#I want ti fucking squish him
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Made some shitty gifs of baby barry because he's been plauging my mind all day and night, he's SO FUCkIng!
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i am thinking about chuck taylor again :/ i am also being horny on main about it (again)
#chatter#i just think hes fascinating tbh like#physically he is the embodiment of boy next door#like hes just so fucking adorable i wanna pinch his cheeks and give him a forehead kiss#and then he opens his fucking mouth or does anything remotely manhandling - like and all of the sudden im like FUCK ok ok ok RECALIBRATING#my perception of you#i have Not been able to stop thinking about him on his fckn knees#but i also keep seeing him like . manhandling orange or whoever and im like interesting........#new data point.......#anyway if i had sex with chuck taylor regardless of who dommed it would be a fun fckn time#i DO want to sink my teeth into him i DO think he would look incredibly good with hickeys littered all over his body#update on this: i also want to tie him up and make him cry i think that would be. that would fix my depression#if i could call chuck taylor pretty boy while squishing his cheeks nd spitting into his mouth while hes tied up and all dazed i would .#i would no longer need antidepressants
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The time your giant of a boyfriend got a little over zealous and broke the bed.
I'm in a domestic mood today...indulge me (Trying to find some forgiveness in my heart for Coach!Miggy after that betrayel...)
Nothing had gone right for Miguel. The principle had gotten on him for the teams losing streak, his car hadn't wanted to start, and to top it off, he'd gotten a shitty voice mail from his ex wife, Dana.
When he walked through the front door and tossed his keys on the hall table, he wanted nothing more than a nice hot shower and a nap.
Then he saw you. Standing there in the kitchen looking all soft and domestic in your cute apron, the one with bees all over it.
You were busy rolling out biscuits, humming softly to yourself. Something about such a simple, wholesome, entirely domestic scene caused his cock to twitch.
Which led to him wrapping his arms around your waist, kissing your neck hungrily. Not wanting to waste any time, he sucked his way down the nape of your neck, and fumbled with your apron ties before giving up and ripping it off.
You'd gasped and chided him, but Miguel had simply hoisted you into his burly arms, peppering your face with kiss and muttered apologies as he carried you to your room.
A surprised squeak left your mouth when he tossed you on the bed, not even bothering to take off his shoes as he crawled over your prone form, pinning your wrists above your head with a single large hand.
Bracing his weight against the headboard with his free hand, Miguel began again attacking your neck and jaw with bruising sucks and nips which promised to blossom into a garden of hickies by morning.
Gripping the headboard tighter, he furiously ground his painfully hard bulge into the growing wet spot on your panties. Hearing your breathy little whimpers, he buried his face in your hair and groaned. It would be so easy to cum like that, to cream his pants like a horny teenager, you were so fucking sexy and warm, it made him-
Crack.
Youd gasped, and he jolted, pulling back to meet your surprised face. You both glanced at where his hand was still white knuckling the headboard, and the rather large crack that disappeared where the mattress began. Turning, you narrowed your eyes up at him.
"Miguel O'Hara did you seriously-"
You were cut off with a surprised squeal as the bedframe moaned and buckled, sending thre mattress and headboard crashing to the floor. Miguel caught the headboard and pushed it away, before searching your stunned face.
"Mi vida, estás bien?" His tone was concerned as he turned your face side to side, squishing your cheeks. Your eyes widened and you held his gaze in stunned silence to a long moment before you snorted.
"Eager tonight I see." You sucked in your cheek, and your eyes danced. Miguel groaned and collapsed on top of you.
#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x you#atsv miguel#miguel x reader#fluff#miguel imagine#suggestive#miguel o'hara x y/n
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#VENOM!
pairing: dick grayson x chubby afab!reader
word count: 800+
summary: dick comes home from a very long night, after encountering poison ivy, he can’t seem to think straight when all he can smell is you…
warnings: HEAVY SMUT!! sex pollen, dick has a big.. erm well.. dick, BREEDINGGGG, slight degradation, pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby, etc.), dom!dick, sub!reader, dick calls reader a fleshlight (lovingly ;p), dick's lwk a lil' mean in this but it's ok he loves you ;3
authors note: lawddd hold me back this man is bouta make me combust like all over his face SOMEONE HELP ME
“Fuckin’ hell-” Dick groaned lowly as he gripped your hips tighter, pulling your plush body back into his harsh thrusts.
Nights like this would normally have this outcome. Dick would come home, late at night after a patrol, looking and being frustrated as anyone would be, leaving you to be his relief.
But tonight.. Wasn’t one of those nights. This wasn’t calm, or half assed thrusts into your sopping cunt as you both lay half awake in bed, no. Dick wasn’t frustrated.. He was hungry.
“Dee! S-slow down baby-!” you squealed as your manicured hand reached back, your nails lightly brushing over his toned abdomen.
He’d been so overcome with lust that he hadn’t even fully discarded his suit, only zipping it down the middle and off his shoulders to leave it pooling at his waist, with his mask still tied around his eyes. The white, chalky glow around his eyes hiding his irises from your view.
He roughly grabbed your hand into his and intertwined them, a sweet gesture compared to his brutal pace he was keeping up with at the moment.
“Mine, mine, mine..” you heard him mumble as he leaned down, cooing into your ear as he pounded you from behind, the smacking of your ass against his upper thighs echoing throughout the room.
He moaned softly at the squelch of your cunt swallowing him, a creamy white ring surrounding the base of his cock every moment he pulled out.
“D-Dick, p-please baby-”
“Gotta breed you baby.. Show all these fuckers that you’re mine and get you pregnant. You’d like that huh? All full with my baby, my cum deep inside this needy lil’ pussy, hm? You want that princess?” You felt him smirk against your skin as he never faltered, his cock reaching so deep inside you–fuck this man would be the end of you.
He may have seemed like a sweet guy, and he definitely was.. Him in bed on the other hand, he was dirty, disgusting, nasty with the way he talked.
“You’re my lil’ fleshlight aren’t you? Just a wet little hole to stick my dick into, huh? S’all you’re good for?”
Tears pooled at the bottom of your eyes, your pussy throbbed at his words, no matter how offended you really were from them.
“S-S’mean Dee..” you cooed before he lifted you up to rest your back on his chest, groping your tits in one hand as the other trailed down your plump stomach and towards your pussy.
“Mean? I would never, baby. How could you accuse me of such a thing? All I do is treat you so fuckin’ well, don’t I?” Dick mumbled as his fingers started to toy with your clit, his middle finger rubbing the sensitive nub in circles as he continued his brutal pace on your weeping cunt. “F-fuck..” he whined as he pulled away for a moment to look down at where the two of you were connected, his cum from earlier rounds already starting to pool onto the bedsheets and trailing down your thighs. “S’good to me, ya know that? Such a good girl..” Fuck it was starting to become too much for him, but it felt so fucking good..
“G-Gonna come, Dee–fuck!” you whimpered as you fell back into the sheets with your face squished against the pillows, gripping the blanket into your hands tightly.
“F-fuckin’ come baby, come all over this cock..” He coos through clenched teeth, his nails lightly digging into your plush skin as his thrusts sped up.
Whiney breaths leave your throat as your climax starts building, before the coil in your tummy finally snaps, your juices gushing around him as he let out a whine and threw his head back.
“C-Come inside me, Dick–please!” you squeal with your face squished into the pillow to muffle your needy whines as his cock twitched inside you.
“I know baby, I know–fuckk!” he groaned as you felt him release inside you, thick ropes of his cum painting your walls a creamy white, giving a few shallow thrusts before stilling inside you, pants and heavy breathing leaving both of your lips as you sat in silence.
Despite your best efforts and hours of him being inside you, he was still.. Unnecessarily hard..
You whine as you try to crawl away from his needy hands before he grabs you by the waist and pulls you back to flip you onto your back, a few pieces of his hair stuck to his forehead as he looks down at you with a grin painting his plush lips. Gosh it’s like he was trying to kill you.
“P-please my love, let’s rest.. M’sensitive..” you whimpered as he chuckled lightly before grabbing the back of your thighs and pushing your legs towards your chest.
“Said ya’ wanted to help me..” he cooed as he leant down with his lips ghosting over yours.
“So, help me..”
#synful talkin’ ⛧#dick grayson smut#dick grayson#richard grayson smut#dc comics#titans dc#dc titans#richard grayson#dick x chubby reader#chubby reader#plus size reader#pacific islander reader#brenton thwaites#dick grayson x chubby reader#x chubby reader#x plus size reader#chubby!reader smut
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revealing outfit prank — hashira men
Author’s Note: borderline 18+NSFW, but ~mostly just suggestive. 😉
revealing outfit prank — hashira men
Himejima Gyomei x Reader, Iguro Obanai x Reader, Rengoku Kyojuro x Reader, Shinazugawa Sanemi x Reader, Tomioka Giyuu x Reader, Uzui Tengen x Reader
Word Count: ~2,000
CW: explicit language, Fem!Reader, mild sexual content
Suggestion Fulfilled: You know those girlfriend pranks on YouTube where the girl wears a sexy/revealing outfit to out in? Can I have HCs of our Hashira with a S/O who tries to walk out in such an outfit? Of course, they respect her choice in wearing whatever she wants, but that outfit is too tempting...
~faqs~
“Hey babe, guess what I’m wearing!”
“Clothes…”
—I mean, he’s not wrong 🙃
You huff, “Guess again.”
Gyomei pauses, wracking his brain for whatever else you could have on
“... not, clothes?” 🤨
“Well I’m not going out to dinner naked!”
“A cardboard box?” 😅
You can see his brow furrowing
He’s trying his best! 🥺
“So remember that slip dress I was describing for you a while ago?” 😏
His face warms as he recalls how you’d painted quite the picture of dainty ribbon details, an open back, and a satin hem that would barely brush past your thighs
He clears his throat, voice lower than before, “I remember that I encouraged you to buy it.”
He freezes, eyes widening, gaze focusing in the direction of your soft breaths, “You’re wearing it?!!!”
You giggle, he gulps
You can hear his inward groan 😩
“Isn’t it exciting?!” you squeal, stepping toward him, playful palms splaying across his chest as you grin up at his restrained expression, “I feel so pretty!” 😌
“You are so pretty,” he nearly growls, large hands settling promptly on your hips, “Maybe we shouldn’t go out after all.”
“Oh?” 👀
He chuckles as his fingers caress the silky, smooth fabric hugging your body, sensing the heat emanating from your bare, warm skin, eager to feel the curve and seduction of your spine, your shoulder blades, the tenderness of your nape
“I beg your pardon,” he rasps, an unfamiliar darkness in his tone as his fingers move upward to tug at your carefully tied spaghetti straps, tiny bows squished beneath the intensity of his touch, “I’m an adult, you know. I can have dessert for dinner.”
😳🥵🫠
—
“Gyomeeeiii!”
“My love?” ☺️
“I CAN’T POST THIS!” 😭😭😭
“And why not? Is my rizz too much for YouTube?”
“YES.” 😐
“You’re going out in that?” 🧐
You glare back, arms crossing over your chest
A not so subtle attempt to emphasize your tits 😌
Obanai not so subtly glances downward
“I repeat, in that?”
“The hell is wrong with what I’m wearing?” you scowl haughtily, “I thought you’d like it!” 😞
Blinking in disbelief, Obanai rolls his eyes, amusement softening his judgmental expression 🙄
“I’m not a fucking idiot,” he grumbles, “Of course I love it,” glare returning as he points an accusing finger at you, “But the last time you went out in something like that you ended up stealing all of my layers because you got cold!”
“Well then wear more layers!” you quip cheekily
“That’s my line!” 😐
*sigh*
“Do you want me to change?” 😕
“Absolutely not!” he snaps, ears reddening even as he makes a disgruntled gesture, “But, please, grab a coat.”
“Are you fed up with me?” 🤗
You inch closer to him
His breath hitches
“No.”
“Are you suuure?”
You can hear his heartbeat now, can see the restraint in his hands as he keeps them firmly by his sides
“If we don’t leave soon, then I’ll show you how not fed up with you I am.” 🙃
You grin easily, lips grazing his earlobe as you murmur
“Obanai, I don’t think that was nearly as threatening as you hoped it was.”
He inhales sharply, stepping away from your sweet, sultry scent, feigning sullenness when he mutters
“Your tits are staring at me.” 😃
You laugh, bouncing on the balls of your feet just enough for them to jiggle slightly
“Or are you staring at my tits?” 😉
He audibly groans, head tilting backward as he averts his gaze
“I hate this.” 😒
—
Rest assured, you never make it to your reservation 🤫
The video never makes it to YouTube either
PornHub, however…
Jk, jk
And Obanai does not hate this 😏
“You are breathtaking!” Kyojuro declares, beaming with pride as you twirl for him
He’s doing his best to ignore the fact that he can see your lacey panties when you spin
“Thank you!” you smile, striking a pose for him, “I feel so amazing in this dress.”
“You are amazing in any dress!” 😁
He’s earnest with the perfect dash of seriousness — like he needs to know that you know you’re beautiful
A gentleman as always 🥺
You hesitate, feeling almost guilty as you ask slowly
“Am I only amazing?” 🤭
You hope you’re coming off coy and alluring 😅
For all of his awkwardness, Kyojuro is nothing if not straightforward
“You are also sexy! Most definitely sexy!” 😍
Your expression cracks, your giggling filling the hallway as endeared laughter accompanies you
“How sexy?” you wink, an exaggerated, playful flirtation
Fortunately, Kyojuro loves improv 😏
—Yes, and!
“The sexiest woman I have known, I know, and I will know.”
There he goes again
Earnest, serious, and almost unbearingly sweet 😭💘
“Kyo,” you persist, “I’m trying to seduce you.”
He grins at that, eyes narrowing so quickly you nearly miss the tantalizing glint that flashes through them
“Oh I am aware, sweetheart,” he purrs, gesturing with his index finger for you to twirl again
You do, oblivious to the way his jaw clenches, gaze thickens, your pretty, dainty panties on display for him once more
“Look at me,” he commands softly, relishing the dazed, dizzy, glowing color of your face, “Look at me, and tell me whether you have succeeded.”
You look
It’s impossible to miss his erection, straining against his pants, bulge teasing and beckoning you to come closer
—
You post the video, minus a sizeable chunk 😶
“So people are allowed to thirst over you, but not me?” ☹️
You snort as Kyojuro pouts, patting his arm consolingly, “You can’t really see anything when I’m spinning, but your dick is a little too obvious.”
He perks up at that, kissing your cheek with reassured confidence, “It is quite large.”
—Whatever makes him feel better, y’know 😆
—That being said, it is quite large 🫣
P.S. Kyojuro begs to differ; he can see plenty when you’re spinning 😃
Help this man 😵💫
He is TIRED 😮💨
—Don’t get me wrong!
Sanemi does his best to be a good sport 🥺
And he’s 1,000% watched your videos in “secret”, numerous times over; you are entertaining ☺️
On nights when you’re apart, he falls asleep to his Favorites list (which consists solely of you) on auto-play
But there’re just one (thousand) too many trends for him to keep up with, and he never knows when he’s going to be your ~victim again 🙃
“Is this another prank?” he sighs, only slightly exasperated as his eyes stray from your pretty mouth to your tits practically spilling from your top 🫣
“Oh, so now I can’t look nice without it being a prank?” you retort, scowling playfully, “Rude.”
Raising his hands in mock defense, Sanemi smiles softly as you step closer to him
“You can touch me, y’know,” you murmur gently, “I’m not gonna break.”
Swallowing thickly, he lowers his arms, forearms hooking around your hips as he pulls you in
“Yeah,” he croaks, scanning the bedroom for wherever you might’ve hid your phone, desperation and desire bubbling in his throat, “But I’m not so sure about your outfit, it’s got so many strings and… and, holes.” 😃
You laugh cheerfully, squeezing his waist as you inform him, “They’re cutouts. They’re supposed to be sexy.” 😌
“They are,” he replies bluntly, stifling a long inhale as he willingly gives into his fate, “You are so fucking sexy.”
He’s already plucking at your shoulder straps, somehow boxing you in with his broad, chiseled body, even though it’s his back against the wall
“You’re not gonna ask me how I manage to avoid getting tangled?” you tease, your breasts pressed firm and warm into his chest as his heartbeat quickens
The question had occurred to him, but-
“Why the hell would I ask that when I could be untangling you instead?”
—
“Send me the video.” 😐
“Excuse me?”
You’re grinning
“Please.” 😞
He’s begging
You acquiesce, the thought of Sanemi jerking off to it later inspiring you to reach down again 😉
(Now imagine his faintly pained moan as you slowly caress him, valiantly hardening in your careful grip as he mentally prepares himself, this time intending to punish you; you can’t keep missing your reservations! 😤)
#the pranks are getting out of hand 😬
#but Sanemi can’t really find it in himself to be bothered 😶
#at least not when he’s already in something else 😏
“Why are you going out in that?” 🤨
“What are you implying?” you frown
“I asked first.”
You huff, “And your question offended me.” 😒
Grimacing, Giyuu glances downward, “I didn’t mean-”
“Do I look horrible?” ☹️
You almost feel badly, giggles brimming in your chest 🤭
“No.”
“Do I look too good?” 😌
You can practically see the gears turning in his head
“Yes? No. Yes. Wait. I’m confused.” 🫠
“How does my outfit make you feel?” 😉
He pauses at that, swallowing nervously as you run teasing hands up your sides, accentuating your hips and bust
“I look good, right?” 🥺
“Of course.”
“Do I look too good?” 😏
*Giyuu Panic 2.0 activated*
“What does that mean?” 😭
He’s hushed, in awe of your luscious form, inhaling roughly when you step into his immediate proximity, the hem of your dress nearly brushing against his shins as you twirl for him
“Giyuu, am I turning you on?”
When in doubt, go for frankness
*Giyuu Panic 2.0 deactivated*
Ohhh 😳🙄😎 <— he gets it now
“Not at all,” he says smoothly, “You look quite comfortable.”
You pout, fingers curling into the collar of his shirt as you nudge his feet apart, slipping your leg between his thighs as you close the distance, your body pressing clumsy and hot against his
He sighs, a quiet, enraptured sound, delicately brushing the straps of your dress from your shoulders before he rasps, “I am turned on. Delightfully so.”
Your dress crumples sheer and light to the floor, Giyuu’s jaw ticking with desire as he realizes just how easily it slipped off
“And you,” he murmurs, delicious warning in his tone as he thumbs the undersides of your tits, “Are such a pretty slut.”
—
“Why is it that every time I try and prank you, you end up fucking me instead?” 🥲
“Hm,” Giyuu hums, voice thick with amusement, “Seems premeditated to me.” 🥴
“Giyuu-!” you sputter 🫣
“GiYuU!” he smirks 🙃
“Are you mocking me?” 😠
“And?” he grins 😎
“See if I ever prank you again!” 😤
“Oh you will,” he remarks, nonchalant and cool, “Judging by how many times we changed the sheets yesterday, I’m not even worried.” 😃
Ngl, Tengen’s a lil desensitized 😆
He’s got four wives
He knows you’re all hot af 😉
He knows he’s hot af 😎
There’s not much you can do to faze him
Except like, get injured or something, but that’s kinda the opposite of what you’re aiming for 🥴
“Does this mean we’re fucking after dinner?”
✨He has a way with words✨
“Tengen,” Hina scolds
“So vulgar!” Suma exclaims
“Don’t act so innocent when you’ve ambushed me looking like that,” Tengen mutters, pants already tightening as he takes in the silken fabric draped delicate and precarious over your breasts, “Who’s idea was this?”
“Whose do you think?” Makio snorts
“Tengen,” you say breezily, reaching out to grasp his hand, stroking a coy, tender thumb across his knuckles, “Let’s go, we’re going to be late.”
“Obviously,” he grunts, eyes shining with appreciation—a welcomed promise—as he raises your palm to his lips, kissing your fingertips one by one, “We’re not leaving.”
—
“Hold up, you made two reservations?” Tengen shrieks
Your eyes roll as if to say Duh, already rummaging for a new dress while Suma helps pat Makio’s back dry, steam from the attached bathroom wafting into the bedroom
“She’s always prepared,” Hina chirps proudly, kissing your jaw with a fond smile
“That, and Tengen’s always horny,” you smirk
You don’t really have a video suitable for YouTube 😅, but you do post Before/After photos of the ~prank on Instagram with a cheeky Unfortunately, the “During” photos are NSFW 😏🫢🍑🍆 caption
#hashira x reader#headcanons#modern au#demon slayer smut#kimetsu no yaiba#demon slayer#himejima gyomei#gyomei x reader#iguro obanai#obanai x reader#rengoku kyojuro#kyojuro x reader#shinazugawa sanemi#sanemi x reader#tomioka giyuu#giyuu x reader#uzui tengen#tengen x reader
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𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: When you squirm just a little too much while Dazai eats you out, his bandages became decorations around your wrists and ankles... just so he can please you properly.
warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, fem!reader, boyfriend!dazai, bondage (with his own bandages), cunnilingus, shyness, embarassment, sideways position (turned into your legs on his shoulder), p in v intercourse, dazai's a bit pushy....he just wants to please you.
a/n: him and bondage always gets me going... brb gotta write a piece with him bound in his own bandages. wc: 600ish.
v-day m.list | m.list
thirst count: 1
divider credit: @hitobaby & @firefly-graphics
“Y/N, princess… stay still.” He drawed out the pet name languidly, his breath fanning against the bud of your clit and you squirmed again. It felt overwhelming, your face hot with shame as his eyes– and tongue– drew hearts on your pussy; he just loved admiring you. He was trying to at least but you kept shying away from him, your body scooting away from the slightest lick to the heat of your cunt.
Dazai’s tried everything; he’s held your thighs squished against his face but you wedged them open, he’s placed a delicate hand on the base of your tummy but you pouted at him, and he’s even cooed into you with gentle praises of ‘you’re doing so well, it’s okay, my love…don’t be shy.’ But nothing worked as your legs kicked out from underneath his firm grip on you and he huffed a bit as he came up, slick covering his lips with a frown.
“Y/N.”
“It’s embarrassing, Dazai…” You whined, clasping your thighs together as he sighed wearily while sitting back on his haunches. “I’m sorry…”
“No need to be sorry, my love.” Dazai said, his tone forgiving but… worrying? He started to untie some of the bandages that wrapped his arms and you tilted your head slightly with a puzzled look.
“What are you doing?”
“Tying you up.” His voice teased a higher octave, short and to the point and you felt some of your arousal drip out of you from how domineering he muttered it. “Since you won’t let me do my job–” Dazai twisted your arms behind you, “–pleasing you like the great boyfriend I am, these will have to do.”
Dazai ribboned the bandages together, tucking it securely into a bow and then he started on your legs and you squirmed against him again as he tied your ankles with a short pull. Your thighs had been pressed together and you couldn’t really move as you laid on your side, your arms snugly against the middle of your back and your legs slightly bent upwards, your entire cunt exposed in front of him. You honestly didn’t know what he was about to do; if he was going to continue lapping at your wetness or if he was going to leave you there for being so difficult.
You really hoped it wasn’t the latter and your mind raced a bit as you closed your eyes, waiting for his next move. You felt a bit of shuffling near you, his body shifting its weight against the foam of the mattress and you vaguely wondered what he was doing.
A sharp gasp left you as you felt the tip of his cock prod against your entrance, his lithe fingers spreading apart your folds slightly so he could thrust in. A relieved moan escaped him as he bottomed out in you, soothing his other hand up your thigh. “That’s better…”
Dazai started rolling his hips into you keenly, earning gasped moans and whimpers from you as he gained a steady rhythm. He was basically fucking you sideways– with deep long thrusts hitting your sweet spot in its entirely and you shook with please; until he hoisted your pinned legs against one of his shoulders, his crown nestled directly against your cervix now. Dazai set a brutal pace, his hips slamming against you and all you could do was cry out into the pillow, euphoria overtaking your body with a shudder and you clenched around him tightly. “Shit– maybe you should squirm more often...gives me a reason to fuck you like this–”
Tied up prettily in his bandages, all because you couldn’t stop fidgeting underneath his intoxicating touch…you were sure your timidness would bruise you someday.
#𝓁𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉𝑒'𝓈 𝓋𝒶𝓁𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑒𝓈 ꨄ#𝚕𝚒𝚐��𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚜 ☾#bsd x reader#bsd x you#bsd smut#bsd x female reader#bsd x y/n#bungou stray dogs x you#bungou stray dogs x reader#bungou stray dogs smut#osamu dazai x reader#dazai x reader#dazai x you#dazai x y/n#dazai x fem reader#dazai smut#dazai osamu smut#dazai osamu x reader#dazai osamu x you#dazai osamu x y/n#bsd dazai#bungou stray dogs dazai#fem reader#𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚏𝚠 ✰
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Smut alphabet for Levi Ackerman
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Do not let yourself influence by his cold and sarcastic nature. Whatever you had a rough and intense or slow and passionate sex session, he will care about you the same way: extra gentle.
First, he will bring your tired body to the bathroom to clean you up. While Levi wraps his arms around your waist, his lips leave tons of light kisses on your shoulder. He's going to mumble something about how did you like it, hoping he didn't went too harsh on you. Quickly changing the bed sheets, he puts you to sleep shortly afterward. Cold and stern in the outside, sweet and caring in the core.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Your boyfriend doesn't really have a favorite part of his own body. Like... he thinks its okay and normal, just like everybody else. But he cannot help but feel proud of his muscles, always cracking a smile whenever you compliment his abs, biceps or pecs. He found them useful when it comes to dominate you.
What about your body? I am pretty sure that if you ask him what he likes about your body, the first words that will come out would be ass or thighs. Which is not surprising after his constant pleas of getting his face squish by your thighs and to sleep on your ass like if it was the most comfortable pillow in the whole world. Levi always gives your butt a loving slap when he comes back home. It's his secret way of saying hi.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Levi likes to eat your cum, it's one of his favorite meal. This man is so hungry for your dripping wet pussy that he can spend hours liking it while you are sitting down on his face. He just loves the taste of your cum and hwo your juices run down his lips as he tries to lick it all. He doesn't even care about getting dirty anymore. This guy knows his priorities.
He also wants to see your body covered in his cum. Thighs, face, stomach, chest, hair... nothing is forgotten. He just looks down at you and has the biggest prideful smirk on his face at the sight of the mess he has made. He knows you are gonna kill him for putting sperm in your hair because it is hell no wash it so he enjoys it the longer he can.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Levi enjoys fucking you while your hands are tied. He never thought about enjoying slight BDSM but here he is, liking the fact that you can't touch him or squirm away. Also works if your eyes are covered, the adrenaline of not knowing what he is doing to you amplifying the pleasure you feel during sex. He will never really say it out loud, he prefers to keep it for himself even if he is almost sure that you enjoy it as much as he does. You probably already guessed that his favorite tool to tie you up with is his cravate did you?
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Levi might do some researches the day before you two do your first time to be sure that he will do everything right. When it time to do it, he takes out like a dozen of condoms because he didn't know which ones you prefers. Yeah, he might be a bit unsure for the first times but he does not assume, he just doesn't want to show you his insecurity.
Beside reading, he has 0 experience before he started dating you. I mean, it's canon that this man is a virgin (well, was) and is the most sexually frustrated. However, even if Levi doesn't have much experience, he manages to fuck you like a pro. This man is not only the Humanity's Strongest Solider for fighting...
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Levi doesn't really have a preference for a position. I mean, it's all depend of his mood. He is in a romantic mood? The missionary. He wants to fuck you good and dominate you? Doggy style. He wishes for slow but intense sex? Lotus position. He's lazy and just want to watch you fuck yourself on his dick? Cowgirl.
So, it all depends of how he is feeling, what is his mood, ect. But he does like to try new and weird positions that take him out of his comfort zone. You can come up to him and say you want to try the golden arch (this looks sexy asf) and he will say yes without even thinking twice, just because he likes to add spiciness in sex.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Levi being Levi, he will NEVER be goofy. This man is barely expressive in the daily life so for sex, it will be pretty difficult. He will not make jokes, excluding maybe “Cumming so much, you’re like a real fountain, princess.” with a smirk on his face. If he jokes, it will be very light and more seen as dirty talk. This man is 100% in every time you fuck so joking around? He doesn’t even think about it.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Levi hates everything that isn’t clean and dirty, and this include his own body. So… expect that this area will be super clean and shaved almost daily (yes, he’s a maniac, even for this.)
Maybe it’s a bit out of the subject but we are talking about hair here so for me it’s include the “normal” hair. About them, you know Levi tries to keep them the best groomed possible, but he secretly loves when you tug on them suddenly. Please, grip his hair and push his head down when he gives you a cunnilingus or pull them harshly when you get overstimulated after he made you cum for the 5th time. He will do anything to please you.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Levi can be very romantic during love-making just like he can just fuck to fuck. His love and romanticisme are not very evident but it's the small attentions that matter for him. Taking care of you after, whispering praises into your ear, holding your hand... He won't really show that he's romantic but if you take a look at his actions... you will see it.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Levi jack off a lot less often since he started to date and get intimate with you. He prefers skin too skin contact over his hand and imagination. Boy, he was a total virgin before he did his first time with you, so my man was the pro of jacking off (sounds so wrong writing this). I even think that Levi will prefer to wait to fuck you instead of jacking himself off.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Two words: authority kink. Listen to me, I know everybody says that Levi got this kink but you're this man's little brat and he is your superior who got control on you. Yes, you have to call him Captain Levi or else he will punish you. And yes, he will call you brat or bratty slut but don't worry, it is always affectionate. Levi likes to have control, who doesn't like it? So if you start to call him 'Captain' expect him to act like one.
Second kink would be degrading kink. Calling you a whore, slut, cum dumpster, whatever degrading nicknames you like. Tugging on your hair as he fucks you hard, making your back arching beautifully as he whispers bad bad words into your ear. But hey, once the love-making session is finished, he will immediately ask you if he wasn't too rough or anything because he truly loves and cares about you. Maybe he got the degrading kink but he will never hurt you on purpose. And I see you, anxious girls who are scared that he doesn't love you when he calls you names. You just have to tell him and he will stop. Your well-being is his number one priority and you should never feel insecure with him.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Levi can do it anywhere, everywhere, any time, every time, you just have to ask. Bed? Basic but perfect. Kitchen table? He couldn’t wait anymore to devour you, you’re his meal. His office? The fear of being caught just makes it better. In the car? You’ve been too much of a brat and you need a punishment right now.
I think his favorite place to do it would be his office. He likes to see you trying to hold back your moans as he’s pounding inside you because the people outside the office could totally hear you. Or seeing your teary eyes as you are on your knees sucking his dick like a good little bitch under his desk. He even has the boldness to make phone calls, forcing you to keep it silent if you don't want everybdy knowing who's fucking you.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Acting bratty is probably the biggest turn on. Levi is instantly turned on if you tries to ignore his commands. Why he likes it? Cause he can teach you how to be a good girl and listen to him. Grabbing your hair, making you look at him as he asks you to repeat what you said. A satisfied grin spreading on his lips as you apologize and beg him to fuck you.
Another thing that could make Levi turn wild would be you flirting on purpose with other people. God his expression turns mad when he sees you a bit too close for his liking with this guy. If you want a good punishment, Levi's jealousy is a very quick way to achieve it.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
I don't see Levi doing anything that would imply other people like fucking directly in public or doing a threesome (you are his and only his). He won't also do something that could harm you too much like intense BDSM or anything about knifes or torture. He likes spiciness but this is a whole new level in which he doesn't want to be.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Levi likes both of them. I mean, if he had to choose, it would be impossible. How can he decide between eating your beautiful and perfect cunt and seeing and feeling you sliding his big cock down your throat, you tongue caressing all the sensitive spots?
I would say Levi has pretty good skills in everything (cough) which include pussy eating (COUGH). He would probably win the prize of the best tongue flicking at this point. He will keep your legs spread as you try desperately to close them, feeling his warm tongue licking the most intimate place of your body. “C’mon darling, don’t be so shy. I already saw everything that could be seen down here.”
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Levi is most of the time fast and rough, maybe it is like this that he proves his true love for you. When he fucks you real hard, be ready to not being to walk the next day. Often when he will be slow and sensual it will be to tease you and torture you slowly, when you can feel the heat between your thighs spreading more and faster. "What did you say? I didn't hear you. Slower?"
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
He likes to have quickies time to times like in his office right before an important meeting. He likes the stress of running out of time where you are literally begging him to fuck you faster and harder. Levi approves quickies.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Levi likes pretty much risking new things and he is very open-minded when it's come to sex stuff (surprising but it's one of the rare topics that he is very collaborative with). He doesn't really have a limit and is chill with everything. As long as it makes you happy, he's ready for everything like stated in the previous letters.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Okay so... Levi is a total wild animal. Yeah, I know he's supposed to be close to his 40s but tell yourself that he is the Humanity's Strongest Soldier and can run kilometers without being tired so sex is like a little walk for him. He can easily fuck for 3 and more rounds and last 10 to 15 minutes in each before cumming. I'm telling you; this man is almost impossible to exhaust so be ready. But don't worry, I'm sure Levi will be pleased to give you a few practices ;)
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Levi would buy some toys to use on you, just to test this out for a night. Well... and he used them again and again. He just loves to see your body squirming as you're fucked by a vibrator. "Cumming and I didn't even touch you, damn." he would say with a smirk. Or he could also buy handcuffs but he prefers to use his cravate.
I don't think he would ever want to use a fleshlight because he thinks that your pussy is 100 times better than some fake sex toy. He lives to feel your skin on his. Plus, he rarely masturbates so it would be useless to have sex toys for himself.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
This man loves to tease you. HE WANTS to hear your begging for him to fuck you faster, harder or whatever you want. He's gonna to slowlyyy move his hand down toward your private part, just to keep you waiting. He will take his time to kiss every little spot of your skin, leaving dark marks on your neck, shoulders and chest.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
He won't be really loud even if he fucks you like an animal. Maybe some grunts, gasps and groans as he's thrusting into you deeply. He will also talk a lot but like... dirty talk. Pet names literally flowing down from his lips any time he can. When he will be cumming, he will only bite his lips to hold back the sounds, biting it so hard it started to bleed sometimes.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
When Levi is nervous about something, he will tend to be more impulsive, getting angry easier. He doesn't even realize that he repeats certain actions like passing his hand in his hair, replacing his cravate... so, if you see these movements, your darling boy is nervous. Maybe you could go and asks him what's wrong and try to calm him down? You are probably the only person he won't kill for asking him questions.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Even if Levi is short as hell (sorry but man he's 5'3), his cock is all the contrary. Oh boy, this man got the whole tool. I mean… He. Is. Big. As. Fuck. Not only long but also large. In short, that man got something that will surely satisfy you. His dick + his professionalism in sex makes him a real master. You can’t be disappointed cause that cock hit all the deepest part of your body at each thrust.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Levi has a very low sex drive. I mean, he's a grown man, he can pass many days without sex and not being sexually frustrated. He was a virgin for like 20 years so he's kinda used to a very low sex drive. But after many years with you, his sex drive will augment a bit, he will be in the average I guess? But he isn't a sex addict either who can't live a day without fucking.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
It takes some time to Levi to fall asleep every day but after a long and tiring session of sex, he sleeps like a baby. It won’t take long for him to fall asleep, a few minutes after getting down from his high. But he will try to fall asleep after you, just to be sure you’re fine but… sometimes are harder than others. When he feels that he’s losing the battle, he will hug you tightly and caress your hair, trying desperately to make you sleep first (does it even work??)
#levi x reader smut#levi ackerman smut#levi ackerman#levi aot#levi aot smut#levi smut#levi x reader#aot smut#attack on titan smut#levi ackerman x reader#smut alphabet
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Mean!Dom Eddie blurb 18+ mdni
Cw: f!reader, p in v, praise and degradation, bondage, Eddie raises his voice.
Your eyes are rolling to the back of your skull as Eddie cock slides in and out of your slick cunt ever so slowly.
"That's my girl, fuck baby you're being sucha good girl. Taking this cock so well"
You're bent over with your face squished into the mattress with your hands tied behind your back.
You can feel Eddie’s thick fingers digging into your love handles as he is squeezed you harder and harder as his cock slowly penetrates you. Each glide of his cock is deliciously grazing over your G spot. But he is going so slow it's almost torcher.
Eddie hears the muffled moan that broke through the sheets and he knew he had you right where he wanted.
"What's wrong little one? Cant handle it?" He still was going at the same agonizingly slow tempo.
"F-faster" you beg
"You'll take what I give you" you could just picture the cocky grin on his face.
"Please!" You cry
"I don't think so babygirl I just love watching my cock disappear into this tight little cunt." He watch how his cock stretched you so much that your little asshole would move with each stroke.
He spread your ass checks so he could see everything.
"Baby i-i need more" you were being such a brat but he was being so mean. So you arched your ass into him trying to bounce yourself off of his cock.
A sharp sting came down in your ass cheek and as the sound of Eddie hitting your ass echoed throughout the room.
"I SAID YOU'LL TAKE WHAT I GIVE YOU" his voice boomed through the walls of your bedroom.
Safe to say you had to be edged for hours before Eddie let you cum that night.
#Eddie Munson x you#Eddie Munson x reader#Eddie Munson smut#eddie munson x female reader#dom!eddie munson#dom!eddie Munson x you#dom!eddie Munson x reader#Eddie Munson imagine#Eddie Munson blurb
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Wings. Fire. Magic.
Dragon Trainer Joel x Female Reader
Summary: After stealing an egg you become the prisoner of a very handsome human male.
CW: no smut (yet), massage, weaponry, mild nudity, blood
Word Count: 3.3k, just a teaser
Graphics by @saradika-graphics 💚🐉
You peel one eye open, the man who has you captive appears to be sound asleep, leaning up against a rock with an axe across his outstretched legs, one ankle crossed over the other. The large trees rustle around you in the breeze. Moonlight dancing around his face, the scar along the side of his head glistens.
Ok, captive is a strong word. You did try to steal from him. You had stolen from him. A fiery orange egg. Between your magic and your wings you should have been able to escape. He’s just a human and you are one of the few magic Fae left in this world.
Last night, he let you out of the tightly wound chains he had wrapped around you since catching you. For two days you were stuck in those chains that glow a sickly green, chains that silence your magic. Now a single thick cuff, in that same putrid green, is wrapped around your ankle, a short chain binding it to a nearby tree. Your iridescent wings ache as you roll off your back and onto your side to face Joel.
Joel. Pfft. What a weird fucking name.
You try to stretch your wings quietly, but Joel’s eyes pop open at the little grunt you let out.
“What’s wrong?” He grumbles.
“Nothing,” you say defiantly as you roll onto your stomach and try to lift your wings out to stretch them. Your wings may look dainty and fragile, but they weigh more than you and without your magic it’s almost impossible to move them. You grunt again, if Joel hadn’t wrapped you in that fucking chain you wouldn’t be dealing with the uncomfortable tightness between your shoulder blades that can only be fixed by stretching and fluttering your wings.
Joel sighs in annoyance as he stands and walks over to you. The gravel crunching under his boots wakes the thing that quite possibly intrigues you more than it scares you. It’s a death sentence to want to be around her. It was a death sentence to steal that egg.
You try to slow your heart as you hear Remmer, Joel's indescribably large dragon move through the shadows behind you. Breathe, breathe, you say to yourself, sweat slicking your palms.
“What’s wrong?” He says again, more softly this time, feet stopping by your head.
“You fucking tied me up, Joel. With that enchanted chain for two fucking days. You squished my wings and now they’re sore.” You don’t mean for it to come out as a whine, but there’s a cold fire spreading across your upper back, slowly spreading up your neck and into your lower back.
He looks down at you, you stay on your stomach, eyes staring at his boots in front of you, resting your cheek on your hands. “You stole from me,” he says flatly.
“Ya, I know Joel, you made that abundantly fucking clear. Just go back to sleep.” You try to stretch your wings out and then up, but the right one cramps and a sharp pain lances through your body. You cry out into the quiet dark night and it echoes back at you mockingly.
“What can I do?” Joel says bending down beside you, placing a large warm palm in between where your wings meet your back.
“Rub there,” you say through the pain of the cramp. This isn’t like when you get a cramp in your calf, a wing cramp lights every nerve on fire. Tension builds in your neck and starts to blur your vision, your sciatic nerve shooting pain down both legs.
Joel rubs the space between your wings in slow gentle circles, his rough hand scratching against the leather of your jacket. You gasp out in pain again as the right side twitches harder. Joel moves swiftly, undoing the zipper down the back of your fighting leathers, opening it fully, rubbing at your bare skin where your wings connect to your back, trying his hardest to work out the knots. He continues the same slow gentle circles and your left wing finally relaxes, curling itself back against your body.
“Is this ok?” Joel whispers. His voice sounds dry and timid.
You moan slightly as the cramping begins to ease. “A little harder,” you say.
He kneads the joint of the right one a little harder and it flops down weakly beside you, but he doesn’t stop massaging you. His other hand trails along the top edge of your wing to the first joint and he gently folds it back to your body.
You close your eyes at the tingly sensation that spreads down your spinal cord at his touch, it feels like warm oil being drizzled down your back and the pain in your legs stops. No one has ever touched your wings before and humans are known to be vicious, yet there isn’t an ounce of fear in you as the man you’re currently a prisoner to cares for you.
His hand on your wing continues to trace along the outer edge until it’s all tucked up right above your hip. His other hand kneads down your spine and you melt into the hard ground you were sleeping on.
A little whimper passes your lips at how good his hands feel on your body. Both his hands trail lightly up your spine and massage at your neck. When they slip into your hair the pain in your head stops and your vision evens out. An almost pornographic moan passes your lips. He jerks his hands away and you bite your cheek to stop yourself from begging him to continue.
He lets out a low whistle. You feel the air move around you and the massive dragon lands beside you with a tiny thump. Fear rises in your throat like a dry lump. A voice inside your head laughs at you. Little Fae warrior, steals an egg yet is petrified of what’s inside.
Joel grabs your ankle and unshackles the chain. Then says, “Don’t run. Go back to sleep, we have a long journey tomorrow.”
The next morning Joel doesn’t wrap you in chains and make you sit side saddle on Remmer like he did the day before. Instead, he places a thin gold cuff that glows green around your wrist and then gives you a boost to sit normally before he hauls himself up behind you. He makes it look easy, his long powerful leg stretching, the lean muscles lining his back and arms pulling him up. The cuff silences your magic just enough that you won’t be able to fly.
The dragon rises from its crouched position when Joel takes the reins and you grab the edge of the saddle - even though you know that when you’re caged between Joel’s broad frame you won’t fall.
He lets out a whistle similar to last night and with one long swoop of her wings the dragon is up in the air. You tuck your wings in tight to your body, Joel's strong, leather wrapped chest close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off him. The warmth feels nice against the sore muscles lining your back, you have to fight the urge to lean against him completely.
He doesn’t bring up what happened last night so you stay quiet as the dragon soars high above the fluffy white clouds. Morning dew sticking to your skin, you gaze around admiring the rising sun casting hues of pink and orange around you. It’s almost kind of romantic, minus the whole being held captive and being taken - well, you aren’t exactly sure where Joel is taking you.
You sit in silence as the morning sun rises up and over you, until it becomes the evening sun. Joel pulls the reins and his dragon swoops down, skimming the surface of the large lake you didn’t even know you were flying over. The dragon drinks deeply, dragging her long obsidian claws of its back feet through the water. There’s a large mountain range on the other side of the lake and when you reach the shore the dragon gracefully veers upwards, landing in a grassy clearing between two peaks. Remmer lands so gently that you barely feel it, the only sign that you’re on the ground is that the wind around you has stopped.
Joel doesn’t take the cuff off, but says “I’m trusting you not to run” before climbing down the leg of his dragon. He disappears into the tree line, assumingly to gather some firewood, and the dragon turns her head to look at you, almost side eyeing you as if to say “get the fuck off of me you freeloader”.
You mutter an apology to the dragon, flinging your leg over the saddle, trying to replicate all Joel’s steps while the burnt orange eyes of the dragon watch you.
Once you hit the ground the dragon nudges you with her snout and you stumble forward before she takes off into the air, darting into a cave above the right side of the meadow.
Rude.
You look around the meadow, light green clover and colorful wildflowers cover most of it. Tall trees lining the edge of it, a jagged rocky mountain cliff face that leads to the cave closes in the rest of it. You hear water trickling, spinning around you see a stream of bright blue water. The water is so clear that you can’t tell how deep it is. The bed of the stream is covered in rocks of purples, greens and blues.
Joel is nowhere to be found and you’ve been up near the sun in these leathers all day. You glance around again before stripping off all your clothing and submerging yourself in the cool blue water. It flows over your skin like silk, you take a big breath and disappear under the water for a little bit, watching a few striped fish swim past.
Suddenly, a hand has you by your hair, ripping you from the water as a yelp leaves your mouth.
“Joel, what the fuck?” You yell, trying to cover your naked body with your arms. But it’s not Joel. No, it’s three large males dressed in greens to match the meadow. All of them have large full beards and are armed with curved blades.
When humans think of sprites they imagine small woodland creatures. But some sprites are anything but that. In this land, sprites have been after fairy wings for as long as you can remember. The brutal males need the wings to make the potion to keep their unbelievable strength.
They speak to each other in a language that you don’t understand. Two of them grab onto you, one at your hands and the other at your feet. They spin you around and slam you face first into the ground. You scream out, hoping that Joel is close enough, or cares enough, to come help you. But maybe he brought you here for this reason. Maybe he only massaged your wings so tenderly last night because he’s expecting some sort of payment from these males.
The third male crouches down beside you. “Shut the fuck up, there’s no one here who can help you.”
His hand reaches around the top of your wing and he pulls it as hard as he can to try to pry it away from your naked body. If Joel had removed the small gold cuff around your wrist you may have been able to fight them off. At this point all you can do is squeeze your wings into yourself as hard as you can. They need the whole wing, joint and all to make their potion properly.
“No! Please!” You scream, seeing the long sharp dagger he pulls from his boot.
His feral touch on the sensitive membranes of your wings is almost enough to make you wretch. His cronies pull your arms and legs tighter, almost as if they’re trying to rip you in half, the sharp rocks poke and scratch underneath you.
“No! Help me! Someone!” You are practically sobbing.
You know you aren’t a good fairy. You’ve spent years stealing and taking things that aren’t yours, but it was for your village. Fae in this area of the world have been pushed out of land that they once owned. Your ancestors were injected with that same sickly green that Joel has embedded in his chains and then stripped of their wings. Magic and wings were lost for centuries. Babies were born without either, and only recently did it start showing up in a new generation of Fae. You thought yourself lucky at one time, but here you are, about to be flayed open like a spatchcocked chicken.
A sharp poke hits just above your right shoulder blade and you scream out in agony. Before you can comprehend what’s happening you’re encased in a dark shadow. For a moment you think you’re dead, until glowing flecks of orange light cast a warm glow around you. A wing. You’re surrounded, tented in almost, by a wing. You hear the males pleading on the other side.
“Easy there.”
“We didn’t mean no harm. Eaaaasy.”
You hear the sound of wood falling to the ground and as if he appeared from thin air, Joel is beside you, his axe gripped tightly in one hand. He’s crouching slightly and you wrap your arms around yourself to cover your naked flesh.
“NO!” You scream, trying to scramble away from him.
He puts a finger to his lips to shush you and then steps out from the wing.
The males go quiet.
“If you touch her again,” Joel says darkly, “My dragon will be the least of your concerns.”
“We have gold,” the voice of the one who was cutting you says, “give us the fairy and we’ll give you gold.”
Joel is silent for too long, you’re sure he’s considering it, about to sell you off. You reach over your shoulder to where the dagger pierced you and feel a sticky warmth against the pads of your fingers, pulling your hand back you see your fingers coated in blood.
“Stay. The fuck. Away from her,” Joel growls. Remmer huffing beside you.
You hear the footsteps of the men trail off. The dragon lifts her wing and then peaks at you with one eye. You stay seated on the ground, knees drawn to your chest, covering yourself up as best you can. A shiver runs down your body, the dragon's eye narrows slightly and then warm air blows from her nose, heating the space under her wing.
You smile at the dragon. “Thank you.”
“Lift up,” Joel says on the other side of the wing. The dragon growls quietly at him. “Ok weirdo. Can I at least hand her her clothes?”
She lifts just enough for Joel to slide your boots, leathers, and white cotton shirt under. The moment his hand is clear she flaps it back down and huffs at him. More warm air fills the space before she turns her head away so you can get dressed.
“How chivalrous,” you say to the dragon. The tented space under the wing is big enough for you to stand up in as you shimmy your clothes and boots on, leaving your jacket off since the joint of your wing is burning. You can already feel the soft cotton of your shirt sticking to you. “I’m dressed,” you call out when you’re done.
The dragon peaks in again at you. “Am I allowed out?”
Remmer stares at you for a little while before Joel speaks up from the other side of your cocoon, “Rem, she’s not your pet. You can’t hold her in there…”
The dragon eyes soften at you and you smile a little. “I’m ok, I promise. Thank you.”
She lifts her wing up and nudges you towards Joel, using her nose to turn your body so that Joel can see the blood.
“Shit,” he whispers.
“I’m fine, Joel.” You say, trying to step away but you’re caged between the dragon's large head against your stomach and Joel at your back.
“You’re not fine,” he says, moving your hair away from the deep gash. “Fuck, don’t move. We need to wrap this up.”
The dragon must be able to understand him, because she immediately turns her body to where the bags hang off her saddle. He gets the medical supplies and then pulls you gently over to sit on a rock. He stands behind you, tugging the back of your shirt so he can see the full extent of the damage.
“This might sting,” he says as he uncaps a bottle of antiseptic.
He drizzles a little bit on you and it feels like liquid fire spreading across your body. You bite hard on your lip to not scream, hands curling into fists. The dragon pushes herself flat to the ground and almost slithers up to you, resting her massive head on your lap, looking up at you with sad eyes.
“Why’d you take it?” He says, gentle hands beginning to wrap a bandage around the joint of your wing. You stretch it out as much as you can to make it easier for him, wincing at the sharp pinching sensation, Rem lets out a whine, similar to a little dog, at the sign of your pain.
You want to reach out to pet the dragon but fear stops you, “The egg?” you ask timidly.
“Mm-hmm,” he says behind you, looping the bandage around, the back of his hand grazes the underside of your wing. You hadn’t realized how sensitive that part of your body is and your nipples harden, eyes closing briefly at the sensation.
“We needed money,” you reply just above a whisper.
“Who’s we?”
“My family. I’m the only one with magic and wings, their survival falls on me. And there’s not a lot for us here.”
“Why don’t you all go somewhere else?” he asks, his hand brushing that sensitive spot again.
You snort a little, the dragon thinking it’s pain nuzzles into you more, you still don’t move to pet her. “Wingless Fae aren’t exactly welcome in many places, and as you just saw, those of us with wings are under attack.”
“Why?” he asks again as he ties the bandage in a knot.
“Our wings hold our magic.”
One of Joel's strong arms trails down yours, his chest pressed against your back. Sparks shoot across your body at his sudden and all consuming closeness. He smells like pine needles and fresh grass. His hand wraps around your wrist and he brings your hand to rest on the Remmer’s head, right between her glowing orange eyes.
“Just don’t stroke against her scales, she won’t like that.”
You take a shaky breath and stroke back towards the spiky crown of her head. Her spikes lay flat and she closes her eyes, a purring sound fills her chest and you smile over your shoulder at Joel.
“Where are you taking me?” You ask.
“Where we take all thieves.” He says.
The King.
“No, please. You can’t! He’ll do worse than cut off my wings!” You plead, Rem shoots her head up towards Joel, eyes flaring.
“Remmer, down.” Joel says warningly at the dragon. She doesn’t lower her head back to your lap, but you notice the orange in her eyes softens. He turns now to address you, “This is the way of your world, you knew that long before you took my egg.”
Rem huffs smoke at him when he says ‘my egg’.
“Apologies. When she took your egg.”
Remmer blinks at him, then back at you before resting her head back on your lap. You use both hands now to stroke along her scales. It's hard to believe that just mere hours ago you were terrified of her, but something about those males that attacked you has changed her presence around you.
Joel turns towards the wood he dropped earlier and starts building a fire. You swear you hear him say, “whose side are you on?” under his breath.
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#joel miller#joel miller tlou#joel the last of us#pedro pascal#pedrohub#joel tlou#joel x reader#pedro is daddy#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#daddy joel#joel miller au#joel x f!reader#joel x female reader#joel x you#joel x oc#joel x y/n#joel miller fic#hbo the last of us#dragon au
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That’s it, Princess
Summary: You sneak out the Keep to rile up your husband. And his punishment is...not what you thought it would be.
Based off this ask:
A/N: So I think I was possessed when I wrote this cos I blacked out halfway through so. I also changed the request up a bit to suit what I wanted to write. Hope it lives up to expectations 😁
Warnings: SMUT, 18+, Minors DNI, pussy slapping, fingering, p in v sex, mean Aemond, suggestions of a safe word, orgasm denial, name calling, Aemond creampies reader cos he wants lots of little heirs
You huff.
The sun had barely kissed the horizon to give way to the evening before you threw your embroidery to the floor, more angered than anything else. Another night. Another night where Aemond would not return to your marital chambers.
There were several excuses he made, all centering around his duties. Whether it was training, helping his grandfather, being at his mother’s beck and call or spending days with Helanea, more often than not these past weeks Aemond found more comfort in only returning to your chambers in the dead of night when you were already asleep.
Not only were you frustrated, you were hurt. Did he not realise how he was treating his wife? Yes, it had barely been four moons since the wedding and the first two moons had been heavenly. More often than not you were slotted against one another, tangled in the sheets with the heady stench of coupling in the air. But a moon or so ago, he completely flipped. Unconscious or not.
At first, you smiled at his explanations like the pliant wife you should be to a Targaryen prince. But now you felt you’d given him enough chances.
You were alone at court. Being neither a Targaryen nor acquainted properly with his sister and mother, there was no female company to preoccupy you. Day after day, it felt like you were just mindlessly existing, sewing pattern after pattern to fill the uncomfortable void that Aemond’s lack of presence left behind.
At first you thought that marrying him, bearing his heirs and living at court would be every woman’s dream. But it was quickly turning into something akin to limbo. How were you supposed to bear his heirs if he was never even around to see you? The whisperings were starting to whirl around at the lack of pregnancy. All of the critiques pointed at you.
So that was it. Fuck it.
You would give him something to be angry about. Anything, any emotion would do at this point. Just something from him to acknowledge your mere existence.
There was a perpetual frown on your face as you pulled the heavy cloak over you. You’d opted to change into a dress that did not explicitly show your status, thereby ridding you completely of jewels, all bar the ring that tied you to Aemond. It was a part of you now, and the thought of taking it off had not even crossed your mind.
With a light push of your hip against the painting in the corner of the room, the passageway opened up and the darkness and draught crept in. There was no hesitation, you were so angry. You pulled the hood up against your hair, though once you were out in the capital there was no need for it, no silver hair to cover. You were not like them and it was evident in the way Aemond had been so nonchalant to cast you aside for more important matters.
The sweet relief of the air of Kings Landing swept through your hair and over your skin and you sighed, pulling the hood down so it rested around your shoulders. Kings Landing was always an enigma to you. How so many people who looked so different, sounded so different, could all co-exist in such small quarters, shoulder to shoulder with their companions. It seemed so squished together. Some liked it. Some didn’t.
But it was different and that was certainly enough of an adventure, you were beginning to go mad counting all the tiles on the floor.
The sounds of laughter, anger and drunkenness filled the narrow streets. It was a warm evening so the majority of people were at their local alehouses, either making friends or enemies, it didn’t matter. You smiled as some of the ladies inside one alehouse were dancing, hand in hand with cups of ale in the other. It was spilling all over the floor, but it did not seem like they cared.
With a visible uncertainty that told everyone around you that you did not know what you were doing, you pushed through to one particular alehouse, smiling at the bartender. He was burly and well built, his mouth tight in a thin line, showing no warmth.
“What can I get ya?” he asked in the accent you’ve come to know as one the commoners.
With an attempt to lighten the air, you give him a smile, albeit an anxious one and take a seat at the bar.
“Just an ale, please” you say, trying to take the nervousness out of your voice. He raises an eyebrow to you, but pours a cup anyway, sliding it across the wetted bar counter to land in your hands.
The bartender braces the counter with his large arms, “I’ve never seen ya around these parts”
It catches you off guard a little when he tries to engage.
“I’m just passing through” you smile, taking a sip and wincing slightly at the bitter taste it leaves behind in your mouth. It coats your mouth differently compared to the dornish wines you’re used to.
His gaze flits to the wedding ring on your hand, staring for a few seconds before you clasp your other hand over it.
“Well keep your wits about you” he says, turning away to serve someone else.
You’re not quite sure how to take what he’s just said on board. So you simply turn to watch the rest of the patrons, enjoying the way they stumble over one another, laughing without a care in the world. The music is absolutely blaring and the man on the drums almost makes the very floors vibrate as he plays, and the man who sings has such a feminine voice it’s beautiful. You smile and clap along to the beat of the music, taking a sip of the ale every now and then.
What a life these people lead.
And it dawns on you why you are here. Because your husband no longer seems interested in you. And the clouds descend on your heart, dulling the shine that came out briefly when you watched these commoners go about their lives.
“Why the sad face, darlin’?”
A man materialises beside you and you jump back at his closeness. He smells of ale, but then again, so does everyone else you supposed. He had a drunken smile and could not have been older than thirty. Trying to not be impolite, you give a wry smile.
“I am fine, sir”
He props his ale on the bar, offering you a large hand, “dance with me?” he slurs.
If it’s possible, you press yourself further against the bar, trying to make it clear with your body language that the answer is no.
“Oh, no thank you”
As men do, drunk or not, he ignores you and pulls you up to your feet by your arm with an unusually firm grip. At first, you think how untoward it is for a man of his station to put his hands so forcibly on you. But you remembered where you were and who these people thought you were and quickly pushed the initial discomfort aside. In an attempt to still be polite, you quietly refuse him,
“I am fine, sir, please” you say, but to your dismay, he carries on and pulls you close to him.
“Don’t be like that, have fun!”
As fun as it was to watch, now you’re just getting annoyed, so you push against his chest, “Get off me” you try and say it forcefully, but it’s quiet.
He starts dancing, pulling your body flush with his. And a flash of red anger envelops you, your hands flat against his chest. But before you can, the door to the alehouse bursts open. Everyone seems to look over in sync, eyes landing on the figure who envelops the doorway with his form. The silhouette is visible even in the low light, how it bounces off his silver hair around his shoulders. And if anyone had any doubt, his eyepatch is firmly in place over his left eye, proving to everyone that it was indeed Aemond Targaryen.
He pokes his cheek with his tongue in annoyance as his eye lands on you. Using the man’s temporary shock at seeing the Prince to your advantage, you push him away, facing your husband face on, your face pink with anger. Ever the silent man, he doesn’t say anything for a moment and secures his gaze on the other man, who seems like he’s about to shit himself.
Aemond takes a few steps before he is standing tall before the man, his own gaze is averted, wide-eyed as if he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t.
“Give me one good reason” Aemond draws his sword, “why I should not cut you down where you stand” he says it lowly and you simply watch, wondering how far he will go to protect his pride. His wife.
“My Prince…I-I” the man starts, shaking where he stands. Briefly you look over to the bartender, who raises his eyebrows at you, as if to say you’re in for it.
“Answer me” Aemond hisses, his good eye trained at him.
“Aemond please..” you reach forward for his arm but he shrugs you off. For a second it squeezes your heart, but you realise that he is so deep in rage, it almost seems like he hasn’t heard you.
“You dare touch my wife in such a way” he says lowly. The man’s eyes widen and his pupils shake, and for a moment he looks back at you.
“Don’t look at her” he warns, gripping the sword tightly, “Look at me”
You look over them both to see the man has a large wet patch in front of his trousers, having soiled himself in fear of his own death. Shaking your head, you try again.
“Aemond” you say louder this time. And it seems to work, you’re on his good side, so all he has to do is turn slightly to meet your gaze. With your hand around his forearm, you shake your head, “Don’t”
The man falls to his knees before the prince, pleading his case, “Thank you, my lady! Please, my Prince, I did not realise!” his words are hurried and slurred. Aemond almost grimaces at the display and ponders the situation for a moment. And you can see the muscle in his jaw twitch, until he hums and turns away. He grips the fabric at your back to force you in front of him, almost tripping you over as he pulls you out of the alehouse.
The walk back to the passageways that connect the rooms of the Red Keep is quiet but quick, but it feels like a lifetime. No sooner has he pushed you through the door that leads to your marital chambers than you are babbling frantically.
“Aemond, I’m sorry, I tried to push him away but-”
“Take off your dress” he says bluntly. And it’s so calm it catches you off guard. His eye is staring blankly at you while he takes off his cloak.
“Aemond, wh-”
“Did you not hear me? Take off your fucking dress” he repeats.
The ice in his words makes your heart stutter a little. You’ve only seen this side of Aemond a handful of times in your short marriage, at least intimately anyway and the tone of his voice and the way he orders you makes a warm sensation settle in your belly, tugging below your belly button. Your limbs begin to tremble, both with anticipation and a little fear, this you cannot lie to yourself about.
You just stand there, shocked at his words and frozen in place when he walks up to you, invading your space with his wide and tall form.
“A-aemond, what-”
His face is stern when he speaks.
“You want to act like a slut, you’ll be treated like a slut”
He turns you around, body flush against your back and all but rips the cloak off your shoulders. There are no pre-emptive kisses, no warm touches of adoration. You just look at him and see pure, unadulterated lust. A desire, not only to take you as he sees fit, but to put you in your place for what you’d done. His words should offend you, but they only serve to increase that need between your thighs, which you push together for some friction.
He moves to the dress, the one he’d ordered for you to remove and rips it down the seam at the back, the threads make a scraping sound as they’re pulled apart roughly. His assault on the fabric continues as he pushes it over your bare hips, your body reacting to the cold air that hits your already wet cunt.
“Pathetic” he spits as he grips your hair, tugging slightly on them at the crown. He pulls you up and you whine out as it hurts at first, but almost instantly contributes to the wetness between your legs, “Does my pathetic little wife want to be punished?” he asks lowly.
For a second, you wonder if it’s a strange question for him to ask, but then you realise he’s giving you an out if you need it. If you feel uncomfortable. And he stands still at your back, waiting for the answer.
Swallowing dryly, you breathe, “Yes…”
You swear you feel him tense up behind him, as if he’s thinking of all the ways he might punish you. And it is here that you’re aware of his length, hot and hard against your soft backside. The anticipation flutters in your stomach.
“Yes what”
Oh Gods, you think. Anxiety wracks your body.
“Yes, my prince”
“Good”
His flaming touch disappears from your bare skin for a moment, moving to the buttons of his tunic, undoing them with alarming calmness.
“Lay on the bed. Don’t make me ask twice”
Not one to poke an already angry dragon, you obey. Sitting in the middle of the bed, with your legs pushed together you look up to watch your husband. His eye never leaves you and it shocks you just how stoic he is right now with the clear bulge underneath his breeches. Most of the time, he would make love to you slowly, lovingly. Only on the off chance would he indulge in primal carnal desires, asking you to call him ‘my prince’ and denying you your peak when he’d deemed you too greedy.
He shrugged his tunic off his shoulders and disposed of his underneath, allowing his pale chest exposure to the slightly cold air of your chambers.
“Spread your legs for me”
You swallow dryly at his instruction, the lack of emotion in them and in his eye sends a bolt of humiliation straight to core, and you feel yourself get shamefully wet, as if you already had not been.
Leaning back on your elbows, taking a few breaths to calm your nerves, your ankles splay out, revealing what lies between those pretty thighs for your husband to shamefully observe. The shameful warmth in your belly makes you want to shut your eyes, to spare yourself the judgement of Aemond’s gaze, but you know just as well he will punish you for that too if you do.
He calmly undoes the laces to his breeches, almost sighing in relief when his cock, hard and desperate for attention, springs free of their confines. He uses his hand to give it one or two pumps, and it prods against his stomach with the force of how hard it is. His eye is focussed entirely on your cunt and cunt alone, standing there. And you feel yourself staring too much as his pretty cock, the tip pink and weeping now that he’s allowed himself to touch it briefly.
“Do you see that?” he asks, “Do you see what you do to me?” he says,
And you hope to all the Gods that it’s rhetorical, because you barely heard what he said, too busy imagining all the ways he would impale you.
Even though he’s naked and clearly desperate for any touch, he stalks over to the bed with shocking control. His hands wrap around your ankles and pull, dragging your legs over the bed and planting them on either side of his thighs. You yelp in surprise at the sudden action and the feeling of your legs touching his bare thighs is enough to send another gush of arousal through you.
You know just as well to be quiet until he speaks directly, and definitely not to touch yourself. That part is reserved for him.
“Remind me of our word, wife” he almost spits that word, as if all he saw before him was a petulant whore.
“Dracarys”
He merely nods, widening his legs so as to widen your own, giving himself a good view of your achingly wet cunt before him. Both of his hands move to grip your thighs, leaving red marks in their wake that now feel like they’re the most dangerous thing about him. He almost kneads the flesh in his calloused palms, watching the way your breath hitches when his fingers graze that delicate space between your legs and hips.
“You vex me to no end” he says and you feel the goosebumps on your arms at the tone of voice.
“I apologise, husband-”
“Oh I will have my apology” he muses, “When I want it”
A shudder envelops your body when his long, slender fingers run up the puffy folds of your cunt, slipping them between the lips there to brush against the wettened pearl hidden beneath. The sheer sound it makes is embarrassing enough, but the way he barely even touches that little bundle of nerves and the reaction you give, is the most embarrassing thing about it all.
Knowing not to touch him, your fists clench the bedsheets at your sides. Aemond chuckles,
“Is this how sensitive my little wife is?” he muses, his fingers collecting the wetness there that was a pure result of his unkind words to you. And when one finger prods at the slick hole of your entrance, you gasp. “Maybe I should punish you more often…if you are as wet as this before I’ve barely even touched you”
Two fingers circle the entrance, the pads of his fingers now entirely slick with your arousal, while his thumb rubs lazy circles at your clit. And you wonder for a moment, how exactly this is punishment. But it’s far too early to be thinking like that.
“I wonder what sounds my pretty little whore can make” he murmurs as he prods two fingers inside you only barely, making your eyes shut tight, but he doesn’t move them further than that.
“Open your eyes”
Pink at the cheeks with sheer humiliation, you do as he says without another word to see his other hand is stroking his cock at a languid pace. You almost whimper, it should be you touching him like that…not himself.
Rewarding you briefly, he tucks two of his fingers as deep as they will go inside your waiting heat, grinning widely at the sound it makes. All breath seems to be stolen from your lungs when his fingers expertly brush against that rough spot within you and it takes all your strength to merely keep your eyes open to look up at him. Gods he looks so happy with himself right now. Knowing all your spots.
But you never thought he’d use that information like this.
It was kind of…thrilling.
The combination of his words, the deep humiliation and his roughened nature, you feel your peak approaching embarrassingly fast. Your breath shudders in your chest and hands fist more of the bedsheets, needing somewhere to place this feeling. And Aemond seems more than willing right now to let you indulge in the euphoric feeling, your climax hurtling towards you at an alarming pace.
As soon as the thought enters your head, his fingers are gone and you jolt with a squeal when he delivers a firm smack straight to your cunt. Without meaning to, you whimper, both at the loss of his thick fingers tucked within you and also at the burning desire for him to do what he’d just done again.
Your brows furrow as you look up at him, his smirk now long gone, replaced with that same flat and stoic expression from earlier
“It wouldn’t be much of a punishment if I let you peak, now would it?”
Oh.
So that was his plan.
A flash of fear runs across your face, but most of it is the frustration of not knowing exactly how he intends to toy with you further.
He raises his fingers to your mouth, prodding at your lips, chuckling darkly at the confused expression you wear on your face, “Go on, clean up the mess you made”
You suck on the two digits he offers you, not only tasting the essence of your own heat, but covering them with your spit, hoping that your effort right now in obeying him will prove beneficial to you later. If he was feeling generous, that is.
In this moment, with that cruel, dark look in his eye, you honestly were not sure.
“Good…” his tone is almost soft here, appreciating the way your tongue glides over his fingers.
For a moment it makes you feel safe.
Aemond pulls his fingers from your mouth, reaching up with his other hand to pull his eyepatch off. You had been married long enough for you to have seen it before, but even now, it still renders you speechless every time you see it. The way it glimmers against the flames of the hearth, sitting comfortably in his empty eye socket. You often thought it beautiful, even before being wed to him.
But now, as he discards it to the floor and looks down at you, it almost takes on a gaze of its own. And it only strengthens that anticipation deep within your gut.
The fingers, now wet with your spit, run over your slick folds again, now sensitive from the denied release.
“So wet still…” he whispers, “...I did not know I had such a needy whore for a wife”
You moan out loud at how mean he’s being right now, coupled with the intense burning touch.
“Aemond…please…” you breathe. You wouldn’t have realised your slip up until he gives another wet smack to your pussy once again. Another jolt of pleasure runs through you, making your thighs tremble with desire and he seems pleased when you make a surprised sound.
He reaches down and runs his thick shaft against your slit, collecting the wetness that has pooled there since his torture on your body. Your chest is wracked with heavy breaths, wishing that he’d just break and fuck you already. But if Aemond was anything, he was patient. He was more than happy to wait if it meant you were a whining, moaning mess beneath him. The fat head of his cock barely sinks beneath your swollen lips, kissing against your clit as he brushes it up which only serves to make your body jolt once again.
“Hm…” goes the deep rumble in his chest, “...I don’t think that’s what I told you to call me…”
“Please…I’m sorry, my prince…” you’re just begging at this point, the previous resolve you did have is now dwindling quickly.
“See? It’s not hard is it?”
He uses his cock to torture your core further, dipping the head of it between your lips to prod against your readied entrance, ready and willing to accept his length. But he pulls it away once again, only to repeat the motions, chuckling at the effect it has on you.
“What do you want, wife?”
Your face is pink and desperate, and you so badly want to tell him to just fuck you senseless right now. Play along, just play along…you think. Surely he can’t hold back forever.
“I want you inside me…” you manage between ragged breaths as he keeps dipping his cock against your hole.
“Beg for it”
You let out a frustrated whine when his thumb simply rests on your clit, not moving an inch.
“Come on, beg for it” he grins widely. He looks so pleased with himself you want to make a comment on it, but your body just wants him so deep inside you you can’t think straight.
“Please…my prince…please fuck me…” you can feel the frustration hot on your cheeks, bubbling up into tears glazing your eyes.
It’s too much. So much so that you think if he doesn’t thrust deep inside and move his thumb against your clit, you might just die.
“Such foul language, princess”
He gives his shaft a few more strokes, letting the bright red tip, aching to be buried inside your wet, waiting cunt, breach your entrance just slightly.
You can feel the relief, it’s so close, all he has to do is push forward…
“Eyes on me now” he instructs lowly.
Your mouth falls open, and a sigh of relief empties your lungs when he slowly sheathes himself within you. He is eerily calm and collected, a stark contrast to how you are holding back at this very moment. The sheer sound of your arousal enveloping him seems to make him smile, until he is fully seated to the hilt, the tip kissing your cervix.
You do as you are told, eyes on him the entire time, eyes glassy in relief at the feeling of just being completely full of him. He’s always been one for seeing his wife is satisfied, and so seeing the look on your face, his eyes glimmer in pride.
To your surprise, he starts a pace, albeit slow, but a pace nonetheless. Only quiet breathy sounds are heard from your mouth, and you think (stupidly) that you are safe. You start to indulge in the feeling of his erection continuously sinking into you, rocking your hips slightly against him to increase the pace somewhat.
And you are embarrassingly close. The ache of the previous denied release never fully went away, and it creeps up from the depths to fizzle at the surface once more, just aching for speed, for roughness, for anything but this torture. You feel every vein, every stroke, every angle of his hips, and it only makes you want more.
And then he stops and jolts you back when he presses his thumb forcefully against your clit, but not enough to truly hurt.
“Say the words” he orders, his tone flat and unforgiving.
Surely the Aemond you know is caring, loving even, is still there…right?
“Say the words, and I might let you peak tonight”
You swallow, stilling your hips as much as it pains you. The force of holding back makes your thighs tremble, evident in the low light of the room.
“…my prince?...”
His large, calloused hand wraps around your neck, shocking you in the most arousing way possible. His cock is inside you to the hilt and this should definitely not be turning you on as much as it is, and yet you feel another gush of your essence coat your thighs, betraying how you really feel. His fingers curl around it so effortlessly, and he only squeezes a little. He is so calculated in his movements, it’s almost frightening.
“Don’t give me ‘my prince’” he mocks, “I want your apology. Now”
Without even thinking, the pain of him not moving and stilling his hips too great, tears prick at your eyes as you babble an apology,
“I am sorry, husband, I truly am! I was foolish to go out on my own. Forgive me”
His fingers curl around your neck just that tiny bit more and he has that wolfish grin on his face once more, clearly enjoying the way he is able to bring you to this pathetic little mess of a wife he must see you as now.
“Yes, it was foolish” he says, so nonchalantly, as if he isn’t fully inside you right at this moment, “I thought my wife was an intelligent woman. And yet here she is mewling and crying with her husband’s cock inside of her, begging to be forgiven”
You swallow around his hand in nervousness, seeing the way his iris is blown so wide with lust he almost does not look human at all. Perhaps they were right. When they say Targaryens are closer to gods than men. Because here, using you for his own cruel means, it is both gorgeous and terrifying, as Gods should be.
Tears prick at your eyes and you worry that if you blink they will fall. All you can focus on is his hand around your neck, every vein in his cock pulsing with desire deep inside you, and your walls squeezing him to try and ease him back into fucking you.
In a quiet breathy voice, you mewl, “husband…please…”
He chuckles when he sees how you are holding your pretty tears back, “Why are you crying, hm? Do I need to punish you again?” he smirks, “I could just stay like this…”
“No, no…please…”
“Then tell me what you want, wife” he sneers,
You finally allow yourself to blink and the tears stream down your cheeks.
“I want you…to fuck me…husband…” you say between breaths.
His tongue pokes at his cheek, as if he’d been waiting all day to hear that.
Aemond pushes your body back further onto the bed, his own knees coming to rest on it, and you whimper, his cock shoved only briefly further into you, kissing your cervix. It provides a little relief.
And your husband smiles widely as he takes your hips in both hands and brings them to rest against his waist. And he’s not moved yet, but purely the change of angle makes the head of his cock kiss against that rough patch within.
Smirking, he starts at a slow pace once more, and you cry at the relief of it. It’s slow, not at all the quick, brutal pace you need, but it’s something.
He all but laughs at your blissed out expression, taking in the glassy, glazed over look in your eyes.
“Who am I to deny my little wife?” he says.
And every nerve is your body is on fire when his thumbs dig into your hips and he finally just fucks you, in the way he knows you always like to be fucked. Your body goes slack as his hips snap against yours and the only sound in the room is the erotic slap of your bodies against each other. Every now and then Aemond curses under his breath at the force of which your walls clamp down on him.
All the teasing he’d done had done little to quell that impending release that you so desperately needed, and you could feel it form painfully in your stomach, wound up so tight and fit to burst.
“Gods…Aemond…” you breathe.
He presses one of his palms on your stomach, to feel the presence of himself there within you. Your body reacts on its own, bucking up into him as it pushes that sweet spot against his cock. He leans over, still keeping up that brutal pace and you can feel his hair against your chest, his breath on your neck.
His teeth graze over the delicate skin where he once has his entire hand choking you, “Fuck…your cunt feels amazing…” he whispers against you, “...I know you are close…”
A whimper teases its way out of your throat. Fuck, he can read your body like a book. Knows it far too well.
Knowing he is right, he presses harder against your stomach, squeezing you around his cock inside you as he pistons mercilessly into your cunt, the lewd sound of your arousal only aiding your peak. And it’s the mere whisper of a touch of his thumb across your throbbing clit that drives you over the edge.
“Fuck…” you breathe as your body grows rigid, hands still fisted hard within the sheets. Your muscles tremble and your cunt clenches around him, to which he lets out an uncharacteristically loud moan straight into your ear.
And you expect him to follow suit, but he simply keeps fucking you through it, intent to prolong this little death.
“Aem..nd…I can’t..” you beg.
Your first orgasm is barely gone before your stomach winds painfully again and he chuckles again, deeply and low against your body. In a rather sweet gesture, he leaves open-mouthed kisses against your neck and jaw, a stark contrast to the sweet torture he is performing against your sex.
“You can…give me another and I will fuck my seed into you…”
Your eyes screw shut. And there’s not enough words to describe the utter destruction your body feels it is going under, and you feel yourself fall apart more and more with each erotic slap of his balls against you.
“I’ve got you princess…that’s it…let go…”
Finally, your hands fly up from the sheets to clamour at his skin, needing to touch him all over. It’s a mess. His mouth fights against yours, biting at your swollen lower lip to draw the faintest bit of blood. All the while his cock is impaling your cunt at breakneck speed, chasing his release while yours just builds and builds…
Your fingers dig into his arms painfully as your second climax rolls over you. It’s loud and immense and you swear for a moment you are lost to the world, the only thing grounding you being the sound of Aemond’s low grunts as he chases his own release.
He gives several rough, deep thrusts, making sure to shove his seed as deep inside you as it will go before he finally stills above you, rested on his forearms either side of your head.
After what feels like a lifetime, feeling his cock continue to twitch within you, you crack open your eyes. You’ll never tire of seeing him like this. Fucked out with his hair damp against his temples, the muscles of his body contracting as he breathes heavily.
Idly, your fingers draw circles on his back. And it’s so soft and gentle that he shudders a little, picking himself up to look down at you. There he is. The husband you know and love.
You brush the back of your fingers against his face, the marred side. And his sapphire eye glints back at you.
“I am sorry, wife” he says suddenly.
Your movements cease, looking at him questioningly. But you do not question it.
“I have neglected you these past weeks” he confesses, as if being able to read you so well, “it has been unconsciously done…but it is no excuse.
I am sorry”
You’re a bit…stunned? If anything.
Aemond had always been proud. Proud of his heritage. Proud of his abilities. His talents.
He had never been one to admit his faults.
So for a moment his words hang in the air, until you find your voice again.
“Aemond…” you say, reaching up to his face. He sighs into your touch, “...I believe we have both been foolish. I am sorry also, for the anxiety I must have caused you”
He shakes his head softly.
“I only wished to get a reaction from you” you say, “But I am truly sorry for worrying you”
He huffs at that, looking down briefly to where you are still joined, “Perhaps you should do that more often” he jokes, and you swat his shoulder playfully.
His kiss is tender and he leans down, “shall we make up for lost time, Princess?” he asks.
You cock your head playfully as his hands glide over your torso to slide over your breast, squeezing gently.
“I’ll have you full of my heirs by daybreak” he growls.
You giggle at that, bringing him in for another kiss, “I look forward to it, my prince”
#aemond targaryen#prince aemond#Aemond x Reader#aemond x you#aemond x oc#aemond smut#aemond targaryen x reader#Aemond the Kinslayer#aemond targaryen smut#prince aemond targaryen#prince aemond targaryen smut#prince aemond targaryen fic#prince aemond x you#aemond imagine#aemond stannies#aemond fanfiction#aemond one eye#aemond x reader#aemond fic#aemond angst#aemond fluff
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Begging for a Breaking.
You've never been that of a beggar for Spencer, but you’re not about to back down now.
Warnings: Sub Spencer, Dom reader, handjob, touching through clothes, cumming in boxers, overstimulation, begging, crying, sobbing, ropes, all consensual.
WC: 1.0K
Cruelly tapping up the side of his soaking shaft, you smile up at Spencer even though you know he wouldn’t be able to return the favor. There’s a muggy layer of sweat that lays upon his skin, and an absolute flood of cum in his drenched boxers.
A small pool of spend had gathered in the fabric of his underwear and dwelled in the cavern of his spread and shaking thighs, creating a sticky mess of the past three orgasms you’ve coaxed out of the poor man in front of you.
If not for the messily tied rope that bound his ankles to the chair he sat upon, he would’ve thrashed out of his confines and ran for the hills, begging you not to touch him ever again. Spencer was simply lost in pleasure as your nimble fingers made their way across pulsing veins and thick semen.
When he finally opens his eyes to the unfortunate sight and feel of you rubbing him through his boxers once more, you tilt your head to the side and put on your best act to show him you were just as desperate as he was, but in an entirely different way.
"Just one more, please? Can't you do that for me baby?"
Your voice was low and wishful as the palm of your hand came in contact with the rubbed raw tip of his poor abused cock. Convulsing in his spot, Spencer practically jumps away at the feel and shakes his head frantically in a desperate attempt to get you to show him some sliver of mercy.
"You know I can't do that.."
He whines pitfully, moving his hips back as much as he can away from you, but to no avail. You continue to move the flat surface of your palm against the wet gooey feeling of his load, spreading it around and creating even more of a disgusting and filthy mess.
As he continued to cry out, you just ignored the pained noises that were forced from his raw throat. He wanted this as much as you did, if not more.
“Why not? I thought you wanted to be a good boy for me.. What happened to that?”
Guilt seeped into the man’s veins, pumping along the never ending supply of arousal that just couldn't leave him alone no matter how hard it hurt. Snapping his gaze down to you with his eyebrows drawn close, he shakes his head again and babbles out apologies and excuses, none of which you want to hear.
“I-I am a good boy.. I already finished three times, isn’t that enough?”
Pouting and clicking your tongue, your free hand grabs his dick at the rock hard base, a lewd squishing noise making itself known as you squeezed a little harder than you should’ve. Spencer whimpered in pain and his legs jolted together in an attempt to close.
“I want more, Spence. Cum for me, please?”
While one hand absolutely massacred his overly sensitive head, the other squeezed at the base and teased at his balls, making a sickly feeling in the pit of his stomach come to life as his pitiful used body tried its hardest to produce something or anything that would make you proud.
Tears sprung to the brunet's eyes as he threw his head back in frustration. Your touch was too much but not nearly enough to get him to finish again, and it twisted his heart to even think about the possibility of you being disappointed in him.
“I-I can’t.. I can’t do it. Pl-Please.. I’m sorry.”
Spencer sobbed out, choking on his own words and tasting the salt of his tears as he felt himself going numb with pleasure and total overstimulation.
“No.. I believe you can do it, Spence. Come on, please? For me?”
He bleats pathetically at your begging, not used to you being the one pleading for him. It conjured up something confusing in his brain and more evidently his cock, and despite being seemingly drained for all he was worth, his jaw drops in a mix of an agonizing groan and a pained whimper.
“Fuck–no..no.”
Warmth spurted from under your palm and wetted the already doused undergarment, a cruel smile springing on your face at the absolute agony you’ve put him in. His chest heaves in labored breaths, almost as if he traded in every other function in his body just to be able to finish for you at this moment.
His cock twitched in your hold as you wouldn’t let up and continued to wring at his length, you wanted to make sure he was completely empty, milked for everything and nothing his pathetic little body would grant you.
Spencer’s groans seized when he realized your hands were still on him somehow, and he began shaking his head so quickly you’d be surprised all the blood hadn’t already left his brain. Hot tears streamed down his flushed face as he started to let out gut wrenching sobs,
“N-No, no.. No more please I-I can’t take it..”
And in an instant you released him from your hold and backed up away from the husk of a man that sat before you. Shaking, whimpering, crying, he had it all after having everything taken from him.
His cum dripped from the darkened fabric and joined the sticky webs that formed between his legs and pelvis, a sight to behold, to put it lightly. Your hands reach out gently to grab at the waistband of his underwear, and you stop yourself from laughing at the way his body flinches at the lightest touch.
Pulling down his boxers, you let his messy cock slap against his stomach, forcing an embarrassed whimper out of him. Tip a mean shade of red, veins pumping faster than his heart, and a still embarrassingly hard shaft that might as well had grown a second skin with how much of his release coated his length.
“Look at you.. You must want more, hm?”
Spencer’s eyes widened before you could even finish your sentence and cut you off with a firm refusal that no he did not want more.
Chuckling in a cruel and cold tone, you flick his cockhead and bite your tongue when the tiniest gush of cum shot out of him, much to your surprise.
Arching your eyebrow you look up at the man, whose face shows nothing but terror and desperation, and you find yourself relishing in the torment. In a sickly sweet voice, you beckon him.
“One more, baby. Please?”
#spencer reid#spencer x reader#spencer reid smut#criminal minds#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x reader smut#sub spencer reid#sub spencer x reader#sub!spencer#sub spencer reid x reader#sub spencer#sub spencer reid smut#sub spencer reid x reader smut
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blessed (satoru x fem & afab! reader)
contents: breeding cursed technique fic, dead dove do not eat!(reader's technique is basically for conceiving strong babies), arranged marriage, stockholm syndrome, he's your second cousin so incest, explicit nasty smut & breeding, pregnancy, misogynistic society, crybaby reader, satoru is sweet ultimately, ominous but happy ending, weird montage of sex scenes + the past + the present, 3.8 k words
18+ pls MDNI!
Divine fertility.
It’s gross—somewhere inside your brain (in a locked filing cabinet, underneath a false drawer and written in invisible ink), you’re conscious of the fact that it’s gross.
Your technique, its consequences, your life; everything you’ve been born unto is filth cloaked in blessings, but, on principle, you don’t allow yourself to look at things objectively. Disgust would only make things miserable and you’re designed to be happy.
Blessed with a cursed technique to conceive, you’ve always had a role and it’s never been disputable—one of producing heirs. Your life was planned from the moment you were born, a whole future tied in a neat little bow—you’re lucky. That’s what everyone’s always promised.
You’ve been told how happy you are so much that the words have seeped into your skull—you’ve long since found peace with Divine Fertility and what it means.
More than that.
You want to be bred so badly it aches.
You can’t go huge lengths of time untouched. You grow volatile when you’re empty too long, a weakness that chains you to your betrothed’s bed. But you’re most useful that way anyways. Hormonal and needy, but certain to pass your partner’s techniques—actually you’re more than useful as a clan member, you’re honored. Enough to marry the strongest man alive—your second cousin in your own clan.
Whether you’ve always known it or not, you’ve always lived for Gojo Satoru.
“Do not come in Ijichi—fuck! Not…not right now.”
Gojo stands a foot away from his bed when he says this, clothes half on while you kneel at his feet, sucking him absolutely dry. That’s as far as he was able to get this morning before you were trying to lure him back to you, looking up at him with giant, glassy eyes while you tugged the waistband of his boxers. He wasn’t about to turn you down.
“Ngh your mouth feels so perfect. Wanna fuck it…”
You pull back with a gasp, catching air wherever you can get it with your fiancé’s suffocating girth, nodding while you pump him in your hands. Your lips are spread for him then so he can thrust through them himself, staring down at your teary eyes while he sets a rhythm down your throat.
You’re quickly gagging, he’s thick but also long and he’ll choke you if you’re not careful. But the relief he brings is worth it. Your craving for him didn't let up this morning even after a creampie and some cockwarming—this is just what you needed.
He throws his head back when he’s getting close, fingers gripping at your hair but careful not to tug, and he does this cute little whine that has your pussy throbbing. So you touch yourself, too—some fingers to your clit in little circles have you toppling over the edge just in time to match your fiancé, swallowing his milky cum while his last batch leaks down your thighs, mixed with your own release.
He’s panting when you pull away, eyes open but unfocused while the fog in his brain clears, his hand stroking your head absentmindedly. When he finally comes back to earth, he finds you’ve pulled his boxers up for him but remain clinging to his leg, squishing a cheek against his hip while fingers trace his inner thigh.
He breathes out a little hooo.
“Did so good for me, pretty. Okay. Now I really gotta go.”
He tries to take a step but you don’t budge, so he bends to see you better, making an expression of dumbfounded horror when he sees you’re crying.
“Hey, hey—I’ll be back! What’s with the tears!”
You sniffle while his big hands wipe at your face, frantic as he tries to make you better. Ijichi’s pacing footsteps are heard outside the door.
“I don’t know, it just feels so—sniff—bad when you leave sometimes! I still want more of you!”
Gojo frowns at that, rubbing your head some more. There’s a knock at the door which he ignores.
“Baby… I want more of you too, but you know I gotta go. No days off when you’re the strongest. Can you be my tough girl, just a few hours?”
You nod, your breaths calming. What is getting into you? Apparently your separation anxiety can’t even let your fiancé go to work without a break down. It takes you a minute to connect the dots and realize you’re likely ovulating—your hormones can make you a little crazy sometimes.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
“My pretty baby wants to be a mommy so bad, huh?”
“I do! I really do, Satoru!” Your voice is a sob. Satoru has been going at it since the moment he came home today—told the maids to leave him alone, locked his door and folded you into the mattress.
“Gonna make me a daddy?” You clench automatically—just like Satoru knew you would.
“Ye—ah! Wanna have your babies, need to give you babies so bad, daddy!”
Your neck is craned as far back into the pillows as it can go, your entire body curling in ecstasy from your cousin’s heavy thrusting. Your words have his movements turning frantic, your legs folded up by his shoulders so your silver anklet with his name on it can jingle by his ear. Satoru lifts you then, utilizing his ridiculous strength and huge hands to pull your hips higher where his cock can split you easier. He starts hitting so deep you see stars.
Your head tends to scramble and slow when he fucks you like this, eyes barely open, blindly clinging to the man you were born to cling to while he makes a home for himself near your womb. It’s hard to focus on him like you want to, but if you did you’d see eyes drunk on lust and power…
Satoru Gojo can be a greedy man. Spoiled, too—He usually already owns what he covets and never waits long for things he doesn’t. But even the world at his fingertips, you at his fingertips, doesn’t fully sait that want like most would expect. For example, as much as Satoru owns you, he doesn’t feel he really has you until your body’s fucked out of commission in his grip, eyes blank and stupid while your cunt spasms around him, milking his cock for everything he has.
This is when he’s got you, he thinks. This is when you’re his, like putty in his fingers, warmed up and malleable. This is when everything’s how it’s really supposed to be.
The two of you don’t come out of satoru’s room the entire rest of the night, except when Satoru darts his hands out of his doorway to grab trays of food the servants dropped by. It’s exhausting the way you’re used, body split and bent and bruised so that satoru’s seed can take root, but it’s also addicting. You beg for more of him, latch any remaining strength onto his limbs while you cry out his name. Satoru’s cock is addictive in a natural way—stronger than any drugs. Your betrothed’s cock is addicting like food and water and air… sometimes it’s the only thing that makes you feel alive.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
Today marks the day you’re officially seven months pregnant.
Despite the fact that your technique has you strong and glowing (this is what you were made for, everyone continues to insist), you spend much of your time in mild discomfort. You get the feeling satoru’s passed his ridiculously long legs to his baby, who’s adamant in kicking you constantly, plus your lower back is often sore.
Still, you go about your daily life as normal—lounging, eating, making infinite baby preparations and, of course, waiting for satoru to come home so he can fuck you.
Lately your husband is the ultimate harbinger of gifts and treats—your pregnancy has been the opposite of helpful towards satoru’s impulse spending habits, not that it’s too great a concern with the family’s bottomless wealth. He rarely comes home empty handed. Today, he’s brought a teensy yellow beanie he apparently stumbled upon at a shop and some artisan ikigai strawberries—a favorite of yours amidst pregnancy cravings—satoru’s encouraging his child’s expensive taste that’s for sure.
You’re currently spooning in bed to enjoy them, watching a cheesy hallmark movie while satoru feeds you bites—he’s focusing much more on you than the movie.
Honestly, he doesn’t seem to focus on much else when he’s home at all… he finds pregnant you to be more than captivating. It’s like he could watch you day and night, doing the most mundane tasks to nothing at all—in his own words he’s fascinated by how precious you manage to be. Eyes following you like you’re the most engrossing little thing, cooing to himself when you’re particularly cute. It reminds you of how you used to treat your pet cat growing up.
You’ve gotten used to the excessive attention and coddling—it’s not like you’d ever mind a little clinging, nor was satoru’s babying completely foreign in the first place. So you let him feed you without comment, enjoy his hands wandering over your belly and curves without fanfare.
This process quickly gets messy though; red juice keeps dripping from the corner of your mouth towards your pillow only to be saved in the nick of time by satoru’s quick fingers, reaching around to wipe at your cheek again and again, having you lick his fingers clean for him each time he does. Things get even messier once he gets the bright idea to split each berry, biting before offering you the other half.
“I like sharing with you, this way neither of us miss the best ones.” He says with his mouth partially full, reaching down to pop part of a berry into your mouth. You hum, mostly engrossed in your film, managing not to drool this time.
But the next bite of berry he performs directly over your neck, dripping juice directly onto your skin when he does.
“Hey!” You start to turn but he holds you in place on your side, darting down to lick up the spill with his tongue.
You whine when he does, sensitive skin set ablaze by your lover’s mouth.
The movie is forgotten when things easily pick up from there—things easily pick up between the two of you, period. It’s not even your first time having sex today, you took his cock first thing in the morning after a particularly needy grinding display.
But this time it’s extra slow, extra attentive—like Gojo’s savoring you to the fullest extent. The berries are an added component, dripping sweet juice on your skin once gojo fully undresses you, only for him to lick and suck and kiss you clean. Your pussy has his attention then for what feels like eternity, your husband’s soft lips kissing and kissing and kissing like he needs to clean your juices there too. You cum so easily—you always have, but pregnant and sensitive like this your rate is almost ridiculous. Satoru, adoring as he’s been lately, doesn’t even tease, just savors. Dotes and flexes his cuteness aggression through his careful arms. He’s cautious with that—his urge to squeeze you—thinks he ought to get a medal for the self control he has to be soft. He caresses and pets like you’re a newborn yourself, fucking you just as thoughtfully.
You’d only been alive ten short months the day the earth shifted upon Satoru’s birth. Of course you don’t remember it, but you know intimately well the way your own path was no exception to his influence. You were already confirmed to have a fertility technique, almost as rare as the six eyes themselves, when the strongest sorcerer of your time was born—the match up was obvious. You were groomed for it until his parents said yes, and then only more intensely once they did.
And as much as you love Satoru, as much as you’d live for him and die for him and anything in between—it was sometimes hard. You had to grow to love him, to accept his power over you.
Because among the list of cons to a lifetime betrothal—a lifetime of devotion in your case—was that Satoru always knew you were his. You had an owner at the ripe age of seven, aged six and a half.
And, unbelievable as it may be in hindsight, at times he was a tyrant.
Tugging and clinging and pushing—at first he had as much respect for you as a child might for a cheap toy (the kind their well-off parents taught them were replaceable).
And there wasn’t much you could do about it besides grieve and sulk—your parents didn’t let you talk back how you wanted, and Satoru wasn’t above tattling.
You didn’t dare wish for a different husband—what with how lucky everyone insisted you were, but at times you’d wonder. What would it be like to be assigned someone polite and thoughtful, like satoru’s friend he brought around the estate from time to time…
Suguru never really got to know you enough to form an opinion on your character. It was rare he visited the extravagant Gojo estate in the first place, and when he did, Satoru often gave the impression that he wanted to keep you private. It was clear you were a permanent fixture on those grounds—just another layer to Satoru’s mystifying lifestyle. You were a complete contrast to Suguru’s friend, all reserved and polite; the only thing you really inspired Geto to feel was pity.
Gojo was a little shit as a kid—still is in many ways—and sometimes even Geto himself couldn’t stand him. But Suguru’s always had a backbone. There was a reason he was capable of maintaining best friend status with the strongest sorcerer alive while others couldn’t (or wouldn’t) get close—and it’s that Geto knew how to tell Satoru off. He could see through Gojo’s dramatics and put him in his place—something you clearly had not mastered.
Geto saw your lenience first hand the first day Satoru tried to have the three of you hangout, watching in fascination as you protested, gave in, and then were immediately reprimanded for sneaking into a forbidden wing of the Gojo estate. Satoru got a mild scolding, a barely-there stern edge to the maid’s voice who caught the three of you—telling him that he knew better and that he had to think about his future wife’s safety as well as his own. You got a cold glare when the maid set sights on you, a tug of your wrist to your room where it was clear you’d go on to get a firm lesson on obedience.
Once you were gone, Suguru spoke to Satoru in a hushed tone. “I feel kinda bad your girlfriend’s getting locked up now. Aren’t you gonna do something?”
“She’s not my girlfriend, asshole!”
“You’re getting married someday. Same thing.”
“It’s totally different. But whatever, yeah, I feel a little bad too. Probably I’ll break her out of her room later,” Geto watched Gojo absentmindedly pick a fuzz off his shirt—not a care in the world before he perked up to add, “Right now let’s play tekken.”
And they did, but soon Geto brought you up again. This was the first time he’d met you, and really begun conceptualizing the situation Gojo was in—he couldn’t imagine being tied to someone like that at his ripe and girlfriend-less age of thirteen. The idea fascinated him.
“What’s it like, living with ___?”
“It’s fine,” Satoru sighed, going back and forth between different characters to try. “She’s annoying—got some needy physical touch technique so she’s always clinging to me in my sleep, it’s honestly creepy. But it’s fine.”
This took Geto moment to process…
“You sleep in the same bed?!” He put his controller down at that point, fully engrossed.
“Yeah, ‘cause of her technique she’s like, unable to sleep alone basically. It’s weird. But other than that she’s fine I guess—a little slow. Her parents won’t even put her in school.”
Suguru could think of so many questions he didn’t even know where to start.
But what stood out most was how Satoru remained calm about the whole thing, at peace even.
“Have you tried fighting it? Didn’t you say your mom does whatever you want? Tell her no.”
Satoru waved a lazy hand at Suguru before he even finished talking.
“That wouldn’t work, ___ would just get betrothed to someone else, then. Her parents really want that for her. ‘Sides, she’s mine, Y’know? Even if she’s a weirdo it’s not like I’d give her away.”
It’s been years now since Suguru Geto has seen you last—he hasn’t been back to the Gojo estate since before his enrollment in jujutsu tech. He’s changed a lot since his starry-eyed youth, and he vaguely wonders what it will be like to see you again, if you’ve changed as well; over the years he’s found that his friend prefers to bring you up as little as possible, so he hasn’t had many updates. Though his primary focus is on the man he’s escorting, a dizzy and bleeding Gojo Satoru who managed to get hit by a scorpion curse while they were messing around on their mission. Gojo insisted on heading home after, despite shoko’s offer to provide more thorough reversed technique than his own, frowning but easily relenting when Suguru insisted on at least helping him get there.
It’s late, not even staff around to notice as Suguru tugs Gojo along, supporting half the man’s weight through the threshold and fumbling to find light switches as he enters new rooms. But then you emerge, and Suguru can’t pick his jaw up off the ground when you do, this heavily pregnant girl in a frilly nightgown and bare feet, storming in with tears absolutely pouring down her face. After one heartfelt “Satoru!” you can’t manage to get out a single sentence you’re crying so hard, and Suguru watches the most mystifying thing: Satoru comforts you. His unserious asshole of a best friend (he thinks with fondness in his heart), a man who’s long since lost the will to show vulnerability in even the most gut-wrenching moments—Suguru watches as he meets you with this sympathetic, earnest frown on his face, crouching to let you hold him and mumbling little sorry’s.
Suguru isn’t sure what they’re for, but he does know that Satoru has never seriously apologized to him for anything in his life. He’s expressed regret, learned from some mistakes, sure. But the word sorry, as far as Suguru knew, wasn’t in Gojo’s vocabulary.
He says it a lot now, with this cooing voice that Suguru also finds foreign. He learns through some mumbled words you manage that your tears are from worry, that gojo promised he’d be home earlier and that he wasn’t answering his phone. Then your wails turn fresh when you notice gojo is bleeding.
“Baby this is literally nothing—“ Geto, who saw Gojo’s initial wound and can actually see the man swaying on his feet, almost chuckles. He saves it with a cough.
“—I basically already healed myself. You know nothing could ever happen to me.”
This makes you mad, Suguru can practically feel how your anger tinges the air.
“Satoru Gojo I do not know that and—hic—you’d do better to answer your phone next time!”
“Ahh yes ma’am, yes ma’am.”
That secret filing cabinet in your mind rattles from time to time when you reach your ninth month pregnant. You’ve somehow managed to stave off any ill second thoughts towards your fate till now, letting it hit you last minute like something you’ve been putting off. It’s not that you’re unready for motherhood—you’ve reached acceptance of what’s to come—but you’ve developed a slight fear of your own personal eternity being reached. Slight because you’re excellent at burying and vaulting—slight because you love satoru and your baby so deeply.
But around your nine month marker, sore and barely even able to fuck properly, your husband makes an off-handed remark. You’d just taken him on all fours, cumming so easily despite satoru’s unusually tame treatment, and were laying in the aftershocks with sticky thighs while satoru fetched you a warm washcloth. The bath water was also running loudly, so he had to speak up while he said, “I’m gonna look to see how soon an in-ground pool could be installed, bet it’d be good for your poor hips next time you’re pregnant.” He speaks while he opens up your legs, casually wiping your shared mess clean with a soft damp towel, like he has a million times.
Maybe you’re tired, maybe it’s his casual tone paired with such a ludicrous sentence, but the idea of buying a pool because of what should be temporary pregnancy ailments and the implication that you’ll have them again and again… it sends you in a spiral.
It’s not unusual for you to burst into tears with your wacky hormones—satoru’s seen your puffy crying face, especially while pregnant, more times than he could count. So he isn’t particularly alarmed when he sees the silent drops rolling down your cheeks when he returns from the laundry shoot a moment later. But he is concerned, crawling up the bed till he’s hovering to kiss your shoulder, scooting behind you to spoon your lightly shaking frame.
He doesn’t talk for a moment, trying to decide the best course of action. He’s familiar with the tears, sure, but he knows he’s not an expert on them, sometimes he tries to talk to them when he shouldn’t and vice versa.
Eventually he settles on a little “I got you,” for comfort, his warm hands rubbing over your arms then your belly in what he hopes is a soothing rhythm.
You think about telling him your issues, your deepest secrets, but you deliberate too long. Soon he’s kissing you again, pressing lips in a slow trail up your shoulder and neck before switching directions.
“I love you,” he adds.
You won’t tell him. You love him, too. The uck and grime of it all gets buried once again, shoved in the section of your head that stays locked up with high security. You turn around and, instead of answering, capture his lips in a salty kiss, the kind that starts out soft and clumsy—sweet. It doesn’t take long for your lips to get needy though, for the sweetness to be replaced with aching. The kind that always spreads between your thighs.
Thanks for reading eeeek! feedback and rbs appreciated! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
#gojo x reader#gojo smut#jjk x reader#jjk smut#gojo satoru x reader#tw.pregnancy#gojo satoru smut#tw.breeding#tw.incest#satoru x reader#gojo x you#gojo fic
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Desperation
Summary: Your master fucks you while you both have very full bladders.
Characters: AMAB Vampire x AFAB GN Reader
Kinks: Oversized cock, excessive cum, cumflation, omorashi, master/pet, bondage, vampire, biting, primal, breeding, bladder desperation, manhandling, cnc,
Words: 2,410
Note: Putting this back on the blog for "advertisement purposes". More writing that's not posted here can be found over on my Patreon.
“Whining already, love? I haven’t even gotten started.”
You let out a whimper as your master chuckles to himself. He tips yet another tall glass of cold water against your lips, and you begrudgingly begin to drink, your bladder screaming in protest more and more each second. You only finish half the glass before you have to pull away to breathe. Your master smiles approvingly at you from his place perched on the bed beside you.
He has you propped up against a stack of plush pillows, your wrists bound to the headboard so that you can’t hold yourself, and your legs spread and bound so that you can’t hide any leaks. You’re naked, save for the collar around your neck, with its soft leather and jingling bell. Your master rests a hand over your bladder and massages gently, and your legs jerk, trying to close to keep from wetting yourself. He grins and presses the glass to your lips once more.
“This is the last glass, darling. You can do it.”
You nod and drink. When you’re finally finished, he praises you with soft kisses to your neck and sweet words in your ear, then sets the glass on the bedside table before he rounds the bed, undoing the ties that bind you and freeing you from your prison. You want so badly to hold yourself, but you don’t move. You know he’s not finished with you. He grabs you by your ankles and slowly drags you down the bed so that you’re lying on your back, which makes the need to pee even worse than before. You look to where he’s standing at the foot of the bed to see his own bulging bladder standing proudly out from his abdomen. He’s as full as you are, possibly more-so, but he handles his desperation with much more grace.
Below that, his large, erect cock bobs eagerly as he climbs onto the bed and settles himself over you. He doesn’t give you any warning before he presses his body against yours and grinds your bladders together. You let out a squeak as a spurt of pee is pushed from you, but he’s forced his legs between yours so that you can’t close them. He doesn’t seem to mind as the warm liquid covers his cock, as he only squishes himself harder against you, grinding and humping.
He presses his lips against your neck as you let out a long moan. Fuck it feels good… It burns like hell, but the bliss that comes with that feeling of fullness outweighs any discomfort. Knowing that his bladder is full and burning just as much as yours is only icing on the cake. He follows your moan with one of his own as his cock twitches and presses against your entrance, and the next thing you know, he’s forcing his girth inside of you.
You cry out in pain as he stretches you open, his cockhead pressing hard against your bladder from the inside as he makes himself comfortable. He gives you only a second to adjust before he pulls out and then pushes back in, setting a steady pace. You clench around him, putting pressure on your bladder and sending electric bliss up your spine.
“Fuck, you feel so good…” your master breathes against your neck before pressing his lips just beneath your jaw.
He peppers soft kisses along the flesh there while he fucks you, and you tangle your hands in his hair to try and ground yourself.
“Hurts…” you whine.
“I know, pet. I know. You’re doing so well.”
It did hurt, but it felt so good, that you didn’t dare ask him to slow down.
“Fuck… Master. Please.”
He chuckles, sending vibrations through your chest.
“You don’t have to ask, darling. I’m going to fuck the piss out of you.”
His words send heat directly to your core, and your eyes roll back as the spring in your stomach tightens, coiling around your bladder. He crushes his lips against yours in a bruising kiss, and you open your mouth for his long tongue to slide languidly down your throat. His skin is cold, but you’re burning up beneath him, wound tight and ready to explode at any minute. You let out a long, low moan, and he growls in response. His hips stutter for only a moment, and then he picks up the pace, slamming into you frantically.
Your cry is muffled by his mouth as his cock hammers against your bladder. He slips a hand between your bodies and you jerk against him as it closes around your cock. He strokes you hard and fast in time to his thrusts, massaging you expertly. You can feel yourself teetering on the very edge, and you tug at his hair to try and get him to let you breathe, but he only deepens the kiss.
You don’t get to ask permission to cum. The coil snaps, and your entire body tenses as you crash into your orgasm. Your bladder feels like it’s about to explode, but everything is so tight, nothing is able to come out. You nearly drown in his scent and his touch as he fucks you through your high, marrying pleasure with pain in a heavenly dance as stars burst behind your closed eyes.
It’s when all sensation begins to dissipate, even though you can feel him still, rocking into you, that you realize you haven’t been allowed to breathe. On the edge of your consciousness, you feel his tongue slide out of your throat, and then a sharp slap to the side of the face has you gasping for air. You gaze up at your master with wide eyes as he grins down at you, still moving, grinding, humping, torturing your bladder and your cunt.
“You don’t get to check out just yet,” he grins, sharp teeth gleaming in the candlelight. “I’m not through with you.”
He pauses in his movements just long enough to hook his arms beneath your legs and bring your knees to your head, folding you in half and crushing your bladder, angling your bodies so that his cock is hitting exactly the right button.
“Oh, fuck. FUCK!” you scream as he resumes a steady pace.
The pressure in this position is agony. Just as you think you’re about to wet yourself, however, you feel something else moving between your legs, something cold and thin and slick. You don’t need to look to know that he’s summoned a shadowy tentacle to aid his ministrations. He doesn’t slow as the tentacle presses against your urethra, and it’s too much for you all at once. You clench to try and stop the flow, but to no avail.
As soon as the stream begins, it’s interrupted by a sudden sharp pain, and then ecstasy as that dark tendril forces its way into your urethra, plugging your entrance, and then deeper and deeper to coil inside of your bladder.
“M-master-”
You struggle to free yourself from his grip, but his strength is superhuman. He has you thoroughly trapped, pinned beneath his weight and your own.
“Need me to stop?” he asks without slowing.
“No!” you reply quickly. “I can take it! I want it!”
His laugh is wicked, on the very edge of evil.
“Even if you can’t, I will make you,” he growls. “You will take it and you will thank me for it when we’re done.”
“Yes, mas-”
You’re interrupted by his lips pressing once more against yours. This time, he keeps his tongue in check, exploring your mouth with it, grazing your teeth, curling around your tongue. Your eyes roll back in your head as pleasure builds again, accompanied by that sweet, burning pain. You wrap your arms around him as best you can from this position, digging your nails into the soft flesh on his back. It burns. It burns so fucking bad, but you can’t make him stop. You don’t want him to stop.
The coil tightens quickly once it’s begun, and in only another minute, he forces you once more over the edge. Your muscles clench, body tensing as your climax hits you hard. It hurts, it hurts so fucking good, so fucking good you nearly pass out.
But your master is there, gently stroking your face, thrusting slowly, so slowly now, to bring you down from your high. You try to speak, but all that comes out is a high-pitched whine.
“Shhh, easy love.”
Carefully, he unfolds you, allowing you to lie flat on your back once more.
“Hold it,” he orders, and you’re confused for a moment, until the tendril slowly slides out of your bladder. You clench hard, trying to keep it all in, but he’s forced to press his thumb to your urethra to keep you from leaking too much while you get your bearings.
“Hold it,” he orders again, this time more forcefully.
You’re not sure if you can, but you nod anyway. You can’t displease your master. You won’t.
You’re shaking with the effort of keeping your bladder in check as he lies down on top of you, making sure not to put pressure on the bulge in your abdomen. He presses his lips against your neck, just over your pulse point, and peppers soft kisses as he buries himself deep, forcing his oversized cock all the way inside of you. You grit your teeth and squeeze your eyes shut.
He begins again, fucking you as deeply as he can, rutting into you like a dog.
“I’m going to breed you, pet,” he purrs into the crook of your neck. “Breed you like you deserve to be bred. You’ve been so good for me.” There’s a pause, and you can feel him smile just beneath your jaw. “But I’m going to fuck the piss out of you first.”
Your walls tighten around him in response, and he groans. His cock is so hot inside of you, and it stretches and fills you just right, as if your body was made to take him. His breathing is heavy and erratic, and a thin sheen of sweat coats his brow. He’s close.
“Cum in me Master. Breed me, please.”
He bites down on your shoulder as his pace quickens, and in only a second, he’s fucking you like you’re the last breath of oxygen in the universe. The bed hammers against the wall with each powerful thrust, and he’s grabbing at you, clawing up your arms, desperate to pull you closer. He crushes your bladders together.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he pants.
The pressure of his body against yours and his cock slamming into you from inside finally becomes too much, and despite how hard you try to hold everything in, the dam finally breaks. Each time his cockhead hammers against your bladder, you lose a spurt of piss, until he’s fucking you so fast, grinding your bodies together so hard, that it’s a constant stream. Your scent fills the air as your swollen bladder finally finds some relief, and the release sends you over the edge a final time. Your master cums with you, pushing into you so hard that he forces you up the bed.
Then, as your bladder shrinks, your stomach begins to swell. You’re unable to come down from your high, your climax renewed every time his cock throbs inside of you, flooding your womb with hot seed. The burning pressure from within you gives way to a comforting warmth as you stretch to accommodate the sheer quantity of cum that he’s allowing you to have.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he lets out a heavy groan and relaxes on top of you, chest heaving. You can feel his still-full bladder pressed against your bulging stomach, massive and rock-hard, and you grind up against him mischievously. He growls and bites down once more on your shoulder, a warning to behave yourself. You’re exhausted and soaked in piss, and your master is shaking with the effort he’s just expended, but you know he’s not finished. You know what comes next, and you want it.
His tongue slithers over the bite mark he’s given you, lapping up the blood drawn there to renew some of his strength. And then he pushes himself off of you and to his knees. Slowly, he pulls himself out. This is the first chance you’ve gotten since starting that you’ve been able to look down at him, and your mouth begins to water at the sight of his manhood glistening beneath a distended bladder.
“Master,” you breathe as you take in his beauty.
He smiles warmly down at you, then hooks his arms beneath you to raise your hips. You let out a low moan as his cum sloshes around inside of you, and then a hiss as his cockhead prods at your asshole.
“Fuck, yes, Master. Fill me. I want it all.”
Agonizingly slowly, he forces his cock inside of you, and then settles back on his heels. He takes a few breaths as he allows his muscles to relax, and then lets out a long, low moan as you feel warmth hotter than his seed begin to flood your insides. Your head drops back into the pillows and you close your eyes as he relieves himself. He takes one of your hands in his own and rests them on top of your stomach so that you can both feel it swell, bigger and bigger, until it's so big and heavy that you can't move beneath its weight.
His relief goes on for ages. Ten seconds, thirty, a minute, two minutes, until you’re once again so full that you feel as if you’re going to burst. Finally, he begins to rub your stomach, his silent signal that he’s finished. You hum, the ability to speak completely lost, and twine your fingers together.
“Do you want me to stay inside?” he asks, his voice barely a whisper.
You nod. He lowers your hips and helps you roll onto your side, then settles himself behind you and wraps his arms tightly around you in a protective hug, all the while buried deep. His cock keeps you plugged so that not a single drop of his piss can escape. He nuzzles against you, pressing himself tightly against your back and holding you close, and this is the last thing you feel as you drift off to sleep.
#my writing#omorashi#bladder holding#bladder desperation#bladder torture#bladder control#piss kink#vampire kink#dom/sub#master/pet#inflation kink#impreg kink#consensual noncon
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taming bakugou is a big challenge for you.
!warnings!: NSFW, MDNI. gn!dom!reader, sub!bakugo, light bondage, dirty talk, degradation, physical pain, handjob, choking (everything listed bkg receiving). reader is a bit sadistic.
he's pressed to the sheets under your strong torso, squrming and snarling. his hands are tied securely behind his back by your own tie you wore to work today, palms warm and sweaty as if he was ready to set off explosions at you at any given moment. as if you'd let him. you chuckle at the thought.
"katsuki." you murmur into his ear gently, so close, extremely close, your lips almost touching the lobe, and his breath hitches for a moment. he needs more, he craves it, but he won't admit it. you decide to give him a chance at first. "dear. be a brat again and i won't give you what you want."
"you better get off me and let me fuck you myself." he spits bitterly, voice soaked in usual irritation. your eyes widen in displeasure, nails digging into the skin of his strong shoulders, leaving pink marks. "i know how much you want my cock."
a scowl twists your face. not good.
"is that so?" you sit back, ass placed on his lower back, right above his throbbing dick, and you push your hips as hard as you can. his dick gets squished under your body weight, painfully so, and he lets out a muffled groan. "then why would you let me tie you in the first place, hm? why would you let me get on top of you? take control over your body?"
your voice is sweet, but filled with poison that beats all the air out of his lungs. he grits his teeth and wriggles in desperate attempts to get out of your grip, dick almost getting crushed and yet still extremely hard, but right now you are stronger, and you refuse to give him any opportunity to escape your punishment.
"admit it, bakugo." you lean forward, grab his hair in a hard grip of your fingers, and press his flushed face into the sheets. then, with your other hand you smack his back, making him flinch, feeling the muscles stiff under your harsh touch. he barely stifles a moan and you chuckle under your breath. "you like being treated like a slut. you like being owned. how will the world react if they see one of the top pro-heroes whimpering in pleasure from being hit?"
you hit again, and again, and again, and each time he shifts uncontrollably, whimpers through still gritted teeth, tears collect in the corners of his eyes. you tug at his blond locks so he raises his head and meets your blown out pupils. your gaze is dark, brows furrowed, but you seem very concentrated and he feels a small speck of fear tug at his heart. you notice it, but don't give yourself away.
"sh-shut up." he tries to intervene but he sounds so, so pathetic.
"you fucking brat." you let go of his hair but he's still looking at you, taking in your stern and unhinged expression and flushed face. your eyes fall on the bright red spot in the form of your hand on his back, right under his shoulderblades, and the wave of pleasure hits you again. "you love this. you love the humiliation and you love the pain."
grin paints your face as he hides his in the sheets, thus proving your point, so you decide it's finally time to turn him on his back. you flip him over and drag his stiff body to lean on the headboard, and cage his thighs between your legs.
he's breathing heavily, sweat drops falling from his face onto his chest, eyes dazed with a spark of anger, mouth agape. his lips are puffy and pretty, sparkling from wetness, and you want to kiss them so badly but you restrain yourself. he didn't deserve it.
"just touch me already, you damn- ahh," he doesn't get to finish his sentence when you wrap your fingers around the tip of his cock, not squeezing, just placing your hand on it. he moans loudly just from this small contact and you smile maliciously, taking in his fastened breathing and half-lidded eyes.
it was a trick. because right at the next second you remove your hand and slap his twitching dick, making him almost fold in half while shouting from the strike of pain.
you smile at him, innocently fluttering your eyelashes as if you didn't just smack the shit out of his cock. "does this count?"
he presses back against the headboard again, his legs now shaking. his wet hair clings to his forehead, you know it always annoys him but you purposefully don't remove it. you meet his gaze and there's a huge abyss of hate and resentment, but you know the motherfucker is thriving right now. he craves to be put in his place.
"your silence tells me it's still not enough." you hum, and bring yourself closer, almost towering over his form. he waits for a strike again, his whole body stiffening, but you take his cock in your hand and spread the precum over his length, agonizingly slow, rubbing over his veins. he relaxes after a few strokes, the features on his face smoothing out, his mouth falling agape again, and you take the opportunity to catch his lower lip between your teeth, biting and sucking on it. he kisses back, hips moving against your hand for more friction, and you swallow his moans.
you keep stroking him up and down, let go of his lips and nose his cheek, your movements becoming a bit faster now. "hmm... katsuki, would you like to be choked?"
judging from his fucked out expression, he can't think clearly right now, eyes rolling to the back of his head from pleasure. you grab his chin and turn his face towards you, your hand still moving on his length. "katsuki. yes or no." your voice is steel and demanding.
you wait for a few moments, searching for an answer on his face, until he mumbless a small "yes." and you nod.
you win.
he's already barely breathing, but you're about to make it worse. you shift a little to a more comfortable position, and to give bakugo some time to prepare himself. after that you clutch at his neck, slowly and carefully adding pressure while you brush over his cock wirh your fingers. he's squirming, not able to hold still, so you add more pressure and he wheezes, his cock twitching. you bite your own moans and move your hand faster, and faster, and he can't handle it anymore. he tries to breathe and suffocates under your touch, and you're breaking him, you're breaking bakugo katsuki.
you rub your own wetness against his limp thigh, watching his face become more pale, mouth completely open and trying to catch air.
"my little slut likes to be choked by me, hm? that's it, katsuki. know your place. know who you belong to."
and just like that, with his eyes rolling back and you removing your hand just in time, he inhales sharply and cums, white hot liquid falling on the muscles of his chest. you watch this beautiful view, taking it all in. he chokes on air, back arching in immense, overwhelming pleasure. his whole world is being destroyed in front of his eyes.
and you were the one who did it. with your own hands.
dedicated to all subby baku enjoyers. i stand with you.
#katsuki bakugō#bakugou katsuki#bakugou x y/n#bakugou katuski x reader#bakugou smut#mha bakugou#mha x reader#mha smut#bakugou imagine#bakugou drabble#bnha smut#bnha imagines#bnha x y/n#bnha x reader#sub!bakugou#dom!y/n#dom!reader#filthy smut
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Oki so like as much as I love sub!buggy, dom!buggy is like… an extra special fancy meal you have like twice a year.
Something about him getting angry and his ego overtaking his self consciousness
Buggy being on a high from a great performance
Buggy being too worked up to listen to anything but his head (lol)
Buggy using being in control as like, another layer of performance (omg don’t get me started on this, his parter tied up and forced to focus only on him?? I’m-)
I am weak for dom!buggy. WEAK. Folding immediately.
The idea of him losing self-control? Succumbing to carnal instinct? Delicious. One of my favorite meals. I could wax lyrical about this forever and ever and ever and ever and ever and-
Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, dom!buggy x GN!reader, 2 lil drabbles, profanity, angry buggy, jealous buggy, insertion sex, manual stimulation (is there another gn term for this??), maybe sorta dubcon but all parties are consenting adults
WC: ~600
I’m hooked on an angry Buggy…
Buggy who is absolutely seething about an unsuccessful treasure raid. Weeks of preparation, all for nothing. The map was old and the treasure was long gone. The venture was a failure, which meant the captain was a fucking failure.
His emotions are bubbling over. Thoughts running in circles. And then there’s you. A poorly timed but well-intentioned question about whether there’s anything you can do to help him calm down resulted in you against the wall while Buggy fumbles with his belt. Your face pressed into the wood, mouth hanging open, while he thrusts into you at a shattering pace.
“Calm down, huh? How’s this for calm?” he snarls in your ear. “Telling your fucking captain he should calm the fuck down…”
You can’t answer. Your mind is fuzzy, your legs are trembling, that deep coil keeps tightening and snapping under his relentless hammering. You’re an absolute mess - drooling and dripping, whining and whimpering, eyes rolling back, moans growing coarse in your throat.
Then he stops, still sheathed fully inside you. Buggy presses his weight against your body, burrowing himself deeper and deeper. You’re stretched so full, conforming to his presence. It aches so wonderfully.
He’s huffing. His heavy breaths fill your ears and your empty head. But he’s not done. Buggy has a lot of anger to let out before he can “calm down,” and you’re gonna help.
---
Okay okay okay, what about when Buggy's jealous...
When you laugh a little too hard at someone else’s jokes. When you accept drinks because they’re free. When you’re polite to some shit-stain nobody, giving them the attention that should be on Buggy. It’s irritating.
Buggy makes sure you know how disrespectful that was by making sure you devote all of your attention to him later that night. Binding you in a chair, arms behind your body and legs spread open, and all you can focus on is him.
His hand between your legs while he stands in front of you. He’s so fucking tall too, so you have to look up. You have to maintain eye contact, otherwise he won’t let you come. Feeling the tremors in your body as you get close, you can’t stop your eyes from fluttering, which stops all movement.
The feeling between your legs is gone. Instead, Buggy’s hand is on your chin. He’s rough, squishing your cheeks, and digging his fingers into your plump skin.
“So you don’t want to come? Maybe I should stop and leave you like this.”
You can’t shake your head against the tight hold. You can’t roll your hips to chase the friction he took away. You can’t move your hands to touch yourself. All you can do is look Buggy in the eyes and give him a pitiful sounding answer.
He lets go of your face. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want to come, please...”
The words come out in a needy whine, but that answer isn’t satisfactory. Buggy crouches in front of you and puts a hand on your knee.
“Ah-ah, tell me exactly what you want.”
“I-I want you to touch me. I want you to m-make me come. Wanna feel you, want you, wanna come on you, want-”
Your babbling is cut off by a climax Buggy coaxes with a few well-timed and well-placed touches.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you…” The words repeat in between heaving breaths. You feel so limp. So exhausted.
A hand on your chin brings your gaze back towards his. “Eyes on me. I’m not done, yet. Let’s see if you can still talk when I’m through with you.”
#no but i really truly adore dom!buggy so much#buggy smut#buggy x reader#buggy the clown#buggy x you#x reader#buggy op#opla buggy#buggy the clown x reader#one piece buggy#buggy the clown smut#one piece smut#buggy x gender neutral reader#gender neutral reader
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sex ban [smt x reader]
seok matthew x reader | 1.2k word count | explicit (minors dni)
“you enforce a sex ban with matthew”
contains: afab bodied!reader, needy!matthew, crack (??), suggestive tone, reader being a tease, pet names ("baby", "babe")
he let out a laugh because he thought you were joking. he was waiting for you to laugh along with him... to hit him with a “sike!” and start stripping.... but you didn't.
matthew gave you a bewildered look, “you cannot be serious.”
“watch me,” was your only response before you walked away from him. no. you strutted away from him. moving your hips in a way you knew that would drive matthew up a wall.
the whole day you were teasing him relentlessly. you wore tight clothes that emphasized your curves. you held on to his arm sensually. you were doing the most to get a reaction out of him. however, every time he would go initiate something, you tried to act clueless in this little game of cat and mouse of yours. his advances went all ignored.
you were probably amused by all this. matthew wasn't. (not one bit.) (he liked challenges but not this.)
it was pure torture that went on for three days.
the day after you declared you'd stop fucking him indefinitely, you purposely picked up something in front of matthew. the shorts you had on was being true to its name; it was too short that your ass cheeks were showing.
you arched your back that made him think of all the sinful things he could do to you in the bedroom. he was so aroused he could fuck you right then and there. he wanted to break your back.
as you bent down, he groaned. he came up behind you and smacked your ass.
“matty!” you squealed. you immediately stood up straight. matthew pressed your bodies closer. you could feel him hardening behind you. instinctively, you rubbed your ass on his cock.
matthew smiled thinking he was winning. he started to kiss your neck but you pulled away.
once you started being intimate with each other, you've been going at it like rabbits in heat. if his cock wasn't inside of you, he would be squished between your thighs, tongue prodding your cunt and lapping up your juices.
this was a good thing— matthew being obsessed with you. way too good that it had gotten you severely tardy from work a lot. your supervisor called you in about your attitude to reprimand you, even with a threat of dismissal.
“if you wanted to fuck, you should've thought about your actions before you did it!” you scolded him with a pout. you became handsy as you palmed him above his sweatpants. he loudly moaned in ecstasy as you did so. you kind of missed his cock and the sounds you made together. (but you wanted to be responsible for once!)
“said, i was sorry, baby.” he told you through his teeth, mostly likely getting needier.
you knew you were getting horny. at the same time, you did not like to back down. you did enjoy teasing matthew just to get things out of your system (and as a little bit of pay back for getting you in trouble at work).
you removed yourself from him so you wouldn't be tempted any longer.
matthew knew you were just as turned on as he was. the outline of your pert nipple could be seen through your body hugging top. he wanted nothing more than to pinch it with his fingers.
on god, matthew almost went on his knees to beg you to fuck but he had to remain a little bit of dignity.
for the second time that week, he could only watch you walk away from him. he wanted to smack your ass again. he looked down at his slight boner and sighed, “guess it's just you and me, buddy.”
on the third day of your evil sex ban, matthew felt like he was going to lose it. his hands didn't give him the same pleasure just as you did but it was all he could do.
the entire day he let his imagination run wild as he thought about you. he imagined his hand sliding across your smooth leg before venturing out to what's in between your thighs. in his mind, he could see himself pressing his crotch against yours. you were being tied up to the bed post, calling for him. matthew even pulled up some of the nudes you sent him back then so he could masturbate to you like a fucking idiot virgin at the bathroom.
this was the worst moment of his life. it truly humbled him.
he hung his head low in defeat as he entered the apartment. it had been a long day. all he wanted was to sink in your plush thighs and squeeze your ass to relax. (but he couldn't. curse your sex ban.)
“oh, you're home.” you said, coming out of his room.
you were wearing one of matthew's sweaters. seeing you in his clothing always turned him on. it was even worse now that he had these pent up energy in him. he was sure you were seducing him right now.
he wasn't the only one feeling frustrated.
you, on the side of things, felt like you were going to fold as soon as you saw him. he was so hot. you can't believe you held off from fucking him. sweat was dribbling down his neck. his hair a bit damp. an indication he was at the gym.
his biceps were flexing as he placed his things down.
“christ,” you muttered to yourself as you watched him. you bit your lip. you could cut the tension with a knife in the room.
you decided to wave your white flag down. you admitted to yourself that this was getting ridiculous.
you headed straight to him and literally jumped on him. matthew caught you on reflex despite being surprised. he had planned to pathetically beg to you until you caved in to lift your ban but here you were breaking before him.
it was a turn on how he carried you with ease. he let out a sound of pleasure as he finally got to hold you. he hooked his arms underneath your thighs as you put your legs around his waist. he relished at the feeling of your soft thighs; the one he'd been thinking about earlier.
“missed me, baby?” he looked at you with so much desire. his pride rose knowing you were the one who gave in to him.
like magnets, both of yours lips attached itself to one another. a breathless kiss with so much emotions. three days worth of pent up sexual needs. the atmosphere in the room instantly becoming hot and heavy.
your fingers played with the hair at the back of his head after you wrapped your arms around his neck. you held on to him like this for more support but also so you can keep him close to you. you did miss your matty.
“need you,” you panted out in between kisses. you were the one who put the both of you in this situation. the ban was your idea. should you even be saying that you needed him? matthew was in disbelief.
he pulled away from your kiss just a bit. and you had the audacity to whimper. “i'll punish you for this, you know.” matthew whispered. you could feel his breath fanning your lips.
you had him on edge for days. obviously, he would make sure to give you a taste of your own medicine. you only grinned at his words before pressing your lips together again. your lips moved hungrily against his.
“can't wait for it, babe.”
a/n: so... what do we think? hehe this was fun to write. (the photos matthew sent as i was writing definitely helped lol lol lol) (my other wips are probably wondering why i started on a new project and finished it before them... i will get to them soon!) btw, my asks are open if you want to leave matthew requests or if you just want to talk about him! (i need to interact with more zeroses and seokryudans.) and... thank you for reading! rbs, likes, and comments are always appreciated. (':
divider credit: saradika-graphics
#zb1#zb1 smut#zerobaseone smut#zb1 hard hours#zerobaseone hard hours#zb1 scenarios#zerobaseone scenarios#zb1 x reader#zerobaseone x reader#zb1 x you#zerobaseone x you#zb1 fics#zb1 imagines#zb1 matthew imagines#zb1 seok matthew imagines#seok matthew imagines#seok matthew hard hours#seok matthew smut#seok matthew x reader#seok matthew x reader smut#seok matthew x you#seok matthew you x smut#matthew x reader#kpop imagines#kpop scenarios#kpop x reader#kpop smut#kpop hard hours#aswaki writes
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