in switching positions. You lay back, him straddling your lap mere moments later. He grinds his taint against your conjured appendage, your shafts brushing, and he cries out in a gentle moan against your lips. He breaks the kiss, reaching for the bottle of oil on the bedside table, dribbling some onto your cock.

With a few languid strokes of your mystical length to spread the oil and he lines himself up over you. Your eyes meet and you hiss through clenched teeth as your tip kisses his entrance, feeling the pressure slide over your glans as he slowly begins to take you.

“A-ahh,” Astarion pants from above you, still holding your cock steady in one hand. You sigh as you feel yourself push past the first ring of muscle, throwing your head back against the pillows. Your hands grip at his thighs as the sensation threatens to overwhelm you, fingertips likely to leave bruises that will be gone come morning.

Once he feels confident that you're nestled far enough inside, he releases his hold on your shaft, resting the palms of his hands against your lower stomach. He continues to slowly take you further in, words in a language you're unfamiliar with spilling from his mouth, until he's flush against your thighs.

Both of you freeze in that moment - you struggle to control your ragged breathing as he flutters around you, Astarion taking a moment to adjust to this foreign, but not unpleasant, sensation.

“H-how do I feel?” he asks in a hushed voice.

Truthfully? He feels… astounding. Tight, wet, and warmer than you would have thought for a vampire. When he lifts his hips, you feel the air being pulled out of your lungs. His walls drag deliciously along your shaft, and a nagging pull starts to build behind your navel.

Your mouth drops open in a silent gasp as your eyes meet his through hooded lids. “A-amazing,” you pant out. “You feel so good, Astarion.”

He moans above you, his head falling to one side as he rolls his hips over your cock. His shirt hangs off one shoulder, the hem obscuring his cock again from view. Though, you feel its weight slap against your stomach with each lift and drop of his hips.

Astarion’s voice comes out strained when he says, “Tell me again… please.”

You feel your cock twitch within him; he clenches around you as he locks eyes with you, waiting patiently for a response. Strands of sweat-soaked hair stick to his face, and on one particular stroke of his hips, you brush up against that place inside of him that forces his vision to blur at the edges. His mouth begins to salivate.

“Please, please, please,” he begs impatiently, voice an octave higher now. He's practically sobbing, spearing himself over your cock so each roll is angled to hit his prostate. You meet his thrusts from below, coil winding tighter within your abdomen as his walls continue to massage your cock.

You're not going to last much longer.

“You're so good for me, Astarion,” you say, obliging him. “You're being such a good boy.”

Astarion's mouth drops open as he bows his head forward, his entire body dipping down over you as a shudder passes through him. “Yes,” he whines, rocking back on your hips with renewed vigor. You feel his cock lay flat against your abdomen in this new position. It drags over your stomach, pre-fluid dripping from his tip and onto your skin providing an easier surface.

I am! And beautiful - not enough people mention that.

His words from long ago echo in your mind as you drink in his expression. He's gorgeous above you; handsome to begin with, but as he slips further toward toppling over the Cliff's edge, his beauty is quickly becoming amplified as he continues to lose composure.

“You’re beautiful like this,” you coo to him, lifting a hand from his thigh to rub over an ear.

Astarion's body is wracked by yet another tremor as he cries, “Darling, if you don’t-, I will-, I'm going-!” His head nestles into the hand toying with his ear and his hips pump erratically over your cock, having lost his prior rhythm.

You suck in a sharp breath, jaw clenched as Astarion becomes impossibly tighter around your shaft, and you groan. You're so close, so very close that all you need is one more thing to push yourself over the edge.

“Let go, Astarion,” you say, somehow finding the rhythm in his desperate rutting. The sound of skin slapping roughly fills the room as your hips meet his on his downstroke. You wrap a hand around the outline of his cock tenting his shirt, and jerk him in tempo with your thrusts.

He’s sobbing, loud and unabashedly. With one particular pass of your fingers over the outer tip of his ear, Astarion suddenly unwinds. He yells his pleasure above you, collapsing onto your chest as wave after wave overcomes him. You feel his spend seep into the fabric of his shirt and onto the skin of your abdomen in a small warm pool.

It doesn't take long for the involuntary spasming of his core over your cock to send you spiraling into your own completion. Moans slip freely past your lips and you feel your folds become soaked, drippinh down the cleft of your ass as your relief washes over you. You bury your face against Astarion's hair, breathing in his soft silver curls and the signature cologne you know so well.

As you both begin to come down off your highs, you wrap your arms around his back and hold him tightly against your chest. You feel the spell of the phallus lift, Astarion whimpering softly as it vanishes from within him. You both lay on the bed, panting, trying to catch your breath for what feels like ages.

Astarion is first to lift up his head and say, “That… that was amazing.”

“Mm,” you hum in agreement. You can barely open your eyes as fatigue begins to set in.

Taking a finger, Astarion traces circles absentmindedly into your skin as he rests his head back down over your chest. “Darling?” he asks softly. “May I tell you something?”

Sleep almost has its claws in you when you jolt back awake, forcing your eyes to snap open and find Astarion. “Hmm?” you groan in question.

With a quick huff, Astarion says, “I just wanted to thank you for doing this with me.” He places a quick peck below your jawbone before adding, “It was really nice.”

You sigh audibly, and say “It was, we should do this again.” Your eyelids are impossibly heavy; sleep is threatening to claim you and will do so in mere moments. “I love you,” you manage to mumble out before slipping gently out of consciousness.

Astarion smiles into your skin as he says, “I love you, too,”

I love this, he thinks.

I love us.

#astarion smut #astarion x reader #astarion x female reader #astarion x female tav #astarion x tav #astarion x oc #astarion x female oc #astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion fanfic #bg3 #fanfiction #writing

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venuslore · 5 months

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𖥔 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𖥔

summary ; coriolanus needs to learn how to relax.

pairing ; young!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

notes ; smut. 18+ content. minors do not interact! handjob (male receiving). swearing. spoilers for tbosas !

do not transfer, translate or share my work to any other sites.

coriolanus’ determination to achieve the plinth prize was palpable. the coveted prize, awarded annually to the top students at the academy, granting them money and essentially a free ride through the university, was all he had been focusing on.

countless books lay strewn across his desk, balls of crumpled up paper scattered around the room, as he stood before it. leaning against the old wooden table as his arms firmly held him steady. it was a clear indication that coriolanus had been pushing himself, striving to make every word and every thought count.

while it was something to admire, that didn’t stop the worry that had been seeping in. it wouldn’t have been obvious to most, but to you, someone who spent a lot of time with him, you could see the dark circles that had begun to encapsulate his eyes, the way his hair was slightly disarrayed, or the fact that he hadn’t even completely changed out of his academy uniform. only his bright red pants and blue shirt still firmly clad on his body.

he doesn’t hear you come in, doesn’t hear the thud from you closing the door, or you dropping your bag on the chair in the corner of the room. too enthralled by his textbooks and whatever scribbled nonsense is written in them, that it’s not until you wrap your arms around him from the back that he finally takes notice of your presence.

a smile spreads across his face as he places a hand atop of yours, “what are you doing here?” he asks, surprised but pleased to see you.

you pull him closer, embracing the feeling of holding him in your arms after barely getting to see him that day. the smell of roses filling your senses as you drink him in, “tigris let me in, said you’ve been cooped up in here all afternoon. plus, i… missed you.”

“i really missed you too, my love, but i-”

“-have so much to do. i know,” you cut him off, finishing his sentence. the same sentence you had been getting for weeks now. “which is exactly why you are going to put away the books and spend some time with your girlfriend.”

you can physically see the gears beginning to turn in his head, trying to think of a way to let you down gently. you didn’t take it to heart, you knew how important it was for him to win the plinth prize. you were the only one outside of his family that did.

“you already know you’re going to get that prize, coryo,” you sigh, “nobody even comes close in comparison to how hard you’ve been working for it, but you’ve gotta stop spreading yourself so thin.”

“i know, but tigris and grandma’am-”

“-would agree with me, that you need a night off,” you press a gentle kiss to the back of his shoulder, and pull him in even tighter. his head lulls back to lean against yours, blond curls falling into his face as a sigh leaves his lips. he knew you were right. “you’re always taking care of everyone else, let me take care of you for once.”

he turns to look at you now, eyes big and dewy, a mixture of surprise and understanding as he comprehends the hidden meaning behind your words. however, before he can utter a single word in response, your hands gently glides along his abdomen, gradually tracing its way down to were the band of his pants delicately meets his waist. his breath catches momentarily, captured by a flicker of anticipation, while his unwavering gaze remains fixed upon your own, unyielding and brimming with unspoken emotions.

“you’ve been working so hard,” your voice is barely above a whisper, almost tauntingly, but he hears you all the same, “... let me help you relieve some of that tension.”

coriolanus swallows hard, falling into your hands, both physically and metaphorically, and he surrenders with a nod. it brought a smile to your face to see the hard exterior he put on crumble, become powerless, and just from your mere touch.

his back stiffened as he leaned against you, watching as your hand roamed lower now, trailing down to where he was confined behind his pants. a shaky breath escapes him and he shifts on the balls of his feet, waiting with anticipation as you finally make contact with his now pulsing bulge. nothing separating you except for the thin material of his underwear.

“y/n,” he sighs, your name falling from his lips so gracefully.

you can’t help the small laugh that escapes you, pleased to see the effect you had on him. “shh, don’t think about it, you do enough of that as it is. just relax,” you push on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek, as a bright flush spreads across it.

you could feel him getting harder in your grasp, his breaths growing shorter and lower, eyes flailing closed with desperation. your hand runs circles around him, groping him where he needed you the most. it brought you pleasure just to hear the soft moans escaping him, watching him lose control to you.

his chest rises and falls at a dramatic pace, his patience wearing thin, but that was all part of the fun. you wanted him needy, begging for you to touch him.

“fuck, y/n,” he gasps, illiciting a stroke of excitement in you.

deciding that he had enough of you teasing him, you waste no time delving into his underwear and releasing him from the constraints of his pants. an audible sigh of relief comes from coriolanus as you do so, his body shuddering slightly at the warmth of your hand finally making contact.

he rests in your hand, his largely endowed member, all pretty and pink at the tip. you stroke him teasingly, rubbing the end with your finger to gather the pre-cum that had trickled out, using it to help you start stroking him. he shudders from the movement, struggling to stand still as you slowly pump your hand up and down his shaft.

you remove your hand momentarily to collect some of your spit and when you hold him once more he shudders, struggling to stand still, and his hips begin to move involuntarily. if there was one thing coriolanus loved more than you pleasuring him, it was watching you pleasure him.

tucking his chin against his chest, he watches as your hand works his length, pumping back and forth with ease. his hips jut forward, begging for more, until it all becomes to much and his hands lurch forward to grasp onto the table before him, just like they were when you walked in.

“let it out for me, baby,” your voice is reassuring in his ear, sweet and soft, full of promise.

hearing you speak to him in such a way pulls a moan from the back of his throat and he just about loses it. his body tightens at the same time, hips bucking himself into your hand faster as the coil in the pit of his stomach finally bends and breaks.

he clamps his teeth down on his lower lip to muffle his moans, trying to remain quiet so that no one else could hear what the two of you were up to. his knuckles turn white as he gently bangs his fist down on the desk, and it’s only seconds before your hand is warm with his cum.

“fuck me,” he whisper-shouts, eyes clenching shut as his hips jut and dick twitches in your hand.

“that’s my boy,” the comment pulls a small chuckle from coryo as you remove your hand, his white secretion now coating it, “though, it does seem like an awful waste. i guess it’s a good thing i’m not done with you yet.”

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breadbrobin · 4 months

Text

fate

clarisse la rue x reader — percy jackson and the olympians

[fem!daughter of apollo reader]

[part 2 to the trees]

summary: clarisse is being weirdly standoffish, and you’re not one to cave to that, no matter how much you like her. and no matter how things go, you still have to get your weapons from the forest.

warnings: swearing, arguing, fighting, monsters, PINING BUT THEYRE IDIOTS, everyone’s so mad at each other rn, kissing (AHHHH), canon typical violence, again probably slightly ooc clarisse but hey i love her anyway

word count: 3.2k

(uhhh so this is probably not what anyone was expecting for part two but this is how i alway a planned it, so here it is!! tag list in reblogs and also thank you for the love on the trees! i love you all so much <3 and i’d die for you just like clarisse and this dumb bitch here would die for each other)

(this is much more enemies to lovers than the first one btw so have fun)

———————————————

the day after capture the flag was always a little tense. of course it was. half the camp had just lost, and not many people at camp were good losers, especially not those who got their butts kicked.

this time, though, there was a new level of tension in the air.

ares kids didn’t often run the flag over the line themselves, and those who did were crowing about it at breakfast, then all morning too.

curiously, clarisse wasn’t. she was eating in silence, picking through her eggs like she was searching for something.

you’d never seen her like that before. no one had. but, it seemed you were the only person to notice. you always were, and you were okay with that.

your brother nudged your arm and shot you a questioning look, but you brushed him off with a smile.

why was clarisse so down? she’d won. what did she have to be upset about? was she mad at you? did you do something to piss her off in the tree? she hadn’t seemed exactly happy when she left.

stuck in your thoughts, you didn’t realise she’d met your eyes until your brother elbowed you.

“ow! what do you want?” you snapped, rubbing your rib cage tenderly.

“clarisse is staring at you,” he said with wide eyes. “dude… what did you do?”

“nothing,” you scoffed and stood up, taking your empty plate to the stack of dirty dishes, trying—and failing—to not look at clarisse as you left.

“y/n, wait up!”

you slowed down for sam as he jogged to catch up to you. there was a newfound bitterness in your mouth when you saw him. you’d never liked him, not like he’d liked you, but you’d never felt like you wanted to be away from him. not like you did in that moment then. but where would you go? to clarisse? yeah, right, she’d laugh in your face, regardless of whatever happened—or might have happened—in that tree.

“what’s up?” you asked. you couldn’t help your voice being drier than usual.

“just wanted to see how those arrows did you? were they good? i can make some more, if you want.” he looked almost eager to do so.

you smiled kindly. he really was sweet. “they were great, thanks, sam. best arrows i’ve ever used, even if i didn’t get too much of a chance to use them.” your steps faltered. “i did leave one in the forest though. i’ll have to get that later.”

your eyes locked on clarisse as she walked towards you down the path. two of her siblings were behind her, laughing, but she wasn’t. in fact, her jaw was set tight and she was glaring. at sam.

“i could come with you?” he suggested. “watch your back. keep you safe, you know?”

clarisse scoffed as she passed. “she doesn’t need you to keep her safe, tool-box.”

that was a little mean. sure, sam carried his tool-box everywhere, but you never know what might need to be fixed! despite yourself, you had to hold in a laugh. your eyes were alight with amusement as you locked gaze with clarisse.

she looked proud of herself, a jaunty grin on her lips. you couldn’t help your gaze dropping to them briefly. she smiled wider. it was infuriating. she now knew what her effect on you was, and she was using it.

“if she needed someone to protect her, she’d come to me, right, angel?” she tilted her head.

your mouth was infuriatingly dry. you nodded. “uh—“

“whatever,” sam snapped. “come on, y/n. let’s go.”

you kind of wanted to stay, but his grip on your arm didn’t leave any room for an argument. you trailed after him as he left, glancing over your shoulder just in time to see clarisse’s face darken with anger.

“angel?” sam scoffed. “who does she think she is?”

“uh…”

“whatever. gods, she’s just so—“ he turned and faced you, almost causing you to bump into his chest. you’d never seen him so intense before. “stay away from her, y/n. seriously. she’s bad news.”

“she’s nice to me,” you protested.

“she’s not nice to anyone. don’t be naive.” he turned on his heel and started to walk away, then turned back, his face softer. “come on. do you want to learn how to weld? you said you did last week.”

did you? you didn’t remember that. but you did vaguely remember a conversation with sam that you spent zoned out and staring at clarisse as she trained, so that was probably it. “oh, no… i have to… train…”

he looked disappointed, but nodded. “okay, that’s cool. maybe another day. or maybe, we can… go for a walk together? or even have lunch on the beach?”

you nodded absently. “maybe.”

“great, it’s a date!”

you frowned. “it’s a what?”

he looked happier than you’d ever seen him. he even kissed your cheek before walking off, a new spring in his step. you stood there for a moment, eyes wide, wondering what the hell just happened. then you heard a scoff from behind you.

when you turned around, clarisse was walking away.

“clarisse,” you said softly, jogging after her. “clarisse, wait!”

“go hang out with your boyfriend, l/n.” she snapped, her arms crossed as she walked. “he’s probably waiting for you so you two can make out in that sweaty little sex dungeon they call a workshop.”

your eyebrows shot up. “okay, first of all, i’m pretty sure it is actually a workshop, and second of all, he’s still not my boyfriend!”

she scoffed again but didn’t answer, stomping up the steps to the ares cabin and stopping at the top, looking down at you.

you felt small under her gaze, but you didn’t back down.

“what are you doing here?” she asked after a moment.

“you said i could come get a new dagger,”you said.

she rolled her eyes and leaned on the porch railing. “and?”

you frowned, looking up at her. “and… i’m here to get one?”

she regarded you for a few seconds in silence, then, just as she was about to speak, a new voice called out.

“clarisse, are you giving out girlfriend privileges already?” one of her brothers, marcus, you thought, stepped into the doorway of the cabin and peered around her to look at you. he looked like a stereotypical son of ares: buff, tall and mean. “that’s cute.” he continued, looking at you like you were an animal in a zoo.

“she’s not my girlfriend,” she scoffed like it was the most ridiculous thing in the world.

well, that hurt.

“yeah, we’re just—“

“we’re not even friends,” she added hurriedly, not even looking at you. “she just thinks she’s special.”

your jaw clenched. that really hurt. “i don’t think i’m special,” you snapped. “i think i want you to honour your word from yesterday or go and get my dagger out of the forest for me.”

“not my fault you forgot your dagger,” she studied her nails nonchalantly.

“but if you hadn’t thrown my dagger out of a tree and tossed my new arrow aside like it was trash then i wouldn’t have forgotten. and maybe if you hadn’t leaned in like you were about to kiss me, maybe i wouldn’t have forgotten either.” your gaze was as sharp as hers was, meeting in the middle with fire and lightning crackling between you.

she stepped forward, face to face with you. for a second, you thought she’d punch you, but you didn’t back down.

then she laughed. it wasn’t at all like her laugh in the tree the day before. this was her cold, cruel laugh that she usually saved for her victims. with a start, you realised that’s what you were: another victim of clarisse la rue. your heart broke for a split second before you pulled yourself together and straightened your back, meeting her eyes.

“kiss you?” she snickered. “get your head out of your ass, angel, you’re not all that because you can shoot a bow and climb a tree.”

you stepped closer to her, so you were right up in her face. “and you’re not all that because you scare away everyone who cares about you, just because your daddy’s a little mean. you don’t need to be a bitch about everything.”

you regretted it instantly. you’d gone too far. you knew that.

her face dropped and a hurt look flashed through her eyes, but it died as soon as it came to life.

you stepped back and turned, marching away.

“where are you going?” she called after you. “we’re not finished here!”

“you have something else to say to me, clarisse, you come find me!” you shot back, your voice hard. you didn’t start arguments often, but goddamn did you finish them.

you stomped into the forest, determined to find your dagger and arrow so you could prove to both clarisse and sam that you were capable of more than just shooting arrows from trees and running away from fights.

it was darker today. the clouds that covered camp half-blood permeated through the forest, leaving a heavy weight suspended among the trees. the air felt thicker, even, and the birdsong seemed quieter than usual. was there something around? something hanging in the air, waiting to attack you? drag your body back to camp and leave it on clarisse’s doorstep like a cat bringing in a dead bird?

or was your fear just because you were alone instead of with the rest of camp.

whatever it was, it put you on edge.

there was a clicking sound behind you, like someone was cracking a joint, but when you turned, no one was there. you weren’t foolish enough to call out.

you could feel a chill going down your spine, and that’s when you knew: the first shoe had dropped.

your eyelids fluttered and you nearly dropped to the ground, but you leaned heavily against a tree to catch yourself. typical. go out on your own, thinking you can take care of yourself and you get hit with a premonition. how’s that for fate?

you let the feeling wash over you; the pure panic of the near future and the warm grip of a hand on your wrist, like someone was pulling you along.

the future was not looking promising.

there was another clicking sound behind you as you finally managed to straighten up, much closer this time.

you turned around.

the bushes were rustling.

you suddenly realised what that clicking sound was.

mandibles.

two ants the size of german shepherds burst through the foliage. myrmeke.

there was the other shoe, dropping real hard.

“shit!” you stumbled backward, reaching for a weapon. you had no weapon. “double shit!”

you turned and ran.

the ants were fucking fast. they could have caught up to you if you weren’t so agile, turning and springing off in different directions every few steps, sending them careening into trees and rocks. that was the only thing keeping you alive.

where even were you? you didn’t recognise this area. hopefully you weren’t running directly for their anthill. that would be a real twist of fate.

then you burst into a new area, this one with a large tree—a large tree that you recognised.

“yes!” you exclaimed, dashing for the trunk. you found your dagger easily, then your discarded arrow too. you didn’t know what good they’d do against the myrmeke, considering that their shells were as hard as armour and, while force was good in some cases, you had to admit that sharpness may have helped you against them.

you couldn’t run anymore. your screaming lungs told you that. you couldn’t climb either. the ants could climb better than you and you’d be a sitting duck up there, no matter how high you went. but maybe, just maybe, you could hold them off until they got bored or someone realised you were missing.

it wasn’t easy, but you managed to deflect and dodge the myrmeke’s attacks. they were fast, but you were faster. you even managed a swipe at one of their legs as you rolled past, but all it did was leave a tiny chink in its armour.

you were beginning to lose hope.

honestly, what you wouldn’t give for a spear right now. your blunt dagger and slim arrow were about as good as a toothpick against these monsters.

just as you were backed against the tree that you’d once found a safe haven, you heard a battle cry. you could have sobbed from relief, but instead, as the spear-wielding figure landed on top of one of the ants, driving her weapon into the gap between its armoured plates, you took your opportunity to stab your arrow with as much force as you could into the other ant’s gaping mouth, slipping it precisely between its mandibles and, hopefully, into its brain.

it jerked back in pain and screeched, the sound making your ears ring, but it didn’t die. instead, it looked rightfully pissed off, and now it had an arrow sticking from its mouth.

as your saviour pulled her spear from the ants back, a warm, brown liquid sprayed on you. it smelled like ants always did after you crushed them, just a million times worse. you wondered if this was revenge for all the ants you’d murdered in your life.

“gross!” you exclaimed, wiping it off your face.

“grow up, bows, we gotta go!” clarisse. your saviour was clarisse. of course.

just as you were about to protest, two more myrmeke crept out of the forest towards you.

she gripped your wrist, right where that warmth was in your premonition, and dragged you away, making you drop your dagger in the rush.

“i dropped my—“

“save it!” she snapped, pulling you along.

the desperation in her voice kicked you into gear and you started running faster, alongside her now.

you didn’t use the same tactics as before. instead of dodging, you just ran as fast as you could and prayed that the myrmeke would be slower. clarisse seemed to know where she was going, at least.

“you’re such an idiot!” clarisse yelled as they ran.

“we’re doing this now?” you panted incredulously.

“you could have died!”

“we’ll both die if you don’t stop yelling at me!”

finally, gloriously, you breached the edge of the forest and stepped into camp. the myrmeke wouldn’t follow you there.

you dropped to you knees, panting and staring into the forest. clarisse was standing in front of you, her spear ready, just in case.

you’d stepped into a quiet part of camp up behind the amphitheatre, so there was no one around to see you, and no one around to help you. you had a feeling that if the myrmeke didn’t kill you, clarisse wouldn’t hesitate.

once it was clear that they weren’t following, she rounded on you.

you were still on your knees, your legs too tired and shaky with adrenaline to stand, but she didn’t seem to care.

“what were you thinking, going in on your own?” she snapped.

“well i wasn’t expecting to get attacked by killer ants within the camp’s borders!” you protested.

“everyone knows they’re there.”

“i forgot, okay? i’m not perfect.”

“oh, i know.” she rolled her eyes.

“gods, would you just fuck off?” you finally stood up, face to face with her. “you’re horrible sometimes, you know that? i can’t believe i’ve defended you.”

“i don’t need your defending.”

“and i don’t need your help!”

“you would have died!” she yelled, emphasising every word.

“but i didn’t!” you shouted back.

she rolled her eyes and stepped closer, anger practically radiating off her. “yeah, thanks to me. you’d be dead if i hadn’t followed you in there—“

“why did you follow me?” you asked suddenly, voice harsh.

“what?”

“why did you follow me?” you asked again, slower. “i didn’t ask you to look after me, clarisse.”

there it was again. that slightly relaxation of her shoulders when you said her name. it drove you nuts. you didn’t know if you wanted to kiss her for hours or throw her to the myrmeke.

she tensed up again and turned to leave. “whatever. i’m done here.”

“i’m not!” you gripped her shoulder and pulled her back around. to your surprise, she didn’t pull a weapon on you. “why did you follow me, clarisse? was it the same reason that you were flirting with me yesterday? and why you’re so protective of me? and why you hate sam?”

“i wasn’t flirting with you,” she grumbled. “and i hate sam for… personal reasons. and i’m not protective of you! why would you even think that?”

“that’s all bullshit and you know it,” you sneered.

“gods, you aggravate me!” she exclaimed.

“you didn’t have to come help me,” you scoffed, stepping back. “i didn’t ask for your help.”

“and i didn’t want to help you!”

“then why did you? huh? you could handle not winning a fight? you wanted to finish the argument on your terms?” your eyebrows were raised and your face was cold. “or were you gonna beat me up but the giant killer ants got to me first?”

she looked like she was about to explode with anger. “because i love you!”

the air escaped from your lungs in one sharp moment, and it looked like hers did the same thing.

“what?” you asked, your voice softer.

it was silent. she looked like she was trying to find something to say, but couldn’t. her mouth opened and closed weakly, and she shook her head, lips pressed together. you wanted to kiss her.

so you did.

she tensed up as your hands came to her waist, pulling her body and lips against yours hard. then, finally, she relaxed. she dropped her spear at your feet and raised her hands to your hair, threading her fingers through the strands. she was a softer kisser than you’d expected, but it was definitely her. it was all her. the tug on your hair, the underlying, undeniable harshness of the kiss, the spear that rested against your foot. it was perfectly clarisse. you could have kissed her until the sun went down and the ants came and carried you both to their anthill, and if you stayed kissing her like this, you wouldn’t even mind.

when, finally, you pulled away, you were both breathing heavily. all of the tension from the fight hid dissipated, leaving only a warm sparkling in the air, like a mirage around her face in the sunlight. maybe that was a sign? or a vision? whatever it was, it was heaven-sent.

she was smiling. she looked softer like this. gods, you loved it. it felt like fate, and you knew a lot about fate. fate was fickle. fate was cruel. fate brought you the arguments, the myrmeke, the terror. but fate also brought you this. this girl who was glowing in the sun like she was made of pure rays of light. the girl with a spear that she laid down at your feet and would save you barehanded if you asked. the girl who had sunk into your arms like she was made to be there.

“do you think i can get that new dagger now?” you asked cheekily, playing with the hem of her camp shirt. “i mean, i have girlfriend privileges now, right, babe?”

clarisse rolled her eyes, but she was still smiling. “shut up, devil.”

“ooh, devil. that’s new,” you teased. “i like it. it’s apt.”

“it sure is.” she looked down. “i’m… sorry, by the way.”

“me too,” you nodded. “i didn’t really mean any of that, you know?”

“‘cause you like me,” she said in a teasing voice.

“yeah, ‘cause i like you, or whatever.” you kissed her again, smiling against her lips. “and i know you like me too, because you so did nearly kiss me in that tree yesterday.”

she shrugged. “maybe. maybe not. guess we’ll never know.”

you found out at the next capture the flag game. and the next. and the next. she would go out of her way to find you, defeat you, then kiss you before running off to win the games. and honestly, you didn’t really mind.

fate was a fickle thing, but with clarisse by your side, no one could touch you. sam left you alone, people started treating you better, and you had everything you could ask for. her.

and whenever you two argued, you’d go into the woods together and kill some ants. after all, what says ‘couple’s bonding’ quite like murder?

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo #pjo tv show #pjo x reader #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #dior goodjohn

1K notes · View notes

httpswstef · 3 months

Text

HEADCANONS & love and deepspace boys♡

warning : f!reader, just pure fluff, anyone can read. ☆

words count : 2652.

characters : rafayel, zayne, xavier, caleb.

stefie : hi! sorry if i have mistakes : ( hope u like it!

rafayel !

the most playful little guy in the world! will literally do anything you want just to see your wonderful smile and hear your beautiful laugh! he is truly willing to go to great lengths, it makes no difference to him what exactly.

he will stare at you all the time, just because he likes it so much and you can't do anything about it, he is fascinated by you and he wants to watch your beauty at any moment. you are the truest angel for him, how should he get away from you? that's right, he doesn't.

he loves to stroke your cheeks with the pad of his thumb and look into your gaze, he tries to find something there but love and care for him.

like a ritual for a happy day - kissing your eyes and pressing his nose against yours and trying to make your breathing the same.

the boy literally wants to become one with you. to become your heart, air and soul (in the best and most adequate sense). and he doesn't want to let you go anywhere else, rafael is afraid that someday you might find someone better, though he guffaws about it, but will you find someone more perfect than him? no.

he's a very gentle kisser! he has such soft lips that you just want to kiss every second, and he can't help himself when he sees you and immediately tries to snuggle up to your sweet lips, makes a very hurt look if you don't kiss him, makes his trademark pouty face and waits for your apology. he's such a meow.

but also, he loves to cuddle! i'm sure that he is very warm and can warm you up at any moment if you ask, and you don't have to ask, he will realize it himself! because he is sticking to you 25/8 to share this warm energy and his love with you, gently stroking you with his palm and leaving air kisses all over your body, you will not be able to resist him 110%.

he likes to just lie next to you and talk about anything or be silent, rafayel doesn't care, the main thing is that you are close and safe next to him.

i think he gets jealous sometimes. you are his treasure and his most important love, he trusts you all his life, but raf can't trust other men when they look at you as their prey. He'd rather spend the night in the police station than let one of those idiots touch you, i mean it.

if you sleep next to him, there's a 100% chance rafael is sleeping on top of you, and you're trying to get out of his grip and he's squeezing harder.

he will never raise his voice at you, and if he does, it will be by accident. he'll be on his knees begging you to forgive him and not leave him. will apologize for another ten years to let you know that he's really sorry and he'll never do it again, because he loves you infinitely more.

you're his biggest muse and his only muse. he'll make an exhibition of paintings with only you in them. you. rafayel wants people to know who helped him achieve such a beautiful inspiration, he tried as hard as he could, he painted his paintings daily and didn't miss a single second, he spent a lot of time but it was worth it, because you were crazy about the paintings! smiled, laughed and cried so hard with love for him, it broke rafayel's heart. this is his number one exhibition and the one where he captured his life, his air and his one and only love.

his love languages are spending time together and physical contact! he wants to hold you close and not let you go, kiss or touch you in every way possible, warm you and love you with his love and he is endlessly happy when you spend time with him like this, play with his hair and draw with him, raf will be over the moon!

will call you baby and his love absolutely always! because it's true. once you get into a relationship, he'll already use nicknames, he doesn't care, you're his favorite and that's it. 💅

zayne !

zayne is the most protective type of guy! he always wants to know that you're okay and you don't have any problems, and if you do, please tell him and he'll drop everything to rush over to you and protect you, help you and make you happy. it might have something to do with his profession, but either way, zayne just loves you beyond belief and wouldn't get over the moment if something happened to you.

already he wants to live together with you and come to your house, hugging you around the waist and kissing your shoulder. he wants to feel your warmth and let go of all the problems, bad moods and anger just by being near you and inhaling your scent.

he doesn't care if you work or not, he will pay for you everywhere and that's the truth! zayne wants to give you everything in this world, to make you happy and look at things while remembering your favorite guy, it will warm zayne's heart more than anything!

the most gentle and careful boy! sweetly holding your waist and stroking you a little while he listens with a smile on his face as you tell him something, he is so in love with you :( this may sound selfish, but zayne doesn't care who you are sitting with, he only wants to listen to you and look at you.

he has the most wonderful kisses. zayne kisses you with all the passion he has set aside for such a wonderful and intimate moment between you, he takes his time with you. gently he settles his hands on your cheeks and brushes his hands against your plump lips, savoring such a wonderful taste of love between you, trying to pull away every now and then so you can breathe a little, but he just can't, he wants to kiss you every second and never let go of those beautiful lips. will probably bite you a little if he's in a playful mood so he can kiss those spots on your lips afterward. 🫢

if we're talking about cuddling, it's one of zayne's favorite things to do. as much as he loves kissing you, feeling your warmth is so much more important to him. he can feel your pulse beating out his name and he smiles like a cat. just feeling you near gives him the best hope in the world and the fact that he's willing to fight every day just to keep you warm.

if you sleep next to him, zayne holds you very gently and sniffles softly in your ears. only with you can he sleep so soundly that he probably won't hear alarm clocks, he'll be late, but he'll kiss you and tell you how glad he is to have you in his life.

he'll text you throughout the day to see how you're feeling and if you want to visit him, and if zayne is more or less free, he'll have lunch with you!

he's not the jealous type. zaynehas confidence in you and in the fact that you'll never hurt him - that's enough. and if anyone starts thinking he has a chance with you, clearly he'll fly off to another galaxy.

he might come in upset from work sometimes and start ignoring you, just because he doesn't want to snap and say rude words in your direction, because he knows you don't deserve that. Kiss him on the forehead and tell him how much you love him - zayne will definitely cry and lay on your chest while you gently stroke his hair. he's such a baby.

his love languages are words and actions! i'm 100% sure of it. zayne shows his love for you through actions and doesn't mind telling the world about his endless love for just you. ( he's already planning to marry you and picking out a ring, hehe.)

will call you angel and baby! the cutest nicknames and only for you. he calls you that everywhere he goes and doesn't care about the stares of the people around him. you have the sweetest love! 🥺

xavier !

the smallest baby of all! literally the embodiment of love, sunshine and all that is purest. xavier has the most tender feelings for you, which he kept especially for you, protecting them from stares and dirty hands, just so you could see what a beautiful love he has for you.

i also think he's one of the most romantic guys. He thinks out every date so that you will definitely like it, makes a plan and then goes to you to ask for your opinion, the only one he will listen to. 🫢

but also, he'll also be happy to just sit at home with you, talking about different topics and cuddling until the wee hours of the morning on the couch while some movie is playing in the background. xavier will look at you with a look full of love, you lit a spark in him and only thanks to you it is always with him.

despite the fact that xavier seems too sweet and kind, he also has his dark side as a hunter, he will not be afraid to stand up for you at any moment, no matter what they do to him - he doesn't care. after all, you trusted him and trusted your heart, now he will always protect you from the evil in this world. you deserve nothing but heaven and all the beautiful things in it.

i would say xavier is the type of guy who loves hugs much more than kisses, just feeling your heartbeat and breathing - makes him happier than ever. him holding you close and stroking you with his palm while his other hand goes through your hair is something much more than just love, it's a special intimacy, keep it.

speaking of kissing though, xavier loves kissing your cheeks and hands! his most favorite places and the ones he once kissed for the first time, they are precious to him and so he dare not leave them without his special love. his lips are VERY soft, even too soft! the ones you want to kiss every second of the day. 😭 before nestling his lips on yours, xavier runs his finger along your cheeks and is sure to whisper sweet words, im sure!

i think he's jealous, sometimes too jealous. he's just afraid you'll leave him or find someone better. ☹️ seriously, the boy is ready to fight for you with anyone, just so you can feel his endless love. but don't worry, he will never blame you or fight with you, xavier is beyond that, he will just get over it and come running to you for a cuddle afterward!

and based on that, xavier is not a fan of fighting, just like the rest of the guys. he is a sweet baby and wants you to have a loving relationship with him and no aggression.

xavier loves to sleep next to you, because it's so peaceful and he knows that you are absolutely fine. covering you with his warm blanket and pulling you even closer to him! trying to put you together like a puzzle and kisses you softly behind your ear and then kisses your neck to let you know that xavier is there for you and always will be.

he will cook for you! even if he doesn't know how to cook, he will learn how to cook so that he can delight you every day with his masterpieces and see your smile after his incredibly tasty dishes.

like i said before, xavier is the most tactile baby of all, so his primary love language is physical contact! he loves snuggling with you, he loves cuddling, he loves stroking you, he loves when you sit on his lap, he loves when you braid his hair, he is just crazy about the way your bodies interact and the warmth you give each other. and another love language is support! you are his best and most loyal friend, he will trust you with all his secrets and more. xavier also wants to be your source of energy for the whole day, support you when you are in a bad mood and want to cry, or when you want to be alone, but he will still check in on you from time to time to make sure you are okay.

calling you all kinds of cute nicknames! he has no favorites, to him you are a baby, toddler, baby girl, little girl, princess, kitten, bear and everything in between. he is too sweet and wants you to know how beautiful you are in his eyes and what a gorgeous girl you are!

caleb !

my baby caleb! the most favorite of all and the one I myself would do anything for and protect him from any evil. 🥺 he has got all types of softie guys in him and is loving, and protective, and sweet, and hot! he is literally everything, i can say you won the lottery if you accepted his love, because caleb will give you the ultimate paradise with soft clouds, heartfelt confessions and with your most favorite fruits! my boy is the most loving and so he will do the best for his angel.

plus, he is the ultimate jokester! when caleb is around you, he always tries to make a joke somehow to make you smile sunny and then tickle you and hear your laughter that will make caleb himself laugh to tears.

caleb just walks up to you and rests his head on top of yours and follows you around like a lost child. 😭 i swear, if you walk downtown together, he'll probably cling to you so he doesn't lose sight of you (he's afraid of losing you.)

he also loves to eat and so he always wants to take you to different places he likes and treat you to something yummy for how well you did! (even if you didn't do anything.)

he's not jealous at all because he's confident in your relationship and won't let anyone ruin it. your harmony and your love is far above anything in his life, he is ready to keep it in his soul forever and even in death he will love you with his tender love. even if caleb notices someone trying to hit on you, he knows that person will get nothing, because you are only loyal to your gorgeous boyfriend and no one else. he will also make sure to stand up for you and tell the person to go elsewhere and leave you alone.

will introduce you to his grandmother without fail! he loves you both dearly and is confident that you will get along and find common ground, making caleb the happiest guy on this planet!

and how he loves to kiss you! very hard, but at the same time too tender! for caleb, all of you, beautiful and wonderful, all the parts of your body that he wants to kiss and give all his love! he presses his palms to your face and gazes into your eyes, mentally asking for your permission and only then does he kiss you, not allowing you to inhale and continuing to kiss you as his hands travel up and down your body. it's like you're the only thing alive to him in this world, and even though you are. 🫢

he has the tightest hugs and that's a fact. a hug that brings you back to the brightest place and protects you from every evil in this world while caleb quietly sings your favorite song to you, bringing tears to your eyes. he loves cuddling on your bed where he immediately and falls asleep on your chest.

he loves sleeping with you and waking up with you, as he feels your breath on his skin and smiles again, kissing your face and thinking he wants to wake up like that for the rest of his life. most likely he will sleep on top of you. 🫠 but no one minds because caleb is very warm and will replace any blanket for you!

never quarrels with you and doesn't care what others say. he listens to you and takes your side and then is completely calm to make his point. caleb cherishes you incredibly much and doesn't want to fight about anything, it's useless and too sad, and our baby boy always wants to make you happy.

so, love languages, what are his? most likely the most standard set of love: words, actions, support, and time together. that's what makes caleb happy and you don't have to pick one thing. he speaks many words of love that are absolutely true. always hugs you and kisses you at every moment to see the dimples on your cheeks. supports you in your toughest moments, tears you up when you're sad. and to top it all off, spends almost all of his time with you and wants to capture all the highlights of your life.

he calls you his baby girl and princess! after all, you deserve it. let's just say he's been calling you nicknames since day one of your relationship, he doesn't care. 😭 caleb loves it when you get embarrassed and try to look away, but he catches your chin with his finger and turns you around for a kiss gently purring "baby girl."

#— [ stefie ] 💘🫧🔮#love and deepspace #love and deepspace fluff #love and deepspace rafayel #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace x you #love and deepspace xavier #love and deepspace zayne #rafayel love and deepspace #xavier love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #caleb love and deepspace #love and deepspace caleb #xavier x reader #rafayel x reader #zayne x reader #caleb x reader

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capslocked · 8 months

Text

DIPLOMACY

male reader x kim minju

7k words

For those not paying attention - of which there seems to be an increasing number - it’s not that she doesn’t have the pedigree. But just shy of getting into that storied history or into the nitty-gritty of her curriculum vitae, the only thing that really matters is:

"This all seems a little beneath me."

It’s another day of this. Of you, of her, of trying to gather the mien of someone who isn’t utterly disarmed by Minju’s usual, beautiful, challenging self. Which, let’s be honest, is always an uphill battle.

Minju nearly pouts, flipping through a copy of the dossier idly from the other side of the desk in a gesture that reads both bored and dismissive and every little thing it needs to annoy you.

"Look," you offer up, graciously diplomatic all things considered, "it's about finding the right springboard, to something else more… substantial."

"Or to something else, you know, beneath me." Her red lips turn down ever so slightly. She doesn't seem so interested in playing ball on this one. And, for you, amounts to something of a huge problem.

See, Minju doesn't quite understand how the working world really, actually works. That the carrot that's dangled in front of her is your carrot just as much as it is hers - that you stand to lose out just as badly. That it's both of your asses on the line if things fall apart and Minju's shortsighted insistence to only work those certain roles befitting a name like hers puts that all at risk.

"Maybe you can tell me something,” you start, coming across more curt than you possibly intended - but not by much, “how many of your former cohorts have had their career aspirations line up with reality, Miss Kim?"

“I’m picky, not naive,” she sighs, not missing a beat, and you watch her dark hair cascade gently down her shoulder when she reaches a hand back to unfix her loose ponytail from its hair clip.

“You might see how I can get the two confused.”

“Then spare me the lecture,” says Minju.

Though she says nothing else, an unspoken you already get paid too much for that hangs in the air.

The tricky part is that no matter what else Minju does, her contract has some non-negotiable clauses to them that no talent has before, or will likely get afterwards. Things that cannot be broken. Like the requirement of her making x number of media appearances, and she gets to approve all of them.

Or that her agent's take home comes from a fixed fifteen percent of her gross earnings, with further incentives when her roles hit specific milestones. But with her refusing projects like the ones in the dossier before you, it leaves you in the unenviable position of losing out on your guaranteed fixed income or trying to convince your diva talent to do what it is she ought to be doing.

The truth is that there’s quite a long list of things no one has had the guts to say ‘no’ to yet.

And, well, it's rather simple and obvious when you look at her:

Minju is that particular blend of A-lister gorgeous. The special look that’s all kinds of mesmerizing and magnetizing, in full bloom - that makes you feel like you're suffocating in beauty. Like if she said come here, you would go; the type where a single look is all it takes and then - just like that - she's got your number forever.

Because everything about her is tailored - from her clothes to her perfect porcelain features. And they made her that way for a purpose: to sell records. (Which, that's exactly what they did.) You can hardly blame the people in power over there, wanting what's best, in a position where everyone would kill for a taste, or even just a glimmer of possibility.

"I don't suppose the part of the governor’s neglected wife is capturing your imagination.” You push the dossier closer, and she doesn’t so much as look at it. “It’s this year’s big budget political thriller, a shoo-in for awards.”

“You mean the one who ends up in a lot of very steamy shots on the apartment’s rooftop pool. Maybe I’m mistaken, but you can’t really unshow your tits.”

"This isn't about being above, Miss Kim, it's about being well regarded; it’s about proving you’re easy to work with,” you argue. “We could-"

"Find a better use of my time?" she cuts in, closing the dossier shut. There's a long moment in which she's looking you over, her gaze sizing up every little inch.

"Your big break won't happen just because you ask for it." You grimace a bit, hating to tell it like it is, but not really wanting to just coddle her either. "But listen - we work together, one project at a time - we can build up to it."

Minju crosses her arms with a loud hmph. "And what are you going to do if I decide not to accept these projects?"

There’s enough edge in her voice that it gives you pause.

"If," she says again pointedly, a teasing little grin tugging at her lips.

So - actually, another thing: when you start digging into the details, there’s more problems than just what can be seen at the surface. Which perhaps it’s too reductive, but essentially everything between you and the talent sitting on the other side of your desk is not quite so straightforward. It was never about Minju doing the best she could for either of your careers; it was about Minju making sure her needs were taken care of, no matter what.

Months ago, thanks in part to the way Minju filled out this tiny black excuse of a cocktail dress, and as a compromise of sorts, there’s an uncharacteristic mistake you ended up making. Or two or maybe a couple.

Because there’d been the perfect backdrop - an end of year party, beautiful dresses and suits, lots and lots of champagne, the kind of jovial mood that inspired one drink too many - and then you and her, taking off down one of the hallways, towards the exit.

Of course, you ended up exactly where neither of you should have ever been - where the snow was falling gracefully and melting into the pavement, behind a private accessway at the back of the venue, somewhere dark and dingy and dripping with a smell reminiscent of garbage; somewhere your hands had gripped firm fistfuls of Minju’s waist before you shoved her up against the back of the building.

In short:

You remember how she gasped when her palms hit the brickwork, how you figured you may as well give her everything she wants.

(So what, it was one time, you hear yourself explaining, mildly repentant, and to say that it’s complicated the matter is a massive fucking understatement.)

In the interest of full disclosure, you tell her, “what exactly did you have in mind?”

"That maybe," she hums, tongue flicking out over her lips before she purses them thoughtfully. "You should persuade me a little better."

"And let’s suppose, I don’t do any of that," you persist.

"It'd be a shame, wouldn't it, having such a promising future cut short so early? If word got out. From such a respectable agency too, of all places. Couldn't live with yourself," Minju remarks, leaning forward on her elbows until her eyes are level with your own. “Come to think of it, it’s the kind of thing that could totally, like, end your career.”

But as she sits there, arching that perfect brow again, you don't feel so good about the whole thing. You take another look at her - which, your mistakes start there, if nowhere else - at the girl that is somehow not the airheaded starlet she’s supposed to be. No, she’s calculating. A rarity, though you do know the type: here’s a girl who just happened to take her brains for granted in the years she was pampered by the industry - the same one that fattened on her only to later spit her out. And that thought, the look of cold intellect in her eyes and the slight upward curl at the corner of her mouth, has you frozen just a bit stiff.

She takes a key card from her clutch, and throws it onto the desk in front of you.

“Minju,” you caution, and there’s a taste of danger on each syllable of her name - more of a warning for yourself than you can conceive of it ever being for her.

"I'm only suggesting" - she’s watching you nearly fucking choke, amused - "what's best."

And when the lines get muddied between the two of you, that's exactly the issue. What's best. As though this was always Minju's aim. Maybe you've read it wrong, maybe you've gotten too lost in your own delusions, maybe - maybe, it doesn’t matter -

"For work," she adds, at which point her knee bumps yours playfully beneath the desk, leaving the suggestion open, and the implication unmistakable. "Whatever's required."

Here, you should definitely tell Minju no. Say no. Say: you're a professional, and getting involved with her, romantically, officially, personally - whatever - would lead to nothing but disaster. That’d be the responsible thing probably. It’d be generous to say you end up getting even halfway there:

"There's rules against this, you know."

Minju tips her head. “Why ever would there be rules in place against doing your job?”

She thinks that if she feigns being clueless, you'll bite, which -

“Against me folding you over this desk and fucking you until your forget your name.”

"My apologies," she practically coos, knowing that she’s not only made progress, but that she’s wrapping you around her finger. She is a bright girl after all. “You might see how I can get the two confused.”

At that, you figure, the only real move, to be perfectly blunt, is to play Minju at her own game -

To convince her to bend, just a little. To persuade her. So you lean closer, you start to promise, with your face just next to hers:

"You want me to show you how I might handle an uncooperative talent? Would that do it for you, huh?"

And now if that isn’t enough to earn you a whole look, one that’s equally a challenge and a triumph; you watch as she bites the inside of her cheek, not that she can help the smirk creeping across her pretty mouth, a grin full of want and need and all those dangerous, thrilling thoughts that're probably too predictable given your unique sliver of history you’ve already carved out.

She arches that perfect brow of hers once more, toying with the corner of her lip between her teeth.

You navigate around your desk to hand her your pen, with instructions that are perfectly clear: "then for once in your life, be useful, and sign on the fucking dotted line."

And her whole act falls apart just like that.

She’s humming almost pleasantly to herself as you settle in flush behind her, sinking into you just a little when your hand arrives at her waist, another carding through her hair. “Here,” you point out, watching her name materialize in ink on the document - pressing your lips to the nape of her neck each time she finishes penning out an exaggerated curl of a u.

“And here.”

“And here."

She signs again - and again - and that merits a reward; she’s good when she wants to be. Persuasive when she needs to be.

You can hear her murmur your name when your mouth slips just beneath her jaw, when you mark your next path across the bare skin of her shoulder and when she gets started on the last page of the documents, it happens just like this -

The pen drops from her fingers at some point, tumbling onto the desktop with a clack that might as well be a round leaving the chamber of a starting pistol. The office door isn't even locked and you have half a mind to check on the blinds, but the idea of some desperate executive running face first into this scene - where you’re smoothing your hands down the fabric of Minju’s top, down the rise of her jeans, fiddling slowly with the button at her waist - it holds an unfortunate sort of appeal; those blinds, they're mostly closed anyway. And at this hour of the afternoon, well - maybe it’s a little more clear why Minju asked to reschedule this meeting in the first place.

At first, it’s just a few of your fingers dipping under the waistband of her pants, following the curve of her hip, her thigh, then inward, and when you reach down to find her already burning up in anticipation, she inhales sharp, a noise that makes you groan in turn, low, right into the hollow behind her ear. Minju, to her credit, is absolutely willing, so very helpful and - as you pinch the soft, tender skin at her hip, she's saying something but you haven't quite paid it a moment's mind.

Her head turns, eyes looking up at you ever-so-slightly-more-vulnerable than their usual mischief and calculation, and there’s a hint of a demand dancing on her tongue, ready and waiting; she moves her leg upwards just a few inches, settling to rest her knee on top of the tabletop, a calculated little pose, angling her hips so you can sink your hand lower, closer, press your fingers into the lace over her hot cunt even deeper.

Here you figure you're probably ruining the fabric, drenching it in her own slick as you work two, then three fingertips in tight circles. You’ll ruin it, and you’ll ruin more - ruin everything and take what you're owed. As her breath hitches again, in some way that makes your senses come to life: you can feel her skin become taut and tense, gooseflesh rising when your hand untangles from her hair and slides up under her shirt, can hear the steady rush of blood in your ears, her pulse quickening, the heart in her chest beating rapid -

(She can pretend all she wants that this was an attempt at extortion. She can pretend she’s not an easy read; that she doesn’t like being easy for you, when she’s hot and whimpering and aching so wet, creaming on your fingers when you haven’t even gotten her pants off.)

- as if every part of her wasn't made for this, as you lay out your first real proposal:

“Do you remember what I asked you? The first time, right after you signed on, when you were so good for me up against the bricks in the alley?”

Minju chokes out an affirmative when you toy with her pussy where she’s craving the shape of anything, but, boy, are the rough pads of your fingers more than up to the task.

"I remember you almost couldn't answer, you didn't dare want to admit that it's what you needed - isn't that right?"

She moans with a voice thick as honey when a couple more fingers brush up against her wet lips and fuck, she does look breathtakingly good; she's exquisite, she's irresistible - the image of a living wet dream.

"Say it, baby," you croon, her voice beginning to melt a bit at the edges, her own heat burning her resolve up from the bottom up as you tug sharply at a string on her lace.

Minju sighs. Arches into your touch.

Because you’re settling into this torturous pattern, where you draw inwards, closer, so close to the little bundle of nerves, her cunt flexing and rippling hungrily when your fingers flick once or twice around it, only for her to wince just slightly as your fingers trace down towards her entrance to start all over again -

Minju steels herself, drawing in a heavy breath past her teeth. “You asked how rough you could be.”

There's something so painfully wicked, how her voice falters there - but then your own voice is rasping right back in a similar caliber of depravity.

“Hm. That’s pretty close to how I remember it.” After all, you are always taking care of Minju - her concerns, her contracts, her needs. So if she was interested, why the fuck would you hold back on providing exactly what she wants. “But help me out, what did you tell me?”

Another twist - another catch. Another push - another pull. She's going to break so sweetly if you're patient - and, ahh, patience - she's shuddering underneath your touch, squirming against you so nicely that you've already gotten away with a bit too much, this much, these fingers and you and Minju's breathy gasps.

"M-that you could be. That you could-" she stutters, all as you feel her folds start to swell, then quiver, as your thumb drags painfully over her clit again -

And in that moment Minju starts to consider if this were a good idea or not, but her back is already arching against your chest. She's gripping your arm to get you right where she wants you, and the reality of this hits her - a rush of cold clarity through her head just as everything else threatens to spiral into something else, something frantic, something hot and animal and making the muscles at her core begin to clench up.

But you just ease out of her completely, a whine coming out from the back of Minju's throat - her thighs parting further in desperation.

And oh, the disappointment, the sound, it’s incredible - a high pitch - almost a sob -

You slide your other hand in her hair to make sure she's got an earful of your words:

"What was it you said, hm?" you whisper, nipping at the skin on her neck, the side of her jaw - she's shuddering with it when your mouth lingers so close -

“As rough as you fucking want.”

God, the little things that her voice does to you. “Exactly, sweetheart.”

And how's that boundary supposed to hold up and remain uncrossed then, really, if you just give her whatever the fuck she asks for - especially if you have your mouth working it's way around her pulse-point, toying with her as she starts to tense and soften all at once.

In fact, Minju can only stutter out an okay or two as you grind forward, the hard suggestion of your cock nestling up against her rear, just shy of the perfect spot between her legs, and even with still a few layers of clothes between you, the feeling - fuck, the friction, the sight - it’s enough to get you grinning.

Enough to form this near-half-coherent thought: that it’s what's always had you on edge with this girl. She is absolutely every bit your type. Everything about her, right down to the way that she was put together.

All her hard edges and soft curves that should've never really been yours to covet and now, somehow, have become exactly that. Oh, she's the kind of temptation that's better suited for the life of glitz and glamor and the time it requires for indulging in it. You never thought that you would actually ever get here, even as the years have begun to stack up and time starts to grind everything in the back of your head and turn it all over into something like resentment.

If only Minju weren't so good at making you a sucker for those pouty lips and big doe eyes.

Particularly when she's turned around - face to face now - she's the epitome of gorgeous, equal parts aphrodite and adonis; a fucking knockout, her body sculpted and lithe and athletic. Those lines curving out and away like they might tell time, like her thighs could count the minutes and seconds until she's straddling you in your lap with her ankles locked in at the small of your back and you're rutting up into her without reservation, without doubt.

(So what, really, is your goddamned excuse? Your pride? The nature of the beast in you that demands that you must have some degree of control over yourself? The power that your position, here, now, provides? But you can hardly be blamed, even when it's wrong and filthy and so fucking good.)

"You’re stalling." Minju’s leaning back against the desk, tilting her chin up, blinking lazily, and there’s a bit of bite in her voice again.

It takes a minute for it to dawn on you that it must be intentional, trying to get a further rise out of you, the same way your hands have risen up to trace the dips and elevations of her spine, her every vertebra, your fingertips mapping the hollows and rounds of her back. To learn the geography of her shoulders and where, and when, and how to get her breath catching in her lungs, each labored intake of air a little harsher, hastier, hotter than the last.

"You know," you start, spreading your palm across a soft plane of denim, fingers pulling onto the cheek of her ass, dragging her even tighter against you, "I always figured your reputation was a little overdramatized. Most everyone's bound to have a story or two."

She laughs, full of mirth. When the mood strikes, she's the picture of perfection, and she knows it. "Well? Were you disappointed?"

As she coils an arm around your waist to slide your shirt free from the confines of your pants, and as a deft hand slips its way in, you stop asking yourself about right or wrong, good or bad, or about the kisses that land playfully at the corner of your mouth - until you hold her tight and seize her lips, hard, like you mean it - it isn't long before she's fumbling and scrambling with the zipper at your waist.

"That depends," you’re pulling yourself away long enough to say.

"I think I know the answer."

And by the way she shivers a little when you shove up the bottom of her top, the way she's melting into your mouth and demanding more and more and more, Minju does. You think she probably has since the first night that your threads got all tangled up. Especially when she slides off her top - her bra - her jeans - leaving them in a pile that lasts barely a second where it started once you sweep everything off of your desk in one broad, efficient gesture -

There's a thud when a pair of binders and a couple of books hit the floor. Someone exclaiming in recognition, the muffled noise drifting through the office door, and, oh, this would probably be the best moment to remember how painfully thin the walls are; you consider whether to walk over and lock the office door, and when Minju’s fingers run up your sides, you decide you won’t.

Too little too late, you figure.

And before you can take a second to give it the more congruent thought it deserves, Minju opens her mouth: "which, in your professional opinion," a hum and a slur as her nails find their way to your collar, "is well, that the thing I should take," she gets out, unbuttoning you at the cuffs, loosening the last of your shirt, "really," her hands palming over the fabric on either side of the lapels, working their way downwards, "how - how do you think this goes?"

“Oh, Minju.” She’s all but begging you to fuck her and still has the wherewithal to be asking for terms.

Like her fingers aren’t completely down your pants, locking around your hard cock - pumping you with soft, lazy strokes - not too different from how you have her chewing on her lip every time your fingers circle over the entrance to her cunt, tenting the last of her lace all slow and careful.

It’s driving her crazy. She just bites into the edge of her thumb in response.

"Fine. Alright. Let me explain it clearly." You dip a finger into her cunt; the whimper is short-lived when she tightens around you and it hits home, the pressure so delicious that she can barely stutter to keep up.

“A negotiation, of sorts-”

“Yeah, sure, we can call it that.”

The mental picture you have of your length outlined against Minju's tiny fist - as she works it into her hand, steady - it's all almost more than you can possibly bear: the way her long legs stretch out so pretty in front of you, the way her wrist twists with each pass and every bump at the veins of her forearm that is such a damn perfect shade of porcelain white in the dim glow of the desk lamp.

This girl with her pert pink mouth and those lips, the ones that aren't quite touching yours but rather smirking the whole time. (If only you were to make her scream loud enough, because you know she could be so much prettier.)

The thought flits through your brain, unbidden and treacherous -

"Think, fuck - think of this, as a one-way track into your career. Think of me, a guiding hand - if you want to. The key to all this," you continue, spacing the words carefully so you don't falter under the pace Minju is picking up, "is that you're going to need to be compliant. Easy."

"Mm. And in exchange?" she bites, choking down an embarrassing moan.

"Here's the basics." And there, there's no fucking reason for you not to dip the tips of your fingers right on downwards, tap into her soft heat until her hips are arching away from the flat of the desk, searching for more. “Whenever you need me to take care of you, I’m there, however you need it: on my fingers, my tongue, my cock - I’ll make you fucking cum over and over.”

"That sounds," she gasps, losing track of the end of her sentence, rolling herself along the pads of your fingers, taking them deeper into her, "very-very-oh fuck-”

Her grip around your cock releases, arms throwing themselves around your shoulders, holding on tight as she starts to trust you implicitly - to give her exactly what she wants, what she needs - and give herself over to you, to your fingers, circling and circling and circling.

“See, tomorrow,” you start, “there’s an audition,” and when you pull your finger out of her cunt, Minju lets out this sound that’s between a whimper and a whine. Her pretty mouth has dropped open, like she's all out of words, lost somewhere, chasing this. Getting dire.

“It’s this teen soap; they need someone young, someone pretty, do you think you can do that for me?”

She doesn’t answer so much as grab and tug and pull you even closer as the heel of your hand pushes and presses over her clit, just about enough force behind it that, eventually, you begin to feel a certain rigidity through her limbs, how the lines of her face and her faultless features grow more and more focused, fixed and concentrated; her voice reduced to the high-pitched huffs and half-formed syllables of pure and utter desperation.

I can, I can - she’s murmuring - please, yes, I will - putting herself right into your capable hands.

When you feel Minju tightening, flexing around nothing, then seizing and shivering, her pussy throbbing hot and wet and clenching around your finger as it again works deeper inside her, an anguished groan finds its way out from her throat.

And from yours, well -

"Show up," you command, giving her another knuckle, curling it just right - watching as her expression contorts and twists up for all her worth. "Make a good impression. Don't make me fucking beg. Show up, Unreserved. Understood?"

And if her body wasn't making her pleas utterly transparent, she's screaming in agreement. It takes you barely a couple seconds, working up inside her cunt until she's all full-body, fully, blissfully spent. She starts to nod, needy, eyes screwing shut.

“And let’s say, something else pops up. A little racy, a little more gravure, just the right amount scandalous, I need you to keep an open mind.”

When it sinks in what you've said, Minju gives this wail, low and perfect - her cunt throbbing over the pulse at your palm - inches away from cumming and shaking and creaming on your hand. You could ask for anything, you think, and she’d give it to you -

“My PR team,” she gasps out, the consonants of her words fraying at the seams, “it’s up to my PR team.”

“Minju,” you say, priming a loaded question and a half. “Do you trust me?”

She nods, expression readable and open like a book. It starts to set in just about then, how you’re going to fucking ruin this girl.

Your breath runs hot, right against her temple, and you whisper the slightest affirmation, “good girl, I’ll take care of it.”

Because to be fair, you’ve not made it this long in your career without learning how to pull a string - how you might pull up on the sensitive skin straddling Minju’s clit and get her reeling; her pussy flutters in the tight, wet heat, muscles clamping, demanding as you work yourself in deeper and then, when the timing's right, pull out to slide a second finger past the slip of lace she has covering her cunt.

She's this tight, dripping, overwhelming fit - even more than you have yet to discover, to tease and then take, the heel of your wrist landing on her clit in a heavy pattern, circles - circles - circles -

- so you figure: fuck the PR team.

If only they knew how well and thorough you were going to fuck the rules right out of Minju.

That you were going to remind her who's the one in the driver’s seat of her life, of her career, that you would make sure she stays in her lane - the proper lane - that this, you think to yourself, might become a recurring sort of negotiation, the kind she's so shockingly eager to accept.

You'd be doing her a favor, fucking a couple good lines into her head, into her skin, into her cunt.

And soon, before long -

She's gritting her teeth around the shape of your name and giving one last heave against the hard wood of the desk underneath her. It's almost beautiful to watch how Minju crumbles into herself; the way she grinds back onto the digits in her cunt. How you’re dragging her underwear down her thigh, pulling your cock into your fist and twisting her leg around your waist until finally, you press yourself right up against the heat radiating from her cunt.

“I’m going to take good care of you, Minju, don’t worry, I’ll fuck this pussy of yours just right. I'm going to make you shake and cum all over me.”

“Please.” Fuck, she looks at you sincerely - no games, no bullshit - pupils so very blown out with want, with need. You watch her adorable mouth uptick into this faint lazy smile as she tilts her head into your collarbone, lips parting slightly to remind you: “as rough as you fucking want-”

And you sink right in.

It’s all skin-on-skin as Minju practically collapses in your arms; pushing deep past her soaking entrance - your hips slotting together just so, cock engulfed by her tight heat. Minju fucking wails when you drag back from her cunt, slow - so, so agonizingly slow.

You let her recover just a bit, watching her breathing quicken and shallow.

And the word on her lips becomes something reverent, the most indecent prayer, pleading please, please, please let me have it, please fuck me with your cock-

You brace yourself, thrusting back in, and she doesn't wince this time, holding fast to you like you aren’t the one fucking her open and taking her apart.

“God, I - look, this perfect little fucking cunt, look at how you’re stretching around me, Minju,” you’re telling her - promising her really - all of which doesn't count for shit when, once, and then again, and a couple more times after that, your hips meet hers and she starts to break just so slightly around you. “I can’t believe - it’s like you were fucking made for my cock, baby, you’re taking me so fucking well.”

"Now, show me why - why the fuck everyone wants you - wants you to be their-" she's trying, in a fashion all to her credit and her fault. She should probably care more about that raw, unhinged noise you’re making right into the crook of her neck when you bury yourself deeper into her pussy. But in the next moment, with another wild crash of your hips, the tables start to turn.

Slowly at first, and then all at once.

Because the sound you’re ripping from her chest when you start fucking her - truly fucking her - becomes far, far filthier than anything you've ever heard a girl like her make. All of it coaxed out from you working the edge of her pussy open, stretching her, hitting each and every sensitive spot inside her.

Minju tips her head back to stare at the popcorn ceiling and fluorescent lights, brow creasing in the middle, mouth gaping open. You find you might have missed something, when she moves to hold you down, hold you in place with an insistent leg, the back of her heel digging into your ass. As though there were somewhere you might possibly want to go.

It all comes down to something she's murmuring, quietly, harboring this smug lilt like you aren’t fucking her raw and senseless: how maybe the key to unlocking the rest of her potential isn’t all that dissimilar, not as off-brand as you may have been initially worried about. And the notion that both of you might actually be profiting off of this - how it shouldn’t sound as incredible as it does - is doing absolutely fucking nothing to slow the brutal pace you fall into.

"Fuck, just like that," and she's smiling, grinning really, nails biting into your nape - your name and curses and a fuck you or two falling out of her mouth as you pound each short breath right out of her chest.

"The only talent I'm gonna need to show," she manages, dizzy, and with one arm hooking around your waist, she pulls the two of you close, right up against each other. The sound your skin makes, clapping against hers - her cunt tight, pulsing, quivering around you - "is my, my, my-"

Your thumb should have never left her clit, you realize, pressing down on where your cock is disappearing between her legs, pushing up against that bundle of nerves that can get her screaming. That’s how you’ll punctuate your end of the bargain, how you’ll make her cum and cum and cum -

"-talent for being such a-"

There's something ungovernable in you, something fumbling, as you find yourself drawn to her lips like a magnet - claiming them in a kiss that has you both growling with all the intensity you can muster, groaning as her jaw goes slack, surrendering to the fucking. To this hard, solid snap of your hips, a raw fuck forward that pushes Minju against the edge of the tabletop.

It doesn’t matter what she had wanted to say, though it must be evident how easy she can wind you up, and you do your best not to be too gentle. Pushing into her so rough that her breasts, oh-so-delicate, bounce up and down along her chest, nipples tight and rosy, begging to be tasted and played with.

You’re pressing your mouth on hers hard, fucking her harder - fingers digging into the flesh around her thighs and leaving marks and memories, all these reminders you’ll be sure to come back to.

But the fact is that this is your girl in so many ways: needy and a dream in all her curves, and how her waist rocks back, her body fitting so perfectly against yours - you're hooked on all of it. On her - she is temptation made real, in blood and bone and soft, supple skin, so exquisitely touchable, just like the sound that she makes, high and tittering when your thumb starts to work her clit over; each swirl and figure eight sending a jolt through her nerves and straight back into your own spine. It's difficult - hard to focus, you find - when all her exposed skin has these drops of sweat standing in saltwater relief, how it rolls down the plane of her chest and disappears where her waist flares wide.

Minju turns her cheek, mouthing falling open, and asks with a certain helpless pleading, “yes, can you-”

she sighs,

“right there,”

she hiccups,

“please, again,”

she begs,

“again, harder, i’m so close-”

Not before long, the desk is scraping loudly across the carpet, moving right into the next office over, all from where you have your hand trapping her voice back in her throat, palm over where she’s practically sobbing for you to let her cum.

From where you’ve got her locked in tight, lifting her up into your arms, into some perverse, unspoken promise to carry her the rest of the way. To do with her whatever you want.

"I'm going to show you," you're gritting out, "exactly how a professional handles their star, the girl at the center of it all, their top draw - and it's so easy, isn't it? This is - fuck, sweetheart - you're nothing more than a - just a desperate little cockslut who's aching to cum, and it's good - oh so, fucking-"

When that next shiver courses down the length of her perfect form, it's entirely because of you, when her legs are still locked and clamped over you like this, as she sputters and babbles, totally cock-addled and barely managing a coherent thought. “Please, sir, please, fuck-”

And then a keening, sounding low, lost.

“Sir. Please, sir, please just - I just wanna-" Her lips are shaping all these words that never quite materialize - because her cunt is slick, the whole of it hotter and softer than anything else in this goddamn room. Maybe anything else in this whole building. Or in the entire world. It makes her whimper and ache, her voice rising and rising, belting out, need it, need it, please let me cum -

Which -

Minju, oh god, Minju cums, and you are fucked sideways to hell and beyond when her whole body convulses, shakes, every single part of her contracting, contracting - all at once - the way her hands claw desperately onto the blades of your shoulders as the room gets taken up with the scent of her; the sounds she's making are fucked and filthy. She starts to become undone as you double your pace, aiming true - thrusting, pounding, nailing Minju right into the finish.

“Minju, sweetheart, I’m going to cum in you,” you tell her, and it’s not even a question, or a concern. You’re dictating, not negotiating when you say it to her again, when you tell her you’re going to fill her perfect pussy so full with your cum, she'll be hung up on it for weeks.

One long, stretched out moan is all it could ever take; a split second, where everything runs blindingly hot, and you bury yourself as deep into her pussy as you possibly can.

Cumming so much, spilling out deep inside - this heavy flood of cum that pools warmly at the back of her cunt and fills every corner of Minju - she whines and sobs and tells you it's too much, please, all this hot and thick white cum pumping right into her -

As you throb into her, she's having a hard time saying anything beyond your name, actually, because if anyone can, if anyone would, if Minju can trust anyone and anything in this world more, it would be you.

Her chest shudders and shudders, and she kisses you in a vain effort to quiet her own body, to quiet yours. She has all this faith she's pouring right down your throat as you rock the last of your orgasm into her twitching heat, spilling and spilling and spilling, not caring about the wetness leaking onto the carpet. Not bothering to mask the obscene slickness, how everything gets completely fucking sopping between the two of you.

When she's practically drooling over you, eyelids growing heavy and fluttering, Minju sags heavily into the bend of your arms. In that shallow heaving and gasping for air that bathes the both of you - blissed the hell out, a lazy tangle of limbs - and without warning she turns to speak into your neck, her breath cooling, like a whisper of a dream:

“Okay, and already… I guess this isn’t entirely-”

“Completely terrible,” you offer after you swallow the dryness in your mouth.

Minju smiles into your shoulder. “And sir, in the spirit of honesty and transparency, I think I - I think I really did want - this - you - the entire thing…”

You stop her there, right in the middle of that particular train wreck. A drop in your voice, and the message is clear, when your mouth works its way to hers.

(No more of her talking like that.

Besides, she looks even better on your lips like this, and fuck, doesn’t Minju taste like you will have to remember, like a little bit like desperation, but only in the way that it has you both completely hopeless, hanging on to every whimper as your cock slides lazily about her well-fucked pussy, a bit deeper, a bit further.)

Like there is something far beyond professionalism guiding the hand with which you hold her hip and let her ass spill through the gaps of your fingers.

It’s all mixed up, how in this exact moment you figure this is a terrible, terrible idea, the worst kind of agreement, this pact - because no one could look at you, could look at either of you and have any doubts in mind now. But you can see it, how you’ll both wear this little agreement like the most beautiful stain in your histories. Even though it might, conceivably, cost one or both of you dearly at some point in time.

And yet, still.

"Will you - can I - can you..."

She's clinging onto you with all her remaining energy, like she wants to see it through.

But her eyes - the poor thing - her expression is melting into this haze, her face contorted in something like pain and something else entirely: a different kind of satisfied glimmer. It's almost unreadable how that sharp mouth softens at the edges as her cunt gives this small flutter over the head of your cock, as you pump her so full, threatening to overflow.

And in your ear, you catch this little whisper. It says, “please, let me show you,” she's practically purring, “let me, let me - I'm gonna clean you up now, lick my cum right off you.”

It's true. Minju can act and perform and pose and make faces, for a shit ton of people - but she’ll play-act any facade you might ask her to, and she'll do it for you - because, this time around, all you ask her is this:

To be yours.

To be a good girl for you, an obedient little thing, in your private audience, away from the cameras and the lights, away from everyone.

When her knees hit the carpet, she is perfectly between your legs, palms on your hips and fingers splaying out against you.

And when she tries her damnedest like this, no one should bother ever pretending to think differently - least of all, you - and certainly, not while your cock is hardening again in the wet heat of her mouth, under the curl of her tongue, the gentle touches of her fingers -

How can anyone ever bring themselves to tell her that she isn't completely, indisputably the greatest.

(The very, fucking best.

And in every other way: the woman of your dreams. A woman, you realize, you ought to endeavor to keep, in all manners, and forever.

Minju, who could probably do anything, and you, who just might be able to give it to her.)

#minju smut #izone smut #kpop smut #male reader #kpop fanfic #male reader smut #izone minju smut

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silversodas · 2 months

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I Think There Are Actual Hints That Vox and Alastor Work Really Well Together or More Like They Have All They Need to Work Together

So we know that Vox and Alastor like to define each other by how their preferred medium is better, but what’s interesting is that’s just how they define each other, Alastor being an old fashioned radio and Vox being a sell out TV, but that’s not what they are, what they are is Audio and Video. We even see when one might have done better with the others help, like Alastor’s commercial that he did for the hotel

His Audio was fine enough, got your attention, but holy shit, the video was awkward at best, it makes you uncomfortable watching it. And it makes it even more awkward when you can tell Alastor is overcompensating with his voice. But what he did know was a little impressive, some people pointed out that he probably did the editing himself. I believe that these out of place skills such as summoning tech and knowing how it works are remnants of Vox. Just like How Vox is always Smiling when he needs to take control of a situation is remnants of Alastor

They probably learned these things from each other. As a matter of fact the way Alastor kept jumping from scene to scene in the commercial was similar to how Vox kept jumping from visual to visual in the beginning of stayed gone, going vary fast to keep attention. Speaking of which

Stayed Gone is an example where Vox is really strong in visuals, buuuuut probably needed a little help audio wise

Alastor knows how to lure you in with what you hear, Vox pulls you in with what you see, and yeah he snatches your attention right away and (like I said earlier) jumps from visual to visual and you can’t help but be transfixed

Buuuuutt that’s Vox’s problem, they are just watching, his audience can’t even grasp what the fuck he is trying to say because Vox is overcompensating with visuals, and it’s how Alastor verbally slaughtered him in stayed gone. Alastor is so charismatic and experienced with capturing an audience with his voice alone that Vox immediately loses his.

Because, just like how Audio can’t do all the work, neither can video, and one can’t overcompensate for the other, they need to flow together

But I have noticed this a while back, what made me think that they probably work really well together, or rather they have all they need to work together, is what @cringefailvox said about the different outfits that characters like Vox and Alastor wear during songs that have symbolism to it

Like how Vox always dresses as roles that are the leader or face of an organization Bishop/TV Chef/Captain. Roles that have power, but are at the whims of many people and need the approval of said people to stay in power

While Alastor is dressed in more subservient roles Nun/Busboy, roles that are essential to run the organization but often go unnoticed, but can pull the rug out from under said organization if they decide to leave. In other words, it might be symbolic that he is a support (until he decides to take it away)

So Vox being the front runner and presenter basically being everything you see (Which is ironic because Vox means The Voice) and Alastor providing support and stability (he honestly doesn’t do to bad with support, stability is up for debate though) is another way they, in theory, could make a good team.

But the team up would work just like audio and video unfortunately, video is not the most important part, but it’s the part that gets the most credit. while audio emphasis and supports video, it’s part goes unnoticed until it’s not there. And Alastor’s ego has an ass so fat it’s aw inspiring that he can fit it through the door, so that may have been ONE of the reasons he said no to joining Vox (not saying it’s the only reason or even main one)

Vox may even see the potential for exactly what their partnership could be and it’s a reason why he took it so personally when Alastor shot him down

And it’s just so interesting that Vox and Alastor act like forces that should be pitted against each other but their capabilities show that they would go together like peanut butter and chocolate (in theory)

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel vox #alastor #vox #hazbin hotel analysis

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unclewaynemunson · 7 months

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Yall voted for the sober version of this premise so here ya go:

Steve doesn't know exactly what he had expected kissing Eddie would be like, but it sure as hell wasn't this. He would've expected something rough and raw, bared teeth and maybe fingers pulling at his hair. But what he gets instead is something infinitely soft, something resembling tenderness... It makes it all the more difficult for him to pull back.

“What's wrong, Stevie?” Eddie asks after one look at Steve's face.

“I need to tell you something,” Steve manages to choke out.

And Eddie wraps his arms all around him, pulling him closer until his head is lying right against Eddie's beating heart. That heartbeat, steady and reassuring, is all he focuses on while he talks.

“Remember last summer? The mall fire that wasn't really a mall fire?”

“You finally gonna tell me what happened there?” Eddie says. It doesn't sound accusatory, just curious and a little confused as to where this is headed.

“I don't really like to talk about it,” Steve confesses. He closes his eyes, flashes of what happened back then floating to the surface of his mind again.

“We – Robin and I – we were captured by Russian soldiers. They tied us up and interrogated us for hours. They thought we were spies, so they tried to get us to give up information. They hit me.” He pauses to take a breath. “They hurt me real bad, Eddie. Until I was bleeding all over. Until I lost consciousness and Robin thought I was dead. The only reason we survived is because they thought we would have useful information for them.”

“Jesus Christ, Steve...”

Eddie's grip around him tightens, but Steve lifts his head up and makes a half-hearted attempt to crawl away from him. The hardest part has yet to come.

“I really, really like you, Eddie,” he says. “But I can't do this with you.”

Confusion flashes over Eddie's features: his eyes widen and the lines around his lips become deeper. But he still doesn't loosen his grip.

“What do you mean?”

“It's the –“ Steve clears his throat. “I know what it means, the – your hanky. I got a cousin in New York who knows all about that shit, they send me magazines sometimes when my parents aren't home. I'm sorry, Eddie, but I can't do that, like, ever. It's only gonna make me relive that shit from last year. There's no way I can ever give you what you need, so it wouldn't be fair to...” He trails off, not quite knowing how to finish that sentence.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Eddie still looks as confused as ever.

“Your hanky,” Steve uselessly repeats. “You're flagging, aren't you? You're into, like, hurting people, right?”

Steve watches how Eddie's jaw drops, almost in slow motion.

“This?” he asks, grabbing behind him and taking the black piece of fabric, covered in skulls, out of his back pocket.

Steve nods.

Eddie laughs, but it sounds fake and on edge, quickly dying out again. “Steve. This is a metal thing. It looks badass, y'know. I literally have no idea what you're – flagging?”

A gasp escapes Steve's lips and he feels his heartbeat speed up with something that must be hope.

“Are you serious?”

Eddie nods, his brows still furrowed and that endearingly confused look of I-have-no-clue-what-the-hell-is-going-on not leaving his eyes.

It feels like Steve's heart is starting to run laps in his chest, now. He can barely suppress the laughter that's bubbling up inside of him.

“What the hell are you trying to tell me, Steve?”

He grabs the hanky that's still in Eddie's hand.

“I thought you were flagging,” he weakly explains. “It's like a code. To signal what you like to do, y'know, in the bedroom. The black, it means – I thought you were into, like, BDSM shit. Things I can't do: being tied down, getting hurt...”

“Why the hell would I get off on hurting you, Stevie?”

It sounds so ridiculously innocent and horrified: Eddie the freak, Eddie the scary metalhead – Eddie who is genuinely shocked at the suggestion that he had in any way created an image for himself in which it made sense that he'd be into pain.

“I mean, if you would, I wouldn't wanna judge you or whatever,” Steve is quick to say. “You'd be surprised how many people are into that shit, I'm not here to shame anyone. But if you aren't... I'm really fucking relieved, man.”

He still vividly remembers what happened when he was dating Daphne, who had once taken his wrists in her hands and pinned them down on the mattress above his head while she was on top of him. Or when he was with Melissa, who had half-jokingly slapped his ass one time when things were getting heated between them. Anything restricting his movements, anything unexpected, could make him lose his shit now, as he had had to find out the hard way. It had made him believe that he could never actually have Eddie, that that would be asking too big of a sacrifice of either one of them, an impossible kind of compromise, no matter how much they liked one another. But instead, here he is, with Eddie looking at him with the softest look in his eyes, actually having talked about his shit before they even got up to anything more than kissing.

So he tells him, stumbling his way through the words, about his experiences with Daphne and with Melissa. And Eddie listens to him patiently, his big eyes never once leaving Steve's, nodding as if he's mentally taking notes of what to do and what not to do.

“We can take it as slow as you need to,” Eddie tells him when he's finished, his voice sincere and reassuring.

“It's not about taking it slow,” Steve assures him. “It isn't about not being ready. It's more about...” He pauses to think. “It's about trust. I trust you.”

Eddie's hands, that are still wrapped around Steve's torso, tighten for a moment and he blinks rapidly a few times. He looks overwhelmed by Steve's words.

“Okay,” he finally says, a little bit more hoarse than before. “So if it's about trust, can I trust you to tell me whenever something I do is bringing back unwanted memories?”

Steve nods. “Yeah, I can do that.”

It's always been difficult for him to talk about what happened that day underneath the mall. But he realizes he has already done the difficult part: Eddie already knows about the memories he is carrying with him. That must make it easier to talk about it in case it will ever be necessary.

Soft lips press against his temple and he drops his head back on Eddie's chest.

“Good,” says Eddie. The sound of his voice vibrates through Steve's whole body; he doesn't think there's anything more comforting than being completely wrapped up in Eddie like this.

A hand lands in his hair and starts stroking through it softly.

“Thank you for telling me this,” Eddie mumbles. “That couldn't have been easy.”

In return, Steve wants to thank Eddie for being as sweet and understanding as he has been, but the exhaustion of having this talk is washing over him in big, heavy waves. So he merely hums and lets his eyes fall shut.

“You wanna stay the night?” Eddie asks. “We don't have to do anything right now – we can go straight to sleep, how does that sound?”

Steve nuzzles his head further into Eddie's chest. “Sounds good,” he murmurs. He can't imagine ever wanting to sleep on his own again.

#don't mind me rambling about stranger things #thought i'd finally put in my own 2 cents about them hanky debate #if you even care #seriously have fun with your hc's however you like but #let's address the trauma here alright #and let them be unbearably soft #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #fanfic #fruity ficlet

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shanastoryteller · 7 months

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tony gets kidnapped on his way to a business meeting or something and he goes with it because they’re in a pretty crowded area and he doesn’t want some innocent bystanders getting hurt in the scuffle. the team will notice eventually and his overprotective boyfriend captain american is going to 1. notice very quickly and 2. freak the fuck out, so he’s not really risking much here

also these kidnappers are sort of stupid and he’s not really worried about escaping later. except even though they’re stupid they mention things about the avengers and shield that they really shouldn’t know so tony decides to stick around to see if he can figure out if they lucked into hacking past his security (not likely) or if there’s some sort of mole

except the leader and the underlings get in an argument right in front of him because apparently they were supposed to capture captain america, not iron man, and the guy who grabbed him is like no, no, this is better! we have his boyfriend so we can lure him here instead!

meanwhile tony is just stating in disbelief that these idiots manage to string two thoughts together. there has to be mole. or someone else really in charge. or something.

and the leader is like fine whatever. he takes tony’s phone and opens the contacts and snorts, “this is what you have him saved us? pathetic”

tony looks at the contact labeled <3 <3 love of my life light in the dark wind beneath my wings <3 <3 and is sort of glad he’s gagged so he can’t say anything

he still doesn’t really know what’s going on and jarvis is still trying to hack their system an there’s no harm in sticking around a little longer since these people are. you know. idiots

except approximately fifteen minues later rhodey is busting down the wall and taking out all these guys in thirty seconds flat and tony slips out of the ropes that he’d undone about five minutes after being put into them (thanks nat) and pulls down the gag and says, “i thought you were on radio silence on a mission in ghana”

“i thought you could be trusted on your own, so it looks like we’re both wrong,” rhodey says. “what were you playing at?”

“i would have told you not to come if i’d known you’d get the message,” he protests. “i was working an angle here, okay, jarvis are you into their systems yet?”

“yes,” his trusty ai says from his phone from one of the kidnapper’s pockets. “tracing the origin of their financial backer now.”

“you really didn’t have to stay kidnapped for jarvis to do that,” rhodey points out, brushing him off and checking him for injuries.

tony shrugs. “i didn’t want to risk one of them getting away and tipping them off. take care of them i could. do it before they got a signal out without the suit? maybe not.”

this very reasonable discussion is interrupted by the rest of the avengers coming in swinging and then left blinking except for steve who feels the need to fuss over him while tony whines and complains and pretends he doesn’t love it

he says they were after steve anyway, he was just bait and steve frowns and is like well, why didn’t they try and contact me then? we knew something was wrong because of the stark industries security footage

and natasha, the sneak, has picked tony’s phone from the kidnapper’s pocket. he lunges for it but she skips back from him and says, “well it looks like they tried. they just messaged the wrong person”

steve takes the phone and sees the contact name and that the kidnappers sent the message we have your boyfriend and if you don’t do exactly what we say you’ll never see him again and is like. this is what rhodey is saved as in your phone?? what am i??

“look, the things is, it’s not like i actually use anyone’s contact, or look at it, i just tell jarvis who to call, so you really shouldn’t take this personally,” tony says.

steve types in his own number and stares in disbelief. “captain? i’m saved in your phone as CAPTAIN?”

“okay well when you gave me your number we weren’t dating and also you were being very mean to me at the time, so,” he says, resisting the urge to hide behind rhodey because he doesn’t think that will help

steve turns his gaze to rhodey. “what is tony saved as in your phone?”

“i really don’t think that’s relevant,” he answers, looking back at the hole in the wall like he’s considering flying out of it.

“jarvis, what’s tony saved as in rhodey’s contacts?” steve asks.

tony says, “j, don’t-“

“sir is saved in colonel rhodes’s contacts as baby,” jarvis answers.

clint is laughing so hard he’s going to break a rib. natasha raises an eyebrow, which is about the same thing

steve’s face is pure betrayal

“it’s because he’s an infant,” rhodey says, “and very needy and he throws up on me a lot.”

“hey!” tony scowls. “i haven’t done that in years!”

“and when you were texted about your boyfriend being kidnapped, you just knew it was tony?” steve asks.

rhodey shrugs. “well, who else would it be?”

even steve doesn’t have an answer to that

“it’s purely platonic,” tony says reassuringly, “carol would scratch my eyes out.”

steve scowls and sulks until tony changes his contact name

except now he’s in tony’s phone as captain handsome. he tells himself it’s an upgrade

#this popped into my head and now you all have to suffer #avengers #fandom ficcery

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sanjifucker42069 · 7 months

Text

Buzz Buzz - Sanji x Reader NSFW

Girl........I am down bad.

Word Count: 7,200 words!?!? Girl what the fuck.... This is self-indulgent af.

Sanji finds something of yours that you really would've preferred to keep private. But maybe it wasn't all bad?

Warnings; NSFW MDNI. cis!fem reader, sorry 'bout that, Both Sanji and reader are incredibly awkward, self-conscious, and like one-upping each other, plus size!reader, vibrators, no p in v soz lol. 100% this was written with pre-timeskip anime Sanji in mind, love that cringefail malewife energy. Surprisingly switches all round...also yes I know those with dicks have a refractory period...I just don't care lol

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You had barely made it inside the women’s room when you caught the ship’s cook. He was crouched, holding something small and looking befuddled. What was that? Wait! No, how did he find that!?

"Sanji! Put that down!" You screamed, face on fire.

Sanji shot to his feet, looking terrified at the prospect of being caught, and yet, he still periodically eyed the implement in his hand, making no move to abandon it.

"What is it?" The question sounded innocent, but you knew the flirt was just trying to get a rise out of you. Unfortunately you're only human, and Sanji always seemed to bring out the worst of it.

"You know EXACTLY what that is!" You hissed, trying to lunge for it. Sanji side stepped you with ease. With fire in your eyes, you quickly captured his wrist, backing him against the wall. Sanji blinked at you blankly. His questioning look stopping you in your tracks. "You...you don't know what that is, do you?"

You wanted to faint when Sanji shook his head. What the hell did he mean? You were sure if any of the men on board knew what that was, it would be the perverted cook. With a blush you stared him down.

"It's a massager."

"Oh my dear, you should come to me, I'd gladly rub your stress away."

You honest to gods squealed at that. Recovering, you caged the man in between you and the wall, fist resting next to his head. Your eyes burning as you sized him up. "Are you fucking with me Black Leg?"

"No, I would gladly give you a massage! My hands may be for cooking, but for you my dear, I'll make an exception. Maybe I could use it some time?"

If your face got any redder you would faint. Spitting out a growl, you regarded the man with a sneer. How dare that asshole make fun of you? "You fucking pervert."

Sanji jumped, clearly offended. "How?! I was only offering a shoulder massage. I don't have any ulterior motives, chef's honour."

"It's a personal massager, Sanji." You gritted out. The blonde stared down at you, confusion evident. Gods he was so stupid sometimes! A growl ripped from your throat. "It's a vibrator. A sex toy. I use it to cum."

The velvety soft bullet clattered to the ground. Darting your eyes up, you took in the frozen man. Sanji was growing redder at a rapid pace. He squeaked out something unintelligible. You watched the blush spread down his neck, blooming beautifully. Huh, he really didn't know what it was.

"Oh." He managed. "You...uh...a toy?"

"I have needs Sanji." You deadpanned, pulling away. You didn't miss how he sighed in relief at your retreating form. Man, fuck him! It's not like you left it out in the open for anyone to find it!

"And you...you use it?"

"Well duh...it's not for decoration." You crossed your arms over your chest, feeling uncomfortable at the way he looked at you incredulously. "Look now that we've got that explained, can you piss off and let me wallow in my embarrassment?"

Sanji didn't budge, still looking at you with that odd look on his face, like he didn't quite understand. It caused anger to burn brighter in your chest. You snatched the vibrator off the floor, causing Sanji's eyes to widen. With a huff you stomped to your bed, flopping face down onto it.

"Miss (Name)?" Sanji asked quietly. You ignored him, trying to suffocate yourself with your pillow. This was humiliating. Why the hell did you have to like Sanji of all people? "Look, (Name), I was just surprised is all-"

You snapped at him from your hiding spot. "We don't all chase the first pretty thing we see to get relief Sanji! Some of us have to take care of our own business."

"Wh-what?"

All you were doing was digging yourself a deeper hole, but you didn't care. "I saw how disgusted you looked. I didn't ask you to find it. You can go tell the crew how pathetic I am! Oh, (name) can't get anyone to look at her like that, how sad. Poor thing, having to rely on something like a toy. Hahaha! Never mind there's never any stupid privacy on this stupid ship. A-and I can have the urge too! So don't look at me like that! I haven't had sex since I got on this godforsaken ship, so excuse me for getting something to help."

You were purely catastrophising, clear that anxiety had gotten the best of you. Sanji would never be that cruel. You weren't sure when, but judging on how damp your pillow was, you had been crying for some time. Well that's embarrassing. Sanji was the last person you wanted to cry in front of.

The bed creaked from extra weight, causing you to wince. You tried desperately to make yourself smaller, to shy away from the man. Instead you felt his large hand pat the small of your back. You jumped in surprise, causing the hand to falter. It began rubbing small soothing circles, You sighed.

"Why aren't you leaving? I asked you to piss off."

There was a pause. Then you heard Sanji speak. It was faint, unsure of what to do.

"And leave a lady to cry alone? I don't think so." You scoffed. "If it makes you feel better-"

"Look I'm sorry for crying-"

"I think it's hot."

You stiffened. Sanji felt you go rigid beneath his touch. The silence grew suffocating, You whipped your head to meet his gaze, eyes wide.

"Fucking excuse me?"

Sanji looked embarrassed, ducking to avoid your questioning eyes. The hand on your back spasmed. "I didn't think it was pathetic...thought it was hot...And I don't think it's true that no one shows you interest-"

That drew a callous laugh from you. "Oh please. You and I both know I'm not drop dead gorgeous like Nami or Robin. You've seen the attention I get from men. You don't look like me and not see the way men avoid you like the plague."

The hand on your back tightened into a fist. grabbing the back of your top. You tried to twist to lie on your back but the hand held you in place. Sanji's voice was dark, an unspoken threat dangling in the air. "Excuse me?"

"C'mon Ji, it's cute you're trying to cheer me up but look at me! You think I'm the kinda girl that has men lining up out the door to fuck? I know how I look, it's why I got this back in Loguetown. Don't need to scare anyone off this way." You waggled the vibrator, laughing.

Sanji clearly did not like the way you were talking about yourself, if the way he quickly flipped you onto your back was any indication. You squealed in alarm, feeling the hard mattress dig into your back. He hovered over you, caging you under him, his legs on either side of your plush thighs. You gulped.

"Are you serious?" He snarled. You stared up at him, his eyes were burning with anger, lips drawn into a frown. You protested weakly.

"Sanji, c'mon man. I know its your whole philosophy that every woman is beautiful, and all that, but let's be real here-"

"Yeah?" He breathed out, daring you to continue. You raised an eyebrow at him.

"You don't have to act like I'm attractive Sanji. When we were in Alabasta you literally tried to cover me up with your jacket after I wore that stupid dancer costume."

The man above you blanched. "Oh (name), you thought I-"

"Was disgusted? Yeah? I don't blame you, it couldn't have been a pretty sight."

"Will you stop that!?" He growled. You froze.

"Wait, you're actually mad?"

Sanji scoffed. "Mad? I'm furious. Who the hell told you you aren't breathtaking?"

"Wh-what? I'm not! I don't need explicit words to see that people don't see me that way. Whenever we go out, it's always men fawning over Nami and Robin, and rightfully so, they're hot. If we need to distract someone? It's always Nami being sexy. You do it too. Nami shows a little skin? You're wagging your tongue like a stray dog. I show a bit of skin? You look like you're in physical pain. What about that day on the deck when we were sunbathing? Nami and Robin had hyped me up to try a bikini. I'd never worn one before. When you saw me in a swimsuit, you couldn't get out of there fast enough, like the mere sight of me hurt you. Haven't worn one since."

"I was in pain." Sanji spat. "I was fucking hard."

What?

You gasped. "What?"

Sanji's face was a dark red, his ears burning, but he held your gaze, looking furious. If looks could kill you'd be nothing but ash under him. "I was fucking hard." He repeated. "I had no idea you were going to be there half-naked. Had to get out of there quick before anyone saw."

You opened your mouth to speak, but Sanji wasn't done.

"And in Alabasta? I tried covering you because I realised it was a mistake. That I wanted to be the only one to see you like that. And I wasn't lying when I said you having a vibrator was hot! I was in shock at the thought of you using it. I don't think it's pathetic. I think me having to fucking jack off in the bathroom because you bent over in front of me, or made those noises enjoying my food, or I watched you kick some guy's ass, is pathetic. Why can't you understand that you're sexy?"

Sanji took in you under him, chubby cheeks a bright red. Your eyes were wet with unshed tears. His eyes softened. "I'm sorry I ever made you think you weren't gorgeous."

"But..." You started, clearly flustered. "Nami and Robin?"

"Are beautiful, yes. But they aren't you."

"But...you really think I'm pretty?"

"Pretty? Darling I think you're so fucking hot you've made me cum in my pants like a boy more than once."

"Really?!" Your eyes were sparkling. That was a welcome change, Sanji mused. He would gladly embarrass himself tenfold, if it meant you'd see yourself how he saw you.

"Yeah. Once was not long after we met. You wanted a sparring partner. I thought you were gonna go easy on me, and I wasn't gonna fight back. You were vicious. It was hot." He tried to shrug in his current position. "If you remember you got me in a headlock between your thighs."

"I thought you slunk away because you were upset I hurt you? You made that whimpering noise and looked in pain."

"I do not whimper!" He protested weakly. "I 'slunk away' because I came."

"Oh."

"So I can assure you, I'm a pervert for you too, especially you."

"I think of you when I masturbate!" You blurted out.

It happened quickly. Sanji's eyes grew wide, his breath hitched. You watched as his forearms shook.

Then he lost his balance.

You'd love to say he fell head first into your tits, moaning in pure bliss. But that only happens in romance books.

No. He headbutted you by accident, flopping directly on top of you like a dead fish. The two of you hissed in pain. Your head throbbed. Motherfucker. For a scrawny bastard he sure was heavy, clearly all muscle, you mused. All muscle, including the very firm one that was poking you in the hip.

"Are you fucking hard?" You hissed. Sanji propped himself up with one hand by your side, the other rubbing his forehead.

"Of course I'm hard." He hissed back. "You just told me you masturbate to me. I'm assuming you're using that stupid toy."

"It's not stupid!" You defended. "It can pack quite a punch."

"You could have used me, darling?" He offered halfheartedly, masking his nerves with a fake smile.

You shot him a wry grin back. "Oh that was smooth. Unless you can magically vibrate-"

"I could do better."

"You could let me use it on you." Hmph. Cheeky. Sanji felt faint at the implications. His cock twitched against you. You widen your eyes at him in interest. "Oh? Would you like to try it?

"I'd rather try you, thank you."

You laughed honestly. Sanji felt the air knocked out of him when you caged him in with your legs, ankles crossing to dig in his back. He shuddered as you dragged him deeper against you, a dangerous look in your eyes. Sanji loved you, honestly. But sometimes he wanted nothing more than to make you feel as nervous as he did. Mustering all his charm he winked at you.

"So you masturbate to the thought of me?"

Oh that did it. Red bloomed deliciously from your cheeks, your ears, down to where your neckline began. Sanji felt his cock twitch eagerly, pride filling him. You diverted your gaze in embarrassment, puffing out your cheeks. Cute.

"And if I do?"

"That's cute." He grinned, You scowled up at him. He felt your thighs tighten around him. "Oh, I affect you that much, hm?"

Sanji couldn't help the involuntary squawk that escaped when you flipped the two of you with your hips, taking advantage of your lower centre of gravity. Your weight sat deliciously on top of him, allowing him to effectively crush his cock against your clothed mound. He groaned as you adjusted your position, making yourself comfortable.

"What was that, cook?" You panted out, trying to minimise how riled up you were. With pure purpose, you leant forward, caging his head between your arms. "Because from where I am you look pretty affected."

The man below you gulped as you leant forward, moving to rest on your elbows, bringing your face closer. The blush on your cheeks showed no sign of calming down, the only telltale sign Sanji could find that you were embarrassed. Your voice dropped. "If you must know, it's a common occurrence. You drive me wild you silly man. Can I kiss you?"

Sanji laughed, dragging your face down to meet him. He kissed you passionately, hands cradling your face firmly. You smiled into the kiss, sucking gently at his lower lip. With a groan, Sanji reciprocated and then some. The impromptu makeout session halted when you propped yourself up to breathe. You stared down at him with stars in your eyes.

"Wow." You breathed.

"Yeah." Sanji panted.

Silence. The two of you basking in each other.

"Would you let me play with you, Sanji?"

You were rewarded with a moan as he nodded, eyes scrunched shut. Eagerly you sat back on his hips. Exploratively, you ran your hands down his chest, rubbing your way back up. Sanji shivered as you began unbuttoning his shirt, fingers clumsy with want. When you got the last button done you couldn't help yourself, feeling all over his chest, as if you were mapping it to memory. Sanji hissed as your nails lightly scratched over his nipples, hips lightly bucking up into you. You hummed appreciatively.

"Can you stop teasing me, love?" Sanji bit out. You laughed.

With no pomp or circumstance, you divest yourself of your shirt, tossing it somewhere behind you. Sanji whined, reaching up for you. You avoided his hand, crushing your bra-clad chest back to his. You were rewarded with a stuttered sigh.

Sanji felt himself freeze when you licked a stripe up his neck. You were savouring him, stopping to nibble his ear lobe. You had one arm stretched far past his head, the other braced on his shoulder. Sanji bucked his hips at a particularly harsh bite. He could feel you grin against his skin. If Sanji was honest, he felt faint as you kissed back down his neck, stopping when you found his pulse point. Sanji bit back a moan as you sucked harshly, bringing your outstretched hand back to cup his pec. Small whines being the only thing to reward you.

"S-stop teasing, love." He was more flustered now. Perfect.

Bzzzz

Sanji froze, eyes wide. He breathed out a small "What the fuck?" watching with bated breath as you pulled yourself back up, a wicked grin on your features. A jolt of electricity shot through him as he felt a vibration against his neck.

You eyed him hungrily, slowly dragging the vibrator down his neck. The man beneath you was panting, eyes scrunched tight as you dragged the vibrator down to his chest. You circled a nipple with the vibrating tip, causing Sanji to jump. You bit back a moan.

"Look at me Sanji." You purred. A wave of arousal washed over you as he peered up at you with wide eyes. You languidly toyed with the vibrator, tickling your way down his stomach, the man beneath you squirming. "This okay?"

"Yeah." A whisper. You grinned.

"Good boy. Balance this for me, okay?"

The vibrator on his abdomen buzzed idly as you shuffled back. With a wicked glint in your eyes you trailed your hand downwards. Sanji accidentally bucked his hips when your fingers found his belt, making quick work of undoing the buckle. You paused, the man beneath you trying desperately to still. When you deemed him still enough you moved to opening his trousers, fighting your way through a button. You'd never really noticed that Sanji wore his pants higher up on his hips. It made sense, you realised, from a fighting point of view. Huh, you'd have to tag that away for future reference.

"I didn't expect you to have such a sexy happy trail. Gods, so coarse." You moaned, feeling your way down through his hair, You let your fingers lightly touch under his pants. Sanji squirmed. You cooed.

"What a good boy, I'll be taking this back, thank you." You purposefully tickled him as you took back the vibrator, staring at him through lidded eyes. Sanji felt himself freeze, knowing full well what you were planning to do.

Sanji felt an undignified groan escape him as he felt you press the vibrator to his clothed groin with featherlight pressure. You were killing him!

"Please do something (Name), you are driving me insane."

"Oh? More like this?" You feigned innocence, cupping both the vibrator and his bulge with one hand, and cranking the vibrator up with the other. You watched with perverse satisfaction as the man clenched his fists into your bedsheets. Good. With one hand you slipped the zipper down painfully slow. You made a show of sticking your hand through the opening and began palpating his clothed cock, making sure to squeeze every now and then.

The man below you began panting, trying to talk but instead babbling something incoherent. You laughed.

With the now intensified vibrator, you slipped it between his parted thighs, placing it directly at the apex. Sanji squealed at that, scrambling to move away.

"Too much?" You cooed, though a genuine questioning tone laid underneath. Looking up to survey his expression, you found him biting onto his hand to muffle his noises. He shook his head.

"Just unfamiliar." He willed his eyes open and tried to fix you with a glare. It failed miserably, and the man instead looked like he was going to cry.

Would it be so bad to make him cry?

You hummed as a way to acknowledge you saw him. Sanji managed to choke out a strangled, "You're not putting that in my ass."

The laugh that ripped from you was raucous and joyful. You playfully swatted his knee.

"I wasn't going to go anywhere near your ass!" You managed out through giggles. Sanji blushed. "Geez, getting ahead of yourself, aren't you?"

"Just hurry up and touch me." Sanji muttered. You giggled, withdrawing your hand. The man below you whined at the loss.

"Relax! Right now, I really just wanna blow you. That okay?"

"Y-yeah! Fuck, I mean, if you want to?"

"Really wanna. Can I put this against your balls? It'll feel good, promise?"

Sanji shuddered beneath you, the vulgarity of your words hitting him. You were looking at him with hopeful eyes, a far cry from what you were saying. He supposed he could always say no if he hated it. He nodded slowly.

"Yeah. Yeah, okay."

You squealed happily, hands flying up to try pulling down his pants. When they refused to budge you swatted at his thigh. Sanji let out a little yip, lifting his hips. You grinned wolfishly, tugging at the garment till it reached his mid thigh. You lightly trailed your hands up his thighs, tickling his inner thighs with your light touch. Sanji squirmed.

When your eyes met his pelvis you whistled lowly. "Now isn't that something? Definitely more than a mouthful. Didn't take you for a briefs kinda guy, to be honest."

Sanji clearly didn't like the tone he perceived from that. He snapped at you, face red. "They are boxer briefs, thank you! They offer the best support. Why am I even explaining this to you anyway? I shouldn't have to justify my underWEAR-"

Sanji's voice pitched high as you cupped him. You rubbed small circles, grinding your palm against him. "Relax! It makes sense, you don't want a ball popping out when you're doing those high kicks. Thought you'd be thankful I pointed out that and not the giant wet patch."

"Would you be quiet? I can feel myself going soft." Sanji whined. You laughed.

"That's not what I'm feeling sweetheart." As if on cue you felt his cock jump at the pet name. You grinned, swallowing the extra saliva that filled your mouth. "As fun as this panty chat is, I'd really like to unwrap my present now."

Sanji stared at you through lidded eyes as your thumbs hooked under his waistband, pulling lightly. He hissed at the feeling. With no real ceremony, you began peeling the fabric away from him. Eyes sparkling as his cock came into view. The head was red and angry, a clear representation at how frustrated he must feel. His cock was lithe, curved, and definitely long. You found that a fitting comparison to its owner.

"Fuck." You whispered. "I'm sorry sweetheart, you're gonna have to tell me if it's too much, ‘kay? I gotta suck you off."

Sanji barely got to respond before you were on him, hands squeezing him. Whatever he was going to say got cut off by a guttural moan. You pumped him a few times, coating his cock in his pre-cum. If Sanji was wriggly before, he was practically fucking your fist. You braced one hand on his hip.

"Bon Appetit."

You engulfed him, taking as much as you could into your mouth. A moan tore its way out of you as you tasted him. Gods it was so musky, you needed more. You sucked harshly, causing the man below you to squeal and scramble for purchase. You really weren't going easy on him.

The wet sounds that ensued were sinful, causing the both of you to feel embarrassed. You didn't care too much, needing to suck this man dry. You'd spent way too long thinking about this. You pumped what you couldn't fit in your mouth, laving your tongue on the underside of his cock. Sanji felt dizzy by the sensation, the heat in his groin growing. He couldn't help himself, hips bucking into your mouth. You gagged as he touched the back of your throat.

"Sorry. Sorry baby, feels too good." You hummed around his cock happily, causing Sanji to whine. "Baby, love, I'm not gonna last long, I promise I'm better than this."

You pulled off with a lewd pop, cooking a brow at him. A hoarse voice you didn't recognise as your own regarded him. "Y'perfect. Now calm down and cum in my mouth, can fuck me some other day."

Sanji whimpered as you resumed your ministrations, scrunching his eyes shut. Fuck, the pleasure was too much. He couldn't stop the way he lightly rocked his hips. He was so close. So close.

BZZZZZZZ

Ohoho. There was no way you'd forgotten what he'd agreed to. You firmly held the vibrating bullet against the back of his balls, resting on his perineum. Electricity coiled inside him, balls growing tight. Sanji honestly keened, a high whine escaping him. Oh shit that was...

Fuck. Too Much.

"(Name), I'm, oh fuck-"

Sanji tried to pry you off, embarrassed at the thought of cumming in your mouth. You growled around him, swallowing around him. Sanji moaned, hips delivering a final stutter.

He came. Hot seed spilling into your mouth and down your throat. Sanji's whole body shook. You gently licked at him, milking him through his orgasm. When you deemed the man thoroughly spent, you removed the bullet and pulled him out of your mouth. Sanji looked at you with frantic eyes.

"Spit that out!" He hissed, afraid to be heard. This was embarrassing. He hadn't even touched you yet, and here he was, trying to get you to get rid of his cum. Sanji felt himself grow light headed as he watched you swallow, your throat bobbing with the movement.

"You know we don't waste food Sanji. And how could I turn down such a treat?" You laughed, voice raspy.

Sanji whined. How dare you use his words against him! He felt awkward. You pulled his underwear back up, patting his hip.

"Lemme touch you!" He pleaded. You laughed. "No, really. Let me eat you out!"

You flushed beautifully. "Oh. Um. I don't think you want to do that!"

Sanji huffed. "I do! You're not gonna use that stupid toy, sit on my face, please darling."

You squeaked. "No! I'm not gonna sit on your f-face! And it's not stupid. Made you cum."

Sanji rolled his eyes, a blush high on his cheeks. "That's not hard when you're involved. Please?"

"I'm too heavy and I won't taste nice! N-no!" You scrambled to the other side of your bed while Sanji pulled his pants back up. His eyes softened.

"That's not true. I'm sure I don't taste good." He faltered when you shook your head. He tried to muster up his signature charm. "Oh, you're worried you're too addictive and I'll never leave you alone?"

That drew a laugh from you. Sanji smiled. "C'mon love? Can I...can I finger you at least? Really wanna touch you."

Your face was glowing red, eyes shifting away from him. "Oh. Um. I suppose that's okay."

Sanji leapt off the bed. "Good! Yes! Get comfy!" He watched as you settled where he'd been, clearly feeling embarrassed. You covered your stomach with your arms. Sanji frowned. "Love... You know that won't do."

"Ah. Sanji c'mon." You pleaded.

"Uh uh. You were so confident before. C'mon lay back. Just relax, I won't bite, unless you want me to?"

There was that cocky grin you found so endearing. With a sigh, you sunk back into the mattress, letting your hands fall to your side. When you nodded, Sanji took that as his cue.

Fervently he scrambled onto the bed, pinning you under him. He began peppering kisses all over your face, causing you to giggle. He was acting like an overexcited puppy. You captured his lips in another searing kiss. Sanji rested a hand on your waist, causing you to gasp. Sanji greedily took advantage of this, licking his way into your mouth. You whined. You heard Sanji groan, evident he could still taste himself.

He pulled back with a pop and you startled at the look he gave you. It was so full of love and warmth, lust evident. He gave you a wink, before he ducked down to start kissing you everywhere. Your non-existent collarbones. He sucked lightly over one of them. You squeaked. He kissed his way down your breasts, free hand groping your smple chest. Sanji grinned against your skin, pleased with the noises he was getting. He trailed both hands to your back, rubbing soothing circles. You sighed as he explored your back.

When you felt his practised fingers make quick work of your bra hooks you gasped, red faced. He pushed them out of the way, lightly clawing at your back. You felt like fainting when your strap started to fall. What if he was disgusted? Sanji felt your breath picking up.

"Oh my dear! Don't be scared. I'll take good care of you I promise! May I see them? I dream of them! You wouldn't deprive me of such a sight?"

You smiled at how cheesy he was. With a light cough you nodded. You wanted to cry at how gentle he was treating you, hands rubbing both your arms. You began to relax. Sanji grinned, eyes wild, as he pulled the straps down your arms, He gestured to the cups, wiggling his eyebrows. You laughed, nodding. He really knew how to ease the tension. Sanji looked awestruck as he pulled your bra away, discarding it off the bed.

"Wow."

Sanji's eyes were positively sparkling, You watched as he nodded, seemingly at nothing, face dangerously red. With shaking hands he reached up to cup your breasts. He let out a shuddering breath. You felt your weighty breasts being lifted, Sanji supporting them with a blissful smile. He bounced his hands lightly, watching as they jiggled.

"So hot. Better than I imagined."

"Yeah?" You tried not to sound too hopeful. Sanji grinned, squeezing experimentally. A cute whine ripped its way out of your throat, head lolling to the side. He was so gentle. You felt guilty for teasing him. "I'm sorry for teasing you. You're so cute you make me wanna make you blush."

Sanji stilled. "Oh. I...I don't mind. It's kinda hot. I'll get you back, don’t worry. Right now, wanna make you feel good."

You tried to push down the butterflies when Sanji kissed your tits as his hands reached your shorts. Embarrassment overcoming you, you buried your face in your hands as he popped open a button.

"Love? We can stop if it's too much?"

"No." You whined behind your hands. "Been a long time, and you're so hot. Don't want you to be disappointed.

"I'm flattered. You know I could never be disappointed (Name)."

Butterflies multiplied when he spoke your name. You nodded, wincing as he played with your zipper. With a sigh, you peeked through your hands. The breath that left you was airy and shaky.

"Okay."

Sanji shot you a dazzling grin. "Then hips up my love!"

You obeyed him, and watched as he dragged your shorts down, not stopping till they hung off one foot. With a shake of your foot the offending article hit the bed. Sanji gasped, cooing at you.

"Ah, your panties have little kittens on them, so cute."

You froze, face dangerously red. Sanji watched out of the corner of his eyes as you floundered beneath him, stuttering.

"I didn't know we were gonna...y'know? Wasn't like I wanted anyone to see 'em. It was uh....laundry day?" Your protests fell on deaf ears.

Sanji chuckled, eyes glinting dangerously. "It's cute. So cute. Can think of another pussy I'd like to see."

You swatted at him in embarrassment, he dodged you playfully.

"I understand why you enjoy teasing me so much. Your face is so cute, love. May I?"

You nodded, not trusting your voice. Sanji grinned. Stupid cook. The object of your affection studied you, clear he was savouring this. You squirmed. Sanji rested his hands on your plush hips.

"You're going to have to spread your legs sweetheart." Sanji bit his lip when you squeaked in response. "C'mon. Let me make you feel good."

Sanji watched, utterly enraptured as you shuffled, spreading your thighs apart. Your thighs looked so inviting, all he wanted to do was bury his face in there and lap at you like a man starving. But he'd respect your wishes, there was always next time. Eyes flicking upwards, he took into account how you weren't looking at him, eyes scrunched shut.

You startled when Sanji crawled between your legs, hands cradling your thighs. The touch tickled and burned, sending electricity buzzing through you straight to your core. Sanji slid a hand up your inner thigh, resting at mid thigh.

"Fuck." You heard him swear, voice full of awe. "You're so wet."

A squeal escaped you and you tried slamming your thighs shut, but Sanji had caught them, staring. You cracked an eye open and gasped, thighs shaking.

Sanji was practically drooling, biting his bottom lip. "You're SO wet..." He trailed off. You felt a hand gently hook your thigh onto his shoulder. He kissed the skin softly, relishing as you quivered under him. "Fuck. You gotta let me eat you next time."

Next Time. The thought made you lightheaded. You whined. Sanji soothed you, rubbing circles on your thigh. When you pried your eyes open you found the man staring directly in your eyes. You startled. Sanji maintained intense eye contact as you felt his knuckle run up your clothed slit. You muffled a shriek, blush returning tenfold. Sanji smiled, eyes turning back to your pussy. You shook as his fingers danced over you, pushing the fabric against you. When he caressed the area you moaned.

"As cute as these are, can I please take them off?" Sanji pleaded playfully.

"Please." You nodded.

You squirmed as he began pulling your panties down, hands tickling the skin uncovered.

"Okay baby, knees together." Sanji coached, picking your other leg up to join the one on his shoulder. You mewled at his gentleness, feeling him drag your underwear down. You tried angling your hips away from him, instead giving him a good view of your rear. "What a cute ass." He mused, continuing to trail the fabric to your feet. With nothing but gentleness, he slipped the underwear off you, balling the fabric up.

You were too busy trying to disappear and hide your nakedness from the man, so you didn't notice how he rubbed it between his fingers before stuffing them in his pockets. He'd make sure you didn't even realise they were missing. He salivated at the thought.

In the meantime you had clamped both hands over your sex. Sanji tutted at you. That wouldn't do. With a sigh he gripped your right leg, beginning to pry them apart. You shrieked, pointing your knees inwards.

"(Name)." Sanji warned. When you didn't respond he swatted lightly at your ass. He grinned when you rewarded him with a squeal, bucking your hips away from his hand and towards him. He'd file that away. Sanji sighed. "Darling please. I'll die if you don't show me that pretty pussy. I'm trying to be gentle, but knowing what's behind those hands, I want to wrench your thighs open."

Sanji watched you surreptitiously rub your thighs together. He cocked an eyebrow. So you were enjoying this. An over-dramatic sigh escaped him. He'd just have to deal with the consequences. Sure you could fight, but Sanji was stronger than you, and when he wrapped a hand under your thigh, thumb wrapping into the inside near your apex, you knew you were fucked.

"Darling. You can be a good girl and show me, or I can do it for you." When you continued squirming and stuttering Sanji tsked. "Then I'm sorry (Name). You can get me back later."

You squealed when he yanked your thighs apart, quickly slotting himself between your legs, rendering you unable to close them fully. If your face got any redder you'd faint, and it was a very likely possibility when you felt his hands circle your wrist. The switch to being more dominant was making your head spin. Sure, you adored submissive Sanji, but the idea that he was acting like this because he wanted to see you that badly ignited you.

"Sorry my love." He apologised before wrenching your hands back. You tried desperately to slap your thighs shut, squirming in his hold. All this did was rut your sex closer to him. You heard Sanji groan, causing you to go deathly still.

"F-fuck."

Fighting the tears in your eyes you avoided his eyes. Sanji breathed out a long sigh, the air hitting your sex. You whined.

"Holy fuck. Gorgeous."

You stared down at him. Sanji's eyes were glued to your pussy, pupils dilated. Anxious, you fiddled with your fingers. Sanji kept muttering praises, rubbing your thigh reassuringly.

Shame flooded you when you felt him spread you open with two fingers. A loud squelch rewarded the man, and he clearly enjoyed it.

"Oh fuck! Love, love, please?"

"Yeah." You breathed out. Sanji grinned up at you before turning his attention back to his prize. With his index and middle finger he parted your labia back open, whining at the wetness that greeted him. He gently prodded you with his thumb, causing you to jump and whine.

Sanji acted like a man possessed, thumb rubbing circles, gathering up your juices. He ground his thumb against your clit, causing you to moan and squirm against him. He pivoted his hand position so just his thumb was on you, rubbing sweet circles on the nub. Your body was abuzz with pleasure, clit throbbing.

"Here we go, my love. Tell me if you don't like it." His honeyed voice kissed your ears. All you could muster was an eager nod.

Thumb still stimulating your clitoris, you felt his pointer circle your opening. Pleasure overtook you, helping abate some of your nerves. The long digit dipped into you and you squeaked. Sanji took this as a good sign, and he slowly sunk the finger inside you, curling up at the end. When you big out a low moan Sanji knew that was the spot. He rubbed the rough spot gently, causing tears to spring to your eyes.

Sanji's movements grew clumsy, causing you to stare down at him. The sight that greeted you caused you to choke back a laugh. Sanji growled, crooking his finger and making you whine.

Sanji was deep in you with one hand, the other was struggling with your vibrator.

"How do you even turn this thing on?" He growled, grinding his thumb a little hard when you giggled.

"Twist the base. No, no the other way...There you go!"

Sanji withdrew his other hand, causing you to mourn the loss. He grinned up at you. "Here we go darling!"

You blushed as he spread you open again, hearing him sigh in awe. You bit back a moan when he pressed the vibrator against your clit. Sanji grinned at how you shook. With a cheeky smirk, he plunged a finger inside you, pumping in and out at a gentle rhythm. When you began squirming, Sanji took that as a sign to add another finger, making sure to crook them just right.

Sanji took you in. You were panting, moaning freely as he pleasured you. He watched mesmerised at how your chest heaved, your hands playing with your nipples, a hiss tearing from his throat. That was hot. He became more desperate to make you cum.

The vibrator cranked up in power, causing you to moan wantonly. Sanji crumpled himself against you, hand pumping furiously. The vibrator was firmly dancing against your clit. With his free hand Sanji slapped one of your hands away. You wanted to protest, but then he began sucking harshly at your tit. A whine echoed through the room when he bit down on the skin.

Your moans pitched up in tone and frequency as you reached your end. Sanji stared up at you, in awe of your reactions. He felt your thighs quiver, a wave of giddiness washing over him. He could do this all day if it meant you'd react like that. He resumed sucking and nibbling at your breasts, his ego inflating at the way you chanted his name. He liked this version of you, too caught up in pleasure to worry about how you looked, or how you sounded. Even if it drove him wild, he really loved when you were confident.

"There we go my love. Let go. So hot."

You had tears in your eyes, your hips rocking in time with his thrusts. "Oh Sanji...you're so good to me. Good boy." Your voice hitched at a particularly hard bite. "Oh! I-I'm gonna cum b-baby."

Sanji whined against your sweaty skin. "Cum for me (name), please love."

Stars burst behind your eyes as you reached your white hot peak. You clenched around his fingers, walls spasming. Sanji marvelled at how you threw your head back, brows knitted together. Your fingers clawed for purchase, one settling in his locks, the other scratching at his neck. Sanji groaned. You uttered a stuttered call of his name. Sanji felt his mouth go dry as you came, wet squelches reaching his ears, and watching as your back arched beautifully.

You fell back into the bed, completely spent. Sanji fumbled with the vibrator, throwing it aside when he couldn't turn it off, simultaneously removing his fingers gently, eyes blown wide at the cum decorating his digits. He couldn't stop himself, trying to sneakily guide his fingers to his mouth. You watched, mesmerised as he began licking the digits clean, humming in delight. A gasp tore its way from your throat. Sanji froze, fingers in his mouth.

"M'sorry." He mumbled around his fingers. "Really wanted to taste you."

"And?" You breathed out, eyes wide and inquisitive.

Sanji sucked them clean, then pulled the fingers from his mouth with a wet pop. You cringed at the lewd sound. "Oh love, it's exquisite."

He climbed his way on top of you, collapsing against your chest with a huff, earning a giggle from you. You placed a kiss into his hair. Sanji snuggled deeper, trying to crush you in a hug. Happily, you felt him shiver as you drew circles on his bare back. The small grunt he made causing a languid grin to spread across your face.

"Was that okay?" The tentative voice you spoke with sounded foreign to you. Sanji laughed, kissing your skin.

"More than okay. Would you let me make love to you when I'm hard again?"

Sanji preened at the delighted sound that rewarded him. "I would love that." You paused. "Hey Sanji?"

The tired man hummed, feeling you fiddle with his hair with one hand, the other splayed on his back. You were silent. He tilted his head up, peering up at you through heavy lashes. Your eyes were big and nervous.

"I kinda...like you, you know? Like...love you."

You felt the breath knocked from your lungs at the dazzling grin that spread across his face. He pushed himself up, pulling his body upwards so he could meet your eyes.

"Yeah?" He breathed. You nodded. Sanji captured you in another kiss. "Love you too my sweet." You grinned, causing the man above you to kiss you repeatedly. You pulled back cheekily.

"Even liked the vibrator?" Sanji scowled but nodded faintly. You giggled, dropping your voice low. "You know you can get one that goes around your cock? Stops you from cumming without permission."

A soft whine ripped from Sanji's throat as he stilled, burying his face in your neck. You raised a brow.

"Are you fucking hard again?"

"Sorry darling."

#sanji x reader #one piece x reader #black leg sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #one piece smut #lmao.......i am currently sick af so this is what we're doing i guess...#smut #[paris hilton voice] can i have 5 more of these little blonde bitches #you cant tell me this man wouldnt go WILD over a cockring #i didnt realise how many words there were ;-; bro wtf

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pluto-on-mars · 2 months

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Brainrot

I literally just wanted to write abt Tsukishima fucking you dumb and being mean abt it <3

Tsukishima kei x reader (18+ MDNI)

Includes: dumbification, unprotected sex, overstimulation, degradation, thigh riding/fucking(?), fingering, edging, oral (f receiving), plot what plot/pwp

Wordcount: 1,326 (unfinished)

Tsukishima was always one to tease, and you would normally put up with it. Normally you could handle his teasing touches to an extent. But currently, you felt like you were burning, mind hazy as Tsukishima's lips captured yours in a searing kiss.

His actions were intoxicating, swirling your tongue with his, and occasionally sucking on it. You felt like you were melting, Tsukishima's intense actions causing the spark of arousal to ignite.

You moaned into the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth as you tried your best to keep up with his actions. Your arms draped around his neck as you pulled yourself impossibly closer to him.

He shifted, causing his thigh to go right between your legs. You rocked your hips, trying to get anything to touch you right where you needed it. Suddenly, he pulled away, chuckling in amusement as you leaned forward trying to kiss him again. Hands came up to grip your hips which halted your movements.

You panted," Kei, please." His face was still close to yours, allowing you to feel the words as he spoke," Please? Please what?" There was a slight mocking tone to his words that went straight to your core.

You tried to buck your hips against his thigh but it was no use, his hands kept you firmly in place but for some reason that just aroused you even more.

Your face flushed, embarrassment crawling into your mind. You whispered," Please touch me."

You watched as a condescending smirk splayed across his features He moved his face closer, lips lightly brushing against each other, but not exactly capturing yours into a kiss.

He pulled your hips down, making your clothed cunt press against his thigh. Your breath hitched as he started to slowly rock your hips," What was that? I'm gonna need you to speak. louder." He punctuated his words by bouncing his thigh.

You felt like you were going to burst, brain processing his words much slower than usual. You begged," Please use your fingers to fuck my cunt, Kei please."

Tsukishima inhaled sharply, his hand going between your thighs, the other rubbing circles into your hips. " Well since you asked so nicely." he cooed out.

His slim fingers traced around your clothed clit, giving feather light touches that was something but at the same time nothing. Your breath hitched, about to beg him to stop his teasing.

But he pushed your underwear aside, cold fingers gathering your slick and swirling it around your clit. You bucked your hips into his hand as you gripped him tighter," Fuck! Kei-"

He let out an amused chuckle as he teased you," Look at you, so wet that you don't even have to suck on my fingers before I put them in you." Your breath hitched as his fingers slipped into your entrance.

He started to move his fingers, quickly finding that spongey spot inside you that made you see stars. You dug your face in the crook of his neck, as you tried to bite back your moans.

His lips brushed your ears as he muttered his words," You know better than to hide from me, or are you just a stupid whore?"

You let out a wanton moan as he started to speed up, thumb suddenly circling your clit. "Oh shit- faster! Please Kei 'm gonna cum!"

He nipped at your ear as he sped up his pace, fingers reaching your g-spot with every movement. You let out a desperate keen," Kei! 'M about to- fuck! 'M gonnacum-"

Suddenly, just as the knot you felt in your abdomen was about to snap, Tsukishima stopped. He laughed at you," What, did you think I was gonna let you cum that easily? You really are dumb."

You rolled your hips, needily nipping and kissing his neck in hopes that would somehow convince him to give you more. He huffed," Look at you, such a desperate whore trying to use anything to get off."

You frantically nodded," Need you Kei!" Tsukishima let out a low groan as your words went straight to his cock.

" Really now? Show me how much you need me." he rasped. You slowly started to rock your hips against his thigh, moaning as you felt him flex his thigh. You felt hot under his gaze as you sped up your pace.

Pressing into his thigh, you moaned as he started to play with one of your nipples, rolling it with his thumb. " Fuck, look at you making a mess of my thigh."

Going faster, you felt fuzzy, static starting to buzz throughout your limbs," Kei 'm gonna cum, please let me cum!" His hands grabbed your hips as he rocked you faster, slowly making pressure build in your abdomen.

"Go ahead, cum for me slut." His name-calling sent you over the edge, the orgasm that you had been waiting for finally arriving. You gripped onto him as your thighs started to shake," 'M cumming! Fuck! Shit Kei!"

Tsukishima would be lying if he said he didn't love to hear you moan his name. His gaze locked onto your face as it started to morph into an expression of pure ecstasy.

He slowly stopped rocking your hips against his thigh as you came down from your high. He put his lips on yours as he swallowed your moans, lightly biting your bottom lip as he laid you down.

His tongue worked his way inside your mouth as his hands trailed down to your tits. Pulling away from the kiss with a sharp pop he left a trail of wet kisses against your neck. Slowly going lower, and lower, hands following in his mouth's wake.

His mouth traveled to your inner thigh, nipping at it slightly. Your legs threatened to close when he let his breath fan across your sensitive cunt. Using his hands to keep your legs open for him, he used his tongue to lick a long stripe up your pussy and swirled it around your clit.

You tried to close your legs around his head, but he was just too strong. " 'M still sensitive!" you cried out. But that did nothing to deter him as he wrapped his lips around your nub and hummed.

" What was that?" He muttered against you, sending vibrations throughout your core. You cried out," Just came- Please 'm so sensitive. It's too good!"

" A whore like you can handle it." He teased right before his tongue delved into your wet hole. He ate you like a man starved, lapping at your folds and thrusting his tongue in and out.

Your back arched as you felt another orgasm begin to build again. Tsukishima moved his hands to hold your hips down, allowing you to close your thighs around his head. Your hands moved to grip his sandy blonde hair, meeting his sharp gaze as he looked at you.

Tsukishima felt you clench around his tongue and he brought a thumb to your clit. You let out a choked moan as you babbled out," Cumming again! 'M gonna- cumming! 'M cumming!"

Tsukishima moved his tongue faster, spurred on by your moans. He moaned into your cunt, your juices covering his face. Finally moving away from your hole, he captured your lips in a kiss. Its passionate nature feeling like a gentle contrast compared to his intense actions.

The sudden feeling of Tsukishima sinking you down on his cock made you see stars, his sinful groan making your walls clench around him. " Fuck, you're so wet, didn't even need my dick to make you such a mess."

He grabbed your hips, setting his own pace as he used his hands to slam them up and down, pushing his dick in and out.

" Such a slut, cumming before I could put my cock in you." He grunted, hands gripping down harder as you tightened around him.

" You-you said I could." You managed to choke out in your breathless state.

" Oh?" You knew it was an immediate mistake when you felt him stop," Still have enough sense in you to talk back I see?" he sneered.

Flipping you around so that your ass was up in the air, he wasted no time pushing his dick back between your folds. Slamming into you at a brutal pace, you couldn't stop the desperate moans that escaped you even if you wanted to.

" Can't have that now can I?" He husked, making his thrusts harder.

#haikyu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu smut #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu tsukki #smut #tsukishima smut #tw dumbification #tw overstimulation #tw: dumbification #tw: overstimulation #pwp fic #tw: degradation #tsukishima kei x reader #hq smut #hq tsukki #hq tsukishima

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oneforthemunny · 29 days

Text

light my morning sky |rockstar!eddie munson x nepo baby!reader|

prompt: three wedding ceremonies, and it's stop number two in vegas. a night with your friends, celebrating you the way both of you love, and it leads to a rather intense wedding night for the two of you in sin city.

contains: minors dni. smut. fluff but mainly smut. drugs and alcohol, overall just partying in vegas. getting married in vegas. dom!eddie x sub!reader. bratty overtones to sub!reader. more of a soft!dom with rockstar!eddie bc he's in loooveeeee. spanking with implement (paddle/crop). thigh riding kinda. crawling. pinvsex. language. nothing too harsh or mean bc it's their (second) wedding night lol.

"I now pronounce you married." Elvis, or one of his many replicas on the strip, rasped in his low, exaggerated drawl mimicking the beloved singer. His hair perfectly coiffed, sideburns trimmed, and dressed in a black jumpsuit with wings, red and gold sequins trim.

Flamboyant, over the top- it was Eddie's dream.

Eddie grinned at you, his hands in yours, thumb brushing over the large stone on your left hand. He looked like The King himself in his white tasseled suit, pointed collar, and blue beading down the deep V of his shirt- an identical suit made to look exactly like Elvis' infamous jumpsuit from his time in Las Vegas in the 70's. It had been a prop in some show your father was producing, one that you and Eddie borrowed after the wedding.

"Eddie, you may now kiss your little darlin' here." The officiant grinned, stepping back towards the faux-rose garland, strung with bright lights.

Your heart swelled in your chest, just as light and giddy as the first ceremony, letting Eddie cup your face, pulling you in to seal with a kiss, far more passionate and needy than the ceremony in California.

Cheers erupted from the small crowd of friends you'd rallied for the big day- well, the second big day. Their booze soaked giggles and screeches mashed to the tune of Can't Help Falling In Love pouring out of the static filled old speakers. Flashes blinded your vision, even behind your closed eyes, camera clicks and bright snaps of camera light capturing every moment.

For a moment, you tensed, aware of your rounded shoulders, of Eddie's hand grabbing at your ass, eyes opening and cutting towards the aisle. Jonathan stood there, face hidden by the camera. Eddie had insisted his friend from Hawkins come instead, replace the snooty photographer that had done the ceremony before. Your parents had raved about him, but Eddie didn't see what the big deal was with him. He just made you both look so stiff, so unnatural in your portraits.

Eddie's hand slid up the silk material of your tiny dress, gripped onto your hip, bunching the material. You could feel his wedding band in the small of your back when he pressed his hand there, steadying you before he tipped you back. A deep dip of a kiss, your thigh hiked around his hip.

The small bouquet of white roses you'd bought at the front of the chapel fell onto the patterned carpet, your friends' screeching and whooping laughs ignited by the dramatics. They expected nothing less from Eddie- from both of you.

"Lord have mercy," The officiant laughed, fanning himself dramatically, long metallic sleeves rippling. "These two have lots of hunk-a, hunk-a burnin' love, don't they folks?"

Eddie could feel your lips twitch against his, a snort of a giggle, hot air blowing against his lip. His dopey and dimpled grin met you when you finally pulled apart. It left you weak, blistering in his intense, love filled gaze.

A pop of Perignon filled the room, Gareth and Farrah bumbling closer with two glasses, trying to stop the excess spilling over. A celebratory toast to the two of you, to keep your buzz going after the break in the bender you took for the ceremony.

Since you'd landed on Thursday night, the party hadn't stopped. Liquor flowing, loud music, sloppily piling into a stall with your own friends, taking bumps off your room keys before stumbling back to the club in your designer shoes, ready to keep the party going.

The afterparty was no different. Tucked away in a private villa at Ceasar's, you didn't make it to the club. Eddie had insisted he had to go first, nearly pushing Jeff over to get to the door, scooping you up in his arms and walking you through the door.

"Watch your fuckin' head, baby- don't lean back." You could smell the alcohol on his breath, a pungent mixture of too many to name, mixed with the faintest whiff of smoke from his cigarettes.

It didn't take long for Nick to find the boom box, blaring his party mixtape at a wall shaking volume, everyone scattering. Some to the kitchen to scour through the piles of empty bottles for a full one, others to collapse into the couch and let someone line up a pick me up before plunging in the hot tub outside.

"You," Eddie slurred, his head dipping down to press against your forehead. "Look so fuckin' beautiful." Nose brushing against yours, red from his own party favors.

You giggled nasally, blinking blearily eyed to focus on him to close to you. The effects of the tequila and champagne and hodge podge of liquor you'd mixed and consumed catching up with you.

"You know what, baby? You look really good, Mr. Munson." You whispered, hand cupping his jaw. "Like- hic!- too good to be fucking true."

"You're sweet talkin' me? Huh? Bein' s'nice to me?" Eddie grinned, fingers sinking into your hips.

"Yeah." You hummed.

"Tryna get my pants off or somethin', huh, baby? G-Get in my pants by bein' so sweet? You think that's gonna work?" Eddie teased, tilting his head to the side.

"Yeahhh..." You nodded, staggering against him, manicured nails raking down his bare chest. "We have to- to consummate the marriage, Ed."

"What?" Eddie furrowed his brows. "We gotta do what? Wait- I thought you wanted to fuck."

You laughed, head tilting back letting out that mean little cackle that always got Eddie worked up- a little mocking, mostly genuine. It left him flushed in heat, crawling up his chest and splattering over his cheeks.

"You dumbass, that is what that means." You rolled your eyes at him.

Eddie's eyes narrowed with you, catching your chin easily. "Oh? That's how you wanna play tonight, hm?" He shook his head, your body erupting in a fiery heat. "You're not gonna be nice to me?"

"I'm always nice to you." You countered, hand closing around his wrist gently, steadying yourself. "You're the one who's mean."

"Yeah?" Eddie grinned, eyes shining, glimmering in the low light of the room, the music from the other side thudding in a low roar, still shaking the walls. "You want me to be mean to you tonight? That's how you wanna do this?"

"Yeah." You sighed, a devious little grin that had Eddie's heart swelling, body buzzing with bouts of electricity. A shock to his system that brought him into something animalistic and primal and thrilling. Something new he only felt with you.

"I was hopin' you'd want to. Figured you would. Went ahead and got you a little somethin'." Eddie hummed, pulling you close into him. His breath hot on your cheek, booze soaked and warm on your skin.

"A gift?" Your eyes lit up, bright and devious all at once. Positively troublesome.

"Yeah. A gift. Just for you, baby." Eddie's lip dragged over your cheek, nose, hands sliding up your neck into your hair. "A wedding gift, but-but not for the wedding. For the after."

"Mm," You moaned lightly, his lips brushing with yours, teasing. Just enough to make you want to kiss him fully, leave you waiting and wanting more. "It's after now, Ed." You batted your lashes up at him.

"Is it?" Eddie muttered, fingers curling around your hair the back of your head.

"Yeah." You whispered, voice raspy from the liquor. "Time to give me my gift."

"Ooh, you're gonna be demanding?" Eddie pulled back from you, holding you at arms length so he could see you. Your pout, glassy eyes rounding instinctively- a classic look, teetering on demanding and begging, a signature look for you.

"'M not being demanding." You huffed, hands sliding over his arms. He could feel the diamonds of your wedding band scratch lightly over his skin. "You said you had a gift for me."

Eddie bit back a smirk, squeezing your shoulders with firm, gentle affection. You grinned triumphantly when he stumbled to his closet, puling a red gift bag tied together with a gold bow.

He smirked at your squeal of delight, hands clapping together excitedly when he gave you the bag. "What is it?" You beamed, a peal of excited, drunken giggles spilling from your chest.

"Open it." Eddie clicked, shaking his head at you. "What's in it- open the damn thing, baby. It's a present. 'M not tellin' you w-what I got you." His words slurred, still silly and playful.

You laughed, head spinning and intoxicatingly airy with glee, unraveling the gold spun ribbon with a dramatic tug of your hand. Underneath the piles of tissue paper, a long box lied at the bottom.

There, inside the felt lined box, a small heart shaped paddled. Black and leather, with a black, metal handle. It was small, smaller than most of Eddie's chosen paddles. The heart shape at the end firmer than the crop, not as flimsy as you expected.

"Look," Eddie pointed, swaying gently in front of you. He turned the handle clumsily around his hands before he turned it to you. There in etched gold, your names and the date carved into the metal handle.

"Ed." You cooed, head tilting back to meet his gaze. "You got this f'me?"

"Well, kinda." Eddie nodded. "I mean, for me to use on you, but yeah. Wanted something to-to remember this by."

Lips pulling in a smile, you stood, arms wrapping around his waist, pulling him flush to your own chest. "You're so sweet." You hum, swaying with him softly. "So sweet to me."

Eddie's cheeks flushed, matching the drunken red heat painted on his neck. "Yeah." He hummed, hands sliding over your cheeks, smearing your already rubbed off foundation, tilting your head back towards him.

"'M not gonna be sweet to you f'long." He muttered, lip twitching in a curling grin. Staticky prickles of excitement licked at your neck, shimmering all the way down to your core. Eddie's tongue ran over his teeth, brow raising. "That alright with you, baby?"

"Yes." You whispered, nails digging into his hands lightly, steadying yourself.

Eddie caught your chin, pulling your gaze towards him. "Who?" His tone dropped, low and raspy but punctuated.

The nervous, maybe excited, giggle spilled out of your lips before you could stop it. Eyes shining, swaying with excitement, you batted your lashes towards him. "Yes, Sir." You purred, hands sliding, nails raking down his forearms.

Eddie grinned, ducking down to catch your lips in a hungry kiss. Hand pressed to the small of your spine, you could taste the liquor on his tongue as it slid past your teeth. A sloppy, needy, alcohol fueled make out. Hands grabbing, pulling at the other, pushing your bodies closer and closer together until it felt like they might fuse together, mold into one. Hands sliding, bunching the material of your dress up your hips.

"Wait!" Your eyes flew open, pulling apart with an urgency that had Eddie jumping.

"What? What's wrong?" Eddie's brows furrowed, vision fading blearily in and out of focus.

"I forgot," You turned towards your suitcase. "I bought something special for tonight. S-Somethin' to put on." You muttered, swaying drunkenly, hands on his waist to steady yourself.

"Baby, it's alright. Just save it for tomorrow-"

"-No." Your tone was cutting, huffy with a hint of demanding- bratty. You did it best, Eddie supposed, his cock twitching at the sound.

He wanted to grab the paddle, haul you over his knee right then, feel you scratch and scream at him like old times. Instead, he let you stomp off, bunching a flash of white material to your chest, stumbling towards the bathroom.

It was worth it, Eddie decided. Legs spread on the edge of the bed, knee bouncing with anticipation until the doors opened.

"Are you ready?" He could hear your grin, hidden by the door.

"Yeah. Show me, baby. Come on out." Eddie's lips tugged in a half grin.

The door opened painfully slow, your own teasing reveal, until you stood before him in a tiny, white, see through lacy lingerie set. A classic, more scandalous and revealing than before. Bra and panties so revealing it left little to the imagination, hip hugging garter that connected to two leg holders, both with their own loops. Eddie pictured for a moment tying you up by them, stringing the rope through them, tying your legs wide open and spending the rest of the night- hell, the whole week in between them.

Maybe tomorrow night. Tonight, he had other plans.

Eddie's loud wolf whistle mixed with your bubbling giggles. "Holy shit, baby, look at you. No, look at me, but I wanna look at you." Eddie rasped, hands sliding over your exposed skin, rubbing the lace of your garter, pulling the tiny strap of your panties so it snapped to your skin.

"You like it?" You whispered, watching his eyes carefully. You knew he did. He always did.

"You kidding? Love it." Eddie grinned. "Worth the wait, beautiful."

Your cheeks burned with a rush of euphoric excitement, hands sliding up his shoulder, your ring sparkling even under the dim lights of the room.

"Ok, I'm ready now." You said boldly, lashes batting up to Eddie sweetly. "I just wanted to put this on for you."

"Oh? You're ready?" Eddie snorted lightly, lips curling in a smirk. "You callin' the shots?"

You huffed, an eye roll that had Eddie swallowing hard, trying to ignore the throbbing of his cock. "No," Your tongue clicked sarcastically. "Obviously you're in charge for right now."

"Oh, it's like that?" Eddie scoffed. "You're gonna act like that?"

"I'm not acting like anything, Ed." You bit your lip playfully. "I don't know what you're talking about." Oh, you were playful tonight. Eddie's heart swelled, palms twitching with excitement.

"Hm," Eddie hummed, tongue running down the inside of his cheek.

"Why don't you go get your gift." Eddie nodded towards the discarded paddle at the other end of the bed. You stepped towards it. "Nuh-uh-uh." Eddie clicked, head shaking.

"You know how you're supposed to get things for me." His eyes darkened, narrowing towards you.

Your thighs twitched, aching between them with a familiar heat. "Ed," Whiny and nasally, shoulders slumping for effect.

"You're gonna whine? C'mon, I know you know better." Eddie shook his head. "I don't wanna be mean to you tonight. Not too mean, anyways. Don't make me be mean. Go get your gift and bring it here, you know what to do. You be good for me, and I'll be good to you."

It didn't take much convincing, not when your head was spinning the way it was, desperate to please him. You knew he was true to his word, that he'd make you feel so good, which was exactly why you sunk to your knees. Crawling across the carpeted floors, you crept slowly towards the paddle.

Eddie watched through heavy lids, the sway of your hips, tiny panties riding up into your ass with every crawl. Your eyes met his when you raised up, gently grabbing the paddle off the bed. Eddie's heart lurched with excitement when you slipped it between your teeth, sinking back to your knees.

"Holy shit... Baby," Eddie groaned, leg shaking furiously when you rounded the corner of the bed, crawling straight for him. "Look at you. Jesus Christ, you know what you're doin'?"

You sunk back on your knees, settling between Eddie's open legs, eyes rounded so sweetly up at him it answered his question- you knew exactly what you were doing to him.

"'M just trying to be good." You whispered sweetly, head tilting to the side when he took to the paddle from you. "I just want to be so good for you always and forever, Mr. Munson."

Eddie thought he might snap the paddle in half, grip strangling in a tight hold around the pole. For a second, he contemplated again diving right between your legs, kinky foreplay be damned. Instead, he pulled you over his knee, let you straddle his thigh, covered cunt hot on his knee.

"Look at me." Eddie rasped, pulling your chin up, letting it rest on his chest, your body folded over his. "I wanna look at you. Wanna see you the whole time."

You pressed your lips together, swallowing back a pathetic whine. One hand cradling the back of your head, the other dragging the paddle along your exposed cheeks.

"You wanna be good for me?" Eddie whispered. You didn't reply, didn't get the chance to before the paddle snapped onto your ass. A jump, a whine, followed by Eddie's coaxing whisper back onto his knee.

"I asked you somethin', sweetheart." Eddie muttered, the crop tapping your other cheek. "You wanna be good for me?" Two sharp hits one to each cheek had you hissing.

"Yes." You hissed through gritted teeth, stilling your hips not to grind on him, hump his leg mercilessly. You knew that'd just fuel his cruel teasing even more.

"Yeah?" You yelped at the sharp sting.

"Yes, I wanna be good for you." Your spine ached at the uncomfortable bend in position, still you didn't dare move. It was true, you did want to be good for him.

"Are you going to be good for me?" Eddie whispered, nose nearly touching yours.

You bit back a giggle, stopped by three more sharp spanks of the crop to your ass, already itchy with growing agitation. "Yeah." Your eyes shone up at Eddie's, a silly, love sick grin that had him swooning.

"Yeah?" Eddie mocked back with a light snort. It was growing harder to keep the mean, domineering persona he tried to. When you were being this sweet, when you were being so good for him.

The crop fell again, this time your hips did roll. Just enough to dull the ache between your legs, a momentary release that had you melting further into his chest.

Eddie didn't miss it, pulling you closer to him, readjusting you on his thigh. "I don't know if I believe you." Eddie hummed, cracking the crop down again in short, sharp successions. "Are you really gonna be good to me? For the rest of time?"

You whimpered, hips rocking slowly, a steady rhythm that nearly had your eyes rolling back. The burning stretch of your ass mixed with the slow, pleasure-filled rolls of your hips.

"I will, I promise." You hummed in a high, breathy tone. "I swear I will be. I'll be a good wife for you. Forever and ever and ever."

Eddie's heart nearly burst at the words. How sweet they still sounded, even if you had technically been his wife for a few weeks now.

He let the paddle fall, his hands grabbing at your waist, pulling you into his lap. Lips on yours, your legs wrapping around his hips before he rolled the two of you, body slotting over yours, drunken giggles filling the air.

Hand intertwining with the other, Eddie's eyes rolled back at the feeling of your ring scraping over his when he finally slid into you. Mrs. Munson, forever. Forever his, just as he was forever yours.

Eddie had you pressed against the window of the suite, hips rutting into the fat of your ass, marked with the etching heart shape of the paddle. Overlooking the city's skyline, the sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon. Your cheek pressed to the window, Eddie's pressed to yours, skin smushed to skin, the two of you weren't close to being done. Just getting started, started on forever, started on a life together.

For now, in a hotel room in Vegas, insatiably happy and in love with one another. Mr. and Mrs. Munson, for the second time.

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