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anisespice · 1 year

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“ the fuck-it list ” || hq!

two || three || four

synopsis: there’s a list going around consisting of hot guys on campus that are deemed “fuckable” with theories as to what they’d be like in bed. it’s all fun and games until somehow your boyfriend ends up on this list.

pairing: various x gn!reader [ kags, akaashi, atsumu, kenma ]

warnings: cursing, suggestive language, mild objectification, mentions of cheating, cringe descriptions that aren’t 100% accurate lol

notes: based this off how my friend and i speculate about how the men in hq would be like in bed sooo it’s really just a little jokey joke, so have fun with her :] thinking of making more parts of this with other characters, lemme know what you guys think, and hope you enjoy!!

To be completely honest, KAGEYAMA wouldn’t know much about the list aside from maybe surface level stuff. He knew it was full of nonsensical speculations, nothing but weird projections put onto strangers by other strangers who found them attractive. It creeped him out a little, so that’s as far as he wished to know.

Plus, he had no reason to care about some dumb list—He had you.

“Have you seen this bullshit?!” Well, speak of the devil.

All the training in the world couldn’t have prepared his reflexes for the amount of whiplash you put him through in the span of ten seconds. There he was, minding his business in his dorm room, chilling with a volleyball, then BAM; he’s getting bum-rushed by his 5-foot-something significant other with smoke coming through their ears.

Good thing you had a key because the setter was certain you would’ve smashed right through his door by sheer force.

“Huh??” Frankly, you startled the poor man. The ball that was in the middle of being set toward the ceiling came barreling down on his face, causing him more disorientation. “See—ouch. See what?”

You stood there next to his bed, one hand on your hip while the other practically shoved your phone in his face. He squinted at the harsh light, but eventually his eyes adjusted enough to read the post. His lips formed a confused pout. “That stupid, horny hit-list? What about it?”

“What about it? Some bitch put you on there! Just listen to this garbage, ‘Tobio Kageyama. 6’2ft stoic, and mean Dom who’s pretty damn good with his hands. It’s obvious how much of a perfectionist he is, so be ready for some killer overstimulation. Probably won’t make any noise, and doesn’t know much about aftercare. Overall score: 6/10’. Are they deadass right now?”

Ah. Now he gets it.

He figured it was only a matter of time, homie was very much aware of his status around campus, not to mention being a looker to top it off. However, he figured being in a relationship would lessen his chances of him ending up on it, especially since you weren’t a secret or anything. Guess that list really had no morality after all. Who’d have thought?

“I mean, the audacity to put your name on it knowing damn well if anyone even tried it, I’d gorilla glue all their holes shut.” He snorted, face scrunching slightly at your unusual threat. But, something told him deep down you were being serious.

You continued ranting while pacing back and forth. “But not only that, they completely warped your entire sexual identity just because, what, you know how to mind your business and happen to have a RBF?”

“RBF?” He tilted his head, making you halt mid-rant to admire the adorable sight. How dare he? You were in the middle of seething, dammit.

“Resting Bitch Face.”

He frowned. “I don’t have that.”

“Tobio, you’re doing it right now.”

He huffed, looking away from you in defiance. His face was fine, he thought, a perfectly normal face indeed. A handsome face, he’d even say. Immediately picking up on his sourness, you chuckled softly before reaching over to cup his face and make him look at you. Kageyama instinctively wrapped his arms around your waist, his frown still apparent, but a little less heavy once it met your soft gaze. “Don’t be pouty.”

“I’m not…” he mumbled, cheeks squished under your palms. A small blush bloomed across the apples at your teasing giggle. “You’re the one that’s upset, not me. Why do you care if they misrepresented how I am in bed? Shouldn’t you be happy it’s inaccurate?”

Now it was your turn to huff, your bottom lip sticking out. Kageyama’s eyes honed in on its pillowy surface instantly, licking his own as he restrained himself; there’d be plenty of time for that later.

“I mean, yeah but…I don’t know. It just…feels icky knowing there are random people around campus theorizing about your dick size in the comments, or if you cry after an orgasm. The least they could’ve done was be a little accurate if they’re gonna cause us all this trouble.”

“Us? Pretty sure I’m the victim here. Who sucks at aftercare, apparently.” He scoffed, of which earned another giggle from you. “Besides, the only person I care about knowing any of that stuff is right here. They can take their 6/10 and fuck right off. I know my baby would rate me higher than that, right?”

You pursed your lips, avoiding eye contact as you playfully ignored his obvious bait for praise. Kageyama doesn’t take too kindly to that. He softly glared at you, arms tightening their hold around your waist and pulling you even closer to his toned chest.

“Oh, it’s like that, huh? That’s fine.”

Before you could register what happened, your boyfriend swept you up without struggle and gently tossed you onto his bed. “However, I will admit they were right about one thing.”

With a slight bounce, you couldn’t fight the delighted squeal as you watched him prowl towards you.

“Oh, really? And what’s that?”

He hummed softly, large hands traveling up your legs from the ankles all the way to your inner thighs before spreading them open to rest in between them. Finding home there for a brief moment, Kageyama practically smothered you under his gaze, attention once again zeroing in on your lips. He could feel his restraint dissipating, biting his own lip before slowly leaning down to place warm kisses against your skin. He left no spot unloved until he eventually stopped at your ear, his warm breath sending chills down your spine.

“I’m pretty damn good with my hands.”

Like Kageyama, AKAASHI didn’t care to know much about the list. He knows a good chunk of guys that ended up on it personally, and based on the conversations he’s heard them have it sounded like nothing but trouble.

And he was right to assume such.

One afternoon a few of his friends came barreling toward him during his break in between classes, each sporting various expressions that ranged from extreme determination (Bokuto) to absolute amusement (Kuroo), while the third looked as if they were brought there against their will (Kenma). Slowly, Akaashi lowered his sandwich with a sigh; so much for a peaceful lunch.

“AKAASHI.” Bokuto exclaimed, hands slamming down on the table to keep himself from nearly toppling the man. Akaashi flinched slightly at the volume, but before he could reprimand him, Bokuto grabbed him by his shoulders and looked him square in the eyes with grand intensity. “How could you be so selfish? I thought I raised you better than this, young man!”

The former setter gaped; that’s not at all what he was expecting to hear. It didn’t help when Kuroo started busting a lung, both hands on his knees as his hyena-esque laugh bounced off the walls of the canteen. Kenma side-eyed the business major before going back to playing some game on his phone, offering the ravenette a soft greeting, then helping himself to a chair.

Akaashi acknowledged the pudding-head with a small nod, sharp eyes redirecting back to his senior as he removed the rough hands from his shoulders. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about you cheating on [_____]!”

Akaashi blinked. Then, like a switch, his eyes nearly popped out his head as he registered the spiker’s words.

“WHAT.”

Kuroo, after finally catching his breath, gave a hearty exhale as he placed a hand on Bo’s shoulder. “Way to rip off the bandaid, buddy. Thought we agreed to work our way up to that part.”

“Screw that! I demand answers! Can’t believe I’ve been friends with a no good, cheating scumbag, hmph.” Akaashi blanched at the harsh accusation, falling deeper and deeper into a state of pure shock.

“Wait, hold on—”

“Whoa there, let’s not jump to conclusions. The man hasn’t even gotten the chance to speak for himself. I’m sure there’s a logical explanation for this whole thing.” Kuroo reasoned, but was obviously eating it up. Kenma lightly scoffed.

“You’re so full of shit.” He voiced, not even bothering to lift his gaze away from the game. Kuroo gasped dramatically at the dig, hand over his heart and everything. The former paid him no mind.

Akaashi abruptly stood. “Can someone please tell me what the hell is going on? I’m not cheating on [______], who’s spreading such a thing?”

Bokuto squinted. “Oya? Then how do you explain this?”

Like incriminating evidence being shown to a jury, the silver-haired tank pulled up the updated version of the list on his phone that was posted over an hour ago. Akaashi was still perplexed until he saw it. His name. Oh, god no.

Akaashi snatched the device to get a closer look just to make sure it wasn’t some sort of prank. To his dismay, the post was legit. Oh, god no.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me…”

“Uh huh, busted your ass!” Bokuto snatched the phone back only for Kuroo to then take it from him. “Hey!”

Clearing his throat, the sly bastard began reading the caption. “‘Keiji Akaashi. 6’0ft tall, pretty boy with intelligent steel blue eyes. His mysterious nature and bored expression would automatically put him under the Dom category, but I can see right through him.’ Wow, they make you sound like some sort of experiment.”

“Don’t read that outloud!” Akaashi lunged forward, only to be stopped by a large hand in his face. “Omf-! Fohkuto-son!”

“What? Ashamed of yourself? You should be, traitor!”

Kuroo continued. “‘What many would believe to be the strong silent type, I believe there’s a sensitive side to him. That’s why I declare Keiji Akaashi to be a Switch with Sub-leaning tendencies, who’s not afraid to be vocal and would 100% let you peg him. 11/10. Would fuck again.’ Holy shit, this is gold.”

“Jesus Christ,” Akaashi felt like his entire face was on fire. This was like his worst nightmare come to life, and apparently now everyone on campus could participate in his misery. “This cannot be happening to me…”

“Oh, me, me, me. Is that really all you can say for yourself? What about [_____], huh? How do you think they’d feel after finding out their boyfriend is an unfaithful—”

“I DIDN’T CHEAT ON MY S/O, BOKUTO-SAN. That isn’t even the purpose of the list, you should know, you’re on it too!”

Bokuto gaped. “I am??”

Akaashi groaned, sinking back into his seat. His hands dragged across his face in distress, feeling as if he aged ten years from this mishap alone. But, Bokuto had a point—How were you feeling about all this? Had you seen it?

Luckily, he didn’t need to wonder for long.

“Keiji!”

He flinched, as did the two stooges hovering near him. Kenma was the only one to greet you normally while everyone else resembled deer in headlights; this immediately alarmed you. What you expected to be a surprise lunch with your boyfriend since your class let out early, now felt as if you just walked in on an intervention. After taking in the weird atmosphere, you eyed Akaashi with mild confusion. “Uh…is everything okay?”

“It’s all good, [_____]! Turns out my best friend isn’t a scumbag after all. Akaashi is definitely not cheating on you, so no harm done!”

You did a double-take in bewilderment; didn’t expect that. “O..kay?”

Bokuto looked so proud of his declaration, chest puffed out whilst Kuroo looked like he could barely hold it together. Your boyfriend clearly had seen better days, frown heavy as he glared at his seniors; all he wanted was to eat his goddamn sandwich.

Eventually, you decided to just take a seat next to him, pulling out your own food while the two former captains began bickering about who knows what. Kenma continued to play his game, happily taking the apple slices you graciously slid over to him as a boost. After you got situated, Akaashi instantly plopped his head right on your shoulder, desiring comfort from the emotional turmoil he just endured.

You kissed away the stress lines on his forehead before opening up your bento, already having an idea in mind as to what’s gotten him so deflated. But, you spared him any further humiliation—You planned to report that stupid post later anyways.

You chilled outside the locker rooms waiting for ATSUMU, upon his request to walk you back to the dorms after practice was over. You told him there was no need, that you’d be fine walking back on your own, but he insisted.

And you were so glad he did.

While you were waiting, you mindlessly scrolled on Twitter until a familiar username caught your attention; @/FckIt22. Everyone knew of the infamous ‘Horny Bucket List’ going around and boosting already inflated egos, speculating and even sometimes outing people of their most lewd fantasies with popular guys on campus. You couldn’t help but watch the drama unfold every time there’d be a new update to the list, eating it up whenever it’d be someone you knew, or someone you would’ve never guessed to be on it.

And to your surprise, after you refreshed the page, it was both. Your mouth was slightly ajar when a picture of your boyfriend’s boyish grin greeted you, in his volleyball jersey, soaked with sweat and hair pushed back from his forehead; looking like a full course meal.

Eagerly, you tapped in to read the thread attached to the image, intrigued to know what was said about Atsumu until…

“...The fuck?”

As quick as your excitement came, there it went. Right there, in big letters for the whole campus, no, the entire internet to see was your boyfriend’s face attached with someone else’s name. And not just any someone.

‘O S A M U M I Y A’

You didn’t know whether to laugh, or what. Could they’ve seriously not been bothered to make sure they had the right twin? And not only that, they mentioned you in the thread. Didn’t bother to @ you, though.

That only pissed you off even further.

‘Osamu Miya. 6’1ft of muscle and charm, whose insatiable appetite won’t be satisfied until he’s had your thighs wrapped around his face for an hour AT LEAST. Not the most expressive, but make no mistake that he’s the ultimate brat tamer; no doubt [______] could attest to that.’

“I know damn well they didn’t just…” You muttered in disbelief, shaking your head as you read on.

‘But, if you’re good, he mayyyy let you top. Don’t think for a second you’re in control tho. Unlike his brother, he’s got Dom energy for daysss. Doubt this man does anything but grunt and groan, but overall he still gets an 8/10. Yum ♡.’

Wow.

You weren’t expecting to see your future brother-in-law painted in this light today, but supposed there was a first for everything. To be fair, whomever ran the account sure knew how to sell a fantasy, but it didn’t excuse the lack of decorum they had. You felt a little disturbed, almost violated. One could only imagine how the twins would feel if they saw this…

“Hey there, stranger.” You jumped slightly at the sudden intrusion; speak of the devil. Atsumu wrapped his arms around your middle from behind, placed his chin on your shoulder, and gave a loving squeeze. “Ya ready?”

“Uh, yeah.” You quickly locked your phone.

A little too quick.

A small pout formed on his face. He immediately called you out. “What’re ya lookin’ at?”

“Hm?”

“Your phone, y’were lookin’ at something.” Noticing your shifty behavior, his grip around you loosened a little as he strained his neck to look you square in the face. It wasn’t long before a teasing grin spread across his. His eyebrows wiggled, “Ya lookin’ at porn?”

With a roll of your eyes, you lightly jabbed him in his bicep. “Yeah, ‘Tsumu. I was totally looking at porn. You got me.”

Atsumu shrugged, sporting an even bigger grin as he started to sway both of you. “Hey, no judgement here. But don’t forget ya got the real deal right here, darlin’. Whenever you need it, your lovely boyfriend will take care of ya. All’s ya gotta do is ask.”

He spun you around in his hold, and grabbed your hips. With low, tired eyes he stared deeply into your soul. His lopsided grin brought more damage to your already fluttering heart, not to mention his semi that was now pressed against your stomach; this man had been dying to have you in his arms for a while, it seemed. However, even with this sexual tension growing between the two of you...you just couldn’t help yourself.

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind, Osamu.”

Immediately, his grin dropped. You did your best to remain stoic, but the absolute disgust that took over his face was just too good. Your body began to shake with laughter, small snickers escaping you as you bit your lip to hold it back. Atsumu was not amused.

“That joke wasn’t funny back in high school, [______], still ain’t funny now…”

“Oh, this is no joke. As of today, my boyfriend’s Osamu Miya, and apparently he’s my brat-tamer. Did you know that he won’t even let me top unless I’ve been good-?”

“Knock it off.” Atsumu glared, gently pinching your sides. You squirmed, but the teasing smile you had didn’t falter. “What’s gotten into ya? Tryin’ to get a rise outta me or somethin’?”

“Oh, you haven’t seen it yet?”

“Seen what?”

You unlocked your phone and showed him the thread. Atsumu held a look of utter confusion, squinting at it until it eventually registered what you were showing him. He’d heard about the list that circled around on campus, some of his friends and teammates used to brag, or complain about it to him when they ended up on it. At first, he found it entertaining…but now?

“THE FUCK?”

He snatched the phone out of your hands to get a closer look, catching on to what you’d originally been hiding from him in the beginning; Atsumu wished it had been porn.

“That’s what I said!” You laughed, incredulously. “The nerve of them to just mix the two of you up like that. And to add me into it without even bothering to tag me? Probably ‘cause they knew I’d call them out on their bullshit. Can you believe-”

“‘Unlike his brother, he’s got Dom energy for days’?? I totally have Dom energy! We’re fucking twins, why wouldn’t I? And ‘Samu ain’t no brat-tamer! If anythin’, he’s the goddamn brat.” Somewhere on campus, Osamu sneezed.

You stood there in bewilderment. That’s what he’s concerned about?

Crossing your arms, you watched him in astonishment. “So, you don’t care that they used your picture? Or the insinuation that I sleep with your brother?”

“‘Course I do! Ya think I like the idea of his filthy mouth being anywhere near you? And usin’ my picture to clickbait my supporters is just cheap. But nothin’ pisses me off more than anyone thinkin’ that bastard has better game than me. 8/10 my ass…”

You snorted. Why were you not surprised?

Taking a small step closer you grabbed his wrist and lowered it, bringing his attention away from the phone. Atsumu now wore a heavy pout, one that you couldn’t help but to kiss; so you did. With a free hand you reaching up to his nape and pulled him downward, capturing his lips. Catching him off guard, man nearly dropped your phone when your tongue slipped into his mouth. With a soft groan, Atsumu wrapped an arm around your waist as he tilted his head in response to your sudden affection, deepening the kiss as it instantly made his mind go blank.

You pulled away too soon for his liking, the blonde blindly chasing after you with his eyes still closed as a light chuckle escaped you. You thumbed at his bottom lip, wiping some of the spit left behind as he slowly opened his eyes. Atsumu’s honey-gaze seared right into you, the hunger from early returning as the semi he sported was now fully hard, thick and heavy as it pressed against your stomach—So fucking whipped, after just one kiss. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Gazing at him lovingly, your nails raked gently through his hair as he practically melted into you. For a moment, you thought he’d start purring.

“What do they know, huh? How about you take me to my dorm and remind me why Atsumu Miya, my lovely boyfriend, is the only one who takes good care of me. Then, we’ll put that account on blast afterwards, what d’you say?”

His boyish grin reappeared, leaning in to place his forehead on yours. “Thought you’d never ask.”

KENMA felt indifferent about the list. Nothing about it made sense to him, and he left it at that. It didn’t matter how many times his friends brought it up, or how many people whispered about it during lectures—He had no opinion on it.

“You’re not even a little curious?” Hinata asked.

“No. Not in the slightest.”

The two of them were chilling in the canteen, in the student gaming section, both occupied with their own respective poisons. While Hinata farmed pixelated fruit on his switch, Kenma battled npcs on the public-shared ps4. The copper-head talked on and on about trivial subjects since they’ve arrived, ranging from tough assignments he nearly failed to new moves he tried in volleyball, while the quieter of the two responded occasionally when he felt it necessary.

Hinata gasped, looking up from his game in genuine surprise. “Whoa, Bakayama said the exact same thing. You and him are probably one of the few guys I know who aren’t interested in knowing if they’re on the list. Well, you two and Suckyshima. And Sakusa-san...and...”

This went on for a good minute.

Kenma sighed, neutral expression not matching the rapid movement of his thumbs across the controller. “It’s just some dumb list. Not like it benefits anyone.”

“Sure it does! I heard it brought lots of people together,” Hinata paused, tilting his head as he hummed in thought. “Although, I also heard it split people up, too. And caused a lot of rumors…and got that one professor fired…”

Yet another minute, passed.

Kenma couldn’t help but snort, at least finding his rambling endearing enough to stomach yet another pointless conversation about that accursed list—Why people were so obsessed with it was beyond him.

“Sounds like a lot of drama. No thanks.”

There’s silence between the two of them, the sound effects from their games being the only thing filling the space. Kenma continued rapidly mashing buttons, tongue sticking out as he concentrated on the level. However, he couldn’t help but feel like they were being watched. They were in a public space, sure, but…something definitely felt off. Choosing to ignore it, he refocused on the game. Hinata just finished up harvesting his watermelons when he suddenly let out a teasing chuckle.

“I wonder if [______] checked.”

Kenma’s thumbs stop. His character was taking incredible amounts of damage, but none of it registered after the mere mention of your name; the pudding-head flushed red. After a moment, he regained composure and went back to smashing buttons, ignoring how slippery his hands just got.

“…Why would they do that?” He muttered.

Hinata shrugged, “Well, just because you’re not curious doesn’t mean they aren’t. Believe it or not, you’re a good looking guy, Kenma-san. And if there’s a fuck-list going around where my s/o might end up on it, I’d wanna be the first to know.”

Hm. Couldn’t argue with that. He always feared you’d end up on the list, but eventually realized it only catered to a certain demographic, mostly focused on the more sociable students, so he figured there was no other reason to care. It’d be a waste of time, Kenma knew for a fact there’d be no chance of him being on it, his outward appearance be damned.

He practically spent his first couple of semesters cooped up in his room, going to class, bare minimum socializing, streamed with his camera off, rinsed and repeated. He didn’t make many new friends during that time, and met you completely by happenstance during a late night cram session in the library; how in the fresh hell would anyone think about fucking him if he rarely gave other people the time of day?

Kenma kissed his teeth, “You’re being annoying.”

Hinata merely flashed a bright grin, leaning over to playfully poke him in the arm. “Don’t mind~!”

The dirty-blonde playfully swatted at the intruding hand, earning a bright laugh and another poke from the ginger just for shits n’ giggles, before he returned back to his video game. Unfortunately, the eyes around him didn’t falter, some being less obvious about it whilst others didn’t even try to hide their blatant staring. After a while it started to get uncomfortable, even Hinata couldn’t help getting concerned once he started to notice.

“Uh…is it just me, or are we drawing in a crowd?”

“I dunno. Maybe they’re just waiting for me to get off the game…” Kenma reasoned. But deep down, something told him that wasn’t the case at all.

After some time passed with the situation not getting any better, he decided to just call it a night. There was no point in trying to relax anymore with all those people pointing and whispering. As he began to leave the game, not bothering to save his progress, his phone buzzed. Immediately, Kenma knew it had to have been you—He kept everyone else on DND. When he unlocked his phone, though, the gamer was shocked to see the overwhelming amount of notifications on the screen, all from his closest friends, minus the one he’s currently with.

It appeared they’d been trying to get his attention for a while. You must’ve been the last resort, as your message urged him to meet at your place. He didn’t need to be told twice, grateful for this escape from the prying eyes of the random bystanders.

“I’m heading over to [_____]’s. Sorry to cut our time short.”

The ginger simply smiled. “It’s okay, know you don’t like crowds. See ya later, Kenma-san!”

Kenma curtly nodded, offering a tiny smile in gratitude. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he made haste for the nearest exit, keeping his gaze locked on the ground until he made it outside. He could feel the eyes following him as he left, making a cold chill run down his spine. He couldn’t wait to get to your place.

When he eventually arrived, his knuckle barely grazed the door before it flew wide open, startling him a little. Before he even had time to catch his jumping heart, you pulled him into your embrace, making him tense up slightly until he soon melted into your familiar warmth. Sanctuary.

“I’m so sorry, Ken. You must be devastated.”

“Um, I’m fine...” he mumbled. Your arms only grew a little tighter around him, as if you were…shielding him? Eventually you pulled back just enough to look at him, searching his eyes for something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. “Why would I be devastated?”

You blinked widely at him. “You mean you hadn’t seen it?”

He squinted, visibly confused, and your silence did little to calm his wariness. Another cold chill traveled down his spine, hairs on the back of his neck standing straight up as he struggled to figure out what this feeling meant. It wasn’t until after you gave a strained smile, sympathy swirling within your gaze, did it eventually hit him like a semi truck. The flooded messages, the suffocating stares, the whispers...It couldn’t be.

He slowly began to shake his head. “No...”

You exhaled. “Yes.”

‘Kenma Kozume. 5′6ft recluse with the mannerisms of a kitten. But don’t let his meek demeanor fool you—it’s always the quiet ones you need to look out for. Though his posture may appear questionable, we all know it’s because of the monster between his legs dragging him down, baggy clothes no doubt concealing an absolute masterpiece of toned skin for you to mark up. The effort he puts into playing video games, don’t expect the same amount in the bedroom. I believe Kenma to be a lazy Switch with Sub energy, who’ll spend most of the session on his back, but that’s okay. We stan a pillow prince. 9/10.’

He looked at your phone with mild disgust. “You’re fucking joking.”

“'fraid not. It was posted less than an hour ago, probably while you were gaming with Hinata. Kuroo was the first to see it, and sent it to the groupchat. That’s why I assumed you had seen it already. Dammit, I knew someone would notice how hot you were sooner or later. And here I thought I was doing a good job gate-keeping you. ”

“Don’t just say stuff like that out loud...” He flushed, tugging on your sleeve in mild embarrassment. After composing himself, Kenma let out an irritated exhale. “What a pain. Whatever, this’ll probably blow over by tomorrow. Someone else will be posted and they’ll forget all about me. Guess I’ll just keep an even lower profile until then. Shouldn’t be too difficult.”

Laying together on your Snorlax beanbag chair, Kenma turned on his stomach to bury himself in the plush cushion, wanting to forget this whole nightmare. But, you weren’t gonna let him wallow so easily. Tugging on the shoulder part of his sleeve to get his attention, Kenma groaned before tilting his head slightly to peek at you with one eye through the curtain of his hair.

“You don’t understand, Ken. Bitches practically froth at the mouth for the sexy, socially awkward, gamer-boy type with the messy hair and lax attitude. I would know, I am bitches!” He snickered softly, rolling his visible eye. “My point is, this most definitely will not blow over by tomorrow. Not when they’re already hooked on the fantasy of you.”

“Exactly, a fantasy.” He said, slightly muffled. Shifting to lay on his back, Kenma rested his arms behind his head as he stared at the ceiling. “Meaning they’ll never get to know the real thing, so eventually they’ll get bored. You shouldn’t work yourself up over this, kitten.”

“Yeah, but what if someone-”

Reaching over, Kenma gently flicked your forehead. With a soft yelp, you half-heartedly glared at him before going to retaliate with your own flick. He merely grinned, eyes full of mirth as he swiftly grabbed the hand and used it to pull you in closer. “They won’t. And even if they do, I'll just get Kuroo to tell one of his lame jokes to scare ‘em off. Problem solved.”

You lightly hit his arm, but still graced him with a laugh. Somewhere on campus, said rooster-head sneezed.

#🍁wasabi #hq #hq!#hq scenarios #hq smut #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu smut #hq kageyama #hq akaashi #hq atsumu #hq kenma #the fuck-it list

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veltana · 6 months

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Riding into the night - Biker!Bucky/Reader

✦ Pairing: Biker!Bucky Barnes/Fem!Reader ✦ Word count: ~7,8k ✦ Rating: Explicit ✦ Warnings/tags: AU, kind of soft!dark!Bucky, smut, fluff, past asshole partners mentioned, squirting, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, spanking, spitting, edging, dirty talk, praise, degradation if you squint, breeding kink if you squint, manhandling, vaginal sex, condom, cum shot, pet names (Fairy). ✦ Summary: One of the bikers caught your attention as they tumbled inside. Tall, broad, covered in tattoos, and wearing a leather vest. Essentially no different from the rest of the gang. But those blue eyes met yours and for a second the world stood still. It was only you and him. ✦ Note: I don't know how to play pool, just go with it! 😂 This is also posted on my AO3

Masterlist | AO3

It was Yelena's bachelorette party and after dinner and clubbing, she insisted you find a less respectable place to round out the night.

That’s how you end up in the sleazy bar at the edge of town that smells of sweat, stale beer, and badly fried food. The drinks are watered down but it doesn't tamper the mood of the party, because they have a few pool tables strewn about, and you never miss an opportunity to crush your friends with a few good games. The only problem is the group of bikers that rolled in fifteen minutes ago, filling up the rather empty bar with their loud voices.

As you're bending over the table to aim you can't shake the feeling of being watched. It throws off your concentration and you don’t hit the ball where you want, making you fail the shot. Righting yourself you sigh with irritation.

"That's not like you," Natasha points out as she gets ready for her turn. With a shrug you say, "Maybe I'd just had too much to drink." Yelena snorts, "I've seen you drunk enough to barely stand and still beat everyone." She waggles her eyebrows, "I think it's a pair of blue eyes that's distracting you."

You give her the finger, but you know exactly what she's talking about. One of the bikers caught your attention as they tumbled inside. Tall, broad, covered in tattoos, and wearing a leather vest. Essentially no different from the rest of the gang. But those blue eyes met yours and for a second the world stood still. It was only you and him. It felt as if diving into a clear blue lake on a hot summer day with not a problem in the world for you to care about. Then you realized you were staring and quickly looked away, breaking the small hypnosis.

Despite having had the most to drink all night, Yelena's observation skills never evade her. She saw what happened and she'd be damned if she let an opportunity to taunt you go to waste.

Quickly shooting a glance at the table, you find the man with the blue eyes. Unabashedly he's staring at you from where he sits. The others around him are talking, laughing, being rowdy, but not him. He takes a drink from his beer in silence, tattooed fingers holding the bottle, and never once does his gaze waver from you. His dark hair is in a ponytail but small strands have broken free to be tucked behind his ears.

You wouldn't say you have a type, but if you did, it wouldn't be him. You like nice guys. So far not anyone you've dated has had a single tattoo. On the other hand, you don't have to date him to fuck him. And that is something you're in desperate need of.

"And now she doesn't even realize it's her turn!" Carol breaks you from your musings and you look at the pool table. Shaking out your shoulders you try to dispel the feeling of eyes boring into your neck. Surveying what you have in front of you, a plan forms in your mind.

"Oh, I know that look!" Natasha shouts unnecessarily loud. She’s had the second most to drink through the night. You and Carol on the other hand are as close to sober as it gets.

Taking a breath, you get into position. In quick succession, you hit three shots dead on and they go right where they should, but when you move to the fourth, Carol is leaning against the edge. "You're in the way," you tell her. "I know!" she smiles. "Can you move?" "No, unfortunately not."

You try to push her off but she's solid muscles. Natasha and Yelena laugh at your failed attempts. "You know I'm going to win this anyway, right?" "I don't have to make it easy for you," she points out.

There is only one other option if you want to make the shot. So you climb up, sitting down on the edge to lean awkwardly past Carol. Just as you move the cue, she taps the edge, causing it to graze the top of the ball and then slide off. "Hey!" Hopping down, you poke her with the stick. "That's cheating!" "It's not like you to miss, are you feeling okay?" she grins. "You're such a sore loser, you know that?" "I have no idea what you're talking about." "My turn!" Natasha yells and shoves you to the side.

You take a few steps back and walk into something solid. Craning your neck to look up over your shoulder you freeze. It's him. The heat from his chest warms you and you're enveloped in his smell of fuel, beer, and cologne that is in no way unpleasant. "How about I buy you a drink as compensation for losing?” his smooth voice asks. That should make you mad because technically you didn't lose, Carol sabotaged you, but it's hard to conjure those feelings when your insides feel as if they’re liquefying. Instead, you nod dumbly before turning to your friends.

"Hey, is it okay-," you start but Yelena won't let you finish. She just waves her hand in a shooing motion and the others don't acknowledge your supposed question. "I'm just going to put this back," you gesture with your cue, but another, equally tall biker comes up beside the man with the blue eyes.

His hair is shorter and blond, cute, but not as drop-dead gorgeous as the other. "I'll take it, play your last rounds," he smiles and grabs the stick, before making his way to your friends.

With a grin, the man with the blue eyes nods his head towards the bar and you follow the short distance. When both of you have taken your places on the high chairs he asks, "What do you want?" "Just a beer's fine," you shrug. He orders from the bartender and then turns to you. "I'm Bucky," he says. After introducing yourself you ask, "Is that your real name or is it your ‘biker-name’?". He chuckles and puts a strand of long hair behind his ear. "It's actually a nickname I've had since I was a kid. And Steve," he gestures to the big guy who took your pool cue earlier, "Has always called me that. My legal name is James."

"But you prefer Bucky?" He shrugs, "I don't think anyone has called me James in a long time." "It's a pretty name, but Bucky sounds cooler. Way more biker!” you smile. That makes him laugh and you find yourself beaming. There is just something about him. He looks tough on the outside but you have a feeling he's a big teddy bear on the inside, and hearing him laugh makes you giddy.

The beer gets lower in your glass as you talk. He buys you another one but is still sipping on his first. "Not a fan of beer?" you ask. "I want to be able to get home in one piece later, and getting drunk is a recipe for crashing." "Have you ever crashed?" "Multiple times, but never anything severe." "What kind of bike do you have?" "I can show you." There is a glint in his eyes that makes your gut clench most pleasantly. "I would love to!"

When you hop off the stool, you lose your balance for a second. Yelena insisted that you all wear heels but you're not used to it in any way. Luckily, Bucky is quick with his arm, putting it around your waist and pulling you into his side to steady you. "Woah there, lightweight. I didn’t know anyone could get drunk off that beer." "I'm not drunk, it's these damn shoes! lost my balance!" "I better keep my arm around you, just to be safe." His smile is warm and playful and it’s as if his touch is burning your skin through your clothes. Your heart speeds up, fingertips tingle. "Yeah, just to be safe," you answer in a low voice.

His eyelids lower, blue eyes turning stormy. Electricity crackles between you and you wonder what he tastes like. But making out in the middle of a bar feels weird so instead you say, "About the bike?" "Yeah, the bike,” he murmurs and it takes a second or two for him to start moving again.

Before you leave, you stop by the pool table where the majority of the bikers have joined the small party. Someone has taken the tiara Yelena previously wore and put it on Steve's head. Another guy is wearing her sash. She's telling them about her wife-to-be, showing them all the cute pictures she's taken of Kate. As you pass Natasha you tell her, "We're just going to look at his bike." She eyes you up and down. "If that is some biker-slang for sex, just say that instead."

Bucky howls with laughter as you punch her in the arm, telling her to fuck off. She brushes her skin. "I think there are mosquitoes in here."

Before you can give her a piece of your mind Bucky drags you outside. It’s a warm evening and you’re glad because you only have a thin blouse on. "You're not a mosquito,” he comforts. “You’re too pretty for that, more like a fairy covered in all that glitter.” Your tummy loops when he calls you pretty and you look down at yourself. At some point, Carol had produced a can of glitter spray to drench all of you in. "I think there is a joke in there about sucking, but I can't find it right now,” you tell him instead, which makes him chuckle before stopping in front of a huge black bike. It's one of those chopper-esc things, not the sporty kind, and in the light from the streets, it looks menacing. "That's a monster," you point out. "It's not that bad." "It's standing still and I'm scared of it."

Bucky moves you from his side to the front of him, making you take a few steps closer. Then he grabs your wrist and puts your hand on the handlebar. "See, it's not so scary," his voice is low, right by your ear, making you shiver. "Yeah, it is," you mumble. "Promise I won't let anything happen to you if you hop on." You look up at him over your shoulder. "You underestimate how clumsy I am. What if it tips over?" "It won't," "Just, don't kill me when it happens, okay?"

What he says next is so faint you almost don't catch it. "There are other punishments I would rather use." Somehow your brain filters that into the purely sexual category and another shiver runs through you. Yeah, Bucky seems like the person who would administer sexual punishments. That is something you've never explored before but it still sends a tingle of excitement down your stomach.

Ignoring it for the moment you swing your leg over the saddle and settle on the seat. The tank in front of you has a huge red star on it and you trace it with your fingertips. "How does that feel?" he smiles down at you. The shadows make him look as menacing as his bike but he feels a lot less scary.

"Okay, I guess," you shrug and try to reach the handlebars but your arms are too short to properly grip them. "How do you even…?" "Scoot over and I'll show you." He gestures and you slide backward before he gets on like he's never done anything else in his life, gripping the handles without a problem.

"Should I start it up?" he asks over his shoulder. You shake your head vigorously, "Absolutely not!" He gets off the bike, just to straddle it the opposite way so he's turned towards you. First, he grabs your legs and puts them over his thighs, then pulls you closer with his hands on your waist. Your breathing gets shallow being so close to him. "Then how am I supposed to take you home, Fairy?" You grab a hold of his vest to steady yourself. "You wanna take me home?" "It's all I've been thinking about since I walked through the door tonight," he confesses.

"Oh," you just answer. His hands are warm through your blouse, the blue eyes piercing despite the low light. There is no denying you want him, you do, but going off with a stranger makes you weary. "Come on Fairy, tell me you don't feel the same?" "Yeah I do, it's just that I don't know you." You brush your hands inside his vest, letting them travel over the broad expanse of his chest, feeling him through his t-shirt.

For a moment you sit quietly and touch each other. Your brain is going a million miles per hour, weighing pros and cons. Bucky doesn’t seem like a psychopath who will rape and murder you. But on the other hand, he might as well be. "Then how about this," he suggests. "I go back in there and let your friends take a pic of me, leave my address and if you don't check in by midnight they can call the police." Your mouth hangs open. "You want to fuck me that bad?"

"I don't think you understand," he seems a little frustrated and his hands harden at your waist even though his voice stays soft. Leaning down, brushing his nose against yours, he explains, "Not only are you the sexiest thing I've seen in a long while. You're gorgeous. On top of that, I've learned in the last hour, that you’re funny and sweet too. So indulge me, let me take you home and show you just how good I can make you feel."

Your mouth is dry as a desert. No one has ever spoken to you like that before. No one has in such a short time made you feel so desired. Finally, you decide to go with your gut, hoping it’s not going to turn out to be a terrible mistake. "Okay, Bucky," you nod.

With a wicked smile, he gets off the bike and walks back to the bar. You take out your phone and quickly write in the group chat, telling them your location is on and sending them a picture of his bike with the red star showing.

It takes longer for Bucky to come back than you thought it would and when he emerges, you notice his vest is gone. "What happened?" "That red-headed friend of yours gave me a stern talking to, and made me leave the vest." "Why?" "She said it seemed important to me, and you're important to her, and if I do something to hurt you she's going to do unspeakable things to the vest and my reputation."

That makes you laugh. Natasha may antagonize you on a regular basis but she's also fiercely protective.

He snatches a helmet from the bike beside and turns to you. "Ever ridden one of these before?" "Not a motorcycle! I've ridden a regular bike." He huffs at that before listing off some do's and don'ts. "But the most important thing," he finishes. "Is that you hold on to me really tight." He smirks, before putting the helmet on your head, tightening the straps. It's a little big but you don't think it will come off.

Bucky gets on and the bike roars to life. Telling you to hold on to him was unnecessary because the moment the sound and feel of the bike hits you, your arms go around his waist and grab onto his clothes. Your heart is hammering and you feel a nervous sweat run down your neck. He never puts a helmet on and before you know it you're flying down the streets.

You have no idea how much time passes or where you are in the city since you’re devoting all of your concentration to hanging onto him. Finally, he slows down and drives into a parking garage attached to a high-rise building. Cars stand in neat rows and he parks in an unoccupied space before getting off.

With shaky fingers, you try to open the clasp to the helmet but fail three times before he notices and does it for you. "That bad huh?" he asks as he hangs the helmet on the handle. "I don't think I can stand," you confess.

As you get off, Bucky holds you to his chest until the ground stabilizes around you. You take the opportunity to study him. There are crow's feet at the edge of his eyes that tell you he smiles a lot. Above the cleft in his chin is his full lips that you've been eyeing for most of the evening. They look soft and delicious.

Your hands travel up and braid behind his neck. Experimentally you pull, seeing if he'll follow, and he does. "I think a kiss would also help," you hint. "Who am I to say no," he hums in response.

As he bends down, you rise up and your lips meet halfway. At first, it's slow but you're both a bit desperate and it quickly gets heavier. Your finger loosens the hair tie and tangles in his long strands, pulling lightly, drawing a pleased sound from his throat. In response, he cups your ass and lifts you off the ground to pull you closer. A surprised moan leaves you before you wrap your legs around his waist and he starts walking. He breaks away just so he can find the button for the elevator, then he is right back to your lips.

Inside, he presses you up against the wall hard enough to get his hands free. They slide up your sides, in under your blouse, making you sigh into his mouth from contentment, fisting the hair at the nape of his neck harder, pressing him closer. Too quickly, but also not quickly enough the elevator dings with the announcement of its arrival on the floor.

Once again Bucky carries you to the door where he fumbles with the keys before getting it open, never breaking from your mouth.

You don't see much of the inside of his apartment because as soon as the door shuts you start pulling at his clothes, wanting them off, to feel his warm skin. The sheets are blue and the bed soft you notice as he places you down on it. With pants and blouse off, the next thing that goes is your bra and he stops the feverish kissing long enough to take you in.

"Fairy," his voice is grovely. "Fuck!" Is all he says before he gently cups your tits, thumbing your nipples and drawing small pleased sounds from you. The fabric of your panties is soaked and every pass over your sensitive peaks shoots another bolt of desire through you.

"Bucky! Can you… please!" you try. It's hard to form words. In an alarmingly short period, he’s got you unbelievably horny and all you can think about is that you need to be touched, to come!

Still playing with your tits he asks, "What do you need Fairy? Tell me what I can do for you." "Take the rest of your damn clothes off and eat me out, or finger me, or something! I'm dying!" "We don't want that now do we?" he smirks and bends down enough to give each of your nipples a kiss. When the last of his clothes go, you suck in a breath because he looks fucking divine. Just like his arms and fingers, his chest and abdomen are covered in tattoos but it doesn't hide the powerful muscles underneath. “You are… wow…” you tell him and swallow roughly. Before you have time to inspect every swirl of ink, he climbs onto the bed and starts up where he left off. His mouth trailing down from your sternum, over your stomach, dragging his teeth tantalizingly over your hip bones, kissing your mound before carefully ridding you of your underwear.

He spreads you with his thumbs, moaning when he sees how wet you are. "Fairy, I think your cunt likes me," he teases. You're about to grip his head and shove his mouth to where you need it, telling him to shut up and get going, but luckily he doesn’t waste any more time.

The cry of pleasure that leaves your mouth is probably heard by the neighbors. Feeling him work you over sends your head spinning and your body twitching. With his tongue and his lips, he tries different pressures and speeds just to see what makes you moan the loudest. "Fingers, Bucky! I need your fingers!" you tell him and seconds later two thick digits start pumping in and out of you, crooking every now and then to find the right spot.

It builds inside you in no time, the dual sensation making it brilliant. But what you feel as you near the edge makes you put your hands against his forehead, pushing and saying, "Wait! Bucky, stop." Hastily he pulls away, fingers leaving you, eyes wide and confused as he sits up. "What is it? Did I hurt you?"

Panting heavily, trying to get your quivering body under control, you wave your hand. "No, no, it's fine! Don't worry!" Then he dares touch you again. His hands slide up and down your inner thighs in a soothing gesture. "Tell me what's wrong. Do you want to stop?" His voice is as soft as his gaze on you.

"God no, I don't want to stop! It's just, ehm…" you feel the embarrassment in your chest, heating you from the inside in an unpleasant way. "Please tell me, Fairy. We can do whatever you want." You try to explain in as roundabout terms as possible, "Sometimes… when it's really good… I can't control what my body does." If you had been smart you would have had this conversation before getting into bed with him, but you weren’t, so now you have to face the unpleasant consequences. "Fairy, what are you saying?" Burying your face in your hands you continue, "Sometimes it's only a little and sometimes it's a lot, but I don't know beforehand so it's better to stop and let me calm down a bit."

There is a beat of silence before his command cuts through it, "Look at me." Slowly you lower your hands. "Were you about to squirt?" he asks point blank. "I hate that word,” you mutter. "Tell me, Fairy," he commands again. "Yes, I'm sorry. I can't control it, it happens!” You’ve had this conversation before, usually after it was already too late and you know how it goes. Luckily you remembered to stop. You’re not sure you would have been able to live it down if it had happened with Bucky. But he does not look happy at all, his eyes near slits, and you reach out towards him, letting your palms graze along his arms to placate him. “I've calmed down now so we can keep going if you want. It rarely happens when I have sex so we can just do that!"

"No," his cold tone answers and your stomach drops. Before you can crawl off the bed to go home he says, "Turn over, ass up, head down." "Bucky, I can just…" You aim your thumb at the door but he doesn’t acknowledge the gesture, only telling you, "Do it, Fairy."

Confused but also curious you turn over on your stomach and bring your knees in under you, doing as you’re told. His hands start making slow steady circles over your ass, caressing and squeezing. "Have you ever been spanked before?" "What?" "You heard me. Have you?" "No… not really…" "So, because you robbed me of your fountain orgasm I'm going to spank you as a punishment. And then you're going to turn over again and I'm going to make you come until you've ruined the sheets. Are we clear, Fairy?" "But, I just thought-,” you begin but he interrupts you. "Whatever someone has said to you before to make you think that you don't deserve to come as hard as you can, makes me so fucking angry. I want all of your pleasure, Fairy, and you're going to give it to me. Understand?" Once again you’re surprised by his words and you give yourself the benefit of the doubt that he knows what he’s in for. With a soft voice, you tell him, "I understand Bucky," and arch your back, showing him that you're ready. "Fucking beautiful."

The sting to your ass is more pleasure than pain. With every impact from his hand, a jolt goes to your cunt. If you were wet before, you're dripping by the time he declares you're done. Each of your ass cheeks gets a kiss before he pushes at your hip and makes you lay on your back again, the sheets cool against your heated skin. He crawls up over you, giving you a long hard kiss. "How are you feeling?" "Very horny," you confess. "Ready to come for me?" "Absolutely, Bucky!"

In no time, he’s back between your legs and starts as he did before, licking and tasting you until you're begging for his fingers. The combination of your slick and his saliva have wetness running down your ass, making a puddle below you. Since you were already so close before you made him stop, it doesn't take long for the coil to wind tight in your lower belly. It’s the same feeling as earlier and you warn him before it happens. "Bucky, I'm going to come!" For a second he lets up to tell you, "Please do, Fairy, I want every last drop."

Maybe it's because of the unplanned edging together with the spanking or it's because Bucky knows exactly what to do with his hands and mouth, or everything combined, but when you arch off the bed with a mind-boggling orgasm, the sides of your vision go hazy and your legs spasm hard. You think you hear Bucky moan but the blood is rushing in your ears.

Panting worse than before you sink into the bed, body lax with the release and you look down to see the unmistakable sign of your climax. Not only are your thighs wet, but the sheets are a shade or two darker, and Bucky is wiping his smirking face with the edge of the cover.

Biting your lip you try to not feel too much shame, but it's hard after years of being told it's disgusting. Although he said he wanted it, maybe he didn't know what he signed up for. "Sorry," you finally say. "Don't ever say that to me again after coming, Fairy. That was fucking amazing!" "Everything is wet." "Everything can be washed," he reassures you. Then he gets off the bed to rummage through a drawer, pulling out a condom. When he turns to you he says, "Now be a good little Fairy and grab your legs for me so I can fuck that sweet cunt of yours."

You watch with anticipation as he rolls the condom on before you pull your legs up, holding behind your knees. As he gets on the bed again, he takes a second to swipe his cock-head through your slick, lubing himself up, but you're impatient, whining and wiggling to get him inside.

"Yeah, yeah, don't worry, you'll get my cock," he’s trying to scold you but it gets lost when he can’t take his eyes away from the view of pressing inside you. The sensation being carried from your cunt throughout your body as he steadily fills you more and more makes your breathing labored and your hands clamping down on your legs harder. "God, that's a pretty fucking pussy taking all my cock," his voice is so low it travels through you like a baseline. Slowly he pulls out and presses in again, mesmerized by what he's seeing, but for you, it's just pure torture.

"Bucky, I need more!" you beg. His answer isn't to fuck you harder or faster like you want. Instead, he spits on your exposed cunt, making you gasp before he presses a thumb against your oversensitive clit. A loud moan rips from your throat and your legs shake. “You get so fucking tight when I touch your clit, feels amazing!”

He keeps the thumb still as he fucks you. Slow, deep thrusts that keep you right on the edge of coming. If he just moved his finger and sped up a little you'd be flying again. But he seems determined to drag this out, his groans and moans are telling you that he's enjoying it very much. Bucky's eyes keep shifting from your face to your chest, down to where you're connected, watching his cock spear you.

Suddenly he removes his hand, but before you can sound a word of protest he's leaned forward, using both his hands to grab the back of your neck. He bends your head down and lifts you from the bed a little until there is no mistake what he wants you to see. “Watch your pussy take all of my cock, Fairy. It belongs there. As if it was fucking made for me. Sucking me right back in every time I pull out.”

Briefly, he lets you have what you need, fucking you faster, slamming into you, making you feel him deep as you watch your body take him over and over again. You understand why he can’t stop watching. It’s filthy at the same time it turns you on more. In desperation, you reach down to touch yourself but he lets you go, making you bounce against the bed slightly before batting your hands away. Then he pulls out and you cry in protest. “No! Bucky! I wanna come! Fuck me!”

Sweat is glistening on his naked chest and his cock stands out from his body, the condom shiny with your slick, but he doesn't acknowledge your plea, only tells you. “On your stomach. Grab a pillow and put it under your hips.”

The pulse in your cunt is uncomfortable, almost unbearable, and you glare at him, having half a mind to just finish off yourself and get some god damned relief. Bucky raises an eyebrow in question as to why you're not doing as he says. With an irritated huff, you turn over, grabbing a pillow and stuffing it under your hips, folding your arms and laying your head on them with a pout, clearly showing him that you're not happy.

The swat to your ass makes you yelp since it's much harder than when he spanked you earlier. It earns him a glare over your shoulder. “Don't be bratty, Fairy,” he reprimands you before his knees push your legs wider and he presses into you swiftly again. He pulls your hands out from under your head, lacing your fingers together before laying down on top of you, kissing your shoulder.

“We were having such a good time,” he says as he starts fucking you again. The new angle makes his dick press right against your g-spot, forcing a whine out of you. Even though you don’t want to give him the satisfaction you can’t help to push your ass against him. With all his weight on top of you, it's hard to move, but your body craves him. “But now you're mad at me, Fairy. What can I do to make it better?” Rutting harder he sends white-hot pleasure through you. You've never been able to come from penetration alone, but the way your body feels makes you think that this might do the trick. “I want to come!” you almost sob.

“Yeah, I know Fairy. Don't forget that I can feel every little pulse of your cunt around me.” There is no comfort to be found in his tone. “Why are you being so mean?!” you cry. That makes him laugh into your neck. “Oh little Fairy. This is not me being mean. This is me wanting to give you the pleasure of your life.” He nips at your skin. “We could have been done a long while ago. You feel so good I could come any second. But I don't want that.” His hands squeeze yours. “I want you to always remember this. No matter what happens after, it'll be seared into your memories. Every time you're with someone else you'll wish it was me fucking you.”

The little show of possession makes your heart beat double and you're about to tell him you don't want to be with anyone else ever again, but that's crazy, so instead you respond with what you hope will get you what you need. “Then fuck me like you fucking mean it because right now your performance is mediocre at its best,” trying and failing to sound unaffected. This time his laugh is tinged with something cruel and you have a second to wonder what the hell you've let loose before he raises himself, pressing your joint hands into the bed to keep his weight on, and then starting to fuck you in earnest.

A sharp cry is forced from you by the brutal thrusts. The angle is much better and your body starts burning from the inside. Screams, moans, and pleas all tumble together from your lips.

Every time you think you might be close to coming he slows down, just enough to keep you from reaching any kind of high. That makes you livid and when you curse him out, he releases your hands, instead placing them between your shoulder blades, pressing you down hard into the mattress, before starting up again.

“I wish I had a vibrator to shove between your legs. Put it on the highest setting and force you to come over and over again. You'd be begging me to stop instead, trying to run away, crying. I bet you'd look real pretty sobbing.”

Your cunt clenches hard at the mental image he's presenting. You can't decide if that would be worse than this. Your body feels like a livewire, ready to release all the pent-up pleasure that has accumulated in your body. All it needs is the right touch at the right place.

One moment you’re on your front, and in the next, he’s flipped you over on your back again. You don’t even have the presence of mind to be surprised because he’s instantly inside you, your legs over his shoulders and his hands gripping your head, kissing you fiercely. It’s teeth and tongue and lips in a jumble. With his pelvis pressing against your clit it drives you fast towards the edge. “I need to see your face when you lose it on my cock,” he rests his forehead on yours. Despite his words, he slows down when it starts to climb inside you. You groan, almost in pain, the edging is making you feel crazy. Over and over again he refuses you the release you’re so desperately after.

A little too late you realize that maybe there is something you can do, instead of begging, that will get you what you want. “I wish you could come inside me,” you whisper, looking right into his eyes, clenching around him when you speak. When he groans you know you’ve hit the spot, but you press down the grin. “You want to fill me up with your cum, Bucky?” you ask before you give him a ruthless kiss. “Yeah fuck, Fairy!” He thrusts hard in response. “Better fuck me good then, and maybe I'll come back and let you do it.”

“Oh Fairy,” he growls and moves one hand to the headboard, gripping it, the other grasping the base of your skull. “You’ll come back. I'll have you outside my door, on your knees, begging for my cock.” The pace he sets has the bed creaking disconcertingly. “Maybe I'll even let you in, crawling on all fours.”

As his voice paints the picture of your submission, the climax mounts in you. Bucking up against him, you try to get more when he’s already giving you everything. All thoughts about teasing him are forgotten with the immediate pleasure. “Don't stop-don't stop-don't stop!” You chant. “Never, Fairy. Come on my dick. Let me see you.”

Your vision goes spotty when the orgasm hits, your throat screaming his name, body convulsing in a way you’ve never experienced before. Afterward, your body goes limp, twitching with aftershocks as Bucky seeks his own release. Maybe you can't have him come inside you, but you want something more. “Come on me,” you tell him in a hoarse voice. “Fuck! What?” He’s so beautiful above you with his hair hanging down in his face, sweat making his skin shine, the clear desperation and shock on his face. “Paint me with your cum, please Bucky,” you say once again. “God dammit, Fairy! Fuck!” He sits back and rips the condom off. A few swipes are all it takes and he's shooting ropes up your stomach and chest, blue eyes wide and staring as if he can't believe it, moaning your name loudly in his deep voice. It makes you grin like the Cheshire cat, knowing you can affect him just as much as he does you.

He sags down beside you, panting heavily. You never want to move but as the sweat and cum start to cool, your heart calms down, and you start feeling something else.

“Oh, I think I…” you mumble, looking down between your legs. “When I came I…” “You squirted?” Bucky chuckles at your unwillingness to say the word. “Yeah. That usually doesn't happen with sex.” “It did. You almost pushed my dick out when you came too.” He kisses your shoulder and up your neck. You turn your head to meet him in a soft kiss. “You also called me James,” he smiles against your lips.

You stare at him in horror as your mind catches up with what he’s saying and you realize you did in fact do that. “Oh god,” You wish you could sink through the bed and continue into the earth's core. “I don't know why I did that!” He kisses you again. “Don't worry, I liked it,” he reassures you.

After some more kissing, the various bodily fluids on your skin compel you to get up and head for the bathroom to clean yourself up. When you're done you study yourself for a moment in the mirror, thinking that you’ll see something different after you've just been fucked within an inch of your sanity, but you look just the same.

When you get back to the bedroom, Bucky has stripped the bed and is in the process of putting new sheets on. After you help him, you start looking for your clothes, thinking you'll take a cab home, but Bucky stops you by pulling you into a warm embrace. “You need to text your friends. I prefer my vest and my reputation untarnished.”

With a laugh you move to find your phone and when you do you notice you have a bunch of notifications. It's well past midnight.

It seems as if he doesn't want to be far away from you because as you’re writing a reply, he comes up behind you and hugs you close. Suddenly you have a better idea and stop what you’re doing, instead, you take a picture of the two of you, aiming it to just show your bare upper shoulders and your faces. The flash goes off in the dim room and when you see the picture you giggle. What you couldn't tell in the mirror, the picture clearly shows. Two fucked out people. You send it with just a short line about being alive.

When you're done you turn in Bucky's arms. “Satisfied?” “In more ways than one,” he smiles cheekily before kissing you. After a lazy make-out session standing naked in the middle of the room, you begin to pull away. “I need to-” “Stay,” Bucky finishes for you, tightening his arms. “Stay?” “Yeah, I'll make you breakfast tomorrow and then take you home.” “You don't have to,” you tell him. “Indulge me?” “Fine,” you sigh as if it’s a great burden. “I guess I could stay, but if you don't cuddle me, I'm leaving.” He pinches your ass in reprimand, making you jump. “You have no idea what you've signed up for, Fairy.”

True to his words Bucky hardly lets you out of bed, even in the morning when you need to use the bathroom. When you come back he holds up the cover and pats the mattress. As soon as you're beside him he pulls you in closer, putting his face in the crook of your neck and mouthing at your skin. A pleasurable sigh leaves you as you snuggle in closer to his warm body. Although the both of you were naked together the night before you never had time to explore his body, so now you let your hands roam everywhere they can reach.

Bucky lets his own hands travel over your skin, but those touches don’t stay innocent long and soon his erection is pressed into your stomach. Taking pity on him you spit in your palm and grab him, making him hiss at the contact before you lazily start pumping him. When he tries to reach between your legs you push his hand away. “No, let me take care of you,” you say sternly. “Whatever you say, Fairy,” he groans and thrusts into your palm.

There is no finesse to it all, just a quick morning hand job. He comes between your bodies, dirtying the sheets. When you see his eyelids starting to close again you poke him and they fly open. “You promised me breakfast!” “You just missed it,” he winks. In response, you roll your eyes before getting up. “Men!”

Instead of pulling on your jeans and the blouse drenched in glitter from the night before you snag the t-shirt he was wearing and find your discarded panties. The t-shirt barely covers your ass but at least you're semi-dressed as you go out into the kitchen to find something to eat.

Muttering under his breath about you being a stubborn woman he follows you in sweatpants and a fresh henly. Before you can find the coffee he hauls you up and puts you on the kitchen island, boxing you in with his arms on either side, lowering himself to glare at you. “Instead of opening every cupboard in the whole damn kitchen, tell me what you want and I'll make it.” “Coffee, with milk and sugar.” “And to eat?” “What do you usually make for the women you bring home?” you tease.

That makes him rise to his full height, looking down at you, and crossing his arms. “You think I have a habit of bringing women home and fucking them like I did you last night?” “You didn't get that good by theorizing,” you point out. “There hasn't been anyone, in a long time, Fairy,” his voice is suddenly soft as he cups your cheeks. You have another teasing comment on your lips but think better of it when you see his guarded look.

Instead, you put your arms around his waist and pull him in between your legs, resting your chin against his sternum to look up at him. “Then you make me whatever you want. But I don't like fish.” With a smile, he asks, “How about scones?” “Sounds perfect.”

When you’re done with breakfast he puts you on the table, insisting that he needs dessert and showing a much gentler side than the night before as he strums your body until you tell him you can't come anymore. Then he carries you to the couch and puts on a random channel. Together you watch reruns until you slide down his body to give him some of his own medicine. No matter how much he begs, you take your sweet time tasting him and when he comes it’s with a roar of your name. After some more cuddles and a nap, you convince him that you actually need to go home.

Just as you're about to head out there is a knock on the door and Bucky opens it to find Steve outside, holding his vest. Earlier he explained that Steve lives a few apartments down the hall. “I was told to give this to you.” Bucky takes it and inspects it quickly before hanging it up. To you, it seems untarnished.

“Hope Nat didn't give you too hard a time,” you smile. Assuming they'd stayed late at the bar and when she'd seen your text she'd given it to Steve. His eyes quickly flick away and there is a blush on his cheek. “No, no, it was fine.” You narrow your eyes and study him, noticing a small red bite mark on his neck. “Oh my god!” you exclaim and start laughing. Steve blushes even more. Bucky looks confused between the two of you. “What?” In a very loud whisper, you tell him, “I think Nat is at Steve's place.” Bucky's eyes glimmer with mirth and he looks at him. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Steve waves and heads back down the hall. Just as he pulls the door open you yell. “Tell her I said hi!”

Fortunately, Bucky also has a car, and as he drives you home, he keeps his hand on your thigh the entire time. Outside your apartment, he turns to you. “I want to see you again,” he says. “Okay.” You want that too. So much! “When?” “Tomorrow ideally but if that doesn't work, how about a date on Friday?” You could do tomorrow but you feel yourself already falling for him. Some distance would do you good, so you say, “Friday sounds great! Give me your phone.” You type in your number and save it under the fairy emoji before sending yourself a text. Then you save him under a motorcycle emoji.

Before you can get out he pulls you in for a long, deep kiss. “Now go before I kidnap you and keep you warm in my bed all week.” “Don't tempt me with a good time,” you wink and give him one last peck before getting out. In an act of pure self-preservation, you don't look back.

After a long shower, and checking your phone a million times throughout the evening to see if he’s texted, you come to the realization that you will never make it to Friday. You: [If I told you that I’ve changed my mind and want to see you tomorrow, would that make me seem desperate?] The response is quick. Bucky: {No more than I feel right now. I’ll pick you up after work. When do you get off?} Refusing to let an opportunity like that go to waste, you reply. [Preferably quicker than last night. I’m not sure I’m a fan of edging ;)] {Fairy, don’t make me spank you again. Off of work.} [I’ve told you not to tempt me with a good time ;) I get off at four]

#bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #biker!bucky #biker!bucky barnes #veltana writes

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gyusrose · 19 days

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➵ how they would punish you during sex -> hyung line

lost this request my bad!!! but here it is :)

✎ smut! (mdni)

⚠︎ spanking, degrading, denying orgasm, nicknames like good girl, baby etc. , hair pulling, cursing, blowjob.

summary: while it’s fun acting like a brat, regret swallows you whole soon.

( hyung line x fem.reader)

heeseung -> this man would NOT let you cum for fucks sake. heeseung is very determined, even your glistening tears rolling down your cheeks, begging him to let you come would not change his mind.

he knew you did it on purpose, acting like a brat all day, even in front of his friends. he had to put you in your place. as soon as the both of you got home, he was already balls deep inside of you, knowing that’s what you wanted, what you didn’t know though is that he would pull his fingers away from your pussy as you were about to reach your climax, how he would retract his cock as soon as he saw you about to cum, this lasted for hours. it turned into to something you would usually enjoy to complete torture.

“please hee i need- please i need to cum.” you said desperately. barely being able to form a sentence.

“aw is my little baby frustrated? should’ve thought about that before acting the way you acted today huh?” he chuckled, he’s come many times so he doesn’t mind keeping you like this.

“please please i promise to be a good girl, please i just need to..”

“just because you apologized, cum baby, cum all over that cock.” you didn’t have to be told twice.

jongseong -> jay is normally a very passionate lover when it comes to sex, gentle and sweet, making it all about you. yet when you start acting up, he knows how to fix that.

he becomes a lot more aggressive, spanking you over and over as he fucked you from behind. leaving his hand marks tattooed on your throbbing red asscheek. pulling your hair making sure he could see you fucked out face. he would not allow you to touch him in any way shape or form. even when he switched positions, now fucking you in missionary, your hands would automatically got to his biceps and back, jay instantly smacked your hands away earning whining from you. you needed to touch him, and he sure as fuck knew that. his face cold and emotionless, a complete different person than he usually was.

“aw fuck!! a-ah” another slap on your ass echoed through the room, you know damn well you won’t be able to sit tommorow.

“that’s for flirting with that asshole, acting like a slut in front of me.”

“please baby, let me touch-“

“what did i fucking tell you? no touching, or do you not want to cum?” your fingers tangled through your head in frustration.

after though, jay knows you’ve learned your lesson, and his kind, gentle persona comes back, making sure to run you a hot bath and making you something to eat after.

sunghoon -> please sunghoon would be so cocky. after wearing the skirt he explicitly told you now to wear in front of the other guys, he knew you wanted to tease him. he could not handle the stares his friends would give you when you walked. they all wanted to fuck you. you knew that. having sunghoon and you leave early and pretty much throw you into bed, manhandling you like a rag doll.

this is what you wanted, right? wrong, completely wrong, this is not what you expected at all. sunghoon was thrusting painfully slow. taking his sweet time entering inch by inch. going in and out of your cunt slower than a snail, driving you insane. you had very little patience, sunghoon, on the other hand did.

you tried moving your hips, trying to fasten the pace, but sunghoon gripped them, stopping them. you groaned, begged even to the point of tears. wanting, no, needing more. sunghoon only laughed in amusement. he rarely saw you like this, so submissive.

“hoonie, i’m begging please, just move a little more, please please i can’t take it anymore!” you begged for maybe the 100th time.

“awe, since you asked so nicely baby, i’ll grant you that wish.” he said before he slammed into you full force, fucking deep into you, sending you into oblivion. you could see stars.

“promise you’ll never act like that ever again.” sunghoon said.

“no hoon, i’ll never do that again, ever!” you’ll probably do it again.

jaeyun -> he normally wouldn’t punish you but, jake still knew how to frustrate you and ruin sex for you. when he saw you laughing so closely with his friends while practically ignoring his existence, he couldn’t wait to get you home, gagging on his cock, gasping for air as he fucked your face.

and that’s exactly what he did.

it was a lost cause, you felt his tip at the back of your throat, making you gag, while jake would normally not push you all the way, he did today. not caring that you obviously couldn’t take him whole and just using your mouth as a hole he could fuck into. the lewd noises of your gagging and moist from all the saliva around his cock drive him insane. but that wasn’t it .

while sunghoon moved slowly, jake would not move at all. making you do all the work. at some point it was alright, but you started giving out later. jake knew how to hit the best spots, you couldn’t yourself. while riding him, your thighs were burning, not being able to keep up. you collapsed on jake’s body, more tired than ever. you had yet to cum but your body could physically not do it.

“is my babygirl already tired? “ jake said in a mocking tone.

“mhm please baby, help me.” you said breathing heavily in his ear. sending that you’ve reached your limit jake finally moved his hips into you. soon grabbing your waist as he thrusted deep inside you, sending you over the edge in just a couple of minutes.

“you’re only mine, got that? don’t ever ignore me again, it’ll be worse the next time.”

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daddy-suguru · 1 year

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when you’re insecure

anonymous - asked a question!

feeling insecure so he keeps making you say you're his dream girl & he only has eyes for you, and if you stop saying it, he stops😉 + one of the jjk men?

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ⇝ how about all of them?

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 ❥ suguru, satoru, sukuna, kento & toji

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ❥ explicit, suguru has you bent over his lap, soft doms all around, praise, fingering, edging, praise, squirting, overstimulation, vibrating wand toy, Kento understanding the difference between harder and faster - a slow rough king, light bondage - kento’s tie, mirror sex, degradation and praise with sukuna since it’s sukuna, double penetration with sukuna, nipple play, Satoru has professional cameras to record you with, he makes you watch one of the videos, cockwarming

𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮

Bent over Suguru’s lap with your cheeks burning, and his thick fingers are stuck deep in your pussy. A thick ring of cream forming at base of Suguru’s knuckles of two of his thick fingers.

Slowly down the pace of his fingers, shallowly pumping them past your lips. Stopping shy of your sweet spot every time as the pressure in your gut quickly vanishes.

He tells you, “Say it or your not cumming beautiful, I want to hear you say you have the prettiest, softest pussy. She takes my cock so damn well, looking so breathtakingly pretty when her wet lips wrap around my cock.” He stops his fingers and you mumble,

“Please keep fingering with my soft pretty pussy. I want to cum all over fingers.” He slips his fingers deeper, rubbing your sweet spot.

Using his familiarity with your pussy to build up the pressure between your legs. And your cheeks burn as you hear your pussy squelch around his fingers. While he groans,

“Good girl princess. I don’t want to hear you doubting yourself again. Otherwise next times I’ll make you cum so many times you’ll be too cockdrunk to even think about being insecure.”

𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮

“Listen to how good you sound moaning my name. Why do you think I record you all the damn time. I haven’t cared to do that with anyone else. But you baby, I don’t want to forget a damn thing. Miss you so much when I have to be away with work.” Holding his phone in front of you to watch him bounce you in his cock.

He had taken this one with a different camera, giving you a different view. And the effortless way he lifted you up before letting you drop. While he thrusts up.

You wished he would bounce you on his cock like a cocksleeve. The way he is in the video. But you sit still on Satoru’s lap. With his cock is balls deep inside of you.

Whining to Satoru, “I sound weird!” And wiggling on his lap, only for him to cease your movement with his large hand. Holding you still flush against him.

The lack of friction, is frustrating. While the fullness is making your pussy drool. And the occasional throbbing twitch of his cock making you tremble.

Satoru coos, “Prettiest moans I’ve ever heard princess. Sometimes I get off on just the sound of your whines, moans and screams. There are even times I can hear pussy juices hitting the floor because you squirted so hard for me. Baby say you sounds beautiful and I’ll bounce you on my cock.”

𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚

“Can’t get enough of your crybaby ass, the only tears I want to see are because you can’t handle taking my thick cocks anymore.” His cheeks burn a dark pink, comforting is foreign to him. But maybe he could fuck it into your head how stunning you are.

Fondling your nipples, switching between roughly pinching and pulling. To soft gentle rubbing to soothe them afterwards. Before switching back to the former.

Both of Sukuna’s thick cocks deep in your pussy and ass. And his bottom hands are pinning your legs back, holding you in a mating press.

Begging, “I look sexy when I’m crying because I can’t handle your monster cocks anymore. Please move Suka nnn I need you to fuck my pretty ass and soft pussy that you can’t get enough of.” He slowly pulls his hips back, slipping each inch of himself out of you slowly. Watching the way his cock tugs your pussy and asshole.

Sukuna smirks and says, “That’s better, such a pretty little human slut for me. Such a perfect beautiful cocksleeve made to take these monster cocks. Mmm love how your pussy and ass doesn’t want to let me go.” Roughly slamming his hips against your’s. The loud smack of his balls hitting your ass meeting your ears.

𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨

“Darling your stunning in every way, look at yourself. I love the way you bite your lip, the sweet loving hunger in your pretty eyes. And the way you trembling for me. Don’t look away, I want you see how pretty your face looks when you cum.” You have both of your armed tied behind your back with his tie. Which he is holding onto, keeping you from hiding your face into the pillow. While he slowly but roughly fucks his cock into your pussy.

Your slick is dripping down your thighs. And every soft smack of his balls with against your clit is driving you wild. And when his cock head presses hits the back of your pussy, your eyes flutter shut.

Kento freezes, with your hips pressing against his. He tells you, “Let me see your pretty eyes love, look in the mirror watch while I make love to your beautiful self.” You open your eyes whispering,

“I looks so beautiful taking my handsome husband cock.” Slowly pulls out, his cockhead rubbing that sweet spot. Causing your to tremble, while your jaw drops. An he shallowly pumps his cock, pushing himself back in.

𝐭𝐨𝐣𝐢

Pulling away from your clit with a soft pop. Toji looks up at you from between your legs. While he holds the pulsing wand deep inside you, pressed firmly against your sweet spot.

Holding your hand over your mouth to muffle your sounds. While you try and hold back the intense tingling wet pressure between your legs. Only for Toji to reach up and grab your hand, lacing his fingers through yours.

You whine the line Toji had been making you recite, “I’m your pretty doll. With a cute face, a beautiful body and a soft sweet pussy.” Since you had become to pleasure drunk to think of anything else

Squeezing your hand he soft kisses your clit. While you clench around the toy. While he tells you, “I don’t want to hear ya disrespecting my sweet pussy again. That’s my job.” You gush around the toy. Quickly Toji opens his mouth and sticks his tongue deep in your pussy.

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jeansplaytoy · 10 months

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jean x thick!reader headcannons

sexual themes, smut, comfort, fluff.

jean LOVESSS your thighs, hips, waist, stomach, everything. he’s just really that typa person.

and love is literally an understatement. he adores them, worships them, this man will get on his knees for you, just to grab them.

he hates it whenever you’re like “baby, you think they’re too thick? like be for real.” because he loves them so much.

“hell nah they not too thick.” he’d say before rubbing them. “look at em. like jello.”

everywhere you go, his hands would have to be on your thighs. in the car, chilling on the couch, eating, eating, at a party, or any fancy dinner where he has to chance to sit right beside you.

he can’t resist them, asking for pics of them every time he’s out with his group or just not around you.

he loved squeezing them, just to make you jump a little and get your reaction

kissing your lips, your right thigh, then your left thigh whenever he was about to leave the house for a couple hours or minutes.

and he loves your waist.

he loves the way his scratch marks are on there every week, or couple of days if he’s really feening for you. but when isn’t he?

and he loves rubbing your belly, if you’re cuddling or something, he’ll randomly put his hand there and just start rubbing and every time you tell him to stop he’ll refuse.

he loves laying on your thighs, stomach, everything. and as much as he thinks it annoys you sometimes, he can’t help himself.

and when you sit on his lap, he loses control, but always tries to keep his cool, especially in public.

‘damn.’ he’d think to himself sometimes, staring right at it.

normally, in the comfort of your own home, he’d just pull you back to where your back was against his chest with a blunt in his left hand, slipping his right hand under your shirt and into your bra.

but in public, it was a whole different thing. he tried his best not to get hard at the sensation of you sitting directly on his lap, not even on his thigh. and when you glanced back at him with that ‘innocent’ ass look on your face, he’d give you almost a death stare before a small smile would creep on his face.

or when you’d walk in front of him and your hips moved gracefully with every step you took.

he just couldn’t get enough the chubbiness of some parts of your body. your arms, thighs, ass, cheeks, waist, and even when he’d catch a glance of your hip dips.

it was like even when you weren’t teasing him, you were teasing him. wearing his boxers, or those lace panties which you’d eventually have to get a new pair of, around the house.

and when your spaghetti strap shirt hugged just perfectly, showing all your curves and special spots. he just couldn’t keep his eyes off of you.

and what he liked best was when you tried to get all mad at him over anything he did, even if he knew he was the reason you got mad, promise he’d always handle that shit.

“ah..! fuckkk..!” your eyebrows furrowed as he rammed, just balls deep into you, as nothing but wet and rapid sounds of your skin clapping against his own filled both of your ears. he sucked in air through his teeth and shook his head. “nah, yo ass was getting all mad earlier, repeat what you was saying.” he mumbled, exhaling smoke from his nose while he stared down at the way your ass and thighs moved from the impact.

you drove him fucking crazy.

tears formed at the corners of your eyes, gripping the sheets, swearing you felt them tear from the force, or maybe that was you.

“baby… mhh.. i don’t think i can take it…” you whined and whimpered, trying to get him to at least slow down. you suddenly felt a sharp sting on your ass, making you jump and moan louder. “p..please..!” you bit your lip, as you felt him dig his nails into your hips, pulling you back with each thrust he pulled off. “you feel so good ma, damn.” he whispered, ignoring your cries and pleas.

besides, you knew what happened when you got an attitude with him.

and when you were both on cloud 10, higher than you’ve ever been, or that’s what you two always thought, he loved it.

laying his head in between your thighs while lightly pulling at the ankle bracelet you wore. his eyes fixed on the tv, watching whatever cartoon you always thought was funny as hell when you were stoned and done.

or when one of his hands rested underneath your thigh and your calf, raising your knee a little higher than the other one, which he just let you rest up by yourself, while he rubbed on it.

he kissed the inside of your thigh, giving you your daily/weekly hickeys before biting on some spots.

you rested yourself on your hands, wanting to have a better view of him as you panted a little, biting your lip and rolling your eyes to the back of your head as soon as he kissed your clit, licking and sucking while your juices filled his tongue, stringing when he pulled away a little before continuing his normal routine.

he treated your pussy like your lips, you knew that much. slipping his tongue inside and slowly moving it around before taking it out and kissing at it again.

“mm… faster.. please.” you mumbled softly while the wet sounds filled the room, like always. jean lazily looked up at you as you moved your hips softly against his mouth, sticking one of his fingers inside of you and curling it right before pulling, not all the way out, but just enough to make you twitch a little when he pushed it back in.

he continued to suck and lick, listening to the way your soft moans filled the room. you used one of your hands to run your fingers through his hair, pushing his head closer to increase the pleasure. and each time, he’d let you.

removing his finger from your already swollen pussy, moving his arms underneath your thighs to massage your waist and hips while continuing to tongue fuck you.

and with his pink, sometimes red, low eyes, lashes looking prettier than usual, he loved the sight of you, whining to get through the pleasure.

“paint my face real pretty, mama.” he mumbled against you, as you pushed to do exactly what he said, nearly suffocating him as your thighs tightened around him.

he hummed a little, pulling your legs apart as you started to quiver and shake, the white, sticky substance all over his chin and mouth. and while he overstimulated you, you couldn’t help but tighten your legs up again.

but this time he let you.

he did love your thighs, after all.

#aot headcanons #aot x reader #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschtein smut #aot jean #jean kirschtein headcanons #jean kirstein #jean smut #aot smut #aot x chubby reader #aot x black reader #jean x black reader #jeansplaytoy♡︎

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peachdues · 1 year

Note

And a fluff thought stemming from bundle of joy just some years after

All I'm cracking up at is this big scary wind hashira, terrifies the lower ranked slayers. Middle of training when they break for lunch, Y/N coming by with their now toddler daughter. Watch the slayers head spin when this lil girl is absolutely delighted to see her dad, running to hug his leg squealing

No, because this has sent me into a spiral.

Imagine Sanemi has the lower-ranked slayers nearly passing out from how brutal his training is, but they're also too scared to actually stop because they know it will just make their day a thousand times worse.

Sanemi is in the middle of laying into one of them because his form was wrongwrongwrong and how can he possibly expect to cut a demon's head off if he can't even hold a fucking sword, when they're interrupted by a shriek of laughter and joy from across the training grounds.

At first, the group of trainees see the Lunar Hashira crossing the dirt towards them, and they think, oh thank god, she's here to save us from Shinazugawa's wrath, she's going to help, thank god, thank god.

But instead she stops, and she's not looking at them, she's looking at the Wind Pillar and the Wind Pillar alone (like hello?? they're here too?? damn), and he stops the entire training session.

Suddenly, a small, white-haired, pink-cheeked miniature human peeks out from behind the Lunar Pillar's leg. She takes one look at the scarred menace who is low-key torturing this poor group of slayers, and she lets out the loudest little shriek of delight and begins toddling towards Shinazugawa as fast as her little chubby legs can carry her because she just learned to walk and now nothing can stop her.

And Shinazugawa smiles, and not in his signature sadistic manner that makes his trainees nearly wet themselves, but he has an actual genuine smile on that scarred face of his. Then, he does something even creepier -- he laughs.

He squats down and opens his arms as this little ball of pudge and snowy hair waddles to him, and he scoops her up and puts her on his shoulders while she claps her little hands together, laughing.

Sanemi then turns back to the group and for half a second, they think maybe Shinazugawa is in a good enough mood to dismiss them for the day because he can't possibly want his little angel to see him all scary and mean and angry, right?

Sanemi does decide he's done with training for the day -- but they're not. Instead, the Lunar Hashira -- his wife -- is stepping in to run them on defensive drills. Most of them haven't trained under the Lunar Hashira, so they breathe a sigh of relief, because surely, surely her training cannot be anywhere near as life-threatening as Shinazugawa's.

The Lunar Hashira looks so kind, so gentle, as she unsheathes her actual fucking weapon and begins using her breathing forms on them (because it's a mostly defensive-style of fighting, but that doesn't mean she doesn't have some very fast, very brutal offensive techniques saved for when she needs them). The slayers are forced to run, to contort their bodies into unimaginable shapes in a desperate attempt to dodge her crescent-shaped attacks. By the time the sun sets, several of them have thrown up, and a couple of them have passed out.

Meanwhile, Sanemi stands off to the sidelines, daughter still balanced on his shoulders, as she oohs and ahhs the display of lights and shapes unfolding before her. She squeals in delight every time her mama makes another pretty crescent moon and is so entranced by the dazzling show before her that she can't hear the screams of the slayers trying desperately avoid getting slashed to pieces.

And Sanemi has never been happier in his entire life.

Sanemi's proudest moment is when his daughter, who just hit speaking age, loudly says "fuck!" in her little, cute voice when she drops her piece of ohagi in the dirt outside their estate one afternoon. Too bad she also said it in front of her mother, and suddenly Sanemi's proudest moment also becomes the moment he learns what true fear is.

#sanemi shinazugawa #sanemi drabble #sanemi x reader #kny sanemi #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny x reader #kny fanfic #sanemi fic

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covetyou · 5 months

Text

baubles

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: ball fucking, ball sucking, balls, wall to wall all ball, BIV (ball in vagina), sex toys (the balldo [link to website] is real and it has haunted my dreams for 6 months - pic in this ask), there's some PIV too I guess. word count: too many and they're all balls 4.4k summary: Santa Joel fucks you with his balls. That's it.

A/N: I am NOT sorry. Not now, not ever. And, yes, I watched the instructional video on how to put it on, purely for Research Purposes. We don't talk about how long I've spent thinking about balls.

Happy Ball-idays, don't say I never got you anythin' nice.

...

Santa Joel-y, slip your ballsack right into me, oh gee.

I've been a fuckin' good girl,

Santa Joel-y, so stuff 'em up my chimney tonight.

...

It was your first Christmas in Texas and your first Christmas in a place that felt unseasonably warm for the time of year. That's what you tell yourself every night as you strip off completely before slinking into bed, at least.

Except, this night is different.

It's Christmas Eve.

And someone is in your house. You're sure of it.

A click of a button and you're on your feet, creeping to your bedroom door to listen out for the intruder. You almost didn't hear it, too preoccupied to be on the lookout for burglars on Christmas Eve.

There's a tell tale rustle, the stomp of feet. Whoever it is, they're not even trying to be quiet. You'd respect the brazenness of it all if someone hadn't broken into your damn house. You toy with calling the cops, maybe a neighbor, but you know it'll be too late by the time anyone gets here to do anything, so you make the stupid decision to head downstairs and confront the intruder alone.

Wrapping your flimsy bath robe around yourself, you grab the nearest makeshift weapon you can find (a broken umbrella you still hadn't thrown away) and click the door open, slinking out into the hallway and down the stairs.

If he hears you before you get down the stairs, he doesn't let on. But there, right in front of your Christmas tree is the unmistakable figure of a man. A big man. He's tall, and broad, and his silhouette is wrapped in something fluffy, making it look like there's a giant teddy bear standing in your living room.

You flick the light on, startling him, making him drop a heavy bag undoubtedly filled with your things onto the floor with a heavy thud.

"Oh, shit."

A single ornament rolls out of the bag and across the floor. You both stand frozen and silent, watching it move until it knocks against your bare toes. Only when it's stopped do you drag your eyes back up to look at the man who broke into your house.

Your umbrella clatters to the floor.

"What the...?"

The man before you is dressed as Santa, hat and all.

Only this man was not as old as you would expect for someone claiming to be Santa Claus. His beard is patchy, the scruff around his chin only speckled with gray. He has lines around his eyes, crinkled divots in his skin from so many years of laughter. The red coat pulled around his form is unbelted, falling open at the middle to reveal a white vest and the soft swell of his belly.

"What the fuck are you doin' in my house?" you yell.

"Shh, quit your fuckin' hollerin'."

He takes a step toward you and you back into the wall, trying to keep your distance from the very Texan man who had broken into your house dressed as Santa on Christmas Eve.

And that's when you see behind him, to the glittering lights of your Christmas tree, and the branches covered in ornaments. Ornaments that did not belong to you. You'd bought the thing on sale at the grocery store just a week ago. When you put it up and plugged it in, grateful for the existence of pre-lit trees, you settled on the fact you wouldn't decorate it this year. Even so, it was beautiful as it was, and you enjoyed the soft glow of the lights in the evenings as you wound down after work. Now, that soft glow was accompanied by the twinkling reflections of the many ornaments hanging on it.

"Did you... did you decorate my tree?"

He looks at you like you're mad, and maybe you are. Maybe you came so hard on your vibrator upstairs that you passed out, and this is all a dream. A very vivid dream where you can smell the warm oaky scent of the man in front of you and feel the heat of him as he crowds you against the wall.

"What else do you think I've been doin'?" he says, as if it should be entirely obvious that he's been here decorating your tree all along.

"I don't know, maybe stealing my shit?"

He, once again, looks at you like you're stupid and gestures to his suit, red and velvety, draped around his body. It looks good on him, and does nothing to help the thick syrupy feeling still coursing through your veins. Having a man like him break into your house felt like one of lifes great injustices, but having him break in when you were mid-jerk off was purely inhumane. Other than point to the door and tell him to get out, there was nothing you could do but gape at him and hope he didn't notice you curl your toes as he looked at you.

He takes a step closer, heavy boot falling with a thud in front of you, and shrugs. "If you don't want it, I'll take it back."

Up this close, the smell of him goes straight to your head, your body seemingly ready and rearing to go at the slightest hint of something masculine in your presence. Your tongue suddenly feels too big and clumsy so, not trusting a single word that would come out of your mouth, you shake your head. You would actually, really, very much like the decorations to stay and the man who put them there.

Texas always felt hot to you, but something about this room was now super heating. You're keenly aware of the stickiness pooling between your thighs, and even more aware of the visible sheen of sweat on your head and the warmth in your cheeks. If he looked closely, he'd even be able to see glistening on your fingers, making you look glitter coated in the twinkle of the Christmas lights. You shift, trying to mask the buzzing in your veins at his eyes as they drag down your body.

You hadn't noticed the silky tie of your robe slowly loosen as you wiggled and fidgeted. You were too warm to notice when the fabric parted, gaping over your chest and giving him a perfect view of your tits. You were too busy staring into his deep brown eyes to notice him raise his hand.

You did, however, feel the moment his finger stroked a slow trail down the swell of your breast, puckering your nipple and making a shudder run through your spine.

"You're all unwrapped, darlin'," he whispers, just as you remember to breathe again. "S'gettin' a bit warm in here, huh?"

He absentmindedly discards his hat as his finger traces down your body, flicking the light back off behind you once his hat hits the floor. You know where he, and this, is heading, and you're not keen to stop it any time soon.

When his fingers stroke across your mound, you gasp. Your vibrator had made you sensitive, but you'd never had chance to finish the job, and now here he was threatening you with a good time. He cups you, completely engulfing your pussy in his broad hand, and slides it between your legs.

By now it's no secret you're already wet, your upper thighs already sticky with it. His fingers slide through with ease, the quirk of his eyebrow visible now his hat has been thrown to the side.

"Here I was thinkin' you were on the nice list. But this little thing right here tells me you're naughty as they come, darlin'. What you been doin' to yourself all alone up there in the dark?"

You're staring at him opened mouthed as he works is thick fingers over you, dragging slick over your already sensitive clit. You'd been moments away from coming when the noise from downstairs pulled you out of it, and now here he was working you back up and quickly.

"It's my house," you stutter. "Can do what I want." And right now you want to collapse into a heap on the floor with his fingers between your legs.

"That you can. You wanna go back up there and finish yourself off?"

Logically, you know your pre-orgasm desperation is clouding your judgement, that you should take him up on his offer to leave and put a stop to this, but there's something too enticing about him. You don't want to stop.

"Or do you maybe want a hand with your... Little problem?"

"Yeah," you're nodding, eyes so heavy now you want them to snap shut, but you can't resist looking at him in the glow of your Christmas lights. Red really suits him, and you swear you can see his cheeks get rosy in the dim lighting.

"S'good. Got some little problems here myself. But, seein' as you're already halfway there, seems only fair to get me to your level before we start anythin', don't you think?"

Biting your lip, you nod, taking a step closer to him. Tentatively, you reach out a hand and caress the front of his pants. They feel velvety soft, and you have no fucking clue how he doesn't look as sweaty as you feel.

"That's right. You feel that?"

You feel something grow beneath your palm. Big, thick, and heavy. You look down in stunned silence, seeing only the odd shadows cast by the Christmas tree lights sparkling over the front of his pants.

"Get on your knees and close your eyes."

You obey, wanting very much to stay on the nice list now that you know exactly what you want for Christmas. His belt jingles as he undoes the buckle, pulling it from his waist and discarding it on top of his bag. He can't resist giving his dick a quick squeeze over the fabric of his pants at the sight of your bare chest heaving in the twinkling light, before unzipping them and letting them fall down to his ankles. The fabric is so loose he can step out of them, easily tugging his booted feet from the legs.

It doesn't go unnoticed that you spend the entire time eyes closed, listening attentively, and gently rocking your hips, discreetly humping the air in a desperate attempt to find any kind of relief.

"Tsk, got an impatient one on our hands."

The same hand he'd been stroking your pussy with wraps around his cock, slowly dragging his sticky fingers up and down his rapidly hardening length. He wishes he'd told you to strip, or left the light on so he could see you more clearly, but something about your skin under the sparkling lights and the shadows cast between your legs is making him harder more quickly than ever. When his dick twitches in his hand at your deep sigh, he finally stops staring and speaks.

"Open your eyes."

You snap them open, eager to see what he has for you, and your eyes immediately turn the size of dinner plates.

His cock gorgeous, and even in the grip of his large hand it looks big. He's long, thick with a slight upward curve and a smattering of salt and pepper hair at the base. You're fairly certain he trims it, keeping it well groomed and flush to his skin, making his cock appear even larger as it juts out infront of him.

But, despite the gloriousness of this mans cock, what you can't get over are his balls. They're heavy, and full, and getting tighter and tighter as his cock hardens under your gaze. You flick your eyes up to his face and he has a knowing smirk pulling at his lips.

"Fuck," you say as you look back down at it, at them, and let out a shaky breath.

His whole body shakes with a laugh, jingling his bells, as you take in his length. Hand never leaving his cock, his gentle strokes become firmer, and he's guiding the tip toward your face a moment later.

"What should I call you?" you ask, realizing you don't even know his name yet, just as his tip touches to your lips. Exhilarating as it was to fuck a man who had broke into your house, you still wanted to know his name, and not even to press charges - you wanted to know what to scream when you came.

"Santa works just fine."

Pulling back, you scoff, "You want me to call you Santa Claus?"

"Fuck no! Do I look like a Claus to you? S'Joel."

"Santa Joel?"

"Fuck yeah darlin', now open up."

You stick out your tongue, waiting for his cock to slide along the spit slicked muscle. He drags his tip across it, letting you lick at his head before you capture his cock in your mouth, sucking it in and flicking your tongue lightly on his frenulum. The salty sweet taste of him makes you crave more, so you draw him further into your mouth, sliding up and down his cock as he stares down at you with an open mouth.

Dragging your hands up his bare thighs, you grab the base of his cock with one, steadying him as you suck. You tickle the other across his balls, looking up at him as he pulls in a sharp breath, before grabbing them and massaging them. His balls feel entirely smooth to the touch, and you have an irresistible urge to put them in your mouth.

Dragging your lips back from his cock, you lick broadly up the length of it again and again until you're dragging your tongue across his ballsack, slowly trailing up his cock to his tip, watching him all the while. Then you kiss his balls, humming in satisfaction as you finally press your lips to the soft skin.

The sight of you on your knees, making out with his balls is sending him stupid, and all he can do is stare down at you with a look of deep concentration on his face. If he's not careful, he's going to blow his load early, coming in your hand before he even gets to fuck you.

He watches you lightly drag your teeth over his delicate ball skin. He swears he sees your eyes flicker with something deserving of the naughty list when you hear his intake of breath, but he's too preoccupied by your tongue lathing across them to take much notice. You take it in turns with them, sucking each ball into your mouth as you slowly pump his cock in your fist, before releasing and working on the other. By the time you've had enough, his cock is dripping, smearing pre-cum over your hand as you jerk him.

Licking the drippy mess off of your hand, you look up at him, savouring the taste of his cum in your mouth.

"Please tell me you want to fuck me," you say, biting down on your swollen lips. You don't know what you'll do if he says no now, you know going back upstairs to your vibrator just won't cut it, even if you now have the fantasy of kissing Santa's balls to get off to.

"You kiddin' me, darlin'? Get up here."

Relief and desperation wash through you, and you climb off your aching knees, letting your robe fall from your arms.

"Couch?" you say, keeping a firm grip on his cock as you stroke up his chest. He pulls you toward him, holding the back of your neck as he kisses you, tasting his cum and balls on your tongue. His lips are impossibly soft, just like his balls, a stark contrast to the scratch of his beard.

Moving to the couch, you bend over, wiggling your bare ass for him. He chuckles, stepping closer to you and marvelling at the lights dancing over your jiggling backside. He shucks off his own coat now, leaving him in just his vest and boots, and hones in on the peek of your pussy from between your legs.

Sliding his length up and down your slit he groans, gripping your hip in his massive hand just as he notches at your entrance.

"Well, shit, that's nice," he says, sliding his tip into you.

You're inclined to agree - it had been a long time since anyone other than yourself had fucked you, and the red hot feeling of his hard cock in you felt better than you remembered. He rocks his hips a little, drenching his cock in you bit by bit until he's fully sheathed inside your eager pussy. The solid beat of your heart throbs through your veins and straight to your core, making you clench around him as he begins to fuck you.

"You're gonna yank my dick clean off if you keep that up."

"Can't help it," you moan, "Feels so good." You let your eyes close, succumbing to the slow, steady, pleasure building in you.

Snapping his hips more firmly, he bottoms out in you over and over, pushing deep inside you with each thrust. You can feel his wet balls slap against you, rhythmically whacking into your clit, but it's not enough. You're so desperate to come you lick your fingers and reach between your legs, swiping your digits over your clit. His balls instead slap against your fingers and you can't resist trying to stroke them again.

The noises you're making are going straight to Joel's dick, and he knows he's going to blow his snowy load way before he's ready if you don't stop, so he pulls away from you. You protest as his cock slides out of you, leaving you empty and still desperate to come.

"Got a present for you, darlin'," he pants from behind you.

"The ornaments?"

"Yeah. Got some real pretty baubles for you, darlin'. You'll like 'em. I promise."

He goes to his bag, long forgotten on the floor, and bends over it. You watch his soft ass and the swing of his dick and balls as he rummages around inside the sack, pulling out two things before standing up. When he doesn't immediately turn back around, clearly playing with his own cock, you start to worry that you're not satisfying him. But then he rounds on you and you see his cock and balls glisten wetly in the twinkling Christmas lights just as he throws a bottle at you. Lube.

Catching him opening another box, you gasp and draw your hand to your chest in mock shock.

"Is that not my present to open?" you say coyly, now trickling lube over your own pussy. You don't need it, but whatever he has in mind clearly calls for it.

"Good things come to those who wait, darlin'."

"I'm still waiting for the coming part."

He shoots you a admonishing look and you raise your hands in surrender, before snaking one back down to keep rubbing at your clit. You're about to go mad if you don't come soon, your clit is so sensitive, a firm nub between your legs now, and your pussy so puffy from so much stimulation. It's a wonder you have any blood left in your brain at all.

The object in the box is revealed, and you can do nothing but gape at it as Santa Joel proudly holds it up with a hand on his hip.

It looks like a torpedo cockring hybrid, and you have no fucking clue what it is.

"Get yourself comfy, gotta strap myself in."

Laying back on your couch - for all its flaws, an armless couch certainly had its benefits - you spread your legs and watch him with curiousity. You still can't work out what it is.

"What is -"

And then he stretches the silicone underneath his balls, pushing each ball into the cage with his thumbs before letting go. Oh.

Oh. "Oh."

You sit in stunned silence. He's turned his balls into a dick or, more accurately, a dildo. With the length of it and the girth of his balls, you can only imagine what it's going to feel like.

"If you don't fuck me with that in the next two seconds I'm gonna scream."

With the contraption strapped around his balls, pulling them down and taught, crouches over you, pushing your legs back so your pussy is pointing skyward like a sloppy wet landing pad for his balls.

He dunks the tip of the dildo into your pussy. It's cold and unfamiliar, not like the velvety warmth of his dick that stands straight ahead of you, taunting you with its glistening tip. If you could fold yourself in a pretzel you would, just to suck the head of his cock back into your mouth.

He pushes down, squatting over you with bare legs, sheathing the entire dildo into you. Another push and you feel the swell of his balls as they pop past your entrance and nestle themselves inside of you.

You gasp. The feeling is wholly unfamiliar, but still you feel yourself soaking him, slicking up his balls as they sit in your pussy.

"That hurtin'?"

"No. No, it's just I- I've never had someone's balls in me before."

"A first ball fuckin' for this little pussy," he says affectionately, stroking a thumb over your lips as they wrap themselves around his balls. His cock is protruding out of you now, like you're wearing a life like strap, and you really wish you could reach to taste where his tip threatens to drip onto you. Suddenly you understand the boys back in highschool and their failed attempts to suck their own dicks.

"They feel so big inside," you moan as he begins to gently shift above you. He pops out of you once, and pushes back in, and you throw your head back onto the soft sofa woth a moan. You have never felt anything like this. "Joel, please don't stop. Please keep fucking me with your balls."

"You got it darlin'," his voice is soft, in awe of you as you take his balls and the toy deep inside you. You feel incredible, and the wet slip of your walls on his ball skin shoots straight down his dick, and for a moment he thinks he's accidentally came too early. A quick look from your face, contorting with the fullness in your pussy, down to where his dick sticks outward, tells him otherwise. Thank fuck. He knows he has to get you off quickly. You were soaking his dick not too long ago, and before that his fingers, and before that your own sheets upstairs. You were ready, and he was nothing if not a giving man.

His thumb finds your clit, slippery from lube and your own slick, and he circles it, applying a firm pressure as he moves.

"Oh my god, that's it," you plead, opening your eyes to look at where he plays with you, balls still sunk deep.

You spur him on, rocking your hips as much as you can with your legs back, fucking yourself on his balls as he strokes your clit. You feel your pussy tense, little spasms warning you of what's to come, and you hold on tight to your own legs.

"That's it darlin'. Come on my balls. Squeeze 'em."

"F-fuuuck."

The swipe of his thumb sends you over, and you come hard on his balls with your head back and eyes squeezed shut. Your legs shake and you know he can feel how you twitch and spasm around his balls, drenching them as he dunks them in you, shallowly thrusting them as you tighten and grip him hard.

He's holding your legs back for you, looking you in the eye as he bends forward over your limp body when you open your eyes. The feral look on his face tells you he hasn't come yet, and you're desperate to see when he does.

"You been so nice I'm gonna give you an extra present. You ready?"

"Please Santa Joel, I've been so good this year," you say with a soft smirk.

He soon wipes the smirk off your face when he fucks down into you harder, practically bouncing off your ass as he slots his swollen balls into your pussy. They feel so big and heavy inside you, and even strapped down and pulled tight by the toy, you feel his balls tighten and try to draw up closer to his cock as he gets closer to coming.

"Come on me. Please. Come on me," you beg, staring between his cock and his face. Pre-cum had been steadily dripping onto you, splattering your belly, but you were hungry for more.

His fingers grip around his flushed head, stroking easily over the slicked surface. Pushing his balls deep, he bounces gently, loving the feel of his sensitive ball skin inside of your soaked hole.

"Here it comes, darlin'. Oh shit."

"Yeah, come on me. Come all over me Joel."

"Shit. Fuck."

You watch his slit as it seems to wink at you before ropes of come spurt out of the tip, shooting across your chest and neck, spattering your face and even your hair with his cum.

"Yes, yes, thank you," your eyes have snapped shut. You can feel the warm trickle of cum by your eyebrow, and you're not keen to feel the sting of semen in your eye.

For a little while he looks at you, fucked out by his balls and laying boneless on your couch. With a soft pop he pulls out of you, leaving you feeling empty without his balls in you. Your legs flop down and you listen to his deep breaths.

"Nothin' like a ballgasm," he pants.

Nothing like being ballfucked, you think, but the words are heavy in your mouth and you do nothing but moan, mumbling some nonsense.

"Mm... balls. They... mm. Yeah. Good."

"Too fucked out, huh?" he laughs, before swiping the cum from near your eye. "Make a Christmas wish," and he slips the finger into your waiting mouth.

He slides his finger from your mouth and you murmur a thank you as you make your wish, sighing and letting yourself relax completely for a moment.

When you tentatively open your eyes, wary of any errant drops of cum, he's gone, disappeared as soon as he'd arrived. You didn't hear the door, the window, anything. You certainly didn't hear him get dressed.

Feeling stupid, and like maybe it was all just a dream, you rush to the window. You don't expect to see anything, the man feeling too magical to have been real. But, there he is, walking down the street bare assed, his pants slung over his shoulder and his balls still swinging strapped into the toy.

No, you don't think you'll be forgetting your first Christmas in Texas any time soon at all.

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#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #pedro pascal characters #coveted fics #big bawl jawl #never forget the balls #fic: dress up joel

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mushroommanstan · 1 year

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Edging creepy Tenko until he’s a whining drooling mess with a swollen leaky cock Ɛ>

“A-aaah please-se-se”

Tenko didn’t know how much more of this he could take. It’s true, he’s always loved being touched by you, your velvety hands never failing to make him feel like he’s in heaven. But like Lucifer falling from said heaven, the pleasure had quickly turned into hell for him. Fuck, he’s sorry, he’s sorry!

“Mmhmphhh, I’m-I’m sorry! I’m sorry-hyyy”

You giggled, watching his desperately hard cock throbbed painfully, the whole shaft painted red due to you denying his orgasm again and again. You can practically see his balls throbbing as they beg to be emptied.

But you didn’t listen. Instead you waited until he was ever so close before pulling your hand away, letting his cock slap back against his stomach as he wailed out. You waited for him to cool down before wrapping your hand around his cock and jerking him, repeating the cycle.

“Oh? And what are you sorry for baby? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Despite this, he continued blabbering apologies, the lack of relief seemingly having short circuited his brain and only letting him say those words.

“I’m sorry! I-Iaaah, I’m s-sorry!”

You smirked.

“Baby I’m not doing this as a punishment. Not to my good, sweet boy~” his dick twitched at that making him moan in painful pleasure.

He then surprised you, switching it up and adding a new phrase to his currently limited vocabulary.

“T-then wh-aaah please, then w-why-then-then-why-“ he can feel tears gathering in his eyes, from what he doesn’t know. Frustration, yearning, insecurity, all of those feelings melting down and forming melancholy.

He refused to let those tears fall. He’s a man, he’s a manly man. And manly men don’t cry.

You grabbed him forcefully by his chin, making sure he was looking at your erotically devious face. “Because I want to see you cry for me.”

Maybe some men cry.

He wailed out, a mess of ‘please’s and ‘sorry’s tumbling out as he yet again reached his high, scared you would deny him. He felt his warm tears coat his cheeks as he broke down, begging you to let him finish in the most desperate, lewd moaning.

Satisfied, this time your hand didn’t stop, and you could practically see the relief on his face when the first rope of cum shot out of his dick. He threw his head back, legs quaking and back arched as he opened his mouth in a silent scream. Ropes and ropes of pent up cum burst out of him, coating him, you, and the sheets in his jizz.

You smiled, continuing to pump him until he was completely finished, his cock immediately turning back to the pink, soft state you knew and loved.

Wiping your brow (with your other hand), you finally look back up at him after admiring his fountain.

“Feel better baby?”

He doesn’t respond. He doesn’t do anything really, hanging limply in his leather restraints. You snapped your finger in his face but got no response, pulling his head up only to find his eyes rolled back into his head, passed out.

You quickly checked his breathing, before patting his shoulder affectionately after making sure he was ok.

You then sighed, leaving him to get a towel to clean him up with.

Damn it, he passed out again.

#shigaraki tenko #my hero academia #shigaraki fanfiction #my hero academia shigaraki #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x y/n #boku no hero academia tomura #shigaraki fluff #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki smut #tenko shimura #tenko smut #shimura tenko #shimura tenko smut

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pantherxrogers · 6 days

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Pookie since you’ve made a sugar daddy Yunho version, might as well do a Seonghwa. Plss pookie 😩😩 I’m on my knees. 💵💵💳💳I’m begging youu

blurb: sugar daddy!Seonghwa x fem!reader

🖤 pairing: seonghwa x fem!reader

🖤 warnings: slight angsty, reader is kinda bratty, mostly fluffy/cute, a little suggestive

🖤 summary: even though she failed her driver's license exam, Seonghwa can't help but spoil his wife 🤭

🖤 a/n: POOKIE!!!! I’m so sorry that this took so long 😭 it’s been a busy week for me. I hope you love it! Thanks for your request! 😘

Seonghwa gives husband material, so he's a sugar husband lmao. Enjoy!! ☺️

my masterlist

The soft chime of the alarm system makes your cheeks burn with embarrassment. You nestle further into the duvet, ashamed to face Seonghwa.

But, of course, your husband already knows. His heart aches when he sees you, a ball under the covers, used tissues littered across the silk sheets.

"Hi jagi, you okay?" He hums, sitting next to your swaddled form.

"I am an idiot." It comes out muffled, your face buried in the bedding. The rational part of you knows he'd never be upset with you, but you can't help feeling ashamed.

"You're the smartest person I know," he coos, slowly pulling the covers away from your face. His heart shatters when he takes in your features.

Your eyelids are slightly puffy, obviously caused by tears. Your lively curls are smushed down, a blatant sign that you've been in here for hours, stewing in your despair.

"I'm an adult who failed a driver's license exam," you cry out, feeling the tears well up again.

"You're my sweetheart who failed a very difficult driving exam in a foreign country," he tries to reason with you, wanting to take away your sadness.

“I’m never going to be able to drive anywhere,” you sob, nestling further into Seonghwa’s warmth. He pulls you into his lap, his suit be damned.

He almost chuckles to himself, knowing that you won’t be driving anywhere regardless. Your personal driver takes you wherever you please, but he knows how important this is to you. So, it’s important to him too.

The only sound in the bedroom are your soft cries and sniffles. Seonghwa’s hands draw slow circles on your back, doing his best to comfort you. Of course it’s working.

He’s always had a naturally calming energy. It’s what drew you to him in the first place. Eventually, your breaths level out, chest rising and falling in time with his firm one.

“I've got an idea,” he murmurs, standing up while cradling you in his arms.

“Hwa, I don't feel like shopping right now,” you cry out, hiding your face in his neck. Inhaling his cologne is almost like a grounding exercise. The woody, clean scent brings you comfort.

“I know, baby. I know.” He’s walking you down the hallway now, towards the front door of your estate.

"Then, where are you going?" you mumble, not in the mood to fully articulate anything. Normally, shopping would be a quick fix, but not even a new pair of shoes can help you now.

He ignores your question, still making the long journey towards the front door. Finally, arriving at the bottom of the marble staircase, his heart leaps in anticipation of the surprise. He's sure this will be able to pull you out of your funk.

“Fine, ignore me then,” you grumble, but sink further into his hold. It’s nice to have a change of scenery, even if he is just walking you through your home.

“You smell good, jagi,” he hums, making a show of sniffing your neck, inciting your giggles. “Maybe I should just take you back to the bedroom,” he grunts.

“Well, now I want to know what you were planning!” You huff, knowing he’s joking but also wanting to see this surprise. He chuckles in response, finally reaching the front door handle.

Once outside, Seonghwa gently places you on your feet, your Versace slippers protecting you from the hot stone. “I can’t see,” you whine out, already feeling agitated from the heat.

Seonghwa instinctively raises his hand above your brow, shielding you from the sunlight. The simple gesture warms your heart, prompting you to place a kiss on his shoulder.

It takes a while for your eyes to adjust to the bright day light, but Seonghwa’s makeshift shade speeds up to process.

He falters when you let out a high pitched shriek, chasing after your smaller form running towards the new car in your driveway.

“You got me a PORSCHE 911?!” You exclaim, eyes locked on the smooth, red paint. It’s the car of your dreams. Sporty, sexy, sleek and perfect.

“Anything for you, jagi,” he hums, pleased by your reaction.

“Hwa, it’s beautiful!” Your voice is still louder than normal, but you can’t help it.

The bad mood from the failed test is a distant memory. Your mind conjures up images of driving around in the car, curls blowing in the wind while Seonghwa’s hand rests on your thigh.

Warm, strong arms embrace you from behind, Seonghwa nestling into your neck to place a soft kiss.

"I'm glad you like it, beautiful," he murmurs, inhaling your scent. His nose traces along your neck, the light sensation causing goosebumps to arise on your skin.

"I love it," you breathe out, overwhelmed by the feel of him. The way his lean body shields you from the sun, wrapping you in his love makes your heart beat faster. The excitement from the new car is still there, but your mind clings to your love for your husband.

"Then, let's take it for a spin," he hums, reaching into his pocket for the keys. The reminder of your failure almost dampens your mood, before Seonghwa leads you over to the driver's seat. "No pouting, jagi."

"But-"

"Get in, please," he commands, opening the door for you. "I'll make sure you pass that test."

He closes the door softly, walking around to take his place in the passenger seat. When you start up the car, you feel a warm hand on your thigh, making you smile to yourself.

Maybe you won't be sailing down the streets with the top down today, but you're certain your husband is going to help you accomplish that soon.

#𓆩 ♡ 𓆪 ⊹ ˚˖⋆｡ ra ra fics #seonghwa x reader #park seonghwa #seonghwa #seonghwa ateez #seonghwa x you #seonghwa x y/n #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #ateez fic

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urfavoritewriter · 7 months

Text

Hefty Weight

Content: M/M Vore, Cock Vore, Kneading, Open Ended

Jake spread his legs wide, a display of brazen confidence. It was impossible to miss his sizeable cock, glistening with moisture. But it was the state of his balls that was truly astonishing. Unlike the rest of his body, which was smooth and well-defined, his balls were distended and shifting oddly—like there was someone squirming inside.

Jake reached down, fingers brushing over the wet tip of his cock before coming to rest on the strange, writhing mass that were his balls. "Man," he chuckled, his fingers kneading the stretched skin, "you really added some heft down here. I've gotta say, it feels pretty damn good."

The trapped man inside could feel every prod, every squeeze, and though his position was tight and overwhelming, Jake's voice reached him clearly, teasing and dripping with amusement. "You in there," Jake murmured, a sly grin on his face, "you feel fantastic. You're making every bit of me pulse and throb. Honestly, who'd have thought you'd make such an enticing addition?"

Jake could feel the frantic pushes and prods from within his balls, the futile struggles of the consumed man. It sent tingles up his spine. Leaning back, he let out a deep, satisfied sigh, the squirming sensations only adding to the intense pleasure. "You keep moving around like that, and you're just going to make me even harder. And who knows? Maybe you'll end up having some company down there." With that, he chuckled darkly, enjoying every second of his newfound power and the incredible sensation of having a full-grown man trapped within his balls.

Jake arched his back slightly, tilting his head back in pleasure, strands of his blonde hair falling away from his face. The sensation from his balls, with every movement and squirm of the man inside, was overwhelming. Soft, almost pitiful whimpers escaped Jake's lips, a stark contrast to the dominant tone he had used earlier.

As his pleasure grew, Jake unconsciously lifted one leg, resting his foot gently against his distended balls. The balls themselves looked outlandish - stretched and swollen, they no longer resembled the usual compact, symmetrical form. Instead, they took on an irregular shape, hinting at the contours of a full-grown man curled up within. There were discernible depressions and bulges, like a vague outline; the bend of a knee, the push of an elbow, the curve of a spine. The skin was taut, stretched to accommodate the added mass but glistening with a thin layer of sweat.

Jake's foot pressed in, kneading the soft, fleshy pouch. With each gentle push of his toes, the trapped man was squeezed tighter against the enclosing walls, forced to adjust and re-adjust his position. The contours became even more pronounced, with the trapped man's form shifting and morphing with every press.

Jake's heel dug in deeper, causing a more pronounced shift inside. The sensation caused him to gasp. The combination of the foot's pressure and the trapped man's frantic responses was pushing him towards a precipice of ecstasy. Every knead, every squeeze was mirrored by a heightened pulse in his cock, which throbbed in tandem with the activities below.

Amidst the pleasure, Jake could feel the sharp, more distinct prods from inside – desperate pushes against his foot and the walls of the balls. With his senses heightened, he reveled in the detailed texture and feel of having someone so intimately trapped, squeezed between the confines of his balls and the kneading pressure of his foot.

#male pred #male vore #male prey #m/m #gay vore #Cock Vore #open ended

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toxicanonymity · 7 months

Note

First of all: I love your fics - every one of them - but especially Raider!Joel.

I have a question or idea: how would Joel react if he saw Sweet Pea doing yoga... She could have found an old book with yoga exercises somewhere and tried it out - be it out of curiosity or boredom... I think he would be quite surprised - and would find such poses "stimulating"... Just a little fantasy on the side... ;-)

yoga drabble

1.3k, raider Joel x f!reader

raider master list, latest: ✨hunger 👅

ty ily 🖤 i can see this happening SUMMARY: just a little PWP - a reprieve from action/violence but kind of emotional. WARNINGS: I8+ Joel POV, Unsafe P in V, he poses you, ass slapping, creampie, brief light anal play/scare (reader flinches), joel's guilt, dark fluff, praise. reader can do some version of downward facing dog and child's pose. no y/n.

You're in the living room--that room Joel never goes in with the bookshelf and busted tv. Joel can only see your bare feet and ankles from the kitchen. You’re on the balls of your feet. He’s intrigued. He approaches and stops in the doorframe, quietly leaning against it and crossing his arms. Your hands and toes are planted on the blue, threadbare carpet, and your ass is in the air, exposing your panties under your dress. He lets out a little “Mm,” so quiet you must not hear it.

Damn, it really does something to him, seeing you at a new angle--one he didn't even put you in. He watches the pose for as long as you hold it, getting more and more turned on. He imagines himself on the floor, lying face up underneath you, reaching up and taking an asscheek in each hand, pulling you down on his face, licking and gnawing at you through your panties like he could eat them right off you.

You walk your hands back on the floor, creating an even steeper angle, and your dress falls down to your arms. You grumble a rare curse, and he inhales sharply. You look toward the door. Even upside down he sees your eyes go wide when you look at him. You smile shyly as you let yourself down onto your knees, fix the dress, and turn toward him.

“Don’t stop,” Joel murmurs with his eyes fixed on you like an animal. He palms himself over his pants, fully hard. He’s gonna watch you for as long as he can stand it.

"not really doing anything," you claim and he cocks an eyebrow at you, looking at the yoga book on the floor next to you. "just stretching,” you add.

“Mm,” his head tilts back. “look good doin’ it,” he murmurs. You glance around, wet your lips and look down at the carpet then back up at him. He gives a simple nod that says for the love of God, keep going. You stretch out your arms in front of you on the floor as you fold the rest of yourself into a ball. He admires your arms and the cute way you spread your fingers out when you try to reach further.

He steps into the room, and you lift your head. “I can help you do it,” you offer.

“Maybe later." He runs his palm over the bulge in his pants. He gets down on his knees beside you, facing your hips. He slides his hand up the back of your thigh, under your dress, and palms an ass cheek. “Mmmm,” he sighs. His hand nudges you up off your heels a little bit and you let your weight onto your arms as you move your upper body forward. Close to doggy style but down on your forearms. He throws the dress up over your hips, out of his way, and gets behind you, straddling your ankles so he can see it all. He holds your hips and nudges your position so he can look straight at your crotch, and the pretty little hairs that poke out of the panties, and the white and floral fabric where where a tiny damp spot is forming.

“God damn,” he whispers. He scoots forward and presses the hardness in his pants against you, takes a deep breath, then backs up enough to urgently take his cock out. He spits on his hand and pumps it just a little, returning his free hand to your ass. He nudges between your legs and you spread your knees a little for him. You're such a good girl, letting him pose you how he wants.

He strokes you through the fabric and you moan softly and tilt your hips.

He slips a finger into the crotch of your panties and growls at how wet you are. His cock bobs heavily as he uses both hands to take down your panties. He runs his middle finger through your folds then slips the thick digit inside, and you whimper. He watches your glistening hole as he swirls his thick finger inside it, gathering moisture. He wants his cock inside you more than anything right now, but he can't resist your smell. He craves it. He closes his eyes and allows himself a little lick that makes his cock twitch. He'll get more later, he tells himself. He can go down on you anywhere, but he rarely gets to see you like this. It's so sexy that you put yourself on the floor with no intention to seduce him, and here he is, bending you st his will. And there you are, on your arms and knees with this hard cock behind you.

He gathers more with his finger, wipes it on his cock, mixing it with his precum before notching it at your entrance.

He pushes into you, just slow enough to watch your pretty little cunt swallow his length. You gasp and his cock twitches as he bottoms out. All the way inside you, he has one hand on your hip. With the other, he experimentally smacks your ass and you moan. He does it again a little harder and your walls squeeze him. “Yeahhh,” he sighs as he begins to withdraw his length. He holds onto your hips with both hands and pulls you back hard as he pushes into you, then abruptly starts railing you, jackhammer speed.

“Ohhh,” your moan is broken by his quick rhythm.

He fucks you like that for a minute, grunting and sighing. “look so goddamn good like this,” he pants, glancing at the yoga book beside you. “Feel so damn good.” He smacks your ass again as he pistons in and out of you. He watches the ripple of the jiggle when he smacks it again.

“Ohhh, baby,” he groans. You whimper and twitch around him like you’re close. He slows down and watches the way your body grips his cock, trying to pull him back in.

“Joel,” you whine. “don’t stop.”

“oh sweet pea,” he sighs and watches you suck him in again. “how bad ya want it?”

"Bad," you whimper. "Please." He slaps your ass again, then speeds up. You whimper and moan, "yeah, like that--ohhh." You clench around him. He pulls you back on him so your ass is flush against his hips while you cum.

“Good girl," he sighs. He retreats half way then groans as he fully sheaths himself in your pulsing cunt again. His balls tighten and he feels a twinge. He leans forward to reach under you and feel your breast, his other hand braced on your ass.

As soon as you clench on him again, he erupts with a shudder, returning both hands to your hips, holding you tightly against him as he finishes his release, and you finish yours. He curves his body over yours and his beard scratches your bare shoulder. "Good girl," he mumbles again into your shoulder and you meet his eyes with a little smile. He withdraws his cock and some cum dribbles down. He pushes it back in with his fingers.

His finger trails up to your asshole and you flinch. Shame rises to his face remembering the day you escaped. "I know, sweet pea," he coos, gently prodding but not entering your hole. "Ain't gonna. . ." Ain't gonna stuff all your holes like it's a goddamn emergency, like it's gonna fix everything. "pretty hole, though" he mumbles as he abandons it. He pulls up your panties for you, trying not to think about that day, reassuring himself it's not gonna happen again--any of it.

"You're a real good girl," he says quietly, mostly to himself.

He lets your dress back down. He tucks his cock away, and lies on his side facing you, elbow on the floor, head resting on his hand, silently admiring you.

He wonders how you feel. He wonders if you need anything, but he doesn't ask. "K," he whispers. He pushes himself up so he's sitting. You push yourself up into another pose on all fours and he gives a low whistle, then stands up with a groan to leave you alone.

----

Thank you so much for reading 🖤🖤🖤

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller drabble #joel miller imagine #joel miller smut #toxicanonymity ☠️#raider!ask #raider!joel #raider!joel miller

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50cal-fullauto-astarion · 7 months

Text

horny, sulky, kinda mean, kinda roughhousing könig thought bc it's my birthday, it's 2:50am, i have been horny like a fuckin werewolf for like a week now. f!reader ig for talk about pussy.

So our man König doesn’t keep normal hours—not that you do, but dude is two days back from KorTac and pretty much strung out on the “fun” amphetamines KorTac req officers pass out like candy if you even wave smth that looks like a form at them. So kind of out of the worst of it, exhausted, but wired and feeling kind of shitty and toothy and wound up.

He wants to fuck. Easiest way to diffuse, decompress, and he’s hard as shit by the time he lumbers his way into bed with you—over you—all around you. You were reading off your kindle, not anymore. He plucks that shit right out of your hand and puts it behind him, tangling those long, heavy limbs around you like a boa constrictor.

“Was wondering when this was going to happen,” you say, hissing when he’s none to kind in nipping the skin of your neck, wrapping his arms around your torso, pushing your breasts up under your t-shirt. “Shit, you’re moody,” it’s half a laugh, and a grapple at not immediately just folding and giving into him. You like to bite, too.

“Give me your mouth,” he grunts, nose pushed into the spot behind your ear. He’s pushing down your underwear, singlemindedly stripping you down. His words make your skin humid, “Gonna play with your pussy, want you fucking wet for me.”

You give that little bit, turning your head over your shoulder, smirking into a kiss that drives deliriously deep as soon as contact is made. König isn’t a prim kisser, but a primal one. It’s not a clean act; sloppy, yes, and somehow tinged with something kin to restrained violence. Challenge? Dick swinging? Maybe something more biblical in nature—gluttony, or greed.

He’s a fearsome thing, and he may only be beautiful to you. A needful thing, too, twisting nest of starved serpents—6 feet 10 inches and pushing-300-lbs of fucking muscle, battering-ram-body housing more than thirty years of neglect-crushed memory out for retribution.

But you never were a target. He didn’t have a choice in that matter. You both know good and goddamned well that you picked him. Everything he gets away with is at your allowance, and good fucking Christ, he loves you for it.

His cock throbs against your bare ass through his boxers as his arm wraps around you, craning his hand to pump two big fingers into your sopping cunt, angling his wrist so he can press and rub your clit with his thumb.

Man’s got his perversions, and he’s the most physical person you’ve ever met in your life. He’s had a fraction of the sex he’s fantasized about, but you’ve covered hectares of that ground since you’ve gotten together. He’s a quick study, and his mind’s a nightmare of steel trap memory. He never forgets what you like.

Two fingers turn to three, and he almost pushes it to four—assured torture, too much stretch too fast—before you snap a hand around his wrist and buck hard back against him, seething his name in warning. “Don’t fucking dare.”

“Ja. Ja, Schatzi,” he mumbles, breathing hard and too collected. You’re both sweating already, and the bed feels too damn warm, but neither of you shift. The spooning position is perfect as-is, only needs acted upon. In the mean time, he draws his slicked fingers up, leaving them in the air before your mouth in question. He groans and shudders harshly when you take the digits into your mouth, almost laughing at the ever-fresh amusement of your own taste. Salt and cold coins, your own metallic tang a complement to the one on his skin. His voice shakes as he warns, “Time, now. It’s time, bitte, aw, fuck.”

Just like that, he sinks right into you, to the base, balls pressed tight against your lips due to your body’s contortioning to meld against his form. An ungodly moan bellows out of his throat, rattling from his chest into yours, arms tightening around you. You meet the fuck-weird noises, turning your head to keen into your pillows and pressing back against him. Your hand anchors behind you on his hip, as if pinning him in place, affixing your bodies together.

You both hang in a moment of suspension, hearts pounding, minds blank, stomachs rising as if careening over a hill with momentum not sparing you a moments reprieve.

When that finally snaps, you have to force him to focus, to fuck, and he’s slow about it, grinding into you as your cunt sucks him deeper.

That huge hand you know so well drops between your legs, right back to toying with you. Oh it doesn’t take long to get you off, bent in half on your side, holding onto him and gasping as you’re hit with wave after wave of pleasure.

He’s not subtle to signal when it’s his turn. He pulls you back up and clamps his teeth into your shoulder, biting down hard through the fabric of your shirt, fucking you rough, now, and unheeding, like an animal in heat. When he finally finishes, spasming and jolting all over now that his balls have been emptied into you, he leaves his heavy arm over your waist, keeping you close. “Good shit,” he mumbles, throat sticking to itself it’s so dry as he pants, parched, “we split a smoke?”

You’re not much better, even though you’ve bravado to fucking spare. “I smoke. You go the hell to sleep now,” you try to sound stern and dismissive, but there’s a laugh in your tone some place. And fondness, undeniably. You feel his grin against your neck, his body purring mhm in question. “Feel better?” you ask, at length, stroking the hair on his forearms.

“Yes,” he says after a moment, weak and sweet with relief, “can sleep now.” A pause, you can hear him thinking. “Won’t, though. Because you were an asshole and had to bring it up first.” His laugh wheezes, low and susurring.

#konig #könig #call of duty #cod mw2 #mw2 #konig mw2 #konig call of duty #konig x reader #teehee and as usual it's just my oc dressed up as a reader yall know the drill by now

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joels6string · 2 years

Text

Whatever Helps You Sleep

Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: It's a restless night for you and the nomad you've been tied to in search of a new place to call home.

Rating: E

Word Count: 2.8k

Content: unprotected p in v sex, fingering, creampie in a post-apocalyptic world like morons, so much desperation, Joel Miller being a grumpy but standup guy

Everything hurt. All the fucking time.

Every joint throbbed, the balls and socket grinding and scraping, each taut fiber threading beneath your skin begging for any release of the eternal tension that had settled in over two decades ago, the cold you’d still not gotten used to amplifying the ache as you laid on the rickety old mattress on the floor. The springs jutting into your back certainly didn’t help, nor did the sounds in the distance too far away to identify. The knots in your stomach mimicked the ones that had settled into each muscle, your teeth chattering against the chill of the fall night.

“Why you twitchin’ like that?” Joel.

The man you now traveled with had found you holed up alone in a building, your fingers trembling on a rifle that looked too big in your hands and eyes wide enough to display the fear that had consumed your every waking minute clear as day. The loss of your group at the hand of bandits had left you alone and unfit to travel the infected-swarmed lands around you. You’d accepted your fate to starve to death or put a bullet in your own brain should you get a bite. While you hadn’t been the weakest link on your team, you couldn’t go it solo. But Joel and his 15-year-old girl, Ellie had come bursting through in search of supplies and while he’d made you beg for your life with the cold metal of his revolver pressed to your temple, he let you keep it, offering safe passage through to the next habitable town.

That was months ago.

“Sorry,” you mumbled at his complaint, you hadn’t even realized you’d been doing it.

“What hurts?” he asked, that gravelly voice heavy with exhaustion, or maybe exasperation.

“I’m fine.”

“Then stop movin' so damn much.”

Easier said than done. That rhythmic movement was the only thing easing the pain and keeping you even slightly warm, your subconscious searching for relief here in a rare quiet moment. An old bullet wound in your hip always flared up when the temperature got too low, paired with years of unrest and panic, comfort was nothing but a forgotten memory.

“You’re makin’ the floor seem like a better option,” he grunted again, guilt joining the churning turmoil in your gut.

“I’m sorry.”

“You cold?”

Yes. Yes, you were fucking cold. It had to be no more than 40 degrees and all you had was a pair of jeans worn thin as the tissue paper that had gone extinct far too soon and a flannel that barely reached your wrists. You were freezing.

“I said I’m fine,” you snapped back, thankful Joel had given Ellie the bedroom to sleep in, she needed the rest away from the bickering.

“I know what you said,” he retorted, “but you ain’t good at lying.”

He had you there. Especially when your dishonesty manifested in a hunt for solace from perpetual agony.

“Is it your hip?” He knew. He’d pulled the bullet out and cauterized it not even two months into your time with them. Your piercing wails as the searing hot metal had seared at your flesh still haunted your nightmares, the smell burned into your nose, and Joel’s apologetic fretting at the time was the most unguarded you’d ever seen him. For a moment he made you think he actually cared.

“Yeah,” you muttered, arguing was fruitless.

“Undo your jeans.” What did he say? “Get some heat and pressure on it.”

In the search for any form of reprieve, you did as he asked. He’d gotten up, you could hear water sloshing and the click of the propane heating plate you’d used to warm your dinner, his heavy boots thudding above your head before his weight dipped the mattress again.

“May I?” His tone was gentle and quiet—wary—and you nodded.

Joel was an attractive man, and not just by today’s standards but by general ones. Tall, broad, and sun-goldened skin, his hair and beard graying faster than they should beneath the weight he carried. Despite his hulking frame and aloof demeanor, there was a grace to him; you hated admitting to yourself that should he ever ask, you’d be more than willing to offer yourself up. You’d done well to repress the urges you first felt walking behind him and watching his wide shoulders sway and his competence around weapons and foraging alike, but every so often they crept back, usually on nights like this where you begged for a sliver of respite.

A warm, wet cloth pressed against the hideous scar marring the side of your hip, a loud sigh whooshing from your lips. It did feel nice. The heat washed down to your numb toes, his large palm holding pressure down that did alleviate enough of the misery that owned you to let you settle, your knees no longer rubbing together in search of comfort.

“You’re freezing,” he noted, and you bit back the retort on your tongue teasing him for pointing out the obvious, “I gave Ellie the blanket, all I got is a coat.”

“It’s fine,” you lied again, the heel of his palm pressing down and drawing a relieved cry from your parted lips as your cheeks heated in embarrassment.

He did it again, massaging out the rigidity holding you hostage, the muscle loosening beneath his weight, trigger points releasing as he pressed them against the bones of your pelvis. When the rag had cooled, you expected him to roll over and try to sleep again, but a large hand swallowed you whole as he continued, now skin on skin, the sensation sending a forbidden surge between your thighs. This time, your teeth sunk into your lower lip in lieu of allowing the traitorous whines from breaking free. He’d gotten closer at some point, you could feel the heat radiating off of his body, your resolve holding strong enough to resist closing the remaining distance between you.

“Why didn’t you leave me with that group a few months back?” you finally asked, the question had been burning in your mind since he’d refused to let you stay with a small civilization you’d found. It had been your original agreement after all.

“Didn’t trust ‘em,” he answered quietly, his fingers continuing to knead into your flesh, “I have enough trouble sleepin’.”

That was as heartfelt as Joel Miller was going to get tonight.

Callouses met scar tissue as you melted into the lumps in the surface molding around you now, his trigger finger finding a new skill as he soothed you to enough comfort to have your eyelids fluttering closed. The cold still nipped at your toes and nose, your body trembling as a result despite the searing hot palm on your skin. But at least the pain had receded enough.

“Scootch on back,” he murmured, tugging on you lightly in what resembled more of an offer than an instruction, but it was one you couldn’t refuse.

Within seconds you were no longer yearning for the scratchy wool blanket Joel kept folded in his pack, his chest firm against your back, knees locked behind yours, and a heavy hand on your lower stomach the only source of warmth you needed. You sought more, closing what little distance remained between you as he shifted to allow you the space to do so, your smaller frame fitting easily in the stretch of his chest.

“Now will you stop fidgetin’?” The husky tone he spoke with was softer than the first, less perturbed, his fingers still brushing through the open waistband of your jeans.

It was mortifying but practically instinctual the way you pressed your backside against him, hoping his fingers would slip lower, breach the fraying waistband of the panties you’d cycled through for too many years. He stiffened slightly as you repeated the motion, desperate as lust took control, you could feel it in the way his bicep flexed on your arm and his palm pressed slightly tighter. The proximity allowed you to vibrate with the repressed groan he kept trapped in his chest, your brain too fogged from the scent of dirt and gunpowder clinging to his skin and the way his beard caught on your hair as he shifted, pressing his growing bulge against you lightly.

“Joel…” It fell pathetically from your lips, whining and dazed as your stomach tensed at his offer to give what you’d so ardently desired.

He clicked his tongue. “Why d’you gotta say it like that?”

“Please.”

Whatever control he’d been gripping like the barrel of his shotgun fell away, his hand leaving your abdomen to sting in the stark temperature change and pinch your chin, turning your face towards his own. You could barely see him in the dark, but the vulnerability swimming in his eyes glowed in the faint moonlight seeping in from the window. Did you take this plunge? There was no going back. Not for you. When you parted ways—and you knew you would—what happened then? Would you get over him? This man that saved your life more times than you could count with your fingers and toes, fed you before himself, and fought the battles you couldn’t. In a world as broken as this, Joel Miller stood alone.

His kiss was timid, testing the limits and giving you enough time to change your mind here and now before it escalated. Always the gentleman. But when you pulled his bottom lip between your own deepening what he’d begun, it took seconds for his tongue to dart into your waiting mouth and unleash a dam of pent-up attraction and need.

The fervor you accepted his affections with only fueled the embering fire, his growl of appreciation echoing in your mouth as your fingers thread into his hair to pull him closer, the grayed locks softer than you expected. You didn’t know what to expect from him, was he generous or selfish? Greedy or giving? The question was answered as his weathered fingers slowly slid down your torso, palming roughly at your breasts as he kissed you still before slipping them beneath the final barrier and cupped at your mound, his middle slowly dragging through your slit.

“Jesus Christ,” he marveled at the slick that had accumulated, your lips brushing through the whiskers on his jaw as you spread your thighs wider to grant him access.

No time was wasted, too much had already and that was being made very clear by the sopping mess between your thighs and the franticness Joel’s belt and jeans were undone to relieve the pressure on the effect you had over him. His middle digit found your clit, circling slowly while he enjoyed the way your back was arching and the subdued whimpers ever so faintly evident in your panting breath. His hair was still knotted in your grasp and you greedily tugged his lips back to yours, sloppily kissing him as you let the heat coursing through you take control, losing your inhibitions and enjoying this long-awaited moment.

Your gluttonous body welcomed him eagerly when he dragged lower and slid inside your waiting channel, his hand clamping over your mouth just in time to muffle the wanton cry that finally broke free. The way he shushed you only made it worse, your body bucking down against his hand impatient for more. Slipping his ring finger in stretched you even further, his pace increasing as you writhed in his hold, your breath hot on his palm as it puffed out in blissful little gusts.

“Warmin’ up?” he cooed gruffly, his tone hinting at cocky as you cried out again, his fingers scratching at the rough patch deep inside of blackening what little your vision could see.

You were teetering on the edge, your body rocking on the precipice before his thumb pressed down on your buzzing bundle of nerves and sent you rappelling down into euphoria. White hot heat banished the last of the cold that lingered, your hairline damp as your shirt clung to the sweat pouring down your back.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he soothed, continuing gentler now as you spasmed in his arms, “That felt good, didn’t it?”

All you could muster was a nod, the hand that was still lightly covering your mouth gripping your chin and directing your mouth to his again, his tongue probing into your parted lips as you collected enough coherence to kiss him lazily in return.

“Your turn,” you breathed, a crooked smirk twitching as he pulled your jeans down to the middle of your thighs, shifting enough to free himself from his loosened garments.

“You tell me if it ain’t right,” he instructed, nuzzling his nose behind your ear as the head of his cock slipped between your folds, pushing into you slowly as he sighed in contentment.

It was right. It was so fucking right you instinctually fucked yourself back, sheathing him completely in one swift movement. He was long and thick, stretching you past where any other had gotten you, your body molding around him as if it had been waiting for him to make it whole. A hand on your hip kept you still had he began to gently rut into you, acclimating to the feeling of being immersed in a woman’s warm, wet heat in an effort to not cut this shorter than it already probably would be. You were impossibly full, it had been a long time since you’d trusted anyone enough for this, your fingers no match for what he could do and the way he made you feel.

“Shit, you feel good,” he purred in that Texan accent that made you swoon, “You okay?”

“Uh-huh,” you gasped, your fingers returning to his hair to cradle him close.

The pace picked up, his hand on your hip sliding back between your thighs as he thrust harder and faster chasing a high he hadn’t felt in years. You wanted more, wanted to give him more, and as he began to lose control your body began to drift from your side to your stomach, his arms working to brace himself over your prone form as you lifted your hips slightly into the air to feel every punch of his hips on yours. Your ass rippled against his force, his grunts fueling the second wave crashing against your lower abdomen, the pressure building rapidly as he fucked into you like a man starved. The crook of your arm caught your sounds as he sought relief in you, the only thing keeping you in place were his hands as your knees slipped on the bare surface of the mattress you were pressed into.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he mewled, slamming you back onto his length as he surged forward, every inch of him buried deep in your cunt until you were strangling him as you came again, him following not long behind.

When he finally stilled you could feel him spurting thick and hot inside of you, your pussy still twitching around him as your shaky legs burned from the exertion. As he pulled out you whined in protest at the loss, your body collapsing down as he reached for a rag and began wiping what was leaking from between your legs.

“Shouldn’t have done that,” he griped as another glob dripped free, “Got carried away.”

“Timing should work in our favor,” you eased, your cycle still the only normal thing left in this God-forsaken world and he grunted in acknowledgment, his brow relaxing from its concerned grimace.

“We should get some sleep.”

You nodded, watching him carefully as he settled back down on his back, his head turning to peer at you and finding your wide-eyed anticipation staring back at him. With a chuckle he opened his right arm out welcoming you onto his chest, a gesture you scampered to take before he changed his mind. You tucked yourself into the space between his neck and jaw, your arm draping over his middle as he wrapped you up tight. It didn’t take long to fall asleep.

When you woke the next morning he was already up, repacking up and readying for another day on the road to nowhere.

“We’re headin’ down to settle somewhere,” he sounded from the corner, his gaze remaining locked on his open pack, “figured you could get your fresh start there.”

“With you?” you asked timidly, your voice still heavy with sleep after the best night of rest you’d had in years.

“I don’t see why not.”

Ellie’s arrival into the kitchen you and Joel had slept in cut your conversation short, her always perceptive eyes flicking from you to Joel on the other side of the room.

“Did you two finally seal the deal?” the teenager asked nonchalantly, both your faces falling in horror. You thought you’d been quiet. “What? Don’t worry, my innocent eyes and ears were spared if you did. You’ve just…never smiled at her when she’s actually looking.”

Joel Miller Masterlist

Series coming soon: More Than My Father’s Son

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