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ccsainzleclerc5516 · 2 months

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You Could Be Mine

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Warnings: smut

It was a hot summer evening and you found yourself on a private party on a 100 m yacht in Monaco hosted by none other than Lando Norris. Actually, you weren't initially invited, your best friend was, but when she mentioned to Lando that you were in town too, he was more than happy to send you a verbal invitation through her.

Lando and you have a history together. You met a year ago in a club when you were visiting Monaco for the first time. He was your friend's friend and from the first moment you laid eyes on each other there was an undeniable attraction between you two. You spent 3 unforgettable wild nights together back then, but there has never been anything more since then.

And here you were again, back in town, at his party. There was quite a lot of people for a private party, a lot of girls too, but his eyes were glancing at you the whole night. You could feel his gaze searching for you, but you also saw how many girls around him were practically begging for his attention and you weren't gonna be one of them.

You don't want him that much, you thought.

That's why he couldn't wait to catch you alone somewhere. Once you wandered onto the upper deck, the highest one where was no people, Lando saw his chance and took it. You two quickly got into talking. He was so obviously flirting with you, he really wasn't wasting any time, he wanted to let you know that you've been on his mind and that he didn't forget about your nights together.

"So for how long are you staying in Monaco?" He asked stepping closer to you holding his hands in the pockets of his white linen pants.

"Two more nights." You say biting your lip.

"That's such a shame.." Pulling them out of his pockets, one of his hands finds its way to your cheek and the other to your waist pulling you closer to him. "If only I'd known sooner that you were here..."

"And why is that?" You ask glancing at his lips as his thumb caresses your cheek.

He runs his tongue over his lip then gently traces with his finger over your bottom lip before mumbling "What if I told you I've been getting off to the thought of you?"

You smirk squeezing your thighs hoping he wouldn't notice it while your faces are only inches away from each other's.

"It wasn't easy to forget you either, I must admit"

"Yeah?" He asks and you nod putting your hands against his chest looking up at him. "So what are we gonna do about it then?"

"Well, you tell me"

"I'd rather show you" He murmurs before he finally presses his lips against yours. The kiss gradually changed from gentle and slow to fast, passionate and heated. He was hungry for more of whatever this was between the two of you. His tongue ran over your bottom lip asking for permission to enter which you willingly granted.

"Fuck, I forgot what a good kisser you are" He pants and you blush hiding your face in his shoulder. He gently moves your hair out of your neck so he can leave sloppy kisses that send tingly feelings through your body.

His hand slowly comes between your thighs slowly working its way up under your short dress as you slightly part your legs for him. Just as his fingers were about to reach your wet lace panties, a squeaky female voice interrupts you.

"Lando!" The girl screams from downstairs making you quickly close and squeeze your thighs at the loss of his touch as he pulls back from you. "Where are you? Are you coming down?" The girl asks climbing a few stairs to see him. It was the girl who had been crawling all over him all evening desperately trying to get a minute of his attention. Her gaze stops at you raising her eyebrow and eyeing you up and down.

"Give me a minute" Lando says brushing her off to which she mumbles something rolling her eyes, clearly annoyed at his lack of interests, and leaves.

"Is that your girlfriend to be?" You provoke.

"She'd like that, but she never will be" He reassures you once again pulling your body closer to him. "But you could be" You giggle, but don't say anything to his unexpected proposal?

"I'd love to fuck you against this fence now," He whispers squeezing your hips. "But I'll do that in the morning when everyone leaves"

"What makes you think I'll be here in the morning?" You tease him.

"There's no way I'm letting you go before I show you how much I've been thinking about you." He groans as you slowly lift your leg and press your knee lightly into his crotch. "Fuck, you're driving me crazy..Come with me right now"

Lando goes down the stairs first and you follow behind him. He takes your hand leading you as you two disappear unnoticed into one of the rooms on the yacht.

As soon as the door closed he was pressing you against them forcing his tongue inside your mouth and lifting up your dress. You whimpered as he vigorously turned you around pulling your panties to the side and gently pushing your cheek against the hard surface of the door. He slipped his fingers inside you only to spread your wetness all over your slit and over his tip before teasing you with it.

"Lan" You moaned.

"What baby?" He murmurs into your ear rubbing his cock over your folds, but not pushing himself in. "Tell me what you want"

"Stop with the teasing and fuck me already"

"Fuck, you turn me on so much you don't even know. Feel how hard you make me? It's fucking aching for you" He hisses grinding against your ass.

He positions his cock at your entrance and you eagerly push your ass back on him. You were dripping wet so he slid in without the slightest trouble.

"So ready for me" He groans scraping his teeth over your bare shoulder making you shiver. "You're so tight baby, fuuuck"

He was thrusting into you deep and fast, your ass was grinding back against his pelvis as the sound of your skin slapping against each other filled the room. You were so into each other that you weren't even trying to be quiet. You almost forgot that anyone could walk by the room and hear your moaning.

As the familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach started building, from the other side of the door, the squeaky voice of the girl who interrupted you once was heard again.

"Lando?"

"Shit" The voice snaps you back to reality as he abruptly stops moving making you whine ruining your orgasm.

"Lando, are you in there?" She asks again. He puts his hand over your mouth breathing heavily as he slowly starts moving again.

"Should I tell her how deep inside of me you are?" You ask quietly removing his hand from your mouth.

"She's fucking crazy, and I don't want anyone to touch you" He pulls out of you and turns you around to face him.

"I'm not scared of her, I know she can't have you the way I can" You didn't even mind that she was behind the door because you knew you had all his attention, you knew he was starving only your touch.

You start kissing his wide neck, running your tongue over the veins that were popping out as he throws his head back.

"Fuck, she's not even half of you"

He reaches under your ass tapping your thighs signaling you to jump and wrap your legs around his waist. When you do so he leads you to the bed gently throwing you down and getting on top of you.

"I missed you" He says looking at your lips before you connect them. You were clinging to each other as he started thrusting into you again only this time slow, deep and raw. He was enjoying the feeling of your walls tightly hugging him.

"I missed you too" You were moaning into each other's mouth, gasping for air as both of you were getting closer and closer. "Faster, Lan, please"

"You gonna cum with me?" He asks. You nod and he quickens his pace. "I'm n-not pulling out, okay?" His voice cracked and legs trembled. You didn't even have time to answer as your climax penetrated your whole body. Lando's quickly followed by filling you up to the top.

"Ohh fuuck" He moaned before collapsing down on you.

When your breathing calmed down he propped himself up on his elbows looking at you and caressing your cheek before placing a soft kiss on it. "You okay, baby?" He asks.

"Yeah" You blush at the nickname he didn't call you by the last time you were together.

"Why are you blushing?" He asks smiling, but you're too shy to say why. "Tell me"

"I'm not telling you"

"Is it because I called you baby?" You giggle trying to hide your face to the side from him, but his fingers pull your chin back to face him. "I'm not letting you leave Monaco this time. You're staying here with me."

#lando norris x reader #lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris smut #lando x reader #lando norris fluff #lando norris one shot #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 smut #f1 one shot #f1 imagine #f1 blurb #f1 fluff

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hearts4sturniolo · 3 months

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SLOW DOWN -m. sturniolo

PAIRING; bf!matt + gf!reader

CW; smut. m!receiving. oral. semi voyeurism. sub!matt but also matt praises you? they don't fuck, but they probably will later!

AUTHORS NOTE; had to write this twice because tumblr hates me, but shoutout anon who recommended this because ts was so fun to write. ik you said quickie and TECHNICALLY its not a quickie, but i still hope you enjoy it ;)

music filled the car as the two of you continued your adventure for the day. matt needed to run errands and you happily tagged along, wanting any sort of time with your boyfriend. matt quietly hummed whatever song he had put on the radio as you looked over at him, turning the wheel to guide the both of you into the car wash parking lot.

god did he look good today, well he did everyday, but today was different. his hair fell perfectly on his forehead so that he could just barely see through it. his tee shirt fit snug around his biceps in a way that drove you insane. his fingers, adorned with rings, gripped the steering wheel just right that it made you want to drag him into the backseat at that moment to fuck him.

your legs instinctively squeezed together as he rode up to the payment machine. he reached half his body out the car to fiddle with the buttons as his shirt rode up on him, his happy trail visible to your hungry eyes. you forced yourself to look away because at that point, you were eye fucking him. the car shifts as he sits back down, completely oblivious to the thoughts in your head at that moment. he drove the car forward before putting it in neutral and letting the car wash do its thing.

“which scent did you pick this time? tropical?” you asked, trying to get your head out of the gutter for a moment.

“yeah, i dont know why the fuck the one last time smelled so chemically, that was not ocean breeze.” matt emphasized the word ‘not’, a smile forming on his face

“i could have told you that baby, but you wanted to see the blue bubbles so.” you trailed off, facial expression matching his as you reached over to ruffle his hair.

the nozzles outside began spraying water and white foam over the top of the car as he blindly tried to fix his hair. his body fully turned towards you as he reached over to cup your cheek, the touch immediately making you turn a light shade of red.

“with all the running around we’ve been doing today, i’ve had barely any time to kiss you.” matt spoke, eyes darting to your lips.

you wordless answered back as you leaned over to connect your lips. his hand pushed into your hair as he softly deepened the kiss. the two of your lips moving slowly together as the car inched through the building. matts tongue brushed your bottom lip, as if he was asking for permission to enter. you parted your lips as his tongue began to explore your mouth like hes never kissed you before. your hands raked through his hair as a soft noise was emitted from him. fingers getting tangled in his hair as you lightly pulled, the same noise coming from him again.

“please baby.” he gasped against your lips, the sound of his voice in that manner making you more wet by the second.

one hand left his hair as it reached down to lay upon his lap, nails brushing against the, very noticeable, hard dick in his pants. “you want me to touch you?” you asked, voice filled to the brim with lust.

“yes, please baby, please.” he begged, that was enough to send you over the edge. you made quick work with unzipping his jeans and tugging them, and his boxers, down just enough for his aching cock to spring free.

you looked from his dick, to making eye contact with him, and then back to his dick. your mouth was watering at this point, but you still asked, “what do you want me to do, sweet boy?”

“mouth, please, i want to feel your mouth.” his hips bucked up, begging for just a taste of some sort of friction provided by you.

and who were you to deny that of him when he asked so sweetly? you lowered your head down, licking one stripe from the base to the tip of his cock before wrapping your lips around him.

he moaned lowly as a hand flew back to the back of your head to guide you. you turned your head to look up at him as you saw the car getting darker, thick bubbles coating the windows. the thought of someone being able to know what's going on crept into the back of your mind, but it was only an incentive to keep going. you bobbed your head up and down, taking his dick as far as you could in your throat.

“feel so good baby, you’re doing so good for me, just like that.” he grunted, hand pushing the back of your head faster now, being careful to not hurt you or make you gag.

as you sucked, you let your tongue start to graze the top of his tip, knowing it was his favorite when you did that. you knew exactly what to do to make him feel so good. you felt him shift underneath you as his hips began to buck up into your mouth, causing you to take him deeper.

lewd, wet noises took over the once music filled car as you helped him chase his orgasm. as seconds passed, you took his dick as deep as you could as his hips stuttered forward, your nose now touching his pelvis.

“fuck sweetheart, im cumming.” he groaned out, warm liquid began shooting in spurts down the back of your throat. your head now slowly bobbing to allow him to ride out his high, after a moment he began to whimper, desperately attempting to pull your head off of his overstimulated dick.

you sat up as you looked over at him, his cheeks were beat read and his hair was all sorts of messed up now. you locked eyes with him as you licked your lips, gathering all remnants of him off your lips. he pulled his pants up and fixed himself before turning back to you.

“that was fucking inc-” he tried to speak as the car jolted to a stop, reaching the outside of the car wash just in time.

“mhm.” you agreed, you didn't know what he was going to say, but you could imagine. a small smirk appeared on your face.

he shifted the car back into drive as his foot pressed the gas, his hand reaching over to rest on your inner thigh. heat still radiating from your soaking wet pussy, aching to be touched. “it's been a long day, how about we head home and i can help you out, darling.” he spoke, turning to catch your face turn red yet again as he sped the car up, racing to your shared home.

TAGLIST: @cindylcuwho @cindylcuwhoknows @solarsturniolo @gamermattsgf @lacysturniolo @st7rnioioss @thesturniolos

#Spotify #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo edit #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader

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jojissalsa · 7 months

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The Perfect View

leon always notices the little things about you, especially when you hint at wanting something. and if you want a better view, he’ll give it to you.

Warnings: established relationship, dom!Leon x sub!reader, fem reader/gendered language (girl, pretty girl, you get the gist), choking, breeding kink if you squint, praise, filming during sex, a little bit of condescension, basically Leon being a sweetheart and a smug little shit. So just normal Leon.

WC: 2.6k (proofread as well)

hey y’all!!! this is my first leon fanfic/smut i’ve written/posted soooo i’m a lil nervous but hope you guys will like it!! critique, reposts and requests are always welcome <3 (also minors do not interact, go touch grass.)

Leon always loved the little heart to hearts you two would have, or the late night confessions, even if they got a lil horny. It was like talking to your girl-friends, TMI didn’t exist between you guys. The reason was simple, really. He just loved talking to you, loved hearing every thought that swam in that gorgeous head of yours. Tonight was no different, sitting in bed finishing the brownies you baked because he finally came home after a long mission. And because you’re bored without him. “Hold on, elaborate-” His muffled voice came through as he finally swallowed the bite he took, giving you that look. Like he knew you were about to divulge some info he would never let you get away with. Always loved to tease you about everything, remembering little things you tell him because you just have no shame and can never keep a thing from him, just so he can see the blush on your face as you giggle and get all shy. He can’t help it, it’s too cute. “What do you mean I get the best view? Am I not pretty enough for you?” He watched as you rolled your eyes at his dramatic tone, setting down your brownie folded into a napkin in your lap. “No, that’s not what I’m saying, I’d have to be blind to not think you’re gorgeous~” You say it in that lovey dovey voice that makes him wave his hand in an ‘Aww, you~’ kind of way, making you laugh every time, cause he picked it up from you. Typical Leon. “I’m just saying you have the best angles, there’s a difference. Like, when I’m bent over, I have to crane my neck just to look at you, and plus, I can’t even look at the action. I get lucky if we’re in front of a mirror, but usually I just get the view of the floor or the bed.” You chuckle at his intrigued expression, always so eager to learn how you think.”I dunno, I just think it’s hot, watching you move inside me..” You look down at the brownie in your lap with a sheepish smile, a pink hue on your cheeks accompanying it as you look back up to Leon’s raised eyebrows. “What? Too much?” Raising your own eyebrows, hoping you didn’t say something too down bad. “No, no, I get it. I mean, obviously I’m biased, but I do have the perfect view.” He teased, throwing his hands up nonchalantly which makes you playfully swat his arm before going back to whatever you were talking about before.

As per usual, Leon had a hard time forgetting what you said. Well, it’s not like the information was anything new or groundbreaking. He already knew what you liked, you would always look down while he towered over you, watching with bated breath as he stroked his cock, his other hand spreading you open before sliding him over your slit, gathering slick on his cock before slowly stretching you out. So needy, he’d think to himself as you finally inhale and moan as he bottoms out, tilting your head back in bliss. Again, this was nothing new. So when he had you writhing beneath him, lips parted with each sigh and hum, plump and glossy with saliva, he pulled the final piece of clothing off you and smirked at how you spread your legs instinctively. Such a well behaved girl, he praises you in his head, especially when you listen to him as he asks you to flip over, kicking his jeans off as you arch your back and push your ass up and towards him. Now that makes Leon say it out loud, tugging his boxers down and letting them fall down his ankles and onto the floor before getting on his knees behind you. He always takes a second to admire you, how pretty you look as you gasp when he presses his hard cock against your slick cunt, whimpering as you grind against him. But this time he takes another second to look at the nightstand, praying to god he remembered to keep his phone there. He can never think straight when he’s like this, and you’re always to blame, not that he’s complaining. The moan you let out as he slowly pushed himself inside you nearly made his mind go blank, though, that didn’t stop the soft whimper he lets out from the feeling of your wet walls, keeping his cock so damn warm- Focus, Leon. During the small window of letting you adjust to his size he grabs his phone, your closed eyes and blissed out expression telling him he doesn't have to worry about you noticing him slightly leaning to pick it up or why both of his hands aren't on you. Leon, who’s always the perfectionist, making sure the angle is perfect while fucking into you unbearably slow before going at that unrelenting pace you both love, feeling his strong hand move from your hip to your hair as you start to scream into the pillows. "Aww, don't hide, baby, you sound so pretty like that.. Mhm, there you go, let it all out..” And you do, and he swears it’s the most beautiful thing his ears could be blessed with. "Shit, so fucking tight, always make it so damn hard not to cum." It's his favorite thing to do, tilting your head to the side so he can hear how good he makes you feel. "Loosen up a little, that's it, I'm right here.." He just loves to make you go into that syrupy, fuzzy space in your brain where you have no shame or worries, just him, and him alone. Cause that's really all he wants, for that pretty little head of yours to be empty and happy with thoughts of him.

That's when he finally starts recording, letting out a low chuckle as the sinful sound of your whines and gasps mix with his heavy grunts, skin slapping against skin filling their shared bedroom, making the room feel hot and smell of pure sex, continuing to overpower your senses. Everything about Leon overpowers you, he just makes you weak, and it feels so safe. Like a lovesick puppy, always nuzzling against him to smell his musk when he comes home from a long day at work, or wearing his shirts to get a whiff of that cologne that definitely costs more than 2 years worth of your salary. It smells even better when he’s so fucking deep inside you, the scent of his sweat and cologne mixing with the hot air as your ears take in the sound of his downright dirty moans, and the little whimpers he lets out that get louder when he slows down, the tip of his cock kissing your womb so perfectly.

And while you’re under him, babbling about how deep he’s fucking you, completely cockdrunk in a matter of mere minutes, he can't stop thinking about your reaction to his cute little gesture. How tight you'll clench around him when he finally shows you the incredible view you wanted to see. You weren't wrong when you said he gets the best view- sorry, angle, as you so delicately put it. The way your hips instinctively move to meet his, how the fat of your ass jiggles every time it meets his pelvis. Always such a good girl for taking him so deep, and the best part, of course. Your cute cunt milking him dry, he can see how perfectly your pussy molds around his cock, even if he's the biggest you've ever had (and will have) it's still the best sight in the world. It looks even better when you cum around him, your body shaking as you scream his name loud enough for the whole block to hear, pussy gushing on his cock and practically swallowing him whole with how tight you're milking him, like he might leave if you don't hold him tight in your pussy.

So when he feels you getting close, instead of the usual hand between your legs to rub circles on your clit, pushing you over the edge, he just stops recording and grabs a handful of your hair, pulling it from your roots to make into a makeshift ponytail in his fist as he raises your head and moves his phone in front of your face, the sight of his cock slamming into you over and over again playing like it was on loop. Holy shit, was all you think, and say for that matter as you watched the scene play out in front of you, your wide eyes staring straight at where you two connected, watching as you coated his cock with every stroke of your walls. It didn’t take long for you to feel that familiar burn in your stomach, and it showed in how pathetic you looked, and sounded.

Honestly, the thought of him listening to that little thing could've made you cum on its own. The conscious side of your brain saying “Aww, he cares that much to do this for me? I'm the luckiest girl in the world” but what’s really gonna make you cum is the way he's showing you. "Look at that, doll, watch that sweet pussy suck me in, so fucking greedy you just needed to see it while you feel it, hmm?" His growling and whispering in that smug fucking tone that drives you crazy and makes you so wet it’s almost uncomfortable, just envisioning his stupid, signature, cocky grin widening as you clench tighter around him makes your head spin. His hips are still slamming into your cunt, but instead of that sound of skin slapping skin it's somehow even more erotic. That wet, squelching sound just reminding you of how good everything feels, even as your eyes fixate on Leon's phone you can start to feel him hit that sweet spot deep in your velvety walls and it makes you so goddamn weak that all you can muster to do or say is groan and cry out as your eyes roll back momentarily, before you looked at his phone again. “Hear that? Oh, yeah you do. Got that needy cunt so goddamn wet. I did a good job, huh, babe? Yeah I did..” The way he coos at you makes you whimper his name as you get closer with each thrust, coupled with the fact that he went out of his way to time his thrusts with the video sent you right over the edge, not daring to squeeze your eyes shut the way you usually do before cumming hard, screaming and growling until your throat goes hoarse and dry, not even having the energy to thrash and squirm. Just sit there and take it.

Oh, and Leon noticed how much you loved his little gift, he took in everything about your reaction. The way your eyes went wide, your pupils blown out with lust, and the delicious feeling of you tightening on his dick. He twitched as he watched you groan and practically sob about how good it feels, yet no thank you? He wouldn't have that. "Did you just cum? Feels that good, huh? Can't even babble fucking nonsense in my ear, you like it that much? Thank me." He throws his phone somewhere on the bed, leaning down to whisper closer to your ear, his grip leaving your hair to wrap his bicep around your neck. He’s really pulling out all the stops tonight, hmm? "Thank me, 's all I wanna hear from that dirty mouth. You spout all that nasty shit, the least you could do is thank me." And you do, chanting it like a mantra, like he's God himself saving you. "Thank you, fuck, thank you Leon, thank you, oh god-" your voice is just as broken as your sobs and nearly pathetic whimpering and you're rewarded greatly, his arm tightening around your neck, cutting off your air for a few seconds. "Good girl, so sweet, aren't you? Always so grateful, that's why I treat you like the princess you are. So damn pretty, show me how pretty you are, baby.” He makes sure he can see your face as you cum again, a deep groan from his chest rumbling against your back. “There you go, there's that pretty face I love." A pretty face indeed, that cock-drunk expression as you smile and bite your lip until it bleeds, groaning before the knot in your stomach comes undone again, the gasp and moan coming from your lips pornographic. "Le-Leon I'm cumming, fuck, fuck, cumming-" cutting yourself off as you sob and squirm under him, brows frowned as you pout and whimper while he fucks you through your orgasm.

The sounds that leave you makes it impossible for him not to cum, cooing and shushing you as his arm leaves your neck so you can lay that pretty empty head on the soft pillows, stroking your waist in the most tender way, his thrusts becoming sloppy. "I know baby, shhh, it's okay, you can take it, I'm close.. fuck-" you feel his cock kick inside you, the warm feeling of his cum coating your walls. "Fuck, you take it so good, your pussy was made to take my cum.." His filthy words and heavy panting keeps your brain in that hazy state as he slowly pulls out of you, sliding both hands down your waist and to your ass, thumbs sinking into the meat of your pussy as he spreads you open. You try to catch your breath as his cum makes its way out of you, but the air in your throat is swiftly taken from you as you feel his thick fingers push his cum back inside you. “God, I’ll never get tired of seeing that. Seeing my cum leak out of this pretty pussy. My pretty pussy.” His possessive words never fail to make you blush and smile like a madman, because it makes you too happy. You could die happy knowing you’re his.

You finally come down to reality, finding comfort in his arms as they wrap around your waist and gently lay you on your side, keeping you close to his chest. You get that warm, lovely feeling as you hear his string of praises. "Such a good girl, took me so well.. love my sweet girl so much, you deserve the world, don't you, princess?" His soft kisses on your shoulder make your heart flutter, taking a quick look at his smile over your shoulder. The warm feeling in your heart at his loving embrace doesn't last long when you hear him chuckle softly. "Y'know, you're terrible at asking for things.." you shoot him an annoyed glance, rolling your eyes. "Maybe I wasn't asking for anything." You huffed, tilting your head away from his smug look and crossing your arms. You’re also terrible at lying. "Sure, like you don't do that thing where you're just mentioning something in passing, totally not hinting at wanting it." That one gets you, because no one has really noticed that but him. Maybe you were always being subtle, or maybe people didn't care enough. It could be that Leon just sees every little thing you say or do, because he's just so observant. You like to think it's because he's just sooooo infatuated with you. "Fine. I'll give you that one, if you help me to the bathroom." You could barely hide the smirk creeping on your face, clearly happy at the prospect of him caring that much. "Deal." He says sweetly, kissing your cheek before getting up and walking over to your side of the bed to help you into the shower. Count that deep seeded want crossed off the mental bucket list.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon resident evil #leon re4 #leon kennedy x fem reader #dom!leon kennedy #sub!reader #smut #resident evil smut #leon kennedy smut

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lov1ngreid · 6 months

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BOYS LIKE YOU | 2

back to PART ONE

(pairings): highschool!spencer + cheerleader!reader

(warnings): none <3

(word count): 4K

(author’s note): hii i’m so happy to see all the love on part one! i’m so sorry this took a little longer than usual to be posted i’ve had a busy few days, i’ve got plans for one more part for this series, i hope you’ve enjoyed so far 🩷🩷 also I don’t know how i feel about the end of this part, so let me know any feedback!!

listen to what i did when i wrote this! ➘

Quickly, you opened his bedroom door to stand at the top of the stairwell, scanning over the living room with ease considering how high up you were. Making sure both your families were occupied with whatever thanksgiving nonsense had presented itself.

Quickly turning your head back to Spencer who stood in the doorway of his bedroom incredibly confused, you silently gestured to him to follow you with the nod of your head, it takes him a few seconds of internally fighting himself before he follows your lead, hopping down the stairs a few beats behind you before the both of you reach the bottom.

“You ready?” You say, getting on your tippy toes to whisper it quietly in his ear, you almost had forgotten how tall he was.

Confused, Spencer’s brows furrow before answering “ready for wh- Ow!” He groaned, hunching over a little at the pain, you felt a little bad for kicking him in the ankle with your boot, but you knew he deserved it a little for being so mean about your cupcake.

“Oh no!” You exclaimed, obviously acting to Spencer but you seemed to have convinced everyone else “I think Spencer sprained his ankle!” Gasping you pretend to comfort him moving him to the dining room chair as he glared at you from the side of his eye, almost instantly his parents had rushed over to the both of you instantly drowning him in worry.

“Are you okay sweetie?” Diana rushed reaching down to touch the ankle he had his hand over, he took a second to look up at you before answering.

“I don’t think so, it really hurts” he huffed rubbing the ankle in question, it shouldn’t have made you smile, but you thought it was sweet that he was going along with your plan and not immediately telling everyone you had just kicked him in the ankle.

It was like when you were kids creating elaborate stories as to why you needed $20 from your parents, claiming it was so you could buy a new textbook for class, when you really just bought Call of duty and played it in his room.

“I can take him to the ER” you offer looking down at Diana “he really shouldn’t be walking on it” nodding, you look between her and Spencer, attempting to read her facial expressions for any suspicions that this one really one big lie.

She looks up at Spencer for a moment, breaking her gaze with him to look at you before nodding “I think that’s a good idea” she smiles reaching up from Spencer to grab your hand in hers, you feel her soft warm palms grasp yours before she rushes to the kitchen for a moment.

Having both your families huddled around the both of you made keeping up the facade incredibly difficult, sure, you could lie to just about everyone and anyone, but lying to your family who knew you more than anything was beginning to become a little difficult.

Diana rushes back with an ice pack before leaning back down to Spencer’s ankle to press it against the bone softly. “Here” your dad mumbles, fishing his car keys from his left pant pocket before tossing them in your direction, so unexpectedly that you barely catch them, fumbling them in the process which causes Spencer to laugh a little beside you.

The first time you had heard him laugh all night, the first time you had heard him laugh in years.

“You’re dead if you scratch that car” your dad sternly tells you before he takes another swig of his beer, pressing your lips together nodding quickly, you glance back down at Spencer for a second seeing a small smirk grow on his face knowing everyone had believed your little coordinated stunt.

After a few moments of hustle, you recruit Brodie to help hobble Spencer out to the black suv as both your parents follow behind, you were still shocked that the scheme had even worked, and that Spencer had gone through with it.

“Why are you here?”

“I thought I’d come along?” Brodie shrugged, clicking his seatbelt before switching his gaze from the backseat between both you and Spencer.

“Get out” you smile nodding for him to leave.

“Why?” He spits, suspicions growing in his mind as his gaze flicks faster between you and Spencer “and since when are you guys even friends?” confused his mouth agape while memories of both Spencer and you being absent from the night caught up to him, if you were going to get away with something, it wasn’t going to be with brodie, that boy was seemingly always one step ahead of you.

He continues to look between the both of you as you both stammer for a response “Oh gross!” He exclaims unbuckling his seatbelt in an instance “are you guys hooking up?” His mouth drops, absolutely staggered by his own conclusion.

Seemingly one step ahead.

You and Spencer stare at each other mouths agape before Spencer begins to loudly, and rudely start fake gagging in response to Brodie claims, shocked you slap Spencer on the shoulder shaking your head in offense, there is no way on earth that boy was seriously fake gagging at the thought of hooking up with you.

“I don’t think there’s a single universe where that would happen” Spencer presses his lips together rubbing his arm where you had inflicted your second act of violence against him tonight.

“Oh?…” Brodie trails off, still incredibly confused on what sort of game you both were playing here.

“I’ll you don’t leave I’ll tell mom how you accidentally linked her credit card to your ark account”

“Okay see ya!” His eyebrows raised before scurrying out of the backseat of the car slamming the door behind him.

You and Spencer sit in comfortable silence for a moment taking deep breaths, both shocked your plan had actually worked.

After a few minutes you break the silence “by the way, in that alternate universe where we don’t hook up, is because I rejected you not the other way around” you point at him before buckling your seatbelt, Spencer only responds by holding his hands up in defense.

The car ride was almost silent other than the sound of the radio quietly playing and your blinker clicking away at each turn, Spencer spent the time gazing out the passenger window watching the houses zoom past him and watched the trees sway in the wind. His mind catches up when he sees the familiar 2 storey white paneled house with your baby blue volkswagen beetle convertible parked in the driveway.

“Why are we at your house?” Spencer questions, concerned, every possible situation flashes through his mind, were you pranking him? Were all your friends waiting there to laugh at him?

You switched the car off before turning to answer “did you think you were going wearing that?” Raking your eyes across his outfit, cringing again at the sight of it “it’s thanksgiving, you’d think you’d at least wear something nice” scoffing you open the drivers seat door before hurrying into your home.

Spencer opens his door before rushing to trail behind you “this is my nice doctor who shirt” he mumbles looking down at his own outfit, ignoring whatever loser sentence had just come from his mouth you push open your door nodding for him to follow.

You don’t turn around to make sure he’s keeping up with you before you hurry up the stairs making a beeline for your bedroom, once Spencer realizes where you’re headed, his footsteps behind you slow down a little only causing you to turn around confused.

“Um I don’t think I should go in there” he mumbled, staring at your bedroom door like he had just seen a ghost.

“Why?” You question, confusion painted over your face.

“It’s just- I don’t know, I just don’t want to” he rushed, face turning pink in embarrassment, it was as if any sort of confidence he had before completely diminished in front of you.

What if he was right? All your friends were sitting in there waiting for him to enter obliviously. He could only imagine how loud their laughs would be, he could almost hear it ringing through his ears.

Tilting your head you watch Spencer as he stands in shock staring at your door, you wave your hand in front of his face, clicking him out of whatever world he had entered “You’re scared of my room?”

“No- no… there’s no one in there, is there?” He sheepishly responds, pink traveling up to the tips of his ears.

“Yeah Spence the whole cheer squad is in there” the colour instantly drains from his pink embarrassment ridden face “no, there’s no one in my room… weirdo” you whisper pulling the door handle to swing it open, Spencer almost flinched at the sight of your bedroom.

Unlike his, your room was completely re arranged, the colour of your walls even had even been painted from pastel pink to light grey. He took a moment to scan around the room, everything had a place, every colour cohesive. He paused a little when he glanced at the numerous photo frames scattered across your bedroom, frames that once held photos of you at dance competitions, photos of you and Spencer riding your bikes or at your birthday parties, had been replaced by photos of your cheer team or you and your group of friends at parties.

Except for the picture frame on your bedside table, inserted with a photo of the both of you from science camp discovering how hydrogen peroxide and potassium iodide reacted for the first time.

He felt his heart unwillingly tighten at the thought that you still cared about him at least a little.

“Alright” you mumble digging through your wardrobe drawers completely oblivious to Spencer wandering your room deep in thought “here!” You exclaim pulling the grey hoodie from the bottom of your drawer, you chuck it at Spencer unexpectedly causing him to stumble backwards a little at the impact.

“Who’s is this?” he wonders, holding the hoodie up to see the garment, which was evidently much too large for you.

“Mine” you answer, while you tried to tidy up your now messy wardrobe, he shoots you a look, and despite you not being able to see, you could feel it by the silence “I like to buy boys hoodies” shrugging you stand back up brushing past him to Brodies room, in search of some pants, letting out a little ‘aha!’ when you found the one nice pair of jeans brodie owned, which you had bought.

You tossed the jeans at his chest which is he surprisingly caught this time around. You stood in the doorway of your room for a moment while Spencer held the pile of clothes in his arms, stunned like a deer in headlights.

“I’m gonna go downstairs so you can change” you nod before closing the door and hopping down the stairs before he could respond.

You hadn’t even had time to check your phone since you had gotten to thanksgiving, switching it on, the screen filled with numerous group chat messages and texts from your friends asking if you were still coming, which only earned a groan from you, you loved your friends, really, but sometimes it felt like they always wanted something from you.

Snapped out of your thoughts by your door snapping closed, you look up from the kitchen island to see Spencer’s black converse stepping down the stairs.

You’d never actually seen him wear anything other than graphic T-shirt’s and sweaters before, and although you thought those were indeed very him. It was like you were seeing a completely different version of him.

a version that didn’t dress like a clone of your brother.

“I feel stupid” he chuckles looking down at what he was wearing.

“You look cute” you smile at him laughing a little before switching your attention back to your phone.

Although a small gesture from you, your words made Spencer huff with a loss of breath, not one person in his entire life besides his mother had called him cute, other than you.

He stood there reminded of the times you used to ensure he looked cute while wearing a tree costume for the annual middle school play, or when he broke his arm and you had to convince him he looked fine with his cast, although he felt stupid you had told him he looked cute, you even drew pink hearts on his cast to make sure he knew.

But you called everyone that, he knew it was your favourite adjective.

“Alright” you chirp snapping him from his thoughts “you ready to go?” Spencer fizzles out from his thoughts to respond with a nod, which you return with a smile grabbing your keys from the kitchen bench.

The car ride remained silence for the most part, ears filled with the speakers softly playing Faye Webster and the sounds of cars buzzing around you.

“You know, you’re a lot quieter then when I tried giving you that cupcake” you chuckle turning for a moment to look at Spencer’s jawline as he gazed out the passenger window.

You only watched him shrug from the corner of your eye before responding “I feel safer in my room… in my house I guess” mumbling Spencer looks down at his lap before he starts to pick at his fingers.

You glance over again, watching how the red like from the traffic light shone over his face, you lick your lips before answering “I like it when you’re nice to me” you admit sheepishly snapping your head to meet the road again.

“I’d like it if your friends were nice to me” he mumbles again not daring to meet your eyes scared of your reaction.

“What?” You respond furrowing your brows in confusion “are they not nice to you?” A concerned look shoots through your face turning to face Spencer once again, this time his gaze meets yours simultaneously.

Spencer’s face reads confused as well, why were you confused? You’d been at high school for almost 4 years at this point, you’d had to be stupid to not realise the social ladder that your peers had created to make people like Spencer feel inferior.

“Are you kidding?” He responds, same confused look painted across his face “they’re not nice to anyone but themselves, you’d have to be blind not to see it” convinced you were playing some sort of game, he doesn’t show any sort of affection in response, but he knew you weren’t stupid.

You both sit in silence for a minute before you muster up a response, you weren’t stupid, you knew your friends weren’t the nicest to everyone but you convinced yourself that if you never indulged it didn’t count, you were never mean to anyone so you never felt as if you had their words on your conscious.

Selfishly because they were never mean to anyone you really cared about, you thought.

“Am I mean to you?” You questioned quickly, searching his face for a reaction, it only twisted in question before he responded.

“I don’t think so” he whispers softly which you barely register over the music.

You knew you were, not outright mean but mean by association, you never stopped their comments about passing by students, you usually never indulged but you were just as mean for letting them go so nonchalantly, cause although not about Spencer, they were about somebody’s Spencer.

It’s almost like you could feel Spencer’s heart beating yourself, the view of the 3 storey modern shaped grey and white home was enough to make Spencer’s heart beat spike while he watched people run in and out of the house, people he knew, people he had classes with.

You couldn’t help yourself but reach over to grab Spencer’s cool hand “you’ll be fine” you nodded giving it a squeeze before letting go to unbuckle your seatbelt.

His heart did something other than beat profusely, it tightened as you dropped his hand, and he hated it.

Trailing behind you like a lost puppy he took a moment to examine his surroundings, he recognised almost every person stumbling in and out of the house from classes or kids he tutored.

Almost instantly, you were embraced by a wave of girls who he had recognised as your cheer friends, laughing and giggling while they squealed about your outfit and hair, he stood behind you feeling like he was made from glass being absolutely ignored by anyone in his vicinity.

He stood staring at the tops of his laces for a moment, the sounds of loud music and chatter filling his ears as he waited for you to turn your attention to him instead.

“Ready?” You chirp as your friends wondered off in different directions, you told them not to wait up, and frankly they were much too indulged in themselves to even register the 6 foot boy hiding behind you like a child.

The last time you had asked if he was ready, you sent your shoe straight to his ankle so he shot a confused look in your direction.

Noticing his concern you chuckle before grabbing his hand to drag him through the sea of drunken teenagers.

He looked down at your hand, your cool rings flush against his own, his eyes widened a little when he felt his heart beat a little faster at the contact, and god he couldn’t stand it.

Eventually you dragged him to the kitchen where only two people had occupied, you dropped his hand behind you to embrace the girl sitting on top of the kitchen island, Spencer recognised her, you and Gianna had been friends since the first day of high school, and she was the only one of your friends Spencer could stand.

“Oh hi Spencer!” She smiled after breaking from your hug, she took a swig of her cup before taking a chance to scan over his outfit “not to be mean or anything, but did you get invit-” although she asked innocently you slapped her in the arm before she could continue.

“I have a love story to witness” smiling you nudge Spencer in the shoulder a little only earning his cheeks to turn pink as he looked down at his shoes a little longer “Sadie Keller has a big fat crush on him and so does he” you laugh making your way over to the fridge to pull out a bottle of water, Spencer only nervously laughed at your words.

“Sadie Keller?” Gianna questions tilting her head a little earning a shy nod from Spencer “oh! are you her tutor?” She points at Spencer grinning a little.

“Um..” he mumbled turning to face you “yeah”

“God, she doesn’t stop yapping about you” giggling she takes another sip from her cup, she turns around for a moment scanning through the crowd “Sadie!” She yelled flailing her arm to grab her attention.

Almost frantically he turns to you who looked more than entertained seeing how embarrassed he got, you both look up at the sea of people watching as Sadie’s cherry red hair gets closer and closer pushing through the crowd of teenagers.

Spencer jumps a little at the grasp of your hand again, smiling up at him for a second giving his cold hand a squeeze “good luck Spence” you nod before you beckon Gianna from the kitchen island to leave spencer to fend for himself.

Spencer’s eyes follow you as you walk to the direction of the pool arm in arm with Gianna, before snapping to the pretty girl in front of him.

Your heart tightens just a little as you leave him there, furrowing eyebrows as you notice the feeling, the same feeling you had in seventh grade when he got partnered up with Ava Milligan instead of you.

The sounds of the thumping music fades out at you both walk to the pool outside taking a seat on the edge, it was typical for you and Gianna to sit at the pool together at parties, she was the only person that agreed the party scene wasn’t her favourite, you both were homebodies, but high school hustle made not attending parties sound like social suicide.

Giggling as you slipped your boots and socks off to dip your feet in the cool pool you both sit for a little leaning on each other in a comfortable silence in each others company.

You can’t help but glance through the glass doors into the kitchen, and feel the way your heart thumps at the view of Spencer and Sadie sitting on the kitchen island giggling at god knows what.

What could they possibly be laughing about? what could she have possibly said to make him laugh?

“Okay spill” Gianna mutters, snapping you from your Spencer induced trance, you only shoot her a confused look back “You show up at a party with the boy you’ve been in love with for like forever, I know something’s going on in that pretty little head” she chuckles nudging you a little, causing you to laugh in response.

“I’m not in love with him” you mumble back turning your attention to your feet swaying in the cool water, she raises an eyebrow, obviously not believing a word coming from your mouth.

“Okay, you keep thinking that” she smiles slinging her arm over your shoulder while your heads lean together gazing at the blue water “I just didn’t think you’d pass him off so easily… you know he looks at you the same way you look at him, deny it all you want” she whispers, only the faint sounds of the party and the small water splashing occupying your ears.

You knew she was right, god you were in love with Spencer Reid no matter how much you wanted to deny it, that’s why you kept his stupid photo on your bedside table, and why you made cupcakes every thanksgiving, and why him completely shutting you out hurt so much.

Giannas head lifts from your shoulder at the sound of the glass door snapping shut, your eyes raise to meet Spencer standing there smiling a little at you “my queue to leave” Gianna laughs before leaving a kiss on the top of your head before hopping up from the pool edge grabbing her shoes in one hand nodding at Spencer as they brushed past each other, she turns around to mouth a quick ‘good luck’ before returning to the commotion of the party.

“How’d it go” you beam as he made his way down to sit next to you criss cross at the pool.

“Good… I think but she asked me to go ice skating” he mumbles furrowing his brows a little.

“That’s great!” You foreign excitement reaching to grab his shoulder “why do you look so sad about it?”

“God..” he groans reaching to rub his face with his hands “I can’t ice skate”

You giggle a little at his despair “sure you can… we went together in sixth grade remember?”

“I broke my arm that day”

“Oh” you respond, memories flashing through your head “you did didn’t you, you had that cute little cast I used to draw hearts over” giggling at the memory you continue to swish your feet in the water.

There was that feeling again, his heart thumping a little louder than before, it was like anytime you said something about him that he was sure you wouldn’t remember, his heart skipped a beat, and he could feel his palms get warmer.

“I’ll teach you” you smile pulling him from his thoughts “I don’t think Sadie will want to drive you to the ER for another broken arm” you chuckle bringing your lip up to your teeth for a moment.

“Think of it as a practice date”

“A practice date it is” he chuckles smiling back at you, you both meet each others gaze for a moment, you felt a pit grow in the bottom of your stomach as you both sit in silence searching in each others eyes.

You never could admit it, but he was still the boy you fell in love with in fifth grade, and you were still the girl in love with him.

PART THREE

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lady-exophiliac-musings · 4 months

Text

Mr. X

The hardest part of being a monsterfucker, as it turns out, is when you're in a situation in which you want to fuck the monster, but the monster was sent to kill you.

The large, tyrannical, immensely powerful being chasing you at a constant power-walk was drool-worthy, but he'd also taken multiple swings at you, given his orders and all. You've been forced to run at the merest glimpse of him for over an hour, when all you really want to do is shove him down on his back, climb on his dick, and ride him until sunrise.

It put you in the rather annoying position of being wet as hell even as you ran from him.

Lucky for you, it was easy to lose him, and from certain vantage points you got to see exactly how his mind ticked when he didn't have a target to follow.

His intelligence left a lot to be desired, to put it mildly. Without a target, he was reduced to checking in doors and windows, sometimes walking in circles until he could make a decision. And his object permanence was non-existent too, from how he stopped dead whenever he lost sight of whatever it was he was chasing. You can almost see him rebooting whenever it happened.

Which meant, after an hour of this, you were confident you could find a place to hide for a few minutes to rub one out and release this pressure that had built up inside you.

There was no way he'd find you before you were done, and you found him so god-damned attractive it'd left you blue-balled. You needed release.

Damn that sexy trenchcoat-wearing wall of mutant muscle.

By a stroke of luck, you find yourself in a hotel full of rooms in which you can relax on an actual bed to get this done. So you pick one, divest yourself of your bottoms, and lay out on your back to finish yourself off.

You close your eyes, envisioning that sexy beast, and bite your lip as you begin stroking yourself the way you like. Your walls quiver, wanting to be filled, as you work yourself, the pleasure you feel as you finally begin assuaging this pressure a thing of wonder.

It has you shivering and quaking in no time, a clear testament to just how badly that monster of a man had aroused you just by existing where you can't touch him.

What you were unaware of, as you touch yourself, is the fact that you hadn't fully closed the door to this room, and you didn't notice you'd attracted a voyeur.

The object of your masturbatory fantasies was right outside the room, able to see you legs-splayed on the bed as you play with yourself. He nudges the door slightly more open for a better look, his brain jamming with conflicting information.

He'd been ordered to eliminate all "threats", but right then you don't look threatening. You look... something, and it evokes a certain, unfamiliar kind of heat in him as he watches you. It even stirs a particular rhythmic, pulsing movement in his groin, trapped as it is in his trousers.

He struggles to comprehend what's happening as he looks between your rapidly-moving fingers and his own growing erection, attempting to process the surprising desire sparking in him. Eventually he gets the bright idea to tug open his pants to relieve the pressure on his dick, and he cants his head at how thick and hard it'd become.

It doesn't take him long to establish a direct connection between his erection and your open legs. Every time he looks at you, at your parted thighs and beckoning juncture, his cock surges with more blood, more need.

There's not a lot going on in his head, to put it gently, so when he gets even a vague indication of a direction, he follows it. And, after a few minutes of watching you, it clicks in his mind that his cock wants to be inside that wet, glistening opening between your legs.

He strides over to you, then, phallus exposed and so hard it's at an upwards angle. You still don't notice until you suddenly recognize his footfalls approaching you.

You jolt at the sound, terror piercing you at your vulnerable position (alongside a pulse of arousal you could never smother), and you start to scramble up to run -- only for him to catch your knee, tugging you towards the foot of the bed where he now stands.

It takes you a whole second to recognize that he's standing there with a raging hard-on and then another few seconds to make the connection.

Holy shit, had he really come here to fuck you -- fulfilling your raunchiest dreams in the process?

Evidently so, because he starts examining your entrance with his fingers, gently pulling on your skin to open it up to his viewing pleasure.

Your heart skips a beat. But, wet as you are, you really don't think it's a good idea to take a cock his size (not monstrously big for his size, but he himself is monstrously big, so it's still the heftiest thing you've ever had this close to your cunt) without some prep first.

You gesture and ask for patience, scooching closer to sit at the edge of the bed instead. He cants his head at you in total confusion, even as you bring your hands and mouth to his cock and begin wetting it for yourself.

His face remains impassive the entire time you're sucking him off, all the while analyzing his flavor and struggling with your own disbelief at the situation.

This dangerous bastard who'd obviously been trying to kill you earlier now wants to fuck you, is that it? Well, far be it from you to look a gift horse in the cock, and you're fairly certain that you can maybe get away from him after fucking him silly if he suddenly turns homicidal afterwards.

He's hard as actual stone as you work him, and his cock pulses with pleasure the entire time. It's almost funny; the pulses are so strong it physically moves your head each time--

Suddenly he makes a gruff noise and hot cum floods into your mouth, forcing you to release him. You're a little too stunned by the quick orgasm to even move aside as he keeps pumping lance after lance of cum on you, your hands working him as you gaze up at him in a mixture of disbelief and disappointment.

Was that it?!

You'd barely been sucking him for a minute, and now he was painting everything from your hair to your tits in lances of his thick, hot cum. You felt like a glazed donut.

But, to your surprise and delight, he wasn't done. He came, but he was still hard, and you think maybe the hard lines of his face had softened slightly from it.

Before you can say or do anything else, he pushes you back and tugs your legs open for him again. You bluster and stutter as he starts trying to line his cock up to your twat, urging him to go slow for you and taking over the task of getting the head in place.

You'd be lying if you tried to say you weren't already seconds from your own orgasm just anticipating this, your walls quivering with desire for this beast.

It was such a quick transition from him cumming to him trying to enter you that you can feel the heat of his semen on your skin as the head prods your lower lips (not to mention the flood of it on your head and chest), and it makes you shiver.

You almost climax as the head catches on your opening and slips inside, forcing your walls open for the rest of him. Then he begins thrusting, aiming for depth, and there's little you can do to dissuade him; you can't reach his hips with your hands to slow him and he has your legs by the knees, keeping you wide open for him.

But he listens and obeys well, you discover as you breathlessly direct him to be slower and gentler. He's so big and your walls so untrained for something his size that it's a struggle to accept him, and you find yourself airily gasping commands.

He strains you, and yet the pleasure you feel as he gains depth is out of this world. It feels like your walls are threatening to tear with every thrust he gives you, yet the combined pleasure of him slipping in and out of your gushing walls and the sheer knowledge of what's fucking you has your head spinning with ecstasy.

You cum before he's even halfway buried inside you, quivering and moaning on the bed. Your walls spasm and squeeze him inside you as your entire body is flooded with pleasure, basking in how damned good it feels.

Your body rocks with his thrusts for a moment as he keeps going through your orgasm -- then pauses with his own low groan, his cock giving its own pulses inside you. Your own pleasure only spikes higher every time that cock shifts inside you, heat pouring into you, and you realize with another beat of disbelief that he's cumming again.

Inside you.

Holy Hell, your orgasm triggered a second one for him!

That pulls a louder, lewder moan out of you and you wriggle your hips, suddenly wanting him even deeper. He's almost at your cervix already with half his shaft still outside of you, but you want all of him in you, as deep as he can reach.

A glimmer of hope reaches you as you come down from your high, recalling how he came all over your face and remained hard; surely him cumming inside you will have the same results? You don't want this to end yet.

You don't want this to end ever.

To your delight, he seems to have the same idea. It only takes him a moment of his own basking before he begins thrusting again, going at the same speed as before.

Now, though... now you want more. Your walls are more relaxed and wetter than ever thanks to your combined orgasms, so you spur him on with demands of deeper and harder and faster.

You were ready for the beast, now.

He obeys, again, his head canting as he watches you from above. He releases your knees to lean over you on his hands, his hips pumping you in accordance with your demands.

It doesn't take him but a few thrusts to hit your cervix.

And then he keeps going.

Your cunt stretches for him above and beyond what you'd ever thought it could, accepting every thrust of hard-as-iron member. It's so thick -- and, soon, so deep -- that it steals your breath, making you fall totally slack underneath him.

Your eyes roll back and your mouth salivates. You can hear nothing except the creak of the bed, the rustle of his leathers, and your own wheezing moans. You can feel nothing except the rocking of your body, the stretch of your belly, and the raw, overwhelming pleasure that spikes from your cunt to every inch of you with each thrust into you.

Mr. X isn't a romantic lover. He doesn't know what he's doing. He can only obey orders, and right now, you're the only source of them. But he's obviously enjoying himself, his hot cum inside you squelching with his movements and easing his way to full depth inside you.

You keep giving breathless commands as he goes, and soon your desires result in him jackhammering you to a degree you've never had before. You can't even be sure, as he's going at it, that you can survive it, but you're loving how fast and hard he's taking you.

You climax again in short order, once he's up to speed -- which is unfortunate, because the flood of overwhelming pleasure in you renders you unable to move or breathe, let alone speak, and his relentless fucking is entirely too much for you mid-orgasm.

You seize up from your orgasm, spasming, all your muscles clenching and contracting intermittently. Your walls attempt to strangle his pistoning cock, simultaneously trying to force it out of you for a reprieve and pull it wholly inside you and keep it there while you cum on it.

You shatter for him, all of your senses whiting out for a beat. Your ears start ringing, your heart thundering away in your ribs, heat flooding every inch of you from the onslaught of pleasure -- and still he keeps pumping you, keeps fucking you.

You need it to stop, one way or the other, but you can't articulate your need in the midst of your climax.

When your breath finally escapes your burning lungs, it's at a deep, heavy moan the likes of which you've never heard come out of your own throat. Your body is quaking everywhere from the force of your climax and the hard pounding you're receiving, and your walls haven't stopped trying to clamp down on the cock ruining it.

Your first attempts at begging him to stop and give you a moment are fumbling mocks of words, your tongue unable to work right just yet. Your hands clumsily swat at his arms, instinctively trying to find something to grip onto so you can physically stop him.

He does -- finally. He stops, and as your spinning mind slowly begins to settle, you realize why.

You have no idea when this started, but his cock is pulsing inside you again, his heat surging into you in quick, hard jets. You find yourself gasping in time with each one, your mind frantically analyzing his orgasm to ultimately conclude that this started at some point during your orgasm.

It just lasted all the way through it until now, and you recognize the pulses are steadily slowing to nothing.

In a daze, you look down at yourself -- and your jaw would've dropped open, were it not already slack from your intense climax.

You're a mess. Your belly is stretched around him and has obviously been further rounded by the amount of cum he's pumped into you, but your thighs and pelvis are also splattered with it. His clothes also bear lashes of it from your hard fucking, glossy webs of thick cum branching out from around where his cock parted them.

You wheeze a curse, flopping back on the bed, and find yourself staring up at him. Suddenly a shot of panic hits you, recalling that this monster had very much intended to kill you earlier -- but the panic fades as you start to recognize the look on his face.

It's faint, but he looks more curious than anything.

You swallow past the dryness in your throat and murmur, "Truce?"

#nsft #exophilia #spicy #written #naughty #text #imagine #fantasy #mr x #mr x resident evil #smut #smut what plot #tyrant #resident evil #i just wanted to fuck the big man

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cosmicmunsonwrites · 11 months

Text

for the first time pt 2

pairing(s): bf!jj maybank x gf!fem!virgin!reader

warnings: oral (m) receiving, pet names, praise kink, slapping, gagging, head pushing, almost face fucking, porn without plot, super short, also kinda poorly written

summary: after starting to dive into new things, you decide you want to repay your boyfriend for what he did for you.

authors note: hi guys theres one more after this which should be a lot better :)

part one | part two | part three

not edited

do not copy my works. i do not condone rewrites, translations, or edited versions. all my content is my content that i wrote.

not my gif

“i don’t want you to feel like you gotta repay me for that though,” jj said, looking up at you with his hands on your waist.

you shook your head. “i don’t feel like that. i just wanna make you feel how good you made me feel.”

“fuck sweetheart,” he groaned. “you can’t say shit like that.”

you smiled and leaned back down to kiss him. his hands squeezed at your hips and rocked you back and forth while yours cradled his jaw. you moaned softly into his mouth at the friction your shorts were creating.

he pulled away and kissed down your jawline to your exposed chest. his hands ran up your side to rest at the bottom of your ribcage while his lips locked onto your right breast. he licked and sucked at your nipple, placing gentle kisses around it and even leaving some hickeys for you to look back at later.

when he was satisfied with his work, he moved to the other and repeated the same. you slowly worked up the courage to roll your hips without his assistance, making him buck up into you with a grunt. “fuckin’ hell,” he mumbled against your skin.

“please j? lemme make you feel good,” you begged, returning to your previous topic. “please?” you pouted and looked down at him with that look he’d never been able to say no to. “you can teach me everything and i’ll do whatever you want.”

he left a few extra kisses on your breasts before looking up at you. “have i ever told you how much i love your tits?”

you glared at him. “jj.”

“alright, alright,” he caved. “promise me you’re not doing this to repay me.”

you kissed his lips. “promise.” you began kissing down his neck and chest, leaving a few hickeys for him to flaunt whenever he’s shirtless like he always does. your lips moved down his bare chest until you were crawling off his lap and onto the floor into the space between his legs.

the bulge underneath his sweatpants was very obvious. it almost looked painful. your fingers looped into the waistband and with jj’s help, you pulled them down to his ankles where he eventually kicked them off.

“what do i do now?” you asked cluelessly.

he smiled down at you. “take the rest off.”

you awkwardly shimmied down his boxers, grateful that he had lifted sat up enough for you to do it. you gulped nervously when his cock sprung out from its confinement and hit his lower stomach.

you’d never been this intimate with anyone. you’d never touched a guy, or even seen one past being shirtless. jj was your first everything. and you wouldn’t want it any other way.

you looked up at him for further instructions. “spit in your hand,” he said.

looking at him with wide eyes, you paused for a moment before bringing your hand up your lips and spitting into it.

“you can touch me, sweetheart,” he said softly. “just do whatever feels right.”

you paused for a quick second before deciding to proceed. your hand gently wrapped around him as you watched your boyfriends eyes shut and his lips part. you slowly began to run your hand up and down the length of him, still watching his reaction.

“fuck, baby,” he groaned, tipping his head back. “just like that.” his praise gave you the small confidence boost, starting to move your hand faster against him. “shit,” he cursed under his breath.

you smiled to yourself, proud that you were starting to make him feel good like he’d done for you. you leaned forward and lightly ran your tongue up his length to test the water.

when his hips bucked up and he moaned out, you did it again. you began to twist your hand up and down his cock as your tongue licked over the head. “fuck. doin’ so good,” he praised, eyes still shut and lips parted as moans slipped past them. “so good, pretty girl.”

wanting to try something different, you took the tip into your mouth and gently sucked on it. he thrusted up into your mouth, biting his lip to contain his noises of pleasure. “shit, ‘m sorry sweetheart. jus’ felt good,” he apologized.

so you did it again, only taking in more as your hand worked the rest. you bobbed your head slowly as you started to become lightheaded. you released him from your mouth to work your hand over him as you caught your breath.

“here, baby. squeeze a little harder,” he instructed, closing your hand around him just a little tighter. “i like a little more pressure.”

you followed his order, your hand tightening and working around him a little faster before your mouth was back on him. he placed his hands on the bed by his hips and tipped his head back as he moaned and squeezed his eyes shut.

you placed your hands on his spread thighs and decided to give your wrist a break once it started aching. your mouth took him in again and you began to bob your head up and down a little faster than previously.

his hand came to rest on the back of your head as he pushed you forward until you gagged. you immediately pulled off of him and came back for air, coughing as you did so. “oh fuck, ‘m sorry, baby. i couldn’t help it,” he laughed before leaning down to kiss your forehead gently. “is it okay if i give you a little push?”

you nodded, eyes drooping slightly. your mouth wrapped around him again as you sucked on the tip, making him moan even louder. his hand ran over your cheek and down to cradle your jaw. “look so pretty like this, sweet girl. sucking my cock like a good girl.”

your thighs squeezed together at his raspy voice and praise. you took him deeper into your mouth, throat tightening around him as you fought the urge to gag. he held your head in place, cursing under his breath. “‘s okay, you’re okay, baby. just relax. breathe through your nose,” he instructed.

you relaxed against him took a deep breath through your nose, closing your eyes letting him thrust his hips up into your mouth. you were beginning to like this feeling. the feeling of him using you.

you moaned around him, making his hips stutter as he groaned and loosened up his tight hold to let you come up for a breather. “you’re doin’ so good. such a pretty fuckin’ mouth,” he mumbled.

your hand wrapped around him again as you began to move it up and down, twisting and squeezing a little more for added pleasure. “fuck, holy shit. ‘m so close, baby. so fuckin’ close.”

you wrapped your lips around his tip again, sucking a little harder as his hips bucked up into your hand and mouth. “oh fuck,” he moaned. “fucking shit. ‘m gonna come, sweetheart.” you bobbed your head up and down his cock a little faster, trying to give him the best experience you could.

he held your head down as he came into the warmth of your mouth, hips stuttering as strings of moans slipped past his lips. he gasped and tipped his head back as he emptied his come into your mouth.

“holy fuck, baby,” he cursed as he let you go. “you can spit it out if you want.”

you wanted to make him this experience as good as he made yours. so you swallowed it down, eyelids heavy as you looked up to him.

he shut his eyes and groaned at the sight. “you did so good today, pretty baby. ‘m so proud of you.” his hand found your jaw again and tilted your head up so he could lean down and kiss your lips. he grabbed your hands and gently pulled you back up into his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist and leaning his head onto your chest. you gasped when his cock rubbed against your clothed cunt.

“you look so pretty on your knees for me.”

#gracie writes jj maybank 🌸#jj maybank imagines #jj obx #jj maybank obx #jj maybank x you #jj maybank fluff #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank fic #jj maybank virgin smut #jj maybank fanfic #jj maybank x reader #jj mayback imagine #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank smut #jj maybank blurb #jj maybank angst

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cameronspecial · 4 months

Text

Assisting In Deception (Part 8)

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Sexual Jokes and Unprotected Sex

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 3.6K

Summary: Ward's suggestion to Rafe makes him realize that he wants more with Y/N, but maybe she doesn't think the same.

Masterlist

Dax tries to run toward another dog, which causes Y/N to overextend her hand so he doesn’t choke on his collar. “Dax, heel,” Rafe orders, pointing a disapproving finger at the dog. Dax instantly obeys his father, pausing so she can catch up. He turns towards her and begs for her petting. His pants fill the air in delight. “I’m pretty sure he likes you more than he likes me. It’s not fair,” Rafe objects, wrapping his arms around her waist. “He’s taking all your attention. I want it all.” Y/N leans back into his touch. She presses her lips to his cheek, “I’ll tell you a secret, I like him more than you. But only a little bit. You’re lucky you are so good with your tongue, it moves you up the list higher.”

“Oh, is that really all I’m good at?”

“No, you’re also pretty good at guessing what I want to eat. So good at that.”

“Well, I’m glad I can satisfy both your hungers.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Dax’s impatience pulls the couple away from each other and the walk continues. After a few minutes of walking, Rafe stops at a bench to sit down. “I have something for you,” he announces, pulling something out of his pocket. It’s a small slim box that she knows is a jewelry box. Guilt fills her because whatever is in that box is going to be extravagant and expensive and all she’ll ever be able to offer him is a four-dollar pizza slice. She starts shaking her head, “Boss, whatever that is. I can’t accept it.” “Nonsense, I got it for you. I thought you’d like it,” he insists, waiting for her to open the box. After a small argument about her not being able to take the gift and him saying she can, she finally does. In it lays a teardrop-shaped necklace with a diamond at the bottom of it. It’s simple and not too flashy, so it’s perfect for her. “I love it, Boss,” she turns to him to give him a hug. His lips find her temple, “Perfect. I’m glad you do. Just a little thank you for keeping up with my annoying ass.”

“You’re not that annoying. I promise.”

He laughs at her joke, motioning for her to turn so he can help her put it on. The necklace rounds her neck and lays beautifully between her collarbone.

——

Rafe and Y/N sit on the couch comfortably. His arm is wrapped around her shoulder and she playing with the rings on his fingers. The ginger and cloves waft through the kitchen and into the living room. The smell brings hunger to her stomach. “Aunt Y/N’s boyfriend, can you play horsey with me?” Amber begs Rafe with the biggest puppy dog eyes. He looks at Y/N to ask if she is okay with that and she gives a slight nod. Rafe gets up from the couch, “Of course, I can little cowgirl.” Amber’s smile lights up the room, tugging him to the middle of the living room. He gets onto all fours and lets the girl get on his back.

Y/N watches Rafe pretend to be a horse with fake neighs and all. “Amber, come on, sweetie. It’s time for dinner. Nana made the chicken you like,” George tells her. The little girl gets off of his back and thanks him for playing with her before running off into the kitchen with her father. Upon hearing that dinner is ready, Y/N gets up to go eat but is stopped by Rafe, who is getting up from the floor. “I’ll get our food. Don’t worry about it,” he promises, going to the kitchen to do as he said he would.

Nancy is already in line waiting for food when he enters the kitchen. She takes note of him being alone and double takes, “I’m surprised my sister isn’t trailing behind you like puppy dog towards the food. She loves Nana’s cooking.” “I told her I’d get her food. She looked comfortable on the couch. So what are the must-haves that I need to get for your sister?” he asks looking at the wide range of food Nate’s mother made for the family gathering. Nancy looks at everything, pointing at a few dishes, “She’d get the shepherd's pie, smoked salmon and the honey-glazed carrot and parsnips.” Rafe nods scooping up everything she told him to. “And I’ll get a little bit of everything else for myself in case Y/N wants to have a little bit of something else,” he thinks out loud.

“Wow, Aunty Y/N. Your necklace is really pwetty,” Felicity awes from Y/N’s lap, playing with the necklace. Y/N smiles down at her niece, “Thank you, baby. Rafe gave it to me.” “You are lucky to have such a good boyfwiend. My boyfwiend only gives me leaves,” the toddler pouts. Her aunt giggles at her words, “You’re a little young for a boyfriend, don’t you think? And, plus, your boyfriend doesn’t have the money to pay for big gifts, baby.” The girl makes a face of understanding and she lights up when she sees Rafe enter the living room.

He smiles at the scene in front of him, “For my Butterfly, an amazing feast of her grandmother’s cooking.” He hands the plate to Y/N and settles back beside her on the couch to eat his own food. Felicity eyes his plate with much interest. He goes to put some boxty into his mouth when her tiny hand grabs his hand and brings his fork near her mouth. She waits for his approval and then places the utensil completely into her mouth. As he takes turns with Felicity eating the food from his plate, he feels like he fits in with her family. Delilah enters the living room looking for her daughter and is surprised to see her eating already. “There you are, Feli,” Delilah states, heading over to Felicity. “I can’t believe you are actually eating. Normally, it takes forever to get you to eat something.” She looks up at her mother, “Wafey is feeding me, Mommy. He is nice. I like him. He is a good boyfwiend to Aunty Y/N.”

She raises her arms for her mother to pick her up, which she does. “He is very nice, Feli. But next time, maybe don’t eat someone else’s food,” she turns towards Rafe. “Thank you for feeding her. I’m sorry she ate your food.” He gives her a kind smile, “You’re welcome. And it’s okay. I’m more than glad to share my food if it helps you out with getting her fed. There is lots of food anyways.” “Right. Thanks again. Maybe it can be practice for when you and Y/N/N have a kid,” she teases, walking away to the dining room. Rafe’s cheeks turn red and Y/N’s hand flies to her hair at the mention of them having children. “I’m going to use the bathroom,” she informs him. He watches as she walks off and Phoebe takes her daughter’s place on the couch.

“It’s nice to see that you are fitting right in with the Campbell clan,” she notes, looking at him with a grin. He turns toward her with adoration in his eyes, “Yeah, everyone here is so great.”

“They are. I was so nervous about them meeting Y/N and me when I first started dating Nate, but they welcomed us with open arms and that’s how I knew I was dating the right man. I gotta say, I’m glad Y/N has you. She grew up thinking that love wasn’t real because of what happened between her biological dad and me. I always tried to tell her that love can be messy but also amazing, but she never listened. Seeing her with you though. It gives me hope that she finally realized that.”

Nancy’s calls cut their conversation short. Rafe sits back on the couch and thinks about what Phoebe said. He knew that she hadn’t been in any relationship since she started working for him; however, he always assumed it was because of her busy work schedule. He doesn’t know she doesn’t have faith in love. The failure of her biological parents’ love is the reason for her not being able to commit to someone else. He wonders if their fake relationship could really cause her to change her mind. He wonders if they ever got into a real relationship, could he make her see how wonderful being in love is.

——

Ward and Rafe try to have at least a monthly meal together just the two of them. It started when Rafe’s sisters were born so that Ward could make sure that Rafe still knew how much he loved him even though his time had to be spent looking after the new babies. The tradition lives on to this day. “You and Y/N seem to be going on steady. It’s been what? Ten months now,” Ward comments, pouring them both a glass of whiskey. Rafe nods, “Yeah, it’s going great. We spend most of our nights at each other's houses.” “That’s good. I’m glad you are happy with her. Even more glad that it is good for the business,” Ward pauses. “Have you ever thought about proposing?”

The whiskey in Rafe’s throat exits his mouth with a cough. He brings a hand to wipe the liquid dripping down his chin. “N-n-no. It’s a little too soon for marriage. Don’t you think?” he stutters with wide eyes. Ward lets out a little chuckle, “Maybe, but I see how you look at her. I’ve seen the pictures. You guys are meant to be.”

The words Ward just said really do hit home for Rafe. He knew what his dad was referring to and he knew that he had completely fallen head over heels for Y/N Y/L/N. He just isn’t sure how to tell her. The way her hands need to fidget with her hair when she is flustered or nervous. How she gets very excited about food. Her love for her family and Dax. It all made her completely irresistible to him and he wishes what they have wasn’t all just an act.

——

The thought of marrying Y/N has Rafe stirred up and he needs to see her right away. She hears the need in his voice over the phone, promising to come as fast as possible. He waits for her in his room with his unbuttoned. The sound of her heels on his hardwood floor and the smell of her strawberry shampoo excites him to no end. His already hard cock aches to be within her touch. A female figure appears in the doorway and he smirks at the sight. “Hey there, Boss. I hear you need some assistance with something,” she says in a sultry tone. He loves this roleplay even if it is literally just using their job titles in a sexual way. His look is filled with passion, “I do. I have a lot of work for you, Ms. Y/L/N. You’ll probably have to work overtime.”

She steps out of the shadows and he drinks in her outfit. Her tiny pencil skirt barely covers the lace of her blue panties. She knows he loves this blue set because he is obsessed with the idea of her wearing clothes that compliment his eyes. Her white button-up shirt doesn’t hide the matching bra and based on how oversized it is, he knows the shirt is one he left at her house. “I’m prepared to do whatever you need, sir. I am here to please you,” she whispers, crawling towards him on the bed so that her cherry-red lips press against the shell of his ear. Her lips move to his and her hand finds its way down to his bulge.

She starts to palm his dick, slipping her tongue into his mouth. Soon, their lips part and she kisses her way down to his v-line. Her breath hitting his skin down there causes goose bumps to make their way up his arms. She unbuckles his belt and pulls down the clothes blocking her from the one thing she needs most right now. Her tongue draws a line to the base of his shaft, so she can kiss her way up it to his tip. Her lipstick stains his penis and he wants to capture this moment forever. She places a tiny kiss on the tip, where precum is already seeping out, before taking him entirely in her mouth. He bucks his hips into her and she begins to gag on him. The sounds she makes cause him to groan. The air in her lungs needs to be refilled, so she draws back for a second. A line of saliva connects the bottom of her lip to his tip and this arouses her.

She uses one hand to pump whatever her mouth can’t fit comfortably and her other hand tries to make its way down to her burning core, but his hand slaps it away. “Your job is to work for me. Not yourself,” he tuts, locking his hand around hers so it couldn’t go back. She speeds up her movement on his cock and its twitch lets her know he is about to cum. The bobs of her head don’t stop. His head throws back against his pillow as he cums into her mouth. She swallows all of it, using her thumb to wipe the bottom of her lip to get rid of the escaped semen. He smiles down at him and brings her up by her chin. “I think it’s time to give you your bonus, Ms. Y/L/N,” he mutters in her ear. His hands find their way to her hips, pulling her so her pussy is hovering over his face. She hesitates about letting her full weight fall on him, but he puts no thought into pushing her hips down so she can feel his breath on her vagina.

His hand moves her underwear out of the way so he can attack her clit. The sudden feeling of his lips on her causes her to grip his headboard as support. Her breathy gasps make his dick raise to attention again. His tongue licks up her juices and enters her hole. He tries to eat up as much of her sweet taste as he can prior to sticking a previously wetten finger into her puffed pussy. They reconfigure their position so she is sitting against the headboard to make it easier for him to finger her. She moans out in pleasure as another finger finds its way into her. He curls his finger for him to find her sweet spot. “More. Please, Boss,” she whines with her eyes rolled to the back of her skull. His assault with his fingers continues until her climax falls over her. He works her through it with whispers of being a good girl when she notices he is hard again.

Rafe is going to take care of it himself when she stops him. She gives his shaft a couple of pumps, bringing his dick to her clothed vagina. He looks at her unsure, letting the game drop for a second, “Are you sure about this? I can take care of myself. We don’t have to do this.” The moment definitely overcomes her and she isn’t thinking straight, but she needs this. She wants to know what he feels like. She wants to pretend like this moment is real. That they are just a loving couple about to make love. She brings his lips to hers. “I want this, I promise. I’m clean and haven’t had sex with anyone unprotected for a year. Plus, I’m on the pill. But if you want to use a condom or don’t want this, then I completely understand.”

He shakes his head, “I need this too. I’m clean too, by the way.” His tone is so nervous that she finds it adorable. With the confirmation that they both want this, Rafe removes her skirt and underwear. He takes off his shirt and then rips the shirt that she is wearing open. The buttons pop off, flying everywhere. Her bra is the next one to come off.

His dick slaps her pussy a few times, in anticipation of him entering her. He penetrates her and her back arches in satisfaction. The ache he causes quickly fades away. Normally, both of them would enjoy a rougher and faster pace with their foreplay, but it doesn’t feel right to them at this moment. “You are doing so well, Butterfly,” he praises. His thrusts a slow and controlled, hitting every right spot inside of her. The kiss they share is one laced with longing for each other and quiet moans from both of them. His hand plays with her nipples for a little bit before going to rub her clitoris. The fast motion of his hand paired with his deep and steady force brings her close to the edge. He notices how her walls begin to grip his cock and he speeds up his movements just a little bit.

He breaks their kiss to whisper, “Cum for me. Show me how good I am making you feel.” Her moans increase and she wraps her legs around his waist to help her meet his hips. “You feel so good, Boss. Keep going, p-p-please,” she pleads. He obeys her please and doesn’t stop. He feels his release about to come, “I’m gonna cum. Where do you want it, Butterfly?” She brings him deeper into her with her legs, “Inside of me, please.” Their lips find their way together again while they both cum. She feels thick ropes of his semen shoot into her, warming her insides. They pant into each other’s faces for them to gain a little more energy.

He slips out of her and they go through their normal aftercare and bedtime routine. Once they finish, they return to his bed, wrapping themselves in an embrace. “How are you feeling?” he questions, giving her a kiss to the temple. She gives him a tired smile, “I feel great, thank you. It was amazing. How about you?”

“I think I can just about do anything. I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

She nuzzles her neck into his neck. The deep call of sleep lulls them both to a state of unconsciousness.

——

This isn’t the first time that Y/N wakes up wrapped in Rafe’s arms, but it is the first that she does so after they have sex. Looking at his peaceful figure usually fills her with delight, yet, this time, she feels a problem start to arise. The sex was mind-blowing. No doubt about it; however, she crossed the line she promised herself she wouldn’t. The sex also felt so real to her and that is dangerous. She starts to realize she can’t tell what is genuine or just for show anymore. She worries that when he finally realizes he doesn’t want her anymore, he will throw her away with her heart ripped out of her chest.

Her shields throw themselves back up again and she quietly removes herself from his hold. She puts her skirt and undergarment back on but finds the shirt she wore here destroyed. His closet calls to her and she fishes out a white t-shirt to put on. She is engulfed in his scent, which she can’t enjoy any longer without feeling guilty for what she is about to do.

She slips the shirt on and then gets her purse to leave. As she makes her way to the front door, Dax excitedly runs up to her for her attention. She gives him an apologetic smile and kisses him on the head, “I am so sorry, baby. I have to go. But you are such a good boy. I love you even when I am gone.” Tears escape her eyes as she leaves his house for the last time.

——

A guilt-ridden walk home and shower later, Y/N sits at the coffee shop table, drinking her coffee. She can’t believe she is actually considering getting a new job, but it was always the plan anyway. Being a personal assistant was only supposed to be a placeholder to give her time to figure out what she truly wanted to do. Her cup runs empty, so she gets up from her chair to get a refill. She isn’t watching where she is going, which causes her to smack into someone behind her. Hot liquid stains his shirt because of her accident. “I am so sorry. Let me get you another coffee and my number so you can text me the dry cleaning bill,” she apologizes profusely to the brunet. His chocolate brown eyes find her, “Don’t worry about it, seriously. I hate this shirt. But I wouldn’t mind getting that number so that I can text you the location of our first date.” He gives her a charming smile with the tilt of his head and she lets out a giggle.

“That’s bold. Don’t you think you should get my name first?”

“True. I’m Henry and what might I call you?”

“I’m Y/N and I would love to go on a date with you.”

They shake hands. She feels incredibly wrong about going on a date with Henry when Rafe is still in the equation, but she needs something that is real and Rafe doesn’t want that with her. Little does she know that is entirely not true.

Taglist: @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @aprilrudgate @loving-and-dreaming @thepatriarchykeychain @maybankslover @abbybarnesstuff @wh0reforbucknasty @spencereidbasis @drewsmusee @starkowswife @mskezza @h34rtsformilli @ijustwanttoreadlols @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you

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indouloureux · 2 years

Text

the freakshow

eddie munson x reader

summary: your heart dances on the edge of the knife when it comes to the infamous eddie munson. but the freak loves to play with knives at the freakshow, and he’s got you kneeling before him with his initials carved into your skin, bleeding down to his feet.

word count: 5, 962

warnings: Smut (MINORS DNI), usage of knives. graphic depictions of carving on to the skin. blood, violence, PROCEED WITH CAUTION. (explicit warnings below the cut)

a/n: another eddie smut. i was in the middle of writing a folklore one shot for mcu peter and i was eager to write this one. this includes knife play so please proceed with caution.

MASTERLIST

(follow @bloodstheink to get notified when i post)

explicit warnings: unprotected sex, oral (m and f receiving), knife play (carving names on their skin), creampie, lotus sex position, cockwarming, overstimulation, squirting, cum eating, blood sucking? (promise its not creepy), praise kink and degradation kink, dom/sub dynamics w dom!eddie, biting, tongue fucking, rough sex

Green, orange, red, white, black.

Freakish colors that juxtaposes the colors on your paper. You don’t know what you’re absentmindedly sketching, you hadn’t even realized your hands had begun constructing—

You tilt your head to the side, looking down and leaning closer.

— A cute little flower with green and orange petals, but apparently it also has red horns and a black tail right at the bottom of the strangely white stem.

Oh, and it looks like its dying.

The cafeteria is loud, you’ve barely touched your lunch, and your friends are talking loudly beside you. Very loudly, in fact, that you feel like your ears are going to explode and drip blood down to the side of your face. Agitated, you drop the pencils down the table, the clatter overwhelmed by vacuous parleys and childish shouting from food staining their clothes.

“Hey,” Chrissy Cunningham moves closer to you. Her hair’s no longer up in a tight ponytail, opted on a less compressed hairstyle that’s been giving her headaches lately. “You alright?”

You smooth your skirt with your palms, feeling the sweat transfer on the textile. “Yeah,” you swallow nothing. “It’s just really loud.”

“Need some fresh air?”

You’re about to answer her question, yes, you were going to say, yes, please, before I slam my head against this table. But the voice you’ve heard in so many timbres adjourns you, vocalizing loudly behind the cafeteria that it has you turning around.

Eddie’s got his feet on top of the table, walking over his friend’s lunches. He’s saying whatever; he’s saying things Eddie would say, because he is Eddie. He’s got his hands raised to balance himself on the decrepit tables, before he jumps off to scare a poor old teacher away.

That’s something Eddie would do.

And then he looks at you and suddenly you don’t want to slam your head against the table anymore, nor do your ears feel like they’re going to explode. Because you meet his eyes that are almost always on you – the same eyes that you can sense when he’s bored, or curious, or searching, or rapacious to tear the curtains between the audience and the freaks.

They’re also the same eyes that knows exactly who you are. They’ve got you memorized, every inch of your imperfectly pretty body, or what opens the faucet that leaks tears, or which performance made you smile the most; Wild eyes that memorized your labyrinthine self that anyone else couldn’t.

Your labyrinthine self, known only by Eddie – a rumored cult leader. He’s only the leader of Hellfire Club, anyway. But that does nothing to wipe the stain he’s put on his image, so if everyone else sees Eddie adding blemish to your reputation, or you to his, your picture might as well be burned to ashes.

He tells you it’ll spark havoc, that you’ll be seen in the same way as him. You try so hard to tell him you don’t care. However, keeping things secret is so dangerously fun – an impious part of you the public believes is vain proved covertly by Eddie was a knowledge that’s thrilling enough to keep to yourself.

You see Eddie’s throat bob, and he ever so subtly smiles at you, because you know damn well seeing the freak smile at one of the most precious cheerleaders of Hawkins would be the most controversial of them all (it’s exaggerated, you and Eddie both know, but teenagers exaggerate everything, even though he’s twenty).

He suddenly then falls forward to the ground, almost hitting a passerby. For a brief moment your eyes widen in surprise, but see that no one was there to trip him, mainly it being for show just for you. Your heart eases, smiles at the boy who’s taking imaginary dust off his shaggy hair.

“(y/n),” Chrissy ducks her head down, gaining your attention. You forgot what she’s said, cheeks burning in discomfiture. “Do you need some fresh air?” she repeats.

Unable to answer, you nod instead, because you smile when you see the grin on Eddie’s face as he goes back to sitting down with his friends, knowing he’s succeeded once more to put a smile on your face.

He takes your exit as a sign to take his, too. You walk away until you reach the forests across the fences, holding your skirt down your thighs from the fresh breeze. When you spot the same bench you and Eddie normally hang out in at free periods, you sit there with a heavy sigh.

You name the rustling behind you as Eddie. You raise your head to see him, leather jacket and a sleeveless denim to cover his contentious shirt. He smiles at you, practically tossing his black lunchbox on the wooden table.

“Well, hello there,” he says this in a way that he’s almost singing it. Eddie sits in front of you and places his elbows on the table before resting his chin between his palms. “What are you doing here?”

“Just getting some fresh air,” you mimic his position with a greeting smile. “It smells like barf and mixed soft drinks inside there.”

“What, you don’t like mixed sodas?”

“Haven’t tried it,”

He gasps, anthemic that he almost falls to the ground. “Really?” Eddie queries in disbelief, picking a lone lint off your hair. You try not to shiver at his simple act. “Are you that compliant that you don’t try out different sodas at the same time?”

You snort. “I’m not that docile.”

“How come you’ve never tried it then?” Eddie smushes his lips on his palm, bent awkwardly but he still manages to talk to you while looking scruffily charming.

Taking the jersey off your arms, you shrug. “No one took me out to try it yet.”

“Well you, m’lady,” Eddie opens his lunchbox, the cover clanging loudly on the wooden table before he takes out a pack of cigarettes. You make an excited sound, taking one from him, “are missing out.”

He lights the cigarette from you. The lighter he uses is the same one you bought for him after dropping it down the sewers one time, one where he’s surprisingly fine about even though he’s had it for years. “They’re just sodas, Eds. Not water. I won’t die if I don’t try them.”

“But you should,” he says after lighting his own. “They taste, I don’t know, funky? I can’t explain it. The aftertaste’s kinda shit, though, I’ll tell you that.”

Your lipstick stains the tipping paper, disparities the red wax brazenly. And while the smoke mingles with the air, you toy with the coffin nail nervously. Eddie, like earlier, senses your disquiet. He walks over to where you are before he wraps an arm around your shoulders, gently tugging you closer to him. You let him even though the possibility of being caught was now 73%.

“Something’s keeping you on edge since this morning,” he murmurs. He fights the urge to press a kiss on your hairline, instead occupies his twitching mouth with a cigarette. “I know you think I noticed at lunch, but we got morning classes together and I know when you’re nervous.”

“It’s nothing, Eds,”

“No it’s not,” he pushes your hair out of your face until he’s cupping the back of your head to look at him, stroking the skin behind your ear. “What is it, sweetheart, tell me?”

Yesterday’s expedition clouds your mind – in Eddie’s car, splayed out in the back with your hand gripping the back of your thighs as Eddie drives his cock in deeper, and even after cumming inside you he pushes his fingers in your sensitive hole and bullies your clit until you gush out on his shirt and his face and maybe even your own, without realizing that one of the Hawkins basketball players passed by.

“I think Patrick McKinney saw us yesterday,” you tell him. “He- I don’t know, Eddie. He passed by. I don’t think he saw us but I think he heard us? I mean, not that I care. It’s just that, I think maybe I care a little because he might have caught us having sex? He saw me naked and saw you naked and he might have seen the-the thing—”

“Hey,” he stops you by placing a hand over your mouth, laughing a little. “You gotta relax. My windows are tinted, babe. He didn’t see us, and if he heard us, he probably just assumed I was with another girl.”

The image of Eddie with someone else has you shifting uncomfortably between two feet, eventually scoffing and taking a hit. “If you think saying that is helping, Eddie—”

He laughs again, like music to your ears. “I’m sorry, babe,” Eddie kisses your temple, a mitigating action that shoves your worries away. “All I’m saying is that he didn’t catch us, okay? We’re fine.”

You pick on the loose thread of his shirt, twirling it around your finger. Then you pull it, a loud snap followed by shy silence. “‘s being a dungeon master give you senses?” you look up at him, resting your chin on his shoulder. Eddie’s hair tickles your nose, and you swear you smell a hint of your conditioner in there. “You always know when I’m upset.”

“Boyfriend senses, yeah, they’re my special senses,” he taps his temple, looking at you with a small smile. “They’re a must have. A really great superpower. Means I can make you smile whenever you need to.”

Pouting, you nestle your head on his chest. “Nah, I think you’re just stalking me. Always following me whenever I go, staring like a creep.”

Eddie’s freakishly warm. And albeit his veneer says otherwise, he smells decent, too – laundry detergent, cigarettes, and the smell of his club room that you can’t explain (you think it’s cardboard?). Your joke earns you a slight push, and a shy laugh, before you’re right back in his arms, tighter than before.

“Not my fault, you freak,” you simultaneously take a hit, something you try to hide your laugh about. Eddie teasingly blows it at your face. “Walking around with that short little skirt of yours—”

—The hand on your shoulder caresses your back until it starts tracing the waistline of your skirt. His finger draws back and forth, occasionally untucking your shirt until he feels your skin. Eddie’s stroking finger tickles, until it ultimately slips inside the garter of your skirt, teasing the waistband of your underwear.—

“—swaying your hips like you’re still dancing, knowing those prepubescent virgins and dirty boys are watching you,” Eddie whispers in your ear. “Knowing I’m watching you. And you just love teasing me, don’t you?”

You playfully bump your hip with his. “What are you talking about?”

“You know what I mean,” he takes both your cigarettes and throws it to the ground, stomping it impatiently before he’s got his hands around your waist, groveling beneath your shirt to palm your skin. “You don’t have to play coy, baby.”

Eddie kisses you, fervent and avidly. His hands roam everywhere, handsy with each caress, rings cold against your skin that you shiver beneath him as you run your hands up his unshorn hair, pushing his bangs away from his forehead. And while his tongue casually slips in between your open mouths, he cups your ass, quite roughly.

Gasping, you break away. “Eddie,” you chuckle nervously. “Someone could come! Lunch ends in five minutes.”

“Yeah, I know,” he steals a kiss, one or two, with heavy exhales and hands gentle on your cheeks. “But I know you hate your next class and so do I,”

“We share that class and you only hate it,” he can’t stop kissing you in between words. Eddie kisses the tip of your nose before going back to kiss your cheeks, and your neck, your jawline. “Eds, we’re going to miss class,”

He sucks on your neck, right on the slope between your jawline and shoulder. The urticate sensation renders you a whimper, before you feel his hot tongue caress the result of his ambush. “Then let’s skip it,” Eddie suggests, repeating each suckle on every part of your neck. “I got the keys to the room of the club. We can – we can go there and do whatever we want.”

Answer interrupted by a hungry kiss, you bite on his bottom lip, clawing desperately on his shirt. Eddie grunts, smiling against your swollen lips. “Anything?” you whisper. “Even – even if it’s dangerous?”

“You know I love doing anything dangerous, sweets,” he scrunches his nose at you. “Which is why I love doing you,”

In less than ten minutes were you both able to venture on to the Hellfire Club room. His feet were quick – fast enough to form you both invisible to wandering teachers. Eddie’s hand never left yours, a tight grip that tells you not to let go or else you’ll get caught. And that same, riveting sensation pounds through you – breaking the rules for the man who loved to break you. It’s wildly injudicious, but it fills your sybaritic grail.

Eddie fumbles with the keys before he’s got the room opened. You’re greeted by tall cardboard effigies that intensify the aura of the Hellfire Club, cutouts of certain DnD creatures held up by stolen scaffolding. It’s gloomy, eerily fun to be surrounded by drawn mythical brutes, and it welcomes you in the same way Eddie did.

“Welcome, to the dungeon,” he opens the door and steps aside to let you in, a hovering hand behind you while his eyes scan for any bystander. Eddie closes the door once you step in, the faint lock tickles your ear in the right way.

Then he’s back to kissing you. You push his jackets away, feel your back dig on the edge of the table that he keeps pushing you on from how eager he is. His open mouthed kisses are hot, hungry for the taste of you, prodding his tongue in to search for more flavors. You feel the denim of his jeans, tugging on the cold chain and slip your nails between the pits, until you reach behind to slip your fingers in his pockets.

Eddie cups your face, digs his rings on your skin. He tilts your head to the side to embark deeper, exhaling into your mouth. “Baby,” he murmurs when you clutch his ass. “Easy there,”

“I want to – I wanna try something new,” you smile against him.

Usually, Eddie’s always the one who asks to try something new with you – being the person he is who’s got more kinks and experience, diving deeper into expeditions so risqué no one else can fathom. And he’s the one who dilapidated your chastity, where he’s thankful for your trust being bestowed upon him; he’s gradually introducing new idiosyncrasies to make your sex life more…fun and adventurous.

So when you’re the first to ask, it takes him aback. But Eddie doesn’t complain because he loved being surprised by you. “Yeah sure, what is it?”

You take the pocket knife from his pocket, breaking the kiss away to place the armament in the space between your faces. Eddie’s smile fades a little into confusion, chuckling. He takes it from your hand.

“I want you,” with a hand on his shoulder, you raise your leg to rest on his hip, curling it around him to let your heel push his crotch closer to yours. Your unoccupied hand delineate his neck, reaching up to abrade his scalp. You give him a gentle nip at his earlobe, one that makes your boyfriend moan quietly, his other hand under your shirt, “to fuck me with the handle of your knife.”

“Jesus, baby,” he breathes out. “That’s dangerous,”

“But I thought you love doing anything dangerous?”

“Yeah I know,” he presses a small kiss on your cheek, grinding his erect crotch on yours. It’s hard enough that it massages your clit right through the thin fabric of your underwear. “But this is a knife baby. God, even I imagine doing things to you with this, but I don’t want to fucking hurt you.”

“Tell me, then,” you palm him through his jeans, scrape the on the hard-on. “What you want to do with me.”

Eddie tugs on your hair, continues sucking on your neck like he wants to drink your blood. You moan when he does so, the pain ricocheting down your throbbing cunt as he says, “Maybe I’d do what you want, fuck you with the handle, then I’d – I’d carve my initials on your thigh, so it’ll scar there forever and I’d let those insubstantial little shits know you’re mine. I’ll suck the blood on it, too, then finger your pussy raw until you squirt all over me again.”

He grinds the closed pocket knife on your pussy, making you even wetter than earlier. “Then I’d let you carve yours on my thigh, I’d let you do whatever you want with it. God, then you’d fucking suck me off like the good little whore you are – on your knees, crying and begging for me to fuck your face while your blood drips down the floor. Then I’d fuck you so good you can’t dance for the pep rally next week, baby.”

“Then do it,” you whine, grinding harder on his knife. “Come on, Eddie. Baby, please.”

“You sure I won’t hurt you?”

“Remember when they dropped me during practice, and I fell on my foot and I broke my ankle?” he nods, head nestling into the crook of your neck to place tormenting hickies on your neck. “Have you seen me cry? I was laughing, Eddie. It didn’t hurt at all, even when they popped my ankle right into place.”

He pulls away, cupping your face and squishing your cheeks together, because Eddie thinks you look cute like that. “You cried a bit when they snapped in place, though.”

“Yeah, but it didn’t hurt,” you giggle. “Please, babe?”

“Alright,” he kisses you once more. “Tell me to stop, okay? Three taps where?”

“On your cheek. Hard.”

“That’s right,”

You’re kissing again, his hands roaming to discard your jacket to the ground where you’d thrown his. He pulls back to pull his shirt away, and you copy him, removing your skirt with and placing it on the table behind you. When you’re left in your bra, Eddie pulls back to stare at them, goggling stupidly.

“Eds,” you push his face away, palm right on his nose. “Stop staring at my boobs like an infant.”

“Yeah yeah,” he shakes his head. Eddie’s lips lather themselves on your exposed skin, sucking on your upper breasts. He flips his knife open, the tip of the knife tracing your arm first.

It’s small, but it’s sharp enough to leave a red scratch, or dangerously penetrate your skin. The steel alloy shines from the light at the back of the room, mercurially glistening all its dauntless silver prowess. The feeling is cold, as cold as Eddie’s rings, as they trail up to the strap on your left shoulder.

Your wild, lust-driven eyes has him foible, knees buckling from how they still look innocent even as you’re about to approach an occurrence that’s so unholy. Eddie bends a little, smiling up at you. And you smile back, because he looks so pretty it’s insane.

He distracts you when he sucks hard on the valley of your breasts when his knife cuts the delicate strap. You gasp when he does so, feeling the split lace drop down to your shoulder. Eddie then guides the knife to the center, dipping the knife beneath where the spine presses on your skin, the edge pushing up to cut your bra in between.

“Shit,” he pulls the other strap down, throwing it to the ground. “Tits always so pretty, babe. Could stare at them for the rest of my life.”

The bevel of his knife rests on your thigh as Eddie takes his time to suck on your nipples. You moan, squirming when he suckles hard. He bites on the pebbled buds, treats the right tit with the same pressure. You whimper when he doesn’t stop doing this, the feeling of someone hearing excites you more than it scared you yesterday.

He breaks away when he’s pleased enough. Eddie kisses up to your swollen lips, unsynchronized kisses from the heavy breathing you both emit.

Eddie flips the knife so he’s holding the blade, the handle drawing down to your inner thigh. His left hand pushes your underwear to the side, handle tracing your wet cunt. You moan against his lips, eyebrows furrowing at the unusual feeling.

He teasingly penetrates your hole, chuckling when you buck your hips closer. “You want me to push it in?”

“Fuck me with it,” you groan. “C’mon, baby. Do it,”

And he does. He slowly pushes the handle in, the shape uncomfortable, but makes you feel half-full. The cold steel makes you buck your hips a bit, makes Eddie stay still as he waits for you to become comfortable. “You alright, sweetheart?”

You nod. “Yeah,” Eddie kneels to press a kiss on your navel. “Fuck me now, please.”

“Alright, baby,” he kisses your inner thigh, a mark where he’s going to carve his initials later. Eddie begins to thrust it in your squelching cunt, the sound better than all the metal that blasts his ears to deafness. The ridges press on your walls, every thrust melts your un-comfort into a grotty bliss.

The other hand rubs figure-eight on your clit, switches between hard pressures and a feather-light touch. It drives you insane because he’s not using his tongue, instead lets it lick his famished mouth. You throw your head back, knees buckling from the lack of leverage. Your hands leave the table to run through Eddie’s wild curls, tugging in a way that makes him moan.

“Fuck, Eddie,”

“Yeah, you like that?” he bites on your thigh, spreads them apart by placing the left leg on his shoulder. “Filthy girl. Hawkins precious cheerleader’s into knives? Letting their precious freak fuck her greedy pussy with the handle, huh?”

You nod, pushing his head closer though he doesn’t do anything. Eddie can smell your arousal from the close proximity, thrusts the handle faster and deeper into your cunt until it stops at the flipper.

“Close,” your hand goes to his wrist, making him pull the handle out. “Want-want you to carve it, now. Then fuck me with your fingers, please.”

Eddie smiles. “You’re nice today, baby. Love your manners.” He nips at your skin. “You’re not a brat like the usual. But I do love it when you’re being demanding sometimes.”

He lifts you to sit on the table, pushing your legs apart until it can no longer move. Eddie licks the arousal off the handle before wiping it on his jeans, flipping it so he’s holding the handle again, tapping the tip on your inner thigh. You shiver in excitement.

“It’s gonna hurt, okay? Like, a lot,” he keeps on pressing kisses on the spot he’s going to use, like he thinks it would be his own anesthesia. “Are you really sure about this?”

“Yes!” you exclaim, breathing heavily. “Dude, just push it in!”

“Don’t call me dude,” he tuts. “Anything but dude.”

“Okay, freak,”

You don’t let the moan from him go unteased. Quietly gasping, you look down at him with wide eyes. Eddie shyly hides his face on your thigh, shaking his head preciously.

“You like that?”

“Don’t – No I don’t.”

“Babe, you moaned.”

“You’re gonna make fun of me,” he squints his eyes at you. “Now shut up or I’m carving a penis on your thigh.”

He taps the tip. One, two, three for good measure before he gently pushes it in. You feel the excruciating phenomenon of the knife delve minimally inside your inner thigh, the alloy lodged in between what's the skin and flesh. The pain pulsates through you like a deafening bass, maims your thigh to throb until it creates tears that sting your eyes. It’s a slim penetration, barely a centimeter in, but it splits your skin open until blood percolates. You hiss, cry quietly when Eddie begins moving.

“I got you baby,” he sits up and crashes his lips on yours, wiping your tear away. Eddie pulls away to kiss each of your cheeks, repetitively, knife moving ever so slowly to shape his name. “You alright? Does it hurt? We can stop.”

“I can handle it,” you push his shoulders down until he kneels again. Eddie’s eyes tear away from yours, flitting to the wound he’s creating on your thigh. The touch of his unoccupied hand is utterly emollient, thumb caressing your skin in hopes to numb the pain away, because his lenient strokes are nothing compared to the blade’s puncture.

He’s on his first line, and he’s got six left. When Eddie starts on the second, he coaxes you through by muttering sweet nothings against your sweating skin. The blood drips down on the table, fraternizes with the arousal you leaked earlier. He licks the blood up, the feeling of his tongue on your tongue painfully gratifying.

“Ah-…shit,” you exhale. The pain withers into nothingness, a dull adulation to Eddie’s success in relaxing you to his cuts. Putting his dexterity into use, Eddie uses his left hand to trace your hole, still leaking of arousal, and pushes it inside your swell cunt.

“Still wet, baby? Even after I cut you?” He’s on his third line, while pushing two fingers inside your cunt as he does it. You moan lowly, running a hand through his tangled hair, pushing the lone strands away from his forehead.

His fingers go fast inside you, not stopping even when you’d coated his slender fingers with your pearlescent seed. It’s gotten to the point that your pussy makes obscenely wet sounds loud enough to be heard outside the room. Eddie’s lapping up the blood that’s leaking from your thigh, finger fucks you until he’s on his last two lines.

Unstoppable fingers make you moan. His rings glim brighter than they used to, probably in need of deep washing as it is now stained with your juices. They curl inside you just in the right way, galvanizing your g-spot evermore. The puddle beneath you turns into a pretty shade of pink as your cum mingles with the dripping blood.

“Faster,”

And he obeys. With the knife moving slowly, his left moves fast – unfathomably fast – arm shaking from the exuberant libido his fingers perform. You let out a long, loud moan, until it breaks into high-pitched whines and short moans, lower abdomen burning white until you begin spurting out liquids like yesterday, gushing everywhere that it stains your wound.

Eddie pulls his lips away from your thigh and sucks on your clit, tongue lapping on your gushing juices like a cat. He pulls his fingers away, dipping his tongue inside your contracting hole before he removes it.

“Shit,” his fingers spread your labia open, “sweets, you’re all swollen. Your cum’s fucking leaking on the table. God, looks so fucking filthy.”

“You like filthy,” you pull on his hair. Eddie moves upwards, presses a harsh kiss against your lips as he finishes the letter M. “You fucking love filthy.”

He bends down and with one last suckle on your wound, the initials E.M. enrich your skin in a grotesquely exquisite mien. The corners painted with dried blood and his saliva, maybe a bit of your arousal. Eddie plants one last, chaste kiss on your wound before he comes up to kiss you.

You take the knife from him when Eddie pulls away to suck the cum off his fingers.

Pushing him away, you tug on his jeans, almost ripping it off. Eddie helps you and discards them, bringing his boxers with so now you’re both standing in front of each other with his cock erect and swell on his stomach. You push Eddie until his back hits the edge of the table, and you exuberantly kneel in front of him.

You don’t suck his cock yet – you relish the sight in front of you with a dumb slacked jaw. Eddie looks down at you, thrust his hips until his tip disappears in your mouth.

“Keep my cock warm for me, would you? While you cut me up?” he cups your face between his thumb and fingers. Eddie pulls his cock away, purses his lips before he spits in your mouth. “Keep it in your mouth like a good slut.”

Filthy benevolence driven by the ascendancy of Eddie, you suck on his cock for a while. You jerk him off with your left hand, enclosing your cheeks around his thick girth, head gagging you when it hits the back of your throat.

It draws a hearty groan from the man above you, loud and deep. It turns you on, makes you really wet that it stings worse than your cut. Eddie fucks your face before you stay pliant, and position the knife on top of his thigh.

The sight of the knife digging into skin is more grotesque than it felt. Like painting crimson on a plain canvas when his flesh cleaves open and exposes his thick fluid. The perfidious knife draws the first pattern of your initial, and Eddie hisses above you.

He thrusts deeper that your nose grazes the curls on top of his cock. You gag around him, feeling your saliva drip down your neck to your naked body, his irate head filling your throat.

Eddie’s blood smears on his opalescent skin, your initials carved smaller than his because you’re afraid of stabbing his thigh. His hand cups your cheeks, rubbing the tears away with a drunken smile.

“You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth,” your other hand fondles with his balls. It makes Eddie throw his head back with a loud moan. “Think you can move while carving?”

You nod eagerly against his cock. You relax your jaw and begin moving your mouth around him, eyes flitting between his heavy, dazed eyes and the knife that jabs on his skin.

The initials are nearly done, bobbing your head faster. With your left hand jerking his cock and twisting, you take gradual sucks on his head to his shaft, popping away to lick his balls to his head, feeling his vein on your thick muscle before you lick his slit.

Eddie moans, meeting your bobs with yearning thrusts. He’s fucking your face like you both wanted. “Fuck, that’s it baby. So good. Doing so fucking good. You enjoy my cock?”

He’s unpleased when you merely nod. Eddie pulls on your hair. “Answers, baby,” he demands.

“Yes,” you gasp. “I love your big fucking cock, Eddie.” You lick his tip, twisting your tongue around the helmet. “Love how big it is it can’t even fit in this fucking mouth, baby.”

He lets you go and pushes his cock deeper in your mouth. “Yeah, so fucking greedy,” Eddie grunts.

Even with your initials done, you don’t stop sucking his dick. You suck the life out of it, twitching cock heralds the forthcoming of his orgasm. You nibble at every ridge of his veins before you lick everywhere on his cock.

Placing the knife on the table behind him to pull away from his twitching dick and suck on the blood oozing on the uneven slit. You lick up every last drop of his blood, and trail your way upwards with small kisses like remedies to the painful cut. You treat his body the same way he treats yours – leaving love bites across his alabaster skin.

Eddie kisses your cheek, then your neck. “Good girl. Good, good girl, baby.”

He sits down on the table, grasping at your waist and urges you to sit on him. You grind on his hard cock, shaft wet with your saliva that now amalgamates with your arousal and cum from earlier. You both moan, stupidly loud, as Eddie helps you rest your knees on either side of his thighs on top of the table.

“You’re so beautiful,” he declares against your lips. “So, so pretty, sweetheart. Gonna ride my cock now?”

“Please,” you grip his cock tight in your burning hand, raising to position his head until you sink down.

His bare cock stretches your overstimulated pussy. Eddie’s cock buried deep inside your cunt becomes the last segment of the freakshow, your light bounces emitting skin slapping that is the invisible crowd’s applaud. Skin on skin, wound to wound does it feel heavenly to be fucked raw by his cock that you both know is yours, and your pussy warming his known to be owned by Eddie.

Blood mingled with unjust arousal banes your wounds. You wrap your arms around Eddie’s neck, nails scratching his back while his portray nipple clamps as they unbearably fondle with your breasts. You ride his cock out of its strength, pushing each bulging vein on your tight walls.

“Pussy’s so fucking tight,” he laughs out, biting your shoulder. “Fucking snug around my cock, baby, ‘s like you were made for me,”

And you were. You apprentice on every crime; on every pornographic show. Immodesty fulfilled by the blood spilt on the table that fuses with your arousals. You bounce on him, draw up until his head’s all that’s left inside you, before you drop down on his cock again.

You scratch on his biceps with ludicrous moans. Eddie’s fingers reach down between you to rub your clit, spitting salacious words in your ear he’s sure he’d burn in hellfire for. “Look at you, doing all the work. You earned this, baby, letting me carve my name on your thigh. Because you love being owned by me, don’t you. Fuck yeah, you do.”

You grind and you bounce, a hand behind you to stabilize your back. With a hand around his neck and the other behind you on top of his knee, Eddie forms as your chair as you lean back to drive his cock deeper inside your cunt.

You feel your orgasm drive again, like roses thrown at your feet as the applauding gets louder. Eddie lets out whines and moans, smiles when you repeat the same broken, high-pitched whimpers. “I’m close, baby.”

Eddie pushes your chest to him, his right hand caressing your wound. You hug your arms around your boyfriend, grinding slowing down as he begins thrusting upwards to make up from the fucking that wore you out.

He moans out loud, face scrunched into a rhapsodic culmination.

A few thrusts left, five slams on your spot and you’re spilling all over his cock. Eddie spurts his ropes inside you, sees his head bulge on your navel. His hand guides yours to press on the head that’s seen. He thrusts upward, swallowing your moan with an open-mouthed kiss.

“Tired?” Eddie kisses the space between your eyebrows. You pant heavily, resting your cheek on his sweaty chest.

“Super,” you chuckle. “Super fucking worn out, baby.”

“Alright sweetheart,” he lifts you up, sits you down on the table. Eddie wraps your legs around his waist, and he hugs you, tightly, like he’s afraid of letting you go.

“You know, this’ll be a sexy scar,” you trace your carving on his thigh. “Really fucking hot. But I’m worried if we broke up and you meet someone knew, she’s gonna see these and she’s going to wonder who’s initials are those.”

You trace the tattoo bats on his arm. Eddie presses a kiss on your hairline, running a hand through your damp hair. “We’re not gonna break up. I love you too much.”

“I love you, too.”

“And if we do, I’ll just tattoo a penis over this one with like, bats around it.”

It earns him a smack on the chest.

banner by @/lauras-collection

2K notes · View notes

hyunjins-orange-slice-too · 2 months

Text

pairing: bang chan x reader

genre: smut/fluff

wc: ~1k

warnings: handjob. that’s literally it? sleepy and adorable subby chan

masterlist

groggily you roll over and slap your hand around until you find the source of the blaring alarm. your phone, going off now for the third time. you tap the screen, silencing the alarm finally. you roll over, gently shaking your sleeping boyfriend. he’s nearly impossible to wake in the mornings. you would take time to admire his sleepy cuteness, his bed head, if you yourself weren’t also so sleepy.

“baby you’ve got to get up. that was your third alarm. you’re going to be late.”

he answered you with a grunt, which you knew meant he didn’t hear a word you said. you gently shook him again. “chan, come on.” he grunted again, this time snuggling further into his pillow. you were so sleepy, and didn’t have to be up for another hour. he was the one that needed to be up now. you tried shaking him again, but your body felt heavy with exhaustion. you tossed your arm over his waist, giving up. you pulled him closer, you being the big spoon, and cuddled your face into his back. he always smelled so good. you inhaled deeply, closing your eyes. just a few more minutes.

your hand rubbed along his naked stomach, just above the line of his boxers. your fingertips played with the small hairs there, then they traveled up to trace the lines of his muscular abdomen. he sighed sleepily. you lazily ran your hand along his side, down over his hip, to his thigh. you splayed your hand across it, squeezing gently. you ran your fingers in circles over his thigh, playing with the bottom of his boxers. moving slightly higher, your thumb grazing across the silky material, you accidentally (but happily) find him slightly erect. morning wood or whatever he called it. you lazily ran your thumb up and down his length, barely applying any pressure. reaching the tip, you could feel the outline of his head. you traced your thumb across it. you absentmindedly played with him like this for a few minutes, his sleepy breaths still deep and slow.

you lightly gripped his length in your hand, palming him through his boxers. he inhaled suddenly, flexing and stretching his body slightly. still drowsy, you slowly moved your hand up and down, his cock growing harder. you played with the head some more, your favorite part, a close second being the thick vein that ran down the underside. you loved his cock. you would voice those thoughts, but your mind was still sleepy and couldn’t force your mouth to make the words. you moved your hand faster, still only touching him over his boxers. he groaned slightly, shifting his weight so he was now laying flat on his back.

you continued palming him, until his cock found its way through the hole in the material. you could feel the velvety skin of the head under your fingertips. you played with the precum there, dabbing your thumb in the wetness. you wrapped your hand around him and began moving up and down once more, gradually getting faster. his head lolled to the side, eyes still closed, dark curly hair tickling his eyelashes. you thought he looked so handsome like this. his face slightly puffy with sleep, his lips full and pouty. you leaned in and placed a gentle kiss there.

“mmm. you’re going to make a mess.” he said, voice raspy with sleep.

you continued to pump him. “that’s what i want.” you whispered. “just wanna make you feel good.” you kissed him gently again, continuing to stroke him. he groaned and rolled over so he was facing you now. his soft brown eyes slowly opened, squinting in the sudden light. he brought his hand up to caress your cheek, his silver chain bracelet reflecting in the light.

“you’ll be laying in it..” he said, a little shy. you hadn’t really thought about that. you had another hour or so before you had to get up. did you want to go back to sleep, laying in his cum? you released your hold on him for a moment and he breathed a sigh of relief. you rolled away from him. “where are you going?” he pouted. you leaned over the side of the bed and retrieved your pajama shirt from the floor, discarded there the night before. you placed it on the bed, directly under his erection, before wrapping your hand around him once more. he giggled slightly at your solution to the problem, but his laughter was cut short when you began pumping again. he gasped, leaning his head on your shoulder.

“fuck..” he breathed. you placed a gentle kiss to his shoulder. he ever so slightly moved his hips in time with your fist, increasing his pleasure. the small breathy whimpers he let out against your ear made you rub your thighs together. as his whines got higher in pitch, you knew he was close.

“come on baby.” you whispered. “are you gonna cum for me, sweet boy?”

he weakly nodded against your shoulder. and with one last whimper, he stilled. his release coated your pajama shirt, and your thumb. you continued stroking him slowly until he returned to earth from his high. you used the shirt to wipe your hand, and then tossed the soiled item in the hamper.

he chuckled, stroking your cheek with his thumb. he leaned in and kissed your forehead. “well good morning.” he mumbled against your skin.

pulling him close, you kissed his chest. “good morning.” you answered, again growing sleepy. “you need to get up.” you told him.

“i know, i know. im going.” he squeezed you in a hug before kissing you one more time. “i love you baby.”

“i love you too.” he climbed out of bed and headed for the bathroom. you pulled his pillow closer, inhaled his scent, and drifted back to sleep.

🚨reminder: this blog is 18+ only. i’ve been getting a lot of new followers (which i greatly appreciate) but if there’s no age identifier on your blog, i’m blocking you no questions asked. (for my own sanity and peace of mind.) ik some people don’t actually go to my page to read the warnings, so im going to start attaching a warning at the bottom of all my posts. thanks for understanding. 💕

#stray kids #bang chan #stray kids x reader #bang chan stray kids #bang chan x reader #stray kids bang chan #stray kids smut #bang chan smut #hyunjins orange slice too

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buthowboutno · 7 months

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HEY NEW CHAPTER OUT OR WHATEVER

aLSO here's a snippet that you should read after you finish it xoxo ~~~

(NOT FOR MINORS)

----

Donnie cut it close, too close. Granted, his season was a whole month early this year, but Donnie knew better. He knew the signs. If he was more mindful, he would’ve holed himself up in his room a week ago and gotten through this nightmare of a season without making a fool of himself.

But what choice did he have? Meat Sweats was tearing up downtown Manhattan and Donnie couldn’t just leave Mikey and Raph to handle it by themselves. And when he saw your missed calls, his mating cycle was in the back of his mind until he knew that you were okay.

Was he pushing it with the aquarium? Yes, but you were crying and upset. There was no other option for Donnie than to cheer you up with gentle touches and a new distraction.

Donnie hoped that you would excuse his abrupt departure. Maybe in a month (or a decade) he would feel less embarrassed and explain the finer workings of soft-shelled reproductive cycles.

But for now? Donnie was feverishly searching through his drawers for his lube, tissues, and stroker.

Even under the threat of death, Donnie would never admit the existence of his sex toys. They were a necessary shame for spending twenty-two years taking care of his ruts by himself. Way back at the age of sixteen, Donnie could admit that his right hand wasn’t getting the job done anymore. The hindbrain demanded tightness and lubrication that only, outside of a living, breathing person, his stroker could provide.

Donnie breathed out a large sigh of relief as his hand landed on the silicone tube. It had been a while since he had wanted to use it, even longer since he had needed release so badly his left leg was slowly turning numb.

Hyperbole, maybe, but Donnie was desperate.

He unceremoniously flopped back onto his bed and pulled his pants off. Donnie’s cock almost immediately sprung to attention as it was released with the removal of his spandex shorts. He palmed the base of it, hissing from the coldness of the lube in his palm.

With just a few strokes, the clarity of Donnie’s mind was returning. The hindbrain was satisfied, for now, which Donnie took advantage of to lube up his toy and slowly ease it onto his length.

(Newton knows he has sacrificed many sheets and bottles of lube when he loses control of himself.)

(Donnie hated this season.)

He breathed shakily as his cock was slowly enveloped by the silicone, his body shaking desperately with need. Donnie moved the toy up and down, just once, and threw his head back with a gasp.

Donnie’s free hand gripped onto a soft fabric that was decidedly not his comforter. He pulled it closer to his face to inspect the foreign object and felt his skin begin to burn with need.

Without any higher thought process, Donnie pressed your hoodie against his face and breathed in deep. The fuzziness of his mind came back into full force as he began to move the toy up and down his cock.

God… would you sit on Donnie’s face?

He would die happy, he thinks, with your thighs on either side of his head and your slick filling all of his senses with your smell.

Donnie bit the bottom edge of the fabric and growled, his eyes clenched shut as he fell down the fantasy of you moaning his name and riding his tongue. Donnie’s experience was purely hypothetical, but he would be good for you. He would be attentive. He would map out every last part of your sex and do everything in his power to bring you to climax.

And how Donnie wanted it.

He wanted to hear your moans of pleasure, wanted to feel you clench down on his fingers as he worked you lose enough to take his cock.

“Fuck,” Donnie gasped, his hips bucking up into the toy.

Spirits, he would enter you so slowly. Donnie wanted to drive the two of you crazy as he filled you, making you take every green inch of him and feel as he dragged his cock back out. He wanted you begging, pleading to go faster. He wanted you to ride him and he wanted to watch as you worked yourself up and down his cock while seeking your pleasure.

Donnie wanted your– fuck.

His hips bucked up again. He turned around to kneel on his mattress, his hand still working the toy and his teeth biting into the fabric of your hoodie while he held himself up.

He could picture himself, like this, lining himself up with your entrance and bucking into you so hard that his bed shakes. Donnie could almost feel, almost taste, your shoulder as he bit down onto your hoodie. He hoped that you would moan into his ear and pull his head up to press open-mouthed kisses as he brought you to the brink.

Donnie hunched over himself and squeezed tighter at the toy.

He could feel himself pushing his tongue into your mouth, making you taste yourself as he rocked against you. Donnie would push you to that final edge with him with a thumb to your clit. He needed to feel you clenching down on his cock while he filled you, he needed–

Donnie came into the toy with a loud moan, your name just a few seconds from passing through his lips. He sat there and breathed, feeling more clear headed than he had been in a month. He sat up with a roll of his shoulders and pulled the toy off of himself. Donnie’s legs were shaking with the come-down of his high, even if his cock, annoyingly, refused to retreat back into his slit.

Then he saw your hoodie with the considerable hole pierced through the bottom edge of it. The images from his fantasy came flooding back alongside the newfound shame of getting off to his best friend.

“Oh, fuck,” Donnie croaked, picking up the hoodie and thumbing the tattered edge with his thumb. He felt another wave arousal grip his body as he caught your scent again. He patted around for his stroker and slipped it back on just before his mind went blank.

“Oh, fuck.”

#atwlp #donnie x reader #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt donnie x reader #donatello x reader #rise donnie x reader #rottmnt fanfiction #fanfiction

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clementine-thedestroyer · 5 months

Text

Second time in one week I try to write porn without plot and somehow 1-2k words of soft fluffy hurt-comfort bullshit show up at the front door and just make themselves at home. I'm not even kidding, the last 1500 words are just more sex, but softer. There's not even any elements of the prompts in that part. Someone take away my fucking Tumblr and Ao3.

Anyways. With that out of the way, may I present to the esteemed ladies, gentlemen, and otherwise categorized inhabitants of Tumblr: Kinktober in December

Kinktober day 23/24: Shibari + pet play - Gaz x reader

Warnings/Tags: Bondage/shibari, Pet play (kitten, specifically), gags, blindfolds, overstimulation, fem!reader, unprotected piv sex, sex as aftercare, then more aftercare. The pet play is pretty light in this, and Gaz is a soft dom but gets a bit meaner than usual here. The gets super soft.

Gaz was an asshole. That's it, you’ve decided. Let it be known across the lands that you, girlfriend supreme, officially, deem your sweet, caring boyfriend of nearly 10 months a complete asshole on the rare occasion he decides to be mean in the bedroom.

Or… maybe the term “pill” would be more suitable. Because calling him an “asshole” implies a certain level of jerkiness, and Gaz was anything but a jerk- and it also implies that he’s doing something you don’t like… and it would be a lie to say you didn’t like this.

This being how you’re spread out on the bed- lying on your stomach and held in place by an array of intricate knots. Your right leg was stretched out behind you and towards the bottom of the bed. A rope looped around your ankle is secured to the foot of the bed- keeping you from pulling it up. Another loop is done around the thigh of the same leg, although the loop around your thigh goes to secure to the side of the bed frame instead of the foot, and the loop itself was done a bit tight- not enough to hurt- just enough for the muscle and fat of the area to bubble out a bit. Your left leg was bound completely differently. Gaz had had you bend your knee all the way, until your heel was nearly touching your butt- then had tied it that way. The bindings on that leg also had a rope connecting down to the bed frame- although done to the side and towards the headboard. Together with the positioning of your other leg, the ropes kept your legs spread and your body on display for anyone in the room.

Your arms were tied too, of course. Gaz had pulled them both behind you and had you bend your elbows so he could bond your forearms together horizontally. And in addition to the ropes keeping you in place, there was, of course, a cute little pair of cat ears perched atop your head.

The position wasn’t uncomfortable, and it was far easier for Gaz to get you into than plenty of the others the two of you had done. Gaz had even given the ropes keeping your legs in place a bit of slack out of consideration for your hip flexors.

That really should have been your first warning.

Gaz was usually meticulous with his rope work. If he didn’t want you to be able to move, you would not be able to move. So the fact that you were left with enough room to wiggle, squirm, and even slightly reposition yourself was an intentional one.

But you didn’t quite catch on to what he was planning until later.

You let him tug a blindfold over your eyes- blissfully unaware of whatever he was doing behind you- aside from teasing him whenever you heard the sound of him dropping or struggling to find something in his own closet.

You laughed when he responded to your teases with a quip of his own- warning you to mind the rather vulnerable position you’ve let him put you in. a warning which you, of course, paid no heed to. Gaz wasn’t much of a stickler for behavior- you could get away with whatever the bratting equivalent of murder was with him, and you knew it. With Gaz, it was all soft and sweet- although certainly not vanilla.

You didn’t think much of it when, once he finally found what he was looking for, he positioned himself behind you and, instead of going for your cunt, poured a generous amount of lube onto his fingers and started opening up your ass.

You whined softly and arched your back for him, grinding your clit down against the mattress beneath you and greedily pushing back on the one, then two fingers that stretched you open. Your needy display was met only with amusement- no praises of “good girl” and no hand reaching down to toy with your clit.

You couldn’t help but pout, still rocking back on the fingers that fucked you open. You could play this man like a damn fiddle, and you knew it- why weren't your usual tricks working?

You didn't even think much of it when he finally removed his fingers- only to replace them with a toy instead of his cock. You did, however, whine a bit about it. Why did he have to spend all that time stretching your ass if he was just going to fuck your pussy anyways?

You weren't given an answer beyond an amused chuckle and a reminder to “be patient”.

The toy in your ass is one you recognize immediately. The fur tickling at your skin was a dead giveaway- along with the fact that wherever the cat ears go, Gaz makes sure the matching tail will follow.

You only start to realize it’s not going to be one of you two’s usual nights when you feel the head of a wand vibrator nestled against your clit and turned on.

You immediately jerk in your bindings, yelping at the sudden stimulation and immediately trying to lift your hips up and away from it- only for the vibrator to move with you. You whine pitifully as you realize Gaz is tying it to your thigh, arching your back harder and practically wiggling your ass for him as you try to squirm away from the toy.

“Settle down, kitty.” Gaz says calmly- though you’re certain that if you could see his face, you’d find him grinning ear-to-ear. He places a large hand on each side of your hips and gives them a warning squeeze before gently pushing you back down flat against the mattress- the tail bouncing slightly and brushing against the back of your thigh when he does.

You let out a muffled plea as he holds your hips down, sandwiching the vibrator between you and the mattress and effectively forcing you to let the vibrator nestle directly against your clit. The vibrations against your clit were already bordering on too much at first- but like this, the stimulation was downright painful.

You begged incoherently and bucked your hips, squirming desperately as tears started to gather at the corners of your eyes. When Gaz finally released his hold on your hips- even going so far as to lift them up for you to relive the worst of the stimulation- you sobbed, breathing heavily as your legs twitched in the ropes binding them.

“Aw, does kitty not like that?” Gaz asks- and you can hear the teasing tone and amusement in his voice as he does.

The blindfold has been thoroughly displaced by this point. Because of being on your stomach and the relative mobility you had with your upper body, all of your squirming had been enough for it to get slightly pulled down, just enough for you to turn your head back to look at Gaz and give him a desperate look.

“Kyle!! P-Please! I-I can’t- I can’t! It hurts!” You plead, in what you’re sure is an absolutely debauched state. Your hair is probably a mess, your face is wet from tears, and you’re practically trembling as you beg him.

Gaz smiles softly, and you watch him grab what you recognize as the wand’s remote and click the “down” button a couple of times. He then leans forward, still supporting your hips with one arm as he presses a kiss to your wet cheek.

“Sorry, love. That was mean, I know.” He says, still smiling and gently tugging the blindfold back over your eyes as he speaks.

You whine pitifully- both at the loss of your vision and his words- and go limp against the bed, letting your head fall against the mattress and your hips rely fully on Gaz’s hold. Once you go limp, you get a pat on the bottom and a pillow placed under you.

“I’ll be right back.” Gaz says softly to you, and as his hands leave your hips, the pillow supports you enough to keep the vibrator just barely touching your clit- as opposed to being pressed fully against it like earlier.

When Gaz returns, you feel the vibrations switched off and his hand takes one of yours and unclenches it from the tight fist you’ve made it. Before you can ask him what he’s doing or even make a noise of confusion, you feel the shape of a familiar object pressed into your palm.

The clicker. You know this system, it’s one of the two you use- and it also means that you’re likely about to be gagged, because the clicker’s meant for whenever you couldn’t speak or reach a part of Gaz’s body to tap on. Three fast clicks to safeword, one finger stuck out to respond “yes” to a question, and two fingers to respond “no”.

Gaz wraps your fingers around the clicker, situating your thumb beside the button so you can feel where it is. He then leans down, smoothing your hair down a bit and adjusting the cat ears before kissing the nape of your neck and asking you a question.

“Can you show me a “stop”?”

You nod softly and move your thumb onto the button, quickly pressing down three times and filling the room with three loud clicks.

“Good girl,” Gaz says, placing a hand at the base of your spine and rubbing it soothingly. “Am I good to continue?”

You nod, sticking out the index finger of the hand not holding the clicker at the same time to reaffirm your response.

When you feel a hand under your chin, you flinch in surprise. Only for Gaz to laugh and place a hand atop your head, petting at your hair softly before guiding your head back towards him.

“It’s okay kitty, I’m just going to gag you.” Gaz says, pushing the rubbery ball lightly against your lips. Not trying to put it in, but just showing you what he’s about to put in your mouth.

“It’s just the ball gag, okay? You’ve had it before.”

You nod slightly, sticking your tongue out to tentatively lick at the ball in a way that you know will make Gaz smile.

Since he turned off the vibrator, you’ve been steadily calming down from your slightly panicked and very wiggly attempts to escape. With the mean, overstimulating, and relentless assault on your clitoris finished- or at least paused- you’re much more content to sit pretty and sweet for Gaz- so you accept the gag easily.

“Good girl,” Gaz says as you part your lips and let him push the ball securely into your mouth, even tilting your head forward to give him better access to the back of your head to secure the gag. When he’s finished, you’re rewarded with a gentle pat to your cheek and kiss to the top of your head.

“We wouldn’t want you making too much noise and bothering the neighbors, now would we kitty?” He says, giving a final scritch to the area right behind your ear before standing up. You feel the bed shift beneath you as he moves, and you turn your head to the other side to follow the sound of his footsteps as he walks around the bed. When he gets to the other side he sits back down onto the bed between your spread legs- and you practically keen around the gag, arching your back and trying to wiggle your butt back towards him in a silent plea to please fill you up.

Your cunt feels achingly empty, and you find yourself wishing for nothing more than for Gaz to fuck you and make you feel nice and full. Your ass is already filled so nicely with the plug- all you need is Gaz’s cock inside of you and you’ll melt.

Because doesn't it just sound perfect? Gaz got to have his fun with the wand earlier- and now your clit’s oversensitive and you can’t stop clenching around nothing.

You're caught off guard when, instead of Gaz’s cock pushing into you, you feel the wand vibrator tied to your thigh start back up. You scrunch your nose as a wave of confusion hits you- only to be quickly forgotten as you feel the mattress shift beneath you once again as Gaz stands up.

The pillow Gaz had placed under you earlier is taken away, and you’re once again left trying to squirm away from the wand vibrator and keep pressure off of it. You let out a pitiful, betrayed whine behind the gag. Tears once again start to wet the blindfold over your eyes as you desperately try to squirm- looking over at where you think and hope Gaz is and giving him the most betrayed and pleading look you can despite the gag and blindfold. But you don’t get the mercy you were hoping for. Instead, you get a hand on your lower back- not quite pushing you down like before, but almost warning you- and a rare stern tone from Gaz.

“You know what to do if you need it to stop.”

You nod and choke on a sob, continuing to squirm and let desperate, pitiful noises leak through the gag as the toy’s vibrations wrack through your body. A particularly loud yelp spills out of you as Gaz pushes two fingers into your drenched pussy and presses down, right where he knows you’re the most sensitive. The pressure from his fingers forces you to choose between keeping your hips up and pushing against his fingers, or lowering them and letting the vibrator be pressed against your clit again. You're caught between two different sources of “too much”, and left with stuttering hips, jerky movements, and shaky breaths as you try to find a relief that doesn't exist.

“I’ll be back in a little bit.” Gaz says, pulling his fingers out and wiping them on the back of your thigh.

The heat of embarrassment at your cheeks is quickly overpowered by panic as his words register to you. You nearly bawl as you hear his footsteps start to recede and the bedroom door open, and you know that if not for the gag, you’d be screaming and begging for him to come back.

You know you can stop it, you know he’s not going to go far away enough to not hear the clicker. He probably hasn’t even left the room- probably standing in the doorway and keeping a close eye on you- but nothing about knowing that makes you feel any better.

You feel a surge of bratty anger bubble up inside you. How dare he just leave you here!? You were being good and everything! You’ve done nothing to warrant this new… mean version of Gaz!

You try to shake the cat ears off your head- hoping that if Gaz comes back to find you’ve dislodged them and maybe your blindfold too, you’ll get a reaction from him- only to nearly scream in frustration when you fail to make them move an inch. At this point, the brush of the tail’s fur against your thighs has simply become an annoyance too, but you can’t move away from it with the ropes keeping you in place.

Your anger doesn't last long. In fact, most of your thinking is out the window after a couple of minutes, because keeping your hips raised starts to hurt- bad. Before long, your thighs and core are shaking from holding yourself up and your back aches from being arched for so long without support. You hold out for as long as you can, but eventually, you have to give in.

When you finally collapse flat onto the mattress, you break. Your clit is back to being pushed into the head of the wand vibrator by your weight against the mattress, and soon after, you reach a painful orgasm that leaves you sobbing and shaking.

That’s how you know Gaz never actually left the room, because the second you cum, a strong arm lifts your hips and the vibrator is moved away. Instead, Gaz’s fingers take its place- making gentle circles around your clit and letting you grind down onto his hand, whispering sweet praises to you as you ride out your orgasm on his fingers at your own pace.

The gentleness of Gaz’s touch was enough to have you melting. Supported and safe in his arms- whimpering softly behind your gag as the pain gave way to pleasure.

After your orgasm, your head was left hazy and muddled. Enough so that when Gaz undid the gag and pulled the blindfold up and off of your eyes, you didn’t do much more than whine and try to hide from the too-bright lights of the room.

“Good girl” Gaz muttered somewhere behind you- his fingers working quickly at the knots keeping your arms together as he spoke soft praises to you.

His words sent you somehow higher than you already were, and you were right up on cloud nine from the comforting sound of his voice alone. Even the pain of easing your joints out of the position they had been bound in so long didn’t bother you too much.

Once your arms were free, you reached a hand down in between your legs, riding out the aftershocks of your orgasm- although it eventually just became you lazily playing with your oversensitive clit.

Once Gaz finished untying your legs, you found yourself laid on your back and looking up at him, head still hazy, legs still feeling like jelly, and still shamelessly toying with your clit. Gaz himself was still fully clothed- wearing a pair of jeans and a short-sleeved button-up. While usually, being the only one naked might make you squirm in shyness and embarrassment, right now, it only served to comfort you. Being completely bare, laid out, and wrecked for Gaz made you feel… happy. Fuzzy and warm, all that good stuff. Plus, how could you be embarrassed when he was looking down at you with such a loving smile on his face… even if it quickly turned bemused as his eyes followed your arm to the space between your legs.

“You're still going, love? I figured you’d be too sensitive to be up for anything after this.” Gaz said, reaching his hand down to spread your lips to see your swollen clit.

You nod, wincing at a particularly harsh circle of the bud by your hand. You were too sensitive to get off like this- but you also weren't going to stop. You wanted nothing more than to curl up in his arms and let him take care of you, but you were pulled away from that warm, fuzzy feeling you usually got at the end of a scene by the lingering aching of your cunt. Sure, you came- but the fact that you never had anything besides a few fingers inside of you (which didn’t even count, they were only there for a few seconds) meant that, even though your clit was over-abused, the rest of you was still up and ready for round two.

“You shouldn’t touch yourself if it’s hurting like that.” Gaz says, frowning at your pained expression and gently starting to pull your hand away from yourself.

You whine, throwing your head back and furiously shaking it no- nearly dislodging the cat ears that were still on your head. Gaz sighs and smiles at your display, leaning down to kiss you before trying to sit back up, only for you to wrap your arms tightly around his neck and trap him in a hug. He only laughs in response, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you up with him and into his lap.

“Tell me what you need, Love. A bath? Food? Sleep?”

You shake your head no to all of his questions. At the moment, all you really want is for him to make the ache in your pussy go for you in a way that doesn't involve your oversensitive clit. Perched on Gaz’s lap, your arms are too busy holding onto him to continue to jerk yourself off, so instead you settle for grinding down on the straining bulge of his cock to try to get your point across.

Gaz groans when you grind against him through his jeans, his arm tightening around you as he hisses a curse under his breath. “Fuck- okay, I get it.” He says, reaching a hand down to your clit.

You immediately jerk away, shaking your head no hurriedly. Gaz freezes, looking at you with confusion until realization hits him.

“Oh, is it too sensitive there?” He asks, smiling when you nod and give him a squeeze. “Guess that would be my fault, Love. It’s only right that I help you with that, hm?” He adds, a self-satisfied tone creeping into his voice.

You resist the urge to slap at his back or call him cheeky. It’s quickly forgotten anyways, because when Gaz reaches down to undo his pants and push his boxers down, you’re treatedto the lovely sight of his straining cock against your stomach- a bead of precome smearing over your skin as he moves his hand to your slick folds and presses two fingers into you.

“Bloody hell, you’re soaked.” Gaz grits through clenched teeth, his cock twitching against your stomach as you clench down on his fingers and grind down on them. All the joking and teasing of just a few seconds ago is long forgotten, and Gaz is all seriousness and barely kept in check need.

It doesn't take much more than a few needy whines to convince Gaz to replace his fingers with his cock, and before you know it, you’re being lifted by the hips and lowered onto his length. He slips into you with barely a stretch, and it’s absolute bliss. The second he’s fully inside of you, you wrap your legs around his hips and your arms around his neck, letting your eyes fall closed and your head sink back into that floaty headspace. Now that you’ve gotten this far, you know Gaz will take care of you. It was just a matter of communicating what you needed at a time when words- let alone sentences weren’t coming easy.

He starts by taking you by the waist, holding you steady as he rolls his hips beneath you. His cock rubs against your inner walls perfectly, and the slow and gentle start has you moaning happily at the warm, steady pleasure, and it’s not long before you’re (trying, it’s a bit difficult in your position) to move your hips in sync.

“F-Fuck.” Gaz groans into your ear. “You’re so wet- you’re drenching me, love."

You moan, clinging to him tighter as he lays you down on your back and tries to slide his hands out from under you and sit up.

“Love, you’ve got to let go of me if you want me to fuck you properly, okay?” He says, breathing heavy beside you as he runs his hand lovingly through your hair.

You nod shakily, letting your hands fall to your sides and your legs loosen around his hips. As soon as you do, Gaz sits up and loops his arms under your knees, bending you nearly in half and lifting your hips just enough for him to get a good angle as he starts fucking into you.

You let out a small squeak and grab onto Gaz’s arms to steady yourself at the first thrust, startled by the sheer strength behind the movement. But your tense caution quickly falls away as his cock starts bullying into your sensitive spots repeatedly.

You reach down with your hand, very lightly touching your still sensitive clit just enough to help get you along to an eventual orgasm. Just as you feel it on the crest of beginning to build, Gaz hikes your legs up higher, leaning forward and nearly getting your knees to touch your ears.

“Fuck, Love. You know I wasn’t even planning on fucking you tonight, hm? I figured you’d be too sensitive for that after what I put you through- and I was more than happy with the fuckin’ years of material to jerk off to after watching you tonight.” He growled, hunched over you and keeping you pinned in your folded position with his weight as he fucks into you.

Your orgasm crests like that, as Gaz’s hips smack against your ass and his cock pounds into you. Each drag of his length in and out feels better than the last, and you’re sure you’re letting out lewd noises you should be embarrassed about, but you don’t care, because all you can do is ride out your orgasm and trust Gaz to take care of you afterwards.

This time, Gaz’s attempts at giving you aftercare are greeted warmly. Because once Gaz’s thrusts stutter and his cum spurts into you, you’re left happy and sated. Sore and exhausted, yes, but successfully tired out enough that you’re content to curl up in Gaz’s arms and float in your headspace until the pull of sleep becomes too much.

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

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yancherrysoda · 8 months

Text

The Faux Divine of Freedom

Took me long enough 🧍‍♂️

I had a lot of fun writing this! I will for sure cringe at this in like a month or two, but whatever. It was originally going to be 2.500 words; I don’t know how it turned out to be more than twice as long. The 2-month hiatus did me good lol

There’s a scene where Venti admires your lips; I really tried my best to describe them in a way that doesn’t go too much into detail since the reader is you, and your skin color might not be the same as mine, so if it sounds a little bit weird, it’s because of that.

This is part 2 of my yandere Venti oneshot series

Warnings: none

Word count: 6.273

Venti's feet made no sound on the stairs, his slender fingers gripping onto the banister with every step. His gaze was fixed ahead as he descended, unseeing but knowing where each stair ended and began. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he slowly approached your bedroom door and raised one hand to knock lightly against it three times. When you did not answer, he slowly turned the doorknob and peeked inside, only to be greeted with an empty room. This was not a strange occurrence; when you first arrived here, you would spend the majority of your time locked in your bedroom, unwilling to talk or spend any time with him at all. However, lately, you opted to leave the house, preferring instead to spend time outside—and that is where he found you.

Stepping out of the house, his eyes immediately focused on your figure, curled up on a rock at the edge of the shore. Your legs were pressed tightly to your chest as your arms wrapped around them in a comforting hug. He cautiously approached you, taking in your presence before settling down not too far from you.

“Can we talk?” His voice was soothing, barely audible over the sound of the waves crashing against the shore.

You turned your head to look at him; your eyes narrowed and lips pressed tightly together as your body shook ever so slightly.

He tried scurrying closer to you, but you moved away sharply.

“Don’t touch me.”

Ignoring your warning, he tried once again to close the gap between the two of you, which made you grab him by the collar of his shirt as you reached into the pocket of your shorts, your hand wrapping around the cool metal handle of a violin peg reamer. With a swift motion, you withdrew it and pressed its tip against his neck. While it was not sharp, he was sure that with enough strength, you could break his skin if you were to put enough force behind it.

“I said don’t touch me,” you hissed, “Or I’ll drive this through your throat.”

“When did you get—” You tightened your grip around his collar, cutting off his words as you pressed the tool below his jawline, right where his head connected to the neck. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

You retreated the reamer back into your pocket and released him. His hands came up to rub at the tender spot where you had held him.

He didn’t try to move closer again.

The both of you sat there in silence, watching the waves come in and crash against some of the rocks before it was eventually broken by your rumbling stomach. You wrapped your arms around it, hoping to keep it still.

Venti’s eyes stayed fixed ahead. “I know what you’re trying to achieve by going on a hunger strike. Do you think that’s going to set you free?” He sighed. “Not only is it childish and very ineffective as a form of protest, but you could also potentially harm yourself, and I wouldn’t want that for you.” He eyed the peg reamer that you clutched tightly beside you. “You can also try and stab me as many times as you want; it’s not going to change anything.”

An awkward silence settled in between you both yet again. Venti felt the tension in the air, wishing he could break it but not knowing what to say or do. He thought about all the things he had wanted to discuss with you, and yet now he knew better than to breach those topics, as you were clearly not in the mood to talk to him.

“How long have I been here?” You asked after a while.

He shrugged. “A month, give or take.”

“My family, have they tried looking for me?”

Venti jolted, his face going pale as if he had stepped straight into a freezer. He lowered his head, fidgeting with his fingers. “I haven’t talked to them.”

You scoffed. “Of course you haven’t. What would you have told them anyway? That I ran away? They wouldn’t have believed you.” You paused for a moment, looking out into the sea. “And when I die, you can just disappear for a couple more centuries. By the time you decide to come back, nobody we knew will be there to tell you anything.” You looked back at him, your expression unreadable. “Sounds like the perfect plan, doesn’t it?” You lifted your legs from the ground, pressing them against your chest once again as you rested your chin on your knees. “I wish I never met you.”

His breath hitched. “Please don’t say that.” He leaned towards you, his hands pressing against the bumpy surface of the rock. “Haven’t you felt something for me?”

Your lip curled into a sneer. “Whether I felt something for you or not doesn’t matter anymore; thanks to this brilliant idea of yours, all of that is gone now.”

He knew this would not be easy, of course he did. You would not expect someone who had been taken away from their home and forced to be exiled until the end of their days to be happy about it, yet he could not help but feel how his heart broke at your words. Seeing you switch from showering him with love and affection straight to hostility tore him apart in ways he had not expected. Despite his best efforts these past few weeks, he could not seem to bridge the huge gap that had formed between the two of you.

But that was fine; he could rebuild the previous life he had with you. Sure, it would take time, but he was willing to wait; he knew how to do that very well.

He stood up, offering you a hand. “Care to join me inside?”

The two of you stepped through the door, his cape billowing out behind him like a sail in the wind. He removed it slowly, then hung it on the coat rack you had just at the entranceway. He carefully placed his hat next to it, then straightened it with a gentle touch of his fingers before turning to stand in front of you.

“I told you that you may get into my room any time you want, but not to take things out of it that could potentially be used to commit murder.” He extended his hand in your direction, his palm facing up. “The peg reamer, hand it to me.”

You took a couple of steps back, hiding the tool behind your back. “Huh?”

“I can’t risk you lashing out at me like during that kitchen knife incident the other day. I really don’t want to deal with that again.” He placed his free hand on his hip. “You might also hurt yourself with it.”

“I’m not a child.”

“You’ve been behaving like one lately, so hand it to me.” He moved his fingers slightly, indicating that you should hand over the reamer.

You slowly pulled it out from behind your back and placed it on his hand.

“Good, we’re making progress.”

You then stepped into the kitchen, a cozy space with white walls adorned with wooden wainscotting on the lower half—just like in every other part of the house. You took a seat at the old wooden table with your head propped on your hand, clearly not in the best of moods, as you carefully watched Venti walk towards the sink to wash his hands.

He hummed as he moved around the room—here plucking an onion from its little basket, there taking out apples from their box. Opening the fridge, he took out a piece of meat and some butter before searching through drawers filled with spoons and forks until he found a knife. Then, he took one of the hanging pans and placed it on the stove before adding the butter and some spices like pepper, garlic, and rosemary. While he waited for the butter to melt, he grabbed the knife and started cutting the apples.

“We’ve known each other for over two years now and you still haven’t told me what your favorite dish is,” he said, trying to make small talk as he chopped the apples. He peeked at you over his shoulder, then continued, “Maybe if you did, I could have cooked it for you.”

“I don’t have a favorite dish.”

Once the butter melted, he added the meat and waited for it to cook before finally adding in the sliced apples.

The aroma quickly filled the room, making your stomach rumble once again.

He stirred the pan. “Is that so? Then I guess I’ll have to make something that you would consider your favorite.”

You shifted your position, crossing one leg over the other as you leaned back against the chair. “But I did like the Buoyant Breeze at that restaurant we went to before,” you added.

Venti smiled at your response. “You have good taste.” He took a plate, scooped some of the food onto it, then walked over to you.

“Aren’t you going to eat as well?”

“I don’t need to, not as much as a human. I do get hungry, but hunger won’t kill me; it will only make my stomach hurt and cause some fatigue, which are symptoms I don’t like to deal with, and I doubt you do either so,” he set the dish down before taking a seat across from you, “I would advise you to stop this nonsense and eat when you have to,” he said, his voice coming out louder than he had intended.

You looked down at the plate and immediately recognized the dish as Northern Apple Stew.

Venti propped his chin on the back of his hands as his elbows rested on the surface of the table. He tilted his head to the side. “By the way, the dish you mentioned; Buoyant Breeze, did you know it’s Barbatos’?”

You stopped mid-bite. “That’s your—”

“Yep. I thought it would have been nice to cook something of my own and share it with other people. It took me many years to find the perfect ingredients.”

“It’s just carrots, potatoes, and onions,” you remarked before taking the first bite.

“Ah, but the secret lies in the combination of all three. Each has its own unique taste that complements the others.” He leaned in closer to you, his emerald eyes sparkling with enthusiasm as he spoke, “It’s a dish that represents my identity as Barbatos.”

You took a bite of the apple, tapping the fork thoughtfully against the edge of your plate. “I guess that’s why it’s so simple.”

He pretended to be deeply offended, but the corners of his mouth curled into a smirk. Crossing his arms, he leaned back against his chair. “How dare you say that? Do you not appreciate the taste of high-class cuisine when it’s presented before you?”

His fake indignation made you chuckle. “I do, I absolutely do. It’s incredibly delicious,” you said, “When it’s prepared by experienced chefs instead of you.”

“Oh ho! Alright, I get it,” he chuckled, running his hand through his dark hair. “How about you let me try my luck and cook it for you next time? You actually never tried eating it from the very Anemo Archon himself.”

"Sure,” you replied. It was the kind of 'sure' that meant 'yeah, right'. Your voice had a tinge of sarcasm to it, and he knew from your expression that you were not convinced.

“Then it’s settled. I’ll cook it for you tomorrow night,” he declared confidently.

The evening continued with Venti taking on a storyteller’s demeanor, regaling you with stories of his past exploits and sharing his deep-rooted philosophy on life.

At some point, he delved into the history of wine—how could he not—and how it came to be in Mondstadt. He described a certain mischievous wind spirit that took the form of a fox and fermented some apples under a negligent guard's care. When the guard awoke, he bit into one of those apples and, finding that he enjoyed the flavor, squeezed the sack that contained the apples to create wine.

His tales flowed like the finest wines, and as you finished your meal, he cleared the table and placed the dishes in the sink.

You got to your feet and headed to your room, with him walking right beside you like a persistent thorn in your side. You were about to open the door when you paused, hand still on the doorknob. “Why are you following me?”

“I don’t have anything to do.”

“Then why don’t you go find something?” As you stepped through the doorway, Venti placed his foot against the door, preventing it from being closed.

“I want to talk to you, like how we always did.”

“I don’t, so get out of my room.” You attempted to push him back and out of the room, but he caught both of your hands in his, holding them still. He gently shoved you inside, then kicked the door shut.

“It’s been a month, [Name], this can’t keep going on.”

You pulled yourself free from his grasp, turning to face him with an obviously fake smile. “You’re right, this can’t keep going on, so let me out.”

A deep, exasperated sigh escaped his lips. “We’ve talked about this.”

“Then I guess there’s nothing more to say.” You crossed your arms, the fake smile growing wider as he stepped closer.

“[Name], come on now; if there’s anything you’d want me to do, I’ll do it.”

“Didn’t I already tell you what I wanted?”

“That has nothing to do with setting you free.”

He carefully watched your movements as you wandered around your room; it remained the same as when you arrived here, only having a couple of extra things here and there like books, scented candles, and other trinkets. There were also three frames hanging on one of the walls, perfectly aligned one after another. Originally, Venti had placed photos of the two of you from your previous adventures in them, but due to the rage you felt towards him for what he had done, you took them out of the frames and tore them into little pieces.

“Is there any way you could help me communicate with my family? To let them know that I’m alive and well?”

Venti exhaled heavily, reaching out to rub the back of his neck. “That’s going to be a pain in the ass.”

“The least you could do is grant me this request,” you said. “Or do I have to pray to you?”

He chuckled. “That would be nice.”

“Fuck off.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Your temper sure has gotten worse over your stay here.” He stared out the window, turning the thought over in his mind. If he agreed to let you contact your parents, he would have to talk to them first, which would be a pretty awkward experience. Of course, he could not allow you to have direct contact with them, so it would have to be done through notes. “I guess I could help you, but only if you agree to do something.” After all, you would not pass on such an opportunity, right? He might as well get something from you in return.

“Agree to do something? Do you think you’re in the right to make any demands of me?”

Venti smiled in amusement, his lips curling up into a grin. “I just want you to let me hug you; it’s a small price to pay for what you’re asking me for.”

You turned your head away from him. “This is something I would call a pain in the ass, and not what I asked for.” You looked back at him. “Fine.”

He giggled, taking a step towards you. “There’s one thing I forgot to mention, though. You see, I’m a little bit tired, so if you could allow me to hold you as you…” he leaned in slowly, “Sit on my lap, that would make me very happy.”

“You’re delusional.”

“Your request is rather complicated, as I’ll have to think of something to tell your family about your whereabouts.” He placed a hand over his heart as he said in a pitiful tone of voice, “Not to mention the humiliation I’ll have to go through if I did that.”

“Aren’t there any other options?”

“Oh, there sure are, but I doubt you’ll say yes.”

You uttered a string of curses under your breath. “Whatever.” You raised an eyebrow at him, “What are you tired of anyway? Doing nothing all day just like how you do nothing as the patron God of Mondstadt?”

It was a fact that he had not been very active in terms of leadership in his nation over the past centuries, but he had never given up on it. If the day ever came when his people would need him—no matter what shape or form the situation may take—he will always be there to step in.

“What’s with that sassy attitude?”

“What’s with that sassy attitude?” You mimicked his words in a mocking tone. “Oh, I’m very sorry! I didn’t know I had to exhibit a good attitude towards my kidnapper!” You grabbed him by the shoulders and, with an effortless motion, pushed him onto a nearby chair, planting yourself on his lap. You placed a hand over his chest, pushing him further into it. “Tell me, oh great God of Freedom—if I dare call you so myself—doth this please you?”

Your actions caught him off guard, and he almost missed his grip on the chair. He looked slightly dazed by your boldness but quickly recovered.

“Huh? Oh, your switch in behavior, or you sitting on my lap?” He let out a hearty chuckle, his shoulders bouncing slightly. He rested his hands on your hips to help balance you. “Either way, yes, very much so.”

Your jaw was visibly clenched, and your throat bobbed as you gulped. It looked as if you were about to jump at his throat right then and there. Your hand got ahold of the back of the chair as you leaned in, “We’re not lovers; we’re not friends either, not anymore, so don’t talk to me as if our relationship was still the same.”

Venti's gaze met yours with seriousness, his brows drawn together. “I get it.”

Carefully, you slipped further away from him until you were nearly perched on his lap.

“I can’t hug you when you’re that far away.”

“Sucks.”

Venti dropped his legs so suddenly and sharply that you almost slipped off him, which made you quickly react and reach out to wrap your arms around his neck to steady yourself.

He gave you a light kiss on your ear before whispering, “That’s more like it.”

You quickly pulled yourself away from him. “You’re a little shit, you know that?”

He stuck out his tongue, his eyes narrowing cheekily.

You dug your fingers into his shoulders.

“Ow ow ow ow! Alright, I’m very sorry!” He moved one of his hands behind his back, his fingers subtly crossed. “I won’t do anything like that again, I promise.”

Apologies exchanged, Venti’s hands shook ever so slightly as he wrapped them around your frame. The second he nested his head on your chest, it felt like his body had found its home. Nothing around him mattered; his worries and cares all seemed to dissolve away the moment he touched you. He closed his eyes and sighed, listening to your heartbeat. It thumped strong and steady, with a rhythm that could beat on forever—or so he wished.

“I missed holding you like this,” he uttered.

This was the only time you let him even come an inch closer to you; normally you would avoid or scowl at him. He understood that his actions disgusted you, yet he won’t lie and say that the past month has not been excruciating. The change in your behavior reminded him of a human he considered his friend long ago—a red-headed warrior that came to live in Old Mondstadt under Decarabian's dictatorial rule. When Decarabian was defeated and Venti ascended to godhood under the name of Barbatos, for reasons he has yet to comprehend, the warrior then turned his back on Venti.

He nuzzled closer to you. “I know you don’t understand why I did this to you, and I have a feeling that you never will, but let me at least explain myself.” He drew a breath, releasing it slowly. “The life of an immortal is a dreadfully lonely one, for it is marked by an eternity of watching the ones you hold dear grow old and leave this world, drifting away like echoes of a song in the breeze while you remain unchanged,” he began, his voice carrying an unbearable weight to it, one that endured centuries of loneliness and sorrow. “Not being able to experience the love you desire so much for such a long time can be really hard, and it can make you do unspeakable things, desperate to find someone who can stay with you for more than just a fraction of time.”

Your hands balled into fists. “So you decided to restrict my freedom because you wanted to be loved? You’ve been alive for so long, yet you never learned how to properly get into a relationship?”

He pulled away to have a proper look at your face. “When you say it like that, you make me sound like a loser.”

“Probably because you are.”

“How rude.”

You huffed. “Don’t you have any friends?”

His face softened. “Yes, I do have friends. But if you’re asking me about people who have had a significant impact on my life like you did, then no—they have long since perished.” He tugged at the corner of his lips in an attempt to hide the sadness that had started spreading across his features. “It’s quite tragic if you think about it; being forced to live for eternity and not being able to form meaningful connections with people because they eventually pass away. You’d cry day and night, wishing you could have done something to make them stay by your side.” He gently reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face. “You’d think I would have gotten used to it by now, but it keeps hitting me like a wave every single time. Oh, they died, too.” He laughed wistfully. “Why? Why am I alone again?”

You didn’t say anything.

“You’re a very kind person, one that I am very fortunate to have met. I’ve never experienced the warmth and affection that you’ve shown me. I never knew what it felt like to be loved in such a way before.” He smiled sheepishly. “I wanted to be with you, [Name], but I didn’t know what else to do. All I knew was that the only way for me to prevent you from potentially falling in love with someone else was to bind you to me.”

“But that’s not how love works; it cannot be forced; it has to come from both people’s hearts willingly.” Placing your hands on his shoulders, you asked, “What did you do all this time that you were alive? Did you not learn anything?”

He gently brushed the back of his fingers against your cheek. “I learned that love is the most precious thing a person can have. As an Archon; immortality and power mean nothing; at least to me, they don’t.” His eyes softened, and he continued, “Of course, I don’t expect you to forgive me for what I’ve done—I can’t even forgive myself—but I hope that you at least understand my struggles.”

You glanced out the window; the sun was setting and the night sky was beginning to blanket the island in darkness. “Have you done something like this to anyone before?”

Venti’s eyes widened slightly at your question, and for a moment he said nothing. He looked around your room, seeming to take in his surroundings anew before focusing back on you. “No,” he replied simply. “I never clicked with anyone before.” He pulled you closer to him. “I did want to have a partner at some point—someone who I would love and who would love me in return—but I never so thought of doing this to anyone.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t really have any experience in… courting someone. So I did plenty of research on how to show the person I love that I had feelings for them by doing things like holding hands, hugging, giving presents, and such.”

To say that Venti had no experience with being in a relationship was an understatement. He had seen how others treated their love interests and was able to pick up on some patterns—the Windblume Festival was a particularly great time to learn about human love—but he also wanted to make sure he did not screw things up, so he took the time to read up on what he should do and how he should act. Sure, he was a master at writing love poems, but he was no expert when it came to managing his own emotions.

When he first began to develop feelings for you, his first thought was to make you a gift. It was the first thing he tried to do for his departed friend—to gift him the feather of a bird. So would gifting you a bunch of flowers show you how much Venti valued your presence in his life? Would cooking for you or taking you on dates to Windrise make you understand that he viewed you as more than just a friend? Would showing you that he was capable of protecting you make you less likely to push him away if his limits were tested and he had to take drastic measures? Guess not.

You raised an eyebrow in response. “Did that research also include kidnapping people?”

Venti looked away, quickly covering his mouth with one hand in an attempt to stifle the choked laughter that threatened to escape.

“Not funny.”

“It is kinda funny.” He looked back at you, checking your expression before quickly saying, “I mean, the way you said it, not the situation itself.” He shifted his body slightly. “I assumed you got my intentions, and that’s why you treated me with such kindness.”

“I treat everyone with kindness.”

“I’m sure I was the most, and that's why I thought that you wouldn’t be so opposed to what I did and would at least try and understand the position I was in.” He sighed. “Anyway. I actually took some time to plan this all out, but I ended up jumping into action way too soon, which is also the reason why I didn’t come up with an excuse to tell your family as to what could have happened to you. I admit I acted prematurely. I wish I didn’t let my intrusive thoughts win,” he paused and then added, “Tell me, did I do something against your will during your stay here?”

“No,” you admitted. “Because if you did, you would have been six feet underground by now.”

“Oh wow! That has got to be the best comeback I heard from you so far. Who did you learn this from?”

“He’s sitting right in front of me.”

Venti giggled. “Did you get anything else from me?”

“Not your insanity that’s for sure.”

“Do you think I’m too far gone? My ideals are still freedom, even after what I’ve done, that’s why I give you the freedom to go anywhere you want—within this realm, that is. If I were completely out of it, I would have kept you chained, but I don’t.”

“Am I supposed to be grateful?”

“I would be.”

You shook your head in disbelief. “You’re in fact far gone; you just don’t realize that.”

As much as he would have loved to put you in your place for your cheeky remark earlier, he had to control himself; you were still in the early stages of getting used to your new life.

His grip on your thighs tightened, a physical reminder of the power he held over you. “Hmph. Come to think of it, maybe I should have kept you chained when I brought you to the tower; a slip on my part,” he mused. “I almost got a heart attack when I came back and discovered you weren’t there.”

“Fuck you.”

Venti tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, his fingertips gliding against your cheek. “Don’t you think it’s a little bit early for that?” He giggled. “You know, judging our relationship before this whole situation, I thought you’d stay to listen to what else I had to say instead of doing your silly little escape. I really thought you’d have some compassion.”

A loud slap landed on his cheek, its sharp sound reverberating through the air. His head whipped to the side, and he felt the heat radiating off of his cheek like an open flame.

“Compassion?” you said through gritted teeth. “You made me think I was safe with you, and then you drugged and kidnapped me!” You lifted your hand to smack him again, but he was quick to get ahold of it. “You selfish piece of shit!” Your breath caught in your throat as tears began to roll down your cheeks. “When you took me to that tower, I didn’t fully register your motives, even after you explained them to me. All I thought was; what did I do wrong to deserve this? To be locked away?”

His heart tugged at the sight of you in so much distress; he tried cupping your face, but you knocked his hands away.

“Is this what I get for being nice to you?” You quickly swiped away the tears with the back of your hands. “You don’t deserve to be called the God of Freedom.”

“Do you really think I was going to let go now that I finally found the person I was looking for for so long?” He didn’t wait for you to answer; instead, he once again brought his hand up and gently wiped away your tears. “[Name], I wanted to be loved, too.” He wrapped his arms around you, holding you in a tight embrace. “I love you, so much,” he whispered softly.

You hiccuped a few times as the tears kept rolling down your cheeks. “I’m not saying you don’t love me, but trapping me here isn’t a good way of showing that.”

“You’ve been very distant with me, so it has been difficult to do that.” He leaned back, taking your hands in his. “Could you give me a chance? After all, I told you I’d make you happy, didn’t I?”

You hesitated, wavering between one state of thinking and another. “How are you going to do that?”

The answer was obvious, but he felt like teasing you.

“When two people love each other…”

You quickly covered his mouth with your hand, accidentally snorting a laugh. “I wish you’d shut up.”

That was not the real answer—at least not at this point in time.

His eyes looked intently into yours as though he were trying to hold onto the sound of that laugh forever, not sure when he would ever hear it again. He grabbed the hand that covered his mouth, brushing his lips against your fingers before kissing them one after the other. “I wish you’d make me.”

“Stop talking like that.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle. “Sorry, I was just trying to make you laugh.”

“That was supposed to make me laugh?”

“You just did.”

“I said shut up or I’ll end you.”

He laughed again. “You seem to forget I’m not human, and as such, there’s no way for you to get rid of me. But hey, there are other ways to stop me from talking,” he said as he pointed at his lips with a mischievous glint in his eye.

You stared at him with a blank expression on your face. “I’m done with the conversation.” You attempted to get off him, but he placed his hands on your waist, holding you still.

“Where are you going? We still have got to discuss a few things. First,” he said, holding up a finger, “No more hunger strikes. I don’t want you lying to me and saying that you ate when you didn’t. It’s painfully obvious anyway.” He grabbed your chin, directing you to look at him. His expression was stern, but it also had a hint of concern. “Did you hear me?”

“I wasn’t trying to hide it. I thought that you’d get tired of dealing with me soon enough and would end up setting me free. You can still do that, you know, I won’t tell anybody that their God has gone insane and went against his own beliefs by kidnapping a person.”

“How tempting.”

You huffed. “Why does the God of Freedom need to set rules anyway? What happened to go forth and establish a city of freedom without rule?”

Venti clasped his hands together, his eyes lighting up. “You’re such a devotee!” He giggled. “I totally understand what you mean, though, but sometimes rules are necessary; you humans just don’t seem to know how to behave properly sometimes.” His mind drifted back to the aristocracy that had taken over Mondstadt shortly after Decarabian's fall, ruling the region with an iron fist for 1.600 years. They went from being noble protectors to tyrannical rulers whose influence was spread far and wide.

“Ironic.”

“Alright, second rule; stop trying to kill me. Do you know how creepy it is to wake up in the middle of the night to see you standing beside my bed, holding a knife above my throat?”

“Mr. Big Anemo God Barbatos fears he might get his throat slit?”

“Hey! That won’t kill me alright, but I still feel pain, and you know that.”

“Oh, I sure know.”

“So?”

You hummed in thought, a yawn escaping as your exhaustion began to catch up with you.

“[Name]…”

“Yeah, okay, whatever.” Another yawn interrupted your reply.

“You look tired.” He smiled. “Why not rest your head on my shoulder?” He cocked his head to the side. “Or does your pride get in the way?”

“Keep pushing your limits; I don’t mind slapping you a second time.”

He wagged his finger from side to side. “One of these days I’ll have to properly punish you.”

There it was again; the clenching of your jaw and irritated swallow.

Defeated, you laid your head on his shoulder.

As soon as your body touched him again, Venti's breath hitched, and his grip on your waist tightened slightly. He felt his face heat up as his braids radiated a dim teal hue, resembling a flickering lightbulb. He looked into your eyes, his expression softening. “Giving up?” He sighed. “Oh, what am I gonna do with you…” He blew out a breath, pushing a stray lock of hair away from his eyes. “You sure have given me quite some trouble.”

Gradually, he began rambling about various random topics, like a song he performed on that specific day of autumn where he got plenty of tips and even a free bottle of wine. He recounted a funny incident where he had tried to dance on one of the tables of the tavern and then broke it, which prompted Diluc to kick him out of the building and leave him standing out in the rain like a wet rat.

As he spoke, he did not notice that your breathing had slowed and your eyes were gently closed. With a smile on his face, Venti finally fell silent. He looked down to find you asleep on his shoulder. “Did my speech bore you?” A soft chuckle escaped his lips. “You should have spent some time with a friend of mine; that old blockhead keeps on talking and talking about the same stuff every time!” He felt a sudden sting on his cheek. He reached up to touch it, but quickly flinched away. “I’m gonna have to use some ice on this…”

Venti slowly and gently stood up from the chair, cradling you in his arms, then walked towards the bed, careful not to make too much noise so as not to wake you up. He laid your head on the pillow and then tucked a blanket around your body, making sure it was snugly fit.

His gaze fell on your lips; they were slightly parted as the softest sighs left your mouth. They looked full and inviting, with just the slightest hint of a curve inwards at the corners. The hint of color made them all the more attractive—a hue that looked as if it had been painted on with care. He brushed his thumb against your bottom lip, slightly tracing it as his mind replayed his previous words; ‘I wish you’d make me.’

He chuckled to himself. “Maybe another time.” He leaned closer, his hand tenderly enveloping yours as he placed a light kiss on your forehead. “I love you.”

He watched you with bated breath, wondering if you would stir, if your features would relax or tense. He waited for a moment, for any sign, even the subtlest, that his heartfelt confession had reached you, but you were still just as peacefully dreaming as when he laid you on that bed.

#yandere #venti x reader #venti x y/n #yandere venti #lord barbatos #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader

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lovejosephquinn · 1 year

Note

submissive!joe tied up having you kiss him all over his body, teasing and edging until he’s begging

i beg 🫶🏻

The longest smut I think I've ever done. SUB JOE HAS A SPECIAL PLACE IN MY HEART AS OF TODAY.

Under 18's DNI - This is feral all the way through.

Word count: 3.2k

It wasn't a common occurrence for you to be on the opposite end of things, in fact Joe was almost always the dominant one and that's the way it had always been. Sat on the sofa one night watching aimless television before bed, Joe brought up the idea for you to switch roles, the mention of it coming from no where as he sipped at the last of his glass of wine. A secret fantasy alluded from no where in which you never knew existed. Turns out that he'd always dreamed of letting someone have their way with him without him having a say in the matter. You were of course, more than happy to oblige in his darkest of wishes.

It was also part of Joe's wishes to be tied up, hands and feet both separated so he was tied to each side of the headboard and at the bottom, enabling you to have better access to where you wanted to be at different moments. You'd even planned it for the next night just so that you got enough hours in the evening to have your fun; it was all you'd thought about for 24 hours.

He'd bought new items home on the day of said event, a full set including cuffs to fit his wrists and ankles, a blindfold if necessary, a cock ring with added vibrator for if you wanted to get really intense and out of everything, the thing that stood out to you most was the giant feather that brought the box to life. You knew you'd be using each product on him tonight and it was allowing you to get riled up just thinking about over stimulating him the way you wanted to.

You both took a soft non sexual shower together, washing down one another, laughing and giggling like nothing of the sort was about to happen, the splash of the warm water blasting from above you was able to relax you for the time being, yet in reality every fibre in your being was fired up and ready to dominate your man; you were just hoping it would live up to his expectations. As confident as you were, you were also quite nerved that you wouldn't serve the part as well as he usually did.

You made no attempt in conversation as you concentrated on moving around the bed to put Joe into his restraints, a smile which creeped onto your face when you'd completed the first full task alerted you to Joe's face which which was in the midst of gulping his saliva loudly down his throat.

Joe whimpered as you stood at the edge of the bed before him, chained and trapped for you to use his body as you pleased. He was the one that had asked for this, begged to be touched and exploited. You couldn’t help but feel the excitement of being able to do whatever you wanted, a claim him as your own type of situation. There was nothing off limits according to him and you'd understood the assignment from what he'd brought home with him especially for you to use, there was no doubt remaining, you were ready to pull out all the stops.

His eyes were still trained on you, glazed with a slight anxiety but overwhelmed with excitement as you bit down on your lip; analysing his strained movements.

You started off from his face, moving down to his chest which was lifting heavily from his difficulty in breathing, down to his stomach where his erection stood proud, slapped against his happy trail which almost made you salivate, your fantasies getting the better of you almost immediately. His thighs were almost shaking in anticipation, you were keeping him waiting and it was agonising to him; oh how the tables have turned.

You laid out the contents of the rest of the objects beside Joe before removing your towel that you still had around you, letting him take a view of one of his most favourite sights in the world before you took a hold of the blindfold. Joe immediately lifted his head up slight so that you could move the elastic with more ease for it to sit comfortably, before you completely shut his vision into darkness, you leaned back to reach full eye contact with one another.

"I hope you're going to be a good boy for me." You whisper, your lips inches away from his. Joe moves up in attempt to kiss you, but you move away making him flinch at the reaction he wasn't expecting. Puffing his lips out like a child you make a sudden giggle towards him which echoes into his ear drums, a sound so erotic his cock twitches from the very sound.

"Tell me that you will and who for and maybe I'll let you kiss me before this blindfold covers your eyes." Joe stayed silent and you slowly went to push it down over his lids, a startled grunt leapt from his lungs when he realised you were serious.

"Wait. I'll be a good boy, your good boy. I promise." You gave an acceptive nod towards Joe, taking in each word as it sprung from his lips, earning him a soft, subtle kiss which you could tell he wished would last longer from the way you heard the chains of the cuffs rattle from the sides of the headboard.

"You're not going anywhere." You hum a slightly more challenging noise of a high pitched chuckle when he pulls again for good measure to make sure the cuffs are definitely intact and that he well and truly won't be moving out of the place he's been situated. You kiss him once more before settling the blindfold over his eyes, his head tilts from side to side, trying to listen out for which side you're going to. Of course it's the side where the objects lay brand new, ready to be utilized for their purpose.

Resume back to Joe's lips parted, heavy breathing commencing. You climb on top of him, kneeling between his thighs, you move your hands forward to drag your finger tips from his shoulders, down his chest, tracing his happy trail and one sharp stroke of his length. He chokes out a over dramatic moan from not quite anticipating where you were going to go.

You move yourself upward so that you're looking at him square in the face, his lips look delectable, soft and highly kissable. Your hairs tied back so he doesn't get a hint of where you are, only the shallow breath you're trying to hide as you push your mouth down onto his again, the chains rattle from above your heads as he attempts another sudden move, jolting in desperation to try to touch you. As your tongue slides in it's like a motion that sets off Joe bucking up his hips to find exactly where your crotch is, he needs the friction and it's like you can already tell he's beginning to struggle playing the submissive one.

"It's really dark under here, can I get a peak baby?"

"No that's not what bad boys get." You tapped your hand against his cheek, earning a short smirk before his lips pressed into a line again. Rolling his tongue over his lips after being denied, he was quick to over step the mark with his response.

"I'm not bad, I'm a good boy. Good for you."

"So why did you try to grind yourself up against me?" You tapped the other side of his cheek, leaning your lips down to the right side of his ear, taking a nibble, hearing him huff a sigh of your refusal and his irritation of his attempted coping mechanism had failed.

"I slipped."

You bring your lips to his neck, grinding your teeth against the vein that presented itself to you in the way his body began to strain, a moan slightly followed from the way you use the bottom and top to clench his skin lightly between your pearly whites.

"Ugh, shit. Please mark m-me." You'd barely even touched him and he was a mess, it's a possibility that leaving this thought to go to each other's head was in fact a bad idea as he was already stuttering his words and you were already ready to just be fucked and be done with it, but you'd made a promise and you were going through with it no matter how long it took. Teasing him was your number one priority, edging him and denying his orgasm several times before you allowed him to finally.

You dug in to his neck further at his request, your teeth now fully sinking into his skin, your mouth sucking against him, tasting your way through his scent which engulfed both your senses of taste and smell. The way you sucked as if you were dying to gain an appetite for blood, you had his body squirming from just adhering to the wish of fully marking the skin you could sink into.

Your lips left soft pecks up around his jawline, back down his neck and onto his shoulders, pinning sloppy slurping sounds during every kiss you left on each cell of his body. Just as you reach his breast bone, your hand smoothly slides down his torso, taking a fist full of his length and writhing your hand in a steady movement, pulling his foreskin back and then up again several times repeated, causing Joe to make a sudden gasp at another unpredicted gesture. His hips suddenly bucking again makes you stop and he whines out loud. You feel a sense of power wash over you and you can't help but congratulate yourself in your own head, a mental high five that you've already got him in this state.

"I need it, touch m-me please, please."

"Stay still and you'll get more." You said it with such a stern tone yet there was a hint of sincerity if you listened hard enough.

You continued your journey downward, kissing between his chest, around his nipples, taking your time to move further, when you reached his stomach you made a mark just above where the happy trail begun, your hooded eyes watching out as his teeth bite down on his bottom lip from a wince of pain from the hard bite you unleashed upon him.

"Fucking hell." He moaned out an usually large exhale of air, trying to regain it back in his lungs as quickly as he let it out.

"You like that?" Not that you needed to ask such a rhetorical question.

"So. Fucking. Much."

You could tell, he was leaking so much, you weren't about to back down and let him cum anytime soon, this moment was yours and you were not ready to waste another second. Your tongue slides it's way down the happy trail, brushing against the side of his cock, making his body tingle, you hear the clatter of the cuffs from his ankles, he's trying to close the gap but his restraints won't let him.

You lean up and hover over him, making sure your breath hit just where he needed it, elating the ultimate tension between the two of you, especially himself. You'd like to think he has an idea of where this is going, your mouth almost pressed to his length, that's when you move away. Grabbing a hold of the feather that's laid waiting next to him, making contact on his sides, up and down, moans mixed with bursts of laughter arise. Chains are rattling in all four corners, he's trying his best to break loose to stop you from tickling him any further, but they won't give.

"Stay fucking still and then you'll get your reward."

"Please I can't take it." Joe pleaded with sharp breaths attached to it.

You fluttered it up around his neck, a wicked grin upon your features. Removing it, you replaced it with your fingers. Seeing him relax a little, you take it upon yourself to trick him and bring the feather back in it's place to torture him further.

"Baby- I- Fuck. Stop. Please!"

You tossed it to the side, edging yourself further along the bed and without warning, took a hold of his cock and began jerking hard. Joe was emitting large groans deep from the pit of his stomach, the top of your grip sodden with pre-cum.

"Yes, yes right there baby. Shit, don't stop." You did the opposite to his plea. Dropping the erection which was now as solid as a rock back to his stomach.

"Wait, no I-"

You sat upon him and immediately Joe felt the slick you'd created from such excitement as his cock wedged between your slit, you rocked your hips back and fourth, moaning yourself as the closer you got, the more his tip elevated slightly touching your clit, you massaged your own nipples, moaning out his name from the friction of the movement, the wait had never felt this good. As much as you were teasing Joe, you were also exasperating yourself.

Whilst you continued your grind, you leaned over to grab the last object you'd not yet used. Lifting yourself off, you manoeuvred into an easier position at kneeling point where you'd first started between his thighs. Joe knew at once what you were doing when you placed it where it needed to be.

"Oh shit, this is where it all ends for me darling."

"You won't cum until I say so, got it?"

Not that he didn't understand your question, it very much sounded like he was against the idea. You left switching on the vibrator for the time being, watching him nod his head briefly, staying silent from the inevitable.

You settle forward, lifting his cock up once more and lick a stripe from the base to the tip.

"Yes, you know I love it when you suck-"

"Shut the fuck up." You warn him, trying to remain the dominant one at all costs, it's just so out of nature for it being the other way around that he's losing all control of subbing for that split second.

"Shit I- I- I forgot my place, I'm sorry baby."

With that, you took his tip in through your lips, heavily moving against it, making sure your lips clenched around it to really make him feel what you're giving out. Moving down and taking a couple of inches in, pushing the tip into your cheek, you felt him begin to rut his hips up against you, not giving in, you gathered your hands to his thighs and pushed all your weight down to stop him from continuing.

"I need to cum, please."

With your mouth full you ignored him, he knew the drill and understood that even though he needed to, he wasn't to do so. You pushed your thumb against the vibrator, turning it on and moving your head even further down. Your lips felt the tremors against the vibrations and Joe's sounds were borderline pornographic, his knuckles were turning white from the way he squeezed his own hands, his toes curling from the intensity of the notion.

"Oh fuckkkk, oh my fucking god, yes, fuck."

You take all you can in, his tip now touching your tonsils and through the juddering you can physically feel the way that every muscle Joe has is shaking with over stimulation. You cup at his balls, massaging and squeezing. You're so surprised at his determination and concentration in not releasing before you let him, he's straining and tears are seeping out, wetting his eye lashes.

Removing him from your mouth, you sound out clear as day for him to hear. "You've got two options, either I ride your face or I ride your cock." Joe's lips are parted and only etches of breath are forced out, no words, no sounds just huffing and puffing.

"Well?"

"Both."

Both is good. You climb over him and slam your cunt straight down onto his mouth, his muscle instantly getting to work, tasting what he'd been craving this whole time. Joe's already admitted to you before that he's addicted to your pussy, the way it looks and the very flavour of it. You begin to crumble instantly, rubbing around him, dampening the lower half of his face with your slick.

You feel the moment his tongue pushes it's way into your hole and you begin to mount over him, clutching at the headboard to try to gain more, impossible as you're already practically suffocating him from pressing yourself down all you can. He fucks your hole like a professional, dipping in and out of you at a rapid pace, he's savouring every second he gets to gain that tiny bit of control; after all you're only using him for the orgasm.

You quickly reach breaking point when the knot in your stomach gives way, you release straight into his mouth and quickly jump off, your thighs palpitating from the ferocity. As much as you wanted to ride it out and feel the full effects, this was about Joe and you quickly clambered down to the still vibrating cock ring, edging him over and over, little buzzes which shocked the solidity of his erection.

"You've been such a good boy for me Joey."

"I- n-need t-to c-cum s-so bad." He sobbed out, literal tears forming now, staining his cheeks.

"Soon." You bite down on your lip, getting into position and sink downward, his cock stretching your tight little hole just the way you like it.

"Your fucking pussy will be the death of me baby." He cries out. The way the cock ring vibrates in unison to your bouncing movements have every bone in his body aching, including the one inside of you which is ready to explode.

"Not a bad way to go." You lean forward, moving the blindfold away from his eyes, letting him see exactly what he's been missing. Joe squints when the light hits his eyes but they move straight to watching how his cock fills you with every thrust.

"Cum, you've done so good for me."

"I-I can cum?! Yes, yes. Fuck, please. Fuck. Yes." He lets go the second he screeches out the last word, exploding inside of you, heaps of his seed filling you and leaking out everywhere, making a chaotically pleasing mess between you both.

"Holy fucking shit baby." It's like his soul has completely left his body and he's just lifeless, all weight lifted as he relaxes himself completely against the bed, his hands and feet falling limp against the cuffs.

After riding out his orgasm and bringing him back down to reality, you climb off him, not worried about the mess that's currently dripping out of you. Leaning over to give him the sweetest and most gentle kiss as you put the dominant goddess trait to the side, becoming the all important darling girlfriend he loves and cherishes.

"You. Are. Amazing." Joe was still in the midst of getting the oxygen back into his lungs. As you undid the cuffs and removed him from his confinement, he grabs a hold of you bringing you down to lay on his chest, giving you a gentle squeeze in a silent thank you for bringing his fantasy to life, not just the fact he probably needed to stretch from being in that position for so long.

"So the role reversal will happen again?" You giggled.

"Maybe. But I'll be definitely using these cuffs to get you back."

#joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn fluff #joseph quinn angst #joseph quinn fanfiction

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nevermeyers · 2 years

Text

» Comforting you scenarios

— featuring: izana kurokawa, rindou haitani, ran haitani, sanzu haruchiyo

— gender neutral, no skin color mentioned, no weight or height references. no general warnings; blood and weapons are mentioned in Sanzu's part.

— fluff, hurt&comfort

— Izana Kurokawa: Izana has never been good with emotions. Maybe that's why he hates them, because he is able to feel them in other people to the point of getting overwhelmed and walking away. Izana feels too much and the first thing he does when he notices that you're not okay is stand still, looking at you without an expression.

He may not understand you as well as someone else would, he may not even be the best at comforting people, and he'll torture himself for it by not feeling good enough for you. However, he tries. If it's about you, he will always be trying to change, understand you and understand himself. So he takes you by the hand and you sit together on his couch.

"Look, when I feel bad..." he says, looking at the fish tank on the counter across from him. "... I just look at them. They're colorful, and all of that"

He hasn't let go of your hand. You notice the tension in his body, which he tightens without realizing it. You nod slowly, your face still sticky with tears. Izana's profile is also nice to look at, with his upturned nose and a curl falling across his forehead. So, you look at the fish tank. You count five of them in your head and you can see your reflection, as well as Izana, who is looking intently at the animals.

The fish move slowly in their artificial habitat. Their colors are bright and their tiny black eyes stare at you with curiosity. Reds, blues, intense magenta, precious hues enclosed in small bodies that harmonize in a constant coming and going in the water. The bottom of the tank is decorated with artificial algae and stones, logs with holes for them to hide, also starfish figures. You know Izana takes great care of his fish.

The quiet sound of bubbles accompanied Izana's words. "I don't know what you're going through, but I'll be here, okay?"

Looking at Izana was as relaxing as looking at the fish. He's always so careful when you're together. He invites you to lay your head on his shoulder and you do. "I don't want you to be alone," he finishes, raising your hand to kiss the back of it. He surrounds your body with his arm, gently touching your waist to get closer to him. And he leaves another kiss on your head.

Izana stayed by your side all afternoon, surreptitiously watching you through the reflection of the tank.

— Rindou Haitani: The first thing Rindou received was a message. The second thing that happened was that he was at your door, ringing the bell like the world was ending.

Even if you told him it was no big deal, he insisted that you needed a break from whatever you were doing. What was unexpected was that you burst into tears while he was picking up the things you had been working on. Rindou turned to you when he heard a tiny sob and you instantly covered your face, turning your back on him.

Rindou didn't hesitate for a single moment to approach you, so worried that he didn't take into account that you might not want to have physical contact. Still, that was all you ever needed, and your boyfriend gave it to you without you having to ask. It was something as simple as it was beautiful, a gesture of affection that other people gave as if it were nothing: Rindou hugged you.

Rindou's hugs are different from the rest. He starts out soft, because he doesn't know if you're comfortable with that, and then when you rest your forehead on his shoulder and cry at him, he hugs you tighter.

His hands move past your waist, running up and down your back. You never knew what caress was until your boyfriend showed it to you the first time he hugged you, early in your relationship. And the rest of the times were as unique as they were special, because only he could make you melt like that.

“It's okay, I promise. I'm here, I'm here for you...” he says, pressing his nose to your hair, he places a kiss on your head. “You always try so hard... You have to take care of yourself too, you know?”

His body fits yours perfectly. You put your hands near his shoulder blades, you don't want to let go, you don't want him to let go. Maybe Rindou is right and you are overexploiting yourself.

"You need to rest, come on," he whispers, without letting you go. He only pulls back a bit to grab your face, watching you closely “Let me take care of you”

Rindou has always been like this. If you have a problem, he doesn't hesitate to make you a meal, to clean your house a bit for when you come back from doing your chores. He knows where the spare set of keys is, under the mat at the entrance, and sometimes he waits for you inside, without even warning, just to see your excited little face.

He loves pampering you. He loves spending time with you and taking care of you, although many times he doesn't admit how much he likes being by your side, simply sharing the silence. He could look at you for hours, caressing you without saying anything, just thinking how wonderful you are and how lucky he was to meet you. That's why it hurts him that you're having a hard time and that you don't tell him.

Rindou has the best solutions for emotional exhaustion and in just a few minutes you are both lying on the bed. He has brought the Nintendo Switch that you gave him for his birthday and from which he has not taken off until then. He likes video games and spends most of his free time playing them.

His comfort game is Mario Kart and he likes to share it with you. You cuddle up together, taking the red and blue controls, but his arm stays over your shoulders for a while, touching your hair softly. That would be enough to distract you from reality for at least a while.

"There's that smile I know and love" He laughs, touching your side to make you laugh, when you left him behind in the game. “It looks so good on you”

Rindou loves to make you smile with his little details. Sometimes he buys you flowers on days that aren't special, except that they are for him, just to see your expression of happiness. Take you by the hand on the street and turn you around, as if he were dancing with you, when you go together through a park, on a night walk. He is so considerate that his heart aches every time he sees that you are not fine, when he believes that he cannot do anything about it.

"I wish I could make you smile more," he whispers, afraid of not being enough.

— Ran Haitani: Ran has always been a very quiet boy. However, that calm look doesn't determine what happens inside him when he opens the door of his apartment and finds you on the other side, with your face streaked with wet traces as a result of tears.

He frowns, he looks you up and down before letting you in, but he doesn't say anything. Even when the minutes pass and he offers you a cup of tea, he doesn't ask. He is respectful of whatever is on your mind and he will never pressure you to tell him what is going on. Still, he is quite a perceptive person. He can imagine what it is.

Maybe it was that test you said you studied so hard for, and he hates it when your effort doesn't result in the goals you have; Or maybe you went shopping at the mall and couldn't find sizes for the clothes you liked. On the other hand, your boyfriend is clear that if the reason for your sadness is that someone hurt you, he will destroy them and leave them tied to a post in the middle of the road, but he won't say it, not out loud.

“It doesn't matter what it is about. Stay a while longer, please,” he asks, when you apologize for showing up. Ran takes your hand and squeezes lightly, making you sit down next to him on the sofa in the living room.

The light enters through the window, illuminating your face while you try not to let the sadness show in your expression. You try not to worry him, but his presence calms you down. That is exactly why you searched for it. Your boyfriend is someone you can be yourself with, knowing that he won't judge you, that he won't pressure you to talk. Ran is attentive and delicate, he doesn't let go of your hand and he offers you some pastries that he bought that same morning at the supermarket.

You manage to entertain yourself with him for a while. You both had lunch. You would do it quietly if Ran wasn't so nice to you. He starts telling you about other things to help distract you and make you smile. He tells you about a new hair product that he thinks will work great for you, as he slowly walks over to you to put his arms around your shoulders and pull you towards him. You allow yourself to be hugged affectionately by Ran, closing your eyes and listening to him speak. "Also, I went to buy some masks from a Korean brand that I discovered through a YouTube video, do you want us to try them together?"

Spending time with Ran was the best thing in the world. He made you feel special and unique with his gestures, with the things that you only shared with each other and no one else. You end up sitting on his bed, facing each other. You place the mask on Ran's flawless skin, stroking his features to better adhere it to his face. He wears his hair down and when he opens his eyes, he looks at you with that spark of love. Sometimes you wonder what you did to deserve him.

You try to smile, a pang of concern in your chest. That note in the exam, that size of more or less in the store, continue to affect you. Ran is aware of this and holds your chin when you are about to break. He respects your limits, yeah, precisely because he knows where they are. He can't stand to see how you keep things so as not to bother him.

“Hey, it's okay,” he says, stroking your cheek. “Everything will be alright, I promise you, babe”

You nod, apologizing again. You can't help but lower your head as your tears spill again. You're so embarrassed about this. You hug yourself, looking for that harmful comfort that being alone gives you. But, Ran won't let you face things alone. Even if he knows you'll be slow to tell him what's going on. He walks over to you and wraps you in a soft hug. You let yourself be done, while he accommodates you next to him. Ran sits up with his back against a cushion, with you lying next to him. He takes one of your hands and places it on his chest, caressing your side. He cocks his head to the side to press a kiss into your hair.

"It's okay," he repeats, because he's not a genius with his words, but he tries. “I know you try and that's enough, you are enough. I love you”

You feel the beating of his heart on the other side of the fabric of his shirt.

— Sanzu Haruchiyo: Sanzu's blue eyes darken rapidly. “I'll kill whoever did this to you,” he growls, grabbing your wrist to drag you into his apartment.

You sniff, smiling weakly. Sanzu is so abrupt that he barely even noticed you didn't take off your shoes when you entered. He just pulls you into his room, not caring what the fuck is going on outside. Your hair is soaked with rain, you have a small scratch on your cheek from slipping in a puddle and falling to the ground. You try to say something, but you don't know what. He sits you on his bed and looks at you intently, you can see a hint of deep concern in his eyes. As much as Sanzu tries to come across as a tough guy, the truth is that he easily gets emotionally overloaded.

“What happened?” Sanzu asks, grabbing your face gently. Those hands had touched guns and knives, dripped blood on the floor, and yet he touches you like you're made of cotton. “You can tell me, I'm here for you”

Your boyfriend always cares about you, maybe a little too much sometimes, but he always makes sure you're okay. You know that if you don't tell him what's going on with you, he'll most likely jump to his own conclusions and do something crazy. So you do, you tell him in a small voice what happened.

And he listens to you, kneeling in front of you, stroking your hands and nodding silently, giving you space to speak, without interrupting. He looks at you fondly, he squeezes your hand every time he hears your voice break and he sees those pearls of tears spilling down your face. When you cry, he gets up and cups your cheeks, gently brushing away the tears with his thumbs.

"Okay, okay, don't cry," he says, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear. “We're gonna get out of this, okay? Let's fix it, together we can do it”

Sanzu is ready for anything. He seems to be the kind of guy who will drop everything he's doing to pay attention to you. You are his world, the first person who knew how to see who he really was, the first person who knew how to appreciate and love him even with all those scars, those inside and those outside. Sanzu will never forget all the times he felt good by your side, the first and the last, the beautiful ones and the difficult ones, and he won't let you down no matter what.

He places a kiss on your forehead, and kneels again. He grabs your ankles and takes off your shoes as he thinks of something to make you feel better, before coming up with a solution. The first thing was to make sure your tears stopped falling.

"You're stronger than you think, you know?” he says, taking off your shoes and setting them aside. Then he will clean up what has been dirty. “But, it's okay to cry. Don't cover yourself.” He smiles, seeing that you put your hands to your face to hide.

So, he leaves you space. It's subtle, he doesn't say it directly, but he wants you to think about it alone before talking more in depth. Sanzu takes advantage of those minutes to give you a towel and clean the floor that has been dirty with your shoes. The air smells good and his room is as neat and clean as ever. His bed has that pink stuffed animal you gave him for his last birthday. Sanzu and you love pink things and between the two of you you have a great collection. The memory of you two buying matching keychains made you smile. He is truly wonderful.

When he comes back, he gives you one of his sweatshirts. You stop smelling like rain and cold to smell like him. You know he smokes sometimes, but he only does it in his work clothes and tries not to bother you with the smoke. That's why his clothes smell good, they smell like fabric softener from the washing machine that leaves fabrics soft and comfortable.

"Do you feel comfortable in that?" he says, putting a hand on your knee. “It looks good on you.” He points to the sweatshirt.

You nod, thanking him for the gesture. Sanzu smiles and grabs the stuffed animal to put it on your head. He tilts his head, touched, and grabs your face. He runs his thumbs down your damp cheeks, touching the tip of your nose with his. "Remember you can do anything," he encourages you.

Little kisses spread across your cheeks. Sanzu laughs as the stuffed animal falls to the side.

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broodybuck · 2 months

Text

A Lending Hand | Series Part 5

Series Summary: When Steve finds out what Bucky's been doing behind closed doors, he's happy to lend a hand. He's willing to do whatever it takes to find how much of the Bucky he knew is still left.

Series Tags: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes | Rated E | Tags: 18+ explicit smut, recovering Bucky, post cacw, denial of feelings, handjobs, first time, Avengers tower, no refractory period, power bottom Steve, top Bucky

[Masterpost] // [ao3 link]

[PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4]

It's so crazy to Steve that this has become so normal. Making out with Bucky.

Sometimes, it doesn't feel real until he's there and it's happening. Like right now, they're making out and it's so good. The deeper the kisses get, the more intoxicated Steve feels.

His head is a little too dazed, sometimes he gets so lost in it especially since Bucky started using his tongue. God, Steve loves when he uses his tongue.

He's not thinking, he's drunk on it all, when he hears himself mumble out, "Wanna ride you."

Bucky stops, backs away, and looks at him.

In normal circumstances, Steve would apologize and try to carry on but he's currently breathing too hard. He's hot, his face is flushed, his body's turned on and well, it wasn't a lie. It's what he wants so badly, he can't even bring himself to apologize for it.

"How?" Bucky questions.

Steve gulps, his face burns hotter.

"Uhm, like physically ride your— you know, cock. We'd have to prep me first," Steve says and when Bucky doesn't respond right away he keeps rambling.

"We don't have to, of course. I'm sure that's too fast. We just started kissing. Oh god, I'm getting way ahead of myself, aren't I? Don't listen to me. Let's just keep kissing, alright?"

Steve leans forward but pauses when Bucky doesn't lean the rest of the way in. Steve sits back again feeling like an idiot. He may have ruined this whole thing. He waits a long stretch for Bucky to finally say something.

"I think..." Bucky considers. "You should."

"Should what?" Steve asks.

"Ride me."

Steve's eyes bulge out of his head and his body reacts heavily to the idea.

"Okay, I'd love to," Steve says in three octaves higher than usual. Bucky's eyebrows raise at the unusual pitch.

"And I can prep you," Bucky decides.

"Well, um, you'd have to use your fingers."

Bucky stares down at his hand, specifically the metal one which is giving Steve some very bad ideas.

"Okay, I'll try," Bucky says uncertainly.

Steve's overwhelmed right now enough that instead of answering he just rushes forward to kiss Bucky's lips again. Thankfully, Bucky kisses him back after a surprised huff.

They resume making out heatedly and naturally, Steve glides his hands down Bucky's body. Along his sides, down his ribs, to his waist. Bucky doesn't protest, he tries to hold Steve in return but his touch is so light it's less than a feather.

"I better get these off," Steve mumbles in between kisses before he finally tears himself away from the kiss to undress.

Bucky watches him, he looks nervous.

"Are you sure—"

"You have to tell me," Bucky interrupts. "Exactly how to do it."

"I will," Steve says with a shiver running down his spine.

And in no time, Steve's naked and lying on his stomach. Bucky's behind him with lube, staring at Steve's backside. Steve showed him the motions of how his fingers should move on Bucky's leg so he could see and feel it. Showing him how to press down, push in.

Bucky just nodded silently and then watched Steve turn around and spread his legs apart.

He waits now, not wanting to rush Bucky even though his cock is already drooling in anticipation against the comforter.

"It's not bad, just one finger at a time," Steve reminds him.

Finally, Steve feels pressure against his rim but not just pressure, a cool, smooth surface. He jolts, accidentally, because it's the metal hand.

"Sorry," Bucky murmurs.

Bucky hesitates but then he presses a metal fingertip against the rim again. He smears the lube around which is also chilled to the touch and makes Steve shiver.

With a guy so worried about using his hands, he seems to have no qualms about going straight in with his prosthetic hand. The metal makes the fingers larger and thicker. Steve can already imagine how good that's going to feel.

Finally, Bucky pushes one finger in down to the first knuckle and Steve moans. Yep, it's better than Steve expected.

"You like that?" Bucky checks.

"Yes."

Bucky moves his finger in and out, then experiments with pressing down as Steve showed him earlier.

"Ahgn— okay, add another," Steve huffs happily.

"You said one at a time," Bucky argues, finger pausing mid-motion.

"To start, but I need more. Two fingers, Buck," Steve whines. "It's good, I'm okay, I promise."

Bucky hesitates but slowly presses a second finger in alongside the first. With Bucky using his prostheses, the fingers are larger and thicker. It's better than Steve expected.

Bucky resumes his movements with both fingers now.

"You can— spread them," Steve pants and squeals a little when Bucky does so.

"Yeah, yeah, gahhd. Three now," Steve pleads.

"Three?" Bucky sounds astounded, his hand halts again.

"Trust me, gotta fit your cock. Need three, Buck, please."

He hears Bucky let out a shaky breath at that. Steve flushes from the sound, from the fact that he's turning Bucky on. That he's the one causing a physical reaction and it's not just the serum that altered his body.

Bucky pushes in the third finger and Steve groans loudly with the intrusion. Bucky pauses.

"Okay?" he asks.

"Yes, yes good."

Bucky moves them, presses down, slides them in and out and it's all so good Steve starts rutting against the mattress.

"Why are you doing that?" Bucky questions.

"Feels too good, wanna come," Steve mewls.

There's a pause and then, "Then come."

Bucky says it very matter-of-factly, but it's still enough. Just the allowance, just the fact that Bucky's fingers are inside him getting him off, Steve lets go and comes on the comforter.

He's breathing heavily when he feels Bucky remove his fingers.

"Can you still ride me now?" Bucky asks.

Steve turns around with a wild smile.

"You know I can."

Bucky blinks with surprise like he was expecting a no.

Steve pushes onto his knees, grabs Bucky's face, and kisses him hard.

"I want this so much, Buck. You have no idea how much I want this," Steve says and kisses him again.

Bucky starts kissing him back and his fingers trickle along his sides which tickle since they're covered in lube.

"Sit back," Steve instructs him, pointing to the headboard.

Bucky seats himself exactly where Steve directed him. Bucky's still clothed, never bothered to take anything off, but now he excitedly opens the fly of his jeans and pulls out his cock.

Steve bites his lip, never imagined he'd see Bucky so excited — for him. He crawls over to Bucky and straddles him, hovering above his hard cock for a moment.

"This," Steve says, framing Bucky's face in his hands so he looks up at him. "Is going to feel really good."

He sees Bucky swallow and then nod, his eyes fluttering shut as if preparing himself. Steve can tell he's turned on, can see how much he wants this. And with that realization, Steve easily sinks down onto his cock.

He takes each inch slowly especially because Bucky sharply inhales. Then Bucky moans, trying to swallow back the sound but once Steve sits at the root, Bucky moans so openly and beautifully, Steve smiles like a buffoon.

Bucky throws his head back, his eyes shut tight and his mouth drops open. Steve takes the opportunity to kiss his neck, sucking all new spots as he begins to move his hips.

Bucky grabs onto Steve's waist so forcefully it startles Steve but he keeps kissing his neck, keeps rocking back and forth. Until Bucky lets out a wounded cry and Steve realizes he's already coming.

Steve slows down, watching Bucky bask in the aftermath of his orgasm.

Then Bucky opens his eyes and sighs.

"Sorry— that was— uh, felt better than I—" Bucky stumbles over his words.

Steve just kisses him.

"I can keep going, you're still hard," Steve breathes.

Bucky just nods frantically and grips Steve's waist even tighter.

After that, Steve rides him for real. Fast and full on until they both come again and it's everything. Everything. Steve's officially made it to heaven.

They're both calming down on the bed afterward. Steve has a permanent smile glued to his face. He rolls over and kisses Bucky's shoulder, nuzzling his face against him.

"Shouldn't I have asked you to dinner before all this?" Bucky says.

Steve laughs and picks his head up.

"These days, people date so casually. This is probably more typical now."

"Really?"

"Yeah, apparently dinner and flowers are old-fashioned now," Steve shrugs.

"Huh." Bucky sits pensively thinking this over.

"So I definitely shouldn't start calling you doll, then," Bucky notes almost to himself.

Steve smiles so hard, he needs to bite his lip to reign himself in. He kisses the man's shoulder again.

"I'd love if you did, sweetheart," Steve croons.

Bucky looks at him and smiles. Then he turns to the ceiling and shrugs.

"I'll think on it," Bucky responds with a smirk still lingering at the ends of his lips.

It's the first time Steve is sure he's teasing him.

In eighty years, his best friend is finally teasing him again. This is the best day of his life.

#stucky #stucky fic #stucky series #series part 5 #stucky smut

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