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noiryinn · 4 hours

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game over!

pairing(s): nagi seishiro x male reader

summary: when a game of fortnite leads to sex

warnings: amab!reader, top!reader, bottom!nagi, anal sex, crying, begging, riding, belly bulge, edging, overstimulation, reader is kinda mean, slut shaming, (minors + fem aligned dni, all characters aged up)

word count: 1.1k

a/n: first smut, enjoy! (kinda rushed and bad)

you were watching your boyfriend play his video games, as always. it annoyed you a bit, but you saw how happy he was playing them so you never said anything.

“hey, nagi?” you called out to him while laying on his bed. “yeah?” he replied, not even glancing away from his monitor. you really didn’t know what to say, you just called his name to he would pay some attention to you. your sex life has been kinda dry, so you just said the first thing that came to mind.

“if you win that game i’ll give you a blowjob,” you blurted out before quickly regretting it. you couldn’t take it back though, since he turned his head to look at you, “yeah?” nagi seemed to be challenging you. “and if i lose?” he asked. well, you didn’t think this far ahead so you just blurted something out again, “you have to ride me.”

honestly, it didn’t seem like a fair deal, but he took it anyway. “fine, deal.” you blinked in surprise, you never expected him to actually take it, knowing how much he hates doing the work himself. nagi was a pillow princess, there was no doubt. every time he laid there and looked pretty. a part of you really want this, maybe as pay back for the numerous amount of times he always payed attention to games and not you.

…

spoiler alert, he didn’t win the game.

…

“f-fuck! [name]!” the white haired boy whined in a pathetically high pitched voice. his eyes glossed over in pleasure as tears pricked the corner of his eyes. “please— ah…no- no more…” he begged. his moves were sloppy and uncoordinated, drool dribbled down his chin. his face was puffy and it was clear as day that he was wildly embarrassed.

“oh, seishiro…you’re getting sloppy, don’t tell me this is your limit? poor baby, is it nap time already?” you mocked him lightly. you couldn’t help laugh how he became such a overstimulated mess in just a few minutes. a small frown played on his face, “i’m not— agh…done yet!” nagi managed to slip out. “good. then prove it.” you condescendingly smirked at him, now it was your turn to sit and enjoy the show.

you fully took in the sight of your boyfriend. his ears and face flushed a mad red. he looked like he was nearing his limit, but didn’t want to admit it yet. the room echoed with the sounds of skin slapping and moans. you loved the sound of squelching when he sank onto your dick. there was even a outline of where it was on his stomach.

with a huff, he messily picked up his pace, drooling all over himself as he made pitiful attempts to keep up the pace. “is that all you can do?” you sneered, “shut up! i can— ngh…do more!” he made a weak jab to insult you back, but really he could barely think at all.

nagi was so perfect. the way he handled your dick, moaned, his facial expressions, you loved it. his pride made him refuse to admit that he was at his breaking point. you wanted to toy with him a bit, so you put your hands on either side of his hips and pushed him down onto your dick. his toes curled and his back arched in the most erotic way possible as he let out a lewd moan.

nagi’s head threw back and he tried to cover his mouth to stifle his moan when your dick hit his prostate in just the right area. you could feel his cute little hole clench around you. he was swearing up a storm under his breath, breathless ‘fucks’ and ‘shit’ rolled out his mouth as he kept babbling.

“i wanna…come ughh— please” he whined and begged as warm tears of pleasure rolling down his cheeks. “awh, already? but i was just starting to have some fun…” you pouted, “but hold it in, will ya?” you asked him. “i can’t, mnghh…[name] you’re being mean!” he said weakly. “you can’t what? use your words…” you looked at him in his eyes.

he stared at you back with that same frown on his face, it looked like he was choking back words. you waited for him to speak, wondering what he had to say. “i can’t…ride you anymore— ah!” you slammed him down on your dick again, “you’re too big…nghh…” nagi kept rambling on, “you’re— so mean…just fuck me already…please…?” he gave you a pleading look and you sighed. “looks like poor baby can’t ride me anymore. don’t worry, i’ll take it from here” you teased him one last time before switching the position you two were in.

nagi laid on the bed, his face having a fucked out expression, both of his legs wrapped around your waist. you barely gave him a moment to recollect his thoughts when you sharply thrusted into him, knocking the wind out of nagi’s lungs. you pounded deeply into his hole. the sound of his moans sounding almost pornographic.

nagi could barely think, let alone form words. all he could do was just lay there and moan. “you are such a whore for dick, seishiro.” you smirked, he made a desperate attempt to shake his head no, but he was too fucked out to actually do anything. “what a little slut, bet you lost that game on purpose huh?” you whispered in his ear. his only response was a little whimper.

you were surprised when nagi tightened his legs around you, rutting against you for any sort of friction, for you to go deeper. you smiled at this and leaned in to kiss him deeply. he lazily wrapped his arms around your neck. when you two let go to breathe, he whispered something softly in your ear, “mm…[name] i love you…so please, don’t go easy on me, okay…?” in that moment, what kept you from holding back (barely anything), just shattered in that moment.

…

“[name]~ my back hurts” nagi grumbled. you chuckled softly at that, “you were the one who wanted me to go hard, seishiro. don’t make a fuss.” he just responded with a petulant look. you two were on the bed looking at each other, sweaty and breathless. even when nagi was a mess he was beautiful. “you were being mean too…” he complained. “sorry, i couldn’t help it when you were being such a brat…” you remarked.

“ugh…that was such a hassle…i don’t know why we did it…” nagi mumbled while sinking into the bed. “you agreed to the bet!” you groaned, rolling your eyes at his complaint. for an athlete, he was sure unmotivated. “can you wash me? i feel gross…” he asked with puppy-dog eyes. it wasn’t unusual for him to ask you to do things like that. “okay, okay. i’ll carry you.” you sighed, unable to resist his adorable look. though it was a bit of work, you didn't mind doing it for nagi.

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alwayscorvus · 9 hours

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"Petals of love" - Blade as your boyfriend Part 2

Blade x malereader, fluff, soulmate au; requested, Part 1; sorry for the wait but med uni is terrifying sometimes. and thanksss again, that made my day. Hopes its acceptable

Mornings:

In normal work days, when you don't have time to fool around in the shine of a rising sun, you both wake up pretty early.

Blade is an early bird which unfortunately affects you too. He involuntary gets up around 5/6 a.m.

And compared to you, he looks brand-new.

But even when you are sleepy, can hardly open your eyes and all you dream about is to just cuddle into your boyfriend's warm body for a few more hours, Blade shows no mercy.

With a swift motion he gets up from your bed, puts on a nearby shirt, which was hanging on a chair just a minute ago and in a firm voice announces you that it's time to wake up.

Maybe the reason why Blade is so strict is because he's afraid that he'll actually succumb to you and won't get out of your grasp till noon.

And he has a goal. A clearly stated goal. To work hard and successfully complete missions. As many as possible.

And to achieve this, you both need to put yourself together. The earlier the better.

Before just leaving the room, he sticks his finger between your ribs and tells you to not delay.

Still, Blade realizes that your habits are quite different from his. And although he pretends to be demanding, he secretly gives you some blissful extra minutes of sleep. Going to the shared kitchen firstly and leaving you alone.

While you are enjoying your last moments in a soft bed he is already preparing your morning coffee. Black. Strong. This kind that a true warrior should drink. Blade wouldn't allow you to show any weakness.

Or at least that's an official version. When Kafka and Silver aren't looking, he secretly adds a little milk or a pinch of sugar. If that's your preferred version, of course.

When you finally manage to join him, he is already waiting for you with a mug of steaming from heat drink.

By rubbing your eyes you try to fight off last signs of sleepiness.

Thanking, with one hand you receive a gift and with other you grab Blade by waist.

He involuntarily turns his cheek towards you. In order for you to lean over his smaller form and kiss him for a greeting as usual.

Later, when Blade is satisfied, you just lean against the stone countertop.

Your lack of shirt and low-rise sweatpants allow its cold to scratch your back unpleasantly.

You ignore it, however, and ask what your boyfriend is in the mood for.

In this relationship, you are the one responsible for rational eating. If it weren't for you, your "silly" boyfriend would have set off to fight monsters without a breakfast.

And it is obviously impossible to conquer world on an empty stomach.

When he is/you are sick

In this relationship, it is mainly you who take care of his health and try to introduce his life to healthy habits.

Blade is a big and smart boy. He knows that he has to take care of himself if he wants to perform well. But unfortunately, he often forgets that. Or sometimes, worse. He thinks that he deserves a little more pain and suffering.

Hearing this makes you want to punch him for the mere thought of such a thing, and everyone else who in the past led to his present state.

However, you know that currently you can't do anything about it. So you act here and now, by looking after his health and well-being for him.

When he is sick, you literally have to keep him in bed by force. So he doesn't run off to train. And even though he is wrecked by fever, Blade in his “weakened” state is still very strong. After giving him pills and plenty of water, you end up locking him in a tight hug.

Then you sleep for hours. Cuddled together in a bed. Blade is covered with extra thick layers of fluffy duvet to warm up his body.

You stay awake the whole time, never letting him out of your sight. And every now and then you sooth his burning forehead with kisses.

Meanwhile, when you get sick… Blade becomes oddly protective and possessive. He doesn't let anyone into your bedroom. Only he can take care of you, and only he knows how to do it. He prepares cold bandages for you. And what's even more shocking, cooks a ramen. You wouldn't suspect him of having a great culinary talent. But you've never eaten anything better in your life. Maybe because you know it was made by your lover. Or maybe it's because Blade really put an effort into preparing it.

If that weren't enough, Blade demands for you to sit still while he feeds you with his soup. Cooling each spoon beforehand.

What he does for you/Massages

During training, Blade doesn't give you a break. So he can understand when you're tired and everything hurts you afterwards.

He is already used to them, he even likes it at some point. By them he feels alive.

You, however, are something else. He knows it.

Blade has only you. You are the only one that really matters to him. So he has to take care of you.

It is for these reasons why after every difficult training or mission, Blade offers you a massage. Whether it's your back, shoulders or ankles. He always does it in silence and great concentration, with hidden love and great care.

To do this, he uses his own handmade oil. Made from rose petals.

He dips his soft, bony hands into an oily liquid and kneads your sore body in a slow, steady motion. Towards the end, he gently brushes and strokes your skin to prolong your pleasure. Silently thanking himself for protecting his hands under bandages and gloves every day. Thanks to that, despite his constant weapon gripping, his fingertips aren't rough.

When he wears your clothes

Apparently, this is something that couples do. It is also said that your partner looks adorable in your clothes, especially when they are too loose for him. When your shirt reaches halfway down his thighs, almost resembling a dress.

Blade doesn't understand this idea. It's weird, strange.

What's more, Blade doesn't feel the need to “steal” your clothes because he just doesn't like your style. Not that he doesn't find it good-looking. Indeed, you look attractive in things you wear. (from an objective point of view, of course. Blade would never get fooled by your handsome face)

Despite this, however, Blade is a very simple man. That's why, when his part of closet is in a laundry, he suddenly needs to throw something on himself and in his reach he has only your dark sweatshirt or blood maroon shirt, he doesn't think twice.

Second option greatly highlights his good features and depth of eyes. It's really hard for you keep still.

If we are already on subject of clothes... Quick mention about matching clothes. You know Blade enough to know that there is nothing more stupid than suggesting this idea to him. You prefer to keep remnants of dignity in his eyes. You're also no longer a teenager to get excited by such things. But this cultural tradition in some parts of world captivates you. And you want to mark your possessiveness a bit. That's why you've changed the color theme of your closet to match your other half. Dark, black colors with ruby and emerald accents.

Blade never pays attention to this. But Kafka, seeing this, smiles softly to herself.

How he calls you/nicknames

It's probably obvious that Blade wouldn't use any adorable nicknames in a relationship.

The only thing that you can hope for is your name and in the future... maybe a straight "fiance" or "husband".

You can use whatever you simply prefer at a time. As long as it's not "too cute". For "honey bun" and names like that you could expect a dagger in your guts.

You often use a classic "babe" "love" orrr... "hubby".

Holidays and valentine

Blade isn't a person who would celebrate any holidays, especially commercial ones. Sure, he may show respect to deceased ancestors or something like that. But he's not going to decorate a Christmas tree with you, start baking gingerbread houses, light lanterns, or give you any gifts related to valentines day. He's just not the type. Besides, Blade has no time for that.

You respect that. But on such days, you still give him some small gift straight from a heart.

When he has a nightmare

Unfortunately, this happens pretty often. Blade can't get any sleep at night. He regularly gets up even before sunrise, and goes to bed around midnight, if not later. You tried to change that, but no matter what you did it was completely pointless.

Even when you went to bed earlier together, Blade couldn't fall asleep. Despite your "magical" embrace, nothing helped at those moments.

Maybe it was the darkness. Thought about what lurks in the shadows. Past and future. All of Blade's victims. These whose lives he took. And these who were preparing a revenge.

Threat not only to him alone, but to you as well.

Memories wouldn't let him shut his eyes. And even when he finally did manage to fall asleep, he would wake up screaming during the night.

Blade would rise rapidly to a sitting position. And worried you, did exactly the same.

He was breathing heavily. His forehead was covered in sweat. He stared dully at the wall in front of him. As if seeing something in it that you couldn't.

His suffering was killing you. But all you could do at such moments was whisper to him quietly, "Everything will be fine. I'm here. You are not alone. I will never leave you. You are safe with me" and make a slow circles on his back, waiting until his breathing would normalize.

Such situations happened quite often. Especially at the beginning of your relationship. Over time, however, they were less and less frequent.

Presence of a soulmate nearby, healed Blade's wounds slowly.

When you ignore him

Don't. Even. Think. About it. That would make him feel so uneasy. He would start doubting himself. And the idea of him being not enough for you could break him.

You know in fact how fragile his ego is. So even in the hardest moments, when you're fed up or tired, you remember to give him at least a little attention.

His way of being clingy

This definitely doesn't happen often. Especially in Blade's case. But there are times when he seeks your attention. He misses the warmth of another person. Especially after being left thirsty for many years. And soulmate bond also does its job.

At such moments Blade doesn't leave your side. When you get up from a couch he gets up with you. When you go to the kitchen he goes with you. You don't even have a second for yourself. He is like a shadow. He is able to follow you even to the bathroom. It's a good thing that after a years of relationship, a shower in his company is no more a problem for you.

Blade doesn't say anything, doesn't touch you and doesn't take the lead.

He just takes a seat next to you and waits for you to finally figure it out. Embrace him or put a hand on his thigh. Only then does he feel satisfied and stops " following" you.

In heath of a fight

This was one of those missions when Blade just had to do everything on his own way.

He made plan in his head and just had to fulfil it.

Of course, without consulting you beforehand, or even notifying.

Seeing a threat surrounding Blade from all sides, you were beyond panicked. You started screaming. That he should stop. That he should look out.

You even begged for a signal to retreat.

However, Blade in heat of a battle turned completely deaf to this. Only when he felt a piercing pain in his chest only then he stopped.

He came to his senses. Pushed back opponents that were rushing at him and hurriedly looked at his body. Aside from a blood of his enemies and standard "minor" injuries, he saw nothing suspicious there. At least not a huge hole in his heart which he had just felt.

Urged by a sudden realization, he looked around. And to his horror, he saw something that he definitely didn't want to see. You, protecting his back.

But you were supposed to stay behind. And not take part in it. That precisely how his plan sounded. That way he wouldn't have to constantly look for you and control safety of his other half. By that, he could completely lose himself into a fight and use his 100%. Spreading a total destruction.

However, it didn't occur to him that such turn of events would put him in a great danger.

As it was proven by your arm, pierced straight through.

It was only by this sight that the seriousness of your situation hit him. And he immediately took you out from that massacre you both were in.

You found shelter in some warehouse. Somewhere behind a pile of boxes.

You were sitting on the ground, resting your head heavily against a cold concrete wall. While Blade was between your legs, hugging you tightly. Or rather, you were the one squeezing him with all your strength. Making sure he was all right.

Blade didn't realize it, but if it hadn't been for you, just a few minutes ago, he would now be lying on a battlefield having wounds on all sides. You really had to work hard to prevent anything more serious from happening to him. Your hot-headed boy, definitely miscalculated the backup that came to support your enemies.

You didn't say anything. You didn't even have a strength to argue with him or point out stupidity of his plan. It was pointless. Anyway, you were just happy that he was right there with you. Safe.

You couldn't stop thinking, however, about this possibility that something bad could happen to him. That if you had reacted even a few seconds later. That if it hadn't been for your arm. Blade might have just had his lungs stabbed through… That drove you to pure convulsions.

-Can you… stop? - Blade asked somewhat unsurely but still in scolding voice.

And you turned your gaze to him, filled with confusion.

-I can feel your stress in my chest an it's… not comfotable at all - this time he said that far more confident and sharp.

You, after a moment of realization, laughed lightly. You forgot that some strong emotions can really effect your soulmate.

-I'm right there with you and I'm perfectly fine so stop worrying about me. Better worry about yourself. You are the one with a big hole here.

-I'm sorry love, I'm just really glad that you are safe - you said kissing him on a forehead.

He only blushed slightly and snuggled more into a crook of your neck.

He truly felt safe.

#fanfic #fanfiction #scenarios #tmr #x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail imagines #hsr #hsr x male reader #x male reader #hsr blade #blade x male reader #blade x reader #hsr x top male reader #x top male reader #hsr x reader

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kunazz · 1 day

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Hshshdhd i want to eat out leon soo bad. Im gonna eat his pussy till he possibly cant cum anymore. All night all day. Everytime he got back home from a rough shift, im just gonna buried my face between his leg until dawn. Eat him like my Last and only meal. 🙏🙏🗣️

You’d literally live between his thighs and he’d love it so much. He can’t stop cumming whenever your tongue lands on his pussy, he’s so so sensitive.

#kunazz asks #male reader #male y/n #top male reader #x male reader #x top male reader #leon kennedy x male reader #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon smut

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gaywerewolfwithanxiety · 1 month

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Corrupting a "naive" himbo

NSFW WORK

Imagine a dumb himbo with huge ass and tits. The way they jiggle when he moves catches the attention of everyone. Especially yours. You are his superior and moreover you are married with 2 kids but you still couldn't control yourself around him. Him being so naive didn't even know what he was doing to you.

After a office party, he ended up with the responsibility of making sure your drunken self reaches home safe. When he carries you to your bedroom, you grab his tie and push him towards your bed landing on top of him.

"s-sir what are y-you doing" he cried out but you have already decided to fuck him senseless in the same bed in which you slept with your partner. But turns out he is a huge slut for you, spreading his legs without hesitation with you ordered him to.

You came about 5 or 6 times that night, but you still continued to fuck him like the slut he is. Even spanking him and playing with his red erect nipples.

The next morning, when you go to work, he pushes you into a office cubicle and goes down to his knees and begs for your cock.

#dom male reader #x top male reader #drabbles #gay imagines #x male reader #sub male character

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thegnomelord · 2 months

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Good Dog

CW: NSFW, DARK-FIC, murder, gore, power imbalance, size difference(reader's bigger), description of torture and brainwashing, oral, anal, blood as lube, plot and exposition with porn, pet play(collars and leashes), toxic relationship, dub-con, very very self indulgent.

Моя гончая- my hound, Хороший солдат - good soldier, Расслабьтесь, братья мои - relax, my brothers, приносить - fetch, есть - eat

The thick door and walls of the private room do nothing to damped the bass of the club pounding in his ears, the annoying music made bearable by the high of a recent victory. Puffs of cigarette smoke lazily curl in the air as Makarov leans further back into the couch, the buzzing sting of a fresh tattoo helping him relax. The scent of expensive liquor only adds to the heady atmosphere, crystal clear vodka swirling in his glass before Makarov takes a sip. His dark eyes peer over the rim of his glass, like doorways to a dark abyss, his gaze dancing across the faces of his most trusted men before settling on the lieutenant's as the man tries to prove his worth with pointless words.

Above all else, Makarov values loyalty.

It doesn't matter how strong a man is if he can't follow orders. The number of soldiers he can lead is pointless when he can't keep his men alive. How well he can shoot is meaningless when he can't devote himself to a cause. A man who is disloyal is a man of single use.

Makarov doesn't even try to listen to whatever drivel the lieutenant's spouting, he doesn't see a reason to sour his mood when he already knows everything: the embezzling, the lying, the adorable double agent act. He has you to thank for that, you'd sniffed the lieutenant out the second you met him, diligently uncovering every speck of dirt the lieutenant had attempted to hide from Makarov.

And you? You are very loyal. His loyal hound.

His fingers curl around the leash, the smooth black leather sliding against his calloused palms. A barely there tug is all it takes for you to lean down over the back of the couch, bracing one large hand near his head for support as the other remains over the grip of your sidearm. You loom over him, and while Makarov may be a fearsome man, he can't deny the type of foreboding fear a goliath like you inspires — a towering figure always a step behind him, broad body big enough to easily cover him fully if you need to take a bullet for him, arms strong and palms wide to easily crack a man's skull.

Settling the glass down he takes another drag of his cigarette, "Hound," Another tug — sharper, harsher; such a small correction yet the fact you needed it at all has acrid disappointment burning on your tongue — makes you bend down more, your face now next to his. He doesn't draw attention to the reprimand, breathing out a puff of smoke near your face. "Were you listening, моя гончая?"

It's a pointless question, he knows you were listening, he trained you to. But he asks because he loves to see the way your eyes darken, jaw tight. The cigarette smoke dances in the air, making the club's low lights reflect off the sharp spikes adorning the thick collar snuggly wrapped around your throat. Your day collar suits you well, no different than the spiked collars put on hunting hounds.

"Yes sir." You answer, your attention now solely on the lieutenant.

Makarov hums, eyes flickering from the lieutenant to you. "And?" He chuckles and lets the leash go, his word keeping you in place as he casually pats your neck. "What did you hear?"

"Lies. . ." The slow slide of his fingers across the uncovered parts of your throat makes your breath stutter, static crackling beneath your skin. "I heard lies, sir." Your answer causes the lieutenant to try and sputter excuses and denials, all cut short by the harsh look you give him.

Makarov chuckles, hooking a finger over the silver loop at the front of your collar, pulling on it and tilting his head so his lips can ghost across your jaw. "Хороший солдат." Makarov murmurs. His stubble scratches your skin as his lips brush a path to your ear, so very close to a lover's kiss.

But a brush of skin is all it is. Nothing more. Your body earns for more, to turn your head and experience the bruising possessiveness of his kiss once again, to feel his teeth bite down on your lip until blood floods both of your mouths. But you don't move; A spoiled dog isn't loyal and Makarov won't lavish you with attention for nothing. no — you must earn it.

"Stay." The soft 'click' of the leash unclipping sounds the same as a sentencing gavel, the strip of leather falling away until only his word keeps you from tearing the lieutenant's throat out with your teeth. Makarov smirks against your skin, his words honey sweet to your ears as he whispers: "Sick him."

That seals the ex-lieutenant's fate.

You're on the lieutenant in an instant, crashing into him like a truck. Makarov leans back and lights up another cigarette as you stomp down on the man's leg, all the weight you carry around bearing down on his bones until they break, erasing any foolish thoughts of escape when you snap the bones of his other ankle; Makarov has truly taught you well.

The screams of a traitor are much better than the atrocious club music, letting him enjoy the smooth burn of the vodka as another stomp breaks a couple of ribs. Some of his men are still nervous around you, trying not to shuffle in their seats lest they grab your attention and become the new outlet of your violence.

"Расслабьтесь, братья мои." Makarov gives a charming smile, resting his ankle on his knee as he takes another drag. "Hound is well trained, you have nothing to fear." He chuckles, lazily watching you as he holds conversation with his lieutenants. Honestly, you're like a dog with a new toy, tossing the man around and pinning him down under your heavy body, each swing of your fists steadily turning the ex-lieutenant's face into pulp.

It's as entertaining for him as it is therapeutic for you.

And to think Price had tried to suppress all that beautiful savageness you possessed.

Makarov remembers how you'd been nothing but a snarling and cursing ball of anger when his men had captured you after a botched mission. He had been both annoyed and amused by how loyal you were to Price, weathering every beating and starving and humiliation with the same 'fuck you' response, baring your teeth like the cornered dog you were. With days turning to months and your resolve refusing to waver under their 'care' Makarov had considered just putting you down, sending a nice video of blowing your skull open to Price but oh — is he glad he decided to indulge in the game your stubbornness presented.

He set out to train you like he would any mongrel mutt, clear expectations making it easy to tell whether your actions would get you a reward or an even worse punishment, giving small rewards for the behavior he wanted; not snarling at him might earn you a better meal. Biting your lip and taking your beating without back talk could get you a couple of minutes outside the claustrophobic walls of your cell. Letting him touch and inspect your body without complaint might reward you with a book or some other little creature comfort he could, and did, easily take away the moment you stepped out of line.

Of course you were weary, perceptive enough to know when he was scheming. But every man has his limits, yours were simply reached when he handed you official C.I.A documents proclaiming you as K.I.A, the mission itself creatively rewritten to sound like you had gone and deserted to the enemy — no one was looking for you, no one was coming to save you, your captain, Price, wasn't coming to save you.

He had taken great enjoyment in running his fingers across your scalp as you clutched the documents in a white knuckled grip, your mind far too worn down to question or guard against the soft touches. His lips had brushed against your ear, soothingly raspy voice comforting you — you're a good soldier, strong, reliable, everything a commander could dream of. It wasn't your fault you trusted the wrong man, truly, what a shame to have your loyalty repaid with betrayed like that.

After that, it became laughably easy to train you. He stuck with simple commands, spoken only in Russian so he could amuse himself with the way your head would tilt before you'd perk up, recognition making your dull eyes brighten before you did what he wanted in exchange for a small scrap of his affection, learning to seek his praise and appreciate his touch even when your body still prickled with disgust. So when he handed you the knife, standing so close you could have easily slit his throat, and ordered you to kill another member of your previous taskforce, you hadn't hesitated for a second. "Good boy." He had purred, caressing your jaw as he used his thumb to wipe away the blood staining your cheek.

"Hound." His voice is as effective as any physical tug on your leash, making you stop mid punch with your fist inches away from the ex-lieutenant's caved in face. You're covered in blood, the rich crimson bringing out the violence swirling in your eyes.

Yet you look at him with utter adoration he wants to shove his cock deep down your throat just so he can see your tears smudge the blood on your cheeks. "Приносить." He taps his thigh.

You nod your head, grabbing the knife strapped to your thigh. There's no hesitation in your movements as you shove the knife into the ex-lieutenant's throat. An arc of blood spurts across your front when you yank it out just to stab another spot, the man coughing and choking as you cut through cartilage and muscle until with a good yank and a sickening 'crack!' you separate the head from the body.

Makarov had never seen the appeal of large hulking brutes until you — your body had filled back out with muscle and fat nicely after you became his, towering body demanding attention simply by existing as you stand up. The loud stomp of your feet and the blood staining your body making you look like a barbarian, casting a shadow over him before you kneel at his feet, offering the decapitated head as a knight does to his king.

Oh yes, he definitely sees the appeal now.

"Good dog." He purrs, reaching out to stroke your jaw, smearing some of the blood with his thumb. Fingers sliding down to hook on the silver ring on your collar he pulls your head closer. "Do you think you earned a reward?"

It's a test. One you're intimately familiar with. The judgmental stares of Makarov's trusted men are the last thing in your mind when the closeness of his body and the sharp crisp scent of his cologne threatens to shatter your resolve. "Only if you permit it, sir." Your throat feels dry, trying not to show how eager you are for his attention as you place the head on the floor so you don't get a drop of blood on him.

Makarov smirks, "Smart dog," His hands move to the back of your neck, unbuckling the collar. You're no longer ashamed to admit you feel naked as the thick piece of leather is pulled away; the time when you didn't have a collar wrapped around your neck feel like a distant memory and now the sensation of breathing without it pressing against your skin is disturbing. You have to bite your lip to keep the low whine from escaping your chest.

His hand wraps securely around your throat, bringing your breath back to you. Your Adam's apple bobs beneath his fingers as he traces the 'V.M' shallowly carved across your throat. "It's already starting to fade." He tuts, squeezing his fingers to restrict your breathing just the slightest bit more. "We'll need to have it tattooed. That would be nice, yes?"

You suck in a sharp breath, "Yes sir."

"Хороший солдат." He purrs. He pulls out another collar from his pocket and you feel yourself chub up in your pants just at the sight of it. It's the chained pronged one he uses exclusively when he wants you to pleasure him, particularly because it leaves such pretty bruises along your skin when he tugs on the leash.

You eagerly tilt your head back to bare your throat, a shudder rushing down your spine as soon as you feel the cold metal against your skin. You stay perfectly still as he secures around your neck, the sharp pull of the leash making the prongs dig into your skin, prickles of pain making you even harder. "Go on," Makarov hums, spreading his legs wider so your attention falls to the hard bulge in his slacks, his belt undone but the rest left to you. "есть."

You don't think you could enjoy servicing him as much as you did if he didn't let you work for it, the reward made sweeter because you earned it. Truly, he's so good to you, you'd thank him profusely but he hasn't given you permission to speak freely. So you lean in, careful not to get blood on his pants as you take the metal zipper between your teeth and pull it down. You've done this enough not to have any problems undoing the button, your hands obediently planted on your thighs and your gaze firmly on him so you can see the pleased smirk that spreads across his features when you bite the band of his boxers and pull them down until his cock springs out, already hard.

A pleased sigh escapes him when your warm lips wrap around the head of his cock, the leash wrapped firmly around his hand and the slightest tug on it has pain prickling down your spine. "Моя гончая, don't waste my time." You can't help but whine lowly at the admonishment, quickly trying to make up to him by sucking on the tip and licking the slit in just the way he likes it.

His leg shifts, hard boot coming up to grind the sole against your clothed cock. "That's better." The praise makes you moan deep from your chest and try to take more of his cock into your mouth, your boxers wet and sticky against your own cock as you give an experimental hump of your hips against his boot. You scrape your teeth along the vein on the underside of his cock and it earns you a rough grind of his boot. His hand tangles in your bloodied hair and pulls you down until his cock bumps the back of your throat.

You nearly choke from the sudden pressure, trying to fight off the reflex to pull back and gag. "Look at me." His order rings clear in your head, your eyes meeting his as he grinds your nose into his pubic hair, tears prickling the corners of your eyes as your lungs start to burn. You fight through it, the fluttering of your throat making him five a small, rough, moan and fuck — you're hard as a rock.

Just as you feel like you'll pass out on his cock he lets you off, yanking your head back. You're only given a few seconds to take a sharp breath of fresh air before he pushes your head back down. You're prepared this time, hollowing your cheeks and relaxing your throat, swallowing around his hard cock. The way you suck Makarov off is wet and sloppy, stealing ragged breaths when you can as you trace the veins of his cock with your tongue and gently nibble on the base when his cock's fully sheathed in your throat, knowing exactly how to please him. Your efforts are rewarded with the salty taste of precum on your tongue, hearing him occasionally mutter his praises in Russian, none of his words snagging on your mind like sharp orders so you let yourself drift in the pleasure of servicing him, subconsciously grinding your cock into his foot.

But you're not mentally gone enough not to notice the squeaking of chairs, your body tensing as you pull up enough so only his head remains in your mouth, your head turned just enough to throw a sharp glare at the other men in the room. Makarov having his guard down like this makes you tense, violence buzzing beneath your skin from the ingrained need to protect him.

"Hound." Makarov's growl is followed by another sharp tug of the leash, the dull ache of the metal prongs digging into your skin dissipating some of your aggression. "Did I tell you to stop?"

You shake your head as best you can, a pathetic whine escaping your chest from the way the pain makes your cock even harder. Satisfied, he eases the leash, letting you return to your work. His head lolls back, lazily looking at his men. He couldn't care less who sees you like this, but now he wants your full attention on him. "Leave." He gives the simple command.

You track the sound of shuffling feet as you take him fully into your mouth, making him hiss a curse under his breath. Nuzzling your nose into his curly pubic hair you breathe in his musk, his heel grinding firmly and consistently against your hard cock, pleasure pulsing through your veins with such intensity you're worried you'll cum without permission, low whines escaping your throat.

He pulls you off him suddenly, your lungs burning as you gasp for air. You expect him to paint your face with his cum, stake an obvious ownership over you. But he doesn't, pulling you by the leash and leaning down to mash your lips together, teeth biting down on your lip until it bleeds.

Makarov's kisses are rough and demanding, the sweet drug your body's been craving, teeth clicking together and tongues swirling in each other's mouths. The firm grind of his boot against your crotch makes you moan lowly, a sound he happily swallows down and nearly shoves his tongue down your throat. You part far too soon, your body craving much much more, but he doesn't let you stew in the disappointment of a short kiss — it's an owner's responsibility to spoil his pet — mumbling against your lips. "Prepare me."

A full shudder runs down your spine and you surge to follow his order. Makarov loves the determined look you get in your eye just as much as he loves the rough way you grip his hips and hike them up so you can pull his pants and boxers down his legs. Your bloodied fingers grip his hips and pull them down until his ass hangs off the edge of the couch, throwing his legs over your shoulders and he can feel the muscles deep in his back strain as you nearly bend him in half, his hard cock and hole bared for you.

It's a vulnerable position, trapped between your bulky frame and the couch he has no way to escape. And if anyone else were to attempt this he would feed every inch of their flesh to themselves. But Makarov relishes the knowledge that he's in control, a single word from him would make you stop regardless of how hard and wanting you were, your loyalty to him as real as the dead man's blood you dip your fingers in to lube them.

Your fingers circle his hole before you press the pad of your finger against it. Without the heat of battle the cold viscousness of the blood feels disgusting, making him shiver and his rim flutter against your digit. But the discomfort is easily forgotten when you apply pressure, the steady and persistent way you push your finger in forcing his muscles to yield. "Shit-" Makarov clenches his teeth; your fingers are so large just one feels like two of his own, the gnawing pain of your finger pushing deeper just amplifying the pleasure of being stretched open and your other hand loosely stroking his wet cock.

You don't go slower than you need to, perfectly trained to know how to move your fingers to keep him teetering on the edge between pleasure and pain, each shift and slow drag of your finger pulling deep grunt and soft breaths from between his clenched teeth. "Yes, there you go." His praise makes your heart melt and cock throb in your pants, the pull of the leash bringing your lips together in another harsh kiss. You swallow his moans greedily, pushing a second finger in and curling them in search of his prostate, your thumb incessantly rubbing the space between his balls and ass to trap the spongy flesh between your fingers.

He nearly chokes you with how hard he yanks on the leash, hips pushing back into your hand and walls clenching down on your fingers. The stinging ache of being stretched open mixes with the building pleasure, leaving his skin feeling like a live wire. His teeth dig into your lip until it bleeds again, heels digging into your back. He grinds his hips down on your fingers, muttering praises against your lips as you push a third finger in and force him to take it.

He can't wait any more, gripping your hair and roughly yanking your head back. "Fuck me already." He growls, licking the blood staining your cheek.

You scramble to do as you're told, continuing to stretch him open as you undo your belt and pants with one hand, your hard cock bobbing against your abdomen. Pulling your fingers out you scoop up more blood, the cold helping reign in your lust as you lube up.

Before you can do anything he reaches out to grip the base of your cock, his hold firm and just at the cusp of pain. "You'll be good, yes?" He growls against your lips. "Fuck me good and hard?" His hand moves, stroking you slowly, evenly coating the blood along your cock. "I don't need to show you how to use this thing again, do I?" There's a dangerous edge in his voice.

Fear shoots down your spine, mouth going dry. You'd been too eager for human touch when he first let you mount him, and when you came seconds after getting inside him he'd been less than pleased by your abilities. You couldn't feel your cock for a full week after he'd tied you down and used your cock until you couldn't cum, using a cock ring to keep you hard and using you until he was satisfied.

You quickly shake your head. "No sir," You choke out and bare your throat. "I can do it, I'll be good." You promise.

His hold loosens, tugging you by the hair so he can peck your lips, his tongue licking over the small wound he'd made. "Don't fail me now."

You steel yourself like you're going to war, pressing your cockhead to his hole. Your nails dig into his hip, your grip ironclad to keep him still as you pull him down more and simultaneously push in. There's a second of resistance before your head pops in, the pleasure of entering his velvet soft insides being met with sharp pain as his teeth chomp down on your shoulder through your shirt. It all mixes in your brain into pure bliss, your hips bucking up into him automatically until you're bottomed out. You hold him close to you and leisurely grind your hips, letting him get used to the mind numbing stretch.

Fuck— Makarov may see the appeal of brutes but impaled on your cock he feels like he's being split in two, lungs burning and he can almost swear your tip's poking his diaphragm. He chases the pain more than the pleasure, heels digging into your back to give him some leverage so he can push his hips into yours. "Yes," His head lolls back when you slowly withdraw, only to suddenly snap your hips and hilt yourself inside him again. "-fuck, yes!"

The blood keeps you from tearing him apart but there's too little of it to keep him from feeling the painful stretch, the slow movement of your hips making his thighs shake. "Harder," He demands, yanking on your leash and biting your shoulder again. "Make me feel it." His voice is rough with a demand, because men like him never beg.

"Yes sir," You manage, bracing your feet and setting a rough pace, rutting into him like an animal. He muffles his sounds into your shoulder as your cock saws into him, his walls fluttering and clenching around you so tightly it feels like he'll snap your cock off. You do your best to focus on him and his pleasure, but the tight heat of his hole is rapidly melting any control you have, your cock throbbing and leaking precum inside him.

"Sir, please-" You whine, your muscles tight and your balls feeling so full you feel like you'll burst, your voice full of need. "I'm so close."

“Not yet.” He growls, pushing his hips down to meet your thrusts, your hand stroking his cock. “Make me cum first.” He growls.

You hold back a pathetic whine and redouble your efforts, your rough thrusts bruising his ass as you fuck into him, aiming to nail his prostate every time you bottom out. He wails, whole body shaking, his cock throbbing in your hand and leaking a puddle of precum on his stomach.

Makarov cums without any warning, going rigid and biting your shoulder even harder as pearly cum shoots from his tip, his walls clamping down on your cock. "C- cum!" He snarls, voice muffled, and it's all you need. Bottoming out fully you moan as you shoot his insides full of your cum, rocking your hips and grinding your cock against his prostate to prolong both of our highs.

You hold him close as you come down to reality but the way his walls clench around your cock makes you feel like heaven. His hands grip your jaw, bringing you down into a disorganized sloppy kiss. He's boneless in your arms, his walls continuing to flutter around you. "That was good." He slurs, chest rising and falling as he tries to catch his breath. "Good dog."

The tug of the leash is expected and Makarov kisses the corner of your lips, tongue swiping across your skin to lick up more of the blood staining your lips. "Clean me up." He orders, "Lick up your mess." He growls, and there's not a single part of you that would refuse him.

Tag list: @lieutnt, @pastelclovds @thee-great-enigma @vladimirking24

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privitivium · 3 months

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will never get over a big intimidating looking guy being a submissive little bitch who takes ur dick like a fucking champ and ughhghh

lowkey wrote w/ polnareff in mind,, i wanna write smth more for him hrmrm

you caught ur lover after coming home early by chance - catching him in the mirror while admiring himself in a simple white set of lacey lingerie. he jumps several feet in the air after seeing a glimpse you in the full body mirror while trying to check himself out - swinging his body around ( giving a full view of his assets ,, ) and looking over at you with an embarrassed look. he panics, covering his chest and crotch with his hands - barely covering anything really, in attempts to conceal himself from you. from then on, you could not get enough of seeing him in such clothing - taking extra care of him and making sure he feels as pretty as he looks by sucking his dick while fiddling with the elastics of his thong that barely concealed anything and fucking him in the mirror or even pressed up against the cold reflector,, ur happy to clean up the mess of him :3

constantly daydreaming of him sitting on your face while wearing a pretty sheer lace nightgown or merely bouncing himself on ur cock while holding his tits in his arms that you would quickly pull away and grope his boobs lazily - tweaking his nipples until he was a sensitive mess that was trembling and pulsating around you so good,, hngn

"i don't want to ruin it,," you tell him, heaving breaths escaping your saliva-glossed lips as you stare down at him with furrowed eyebrows - utmost serious. you didn't want to taint his pretty clothes with your bodily fluids right off the bat.. ultimately cumming when he begs you with a whimper of, "i want you to ruin me." i mean, a little embarrassing, but who can blame you?? he was literally fisting your spit lathered cock and sucking at the tip - who can ignore and even force down the feeling of ur lower organs coiling up so fucking good?? god he looks so pretty,,

ㅡ"look at you.. it's a lil pathetic, no??" you hover the handheld mirror over his face - his eyes widening before quickly faltering as his ecpression contorts as if he was about to sob, "but at least you look so cute.." you console gently, a slight lilt of taunting to your tone as you drag your fingertips over the apple of his cheek; collecting the tears of sexual frustration and bringing them to his lips and using them as a lipgloss before capturing them in a sloppy kiss while nestled deep inside him. moaning into your mouth desperately as he weakly tries to wrap his thick, muscular arms around your body as to keep you in his chest,, gritting out a tearful, ".. i am cute.. th-the fucking cutest.." before muttering something more along those lines - simply babbling incoherently as you draw out orgasm after orgasm and ruining his pretty sleepwear,,

#ocs =͟͟͞͞★#jojo =͟͟͞͞★#dom male reader #top male reader #x top male reader #x dom male reader #jean pierre polnareff x male reader #polnareff x male reader #jjba x male reader #male reader #x male reader

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2kiran · 1 month

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MULTI MEN 香菸 ── `` bottom char. top reader. cockwarming. thighjob.

everyone knows how fun it is to watch your partner squirm and clench around your dick as they try their hardest to sit still and simply cockwarm you.

but what about their thighs warming you instead? think about this; you’re laying down with them carefully resting on your stomach, your cock in between their thighs. they’re using every ounce of self-control to not touch your tip that just happens to leak pre-cum. you wouldn’t be mad if they tapped at your slit, right?

and you seriously can’t believe that they won’t squeeze their legs around your dick, because they will. they would rub their soft thighs along your shaft, enticing you to fuck them already.

masterlist

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narcissistshandler · 8 months

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𝗣𝗟𝗘𝗔𝗦𝗘, 𝗕𝗘 𝗦𝗜𝗟𝗘𝗡𝗧

and here we go again in more smuts I write in 40 minutes randomly overnight. the choso part in the trailer keeps popping up for me all over my social media, so that's for everyone who has this man as husband! top!amab! reader and bottom!choso below. this was written to be read as gn, so if anything is wrong please let me know!

Choso always made the cutest sounds during sex. He was a very domestic and simple man, most of the time he would ask you in a soft voice to turn off the lights before continuing what you were doing, (even though you two knew the darkness of the room did little to hide the flush in his face, his open mouth in an involuntary movement or how his cock twitched at the smallest of compliments). He usually liked looking at your face during sex and blushed like a virgin when you tried anything in daylight. And after one of the neighbors complained about the noise, Choso not only started to avoid them, he also started to have a habit that you hated:

He started trying to be as quiet as possible in bed.

You weren't happy about it. It was hard to actually hear any of the moans or whimpers your husband made when you fucked him exactly like he had wanted all day during which he tried to show you with the eyes - it was never a difficult task, considering you were always itching to have him under you, anytime.

What sounded like a snarl reached your ears, muffled by the pillow Choso was hugging to his face, your pillow.

Your fingers dug into his lean hips, ring sunk into his skin in a way that should hurt and thumbs pressing hard over the knobby bones you pulled him back against you with each thrust, so hard that every time your thighs and his ass met, the twinge of pain shot through your senses.

In the low light, his long hair blended into the darkness and your shadow fell over his torso. You two were completely naked, skin to skin, and even condom use had been discarded when you entered into a relationship.

You liked having him like this, with no barriers between you, raw and messy and wet. Choso liked it too, as much as he never said it out loud, you knew.

He also liked it when you came inside him. It left him feeling used and dirty and belonging to you. It was another one of those things that would be hard to get him to admit, but that was okay too.

"I am close." Your voice filled the stuffy air in the room.

All the windows were closed and the curtains drawn, both the front door and the bedroom door were locked, making it difficult for air to circulate. The idea of getting caught during sex by anyone was mortifying to Choso to the point where he didn't even like you using the scenario as dirty talk.

Big brother thing, you concluded, even if today only you and choso were home.

Choso's knuckles turned white where he gripped the pillow, so hard that the ripping sound rang out, the golden band of the wedding ring shining even in the dark on his finger. His hole tightened around you, helping the boiling sensation of pleasure just build in your stomach.

Your hips reacted on their own, shooting forward, back into your husband's relaxed, wet hole.

"Where should I come?" you questioned, wheezing occasionally interrupting your speech. "Should I take it off?"

It was a mere tease, as you knew how possessive Choso was when it came to your cum, he hated it being wasted, but in his delusional pleasure mind, that should have sounded more like an threat.

He seemed to mutter an irritated reply that was once again muffled by the pillow.

"I can't understand what you're talking, darling," you said as you started to back away, leaving Choso's warmth. You had to fight the immediate urge to just shove back in him and fuck him until you came.

The response was immediate, Choso's hole tightening so hard it looked like it wanted to suck your cock. He pushed the pillow away, allowing you to see the trace of tears on his face and the mess of saliva on his chin.

Beautiful.

"D-don't take it off," he pleaded sweetly. Maybe because he'd been fucked for so long his voice sounded loud, almost like a scream he didn't seem aware of. "In-inside... C-come in me." He repeated, sounding desperate: "Come in me."

And who were you to deny him anything?

Using your grip on his hips, you began to fuck him, eagerly, almost violently. Your cock eased in and out of him, being engulfed by the heat of his tight walls.

Choso's lips were trembling, his whole body was trembling - you noticed right away - and you wanted nothing more than to lean over and kiss him. But you forced yourself to just watch as his eyes rolled back, his arms hugging the pillow to his chest as the husky, sweet moans you loved most fell from his mouth.

Your nails pressed into his skin and you came, hard, hips swaying in erratic thrusts to enjoy the pleasure coursing through you. Your cock twitched and spurted inside him, marking his entrails with your belongings.

Choso gasped for air, body writhing on the sheets and you saw the exact moment he came all over his stomach and your pillow. Coming into him was enough to send him into his own orgasm.

Now you kissed him, grabbing the pillow between your chests and throwing it towards the floor. You swallowed each of his sighs; sweat and semen forming a mess between your bodies and before the memory of the inconvenient neighbor and the anxiety of being heard by strangers during sex returned, you rotated your hips in slow circles still inside him, extracting every reaction and every ounce of pleasure from him and gently led him on for a second round, then a third...

Then, you made Choso so loud that none of the neighbors had the nerve to come and complain the next day. Inflamed by it, after being fucked to the point he limped the next day and his throat got hoarse, he never tried to hide his moans from you ever again, even at the risk of being heard by his younger brothers.

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tra1nchi · 1 day

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halloo^^^

fucking your strict teacher so he can give u a A in his class!!! (hes getting the d😭)

(⁠◡⁠ ⁠ω⁠ ⁠◡⁠)!!!!

That made me giggle a little,,here comes like 5 different posts before I go to sleep lmao!!MINORS DNI!! Top male reader,,old man fucking,,edging,,Getting ur D to get u an A

You absolutely hated his class!! So you simply didn't try in it!! It was a college class,, your professor had more then enough things to focus on!! He totally won't notice you failing his class!!

Until he did!! >□< inviting you to stay in his room after class,,watching as your friends gave you sympathetic looks as they left!! But you didn't feel nervous not at all!!

He gave you a proper lecture for about an hour or so,, all about how you must listen in his class to succeed in life,,but you really didn't care!! All you could focus on was how his voice would sound when he moans!!

Manipulating him to somehow lay down on his desk,, spread his legs open and ready for you!! Mumbling under his breath how he didn't want to be in this position even though his cock was hard and leaking!!

Moaning out like a slut when he finally got your dick!! Who knew that your strict and annoying professor was such a whore for your dick!! Cooing at his begs and pleads!!

Promising to only let him cum when he gives you and A on your next test!! Which was weeks away!! His whined as it dawned on him that he won't be able to orgasm for so long!! >□<

#x top male reader #top male reader #x dom male reader #dom male reader #x bottom male character #bottom male character #{anon asks}#{top male reader}

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cloudyzeusy · 2 months

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Imagine the golden boy as your personal slut the person everyone looks up to and adores cockwarming you as soon as you guys get home.

He may ignore you or whatever painting you as the weird kid to his friends but who really cares when they are riding you using your cock as their dildo.

The same person who volunteers to help out children is begging for your cock on the daily their whole routine messed up if they dont have it. Even getting as desperate as too fuck in the school bathrooms not caring who hears.

You basically own him at this time point - holding the key to his caged penis a reminder that he needs you, a plug in their ass at school and a mini collar that he takes everywhere. I'd be shocked if he wasn't in love with you at this point.

You can use him when ever and where ever and he'll take it after all he's your personal slut.

#zeusy☁️#sub character #top male reader #seme male reader #x top male reader #dom male reader

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bloody-night · 5 months

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Just imagine, RYOMEN SUKUNA being under you, your eyes gazing his beautifully toned body. Your hands moving down to touch his sweet cunt, feeling him shiver slightly under your touch. Sure he could kill you in .2 seconds, but he wanted to see what you could do for him. Your fingers touched his sweet and wet folds, spreading them and exploring what he has. He softly exhaled, his back slightly arching as he felt a finger being inserted inside him. His pretty nails gripping the sheets slightly, glancing away to feel the pleasure. Your, now two fingers, worked themselves to please him, later making him wetter than he was before. He let out small groans, hands grabbing your shoulders tightly, his breath slowly getting quicker. “F-fuck. Keep going, just like that.” He spoke, glancing at you with his bloody red eyes. Your fingers sped up more, sweet squelching sounds coming louder. You saw how Sukuna got a bit embarrassed from the loud squelching, but he didn’t care, he liked what was happening this moment. His legs spread more, his breath hitching. He arched his back, a hand digging its nails into your shoulder, while the other ripped the sheets from the sensation he was feeling. “C-cumming…” He mumbled, gasping a bit high pitched, letting out the first moan you’ve ever heard from him, come out of his pink lips. His hips jerked, his pussy releasing sweet juices onto your fingers. Sukuna sat up, panting softly as he stared at you. His hands moving to your face, seemingly caressing it. You moved your fingers out of him, licking the juices he released on you. “Maybe I might keep you…” He mumbled, his lips dangerously close to yours.

#jjk #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x male reader #amab reader #male reader #x top male reader #x male reader #sub sukuna #sukuna ryomen smut

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alteriivik · 9 days

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u said u needed reqs so....

guy who doesn't take nthn seriously and is ALLLL bold confidence and jokes ACTUALLY being the worlds most blushed, whimpy sub EVER™️ when confronted by m!reader

JUST A LITTLE JOKE | RAMBLES

a/n: yummy yummy, im eating this for dinner. i also may be hyperfixating over minho from maze runners.

warnings: sexual content!! public sex, fingering, handjob, degredation

blushy, whimpy sub known to be the jokester—always fooling around, always up to something, always causing a ruckus. Someone who can NEVER take anything seriously. Being scolded? looking at his friends and stifling his snickers, having an emotional moment? says a joke out loud, presenting his group’s work? jumbling up his words and laughing.

blushy, whimpy sub who seriously can’t keep his mouth shut. Like seriously, he says the most out-of-pocket things, yet somehow, that still entertains everyone. His voice is also noticeably loud, but even when he whispers, he’s just talking in a slightly lower voice. However, no one can complain about it because, in the end, he always finds a way for them to smile.

blushy, whimpy sub who’s causing a big stir at the back of the class during lunchtime. Then the topic turned to you, the calm and quiet kid almost everyone in the class admired—and he wasn’t better than them. When the topic of you was brought up, and everyone agreed that you were boyfriend material, he started joking about things. Things that may or may not have gone too far as he wanted the attention to stray away from you. Not so nice things.

blushy, whimpy sub who was pinned to the wall behind the bleachers. Sweat dripping down his forehead as he tried to explain that he was only joking and that he didn’t mean all that stuff, nervously fiddling with his jacket’s sleeve. He looked everywhere but you, having trouble making eye contact with you. And then you grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at you. A small whimper was heard; God, he was so embarrassed.

blushy, whimpy sub who tried his best to play it off. He tried his best to ignore what happened between you and him days ago, yet even as he causes a stir, even when he talks to those around him, and even when he sleeps, he can’t help but think about what happened. He swears to God that he feels like pulling his hair out. He groans out loud whenever he remembers, faces turning red and him covering his face again for the one-hundredth time.

blushy, whimpy sub who’s yet again confronted by you, this time about avoiding you—in a secluded alleyway after being dragged out of a nightclub. While he avoided you, the tension between you two grew, and, of course, your classmates noticed. The said classmates always find a way for the two of you to be together, whether paired assignments or presentations—it’s been a couple of weeks like that, and he’s also gone insane because of it. He KNEW this was going to happen sooner or later.

blushy, whimpy sub who got hard as soon as you started touching him. His face was already flushing with red from the proximity to you. And when your lips feverishly kissed his, saliva being exchanged as your tongue invaded his mouth, he felt himself growing, warming inside. Your hands traced and groped his sides, the goosebumps forming from your actions. He clung to you tightly, his hands shaky, and yet he had a vice grip on you while you pressed him harder against the wall. He can feel moans forming at the back of his throat, but you always swallowed it.

blushy, whimpy sub whose knees felt like buckling. Muffled whimpers and whines dragged out of his mouth. His eyes were hazily looking at how you pump his dick, your thumb pushing against his tip before your hand goes down to the base and slowly drags up. He shivers at the coldness of the air surrounding you two, his breaths shaky and uneven. He jolts at the feeling of your nail dragging against his dick, eliciting a pretty moan from his mouth. You just started playing with him, but he’s already putty around your hands.

blushy, whimpy sub that, just like his usual self, is loud. Two of your fingers were deep inside his hole, sliding in and out smoothly from the slick he provided with his cum. You press your hand against his mouth again, degrading him about how much of a slut he was for doing this outside. Your hush whispers of degrading words played a part in making his mind go fuzzier, his face growing warmer. His mind was fogged up; he could only muffle out tiny pleas and whines for you. He could barely think of anything else, just focusing on your voice as you add another digit in him. Fucking him deep with just your fingers and making him cum with the degrading words that seep through.

blushy, whimpy sub who has his underwear in his mouth, yet it still didn’t stop him from being loud. His eyes were unfocused, staring at nothing in particular—they rolled back through from a harsh thrust. His face pressed against the cold, rough brick walls, yet the brick’s surface only made him grow harder. He felt your hands gripping tightly on his hips, using them as leverage to thrust into him. His hardened nipples grazed against the rough surface from every thrust. He felt so warm, so fuzzy and warm, he could only imagine how good this felt.

blushy, whimpy sub who wakes up beside you. In your room, alone with you and naked with each other. You surprisingly greet him with a good morning kiss, gently caressing his hips as you press soft kisses on his hickey-littered neck. He lets out a soft whimper from your behavior, slightly confused about how he got here. He felt himself growing warm again, blushing both in embarrassment and in desire—letting out a groan before straddling you and going at it again.

You two might’ve forgotten that there was school that day but who cares at that point?

@alteriivik | do not steal

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