#even though trying to word my thoughts on them was... very difficult lol
Note
Can we hear about your milgram oc 🥺🥺
( no pressure ofc )
I have 12 Milgram OCs! But now there are only 8 ( or 9 ? ) people who have stories. I'll introduce them to you!!↓
(I use Translate app and my little abilities, hope you can read and understand it.)
In Samleegram, We have 2 prison guards and 10 prisoners
Prison Guards
[000]
Name : Es (エス)
CV : Sakamoto Maaya (坂本 真綾)
Gender : Unknown
Age : 15
Birthday : Unknown
Height : 153 cm.
Bloodtype : Unknown
Image color : #8EC6BB (Monte Carlo)
Es bright and cheerful, They is close to almost every prisoner. They always make free time to talk with prisoners. But no one knew that they was secretly recording prisoners' information all the time.
They patrolled at night every day. Many people think it's because they works hard. But actually they was just trying to find a way out of here.
Es often gets teased by Ar for being short. So they asks Jackalope for a new pair of shoes. That makes them 160 cm tall. which is higher than Ar. LOL
((Es rarely wears a hat because it makes seeing difficult.😢 Es always cooks for everyone to eat, sometimes some prisoners come to help them. (but Ar doesn't help.)))
__________
[000]
Name : Ar (アル)
CV : Uchiyama Yumi (内山 夕実)
Gender : Unknown
Age : 15
Birthday : Unknown
Height : 159 cm.
Bloodtype : Unknown
Image color : #8EB8C6 (Polo Blue)
In fact, Ar was the assistant prison guard. Its main duty is to interrogate prisoners. They was verbally violent during the interrogation. In this prison, there was hardly anyone to like them. (← It should be like that)
Ar is very foul-mouthed and has a temper. (💀) Do you see that whistle? They usually blow it when prisoners don't behave as they please. ( Why does it sound cute..? )
((Ar doesn't often wear hats either. But it's because he's just lazy. Sometimes Ar wears Es’s hat because Ar can't find their own.))
__________
Prisoners
[021]
Name : Kinoshita Haru (木下 晴)
CV : Kitamura Eri (喜多村 英梨)
Gender : Female
Age : 22
Birthday : January 6
Height : 173 cm.
Bloodtype : A
Image color : #F59795 (Wewak)
Haru hardly speaks to anyone. She usually communicates by writing on the board. She also isn't good at facial expressions, which makes some people think she's strange.
Haru often smokes with Masato (024) regularly. And She seem to be trying to approach Akihiko (26) for unknown reasons.
She used to like to sing and play music, she used to set up a band with a close friend before. But why did she stop doing it? Hmmm? you'll have to wait until this part of the story is revealed.✌️
((I intend to design Haru to look like a man. Due to her past story But she is a woman. However You can use the anypronoun with her that she/her he/him or they/them. She doesn't seriously about this.))
__________
[022]
Name : Murata Kei (村田 軽 )
CV : Murata Ayumu (村瀬 歩)
Gender : Male
Age : 14
Birthday : August 19
Height : 154 cm.
Bloodtype : AB
Image color : #BCCCD1 (Link Water)
Kei is the youngest prisoner. He has dark circles under his eyes that are clearly visible. It's because he almost didn't sleep. Even though he went to sleep, he had a nightmare anyway, so he thought it was better to take that time to study.
He often said that he was not guilty , Never kill people , Milgram caught him wrong. And he wanted to leave here very much. 'My father will definitely find me.' He always said that.
Kei looks particularly close to Hinata(023), maybe because of his similar age, he often follows her like a chick(?) Everyone in prison always sees them next to each other.
((He used to ask for cosmetics from Es, so Es thought that in fact, he might love beauty?))
__________
[023]
Name : Tsugiyama Hinata (杉山 日向)
CV : Hanazawa Kana (花澤 香菜)
Gender : Female
Age : 15
Birthday : March 23
Height : 148 cm.
Bloodtype : A
Image color : #F4CFC5 (Coral Candy)
Hinata is a friendly person and always talks to others. Everyone sees her cheerful and looks polite all the time. But once in a while she accidentally slipped out of a rude word. Make everyone shock…
She bandaged her arms all the time. Ritsu (028) volunteered to change the bandage for her often, but she often refused him and did it on her own. She didn't want anyone to see the that wound.
Hinata didn't have the attitude of wanting to leave milgram at all. Hinata thought that this place was much more comfortable than her house. If not sticking to the vote that she didn't like it.
((Hinata doesn't like the uniform that Milgram provides. Because it makes everyone see the bandage clearly.💢))
__________
[024]
Name : Kimura Masato (木村 正人)
CV : Hirata Hiroki (平田 広明)
Gender : Male
Age : 43
Birthday : February 20
Height : 187 cm.
Bloodtype : O
Image color : #78BC8E (Bay Leaf)
He is the oldest person in milgram. He lived a sluggish life as if he had completely lost faith in this world. Sometimes he acted like a father of children in prison.👴
Masato talks to Ritsu(028) most often. discussing life problems, adult edition (sounds depressing). He often smokes with Haru(021) on a regular basis, even if the other party lets him talk to a single swim.
Masato didn't pay much attention to milgram, But if he could choose, he wanted to get out of here, Because he still didn't complete his duty.
((He thinks it's not bad to have free cigarettes.))
__________
[026]
Name : Matsui Akihiko (松井 昭彦)
CV : Taniyama Kishou (谷山 紀章)
Gender : Male
Age : 18
Birthday : April 1
Height : 169 cm.
Bloodtype : A
Image color : #FFBF65 (Rajah)
I haven't made much of his story yet. But as you can see, He's not very friendly.
Akihiko often quarrels with Ar regularly (He actually quarrels with everyone but.. uh… with Ar the most.)
__________
[028]
Name : Itsuki Ritsu (樹 律)
CV : Furukawa Makoto (古川 慎)
Gender : Male
Age : 35
Birthday : June 30
Height : 182 cm.
Bloodtype : B
Image color : #3359BF (Cerulean Blue)
Please marry m- NO, I mean, Ritsu always takes care of others, maybe because he's a doctor, so he's trusted by everyone.
He is very close to Masato(024), probably because Masato is the male of his age closest to himself.
((Look at his smile ^^ 🥺))
__________
[030]
Name : Higuchi Ryota (樋口 僚太)
CV : Uchida Yuma (内田 雄馬)
Gender : Male
Age : 20
Birthday : October 12
Height : 174 cm.
Bloodtype : O
Image color : #C1D48C (Deco)
Ryota doesn't have any other information yet, I'll update it later!
__________
Thank you for reading to the end!!
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I want to kiss you / キスしたい
G. Satoru
NOTE: i recently started learning to write in japanese for not much reason other than to occupy my mind with something new. this little daydream came to me and i can't stop thinking about it, i think falling in love despite a language barrier is one of the purest and sweetest ways to fall in love.
WARNINGS — it might be fem reader idk, kissing 👍, ur married w him at the end, not proofread lol i'm snuggled up in bed ok
Satoru cant speak english and you cant speak japanese; Suguru is the translator friend. You met him online years ago, who knows how. But you hit it off, and four years of friendship rolled by.
Satoru heard all about Y/n and saw you many times when Suguru facetimed or called you. You and him had many cute, playful interactions, ranging from making hearthands at each other to flipping each other off and laughing about it. Sometimes Satoru would be sat off-camera, overloading Suguru with things to translate, because he had a lot to say to you. One time, Suguru left for a few minutes to get a pizza delivery, and then Satoru got very quiet and the two of you blinked at your screens.
"Hi."
"Hi."
And then you two for some reason started laughing with your whole chests, Suguru walked in with a confused smirk. He joked, "Sooo... what did you and Satoru talk about while I was gone?" He asked, gentle accent coming through in soft waves. "The mysteries of the universe." You replied. Satoru was already diving into the pizza box, but he still listened to you speak; he wondered what you had said, maybe you used some fancy words to say that you liked him? He'd be lying if he said he didn't memorize variations of "i like you" after that. He was paranoid that he could miss you saying that you liked him.
You managed a slow, meticulously-pronounced nice to meet you in Japanese when you finally visited Tokyo. It was at the airport. You and Suguru had shared many hugs — good grief, you'd seen height comparisons many times but none painted a real idea of just how big these boys were. But Satoru? He was loudmouthed on a screen and surprisingly shy in person. Eventually he hugged you and didn't let go. He even got so comfy as to hang and cling to your body like you saw him doing with Suguru in countless photos and videos.
Though you could barely pronounce the little Japanese that you picked up, Satoru felt giddy to hear your pretty voice in his language. He listened to you like you were reciting love poetry to him, fists under his chin and eyes starry. But you were just saying basic phrases, boring things — nothing that articulated your thoughts properly.
He was far too embarrassed to try and speak any English when he first met you, even though after developing a crush on you he did start learning some English on the side. He knew quite a bit, but listening was so impossibly difficult it frustrated him like nothing else. He was also self-conscious of his English accent, though Suguru tried to assure him that he sounded very cute and almost oddly British.
So often instead of attempting to speak tiny phrases to you, Satoru threw a lot of hand motions and signals your way which got the two of you and Suguru laughing — poor Sugie, he was always translating even the smallest things you said even if you muttered them under your breath, because Satoru was eager to know every little thought and expression you had, even if you were simply commenting on the weather.
Once you commented that it was so hot, you were visiting during a heatwave-filled summer. Satoru raised his brows at Suguru expectantly, and you heard a familiar translation;
暑い。
It's hot.
There was such a frustrating language barrier between the two of you, it became more evident when you had finally flown over the sea to meet them.
Yet you and satoru fell in love silently and beautifully, your love flowing like a river in the most unexpected directions. You felt his affection emanating from his irises. You and him joked around, and talked — though you had no idea what the other meant most of the time. Sometimes the two of you gave up and you talked in English, he responded with Japanese, and it went on like that very comedically until Suguru came back to bridge the gap.
Lots of time was spent putting your heads together over your phone, reading translations of what you wanted to say to each other.
One day, when Suguru left the two of you alone in his apartment kitchen so that he could hop to the convenience store, Satoru typed something into the translator and let you read it. Your face warmed up.
キスしたい。
I want to kiss you.
He looks at you expectantly.
You type back to him.
Then kiss me.
それからキスして。
He blushed and hesistated, the two of you making electric eye contact for a while before he boyishly pecked your lips to test if you liked his kiss, but oh that's all the two of you needed to realize just how much you liked each other. You melted into each other like your bodies were made for nothing else but to embrace and be one. He shook a little, tentatively gliding his lips over yours. His hands nervously cupped your cheeks. With the way he handled you so carefully, you'd think you were made of porcelain.
Your reciprocation meant everything to him. His confidence flourished. The soft smacking, wet sounds got louder when he kissed you more passionately. Those gentle hands found their way to the back of your neck, and he softly pressed you closer to him as if he was scared you would pull away. What if you changed your mind mid-kiss? He was overthinking and you wouldn't have even guessed it, because you thought he was in the same blissed out dream state as you were. So high on kissing that the world fell away.
The two of you started smiling embarrassedly, grinning so hard that you couldn't continue kissing. Then the two of you just giggled against each other's faces — a subconscious realization swept him; laughter and kissing are their own languages.
Yes as years passed and you visited time and time again, your Japanese improved and his English improved. When you moved to Japan, eventually you adopted a messy mix of Japanese and English with Satoru. He liked showing off how perfectly he could pronounce things, and you liked showing off that you could write very neat kana.
Years and years and years passed and when you and him were married in your own little apartment, starting a life together, a very fluent Satoru reminisced about how the two of you fell in love despite barely speaking to each other.
"It was your eyes for me." You said.
"Oh really? It was your voice for me. I didn't know what you were saying, but it sounded nice." He said.
"Mmm I liked your voice, too." You said, snuggling your head on his shoulder. He basked in the attention, though it was common, it always felt special for him. The smallest hand touches and wrist kisses made his heart lurch.
"Remember when I always nagged Suguru to translate every little thing you said?"
"Yeah, you worked him to the bone." You chuckled.
"I just wanted to know what you were saying. I had such a crush on you, looking back now it was even ridiculous how much I liked you considering the barrier and all."
"Ooh, did you?"
"How is this surprising? We're married??"
"Oh yeah."
#🗑️ — trash#♥️ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 — 五条悟#gojo#gojo satoru#fluff#gojo fluff#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x fem reader#satoru x reader#gojou satoru x reader#jjk gojo#satoru gojo
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PRIVATE LESSONS – Sanji x female reader
Summary: on what is supposed to be another of your private cooking lessons, you and Sanji get closer... in a very intimate way.
Pairing: Sanji x female reader.
Word count: 2k.
Warnings: pure fucking, dirty, obscene fingerfucking smut, some plot, heavy hand kink, eye contact, language (also reader thinks herself as a slut at some point), fingering, cum play(?), semi-public, praising, pet names (darling, sweetheart, good girl...).
Notes: this is just full of smut so yeah. Idk, this is my realization that I am a Sanji whore. Enjoy you sinners. And I'm sorry for any errors as English is not my main language. (I'll keep apologizing for this lol).
☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !
Probably will make a part 2 to consumate this shit, but I can't promise I will...
GEN MASTERLIST!
Months ago, you started at the Baratie as a waitress but your biggest wish was cooking. And Sanji was there to help you with that. You had absolutely no idea how to start, lucky for you, the blonde chef of the restaurant was aware of your dreams. So you started lessons after your shift.
"Can't deny the wishes of a pretty thing like you," you remembered Sanji saying when you finally asked him to teach you. He winked and put a playful smirk on his lips.
Yes, Sanji was a flirt - but he was a flirt with everyone. So you never took personally his random comments and hits, until you started your cooking classes.
The Baratie was always closed and there was no one but Sanji and you in the kitchen. He had started with the basic stuff, like chopping vegetables and soft meat, and making easy entries and sidedishes.
There was a problem though. This was almost the fourth week you were receiving his lessons and you found out there was something distracting you a lot recently: his hands.
His beautiful, strong hands, that, in a delicate manner, would slice a fish and would convert it in the most delicious dish you ever tasted ever. You became so immersed in his hands doing little to nothing. Even if Sanji wasn't cooking, just fixing his hair or having a cigarrette, everything you could keep your focus on was his beautiful fingers, sometimes wearing pretty rings and jewels around them. And the way the veins on his big hands would appear... Gods, your mind started to wonder a lot of things and it was becoming difficult keeping your focus on the special salad you were preparing that night.
"You're doing great, love," Sanji whispered, staying right behind you and monitoring carefully your chopping like an inspector.
His sweet words were no help for you at all. With a deep breath, you finished with the last eggplant. Sanji immediately came closer and leaned behind your back, and you controled the loud gasp that was about to burst. You felt his strong body pressed against your own, and he suddenly grabbed your hand still holding the knife to start chopping a small piece of the eggplant you just finished. His arms were now sorrounding your figure as he guided softly on how you were supposed to cut it.
"Just make sure to cut them like this, see?"
All you could give was a nod. Fuck, you felt so embarrassed, hypnotized by his hands working on the must mundane activities in the whole world, grabbing firmly the knife between his fingers.
Those thick fingers you fantasized about late at night; not letting you pay attention to the important things Sanji would say to you about cooking. Those fingers you wished to have inside you right now, to lick them, to suck on them until they were completely dry... You rub your thighs together and try to keep your thoughts locked to continue with the lesson.
"Yeah, I see now. Thanks, Sanji," you were surprised you were actually able to talk.
You heard his chuckle behind you before shifting and come by your side, leaving you free of his grip and the warmth of his hands that you were already missing.
"Lets plate then."
Sanji guided you on how to place each ingredient on the bowl, making it harder for you to follow his pace. It took longer than you expected, but you were trying to keep your shit together; your skirt and shirt suddenly felt too tight on your figure and you tried to not rub your thighs, even if you wished for some friction right now.
Once the bowl was done, Sanji took the small plate with the sauce you prepared earlier and gave it a delicate taste, licking the spoon with his tongue.
Why did he look so hot just by doing anything? Was he aware of the effect he had in you lately? Was he teasing you? Or where you just hot and bothered already? No answer you had for any of those questions.
Sanji wrinkled his brows, savoring the sauce with such delicacy, and after a moment or so of thinking he looked at you.
"I think something is missing," he said.
"What? I put everything that was on the recipe for the sauce." In a swift move, you took the spoon from his hand and had a taste yourself. "Seems okay for me."
The chef tsked. "Darling, you need to taste it differently. Deeper, go further than usual."
Sanji dipped his forefinger on the sauce and brought it to your lips. With hesitation, you opened your mouth and licked the sauce from his finger, not only tasting the sauce but savouring the moment. Was he aware of how you looked at his hands? You were not going to question it. Not when you carefully wrapped your soft lips around him, closing your eyes slowly, arousal building up between your legs. His words were no help either, it was like if he was testing the waters and so were you.
You felt Sanji pulling out his finger from your mouth and you let out a soft moan. You wanted to snap yourself. He smirked, he obviously heard your pretty noise.
"Sorry..." you were ashamed but the burning desire was growing and winning over you. What a fucking slut, you thought to yourself. It didn't matter right now. You just had a taste of his fingers.
"So what'd you say?" Sanji interrupted the voice inside your head.
Your dark eyes looked intensely his charming blue ones. "I still think the taste is good."
Sanji leaned down, almost brushing your lips and looking like if he was forcing himself to not press his lips to yours right there and then. Until he did. He captured your lips in a heated and rough kiss, his tongue finding its way into your mouth and tasting the sauce and the sweetness of your plump lips. One of his hands cupped your cheek and the other pulled you closer, forcing your back to press against the counter. Now, you were trapped between his body and the surface.
A moan escaped your throat and Sanji happily swallowed it on the heated make out session you shared. He lifted you up so you were sitting on the empty side of the counter, taking shallow breaths, as he stood between your parted legs, stroking the skin of your thighs without any rush.
"I've noticed you look at my hands so attentively," he mumbled, biting your lower lip softly. You gasped, but he continued. "Why's that?"
His question left you speechless for a moment. Did he really need to ask?
"Sanji, I already licked your finger..."
His palms traced their way under your skirt, and his fingers teased your inner thighs, finding the fabric covering your wet core.
"Well, darling, doesn't that mean we can go further? Deeper?"
"Go ahead then," you mumbled, full of lust. Your skin was aching already for him and this was all you needed to feel complete. Him.
With that, his fingers rubbed you softly over your panties, pressing on the wet patch you were already making. Sanji smirked and he leaned to pay attention to the delicate skin on your neck. His lips pressed soft kisses, leaving a trail of them, until he found the sweet spot that made you melt into his touch, nibbling and sliding his tongue against your neck until he met your collarbone.
"Sanji..." the soft whimper past your lips and you held your breath, eyes closed as he hiked up your uniform skirt and puts aside the panties covering your core from him.
His name falling off your lips made his cock inside his trousers twitch, restraining himself to not fuck you right there in the counter until the only thing that was on your mind was his name and only him. Right now, he decided he would take care of you first. As you deserved it.
"So fucking wet for me, sweetheart," he groaned, forehead pressing against yours.
His fingers found your pussy, spreading your folds softly, coating them with your already dripping juices. Sanji rubbed your clit and he teased your entrance, going at an agonizing rhythm. All you wanted was for him to fuck you with his fingers. Now. You started to grind your hips, needing some more friction, knowing he would get the hint of your despair.
"Please, Sanji," you whined.
Sanji chuckled, and you felt pathetic for begging. You could tell he was enjoying your squirm. His free hand cupped the nape of your neck forcing your dark eyes to look at his own directly.
"Look at me," Sanji ordered. "Do not dare to close your eyes, darling."
You bit your lip and nodded, gripping tightly the edge of the counter.
"Good girl," he whispered with a raspy voice, and with a lustful smile on his lips. "I want to see you come undone."
And with his statement, he eased one digit inside your velvety walls. You moaned louder this time.
"Fuck, you're so ready for me," Sanji growled, noticing how obvious the ache between your thighs was. "You're perfect, darling," he cooed against your lips. His praising caused your walls to clench around him, gaining another dark smile from the blonde man.
The thrusts of his finger started in a delicate pace. Instantly, your eyes clenched, breath hitching, as he filled you up. Sanji gradually increased his pace, curling his finger to reach your deepest spot, and you felt your juices coating your thighs with his moves.
"You look at me, don't forget," Sanji whispered, his other hand now cupping your cheek. You obeyed, opening your eyes for him.
A second finger made its way inside your cunt and he pumped them harder this time. Your legs were spreading wider, moaning against his lips, dying to kiss him one more time. But you tried your hardest to mantain the deep eye contact, realizing where you were right now. In the empty kitchen of the Baratie, with the blonde chef between your legs, fucking you with his pretty fingers. Those he protected and took care of so attentively.
And now, the only place Sanji wanted to have his fingers on was inside of you. You looked flushed, sweaty and simply gorgeous, cyring and whimpering. All for him. Your pussy was throbbing and you let a rather loud and erotic moan.
"Shit, I'm so close," you cried.
"Just come for me, beautiful..."
His lips catching your swollen ones in a heated kiss. He curled up his fingers, thumb rubbing your clit softly. Your hips trying to meet the thrusts of his hand desperately, your smooth walls clenching around his digits. Sanji realized he enjoyed the control and power he had over you as you reached your heavenly climax. He loved it more than he could ever think of.
Your body trembled, and finally, you felt sweet release hitting you, walls spasming in ecstasy around his fingers. Foreheads still touching, eyes locked as he watched you come undone. Exactly like he wanted it to be.
You moaned his name under your breath over and over, filled with pleassure. Sanji felt your thighs closing and your pussy contracting around his digits. He let you catch your breath for a moment, enjoying the heat of your body. For the first time, Sanji then pulled away his forehead, remaining still between your legs, and slowly removing his fingers from your throbbing cunt, eyes looking directly to your wetness.
Still covered with your juices, Sanji used both his hands to spread your folds obscenely to get a better look at your pussyhole. Fuck, you felt so exposed to him, but you couldn't care less. You had a mindblowing orgasm just moments ago.
"Fuck-" you cried.
"So beautiful," he praised. Again, you whimpered and your hips bucked a little.
Sanji pushed a finger slowly inside you, just to gather more of your sweetness, so he could finally have a taste. He licked both fingers he used on you before, humming like he had found the best meal in days.
"So how is it?" you finally asked, teasing him.
"Sweetheart, you're delicious."
You laughed softly, realising you totally forgot about the dish you were preparing that night. "Is this included on your private lessons, Sanji?"
"Only if you want," he leaned down to share a last kiss, this time more gentle than the others.
He already knew your answer.
#opla sanji x reader#opla sanji smut#opla sanji#opla sanji x female reader#op!la sanji x reader#op!la sanji x female reader#op!la sanji smut#one piece sanji live action#sanji x female reader#sanji x reader#sanji smut#one piece netflix#one piece sanji one shot#one piece live action fanfiction
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Switching Up Roles - Part 1/2 (Buggy x Reader)
A/N: So the request got insaaaaanely out of hand cuz I can't shut the fuck up about this stupid clown 🙃 In the future I gotta have requests ask for headcanons, full fic, or headcanons with drabbles in the future so I can put a cap on my brain lol I had also been wanting to write Switch!Buggy learning to embrace the sub part of himself. I wanted to get part of it out and the set up cuts off pretty cleanly here. There is a taste of smut in it, but it stays with the style of the exposition for the most part instead of really delving into it.
Word count: ~1760 (The draft is at 8100 rn 🧍🏻♀️)
Warnings: afab!reader (no pronouns), switch!reader, switch!Buggy, NSFW, p in v, creampie, they're like probably too into each other, Buggy leans towards opla Buggy, I have a propensity to just keep sentences going man
I hope you enjoy a taste and thank you for your patience 🙏🏻
Part 2
~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~
You’d always had a hunch about Buggy. It started with little things like how his grunts and moans would sometimes slip in and out of something more whiny and breathy. How the look in his eyes would turn from something rabid and devouring into something desperate and uncertain. Maybe he was just more comfortable using the whole range of his voice than most men. Maybe that look just came from the insecurity in him that you were constantly trying to wring out with every lingering hug and reassuring whisper.
Speaking of those, he drank them up like an addict. Now, it’s not like you think it’s abnormal to enjoy soft touches and sweet words; everyone wants those from their partner in one form or another. The thing is, Buggy seemed to hang on those words with extra ardor. He’d focus on you like nothing else existed. He’d twist and turn both himself and his comfort zone in order to receive them. Whenever he accomplished something, whether it was as big as defeating a new enemy or as small as making a new joke, he would turn his face to seek you out like a plant’s leaves reaching to feel the sun. He’d go to you whenever he was uncertain. Difficult announcements were made with you within arm’s reach, vital decisions were made with you sitting thigh to thigh, and battles were fought with the two of you back to back.
Despite his status as captain, Buggy was always following you. Of course, he was the one in charge, the one who gave orders, but you were the one for whom he would change those orders or redirect his path. When you entered a room, he was the one to go to you. It was only on rare occasions that he’d order you to him like an owner would a dog. His calls for you were greetings, that is if he wasn’t getting up to lead you in himself. Buggy did know how to demand but he preferred to handle you with invitations.
Even so, you were well versed in Buggy leading you to touch or lay where and how he wanted. The extending months of your relationship have been filled with the two of you pushing and pulling at each other, empty of any thoughts and aims other than the need you had for each other. He has growled out commands and desires, expecting you to do just as he asked and he fit the role of manhandling you into a compliant sub very well. There were times when it seemed to be just that though - a role. Not every time; the more starved for your body he seemed, the more he’d take you just how he wanted. Now that you were months in and the pent up “what if”s were easing into the new joy of deep connection, his need for your body settled to hunger while his appetite for connecting to You became insatiable. Being able to allocate more time to exploring each other let latent behaviors break through the frantic way that you two tried to consume one another. Buggy had always aimed for your pleasure, hitting steady bullseyes, but now he was consciously seeking it and looking for new avenues to sate you and file them away for the future. He gained the clarity to observe while he was flooding himself with you.
You also noticed that with this change of pace came his need to chase your movements. You don’t think Buggy was even aware of the way he would lean his body towards you no matter the time or place, the way he would follow your lips whenever you pulled away, or the way his body would seek out your hands and happily mold to their movements like you were an artist working with clay. There was the way he seemed almost relieved when you would guide him. It appeared that he savored the time to unload the responsibility of decisions onto someone else but he had never known anyone he could trust to give him that peace before.
You understood that need. The rush you got when you only had to think of pleasing him and then hearing him tell you how good you were at doing just that? It was euphoria all on its own. It had you feeling like you knew in your core that you were doing something right and that you were making your love feel good - feel proud and happy. While you enjoyed partaking in it yourself, you had no problem taking control to give that to Buggy. Honestly it was a dynamic that was sounding tastier by the day. Seeing him act out of need for your direction and approval made you crave it more each time. You were eager to see him when he loses himself in the role of being what you want. You’re positive he’d take to it well; all you want is him after all, but now that he’s given pieces of himself to you, you want all of him. You want him to expose his needs to you, right down to the core of his desires, so that you could feel the thrill of holding that trust and vulnerability. You want to prove to him that he is always safe with you and that you can fulfill all that he wants and more.
One night a few weeks back, you got the final evidence you needed to feel confident labeling him as a switch like yourself. It was one of the few times Buggy was letting you ride him when he was close (he seemed to be embarrassed of the way it would pull out higher pitched moans from him, no matter how you complimented them), and he had let himself fall further into acting without thought than he usually would beneath you. His typical grapple with composure was replaced by him melting into bliss, leaving you a Buggy who was slack-jawed, glassy eyed, and trembling. You could still feel some hesitancy in the way he kept making his eyes focus on you even when they wanted to roll back or the way he would reign in his volume after a particularly (and deliciously) loud moan. His hands still went through the motions of guiding your hips, but this time your hips were pushing into that heavy grip instead of his hold directing the bounce and grind of your body on his.
Even though the feeling of his cock splitting you open and rubbing deliciously from your clenching entrance to the deepest stretch of your cunt left you struggling for thought, you were determined to keep an eye out for his tells that he would try to flip you back over. Whenever Buggy blinked some focus back into his eyes, you leaned down and captured his panting mouth in sloppy kisses. His eagerness to feel your swollen lips and teasing tongue made it easy to kiss his mind back into a blur. When he planted a hand down and sat himself up, you tightened your core to clench down on him and changed to the heavy grinds that made him weak with the way he could feel every hot, plush inch of you gripping him. He fell down to his elbow, but when you followed him to nibble at his ear and fill it with moans, he lost all his strength and collapsed back on the bed.
You kept at it because you needed to cum on top of him. The promise of a body shaking orgasm always came to you in the squeeze of your thighs around his waist, the grind of his pelvis on your clit, the way you could change your angle to have the head of his cock massaging whichever spot felt the most electric in the moment. It took hold of your mind with the way you got to look down on him spread out beneath you while he looked up at you with that desperate face. You could see how steeped he was in pleasure and need from his furrowed brow and shining eyes. Buggy always fell into the most beautiful, incoherent mess when you were the one leading him. His long blue hair spread out wildly, the few strands sticking to his face bringing out his pink flush. His gorgeous eyes, highlighted by stripes of blue makeup and long fluttering lashes, glistened up at you. His painted red mouth looked all the more tempting with how his kiss-wet lips parted for him to gasp in air and breathe out moans.
With little warning, Buggy sobbed out an overwhelmed, “Fuuu-hah-huuuuck,” and the next thing you knew strong hands yanked you down and he trapped you close in an iron grip. His forehead dug into your neck and his humid breath tingled down your chest. All you could feel, hear, smell was Buggy - so much burning skin, jumbled curses, lingering sea salt. His hands scrambled on your back, pulling you closer like he needed it to live, and amidst all the sensation you felt his cock pressed tight into you, twitching heavily with each wave of hot cum it pumped into you. It shoved you immediately far over the edge and you curled into him, squeezing and shaking and grabbing and gasping. You got what you were promised and your body shook, letting you get extra jolts of friction against his still pulsing cock.
The come down was slow and lethargic with the two of you molded to each other and unwilling to leave the moment behind. Your breaths eventually slowed while you both enjoy giving and receiving little trailing touches. Your brain was high from the intense orgasm and the building joy that you can finally open the door on this aspect of your relationship where Buggy lets himself submit.
That is, until he ruins it.
Both of you were too tired to say much of anything through the swift cleanup and release to slumber. You didn’t think anything of it, because it wasn’t the first time it happened. You did start to catch on to Buggy’s avoidance when he would find convenient ways to dance around the topic or disappear when you were leading up to it. It became unquestionable when he started to run out of clever escape routes. The final straw was when you approached him with an “I wanna talk about the other night” and he did a 180 with a panicked “forgot some captain stuff for the thing” yelled back to you. So you let it drop. For a time.
You spotted your opportunity just over three weeks after you’d dropped the subject. Buggy continued to slip around you for almost two of those weeks, approaching you with the same caution a child would when entering a haunted house on a dare. He held the same nervous excitement and insatiable curiosity too. The whole time, you pretended that you hadn’t noticed. You were well practiced in the art of playing blind; Buggy wore his emotions on his sleeve whether he wanted to or not, and he loved that you would let him pretend some of it didn’t happen. Even though he knew you sometimes played it to your advantage and still let most of your comments and cackles out during his outbursts and foibles. He just paid you back for those with his own tricks and teasing and all’s fair in love and war.
You knew not to strike right away. You needed to reaaaaally let him settle back into normalcy between you two so that The Incident wasn’t on his mind. Not that you’d been able to get it out of yours; you were endlessly replaying the memory of him being seized by instinct and impulse so violently that he clung to you like he could never be close enough while you made him cum so hard that his dick felt like someone was jolting a toy inside you. Whether the imagery came to you on purpose or involuntarily, it always had you squirming and looking for some way to get off.
Today had been especially filled with that memory, but luck was on your side, finally ready to reward you for your patience. Buggy had been getting a bit exhausted recently, prepping the crew, the ship, and everything on it for a risky raid happening next week. It would be the culmination of a few months planning, and he had been running himself ragged making sure that everything would go smoothly. And, when it didn’t, there was a backup plan and at least two more backup plans for that one.
He had been seeking rest from you more than interaction the past few days - falling asleep almost immediately after getting back to his room late, giving you long hugs where he’d close his eyes if only for a minute and let you hold up some of his weight, scarfing down his food so he could power nap with his head on your thigh while you finished your own meal. If he was doing something that only needed one hand, he’d send the other to you so he could have the comfort of your touch and the pick me up from feeling your occasional squeeze on it. He had to find and stop you the time you decided to massage his overworked hand, because the relaxing feeling had him zoning out through full conversations.
All that to say, the man clearly needed someone to force a break on him and take care of him. Just as clearly, Buggy was needing that care from you so much that he was allowing himself to seek you out in ways that he (wrongfully) feared would annoy or drain you. His exhaustion outweighing that sea-sized insecurity of his was the cue you’d been looking out for. If he really didn’t want to be submissive to you then that’s fine, but you’d be damned if it was just his own negative self-talk keeping the two of you from feeling that way again or from bonding even closer with another dynamic to exchange trust and affection. After all, that act of trust being met with affection is one of the best ways to chip away at his self-doubt and self-loathing.
~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~
More to come - hope you enjoyed 🤍
#buggy the clown#buggy x reader#opla buggy x reader#buggy x you#buggy x y/n#one piece#my writing#thirst hours#gn reader#afab reader#x reader
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mr. nice guy ✴︎ ms47
genre: 18+, pwp (very little plot), very very filthy, fem!reader
word count: 4.3k (of smut. you’ve been warned)
Mick Schumacher is the paddock’s golden boy. He likes upholding this reputation, but there’s something nagging at him lately that makes it... difficult.
nsfw warnings under the cut!
18+ because… penetrative sex, anal sex; like descriptive anal, dirty talk (praise central!!), crying, breeding, rough sex, size kink, some squirting?, requires suspension of belief regarding the inner workings of anal lol
hope you like it everyone! :) i finished it early so revising can kiss my butt ahhaaha.
Mick has a secret.
It’s more of a problem than a secret (to him at least), and it concerns you. But it’s not that he feels the spark is gone, and it’s definitely not that he feels like breaking things off with you. Between you both, everything’s been good and steady despite how demanding his career is. Sometimes, if time permits, you’ll go out to dinner during a race weekend, or even spend more than a few days with each other.
Point is—he’s more than happy with your relationship. Even the sex is good, and like everything else, you two are just compatible in that department. Up until last month, actually, Mick had been okay. And then Lando just had to open his loud mouth during a game of poker in Charles’ hotel room, during a conversation about a girl he’d slept with the night before.
“I didn’t know girls were into that,” George had said, curious. Nobody was really paying attention to the poker anymore, everyone turned toward Lando. He’d smiled, a smug, cheeky little git.
“Oh, some are. But if you want to try, chances are you’ll be the one asking.”
“Really?” Mick had interjected. He’d been quiet for the duration of the discussion, so it comes as a bit of a surprise. George and Lando had shared a smirk, a look. Then Lando’d said passively: “Yeah, Mick. Didn’t pin you as a guy who’d be into that, though.”
“Hmm,” Mick mused. He didn’t pin himself as that kind of guy either. Sex with you isn’t necessarily vanilla—it can get rough—but for some reason, Mick just isn’t that guy. But with Lando, being into that had made sense. His sexcapades always have a thrill to them, an edge.
“Yeah,” Charles had quipped, smirking now, too. “Because… well, you’re a nice guy, Mick.”
He is a nice guy. A sweet guy. Fans call him cute all the time. So he figures this new pressing dilemma won’t press. Except it does press—thoughts of being able to play with you, possess you that way irk him well into the night.
So, now, Mick’s faced with the resulting problem-and/or-secret, and it won’t be solved unless he tells you. Because, really: how does any sane guy respectfully tell his girlfriend he wants to fuck her ass?
He’ll try. Anyway, he figures the timing is perfect: you’ve taken time off work to come and visit him for a week at the Las Vegas launch. As soon as you’d arrived at his room, he had you on his bed being fucked within an inch of your life—an instance that repeated itself many times over the course of the last few days.
Mick tries to trace the reasons why he feels a bit shy about telling you. Maybe because everyone thinks he’s a sweet guy, and sweet guys aren’t into things like these. Even if you know he gets a little less sweet in bed, he thinks this is still uncharted territory for the both of you.
“Babe?” He calls, snapping out of his reverie.
“Still changing,” you yell, muffled by the door to the bathroom.
He gets up, stretches, and knocks twice anyway; the sight of you unclothed isn’t novel to him. You open it and stare up. “Yeah?”
“I need to get my AirPods, I think I left them on the vanity.”
“Oh, fuck. Sure. Come in.” You let the door open all the way and he enters, pressing a kiss to your hair as he searches for his earphones. You’re half-dressed, in a tiny tee and lace panties, hair disheveled and thrown over one shoulder. You bend over to rifle through your luggage and he gulps. He’s a sweet guy.
You huff, yanking a pair of jeans out of your suitcase. “I have no good clothes anymore.”
“Nonsense. Everything looks great on you,” your boyfriend replies, taking his AirPods from where they rest on the dresser.
You smile and scoff playfully, placing the jeans back inside before pulling out a dress. “The Mick Schumacher complimenting me? God, what’d I ever do to deserve this?” You turn to the large mirror, holding the dress in front of your body to envision how it might look. From this angle, your back is to him, ergo, he can see your pert ass clearly, flexing with every pose you make for the dress. He blinks hard.
You even lift your hair into a makeshift bun to try and see how the dress looks, but still you seem frustrated. “It looks great, babe,” he cuts in. “I promise.”
“Does it?” You turn back around to show him the dress, pouting. “I dunno. Something’s a bit off. Or maybe the shirt’s just ruining the look.” You toss him the dress, which lands on his face—it’s satin and smells like you. When it slides off his face and into his grip, you’re already halfway through tugging your shirt off.
Underneath you’re wearing a bra that matches the underwear—pretty, white lace—and Mick feels his heart thrum heavily. He’s a sweet guy, though. So he tosses you your dress when you reach out for it and watches you pull it on for real this time. “Huh,” you muse. “You were right.”
“Of course I was,” he says with a laugh, coming up behind you. His height advantage lets his chin rest comfortably on your head. “You look very pretty.”
“Mmm?” You ask with a light giggle, leaning backwards. “Danke, Mickie. What time do you need to be on the paddock?”
“In two hours. Minimum,” he says, his big hand resting on your waist. He lets it slide downward, until he’s at the top of your thigh, where the dress sits. He pinches the hem, traces it until he’s touching the back of your dress. “Don’t worry. No rush.”
“No rush…” You repeat, nodding, letting him feel you up, encouraging it.
You shudder, feeling his hand venture underneath your dress, in the process raking it up. Everything happens in the mirror, like you’re watching it in real-time—Mick’s teasing, his slight smile, the way his eyes have totally darkened.
Already growing wet, you reach your hand behind you and it wraps around Mick’s bicep for leverage. It’s solid, defined under your grip, and it makes you even more aroused.
His hand rakes your dress up to your waist, so he gets a clear view of your panties. You meet his gaze, lidded and impossibly aroused, in the mirror. “This the pair I bought you?”
You bite a smile back and nod. You remember the day he gifted this particular set to you; it’d come to your apartment in a pink box. You’d written him a thank you text and a This is so unnecessarily pricey Mickie, to which he’d replied with Nonsense, send me a picture. “I like it,” you say hoarsely.
“Ah, believe me, so do I,” he groans, his head coming down to press against your neck. “More than like. I love how good you look. All for me, yeah? You’re my pretty girl.”
You shiver at the show of possession, and your grip tightens as you nod. You’ve grown quiet, an air of anticipation surrounding you both. “You like that,” he says, and it’s more of a statement than a question. “You like being my pretty girl, huh? All dolled up and so, so good for me.”
“For you,” you confirm. “Yes.”
“Can you trust me?” He asks. And then, to push you further, “Will you be good for me?” His fingers travel to your front, press against the seat of your thong. His touch is strong and persistent, and he stuffs the fabric a bit into your cunt, just to watch you squirm; just to feel how wet you are. Not to make you wait, no. Not to edge you either. Because, he reminds himself before the strands of his sanity leave, because he’s a sweet guy.
“Always,” you say, shuddering. Already you’re showing signs of wanting to cum.
“Come on, let’s go to the bed, baby.” You nod and follow silently, letting him lift you up and lay you down. You giggle, watching him stare down at you before reaching out for him, craving a kiss.
Like always, Mick gives you what you want, dipping down to press your mouths together.
It turns hot and messy quick, your arms coming up to wrap around his broad shoulders, trying to pull him closer, feel him against you, his hands all over you. He grunts, stumbling a little, and parts from you, much to your chagrin.
You sit up, shifting yourself onto your knees so you’re more-or-less level—except he’s standing up and you’re on the edge of the bed. Your hair covers your eyes a little when you lean closer, pouting.
“Come on, fuck me, Mick.”
“Yeah?” He asks. When he’s horny, and when you’re coaxing him like this, like a vixen, like something he just can’t deny, his words get sharper, actions harsher. You’d look at your bruises in the mirror—angry thumb prints, hickeys where your tops and dresses won’t give it away (he’s a gentleman in that regard), bruised knees from bad race nights when he needs to fuck your throat raw and rid himself of frustrations—and smile. “You want me to stretch this little pussy out?”
He pushes you backwards again, and you flip yourself over, wiggling your ass at him. “Please?”
Christ, it’s like you know his pressing secret, like you want him to let it out, and stuff you full, and make you dumb.
He blinks. He’ll be sweet about this. As sweet as he can get, anyway. He sheds his shirt and gets behind you, holds you still when he tugs your thong to the side. His palms are big and rough against your skin, a bruising grip left on your hips, but still you can feel how gentle he is with you underneath it all.
You hear him pull his cock out, the elastic of his sweats stretching. He slides his cock in between your cheeks, and even through there you can feel how heavy, how big it is against you. You whimper at the feeling of it. “Come on, Mick,” you try again, voice airy from impatience. “I’ll take it.”
He lets his cock glide messily over your pussy, lubing himself up from the slick gushing out of you. You get wet so easily, he thinks. One touch, one word, and you’re like putty around him, needy and clingy and oh so aroused. You’re so wet, he mumbles, stupefied. You clench around nothing, grow even wetter.
He pushes inside then, impatient as you are.
A series of fucks erupt from his mouth, finally sinking into your entrance. It’s just the tip, but still you’re tight around him, your legs shuffling to accommodate the stretch. “I’ve got you,” he says. His vision’s cloudy. He keeps thinking—if you’re this tight now, this good, this pliant, what more if you let him fuck you there?
You’re dizzy with pleasure—every fuck with Mick is as dizzying as the last. You urge him to stuff you further, your whimpers lost in your head, but you can hear them faintly. Please, Mick. Yes, deeper, fuck, more. And, as if to encourage you, he goes, yeah? Like it like this, baby?
He knows you do. He’s sweet that way, always giving and giving. But you know something’s different—you feel it, even as you gasp from the feeling of his dick fucking you open. He wants something different. Something more.
You’re so tight, so sensitive, throbbing hotly around his dick. He fucks you hard and dirty, keeping a hand on your back, making sure you’re always in an arch, perfect and poised just for him. Your eyes flutter. Mick, you say, but it’s lost in your own moans. I’m so close—I might—fuck—
He grunts, feels you tighten around him. He fucks you harder, splits you open. You let him. “Go on,” he says, and the authority of his voice brings you both back to a state of semi-lucidity. “Go, make a mess of yourself on my dick.”
He utters the instructions with an edge to his voice. It’s husky and a bit lazy, but still you follow, letting the coil in your stomach unknot itself. Your jaw hangs open, eyes rolling backwards, letting your moans leave you noisily and breathily. More, Mickie. I want all of it. I want more. You’re so wet, you’re practically squirting slick all over him.
You’re cumming hard and slow, dragging out your orgasm by fucking back against him. Each thrust is punctuated with a squelch of your cunt around him. You dig your nails into the cotton duvet, feeling slick run down your thighs. His words spur you on, and his pace doesn’t let up, instead going harder, deeper. You cum so fast for me, princess. Gonna go again?
His shaft is almost dripping with how much you’ve released on it, a wet noise sounding every time he moves. Come on, he coaxes gently. Give me another. You’ll give me another, hmm?
Yes, Mickie, you moan. It’s loud and unashamed. Yes, fuck.
Still sensitive, clenching and squeezing, you let the stimulation take you over, drown you until you’re barely breathing, let alone speaking coherently. Already the coil twists again, and you anticipate the pending orgasm, the high, the release. You let Mick fuck it out of you. You let him give.
You cum again, building up and up and then crashing messily around him, whimpers leaving your mouth and shudders racking your body.
It hurts, almost, with how intense it is; it comes in the midst of heavy, rough thrusts pressing against the deepest parts of you. You’re almost wailing with how good it hurts, your arms giving and letting you collapse on the sheets. You convluse weakly, feeling him pull out, a gasp leaving your mouth.
In response, Mick presses a reassuring hand to the small of your back. You breathe deep, tension leaving your body, walls still fluttering. You’re so good for me, princess. You take whatever I give you. My good girl. It comes in waves, the praise.
He wrangles you atop him, so you’re semi-straddling him. Somehow, lying on his hard, sweaty chest, with your legs on either side of him, both of you barely clothed—you still in the set, Mick in his boxers only—feels so much more comfortable than the bed. “How are you, baby?”
You nod.
“So good. You take me so well every time.”
“You didn’t cum, Mickie,” you pout into his chest. You grind lazily against him, smiling when you feel his dick swell against your still-dripping cunt. He grunts. You’re insatiable, he says. Absolutely crazy.
“I want it,” you say quietly, into his ear, hot. “Give it to me again. Again.”
It’s like time slows, when your lips bite into his earlobe, your fingers lithe and dextrous between your bodies, tracing over the solid indents of his abs. His own arm sneaks over your waist, wraps around it, lets it rest over the sticky skin, and thinks. Maybe this is when he can solve his problem, let the secret spill out of him.
He grits his teeth, brought back to reality when your grip moves south to palm at his dick. “Princess,” he says, breathing unsteady. “You trust me, right?”
The air shifts. You stare down at him with big eyes, glassy from your previous stimulation. And you nod. “Yeah, of course.”
“Okay.” He says. “Good.” He brings his other hand up to his mouth, covering two fingers with spit, and then, like a dam has broken: “M’gonna play with your ass, princess.”
Your eyes widen, but he starts nodding, smiling that sweet smile of his. So this is what he wanted. You inhale shakily, your hand leaving his dick to find purchase on his abdomen again. He heaves the both of you into a sitting position, so you can both breathe easier, but also so his access to your ass is easier, better.
He covers his digits with spit again. “It’ll feel good.” He reaches behind you and your hands are iron on his shoulders, your body rigid with anticipation, but also excitement.
He spreads you open, sinks his hands into the flesh there. “Trust me. Be a good girl.” He smears spit over the rim of your ass, thinks fuck, finally. “Relax for me.”
Ah, you whimper. Ah. He feels you take his cock in your grip, jerking it twice, slurring a whimper into his ear: Fuck me, please. And because he knows you need a distraction from the stretch, he gives you the familiar kind, his dick tight and hard in your cunt.
He thrusts upward to hit your sweet spot so you’re distracted when he’s rubbing tight circles, coaxing relaxation out of your ass. He feels your tension roll away. He’s got you like putty again. You’re caught up in the feeling, of bouncing on him; his hand momentarily leaves your ass to unclasp your bra and palm over your tits like a man starved.
Absently he thinks, is this what a nice guy does? Fucks his girlfriend’s pussy raw so he can claim her ass next? He squeezes his eyes shut, lets the thoughts filter out.
A strangled moan leaves you when he breaches your little hole. Just a bit more, he thinks, letting his finger back out, rubbing again, dipping lower to collect slick from your gushing cunt. He can tell you’re going to like this. “Okay?” You nod desperately, bouncing faster. Your slick is everywhere.
One hand leaves your tits to rub at your clit; the other stays rubbing circles over your rim, occasionally breaching. You nod. More, Mickie. Needy again. His fingers are wet and insistent against your clit and your ass, and the sensations flood you, knocking you into a state of euphoria. He stretches your ass open around one of his fingers, rubbing faster as he goes, feeling you get wetter.
“Mmmmf m’god,” you murmur, dazed. “Mick, I—I want more, fuck.” You cant yourself backwards to catch him.
He thrusts it, experimentally, collects more slick to make the glide easier. I know, he coos. I know, princess. Why don’t you give me one more? And you nod, because it’s easy, like this—when his dick is hard and deep in you. You bounce, each moan louder than the last, until finally your thighs are trembling and you’re releasing everywhere.
It’s a lot—a lot of slick, a lot of pleasure. You can’t tear yourself away from his cock, or his hand insistently pressing into you from behind. You whimper, sensitive, eyes vacant with overstimulated pleasure. He presses an open-mouthed kiss to your lips, and you moan into it.
“Just fill me up,” you beg. “I can take it.” He uses your release to shove another finger in, relaxing you further, drawing moans out of you that interrupt your flow of thought. It feels so new. It feels so good.
“Patience, princess,” he says. “I’m being nice this way.” He wants to split you open now, to be rough with it, to hear you whimper, to stuff you full of his cock and then his cum. But he’s patient. He’s sweet. He can wait.
He pulls out, rubbing the tip of his dick along the wetness of slick there. Your fingers dig into his broad shoulders, anticipating the breach. It comes, a dull burn that’s muted and slow, slow, slow. Mick grunts. “Can—” he tries, but the feeling is getting to him, the innate desire to fuck you stupid, to take advantage of how tight you feel. “Can you relax for me a little? Loosen up for me, princess.”
Okay, you murmur. I will. And you do, nodding as you allow yourself to relax. You can’t fathom the stretch. Mick’s already big—big shoulders, big arms, and feeling him so deep in you is addicting to a fault.
He slips in further, eliciting a moan from both of you. Expletives leave his mouth in rapid German, and he tries to wedge a sorry in there for the language—but he can’t, just keeps grunting as he wrestles himself deeper inside you.
Relax, he grits. Almost there, so good, baby. You lean into him, nodding, letting him coax you through it, through the stretch, the pleasure. He wishes he could see how well you take him, but he knows that after this, it’s going to happen a lot. He’ll get his chance then, to bend you over, or to flatten your legs against your chest, make you take it better.
Give it to me, Mickie, you whimper. Your hole’s so tight around him, pussy wet and dripping everywhere; he doubts he’ll last long with how you squeeze him. Your tiny hole, so little just earlier, is stretching so well just to take him.
He grunts. He’s so deep in you. He’s positive you can feel him in your stomach. When he finally bottoms out, after a few moments of prolonged silence (save for the intermittent moans), you both exhale. “You’re,” you say, breathless. “You’re so deep inside me.”
“Yeah?” He asks.
“Love this dick,” you hum mindlessly, smiling, starting to grind on it. And fuck, why’d he ever keep this secret for so long?
Once you’ve started moving, he takes it as a greenlight to go faster, progressively speeding up his thrusts until they’re sloppy, loud with the noise of your slick and his precum. His hands are big on your waist, controlling how you move and how you stay still. “Fuck, baby,” he says, desperate. “You’re so perfect.”
For you, Mickie, you moan.
He doesn’t realize how brash his actions are until he has to readjust his grip and sees indents of his thumbs on your hip, ones that will no doubt leave dark bruises. But he ignores them, and ignores the throb of arousal that ignites through him seeing you so wrecked and debauched like this, and thrusts harder. “Shit,” he grits. “Shit, shit, shit.”
You encourage him, bouncing back to meet his thrusts, embracing the burn of it. You’re certain you’ve cum twice already with how spent you feel, but the pleasure comes in waves every time he thrusts, sending you into a new kind of dizzy. You can feel just how split open you are, because your boyfriend is thick, and you can sense how wide open you are just from how well his dick fits. He sizzles into a space of just talking, talking, talking, to somehow redirect the stimulation—it falls into praise, questions, mumbled pet names.
Gonna fuck your little ass so full, he grunts. Full of my cock, my cum.
You cry out. Yes, you respond. Mickie—I want it.
I know you want it, he says. He mumbles something nondescript in German, voice heavy and rough. Then: Wanna take this dick, hmm?
He pulls out to the tip, then sinks back inside fast. It’s like whiplash, like the stretch has been played back at twice the speed. You moan loud, open-mouthed and desperate, nodding. Your mind is cloudy, cock-drunk, the way you always get when Mick’s been fucking you this long.
Gonna, he says, guttural. Gonna fuck this little hole. Stretch it out.
Then he’s fucking you fast and dirty, wetter and wetter, and you’re cumming again, watching yourself gush slick all over his lower abdomen and his dick, making the glide faster, easier.
You whimper all through it, prolonging your own release so you never have to let go of this euphoria. You hear him like he’s six feet below you—good girl, good girl, good fucking girl, yeah. Give me another.
Another—it seems impossible. But still you say, “Yeah, I’ll give you another,” your voice sticky with thirst. He fucks another one out of you, his pace rapid fast, dick pressing perfectly into your ass. It’s messy, your cum is everywhere, but you wedge another gush of slick out, and that’s what does it.
This time it’s you asking: cum in me, Mick. Make me full, please.
Mick looks down, watches you take him, your release everywhere, and grits his teeth. He presses his forehead to your bare shoulder, grunting, then filling you up. You moan at the feeling, already anticipating how good it’ll feel when he pulls out, lets it gush out of you in spurts.
You both breathe heavily. Then: “So, anal, huh?”
And then you’re laughing, albeit tiredly, Mick lifting you up to run you both a bath where you make him cum one more time.
Later that night, when you’re asleep (a day of racing and anal sex is not for the weak, you’d said before skipping on Haas-sponsored dinner), he retreats to Lando’s room to play poker.
“Where’s your girl?” The Brit asks, a cheeky smile on his face. “She passed out?”
“Woah, locker room talk much,” Alex says defensively from the couch. “Keep it down, you nymphos.”
“Just trying to gauge if Mick here tired his girlfriend out.”
Mick reviews his cards and offers a smile. “I would never.”
“Yeah, Mick’s vanilla,” George jokes. “Lando, stop bringing your porn addiction into our poker games.”
“Vanilla?!” Alex says, interest reignited.
“Have you seen the guy?” Lando points blank at Mick, who stares back with an amused smile. “The press calls him F1’s golden boy. The cutest little puppy on the paddock. He just isn’t into tiring sex.”
“Let alone”—George stifles a laugh—“what you’re into, Lando.”
Mick hums, shrugging. “What can I say? I’m a sweet guy.”
#f1#mick schumacher#mick schumacher smut#mick schumacher imagines#mick schumacher fluff#mick schumacher x reader#f1 x reader#mick schumacher drabble#mick schumacher blurb
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Heyyyy i just wanna say that i love all your works and can i request an azkaban escape sirius where he is sexually frustrated and take it out on reader who found him in his amingus for and took care of him, reader is of age though and friend of harry so when like they met again because harry invited reader over sirius was like shook does rhis make sense? Lol
i just wanna say, thank you so much for requesting this, as soon as i saw it i knew i had to write it, i've been wanting to write smut for so long but i had no theme for it and this just blew my mind.
sweet scape.
pairing: sirius black x fem!reader.
! tw. +18, mdni. degradation, strangers sex, oral (male and female receiving), creampie, cumplay, semi-public sex, stairs sex, unprotected sex, pregnancy kink, breeding kink (?), mentions of stepcest, chocking, aftercare, use of the words 'whore' and 'slut', let me know if I miss anything.
Sirius looked around in the dessert place. The night was cold and the air was moving softly the winter leaves left on the trees. His dog form was a big help for the cold weather of the end of the year.
He saw the few lights still on from the building near the university. So many years after he was captured and the fresh air hitting his fur felt rejuvenating, he thought of James Potter, and then he thought of the only legacy he had left; Harry.
If everything was right, he must be at college. With a Quidditch scholarship he hoped, putting the Potter’s last name to the top.
His ear caught the shy sound of steps. Softly walking through the pavement, he knew it was late for students to be walking around, his deep stare looking directly at the walk. When his eyes met yours, Sirius eyes sparkled, there hasn’t been a prettiest girl his eyes have meet. Sure, he once had the pleasure to knew Lily Evans, Marlene Mckinnon, Mary Macdonnald and even Alice Longbotton. Plenty of pretty girls who shared house with him. But yet, none of them could even compare to you.
Your shiny happy eyes, the messy hair covering the sides of your hair and the cute gaze you gave him. Your mouth opened when you saw him, a majestic black dog, soft and shiny fur, big enough to be considered a wolf. You kneeled in front of him and in his man-mind he could only think on a view from the top, you kneeled with two legs instead of one and his cock stuffed in your mouth, muttering the words you were saying to him.
“Who’s the prettiest dog in the world?” You said, and he barked in response “You. You are, the prettiest dog I’ve ever seen. Oh my God, your fur is the softest I’ve ever felt” Your cheek was now against him. “Are you lost, good boy? Where is your home?”
Sirius tried a sad cried and shook his head, you opened your mouth and pouted, the prettiest pout he has seen. You look around the empty street and murmur to him “You will follow me, but you have to be very quiet if you want to stay at my home”.
You giggle as if a mischief was about to be done, which he knew could be very possible by the way you were trying to hide him. You took him in your arms, with no advice before it, it took him by surprise, especially because he was big and heavy to carry but it didn’t seem to mind much to you.
The way home was difficult, and you were exhausted, he tried to explain it was fine for him to walk but you refused to hear anything. When you finally arrived, you let yourself sit at your door, Sirius stood there, looking at you. For someone who brought him upstairs in a very secretive way, you were enjoying the hall a little too much. You took a deep breath and then open the door, letting him inside your home first.
“Well, this is my dorm, my furry friend. My roommate should be here by tomorrow night. He’s very handsome and friendly, you would love him. He has the prettiest green eyes I’ve seen” Sirius couldn’t help but get a bit jealous of your description, he was an “old” man, but in no way, he would disrespect his looks, he knew he still had it in him “I was so in love with him since Hogwarts. My first crush ever. Then I discovered he was gay, which was very surprising but good for him”
You left Sirius sleep at the end of your bed, his body curled on top of your sheets. He small opening of your window let enough air to refresh the bathroom, but not enough to have you both freezing. If Sirius was a better man, he would feel guilty, for thinking of you like that. For not getting your naked body out of his mind, the way you pass your hands though your skin while applying cream, and he couldn’t miss when you skipped underwear, so now, you were sleeping with him, in just pajamas short.
He was careful to get out of the mattress, you left the door of the bathroom slightly open and he entered, few seconds later he was back a man. He smiled at his reflection in the mirror, maybe he needed a shower, and to shave, but he would never deny he looked good, maybe too good for someone who just scaped jail. He brushed his teeth with the first brush he found, not stopping to think if it was yours. Finally, he paid attention to his erection.
The pink tip touching his abdomen and he thought in how painful it was, he knew he was full, and he had all this sexual appetite he hasn’t been able to use since he was trapped, he needed nothing more but to take you right there, he felt guilty and suddenly bad, because he knew he wouldn’t care if you complained, he just needed you.
Sirius face was now shaved and clean, and he thanked that when you abruptly opened the door, you yell for a few seconds before he shut you with his hand, which you were quick to bite.
“What– What the fuck how the fuck did you got in here?! Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You were panicking, he knew that, and even if he wasn’t going to do anything but give you the roughest fuck of your life, he understood your fear. “I’m calling the fucking police I swear I– “
“Sh, sh, princess be quiet, will you?” You shook your head, determinate on what you were going to do but too scared to even move. “Oh, my God, what did you do to my dog?”
Sirius smirked “I killed him” And when you were about to yell more, he regrated it, putting his hand again in your mouth “It’s a joke, just joking, baby. God, you’re really loud” Sirius signed and looked everywhere; “The dog it’s my Animagus form. I really hope I can trust you because I don’t think there’s another wizard alive who knows about this”
You nod slowly, being brave to believe him. After the shock passed, you finally realized he was completely naked, your eyes were now on his hard and big cock; “Why are you naked?”
“The clothes don’t stay in my dog form, princess. I don’t have any”
You nod, it made incredible sense now, but you knew after this night, it would be hard for you to ever not believe in someone. Maybe it was his enchanting eyes of the seductive tone of his voice. Maybe it was the resemblance on his shiny and soft hair and the fur of the dog. Or it was just that he was hot, and naked in your bathroom, and you just have been a long time without having any.
Sirius noticed your look in his cock and it only made him harder. He was so needy right now, all those years without even a blowjob. Because he would settle for anything just if that meant having his cock on something warm, something else than his cold fist, which even he was restricted of. He had no problem in accepting a man if that meant he’ll have his cock sucked.
“Do it” he says, haughty. With a cocky grin decorating his face. He laughs at your confused expression “I know what you’re thinking on, pup. Go on, you can suck it. I won’t be gentle, but I don’t think it’ll be a problem for a slut like you”
You know you should be offended, a stranger, someone who you kindly offer a home, the warmness of a bed instead of the concrete of a bridge was degrading you like that. But you were in fact a whore, and the moment you looked him at the eyes was so fast because you couldn’t possibly stay away from his cock, his delicious, big, pink cock. His tip covered in white and turning almost red for how hard it was. So, you played like you were told and kneeled in front of him; “Good girl”.
He said, his palm on your head and you groaned. Sirius instructed you to open your mouth and you were hesitant for a few seconds, but not enough for him to notice, and even if he would he wouldn’t care. You felt dirty, the wet patch on your shorts grew bigger with every filthy comment from his mouth, and you knew you should be scared, a total stranger was insulting you, degrading you in your own bathroom and you were enjoying it. And who did he think he was, if you weren’t too hypnotized by his pretty cock you would be yelling at him; total pretty privilege.
You take his cock in your hands and pump it for a few seconds, your tongue is now out of your mouth and warming his dick. Your big eyes looking directly at him and he could swear he would cum just by that look.
Your hand is pressed on his thigh and the other one around his cock, your lips are now kissing the tip and you seem to be enjoying it too much. You take it on your mouth and out of it, licking his cock when it’s not inside, maybe it was the amount of time Sirius hasn’t received a blowjob or maybe you were just too fucking good at it. He has never see someone enjoy having someone’s cock in their mouth as much as you. By the time he’s about to cum, both of your hands are in his thighs, helping you to put his cock deeper in your mouth.
“Such a good fucking, girl. Fuck, princess, you’re awesome. Best bloody mouth I’ve ever have” He moans at your smile, wide eyes looking at him and every blink he feels like exploding, your legs are a bit open and Sirius knows your hand is now touching your pussy, and you manage to keep the balance really good.
Sirius finally loses it when you start to lick his balls, pumping his cock with a firm hand, going fast and needy. He didn’t know for sure if you were getting off from sucking his cock but he chooses to think you were, and goddam it was enough to send him on edge.
The fact of you just creaming in your shorts, without him touching you has fucking hot. Of course, he knew your hand was doing wonders under there, but when you touched his thigh while holding his cock and kept grinding your hips, he knew he was right.
“You’re such a needy slut, aren’t you? Getting off by just sucking my big fat cock, are you creaming your pants just by this, baby?”
He knew you wouldn’t answer, you were too invested on sucking him off for distract yourself just to answer a silly question. Sirius decided to help you, taking the back of your head in his hand and pushing your face to his pelvis, letting his cock go completely inside of you, you gagged at it but kept it inside.
Your eyes were glossy but it didn’t stop Sirius from pushing you to your limits, your face was messily covered in spit and now he was just face fucking you, pounding into your mouth and taking your head with no caution or worry it may hurt you or choke you, the thought alone seemed to turn him even more. He stopped for a second and took your face, hearing you whine for the lack of his cock even if your hands were still masturbating him. He kissed your lip, tasting your saliva and his dick in it.
He knew it was time to cum, he was holding it for so long just to see your beautiful face fucking enjoying him. But he knew it had to be done once you started to move your hand faster and opened your mouth.
“Fuck! Fuck, baby… I’m, I’m about to cum, I’m gonna cum in your pretty face, is that alright? You’re gonna be covered in my cum, baby, fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” He started to moan once the first blast of cum was out. You were rubbing your face on his cock, your face completely covered by cum wasn’t enough for him, he needed more. His dick needed more.
“You are such a naughty girl, aren’t you?”
“Yes, daddy”
Your eyes were lost in lust, a single coherent thought couldn’t be formed on your mind, you were just there to please your daddy now.
“Such a pretty cum doll. You were just made for my pleasure and my pleasure only, right, princess?” You nod “Remember this face, pretty bunny, cause no one, ever, would make you feel like this. And when they ask you who fucking blew your mind with sex, I want you to tell them it was Sirius fucking Black”
You nod obediently. Completely unaware that out there, in the real world, just outside those walls of your department, thousands of pamphlets of one of the most dangerous men scaping Azkaban were just arriving to every corner, adverting everyone of how dangerous this man was and what he was capable of. But again; people who could fuck like this shouldn’t be prisoned in a cell; it wasn’t fair to anyone to miss this.
Sirius took you to your bed, taking your body as if you were a rag doll, he put you in your fours and with no warning he went inside of you. He didn’t need to warn you anyway, you were way too wet. He slipped easily in; his hands took your face and your hands were trying to hold your body so all the weight wouldn’t be in his hands.
He was going fast and rough, like a needy man. Kissing and licking your back like he hasn’t feel the warmness of human contact in years – which was true but you didn’t know that –. Sirius moved carefree, completely nonchalantly at the fact that that he could hurt you.
“Fuck, princess, you’re so fucking small for my cock. I’m so big for you, aren’t I, baby?” You nod your head against the pillow and bite it when Sirius hand flew to your clit; “What about that, princess, you like that?” You nod eagerly and he smirks “I bet you like it; I can feel you squeezing my cock. God, you’re such a fucking whore, aren’t you?”
“Just yours, daddy. Jus’ your whore”
“That’s right, baby. Just daddy’s whore. I would be mad if it wasn’t like this. Look at you, being completely wrecked by a total stranger, you were so needy, weren’t you? A decent girl would never let this happen, would just call the police right away but you saw my cock and realized how much of a starved slut you were”
Sirius put your face against the pillow when you were trying to get up and look at him, his hand smacked your ass and started to go faster; “I’m so glad I found you and no any sweet innocent girl, ugh, God, princess you feel so good. I can help but cum, you want me to cum inside of you? You want my cum inside of you, baby? Dripping of your pussy?”
“Yes, yes, please, daddy. I want it inside of me, please, please”
“Such a needy slut. Fucking pretty whore, baby. Fuck! You’re fucking perfect”
By that time, you were already feeling your second orgasm building. The first one, so quick and fleeting as it came, Sirius didn’t seem to mind you already cummed once, your tummy aching and when you put your hands on it you could only feel Sirius big cock hitting the insides. You were aware of how wet you were, the sound your pussy made with every thrust was like music for yours and Sirius ears. You shifted uncomfortable at Sirius slow pace, realizing now how big he just was. With him going faster it was easier to forget his size and just get lost in the pleasure, but now you were capable of think on how much your pussy was stretching around him. It wasn’t for a long time, because as soon as Sirius cached a relaxing breath out of your mouth he went faster. You could think on how anything has ever felt like this, this was the kind of pleasure erotic books describe but you never thought it could be possible.
Sirius takes both of your arms and sits you in his cock, his fore-arm around your neck and taking your head in his big hand. Now you’re just enjoying his thrust, Sirius fucking you would be an unforgettable experience, and it was almost a shame, because you know it doesn’t matter with who you were in the future, you would be thinking about how any sexual experience would ever feel like this again.
Sirius finishes in your pussy, rather later than soon, he thrusts in a few more times for his cum to keep inside you, when he finally lets you go, he fingers your pussy, watching all his cum get out of you and he thinks that’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen.
And as soon as you think he couldn’t do something better than this, he reaches your pussy and you moan louder than you thought possible. Your sensitive clit being licked by his tongue, and you knew you hadn’t in you to last much, you already came two times, and for the record of ex-lovers you had, that was already a lot.
But Sirius ate pussy so calm and good, his tongue concentrated in your clit while his thumb explored between your folds, you knew you came when you felt it, but you also knew when he giggled. Making fun of you for lasting so little; “Already, princess? But I was just starting my meal? That’s not fair” He putted and kept going, putting two of his fingers inside of you and moving them as if you weren’t already shaking and crying.
Your hands reached his head and tried to pull him away, but he was stronger, and far less sensitive than you, sure hard as a rock, but with an iron determination of making you cum for the fourth time.
Sirius moved his fingers in and out, his thumb caressing your clit fast while he added a third finger inside. “I know this won’t fill you as much as my cock, baby but you have to settle for it like a good girl”
His fingers weren’t as thick as his cock, that was for sure, but hell he knew how to use them, you could feel every movement, you could feel them reaching your insides and your back started to arche at the pleasure.
When you finally came in Sirius hands you were sleepy, your eyes closing thanks to how tired you felt, you murmured a quick “Goodnight” once Sirius finished a third time in your belly.
“No, no, baby. Gotta clean you up, I wouldn’t let you sleep like this. I’m not a monster. And you were such a good pretty slut, you deserve it. You deserve daddy’s care and love, don’t you, princess?”
You nod, subby. Your lips partly open, waiting for him to put his fingers, but that doesn’t happen.
Three months happened after that and Sirius Black was nowhere to be found. You knew it was for the better, you would never turn him to the authorities and you preferred him to be lost than fucking you and making you an accomplice. Or maybe you would rather be over the law, who would it help anyways. You knew you had it in you to keep Sirius Black too pussy drunk that he wouldn’t even think of go outside to kill, if you think about it, you were making the Wizarding World a favor, now who knew where was he, doing God knows what.
You met your best friend Harry at Grimmauld Place, very odd of him to ask you to be there when you saw him literally every day at your shared department. You were welcomed by him and Hermione Granger, they greet you and behind them the Weasley twins, you smiled, thinking it was maybe one of the “friendly reunions” Harry like to through every now and then. That was until you saw him, Sirius fucking Black, standing on the door, his body slightly leaned to the left and the devil grin he wore perfectly.
Fuck you were creaming.
“Y/N” Harry started “This is my God-Father; Sirius Black” You stood there, staring at him. You should be angry, he fucked you for three days in a row and then disappeared for three months – almost four –, but you could only think about his big fucking cock. You quickly glanced at his crotch and tried to see it, you couldn’t be blame, it was your favorite thing in the world and you were being deprived of it. “Now, I know what you are thinking” No, you can’t possible know, Potter; “But, Harry, he’s a criminal” He said with an acute voice, trying to mimic yours “But I swear he’s not, there’s an explanation” An explanation that you couldn’t care less for.
Harry kept talking, about some things you didn’t care and how Sirius didn’t kill his fathers, blah, blah, blah, you needed him to fuck you. Right now, if he was about to say ‘Y/N, the only way I’m fucking you is on top of this table, with all the presents; your friends I may add, watching us’ you’ll probably say; ‘Hey, it’s fine for me. Anything for your cock, honestly”
“Harry…” Sirius said, the boy’s green eyes looked at him as fast as he spoke “I don’t think your friend Y/N is very fond of me”
“Wh-what? Foolishness, she loves you. If she doesn’t, I’ll make her” Sirius smirked and looked at you. “She’s just amused, it’s fresh news for her”
“Maybe if she sits by my side, we could talk more. Get to know each other”
“An excellent idea” He said, happily, getting up of his chair and taking your arms in his hands, moving you to the chair where he was; “Now, Y/N. Talk to him” He looked so cute ordering you that, his big bright green eyes were almost puppy like. He was like a child in Christmas. You knew he considered everyone in the table as part of his family, and you were like a sister for him, so you knew it meant a lot for him. But God you were horny.
“Hello, Y/N” That bastard said, as if you were thinking of anything but his pink big cock, and you were salivating! “Harry tells me you’re like a sister for him” You nod “You know, I always wanted a daughter. A step one” Fucking sick, kinky bastard. “I always thought of spoiling my girl”
Harry smiled, thinking of the comment as an innocent one, but Remus looked at him in surprise. The rest of the table completely unaware.
“He tells me you’re living with him, mhm? Sounds really good” You didn’t think he would care or resent a bit the fact that you did it, multiple times, in the same table Harry eats his meals. “I always wanted a roommate, sadly I never get to even college” He laughs, and you do with him, just so you can disguise the itching on between your tights.
You had to excuse yourself, tell everyone you weren’t feeling well, but when Sirius ordered you to get closer, his hand traveling inside your skirt, the sensation didn’t feel right. Far too good for being a friction.
“And, how’s Harry at school?” He said, and you thanked God everyone was minding his own business when he put two fingers inside you, he leaned to you, reaching your ear to whisper on it “Always so fucking wet for me, puppy. I don’t even have to wait to put my fingers inside you”
You bite your lips and nod, you looked around only to meet Harry’s excited face, he gave you thumbs up and you did too, at the same time Sirius curved his fingers inside of you and it took everything from you to hide that moan.
Good for you, everyone excused themselves to go to their respective homes. Harry offered you to spend the night there since he was going too. And you happily accepted, because you knew you couldn’t go another say without having Sirius cock inside, not now that you had his fingers after all that time and your mind couldn’t think of anything else but him fucking you ruthlessly in any surface of the house.
When you finally met Sirius again, he was going downstairs, completely naked, you were already salivating over his cock without even seeing it, now having it on fully display was a total turture, and you were so fucking needy that you couldn’t possibly wait for him to go down, you reach him there, taking his lips as you eagerly kissed him.
“I knew I neglected you, but I never would think you would be this needy, princess”
“So good, Siri”
“Yeah? My cock’s so good, isn’t it, princess? So fucking good you need it so much”
“I need it, please, daddy, please. I’ve been good”
He nods “You’ve been such a good slut, princess. Being all nice to Harry when all you could think about was my cock, guess you deserve it, huh?”
Sirius puts your leg up, reaching the stairs wall and he instructs you to hold on the fences really tight so you won’t get hurt. He started to fuck you right there, going in and out, caressing your titties while your hand was in your clit, so desperate to cum.
Now, it wasn’t like you haven’t cum all the time he wasn’t there. It just wasn’t the same. Sirius kept his movements, holding your waist tight as his movements were faster, he finally leaned you all over the fence, your body moving back and forth on his cock, your tits bouncing on his hand, but it’s not enough for him, he needs to be deeper inside you.
He takes you at the end of the stairs, all the way to the second floor, and he thanks he covered his mother picture downstairs because otherwise he would feel observed. He puts your leg all the way up the fence, your feet resting on it so you can have a hold while he thrusts into you, his hand playing with your boob, he’s not as talkative as he was months ago, maybe because Harry was near, and he demanded you to be quiet, but how could you when he felt so good.
He slapped you when you left a loud moan out, and that only turned you on more, making him smirk; “Wow, you really are a whore. A fucking slut, aren’t you baby? You’re my fucking pretty whore, such a pretty cum bag, get it, baby, get all my cum inside. No one in this world deserves it more than you, angel”
His hands press your breasts and one of your hands goes to your clit, feeling how you were so close to finish.
“Sir, daddy, daddy I’m gonna cum, please, please, daddy, I’m gonna cum”
You cry, and he allows you to let it go but that doesn’t stop him, he loves how your pussy is creaming his cock, and he doesn’t intend on letting you go. Even when he already finished inside, he takes advantage of your firm hold in the fence to move one of his hands to your clit, you moan, already sensitive by him thrusting into you.
When Sirius takes his cock out, you feel how you let him completely soaked. You knew you were a whore, a sex lover even, but you never knew you were capable of squirting.
“Wow, pup, that was, fuck, that was so sexy” He says, kneeling in front of you and squeezing your lower belly so you squirt again in his mouth. “Now that I know you can do it, I’m gonna make you do it, all over again. Fuck, pup, I don’t even care if you get tired, you’re gonna cum for my pleasure and my pleasure only”
He says and gets up, looking at his cum dripping from your thighs.
“By the amount of times I finished inside of you months ago I’m really surprised you’re not pregnant, all full and round with my babies. God, you would look so hot. Fucking big and heavy, your breasts would be so big, fuck.”
“I can stop taking the pill” you say without thinking.
“You would do that for me?”
“I’ll do anything for you Sirius, just never stop fucking me”
“Fuck, baby. Gotta’ be careful with what you wish”
“Just wan’ you, wanna be your cum slut, want all your cum inside me, not inside anyone else, just me, please, please, Siri. Make me your pretty little wife, the mom of your children, I– I just want to live with you fucking me always, please, please, please”
“Well, if you ask so nicely, pup. I don’t have other option rather than fuck you. Your wish is my command”
#sirius black x y/n#sirius black imagine#sirius black fanfic#sirius black x remus lupin#sirius black x reader#sirius black smut#the marauders x reader#the marauders imagine#the marauders fic#the marauders fanfiction#marauders fanfic#marauders x reader#the marauders x y/n#marauders x y/n#marauders smut
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＃GENSHIN IMPACT !! ♡ — ON THE DARK SIDE OF THE MOON (CHILDE X READER).
#. synopsis! — childe knows he doesn't deserve this, but he just can't let you go .
#. characters! — childe .
#. warnings! — angst .
#. word count! — 1k .
#. alt accounts! — @ddollipop (nsfw) @yyolkchi (reblog/spam) .
#. others! — navigation & masterlist .
#. a/n! — this is my "from the vault" era. most of the things i'll be posting for a while will probably have been started anywhere from a few months to over a year ago. i have a huge google doc just stocked with fics that i started and never finished, so i'm trying to wrap some of them up neatly enough to post them and at least let them see the light of day lol.
It’s always lonely at the top.
On nights like this, Childe realizes that now more than ever. Snezhnaya is his home, —but in a more abstract sense of the term. He knows the snow-covered lands and the bitter chill of frost like the backs of his scarred hands, and yet this nation feels less like the soft place he can fall upon each time he returns from somewhere else. It’s the center of his youth, the place that fills most of his heart, but things have certainly changed since he was little more than a young boy who loved making angels in the snow. The world moves faster now; days bleed into weeks in a matter of moments, and there are many times Childe wishes that the weather could freeze time like it does everything else around here.
Still, maybe it’s better that it doesn't. Even if it did somehow, he’s not sure how he’d spend that time anyway. A part of him is all too certain that he’d waste it away, losing sight of his goals within seconds.
He’s always been too driven by madness for his own good.
The viscous truth of it all is that Childe craves acceptance, but doesn’t really like to be loved. Even as you sleep next to him, his arm clutched in your warm, forgiving grip; he doesn’t know how to put such thoughts to the wayside. Selfishly, he wants you. Sometimes, it feels like he needs you. Realistically, though, Childe knows he shouldn’t have you. You’re not much of a fighter, and your only ties to the Fatui are through him, which he holds an insurmountable level of shame and regret for. If not for him, he’s certain your life would be a lot less complicated.
You’ve even said so yourself, albeit only jokingly. Those few little quips hold just enough water for Childe to drown himself in them, though. He wants to push you away as his lungs fill in and oxygen depletes, but you’re so goddamn intoxicating that he can’t bear the thought of parting ways. You snuggle closer to him as if seeking the heat of his body, —as if seeking the protection it offers from any ghoulish figures that could pop up in your otherwise sugar coated dreams.
Childe isn’t sure what he’d do without this, —without the ability to come staggering home to you. Truthfully, you’re more of a home to him now than Snezhnaya has ever been. He yearns for nights like this more than you’ll ever know, more than he’ll ever be able to articulate properly, because Celestia knows he’s never been very good with words.
Not when they’re genuine, anyway.
He can put on a show just fine, put that charismatic mask on and make strangers fall to their knees at his feet. But once they get a glimpse of the monster inside that lusts for violence and bloodshed on every battlefield, they run for the hills. And Childe isn't naive enough to wonder why. He knows, probably better than anyone else ever will, that he is hard to love, and even more difficult to be loved by.
When everything is going steady, he likes to send some ripples through the water just because he can. He pushes buttons he knows he should leave alone, —maybe because he can’t help himself, or maybe because deep down, he wants to push you away. You can’t just up and decide that you want to see him rot his way back into the earth beneath his feet if he flips all the right switches and makes it happen at will. There’s no disappointment to be had there if he’s the one who incites it; like flicking a match and watching your house go up in flames.
If he does it to himself, there’s no reason to be sad about it.
Self-sabotage has always been kind of his thing. Still, here you are with your soft tufts of breath fanning against him, trusting him not to let himself snap to the point of no return and burn everything down around you both (figuratively and literally.) And for the life of him, —Childe doesn’t get it. He really doesn’t. You’ve always wanted a simpler life, one you know he can’t give you. . . But here you are, and he doesn’t have the heart to push you away like he knows deep down that he should.
If he’s being honest with himself, and this is one of the rare times that he is, he knows he should be building his walls high enough to force you out if that’s what it takes. Everytime you lay with him like this, he knows he’s stealing that tranquil life you’ve always wanted away from you, and it eats him up inside. He’s not what’s best for anybody, nonetheless for you.
He knows, he knows, he knows. . . He really should just—
“Hey,” you say softly, and his resolve crumbles away like the walls he tries to build between himself and you. “Can’t sleep?”
Childe looks over at you and pauses for a few moments, admiring the way you love him, even when he doesn’t deserve it. Then he thinks to himself that he’s never truly deserved it, and the cycle begins again. He hums in acknowledgement, and you hold him closer, like you’re trying to mend all his broken pieces back together (even if you don’t know it.) It won’t help him sleep, but it feels nice to be cared for like this. To be loved, to be seen. . . To be stripped bare in the moonlight that spills in from your window is a blessing sent straight from Celestia, and it makes him wonder just what he’s ever done well enough to have ended up here in his lifetime.
“You’re thinking too much,” you say.
He almost laughs, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of your head.
“Yeah,” he agrees, “I know.”
#childe#childe angst#childe genshin#genshin impact#childe x reader angst#childe x reader#childe x you#tartaglia x reader#tartaglia x reader angst#genshin impact x reader angst#genshin x reader angst#genshin x reader#childe tartaglia x reader#genshin childe#childe tartaglia#childe x y/n#tartaglia x you#tartaglia x y/n
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Can you rank the hashiras and reasons why?
This ask took way longer than I thought it would, I believe I overthought the question and then it took me a while to really think over the hashira and choose. And putting it into words took longer than I expected.
@plutonianmoons I interpreted this question as who do I rank in terms of favorites and why, if you meant it in another way shoot me another ask and I’ll respond. I’m going to start with the list so that those who don’t want to know my reasons don’t have to go hunting for where their favorite hashira is.
Kyojuro Rengoku
Uzui Tengen
Mitsuri Kanroji
Muichiro
Shinobu
Sanemi
Iguro
Giyuu
Gyomei
Kyojuro Rengoku
I feel like this will come as a surprise to absolutely nobody lol. He’s my favorite character after all and probably my favorite of all time. I hopefully have been able to sprinkle my reasoning of why I love Kyojuro so much throughout my posts so I will try not to ramble too much. Though, not repeating myself is kinda impossible haha.
Kyojuro resonates with me so deeply, and even I don’t fully understand why. One reason I think is because he makes me feel….seen. His struggles and grief and pain, and how it came about, a lot of it I can relate to, it hits very close to home for me. And seeing what he goes through and how he dealt with it, its helped me to see and realize that my own experiences and feelings are valid, and its helped me process things I haven’t been able to, even with years of therapy. He isn’t just a ball of sunshine who hides his pain, that’s such a gloss over. He IS a flame, all his feelings make him burn, his anger, righteous and otherwise, his love of his family, his comrades, of his hobbies, the way he devotes his all into everything he does and how so many of his actions are driven by love and compassion and that that’s what drives him to be so duty-bound. He’s someone like many of us, has gone through grief and pain and so much and because of his situation didn’t get to have it addressed or dealt with, he just figured out how to live with it. I love how he isn’t Mr. Positive, if he is confronted by something negative, by someone’s hurt feelings he addresses it, he validates, and yet he’s not perfect in doing that either, because with some people he can’t address it even though he wants to. I love brave he is, standing up for others but also facing criticism and cynicism and hatred again and again and being so certain of his creed and who he is that he doesn’t let those things infest him, he burns them up immediately. I love how much he loves Ruka, how even though he lost her at such a young age he never resented her but kept her with him always. He thought of her, shared his memories of her, she touched every aspect of who he grew up to be and he never forgot that. I love that even though he is stubborn he isn’t unyielding where it matters. If he makes a snap judgment and realizes it he will change it, will he always? No probably not because just like everyone else that’s going to be different from situation to situation. I love how even though he was told he could never be a Hashira and that he should abandon it, that he didn’t. He worked and worked and worked and he accomplished it. I love how warm and welcoming he is to others, that even though he can sit there stiff as a board he does things that make you know he’s paying attention, the way he invites the Corp member from Mugen Train episode 1 to join him, the way he pats the seat indicating he wants Tanjiro to sit right next to him. The way he gives Senjuro his complete attention and focus when they are talking about emotionally difficult topics. I love how he is honest when he easily could lie to try to spare feelings and yet he is so careful and mindful during those times too. I love how freaking intelligent he is, and that it’s subtle. That it’s not just book intelligence but he’s just actually intelligent. The conversations he has, the way he breaks down what’s going on around him, the choices he makes when he acts. The questions he ponders and asks himself and tries to figure out the answer to. The fact that when Shinjuro told him he didn’t have what it takes to become a Hashira, the way that he thought about that question and pondered it and came to his answer---he could have just got upset and hurt and focused on those feelings, but he didn’t, he delved into it and found his answer. I love his expressions, and I know people joke that sometimes there’s not a thought going on behind his eyes but I disagree, I think he looks like that cause his brain is thinking of so much at once. I love how he has a bunch of shared traits with the other Hashira but in a way that’s uniquely him. I will cut myself off here because if I don’t I’m never gonna stop lol.
2. Uzui Tengen
One of the reasons I love Tengen is I was so surprised by him, I thought I was going to hate this man’s guts--especially after his introduction to the boys. But instead it was just character beat after character beat of why I would and do like him. You look at him and its like “oh he’s the wild one” but he actually isn’t. He had a lapse of judgment and was rushing when he kidnapped Aoi and wasn’t thinking straight but he also got talked out of taking her pretty easily. I don’t like that he slapped her butt, and I think its still a weird thing for him to do but its in there and I’m sure his wives and Shinobu got on him for that whole incident. But after that we see quickly that he’s one of the responsible ones, and like Kyojuro he really really cares about people and their safety, he sees and acknowledges the boys as boys and does his best to take care of them and watch over them while at the District. Of course, he doesn’t do it perfectly, but he does a pretty damn good job. I love that he actually verbally acknowledges to them that he made mistakes and he put them in danger and owns his poor behavior and decisions. I love that once Zenitsu gets taken he instructs Tanjiro and Inosuke to leave and gives them that important wisdom that surviving isn’t a loss and it isn’t failing. I love that he doesn’t try to shoo the boys off once they are in the fight, he adapts and lets them help him. And even though he lets them stay he consistently is making moves to protect them during the fight and trying to take as much weight off them as he can. He is aware of what the boys’ states are in the midst of the fight and tries to finish things quickly and change the battle to keep them safe. I also love his dynamic with them--he absolutely understands how teenage boys are and how they work and he lets them be boys in his presence without letting them do something terrible. Inosuke gets overwhelmed and starts trying to headbutt people and just rampage in his anxiety? No you don’t boar boy back over here with me. Zenitsu wanders off and starts getting enticed by the women? Boy don’t you even think about going in there I will carry you by the collar through the whole place. His dynamic with Zenitsu is so fun, because they bicker at each other and he teases him like a guy who is 10+ years older than their younger brother would. I love how Tengen truly loves his wives, and that he doesn’t love them all in the same way or show love in the same way to them all. He knows his wives and treats them as his individual partners. I love how calculating but also wild he is in his fighting. His fight with Gyutaro and Daki was such fun to watch.
3. Mitsuri Kanroji
I love how Mitsuri allows herself to feel all her feelings, how once she stops pretending to be who and what she isn’t, our Love Hashira wears herself completely on her sleeve. And she isn’t ashamed of it or prideful about it. In her fight against Zohakuten she starts out confidently attacking him, jumps right in there and saves Tanjiro and her character beats are so good, she’s freaked out about how big Zohakuten’s dragons are and yet immediately turns her attention to Tanjiro with a smile, confidence and warmth. She sets him down and tells him to take a break, praises him and tells him she’ll take care of it. When Zohakuten calls her a “shameless tramp” she shows such a genuine reaction of shock and upset and I can’t help but adore how honest she is in showing her feelings and being able to show multiple feelings at once. She isn’t arrogant when confronting Zohakuten that first time, but even then, she doesn’t stay dwelling on the fact that he insults her she is ready to go and move to attack once Zohakuten strikes at her. When the dragons start dodging her and moving faster she doesn’t hide her feelings of nervousness, she shows her panic but she doesn’t stop attacking or give up, she just freaking adapts and keeps going, seriously goes “can I take on this many at once?” AND THEN JUST DOES IT. She gets smacked point blank in the face with a sonic blast and instinctively defends her whole body by tensing it up. I love how her confidence isn’t iron-clad, insults, harsh words and reactions, they all hurt her and she doesn’t ignore them but tries to deal with them the best way she can, even if sometimes its the wrong way like she does when she becomes more reserved after finding out Shinobu’s reason for being a Slayer. I love that instead of being ugly or mean to the person who is ugly or mean to her, she honestly defends herself and feels her feelings without trying to hurt the other person. I love how she wants to have a husband but also wants to help people love themselves and once she becomes a slayer these two things no longer conflict for her. She loves people and trusts that one day she’ll find a good man in the Corp to marry. I love how genuine she is with her acceptance of people. She genuinely accepts Tanjiro and Nezuko and treats Nezuko like a younger sister, hugging her, singing with her, playing with her, and protecting her. The fact that she sheds tears of joy seeing not only that Nezuko is alive but also talking--there’s no doubt she loves these kids. Her love for people as individuals is so strong: even though Genya is mean to her she wanted to talk to him, when she saves the Village leader and he makes a flirty comment she teasingly chides him. And in both instances she could have gotten really angry but didn’t. Nor does she call Genya names or anything, and she talks about him kindly when he’s brought up later. I love how Mitsuri actually is willing to do the tough things, but isn’t shy about saying how she feels about it. I love how she never actually hated the things that made her different, she always cherished them, but it just took her a little while to reach her full acceptance. I love how much she has in common with Kyojuro and that in some instances you can see it and it doesn’t have to be brought up. Mitsuri reminds me a lot of Sailor Moon’s Usagi and I kind of love that.
4. Tokito Muichiro
Muichiro is part of my little brother baby trio. Comprised of Muichiro, Genya and Senjuro. I love how well this amnesic child does deadpan humor and yet in the same breath can be so RELENTLESSLY sassy. Like I’m sure Tengen thinks he is the sass master but Muichiro would DEVESTATE HIM. His sass is sharp and clever and our little Mist Hashira knows how to time his humor beats perfectly and in the optimal way to jab his opponent. The way that he’s passive-aggressive while he has amnesia, without meaning to be is also really funny. Karate-chopping Tanjiro, holding his nose to make him wake up, like Muichiro really is going for the fastest route here.
I also love how fierce he is, like yes Muichiro was taunting Gyokko but he was not messing around in his fighting and you could see it in how he moved. Plus the way that he came at Gyokko from within the mist and then minced him into sushi? So hardcore.
I adore how he isn’t bitter about having amnesia, like, he could very easily and rightfully be angry and upset and hold those feelings but he doesn’t. Instead, he focuses on trying to remember things but also not let it stress him out if he can’t. I love how truly kind and gentle he is, even when Yuichiro was being mean to him and aggressive, Muichiro didn’t return that. He loved and cared and respected every member of his family. He admired all of them.
I love how his motives to originally become a swordsman were so pure and kind-hearted and that he wanted to help people the way their parents taught them. I love how when he regained his memories he was able to revisit those memories and realize that his brother did love him, that he was worried and scared and just a 10-year old trying to take care of his only remaining family. I admire so much that he was able and willing to think about his past and realize that the way he thought about his brother was wrong and not the truth. His relationship with Tanjiro is so adorable, like hands down Tanjiro is his favorite person and the favoritism and kindness he shows Tanjiro after he gets his memories back is so cute it’s like that aggressive best friend who is nice only to their bestie and just a terror to everyone else.
5. Shinazugawa Sanemi
There are so many wonderful, devoted big brothers in Demon Slayer and Sanemi is one of the top for me. We can tell in Genya’s flashbacks that Sanemi was completely committed to his role as provider and caretaker for their family. He loved and respected his mother and he loved his siblings and Genya trying to support him and stand with him back then meant so much to him and you can tell. Even after what happened to their siblings and mother, that devotion stayed, Sanemi just had to go about it differently.
I think the way he acts towards people is understandable although not justified, like many other characters he was completely unaware of demons before his family got slaughtered and unlike Gyomei, Giyuu and Tanjiro his family got slaughtered by his own mother and he killed her not realizing it was her until too late, and then had to deal with the realization that he killed his mother as well as having the brother he fought tooth and nail to protect curse him and things just got worse from there. Yes, Sanemi isn’t the only one who has lost comrades but he is one of the few slayers who has to wonder if a demon showing up is because of him and not the other way around. He never hated Genya for the things he said when their mom died, he was never bitter towards him. He loved him and knew his little brother well enough to know how kind hearted and sensitive Genya was and that’s why he was so harsh because he was so scared of losing Genya too and of Genya going through the traumas he had. Scared enough that he was willing to maim him if it meant getting him out of the Corp. And more than willing to let Genya hate him forever. I mean seriously, think about the mental and emotional will power you’d have to conjure up to be able to look at your younger brother who is pleading to talk to you and make the decision to try and blind him and keep insisting you’re not family. I don’t agree it was the right thing to do but the fact that he could even bring himself to attempt that geez.
Not to mention hearing Genya had eaten demon flesh probably scared him because that kind of makes Genya a demon and if he goes out of control someone would have to kill him. I think his rage is understandable, I think his anger initially at Nezuko and Tanjiro is very understandable and it’s shown on his face when he looks down after Nezuko rejects his blood. This demon rejects human flesh, why couldn’t my mom? Why did I have to kill my mom, lose all my siblings and lose my remaining brother, lose my best friend, but this kid gets to keep his sister who is a demon? Would anyone else in his shoes respond differently? I really doubt it.
I love how he’s like the unexpected wild child of the Hashira---not completely unexpected I mean look at him--but the fact that he just pulls an Inosuke and just picks fights with people left and right and he really seems to enjoy his fights but he’s also not ignorant about it. He is aware of what’s going on and he is calculating and strategizing and he’s so -adaptive- like Sanemi will try literally anything in battle if he thinks there’s even a hint it might work. The fact that he knows how to be annoying and cocky to his opponent but isn’t arrogant in his fighting (exception being his fights with Giyuu I think) is a refreshing take on this type of character. Sanemi doesn’t think he can beat everybody, he doesn’t think he’s invincible but that’s okay with him because he still wants to try it regardless. And like Muichiro he knows how to push those buttons and he has such fun doing it and honestly, I have so much fun watching him antagonize his opponents.
6. Obanai Iguro
I love Iguro’s design. I love that he could have just hated people and cursed them because that’s kind of what you’d expect from someone who’s own family treated them the way the Iguro clan did to Obanai. His family sliced open his face, tried to sacrifice him to a demon and then cursed him for surviving when it backfired on them. He had no social interaction until he was friggin 11 with anyone outside of his messed up family. I appreciate how honest he is about his reasons for being a demon slayer. He isn’t doing this to be noble or because its the right thing. He wants to try to purge his family’s tainted blood from himself by killing demons for others, knowing he can never truly purge that blood but at least its -something-. I love how even though he was hurt all for the sake of a snake demon that he doesn’t hate Kabamaru (check spelling) and he treats that precious white snake so well and that Kabamaru isn’t just a decoration but his partner. I appreciate how even though he doesn’t know how to tell Mitsuri he loves her verbally---he’s constantly showing it. Writing letters back and forth with her, sitting with her and just letting her eat as much as she wants, giving her socks that match her eyes because he knew she was uncomfortable at first with her uniform. When she starts trying to explain how she got the Demon Slayer Mark and its all gibberish and he just face palms---not even upset just like “my poor wife she’s doing her best”. The way that he gets jealous of Tanjiro being buddy buddy with Mitsuri is so funny because its so stupid and yet he has Muichiiro’s petty streak, just listing off all the Corp members “crimes” when Tanjiro is like “did these people commit some sort of crime?” I love how he changed his mind about Tanjiro and he was -such- a good battle partner with Tanjiro when it was just the two of them for a bit. The fact that he got right between Tanjiro and Muzan’s Akira-like jaws knowing that would definitely kill him, he didn’t go to pin Muzan he went directly to save Tanjiro from getting swallowed.To me it seemed so clear that in this final battle Iguro accepted Tanjiro and supported him, they worked as a team and Loner Iguro is good at it I can’t wait to see him in the new anime content.
7. Kocho Shinobu
Shinobu is also kind of a typical anime girl but I still like her. Short angry girl is a pretty common trope but she does it well. I love that she is biting and vicious with a smile on her face, kind of like what you expect from the stereotypical mean rich girl, but you can tell that’s also not Shinobu because she will -actually- mess you up in a heartbeat. I love that she’s not a “mean girl”, she loves her friends and her butterfly girls and she cares a lot about people and she’s not ashamed of being a “healer”. I love that instead of writing herself off, “I’m small and therefore can’t fight the same as everyone else” she figured out a method that worked for her, and it is probably one of the worst ways a demon can die---it’s definitely the most painful. I love how one way she showed Kanae her love for her was choosing to always smile even though she’s never actually happy. That it’s not forced positivity, and Kanae wasn’t asking that of her. But it was “My sister loved my smile, so I will continue to smile for her.” I love how she is constantly stepping in to show support to the characters. Talking to Kyojuro before he left, confronting Mitsuri about her starving herself once she found out about it, encouraging and showing happiness for Kanao starting to speak up for herself and being a sort of mother figure for Inosuke where she cared for him but was also able to discipline him in a way that no one else really could. I do feel like her best interactions are when she’s with Zenitsu, Douma and Giyuu but it could just be that I find those moments with her to be the most fun and entertaining.
8. Tokito Giyuu
Giyuu’s is kinda funny because he’s typically the type of anime character who is my favorite in a series but compared to the previous 7, yeah he’s here. I do love that he’s a tried and true introvert, like he is a devoted Hashira but at the same time gives off the Shikamaru vibe of “Gosh I’d rather be at home”. I enjoy that even though he has a bond with Tanjiro that doesn’t like cure him of his introvertness, he still gets overwhelmed by Tanjiro sometimes and is just like “no, not today” and tries to split. I love that that’s not really attempted to get fixed, that’s just how Giyuu is and that’s okay. He still has moments of joy and sass and all the other feelings but there’s no “we need to heal Giyuu” thread in the story besides the side story of everyone trying to get him smile/laugh. I will always be saddened by the fact that he for the longest time didn’t feel like he was a Hashira and just wrote himself off but I also kind of like how the Hashira weren’t suddenly like, “That’s crazy, we love and accept you Giyuu!” But by the end I feel like he was mostly accepted, particularly by Sanemi which was nice since those two were almost like unspoken rivals it felt like. His scenes with Tanjiro and Shinobu are the best to me, because he obviously cares about Tanjiro a lot while he simultaneously just has no idea what to do with this kid unless he’s fighting alongside him. I love his dynamic with Shinobu, its not one I usually love a lot but theirs is so much fun and Shinobu really brings out Giyuu’s sass and sarcasm which is fun to see especially with him doing it deadpan. I appreciate Giyuu’s struggle as a character because I feel like its one that a lot of us can relate to and its nice to see him accept and grow comfortable with himself as the story progresses.
9. Himejima Gyomei
I will probably get a lot of hate for this one, but oh well. Unlike the other Hashira where I do like them on some level, I don’t like Gyomei at all. If you pushed me I guess I would say his extremely impractical weapon? But like, that’s really reaching. I feel like the only reason I don’t immediately forget about him is because he’s massive and is always crying with his hands in prayer stance. He’s a monk but like in name only. Maybe its just because there wasn’t enough time but I can’t think of a single time where Gyomei showed monk behavior besides saying “Namu Amida Butsu” and Genya mentions that the mantra he used fighting the Emotion Demons was something he learned from Gyomei but nothing past that. Even his crying seems to be more of an at-random thing and not a “he’s feeling deep or spiritual emotions”. We never get an explanaton for why he cries all the time and then suddenly doesn’t cry during his fighting and gets all….macho? I guess I would call it. But yeah look at that conversation between him and Tanjiro at the boulder, if those are spiritual teachings they are not good ones…so to me he doesn’t practice what he preaches, but we also aren’t really shown what he believes spiritually.
My biggest issue with him is his attitude towards children. He was bitter and mistrustful towards children after the demon attack because the TRAUMATIZED FOUR YEAR OLD didn’t express gratitude for him saving her life. Children struggle with expressing gratitude period, especially that young, they definitely aren’t going to be thinking about expressing gratitude after going through watching you bash another adult’s skull in.
And because of this he believes that children “Are pure and innocent. Weak. They lie easily…are casually cruel…and selfish.” Children are this way unless they are taught correctly, adults are this way even if they ARE taught correctly. Children’s brains aren’t fully developed at four years old, and yeah, Gyomei doesn’t know that science but seeing as he was raising other kids there, he should understand kids better than he does. Children lie easily because at that young of an age the worst thing that can happen to you is getting in trouble, so you lie to avoid it. You have to be taught how to deal with that properly. Children are not “casually cruel”, they don’t understand that their words and actions impact other people’s emotions and feelings the way that adults do they have to be shown and taught it, just like everyone else. That’s not something that just comes from predisposition. Children are selfish? So are adults, and children don’t become selfless unless they are shown and taught it. Gyomei went through this trauma too, so I don’t blame him for his knee jerk reaction being upset at the child, but the fact that afterwards he stayed upset and decided that children are all these things, and staying upset that she didn’t show gratitude? That’s ridiculous.
#demon slayer#kyojuro rengoku#flame hashira#demon slayer mugen train#rengoku kyojuro#flame pillar#set your heart ablaze#mitsuri kanroji#iguro obanai#muichiro tokito#giyuu tomioka#shinobu kochou#sanemi shinaguzawa#anon ask#hashira rank#sorry this too so long buut i have been going through a lot and there was a lot to write#my opinions
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Me again and on the same day, so... I hope I'm not being annoying...
But what do you think about ccity3? (if you have already read it)
I may end up releasing some spoilers, so if you don't want to risk it, don't continue reading!!
I mean, more specifically what do you think about the shadows of Az, Ruhn and Comarc?
Today I saw an E/riel girl saying that the shadows disappear when they (Ruhn and Comarc) are comfortable, so they insisted again that Az's shadows disappearing with Elain is a good sign... I don't believe it's the same thing, definitely.
(But I don't have much context from Ccity, I haven't read them yet. Well, just the third one to see my girl Ness and Az)
And if you've already read it, what did you think of the Bryce&Az&Ness extra, the ending in particular; from shadows dancing to Az humming; of the exact words "could have sworn" being used in both of Az's extras twice;
And the song "Stone Mother"; Do you think it has a "meaning" for the future? I've seen people saying this is about Elain, I particularly agree with something I read about it having some connection to his mother (who was briefly mentioned during the extra)
They distorted a part claiming that the shadows danced with Bryce's cell phone, but that doesn't happen. I've never met an Elriel who played fair, they're always trying to change what was said. (Some said they were very confident after Ccity3, and I honestly didn't understand why)
Well, maybe I'm just super paranoid, looking for a little Gwynriel in every line... lol
I actually feel special to have gotten two asks in a day from you so thank you!!
I think if we were to compile a list of everything Az's shadows have ever done from start to finish in series, we'd find conflicting information.
I imagine there was a time where SJM did not truly know what she was doing with Az's shadows or what she wanted them to do for a particular love interest because she wasn't even sure that Az was getting a book early on.
And I think it's also a bit difficult for us to compare them to Cormac because the way Az's shadows came to him is unique. We're told that they came to Az while he was born in the dungeon, an airless, light-less prison where he learned the language of the shadows and it's difficult to say if the relationship he developed with them is equal to that of those with similar powers. Ruhn and Rhys share similar powers however it's evident that Rhys is by far and away much more powerful.
Az's shadows aren't exactly "him". They seem to be a bit sentient when you consider that he tells us they keep him company, that they whisper to him. He is not fully in control of his shadows at all times, they told him to sleep and he thought on how he wished he could.
I'm not saying we'd want Az's shadows to be swarming and ready to strike like snakes at all times, that's clearly not a good thing for either Az or the shadows. But having them tend to vanish around someone when he tells us they've been his companion would be like a friend who you grow up with start disappearing anytime your girlfriend came around. Wouldn't it be better if his shadows remained but were at rest or calm?
That's not the narrative SJM put out there for his shadows around Elain in SF though. They skittered away from her, he says they tend to vanish when she's around. It's clear that in SF Az is not in a great place so for E/riels to say they disappear around her because he's calm and that's a good thing is a complete contradiction to him thinking on how he's been ignoring her because he's bothered by her bond. She clearly does not bring him peace.
In the same book we're told that his shadows are afraid of the Sun and in HOFAS, we get more evidence that they don't hold up to light very well.
When you consider how SJM often connects Elain to light and sunshine it seems pretty obvious that she's telling us Elain's penchant for those things is not going to compliment what we know of Az's shadows.
She also could not have made it more clear that the shadows responded to Gwyn in a way they never did with Elain. They danced and twirled with her breath, they were content to sit on Az's shoulders and watch when before the shadows were trying to get him to bed, they sang in response to her song (just as they sang in response to Az's humming). Saying they vanish around one female while having them curious and a bit playful with another, even if it's only in relation to her powers (as E/riels like to claim) is still better for the shadows......which are a part of Az but not fully him. They don't need to love Gwyn because the shadows are not possibly mated to Gwyn. But if Az is mated to Gwyn and his shadows have a bit of a thing for her song then is that not an extremely symbiotic relationship for all parties involved?
I'm not even sure Azriel understood the lyrics of the song because Nesta says she couldn't understand them so maybe it was truly just the melody that captivated Az. And the way the melody was described is a lot like the music of the priestesses service.
As likes music.
Gwyn is a singer.
Az himself began humming once the phone stopped playing.
They share a common interest and that's a valid thing to comment on in regards to a ship.
If Az was aware of the lyrics and the lyrics had to do with the Stone Mother legend than I'd hope no one would be trying to turn the words into anything ship related as the legend is Native American and Elain and Gwyn are white. But to your point, it could have something to do with his mother as she is Illyrian.
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Kinktober Day 19: Feet
Rating: R-18+
Word Count: 4965
Warnings: one instance of gendered language, the rest is gender neutral, foot fetish, foot job, toe licking, some angst for spice, reader is implied to have had a bad/abusive past but nothing is specifically mentioned in that regard
A/N: sorry I got so sidetracked for a minute there efvkefkeke but I'm back to finish these Kinktober prompts at last lol
⭐
You’re halfway through the door, tray of tea and afternoon snacks in hand, when you come to an abrupt, china rattling halt just over the threshold. That you very nearly send scalding hot liquid splashing across the floor doesn’t even seem to register in that moment as you incredulously widen your eyes at the back of Baizhu’s head. You’d expected to find the chair in front of his desk empty and the bed soundly occupied but — a quick, surreptitious glance at the neatly straightened sheets assures you you’re not imagining things, and you had in fact walked in on the exact opposite.
What was he thinking?
“Doctor?” You call over, soft and politely tentative.
He doesn’t even have the grace to act surprised at being caught, nor does he turn to look at you, and just keeps writing in the heavy ledger spread open before him without pause.
“Ah, is it that time already?” He says over his shoulder in that always pleasant tone. “I thought I still had a chance to get a bit more work done before you came back and shackled me to my bed again.”
“That’s not funny.” You sigh in defeat and shuffle further inside to come up alongside him at the desk.
Standing there for a moment, you just watch him scribble away, dip his brush in the ink and carefully touch it to paper again before continuing on with nary a sign of interruption in the flowing script. You couldn’t quite make out what it said though — not because his penmanship was bad or anything. It was all clean and precise, and nearly perfectly balanced across the sheet but you didn’t know how to read half of the complicated characters, having never been taught more than a few of them. Baizhu was actively trying to rectify that but, well. You hadn’t quite made it that far yet.
At last, you draw a pointed breath when he still won’t stop long enough to look up and actually acknowledge you. “What are you doing, doctor? You should be resting. You know that.”
“Yes, yes, I’m well aware you’re concerned about me overexerting myself and I do appreciate the care.” He chuckles softly, pausing to dip the long handled brush into the inkwell again. “But a tiny bit of inventory isn’t going to kill me, dear. I promise.”
“Inventory?” You echo him in confusion. “How are you able to do that without looking in the storeroom or what’s stocked in the pharmacy?”
Finally bringing his head up to offer you a small, gentle smile, Baizhu gestures somewhat vaguely at the room at large. “This is both my home and my livelihood, isn’t it? One would find me quite lacking if I wasn’t even aware of what inventory moves quickly and what lingers for a while. It’s not too difficult to estimate the daily needs of the pharmacy based on my years of previous experience keeping everything running as it should.”
You were undoubtedly impressed by that, your brows lifting in surprise and something not unlike awe, and yet you still find yourself saying, “But what if something has suddenly changed and your estimates aren’t correct?”
Noising a brief sound of consideration, Baizhu lifts his unoccupied hand to thoughtfully touch the backs of his knuckles to his chin. “Hm, changed in what way? If there was a sudden influx of sick people all suffering from the same symptoms and, therefore, requiring the same kind of medicine, I certainly would have heard about it and could easily make the proper adjustments.”
“But … I don’t know, what if someone was stealing from you?”
He blinks at that as he slowly glances up at you again. The tiny little smile that pulls at his mouth promptly makes you flush under his ever watchful eye. “Oh? And have you been helping yourself to my herbs, dear girl?”
“N - no, of course not! I wouldn’t even think to do something like that!”
Chuckling, he serenely turns back to the ledger again. “I know you wouldn’t. I was only teasing you a little bit.”
Trying not to pout and failing rather miserably at it, you turn your head away from him only to spot Changsheng curled up in a tight coil on the far windowsill, sunning herself in the mid morning sun. Well, at least that explained her suspicious lack of commentary thus far. Stamping down the urge to heave yet another sigh, you shuffle forward to place the tray on the corner of the desk. There wasn’t any use in trying to argue the matter further. Baizhu always had a ready answer on hand no matter what you questioned him about, and his need for bedrest was no different from the inventory in that regard.
“Would you care to sit with me for a while?”
Your head comes up halfway through the motion of turning to leave, but his attention remains focused on what he’s writing. Perhaps you would have found it a bit off putting if only you were not quite so familiar with the doctor's usual habits and peculiarities. If he was asking you a question like that then it probably meant he was keen on having the company … or perhaps he just missed having Changsheng hanging off his neck. Not that you could exactly crawl on top of him and take her spot or anything but the sentiment was still a nice one, wasn’t it?
“You wouldn’t find it too distracting to have me hovering around you, doctor?”
“Of course not, dear. Having you around is always such a pleasure.”
Even the teasing tone in his voice is not enough to keep the smile off your face. Your initial misgivings are long forgotten now as you step behind his chair over to the other side of the desk where you eagerly hop up to perch on the ledge. Laughing under his breath, Baizhu reaches over to briefly dip the brush in ink yet again and then continues on with his work. Content just to be sharing his space with him like this, you watch on for what feels like a lifetime. It was always like that, though. You could have sat with him in complete silence all day and never gotten bored of looking at him.
But it doesn’t last forever, and your skin tingles warmly when he eventually slides his free hand over to lightly touch yours where it’s braced atop the desk. It’s an idle gesture, one that he doesn’t seem to give much thought considering the way his brush just keeps flicking over the blocky characters without even a moment's pause. If you didn’t know any better you would have almost thought it a subconscious action. Something his fingers felt compelled to do for no other reason than the close proximity of another person.
You were just as familiar with this part of him as his stubborn refusal to heed the warnings of others, however, so you allow your fingertips to brush over his palm. It was nice being able to share such quiet amity with him, and you suspected he felt much the same way as you did. A simple comfort.
“There,” He finally sets the brush aside some minutes later with a satisfied exhale. “That should just about do it, I believe. I’ll just have to double check everything is as it should be once I’m allowed back into the pharmacy again.”
“Doctor Baizhu,” You can’t quite keep the soft inflection out of your voice now. “I already told you those jokes aren’t funny. We’re not holding you hostage or anything like that …”
His elegant shoulders softly shake as he turns that fond look on you again. “I know you’re not, dear. But the way you and Gui act it’s like you think I’m going to shatter at the first upset though. You know I’m more resilient than that, don’t you?”
Frowning, you shift your attention down to your lap. Sometimes you weren’t so sure about that … but before you can figure out how to articulate that in a way that wouldn’t make you sound like an anxious mother hen (an ironic role reversal if there ever was one) Baizhu brings his hand up to rest across your knee. He gives it a brief squeeze that makes your pulse quicken, and you find yourself slowly glancing up from under the fall of your lashes.
“Your heart is very much in the right place and I do appreciate it.” He tells you with perfect sincerity now. “I have no intention of admitting defeat so easily though. There are still many things I need to see to in this world before I can even think about crossing over to the next … teaching you how to read and write is right at the top of that list, for starters.”
Your cheeks burn in shame and deep felt mortification alike. Baizhu had taken you in off the streets even when every shred of common sense should have dictated that it wasn’t a good idea to do so. Even Changsheng’s initial sass and uncertainty hadn’t been enough to dissuade him from it though, so you knew he wasn’t saying such things from a place of malice or discontent. He seemed to genuinely want the best for you — and that’s why you don’t protest when he runs his hand lower to comfortingly caress over your calf.
“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” He assures you with a gentle pat. “You’ve already made commendable progress in just the short amount of time we’ve been working on it. I’m very proud of you, you know.”
You squirm, growing increasingly more flustered the more he not only talks but also touches you with that gentle familiarity. “Thank you, doctor. But … I'm just not sure how I can repay you for everything.”
That wasn’t entirely true. You did have one idea.
But you were always hesitant to instigate these sorts of encounters with him, mainly because regardless of how many times you went through the motions together Baizhu never sought you out himself. It was always you doing the pursuing, coming on to him and offering up thanks the only way you really knew how. He seemed perfectly willing once things got started so you didn’t necessarily think it was a matter of him not wanting to share the intimacy of a lover with you, but it did make you doubt yourself just a little bit.
Even now the brush of his fingers on your leg remains innocent and unassuming as if the thought of where else this might otherwise lead had never even crossed his mind and he was perfectly content with simply appreciating the warmth of your skin against his. You weren’t sure if it was a result of him being so used to Changsheng’s near constant presence around his neck that made him this comfortable with casual touching or if he was just like this naturally, but he seemed not to want for anything more than that. Were you possibly overstepping some unspoken boundary when you laid yourself bare at his feet? Was he perhaps too polite and kind to tell you ‘no’ even if he really didn’t want it?
You truly had no idea. Baizhu was so unlike anyone else you’d ever met that you really couldn’t make sense of him sometimes. The inventory, the way he refused to take care of himself amidst taking care of everyone else, the touching, his insistence that you should know how to read and write … he truly was an enigma.
“You needn’t worry yourself about unnecessary things like that.” He tells you, and the affectionately gentle tone in his lilting voice just further throws you into turmoil. “I didn’t invite you into my home with the expectation of receiving anything in return so no thanks are necessary. Just keep doing your best every day and I’ll be perfectly content with that.”
And isn’t that precisely why he deserved to be on the receiving end of such favors?
Stealing another quick look at the far windowsill, you confirm that Changsheng is still softly snoozing away before shifting on top of the desk to fully face him. Baizhu tips his head in question, looking totally unawares, and it almost gives you pause. It’s a little hard to shake the feeling that perhaps you were the bad guy here, like maybe you were the one taking advantage of him, but … surely that wasn’t the case, right? If he didn’t want it he would have said so, wouldn’t he?
You feel uncharacteristically shy, almost sheepish as you curl your leg up and brush the ankle against his thigh in clear suggestion. His expression promptly settles into a neutral look of understanding. He doesn’t show any signs of being pleased or excited by it, but he also doesn’t look repulsed by your advances either. Just accepting. Of you, of this — archons, even when he wasn’t teasing you he was still the most difficult and confusing man you’d ever known.
“This isn’t something you need to do for me. You must know by now that I’ll be perfectly fine without it.”
Face warming with what you think is probably shame, you nod in understanding. “I do, but … I’d like to make you feel good, if that’s okay.”
Drawing a stitled breath that makes his narrow shoulders rise and then fall when he lets it out on a slow exhale, Baizhu loosely curls his fingers around your calf. Drags them lower to give your ankle a reassuring squeeze and then further down to nudge off your slipper. It hits the floor with a near silent flop against the hardwood, and then he’s cupping the heel of your foot in his palm. Gently lifting it to chest level, he bends to press a chaste kiss to your toes.
“You’re very kind to me, dear, but I hope you don’t think I expect such favors from you just for providing you with a roof over your head.” He murmurs, and you give your head a shake this time.
“That’s not it. I know you don’t. I just want to be able to do something for you in return …” And this was the only thing you knew how to do with any amount of skill. You were neither a scholar nor talented in any trade. You couldn’t read or write. Some days it felt like you struggled just to serve the tea properly.
But this was something you had plenty of experience in and you liked to think you did it well. That doesn’t exactly disperse the niggling thought in the back of your mind that tells you you’re somehow forcing yourself on the doctor, that you were coercing or forcing him to give in. There’s a certain amount of guilt that comes with this, on your part at least, but you can’t quite seem to find the resolve to stop doing it.
And Baizhu does give in, though not without an almost sad, barely noticeable softening of his strange burnished gold eyes. Still cradling your foot in his hand, he presses his mouth to the sensitive pad this time to make your toes flex at the ticklish feeling before lowering your leg. You watch him carefully direct it to his lap and a dull thrill races through you when the weight of him through his pants meets the arch. Using both hands now, he takes a moment to just fondle over the extremity and massage his fingers into your skin. An unexpected shudder dances up your spine when he locates a particularly tender spot that seems to bleed some of the tension from your body when he presses on it.
Of all the things you’d expected to have to do for him this one had been relatively low on your list. Liking feet did not appear to be so strange or unheard of in the grander scheme, but you can’t quite decide how you actually felt about him using only this part of you to get off. Certainly other areas would make him feel even better — your mouth, at least, but he always kept his attention on your feet instead. That embarrasses you a bit too, if you were being honest, but the way he softly sighs in budding arousal stops you from pressing the matter.
If this was what made him feel good then you would happily give that to him.
“Your skin has gotten even softer since the last time,” He murmurs, clearly pleased by that. “Those herb scrubs are doing wonders to reverse the damage done before you came here. It really is a shame you had to struggle so much just to survive.”
“It’s okay, since I don’t have to do those things anymore.” And you intended to keep it that way, no matter the cost or what it took. Baizhu had given you a new life, a new purpose for existing, so of course you would want to repay him. It was only natural, right?
When he smiles it picks up the edge of sadness you can just make out in his eyes, but his voice remains soft and even toned. “Are you certain about this? I know you always seem eager to please but …”
“I’m sure. You enjoy it, don’t you?” Pointedly curling your toes to nudge them against the faint bulge under your foot, you keenly observe the way his dark lashes give a slight flutter in response. He stirs underneath you, becoming more pronounced. A little thicker. But still, he doesn’t immediately jump at the chance.
“I do. More than I’d like to admit, if I’m being honest.” His fingers tracing over the jut of your ankle bone, Baizhu regards you in quiet contemplation for a long moment before drawing a careful breath. “Thank you for having me in this way, dear. I don’t exactly have the time to cultivate many relationships, and taking on a lover seems … ill advised, given my condition. As long as you understand that there is a limit to what I can give you in return, I have no qualms about it.”
Your stomach sinks. So that was it then, wasn’t it? His hesitancy didn’t stem from a lack of wanting but wary caution when his own mortality always at the forefront of his mind, dictating all of his decisions. What he could do, what he would allow himself to do, how much he would comfortably let another person in. That was the crux.
Perhaps you should have felt bad about chipping away at his self erected defenses to end up at this point where he was openly admitting it to you, but somehow you just really don’t.
You feel emboldened, in fact, and you gently rub the pad of your foot over him with a fresh spike of courage searing your veins. Baizhu hums a low sound in response and lets his eyes slip shut for a moment, just basking in the sensation. It was vindicating, in a way. Knowing it wasn’t a problem with you or the burden you’d been carrying when you came to him. The fact he’d held out this long — no doubt wanting to avoid any further exploitation — was a testament to his strength of will, but he was still human. He was still a man with all the hardwired urges and impulses of any other.
Just as you’d thought, then. You really were the only one who could take care of him in this way.
Directing your foot a little lower down, you take a moment to gently nudge at and tease the weight of his ballsack between his legs. You can see the growing tent in his pants now, straining up just above your toes. He looses a shuddering breath and slowly rolls his hips forward to grind himself on you. A sense of reluctance still remains, you can see it in the tense set of his shoulders, but that doesn’t quite stop him from acting on it.
“You’ve already done so much for me, doctor Baizhu.” You whisper into the suddenly static air. “Let me do something for you now.”
Hissing a low sound of wanting, he tips his face down to watch your foot slide up the now rigid length of his cock. A glossy strand of hair slips forward to hang over his shoulder, matching the crystal bauble that dangles off his glasses. It swings softly at the motion, drawing your attention to it for a brief stretch, but his attention remains locked on what you’re doing in his lap. You can tell he wants to, so you reach up a little higher to toe at the sash around his waist.
“Untie this for me?”
Baizhu hesitates only for as long as it takes you to blink, and then he’s stiffly bringing his hands up to tug at the knot. It comes loose with a near silent slither, not unlike one that Changsheng would make, and you dart your eyes up to make sure she was still where you’d last seen her. It didn’t look like she’d so much as moved since you’d entered the room some time ago though. Hopefully she really was fast asleep over there in the warm sun or she at least had the sense to keep pretending to be. The doctor wasn’t afforded many opportunities like this, and you knew he’d put an end to it immediately if she alerted him.
But for now at least, he makes quick work of getting his soft pants pushed down enough to allow his cock to spring up between the two of you. A hot pulse of wanting spears through you at the sight, your desire to do more with it than simply rub your feet on it almost overpowering your higher functioning mind. But you pointedly stay on track, and lift your leg to press that stiff length against his flat stomach. Using this to brace against, you start to rub the pad of your foot up and down, up and down the silky underside of him.
Moaning very softly, Baizhu leans back in his chair to watch as if in transfixed silence. The light blanket he had resting over his shoulders fans out slightly with the shift, and you dare to scoot a little further over on the desk so that you’re sitting almost directly in front of him now. The soft rustle of movement settles back into silence again, interspersed only by the occasional chirp of a bird outside the window or the distant sounds of city life beyond. Lifting your eyes, you look Baizhu in the face.
To your surprise, he’s looking back at you.
“Thank you.” Is all he says, and the hushed tone of arousal in those two simple words makes your blood boil. Oh, how you wanted him to be yours so badly.
“You needn’t thank me, doctor.” You murmur as you fan your toes out over the head of his cock and knead them down into the glans. It makes his chest hitch, his golden gaze taking on a far away, almost dreamy quality.
Quickly, you bring your other foot up and snatch the slipper off that one too. You don’t even register the sound of it hitting the floor as you press in on the base to massage both ends of him at the same time. A faltering groan slips out of delicately parted lips, and he tips his head back to sigh up at the ceiling in appreciation.
It’s a bit awkward like this, but you soon find a steady rhythm that has your feet moving over him in tandem while he sedately rolls his hips forward to fuck himself on the pads, arches and toes. Just as every other time it’s escalated to this, Baizhu shows no visible signs of uncertainty now and, in fact, he’s actually quite open about how much he’s enjoying it. You can see the deep rise and fall of his chest gradually become more pronounced, the muscles in his stomach flexing tight with each slow motion grind against your feet. He’s beautiful like this. Even more so than he usually is, and you idly wonder if he would allow himself to express his pleasure more vocally if it was just the two of you. No employees or snakes, or zombie children to potentially alert and interrupt the moment.
Maybe if you did well enough he would let you find out some day.
“Are you sure this is enough?” You finally venture to ask when his straining cock pulses eagerly under your toes. It was no exaggeration to say that you would have given him anything he wanted, no matter how strange or demeaning it may have been, but he only gives his head a distracted shake.
“Yes, dear, just like this is fine. More than fine, actually.” Drawing a shuddering breath, Baizhu brings his attention back down as he lifts a hand up to grasp your topmost foot. He takes a moment to covetously squeeze it, feeling along the skin before carefully guiding it towards his chest once again. “I don’t think I’m in any position to ask for more anyway, but this is plenty. I’m afraid I can’t seem to get enough of these cute toes of yours as it is.”
Your heart stutters a beat when he bends his head over your captured limb and instead of leaving it at just the kiss he reverently presses into the toes, he opens his mouth to lick over the thin layer of skin as well. The sensation makes you jolt, especially when he drags his tongue between the first two digits to attack the sensitive webbing inside. You seethe and try very hard not to yank your foot away when it tickles almost enough to make you squeal. Baizhu doesn’t appear all that concerned about it though, and he merely peers up at you from over the rim of his glasses. Watching your reaction, or perhaps gauging how much you could take before you couldn’t reasonably keep your voice in check any longer. Either way, he’d never taken it quite this far before and you had no idea what to make of it.
Not the fact he was doing it at all or the startling revelation that comes with it. You hadn’t expected the space between your toes to be this sensitive, and you shudder despite yourself.
“D - doctor …!”
He lets out a low sound of pleasure, warm breath puffing against damp skin as he reaches over with the opposite hand to grasp the foot still keeping his cock pinned. Fondling over it, he maintains his eye contact with you when he swipes his tongue between your toes a second time, and you really do almost recoil. You’d never felt anything quite like it before. Soft and warm, and squishy, and you really weren’t sure how you felt about it wriggling over your toes like that.
Pulling in a quiet gasp, you clutch the edge of the desk in a death grip while he grinds his throbbing cock against one foot and licks at the other. His breathing was quickly turning ragged, his cheeks a little flushed. It makes your head spin to see him like that, but somehow the borderline ticklish sensation of his tongue almost manages to distract you from it.
If he ever put his mouth on the spot between your legs like that …
“Ohh, goodness,” Panting, Baizhu hunches forward over your legs with a full bodied shudder. The motion of his hips falters for a split second and then morphs into something a bit more urgent. More needy. His cock stiffly works back and forth, back and forth across the soft arch of your foot, along the pad and up to nudge your toes before dragging back down again.
It’s not hard to imagine him rutting inside your body this way, and it pulls a low moan from the back of your throat. The sound seems to tip him over the edge and, brows knitting in deeply felt pleasure, he presses his mouth firm against the bottom of the foot he’s still clasping, hissing against the skin. His sputtering length gives a muted twitch. You can feel the dull, subsequent contractions that follow as it pumps out a thin jet of creamy fluid to coat your extremity, and then another. He goes still with one final spurt, issuing a frazzled, sensitive moan that quietly trails off into nothing.
The resounding silence is almost too much for you to bear.
“I’m sorry,” He wheezes at length, once he’s calmed his breathing down some. “I seem to have made quite a mess.”
“It’s alright.” Trying to keep your voice pleasantly even, you curl your toes down into the softening cock to lightly massage it. “As long as you feel good that’s all that matters. I’m just glad I can do something for you …”
Releasing a stilted exhale, he gingerly straightens up in his chair. You don’t miss the vague grimace that crosses his lovely face when he sees the sticky evidence of your illicit activities, and Baizhu softly tuts as he reaches into a pocket to withdraw a dainty handkerchief. He uses it to wipe up the clumpy mess with another soft word of apology, his hands gentle where they touch. Looking at him like that, bent over your feet and sincerely apologizing for something you’d talked him into doing, you once again find yourself being hit with a strange sense of guilt. It was only natural to want to thank him with such favors … wasn’t it?
So then why did you feel like you’d done something wrong?
⭐
Crossposted: here
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It never used to be, but put like 200~ written sex scenes behind you, and one day as you keep trying to make them better and better they suddenly just become more challenging than the average action scene. (Because they are a kind of action scene).
I relate to this on a spiritual level. When I've done something enough times and have become good at it it starts to get difficult again. It's kind of a paradox. But I've learned that once I let go of always trying to improve something I'm already good at or 'make it better' I actually rediscover my enjoyment.
Your stories are some of the best I've read. And your smut is amazing because there's always worldbuilding and character development behind it. Perhaps I'm biased because I'm demisexual and I need emotional components to enjoy the smexy stuff 😅 But it honestly doesn't bother me that you don't write pure smut anymore.
Obviously i hope you don't stop writing it completely (I'd be sad if you only wrote gen fics going forward but I'd still read and love them) but you gotta do whatever's best for you. And if that means no longer writing sex scenes then so be it.
But just know that you don't have to get better at it because you're already the cream of the crop as far as I'm concerned.
Maybe you just need a break from writing that sort of stuff? You might rediscover your love for it after some time away. Just food for thought.
Anyway... looking forward to whatever you write in the future. We'll support you no matter what <3
Hi anon,
This is super kind, and I have definitely taken lengthy breaks from writing erotica (literally almost over a year). In fact two of my main stories over the last few years - Falling Falling Stars and The Nascent Diplomat haven't had smut in them partly for that reason.
Unfortunately it's still just a struggle. We all have things that don't come easily to us. I can generate characters as easily as breathing, and dialogue / character voice is an instinctive, natural skill. But erotica is just... yeah, challenging.
I definitely don't plan on stopping writing it! A bunch of my stories right now have smut in them and are going to have smut in them going forward. :D
I can't see me ever just writing gen honestly.
But yeah I've taken very very long sabbaticals from writing smut. The reality is even these days I can go 2-3 months without writing any, which is kind of amazing, because I write over 100k words in those 2-3 months. So there's definitely breaks happening.
I don't know that I am good at erotica, though I appreciate that you think so! I'm a bit unconventional re: how lengthy my erotica scenes are (and how character-growth focused they are lol), but AO3 taught me and I prefer AO3 sex scenes over all others.
...I wandered away from this post for 5 hours and then came back like 'oh you didn't press post to this yet?' so anyway sadlfkjjas I may be having problems writing smut for a wHOLE lot of additional reasons too lmao
#asks and answers#pia on writing#tbh my brain is just weird about it and always has been#from the first chapter i posted that i felt very embarrassed about#to like the latest where i just always think#'did i do what i set out to achieve in this scene'#or 'man this didn't have the 30 different things i imagined it having'#or just sdkfjas t iredness remembering all the moving body parts lol
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Married Lawlight Headcanons:
Pet Names:
Light: calls L 'dear'. 'Sweetie' if he's being passive aggressive.
L: calls Light 'honey'. 'My love' if he's in a good mood.
Cooking:
Light: learns it quickly. Makes great meals. He always wears an apron because he hates stains.
L: has never touched a frying pan in his life. He can't boil an egg (that's a joke. or is it? hehe). Probably could make something if he wanted to but the quality would be questionable.
Eating:
Light: eats like a prince. Even when he's alone. Excellent table manners.
L: eats like a gremlin. Practically shoves food into his mouth. Sometimes makes slurping noises just to mess with Light. It always works. If he's drinking tea and he hears something surprising/shocking, then he will spit it out. Light forces him to clean it up.
Sleeping:
Light: sleeps peacefully. Heavy sleeper.
L: suffers from insomnia (that's already canon). Light sleeper. Probably talks in his sleep. If Light is ever awake while L's napping, he gets startled by his mumbling. It creeps him out. He doesn't think he'll ever get used to it. He also kicks (capoeira!). Light isn't too bothered by it though, because he loves him very much (aww). Although he might push L off of the bed if he's in a bad mood and can't put up with that shit (don't worry, the floor is carpeted! or has a carpet, you choose. I hate carpeted floors tbh. I'm a carpet lover haha).
Kinks:
Light: wants L to worship his body, definitely (I AM YOUR GOD). Praise kink? I don't think so. He already knows he's perfect (his words not mine). Hand fetish? Yeah, why not. He loves watching L bite his own nails and fingers. Has to look away so he doesn't get a boner (LMAO). He likes choking L (hello, Kira).
L: foot fetish (I'm sorry but the foot scene lives rent free in my head. It's also a tag on ao3: L has a foot fetish. So, yeah. HE CANONICALLY KNOWS HOW TO MASSAGE FEET. DID WATARI TEACH HIM?? Maybe he did it to alleviate the pain on L's feet caused by the way he sits and L learned it that way). He will drop whatever he's doing to give Light a foot massage if he asks for it. Voyeurism perhaps (he stares a LOT). Knows how to use his tongue (I'm looking at you cherry stems tied in a knot) so he's amazing at giving blow jobs. Maybe biting? He bites a lot of things so idk. I think he would bite Light at least once. Just to see how he would react lol. Scent kink (Light smells great. Of course he does) steals some of Light's clothes just to sniff them. Light finds it endearing and reasonable (he knows he smells good. L taking his clothes only serves to stroke his already over-inflated ego). Likes being tied up (he handcuffed himself to Light for 100 DAYS. Kinky). So I think he'd be into handcuffs and Japanese rope bondage. Canon states that he takes on difficult cases to prolong the time he spends solving them. Because this way he's keeping himself entertained for longer. You know what that means. ORGASM DELAY/DENIAL! Don't know if he does it to Light but he certainly likes it when Light does it to him. Dacryphilia because he likes seeing Light vulnerable. You bet he licks those tears, baby! (definitely has a mug that says YOUR TEARS. In Cloister Black of course).
Sickness:
Light: tries to avoid L. Fails spectacularly. They always end up making out (if he isn't vomiting and stuff). L gets sick afterwards. Light nurses him back to health (has to gently coerce him to take medicine he doesn't like because it's too bitter, or eat food that isn't sweet). Sees it as a mild inconvenience.
L: doesn't avoid Light. Is grumpy, which makes him more sarcastic than usual. Overdramatic. Thinks he's dying. Being sick makes it almost impossible for him to sleep, which in turn makes him even grumpier. Wants to cuddle with Light but Light evades him very skillfully (rightfully so).
Bickering:
Light: will try to come out on top. Not looking for a middle ground (Thought process: I can't be wrong. I'm perfect!). Acts smug when he wins.
L: tries to de-escalate. Doesn't like bickering with Light. Feels bad every time they do. Doesn't care about winning, just wants the fight to end.
Cleanliness:
Light: neat-freak. He vacuums the house every day (no dust in his house, no sir).
L: clean but not as obsessed as Light. It's good that he always has his feet on whatever surface he's sitting, this way he doesn't have to lift them when Light is vacuuming or mopping the floor (isn't that great).
Bathing:
Light: in standard Japanese fashion, he bathes every day. Likes bath bombs (especially red ones, THE BLOOD OF HIS VICTIMS, YEAHHH! Maybe blue and black too because they remind him of L).
L: bathes daily too. They usually bathe together, unless one of them is sick or angry. Likes bubbles. Maybe he has a rubber duck (it would be cute).
Makeup:
Light: wears red (L's favorite color because he likes strawberries. My mental gymnastics are top notch, aren't they?) lipstick whenever he feels like it. When that happens, L always ends up having lipstick on his clothes and face.
L: uses nail polish from time to time (shown in Death Note 13: How to Read. Yeah, I know it's a joke but now it's a headcanon woohoo!). Very good at three-dimensional nail art (look at the comic panel, DAMN L. WHO TAUGHT YOU THAT?).
Things they like about each other:
Light: L's laugh. Will crack jokes endlessly just to hear him laugh. It makes him feel amazing. He doesn't know why. Was completely awestruck the first time he heard it.
L: Light's reactions. Seeing his face change expressions is entertainment for him. He will constantly try out/say new things even without meaning them, just to see how Light will react.
Things they don't like about each other:
Light: L disagreeing with him (Why can't you see that I'm right?).
L: Light's stubbornness (poor guy can't catch a break). It exasperates him.
Anniversaries/Birthdays:
Light: never forgets them. Always gets something for L. Either a present or himself wearing something naughty, or both (he canonically wears a corset at some point in order to carry the note, so, my headcanon is that he buys a few corsets once he marries L. He loves wowing him, feels a sense of accomplishment every time he does. He wears other things too, but corsets are his go-to. L has a thing for them, they look restrictive and he likes restraints so...).
L: has memory problems due to insomnia. Has to mark down a lot of things so he doesn't forget. Sometimes he ends up forgetting anyway. Light forgives him (because that's what good husbands do). Whether he forgets or not isn't of any consequence however, because either way, he will buy Light the best thing money can buy. The gifts are so extravagant that Light feels guilty. He tries not to show it, but L (being L, the world's greatest detective) can see right through him. L does everything he can to lessen his guilt. By showing him a lot of physical affection (all kinds of kisses, hugs, handholding, having him sit on his lap, caressing his hair and whispering sweet nothings into his ear).
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Hi! I am trying to translate some of my oc’s names in clanmew but am running into trouble with how region-specific they are. I was wondering what you thought of these?
Agavebloom: Luparkikmwaro -- translates directly to “blue-spike-is-blooming” since there isn’t a good word to translate agave into. The closest members to the agave family I could translate to would be either lily or bluebell, which would be Urchamwaro (lily-of-the-valley-is-blooming) or Hebsimwaro (bluebell-is-blooming). I feel like the additional flowers take away the meaning of his name though, since it’s supposed to come from the fact that agaves take forever to bloom especially to a cat, therefore a rarity, and his mentor had never had a surviving apprentice before.
Guanopelt: Hafefylborrl -- translates to bird/bat pelt, since there’s no easy way to translate guano lol. But yes he’s literally named after bat poop, his clan really likes unconventional/gross names.
Chollasting: Also really difficult! I finally settled on Kikluarapokal, spine-jumping-stinging-nettle, since there doesn’t seem to be any cacti translations, and she’s named after jumping cholla cacti and how much it hurts when they attach to you.
If there’s any better suggestions for these names please let me hear them!
Hmm...
Agave is definitely a hard one, since I can't think of any plants that base Clanmew-speaking cats would even liken it to. It looks like a burdock or a teasel growing like a bush. I would recommend coming up with a word in your Clan's dialect to describe it, that's quite unique.
But here's some new words that you can play around with to make a word for yourself;
Greater Burdock/Lappa (Arctium lappa) = Kegdio
A type of "thistle" in Clanmew with a very small flower and a whole LOT of spikes.
Teasel (Dipsacus fullonum) = Oorra
Probably the closest we'll get to a "cactus," because, cacti are a New World family! If you went to a desert in Africa or Eurasia, you would not find a cactus, except for some cool not-a-cactus-but-trying-to-be types down towards Madagascar. Teasels are considered a type of thistle in Clanmew, and used in some finishing stages of textile processing as a brush. It's a fleshy, green, spiky plant with a round "ring" of a flower.
This word is Parkmew in origin, and is related to the word for the King's "crown" in reference to its distinctive flower ring.
Fruited/Fruiting/Will Fruit = Pakawooan/Pakawooa/Pakawoo
The act of a plant bearing fruit. Because most Clan cats are NOT ThunderClan (we say, pointedly, at thunderclan), this does not refer only to edible fruits. This equally refers to apple trees and OAK trees, dropping acorns.
This is VERY important when you take into account that Clan cats are carnivores, and fruiting trees mean more prey.
First Fruiting/Promotion = Ka'paka
The verbs for fruiting ONLY applies to a plant after the ka'paka-- its very first crop. It is the mark of maturity for a fruiting plant. It has a double use for promotion through ranks as well
On Guano... the first thing my mind goes to is Sslop, which is the term for wet, sticky mud in Clanmew. When used in reference to body parts, it suddenly means "mucus" or "body fluid," hence Runningnose's name (Sslopchoop) being a difficult translation.
You could combine Sslop and the word for white, Osk, to make Sslosk. I don't know too much about guano, but I've heard it can be a fuel, though I'm unsure of how true it is.
So, you can play around with this word if you'd like;
Peat = Mai
The vital material buried under the turf of a moorland, made from layers of buried plant matter. Highly flammable!
There's also words for bats in the Lexicon, if you'd like to check there!
And, lastly, Cholla. Like I mentioned, we won't be finding any cacti here. The closest will be teasel. Burr (kido) is also in the Lexi, but there's one more interesting word that could have been likened to cacti in a new environment;
Sundew (Drosera rotundifolia) = Kigu
Comes from an intense contraction of Swarming Bug-Eating (Kbkb Guburoo), the only purely carnivorous plant that Clan cats see on a regular basis. A fleshy green with bright red, sticky hairs that rise off it, it's hard to miss and endlessly fascinates the cats. A plant that hunts! What a wonderful, respectable creature!
I can imagine Clan cats dropped off in the middle of a western hemisphere desert might apply this sort of reverence to surrounding, hardy cacti, especially if the cacti can be used to help them survive.
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Make Your Wish || Ivar the Boneless x fem!reader
Masterlist
Summary: Ivar decides to cheer you up after an unfortunate event that left you feeling down
Warnings: none ♥
Word count: ~ 1175
Authors: Fenrir & Cass
A/N: The prompt for today is: Stargazing
according to my best friend, "Ivar speaks as if he watched too much Lion King before it was even animated, lol” ♥
There's no way you can believe it: Hvitserk cheated on you, and he isn't even sorry about the thing.
Even though you knew Hvitserk's tendencies, you hoped this time would be different; you hoped to love and be loved.
Now that you're sitting outside The Great Hall sobbing and trying to calm down as the feast is taking place, you realize you're a fool.
The inside of the building is filled with loud and happy sounds.
The only thing you want is to hide from everyone, even if others have already forgotten what happened.
Throughout the entire feast thrown by his older brother, Ivar kept an eye on you, including the scene where you caught a drunk Hvitserk fucking a thrall. After seeing, you running out, crying like a child, he decided you shouldn't be left alone.
Since he is used to crawling, Ivar decides to leave his crutch against the wooden table.
As he crawls by, he hisses and curses people, trying to think of a place you could go.
Upon leaving the Great Hall, Ivar sits casually on the ground with his back against the wall; although he is good at crawling, this shit is fucking exhausting.
It only takes him a second or two to notice the shoe prints you left, and he instinctively follows them as he scans the path leading deeper into the village.
Sitting on stones, you wipe your tears away. Accepting it is still very difficult for you. Why does he do this to you when you tried your best?
You almost fall off the stone when something suddenly touches your leg. Sighing with relief, you realize it's Ivar. "By the gods, Ivar! You scared me."
He smiles mischievously. "I didn't mean to, I mean it," he says, sitting flat on his ass and adjusting his legs. "I saw you leaving and thought I'd check out the reason."
Leaving the stone, you sit next to him.
While Ivar isn't perfect, he can be a decent man when he wants to be.
"Check out the reason? You and everyone else know why."
"Hvitserk." The word is spit through his clenched teeth as if it were some kind of dark spell. It's always Hvitserk. What did he do today?"
Your tears flow again as you explain, "He fucked the thrall, everyone saw it, he made a fool of me! What the hell was he thinking? I was good to him, and he just treated me like I was nothing? Am I really that useless, Ivar?"
The abrupt, unexpected outburst makes Ivar blink a few times and grimace a bit; he had always had trouble dealing with crying people.
You quickly wipe away the tears, "I'm sorry, you probably don't care about this. I really didn't expect this to happen."
Ivar instinctively wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer to him. "Hush," he whispers.
Taking a deep breath and nuzzling him, you let out a heavy sigh; it feels so strange, but also so good and calming at the same time.
"Thank you," you whisper.
It's dark outside, so you cannot see his reaction - he smiles to himself. "You're welcome."
As you pull away, you look at him and say, "I bet you think I'm pathetic. At the end of the day, I heard so many things about Hvitserk and his unfaithfulness, so I don't see why I am surprised. I was so stupid, and now I cry for that!"
Nodding occasionally, he listens to you. To his utter surprise, he feels bad for you, and he feels he knows exactly how you feel. He has felt that way before, too. "I didn't say that, these are your words, Y/N," he tells you softly.
Nodding, you wipe your cheek, looking at him. "It must have been difficult crawling all the way here. Thank you for coming to check on me," you tell him, offering him a gentle smile.
Ivar shrugs simply. "Why are you worried about a cripple? You're going through hardship, not me," Ivar says calmly and improves his position to rest his back more against the rocks you sat on before. Ivar whispers, "Look," and he points his index finger at the dark sky.
As you gaze up at the sky, you improve your position so that your back also rests against the stones. There are many stars in the dark sky, like beautiful lanterns set against a deep darkness.
"Make your wish quickly, Y/N!" Ivar shouts, pointing at two shooting stars. As he closes his eyes, he murmurs something to himself.
Before looking at him, you also close your eyes and murmur your own wish. "What was your wish?" You ask him openly.
A shrug of the shoulders accompanies his response, "For Bjørn to die. What was yours?"
With a blink, you soon giggle and shake your head; it's never clear if Ivar's serious or joking. You respond, "To meet someone who will make me happy," without much thought.
After a moment of thinking, Ivar leans forward and kisses your cheek briefly. The smirk on his lips widens as he stares at you for a moment. "It appears that the second part of my wish has just come true," he adds.
Totally confused by his behaviour, you stare at him in shock. "Second part? What's that?"
"That if I kiss you, you won't smack me."
You smack him on the head with a frown, then kiss his cheek.
Looking up at the stars, he smiles brightly and rests his back against the rocks. "Do you like stargazing?"
"Honestly, I do. They are so beautiful, just like diamonds or other shiny stones," you nodded and returned to watching the stars. "How about you?"
"I do, actually. I enjoy spending some productive alone time overthinking all my mistakes," he smiles, more to himself, joking darkly. "As stupid as it may sound, I like to imagine that my father and otherwise kings, among gods, are looking down on us from this endless darkness above."
"It's what my mom says, too," you smile and point at the big, bright star in the sky. "I give you my left hand as proof that this is Ragnar right now looking at us."
After cocking his brow, Ivar nods. "It might be. But if you're mistaken, you'd be left handleless, wouldn't you?"
Playfully pushing his shoulder, you tease, "He's watching his youngest son."
Despite his eyebrows cocked, Ivar gives you a stern look before smiling widely. "I would appreciate some help with horses if you could join me at the stables tomorrow. It's my turn to take care of them."
"I would love to help you, especially now that I don't have to worry about Hvitserk," you nod your head a little too eagerly.
Ivar smiles and squeezes your hand, telling you "Fuck him, you deserve fucking better. "I already cannot wait for tomorrow," you laugh, squeezing his hand. It may be that the youngest Ragnarsson is not as bad as his depictions by others suggest, you think to yourself
#ivar the boneless#Ivar x reader#ivar x you#Ivar the Boneless#Ivar the Boneless fluff#Ivar fluff#Ivar the Boneless x reader fluff#Ivar the Boneless fic#Ivar's heathen army#Ivar Ragnarsson#vikings#vikings x reader#vikings fic#vikings fanfiction#vikings fluff#fic recs fluffember#paperpanda fluffember#fluffember 2022
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✮ tags ; gn!reader, sock(?) fetish...? it's like foot fetish adjacent i guess and but she is wearing frilly socks, dirty talk, established relationship, implicit nsfw but nothing happens, 18+
✮ wc ; 1.4k (WTF LOL)
✮ a/n ; don't mind me. going through something. this is miserably self-indulgent but it's ochako so i figured you've guessed that
Ochako would never applaud your subtlety.
If she's playing devils advocate, she'd say that you're not usually trying to be very subtle anyway. Between the two of you, she's the shy one. Most of your firsts have been as a result of your personality - sufficiently anti-social but smug and forthcoming when you need to be.
She was the one to coax you into actually asking her out, since you weren't sure she'd be happy with someone like you. But the confessing and kissing and having sex are all a result of your brusque honesty and inability to keep your thoughts to yourself.
Usually, if there's something you want, you'll just ask her. She'll get on your case out of embarrassment often enough - but she loves you and she loves being praised. If there's some particularly perverted fantasy you want to act out with her, well... she can do it with a little bribing.
You're not much for hints, but you are good at hiding things. Usually. You managed to plan an anniversary trip completely in advance even with her hectic hero schedule which is something to be commended.
But it's rare, in any case, to see you be uncertain about something. It's not like you just stare at her and not say anything. She'll challenge you about that tendency often and you always smirk so sly and say what you think.
She's never really seen you act like this. She doesn't know what to make of it.
She thinks she would've known by now if you had some kind of foot fetish at least.
You've been staring at her legs all day to start with, but she noticed about an hour ago that your eyes kept drifting to her feet. You've had sex enough times for her to know what you like and you've never really shown any special appreciation towards them other than a kiss or rub. It's tender and intimate, but it doesn't feel rooted in the lust of a fetish.
It's the fifth or sixth time in the last hour you've looked over the edge of your laptop screen and traced her legs. It's hard to notice when you've been doing it so often.
"What are you staring so hard at?"
You startle at the confrontation, even though you weren't engrossed in your work. It's subtle, your eyes widening just a touch before going back to the screen unfocused.
"Uh," You sound...awkward. And a little nervous. It's a little unusual for her, since you're a difficult person to truly embarrass. "Nothing really."
She pouts at you. "You're a bad liar. You've looked at me so many times today. At my feet," She says, leaning back on the couch with her legs completely spread. You do it again and look away just as quickly. "Did you gain a foot fetish over night?"
When you don't respond right way, her eyes open wide. She looks at you as you turn your head - suddenly sheepish. "...Did you really?"
You shake your head, trying to find the words to explain. You open your mouth only to close it again, rubbing your temple as if finding the words is stressing you out.
Now she's really confused.
"It's not a foot fetish, necessarily? It has to do with," You swallow something in the back of your throat. "...with what you're wearing. I guess?"
"What I'm wearing?" She looks down her legs and looks at the socks she's wearing - brand new and frilly. All white lace bunched at the cuff and white cotton down to the toes with a little pink bow on the back, She lifts her legs up and points her foot out. "These?"
Your face flushes like a deer caught in headlights and Ochako feels herself jolt in surprise before a smile breaks out on her face. It's hard to hold in her laughter, though she's not laughing at you as much as she is your reaction.
"Don't laugh at me,"
"I'm not, I'm not," She assures, giggling to herself. "It's just... of all the perverted stuff you ask me to do, this is what gets you?"
You cover your face partially with your hand, forcing yourself not to look down or around. "It's a little weird even for me."
She hums. "I don't think it's weird," Slowly, she pulls her knees up close to her chest, arms hugging her legs glancing down at her feet "I'm just not sure what you like about it."
You stare again, at her legs then at her feet. You're a distance away but you scoot in a little closer - your hands reaching out just far enough to touch the frill around the cuff. Your eyes go lidded, pressing the lacy material between your fingers.
"It's pretty." You say first. There's a shift in the air that makes her breath hitch though you haven't said or implied anything lewd at all. Really haven't touched her either, which makes her blush. You have the effect on her, or something. "It's girly and cute and looks nice on you. Plus you have toned legs so it suits you. I like the way they match with your pajamas, too."
The sudden wave of praise makes Ochako shiver. She buries her face in her arms, frowning - skin prickling with heat. "Jeez. You're so simple."
She moves herself. Instead of her seat opposite the couch, she crawls down to where you sit on the floor and pushes the coffee table away from you. Barely glancing at your laptop, she shuts it and sits in front of you instead - occupying the space between you suddenly. You glance at her, surprised, before laugh again.
She leans back on her palms, pulling her legs up and placing both of her socked feet on your chest. Her back is supported only by the sturdy chestnut table she moved out of the way to sit. Your hand rests on her calves - right where her ankle extends. Your thumb rubs the bare skin. Her face grows hotter, air thick with tension.
"You have more to say, right?" A bid for attention. You nod your head. "Then say it,"
"It's kind of dirty," You hum. Ochako can feel her heart rate start to tick up as your hand slides down to be over the tops of her feet. You look down at where she's placed them on your chest so affectionately she can already feel the dull pulse start between her legs. "But I always think about what they look like when they're the last things left on you."
She makes a face at you. You crook your neck to kiss just the outside, right at the toe of her socks. It makes her blush more than she expects and that makes you laugh. Your voice is thick, genuine desire making her want to keen a little. She wants you spoil her, but you already know that.
"Like," You pretend to think, locking eyes with her. She doesn't know if she could get more red, but she feels she does. "If I were to strip you down to everything but these, that'd look really lewd right? It's like that."
"Is that what you want to do?"
You nod at her easily. "Seeing you bent over the side of the couch , on the tips of your toes. Or maybe laying on your stomach with your legs up so I can fuck you more properly. It's a nice image, I thought."
She pouts at you, almost perpetually - shoving a foot against your cheek as she does. You laugh at her as she does.
"You're such a pervert."
"Sorry." Your voice is warm and tender but not really all that apologetic. She huffs, turning your head to one side.
"It can't be helped, then." She says, one eyes closed and cheeky. You laugh at her good-naturedly.
"What a good girl you are, Ochako-chan,"
She feels her heart flutter, positioning herself to sit on her knees so she can kiss you. Her hands support her in front, arms wrapped around your neck as she flutters her lashes. "The best?"
You hum, pressing a hot kiss to her jaw. "The best. Let me see more of you, okay?"
"Okay," She huffs, a little annoyed by how easy she is. "I don't mind keeping the socks on."
"Good girl." You praise again, throaty and just barely thick. "My very good girl."
Ochako doesn't mind your lack of subtlety, she thinks. The throbbing between her legs is enough to prove she likes when you're very, very forward.
#ochako x reader#bnha x reader#this isn't smut really but its nt fluff either fdbfjskd#writing tag#feet cw#i feel insane and this was inevitable
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