#Strade btd x reader smut | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yam-writes · 3 years ago

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it's a cat - strade x reader merry christmas :) it's a cat! Rating: Explicit Relationships: Strade (BTD/TNR)/Reader Tags: Stockholm Syndrome, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Blow Jobs, Oral Fixation, Extremely Dubious Consent, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Hair-pulling, Unhealthy Relationships, Emotional Manipulation, Porn, Shameless Smut read here or on ao3

The squeezing made it hard to breathe. He held on tight when he slept, treating you more like a pillow pressed against his chest than a person. When he was awake he had a bad habit of pulling you into a gross excuse for a hug and squeezing so hard you thought you were going to suffocate. You flailed your arms against his sides and grabbed at the back of his shirt to pull him off, but he would just squeeze harder. That didn’t change in his sleep, either. He would pull you to him, burying your face in his chest as his arms crushed your back. You were positive that one of these days he was going to break your ribs.

But that was bearable. His grip would usually loosen and you could turn over and press your back against his chest instead of your face, his arm hanging loosely over your side. The worst part about sleeping with Strade was the snoring. It started immediately after he went to sleep, his mouth pressed right against your ear. It didn’t matter if you turned around, moved your head, inched further away from him, his unclear nose was always making him being asleep as horrifying as him being awake. It’s like he couldn’t even leave you alone when he wasn’t conscious, always hellbent on deteriorating every part of your head until your brain was just a pile of mush above your eyes.

So if you didn’t manage to fall asleep before he did, it was a guarantee that you would be staring at the ceiling for hours into the night. It didn’t matter if you told him to turn over, pushed him onto his side, shoved his face away from yours, there was no hiding from the snoring. All you could do was wait for the few minutes when he stopped and hope you could fall asleep fast enough before he started again.

Besides Strade’s mouth, the rest of the house was always quiet. There was never any noise coming from outside (the neighbors were good), and there was never any noise coming from the inside, either. Because of the stillness, your ears had gotten used to the usual sounds, and even over the fan that was whirring softly and the man that was snoring loudly, you could make out when something was different, when a sound was out of place.

And you had definitely just heard an out of place sound coming from somewhere inside the house.

Your whole body stiffened. You froze, shifting your eyes towards the door. You held your breath, waiting to see if the sound came again. After a few seconds, you heard it, a crash just loud enough to be concerning. This time you jumped up, raising yourself up on your elbows and leaning forward slightly. You squinted at the door, trying to make out something in the dark. Your eyes focused and unfocused, making up shapes and figures where they didn’t exist. You shook your head, trying to clear your mind so you could find something.

Your arms began to shake from holding yourself up, and even though your eyes were adjusted to the dark, you weren’t having any success in catching whatever was making the noise or even in hearing any more noises. You swallowed, turning over to face Strade.

“Hey,” you whispered, reaching out and letting your hand graze over his shoulder. You planted your palm on him and pushed slightly.

You swallowed when he didn’t move, shifting on the bed. “Strade,” you said a little louder, pushing him harder.

His shoulder moved at your touch and then his entire body shifted as he turned onto his back. He groaned, smacking his lips together, but otherwise didn’t wake up. He raised his arm above his head.

“Strade,” you whined, stretching out the syllable. You moved your hands to his other shoulder and pushed, rocking him back and forth. “Strade!”

He grunted and moved his arm down, rubbing his forearm against his eyes. He moved again, bending his arm and bringing his other hand up to push his fingers into his eyes. He let out another noise and then moved again, turning over onto his other side.

You let out a groan and shoved him again, saying, “Strade!”

Strade let out a sigh and pressed his palms against his face.

“What?” he grumbled, his back still facing you.

You swallowed, his tone scaring you a bit. You had never woken him up before. For one, him being asleep meant that he wasn’t bothering you and two, he always looked like he was enjoying sleeping quite a bit, and you were afraid of what he would do if you interrupted that.

You glanced at the bedroom door and then turned back to Strade. You stared at him, your eyes wide as you pressed your palms on his shoulder.

“I heard something,” you mumbled, pushing onto him slightly.

“No, you didn’t,” he said, his voice scratchy and low. He shifted, moving his shoulder up and down, trying to get your hands off him.

“I did!” you said, emphasizing your point, wanting him to know that you really did hear something. “Out there.”

Strade sighed. He turned over onto his back, forcing you to let go of his arm. You pushed yourself up completely, sitting on your knees. He laid there for a moment, his eyes closed. Then, he finally opened them, looking at you. He stared at you, not saying anything.

“I really did hear something,” you said, your voice lowering. “It sounded like something was moving around out there.”

Strade looked over to the door. He was silent for a second, but then he looked back at you.

“I don’t hear anything,” he said.

“Can’t you just go look?” you pleaded.

A smile slowly spread across his face. He pushed himself up, half sitting, holding the rest of his weight up with his arm. He leaned towards you, shoving his face into yours.

“Are you scared?” he asked, a crooked smile on his face.

You looked down, cringing away slightly because of the closeness. His glare was intimidating, and the tone of his voice made you think that there was something cooking up in his brain.

“Y-yeah,” you muttered, glancing up at him. You looked back down and swallowed. “I am scared.”

Strade reached his hand out, grabbing your chin and pushing up roughly, forcing you to look at him.

“Why are you scared?” he asked.

You stared up at him, your mouth half open. “Someone could be out there,” you said, the irony of the situation not escaping you.

Strade made a sympathetic noise, tilting his head. He moved his hand, cupping your cheek and rubbing his thumb over your lips. He stared down at them before his eyes flickered up to meet yours.

“Don’t you trust me enough to know that I wouldn’t let anything happen to you?” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

You swallowed. You did trust him. It was messed up, but you knew that, when it came down to it, Strade wouldn’t let anybody else do too much damage to you. He wanted to keep that for himself. You trusted Strade enough to know that he wouldn’t kill you. You couldn’t say the same about whoever could’ve possibly been in the house.

“I trust you,” you confirmed. “But it would just make me feel better if you checked.”

“It’s make you feel better?” he repeated.

You swallowed and nodded.

“Well, okay!” Strade said, moving his hand from your face. “I’ll do it to clear your conscience.” He tapped his finger against your forehead before scooting down, pushing you to the side as he climbed off the bed. He stood for a moment, stretching his arms above his head and letting out a small groan as he cracked his knuckles. You turned around on the bed, keeping your knees tucked underneath you. You felt so small, sitting there watching him nonchalantly stretch his sleepiness away while you could feel your heart beating against your chest at the possibility of something being in the house. You felt silly, like a little kid. You watched his shoulder blades move as he bent down, grabbing a pair of sweatpants from the floor and pulling them on. He turned back around and faced you.

“Even though you really don’t have anything to worry about,” he said, stepping towards you, a wicked smile on his face. He reached his arms out and grabbed your shoulders, towering over you. You looked up at him. “I’d never let anything bad happen to you.”

Sure, you thought, but you didn’t say anything. You just nodded.

It was silent for a few seconds as Strade continued to stare down at you, his hand rubbing against your shoulders. You could feel the friction from his palms on your skin, irritating the already abused spots. He had a bad habit of staring, a smile plastered on his face. You tried to look up at him, but his eyes were piercing into your soul and even though what he was doing should’ve been considered romantic, you could feel your skin crawling under his gaze.

But after a few seconds, you heard him take a deep breath in and then say, “You have to come with me, though!” as he grabbed your hand.

He pulled you off the bed, your legs still folded underneath you. When your upper body was successfully dragged off the bed, he let go of your hand, causing you to go tumbling onto the floor. You felt your body suspend in the air as you fell, giving you enough time to throw your arms over your face before you hit the ground. Strade stepped back, letting out a laugh as he looked down at you. You groaned against the floor, shifting your body and looking up at him.

“You want me to go with you?” you asked, sitting up slightly as you rubbed your forearms.

“Well, duh,” Strade said, being down in front of you. “If someone actually is out there, I don’t wanna be the only possible target.”

You let out another groan as you let your head fall towards the floor. You stayed still for a moment, only moving when you heard Strade say, “Get up,” the impatience apparent in his voice. You pushed yourself up and turned your head towards him. As you got to your feet, your legs shaking from the fall and the previous ever present abuse, you watched Strade grab a knife from the nightstand. He held it in his hand, looking at it for a moment before dropping it to his side, letting it dangle lazily from his fingers.

“Ready, puppy?” he asked, his hand on the doorknob.

He wasn’t really worried at all. This entire show was for you, and you were feeling the tinges of regret creeping up your body as your brain raced with thoughts of possibilities of what might exactly be the reason he was even putting on this show. But you just swallowed and nodded anyway.

“Great!” He said, beaming down at you. He turned the knob and opened the door. Then, he reached back and grabbed your shoulder. The hilt of the knife pressed against your shoulder and the blade was behind your head, narrowly missing slicing into your face (something that aws only able to be pulled off so skillfully by someone who was as well versed in knived as Strade).

You felt his hand grip your shoulder hard as he pulled you to him. At first, you thought that he was going to press you against him as you both searched through the house together, but then you felt your body move as he pushed you out the door. “You go first!” he said.

You stumbled out the door, waving your hands in front of you to keep your balance. You stilled, keeping your feet planted on the floor. Strade’s bedroom exited into the upstairs hallways, so you carefully craned your neck to look around. You squinted your eyes, trying to get them to adjust to the darkness. You didn’t see anything, and you couldn’t hear anything either, but you were still too nervous to step any further.

“Go on,” Strade said from behind you, then you felt both his hands on your back as he pushed you again.

You stepped into the push so you wouldn’t fall. You stood still, feeling your shoulder move as Strade brushed past you. Your head shot up, your eyes following him as he strode into the hallway. You watched him walk down, eye the corners, walk back up, check in the other rooms, anywhere that someone might be able to hide. He even checked in places where no one would be able to hide, eyeing you as he dramatically lifted a flower pot. You finally stepped out into the hallway yourself as Strade turned around and went into the other bedroom. You watched him check there, too, not finding anything.

“I told you there was nothing,” Strade said. He placed the knife on a small table in the hallway and walked back towards you with his arms spread, a shrug on his shoulders.

You looked at the floor, feeling a wash of shame. Then, you looked up and pointed towards the stairs.

“You didn’t check down there!” you whined.

“Come on, you have nothing to worry about,” he sighed. He sounded genuine, but you just needed him to look. You just did.

“Please just go check,” you said. “Please.”

Strade stared at you hard, sighing like a disappointed parent. He swallowed and then said, “Fine. You stay up here.”

You gave him a small nod then watched him turn around and walk down the stairs. You stood there, hugging your arms against your body and rubbing up and down, trying to soothe yourself. You didn’t know why you were so frightened. Realistically, you shouldn’t have gone to Strade for support. He was the very person you should be running from, but he was all you had and you needed him. Plus, obviously he wouldn’t let anything happen to you.

You waited for him to come back upstairs, but after a few minutes, you heard the sound of raindrops pattering against the roof. You looked up, then towards the window that was at the end of the hallway. It was dark, but the street lamp outside gave you enough light to see the rain falling, getting harder and harder as the seconds passed. You could hear the sounds of a storm brewing, and you walked towards the window, completely transfixed. You heard the wind pick up, and pressed your hands on the glass as you watched the grass sway and listened to the wind chimes yell. You leaned in closer, pushing your face into the window so you could watch the storm pick up outside.

The sounds of the storm entered your ears and you watched in wonder as it picked up. You hadn’t been outside in what felt like forever. The only times you even stepped foot out of the front door was late at night when you were taking the trash out while Strade watched, and that was only a minute at a time. Otherwise, you were stuck inside. Though, Strade seemed to be getting more and more lenient with each passing day. He would leave the door open when he went on the porch, he would drag you outside to watch him grill something in the backyard, he would even let you lay down on the grass and point out the constellations. You could feel his trust in you growing, and that just made things even weirder. What exactly was the status of your relationship? Thinking about it too hard made your head hurt.

“It’s a cat,” you suddenly heard Strade’s voice say, making you jump as you were pulled out of your thoughts.

You pushed yourself away from the window, turning around and scrunching your eyebrows at his sentence. What did he mean by “it’s a cat?” Your question was soon answered, though, because as soon as you turned around you saw Strade standing in front of you with a white and orange cat in his arms. The cat looked at peace, perfectly content being pressed against Strade’s chest. His fingers scratched between its ears, and the cat raised up, pressing its nose against Strade’s. He jerked back instinctively, then smiled and let out a small laugh before continuing to pet the cat.

“A cat?” you asked, confusion evident in your voice. You stepped closer. You were a little hesitant, just because you were already a little jumpy, but you reached your hand out and let your fingers scratch atop its head, your fingers bumping into Strade’s. You couldn’t help but smile. “How did it get in here?” you said, the confusion turning from defensive to genuine curiosity.

Strade shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said. He flattened his hand on the cat’s head and stroked his palm down. The cat turned its head towards you and leaned in, sniffing your face. You let out a small laugh. “Maybe he slipped in somehow. Or maybe there’s a hole somewhere.”

You didn’t say anything, too focused on petting the cat. It moved in Strade’s arms and he shifted before pushing it towards you. You glanced up at him before letting the cat fall into your arms. You pet the cat, distracting it as Strade grabbed the collar around its neck.

“Collar says he’s from across the street,” Strade said. “I’ll go over there tomorrow and give him back.”

You finally tore your eyes away from the cat, looking up at Strade. He was staring back at you, a small smile on his face.

“What about until then?” you asked.

“I guess he’ll just have to hang out here with us tonight,” Strade said.

You couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across your face. You beamed up at Strade, letting out a small, happy gasp before turning back to the cat. You rubbed your face against his. It was such a good cat, not fighting to get away at all. You wanted to keep it, but you knew that he already belonged to someone else. Still, though, you were happy you could keep it for the night at least.

After a few more minutes, you felt Strade nudge your shoulder. “Let’s go back to bed,” he said.

You glanced up at him and then back down to the cat for a second, before hiking it up in your arms and turning around. You headed back to the bedroom, feeling Strade’s presence behind you. When you both had made it, he reached out in front of you and opened the door. You stepped inside and walked to the bed. You let the cat jump out of your arms and onto the bed. You watched as it sniffed around, watching the indentations of its paws on the mattress, before finally finding a spot and plopping down, right between the two pillows.

You turned around and smiled at Strade. He closed the door and then pulled his sweats down, kicking them across the floor. He walked past you, grabbing your wrist as he did and pulling you to the bed. You both climbed on, letting the cat stay settled between you. You laid your head down, reaching a hand up and petting the cat. You kept petting, but after a few minutes, Strade’s voice broke the silence.

“Do you feel better?” he asked.

You looked up and saw that he was staring at you. He was holding himself up on one elbow, his other arm hanging by his side. You swallowed and nodded.

“I told you I wouldn’t let anything happen to you,” he said, his voice sounding smug.

“I know,” you whispered.

Suddenly his arm was leaving his side and his hand was tangling into your hair. He pushed your head to his, pressing your foreheads together.

“I’ll always protect you.” His fingers gripped your hair harder causing your scalp to sting. He smiled a wicked smile at you. “You’re safe with me.”

You believed him.

You stayed like that for a few minutes, your foreheads pressed together, Strade’s fingers rubbing against your head the same way they had rubbed against the cat’s. Then, you felt his fingers tighten and you felt the pain of him grabbing a fistful of your hair and pulling.

“Since I did something for you,” he said, dragging your head downwards. You were forced to follow, otherwise your hair would come out in his hands, “you should do something for me.” He finally let go, causing your body to fall, your face hitting his thigh. His hand left your head as he shifted, pushing himself up on the bed so his upper back was pressed against the headboard. He eyeballed you, and you stared back, raising your head up. “Be good for me and suck my dick, okay?”

You gulped, glancing between Strade and the cat for a few seconds before looking back at his dick, already knowing what was going to happen. You didn’t really have a choice. If you didn’t do it yourself, Strade would just pull his underwear down, open your mouth, and fuck your face until you cried. He’d make it worse if you didn’t comply, and you weren’t really feeling like fighting him. You gave him a microscopic nod, and then raised up, moving between his legs.

Strade’s thighs flexed when you placed your hands on them. You ran your palms up his thighs, looking up at him through your lashes. He had one hand across his stomach, the other laid by his side. His fingers twitched with impatience as you slowly hooked your fingers into the waistband of his underwear and pulled down. He shifted, allowing you to pull off his underwear and toss them to the side. He bent his knees, spreading his legs so you would have easier access.

He wasn’t even hard. Maybe a little bit, but it wasn’t enough for you to just put his dick in your mouth and get this over with quickly so you could go back to sleep. He’s really going to make me work for it, you thought, swallowing the lump that was forming in your throat. You scooted back between his legs and got comfortable. You slid your palm across his shaft, grabbing the base and holding it up. His dick twitched and you could see it begin to grow as you leaned down and stuck your tongue out, placing the tip on it. You licked a circle around the tip of his dick and looked up at him. His tummy sucked in as he took in a sharp breath of air, his eyes closed and his head leaned back. He looked… cute. He looked at peace. He looked happy, but a different happy than he usually was. This happy was a content happy. You knew it wouldn’t last long, though. You were going slow, and soon he’d get impatient and just shove your face down until your nose hit his pubes. You figured you’d enjoy this seemingly intimacy for the moment, though.

You placed a wet kiss on the tip before leaning back and wrapping both your hands around the base. You pumped, feeling his cock grow in your hands. You listened to his breathing get heavier, letting out small groans as you slid your hands up and down lightly. After only a few minutes, you ducked your head back down and pressed the flat of your tongue on the underside of the tip. You let your lips wrap around for a second, sucking lightly, before moving his dick to the side and licking a stripe down the underside, across the thick vein that laid there.

Strade let out a low groan. You looked up when you heard movement. The arm that was laid across his stomach had moved, his palm flat against the mattress as he pushed himself up more, his elbow bumping into the cat. It jerked its head towards him and then moved, lying down on top of your pillow. Strade’s eyes followed yours as he glanced at the cat for a second before turning his attention back to you. You got your focus back, too, moving your head back to the tip of his dick. You moved your mouth against it, sticking your tongue out to lick at the precum.

When you finally wrapped your lips around him again, his other hand moved. You felt his fingers tangle into your hair and grip tightly. He pushed your head slightly, and you wrapped your fingers around the base so he couldn’t shove it all the way down your throat. You weren’t ready yet. You bobbed your head, letting him guide you. He was letting out groans that were getting louder and louder. You could feel his hips buck up every few seconds and whatever self control he was managing was about to be thrown out the window. Strade didn’t care about you when his dick was involved.

You sucked, spit dribbling from the sides of your mouth as his hand pushed you further and further down onto his dick. You tightened your throat and heard him grunt. You pumped the base lightly with your other hand, but that proved to be useless when Strade’s other hand left the bed and attached itself in your hair.

“Come on, I know it’s big, but you can take more than that, right?” Strade said, his hands gripping your hair tightly. You felt tears begin to well up from the pain on your scalp, but also from the fact that you hadn’t been let up for a breath of air for a while, only able to take in small breaths through your nose. “Good puppies take it all. You want to be a good puppy, don’t you?”

His voice was rough and your head was hazy with a lack of oxygen. You looked up at him, feeling a tear slide down your cheek. You gave him as much of a nod as you could before moving your hand away. You slid your hands under his legs, wrapping your fingers around his thighs so you would have something to grip onto when the inevitable happened. You barely had enough time to do that, though, before you felt his fingers grip even tighter, banging his knuckles against your head as he pushed down.

He moved your head by your hair, the sting making the tears fall faster. You gripped onto his legs, so tight that he might have marks in the morning. You felt the tip of his dick hit the back of your throat, then he pulled your head back and slammed it down again. He did this a few times until your throat was open enough for him to push himself in even further. You gagged, squeezing your eyes shut as he shoved your head down hard, his cock all the way down your throat.

Strade kept pushing your head until your nose hit your tummy. He stopped moving, and you looked up at him, a panic building up in your head. Your nose was full of his pubes, and your throat clenched around his cock, so if breathing was hard before it was almost impossible now.

No, not almost impossible. Actually impossible. You couldn’t breathe. Your eyes were wide as you stared up at him. You took a sharp breath in, but was met with no air. Your pupils were wild as you tapped against his thighs, trying to get him to let go so you could breathe. But he just kept staring down at you, a wicked smile tugging at his lips.

He moved one hand from your hair to your face, cupping your cheek. His other hand still gripped your hair, making it impossible to move. You really couldn’t breathe, and you could feel your face getting hot and your vision getting foggy. You felt his dick twitch in your throat as you felt slapping his tight, grunting and groaning around his dick, trying desperately to get him away.

“You look so pretty when you’re choking on my cock,” Strade said. He rubbed his palm against your cheek, swiping his thumb down to catch a dribble of your spit. “I think that’s the face you should always make. I think this is all you’re good for. Just made for me to shove my dick in, yeah?”

You let out a choked sob at his words. A few seconds later, his hand moved, pulling your head back. You released from his dick, a ling of spit trailing from your mouth and falling onto your chin. You let out a sickening cough, gasping for air.

“That has to be the prettiest sound in the world,” You heard Strade’s voice say over the sound of the blood rushing in your head and your own coughing.

You looked up at him. His eyes were heavy lidded and his face was bright red. His pupils were blown out as he stroked his dick, his hand pumping up and down. The smile on his face, the way his eyes stayed fixed on you, the way he licked his lips as groans left his mouth. His… pretty mouth. His pretty mouth that praised you, encouraged you, got you through the hardships. He got you through the hardships. You needed him to get you through the hardships, and he was always there for you. You swallowed.

“Come here,” Strade said.

You obliged, quickly crawling back between his legs. You looked up at him as you stuck your tongue out, feeling his cock press against it. When you felt the warmth hit your throat, you closed your mouth, wrapping your lips around the tip and catching every drop of his cum, swallowing it down. Strade let out a deep groan at the sight, his hand squeezing around his own dick. You leaned back, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you swallowed down the last of him.

Strade let his body fall against the headboard, his hands dropping to his sides. His chest heaved as he breathed in and out. He raised his hands and ran his fingers through his hair. You sat back on your knees, staring at him. He came, and now you wanted to hug him and press your body against his and feel all his warmth pressed against you. You didn’t even care if he snored or gripped onto you tightly, as long as he was holding you. All you wanted to do was bury your face in his chest and breathe him in until he was the only thing surrounding you.

Eventually, his eyes opened and landed on you. He jerked his head to the side, gesturing for you to come to him. You wasted no time, immediately crawling towards him. The cat sat on your pillow, but that just gave you an excuse to press yourself against Strade more. He raised his arms slightly, allowing you enough room to slide in, placing your head on his shoulder. You wrapped your arm around his tummy and squeezed, causing him to squeeze back. You didn’t even care, though. He grabbed the blanket with his other hand, pulling it around the two of you.

You were snuggled against Strade, your eyes closed and your brain on the edge of sleep when you felt something furry touch your arm. You opened your eyes and saw the cat pushing itself between Strade and you. It laid down under your arm, and you moved your hand and placed it on the cat.

“I think he likes you,” Strade said, a laugh leaving his lips.

You looked up at him, your eyes wide and a smile on your lips. “You think so?” you asked, your voice getting slightly higher.

Strade nodded. “Maybe we’ll have to get one of our own.”

“Really?” you exclaimed, raising your head. The excitement already filling your head.

Strade let out a laugh and then rubbed your shoulder. He threw his head back to let the laugh really leave him. “Go to sleep.”

You grumbled before letting your head fall back against his chest. He was probably just saying that, and besides, a cat was too much trouble. But the knowledge still didn’t stop you from letting your fingers graze against the cat as you fell fast asleep, Strade’s heartbeat filling your ears.

#btd strade #strade boyfriend to death #strade x you #strade x reader #strade #btd #boyfriend to death #merry christmas lol

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yam-writes · 3 years ago

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kiss me with your eyes closed - strade x reader hi, me again Rating: Explicit Relationships: Strade (BTD/TNR)/Reader Tags: Stockholm Syndrome, Kissing, Rough Kissing, Riding, Dubious Consent, Extremely Dubious Consent, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Smut, Shameless Smut, Biting, Bruises, Unhealthy Relationships, Explicit Sexual Content, Cock Warming read here or on ao3

Strade wasn’t a good kisser. He didn’t have any reason to be. It’s not like he was going around, shoving his lips onto the lips of people he kidnapped for the sole purpose of torturing them. Maybe he’d do it if he just so happened to know that the person hated it, but that was nowhere near enough for him to be good at it. Besides, if he was bad at it, the person would probably hate it more. Really, it was probably in his best interest to stay bad at it, but honestly he wasn’t good because he just didn’t see a point in it.

It was obvious how much he sucked by the way he would push his lips against yours, stick his tongue out, slobber on your chin, bang your teeth together. But when he kissed you, it didn’t seem like he was trying to be bad at it. Honestly, it seemed like it was something he actually wanted to do, but he just couldn’t get the hang of it. But you tried to push those thoughts out of your head. There wasn’t any way that Strade was trying to be good at something like that, something so intimate. Like, really be good at it, not just be good at it so he can trick the person he just cut a toe off of into trusting him. There was no way he actually just wanted to kiss. This had to be another performance, another mockery of what normal human beings do.

But it really did seem like he wanted to do this.

It was easier for you to write off at first. He gets ideas sometimes, horrible ideas that he wants to act out. Sometimes over and over and over again. When he first asked you to kiss him, then made you lay under him for an hour while he shoved his lips onto yours, you thought it was a punishment for something you must’ve done to him, or at the very least another passing thought of his that he didn’t have the self control to not act on. But when he kept making you do it, you knew that this was a phase he must’ve been going through, and that if he was going to keep forcing you to kiss him for hours on end, it was going to be a long month.

But, the more he made you kiss him, the more it felt like he wasn’t just punishing you, or even going through a phase. It felt like he just wanted to practice. So you started taking it more seriously. If he was going to make kissing a regular occurrence, you should probably make sure that he’s at least decent, and he didn’t seem to be making any progress.

You tried to guide him. When he would pin you underneath him, you’d raise your arms and wrap them around his neck. You’d pull him down and swallow the lump in your throat as you told him to “go slow, only pucker your lips when you reach mine.” He’d stare down at you, for once in his life not being able to find something to say back. But he’d lean down and let his eyes close and he’d push his lips against yours, but his pucker would be too late. He ended up just pushing your faces together. So then he’d lean back up and scrunch his eyebrows together and just try again. He’d keep trying and trying.

The two of you would make out for hours, and it was weird, because kissing didn’t do anything for him. He’d kiss you and maybe only get half hard, then push himself off and go do something else. So, really, you guessed this wasn’t a punishment at all. And, he was improving slightly every time, so you should probably just forget about him planning anything bad with this, and just be grateful that he had fixated on something that didn’t cause much bodily harm to you.

The phase lasted longer than you expected. You kissed more than you ever thought you would, and eventually, you were kissing even after Strade had already gotten pretty good at it. You didn’t have to tell him how to do anything, or what to do, or how to do it. He knew. He knew how to do it all, but he still wanted to keep kissing you. Those moments became special, the moments when you could wrap your arms around him and pull him closer and close your eyes and pretend that this was normal.

He didn’t even seem to mind when you were the one who wanted to do the kissing. You could ask him if he wanted to and he would say yes and that was it. You would kiss and he would put his hand on your cheek and you’d play with the hair on the back of his neck. It was… weird. It wasn’t normal. And it wasn’t like his behavior changed in any other way. The sweet moments were contained only in the minutes when your lips were locked together. Otherwise, he was still horrible. He would still push you down, twist your arm, shove his knife into your skin. But none of that happened when you were kissing. You supposed he was keeping that safe.

So it was a mutual agreement that either of you could ask to kiss and that was fine. But, it was the best when neither of you had to ask, because you both understood what the other wanted. Sometimes you would just be sitting together, neither talking, and you’d look at each other and just lean in. It wasn’t something that had to be asked for (or forced), it was something that was natural.

The only problem was that it never went any further. Which, you guessed, realistically, wasn’t a problem. Most of the time with Strade going any further involved a lot of pain on your end. But kissing did do something for you. When you kissed Strade, you wanted to do more eventually. You wanted to run your hands down his back and you wanted him to kiss down your body and you wanted to be close without the horribleness that was being close to him. You wanted to go further and you wanted it to be slow and deep and passionate. You wanted it to actually mean something. But none of that was plausible because, in the end, this was still Strade that you were dealing with.

It was late. The night was still and dark. The glow of the TV hit your face, the feeling of Strade’s presence beside you. You two had been watching TV for hours, just flipping through the channels when something he didn’t like came on. He was leaned back, his cheek pressed to his shoulder. He looked so relaxed, so at peace. You thought he was going to fall asleep, just like you felt like you could at any moment. Technically, you didn’t have to be down there with him. You could’ve gone upstairs, to your own room, and done anything else. But watching TV wasn’t much of a problem. Besides, what were you supposed to do all by yourself in your room? Spending time with Strade wasn’t so bad, but you had felt the sleepiness hit you almost an hour ago, and you had been fighting with your own eyes to keep them open ever since. Really, all you wanted to do was crawl onto Strade’s lap and give him lazy kisses until you just fell asleep in his arms.

You looked over at him. You started the night on the other end of the couch, but in the past hour you had managed to scoot towards Strade without him saying anything about it. He really must be tired, you thought, for him to barely pay any attention to me. You sat beside him, your head swaying as your eyes closed every few minutes. You rubbed at your eyes and looked over at Strade, before you swallowed and let your head fall onto his shoulder.

Strade’s body stiffened for a moment. You swallowed again, your heart beating against your chest. You had taken a chance with lying your head down, maybe you could take a chance with something else you wanted to do, too… After a second, without saying anything, Strade moved his arm and wrapped it around you. You moved your head, fitting yourself perfectly against his side. You stayed still for a few minutes, listening to Strade’s heartbeat against your ear. Then, you moved your head and looked up at him. Maybe I can make it mean something, you thought.

“Strade?” you said, your voice small from the hours spent not saying anything.

He glanced down at you. His eyes were heavy lidded and low.

“Yes?” he asked. He sounded tired, too.

You swallowed and looked away for a second, letting your eyes scan the floor. Then, you looked back up at him.

“Uh,” you breathed out. “Do you want to-” You paused, taking a deep breath, trying to still your heartbeat. “Do you want to kiss?”

Strade let out a small hum. His arm flexed on your side, his muscle getting harder before he relaxed again. He clicked his tongue and then looked down at you.

“Sure,” he said. “We can kiss.”

“Really?” you squeaked.

Strade let out a short, loud laugh. “Of course.” He smiled down at you. “Always.”

You raised up, scooting up on the couch slightly. Strade didn’t move, obviously content in the spot that he was already in. He might not make kissing a horrible experience, but that didn’t stop him from making you work for it. You sat sideways on the couch, pulling your leg up and bending it in front of you.

Strade stared at you, not saying anything. He always did that, and it never failed to make you nervous. You felt a lump form in your throat as you tried to get situated under his gaze. His eyes felt like they were staring straight into your soul, and even though you two were doing something that you had grown comfortable with, you still felt your arms shaking as you moved.

You placed your hand on his leg and scooted forward, getting close enough so that you could kiss him with only a slight lean. You paused, hesitating, staring up at him. He had turned his head so he could keep looking at you. He wasn’t saying anything, was barely even moving. All you had to do was lean forward and push your lips together.

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, and then did just that.

You closed your eyes when you saw him leaning down slightly. It was only a second later that you felt your lips press against his but it felt like forever. You felt your heart beat faster as you kissed him, the intimate moment still making your entire body turn red and your stomach twist into knots. Your hand twitched on his leg, wanting to move, but you stopped yourself. It was too soon in the kiss to do any of that. You had to pace yourself, make sure he really liked this if you wanted to take it any further. And you wanted to. You wanted to be close to him.

Instead, you flattened your palm against his thigh and rubbed. Strade, however, wasted no time in raising his own hand to your face. He cupped your neck, rubbing his thumb under your jaw. He tilted your head back, like you taught him, and deepened the kiss. Your lips moved against each other’s, as did your hand. You gripped his thigh, pressing your fingers gently into his skin. The only reaction he gave was moving his other arm so that it wasn't squished between your two bodies. You shifted, his arm wrapping around your side.

Strade’s tongue left his mouth and ran across your lips. You parted them, giving him access to push it the rest of the way inside, but instead of rushing into it, he pulled back slightly. His mouth closed against yours and he swallowed, then he was kissing you again. You opened your mouth once more and felt his tongue come inside. He didn’t push it all the way in, though, instead licking just inside the entrance. He was doing everything you taught him to do, and he was being slow about it. You didn’t know if he was doing it deliberately, but either way you really didn’t mind. Your brain was filling up with all different kinds of scenarios, all different kinds of romance.

You let out a small whine and instinctively raised up. You pushed your hand into his thigh more and raised into the kiss. Strade pushed his tongue deeper into your mouth, and you both moved your lips rougher. It was obvious that the both of you were getting into it, the sound of spit dropping from the corner of your mouths and the sound of the moans escaping your lips filling the room. Your hand moved on its own, supposedly trained by Strade or just a reaction from such a moment from someone who meant so much to you. You inched your fingers closer and closer, until finally your palm rested against his clothed cock.

But you didn’t have much time to do anything more than a slight rub before you felt Strade’s grip on your face get tighter. His fingers dug into your jaw and you let out a gasp at the sudden pain, your brain pulled out of whatever rose colored vision you were just in. He pushed you back, away from him, and you looked up. He had a huge smile on his face, a light blush dusting over his cheeks, and his pupils were blown out.

“You know,” he said, his voice husky, his hand still placed firmly on your face, “if I didn’t know any better, I would think you were coming onto me.”

You stared up at him, your eyes wide at his comment. Maybe you were being a little hasty, but it was only because you wanted to be close to him.

You shook your head. You didn’t want him to get anything in his head, you didn’t want him to turn kissing into something bad.

“No,” you stammered. “I just wanted to kiss.”

“Why do you look so scared?” Strade asked. His grip tightened even more and you felt your neck move as he pulled you closer to him. He pressed his forehead against yours. “Kissing isn’t scary.”

“I know,” you breathed out. He smelled a little like peppermint, which you figured probably came from whatever it was he had been drinking. “I just-“ you stumbled out. “I just wanted to- um, I figured we could-“ You swallowed. You didn’t know how to ask. Kissing was all you had ever asked for. It never went any further. What if you pushed for more and ruined everything?

Strade sighed and dropped his hand, letting his palm run down your neck and over your shoulder. “Spit it out,” he said. He pulled away, dropping his back against the couch. He placed his hands on his lap and looked over at you. He stared at you for a second, then he quirked an eyebrow and a grin slowly formed on his lips. “Unless you’re too dumb to know how you really feel?”

He phrased it as a question, but it felt more like a statement. You swallowed, not knowing what to say. Maybe he was right. You couldn’t get out what you wanted to ask, after all.

“It’s okay,” he cooed, speaking to you like you were a kid. He reached his hand out again and cupped your cheek. He smiled at you, a smile that to anyone else would be comforting, but you could see the patrons action behind it. You still leaned into his palm, though. “I always know how you’re feeling.” He moved his hand and leaned back again. He raised his eyebrows and said, “You’re lucky I’m here.”

Strade smiled again and then looked away. He hummed, seemingly in thought. Then, he looked back at you. “You wanted me to kiss you while I fuck you, right?” he asked, matter-of-factly.

You felt a blush flood your face. You looked away from him, shifting your eyes to the floor instead. But it wasn’t long until you felt his fingers grasp your chin and your face being pulled towards him.

“You want me to kiss you while I fuck you,” Strade repeated, slowing down each word, dragging out each syllable, “right?”

You swallowed, feeling a hint of tears threatening your eyes. You stared up at him. He always knew exactly what was going on in your head. Once again he had shown that maybe he was right, maybe he was the only one who knew what was best for you, what you actually needed and wanted.

You nodded. “I wanted you to kiss me,” you paused for a second, “while you fucked me.”

Strade leaned back, a huge smile spread across his face. “Well why didn’t you just say so?” he boomed. “I can do that for you!”

Your face perked up. “Really?” you asked.

“Of course,” he said, his smile relaxing into an easier one to digest. “I’ll do anything for you.”

You guessed that was true.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

Strade gave you a sympathetic look. “No need to thank me.”

You stared at each other for a few moments. You didn’t know exactly how to go about this. He knew what you wanted, but what now? Did he want to take the lead, or was this something he was going to make you work for? If so, do you just crawl onto his lap? Do you go slower? Faster? You had no idea what he wanted you to do.

But then he spoke. “Well, let’s get going, yeah?” he gestured his head towards himself. He must’ve seen the look on your face at his request because he followed up with, “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.”

You trusted him. You gave him a small nod and then crawled to him. You swallowed as you leaned up, swinging a leg over his so that you were sitting on his lap. He smiled up at you as his hands found their place on your hips. You licked your lips, pulling the bottom one between your teeth. Strade stared up at you, not making any more moves. You took a deep breath, steadying your nerves, and then leaned down.

You placed your hands on both of his cheeks and crashed your lips together. You let your body slash on top of him, not holding yourself up. Your hips pressed against his. You felt his thumbs rub circles in your skin as you kissed. Your lips smacked together, both of your mouths opening as your tongues shot out and pushed inside. Strade ran his tongue across yours and you pushed back, putting up a mock fight. Really, you just wanted his tongue deeper in your mouth.

It didn’t take long before Strade and you were slobbering all over each other. Spit gathered over your lips as the kiss was deepened. Strade stopped rubbing circles and instead gripped tight. You squished his face slightly, raising up to kiss him harder. His fingers dug into your skin, though, forcing you back down onto his lap. You let out a gasp at the feeling, and Strade smiled against your lips for a moment before pulling you back into the kiss.

Strade’s hands moved, guiding your hips on top of his. He pushed you down, hard, against his cock. Your hands moved from his cheeks and slipped around, wrapping around his neck. You moved your hips along with his hands, grinding down. The kiss was intense, and you couldn’t stop the moans from coming from your lips. Strade’s breathing was getting harder, to, and small groans were coming from him.

He was getting more handsy as the kiss went on. You were a little surprised. Before, Strade really didn’t try anything when you were kissing. He would barely even press his body against yours. Was he doing this for you? Or has something really changed? You guessed you were acting a little different, too. You took the other kisses slowly. He allowed you to keep a wall up, so you did. But you weren’t doing that now. You wanted to really kiss Strade, you wanted to kiss him in a way that wasn’t you teaching him. You wanted to kiss him and kiss him and kiss him and kiss him and-

You let out a loud gasp at the feeling of Strade’s teeth biting down on your bottom lip. It pulled you out of your thoughts, and your eyes shot open. You looked down at him, his teeth pulling at your lip. He wasn’t letting you get too far away from him, but the pain was building up. Finally, he let your lip go, and your tongue shot out of your mouth. You tasted blood and you could feel your heartbeat. You swallowed, suddenly remembering who you were kissing.

Strade wasn’t looking at you anymore, though. His eyes were huge and staring at your lip, his own tongue poking out and licking his lips. He let out a low hum and then moved his hands up and around, cupping your lower back. He pulled you to him and when you were close enough to his face, you felt his tongue drag along your lip, licking up the blood that had gathered on the spot he bit. He let out a low groan as he savored the taste in his mouth. He was getting excited, you could tell, and fuck, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t getting excited, too.

You didn’t give him much time to do anything else before you dropped your face back down to his. You moved your hips, rubbing your clothed bodies together. Your lips crashed together, the blood from yours smearing onto his face. You didn’t know how he felt about this, but he didn’t react too much. He just tightened his grip on your back. You barely paid attention to what he was doing, but you were vaguely aware of the feeling of his hands slipping under your shirt. You felt his palms slide up your back, pulling your shirt up with them. You continued to kiss him, your tongues fighting against each other, the noise of the TV drowned out by the noises of you two.

You pulled away when Strade raised your shirt up. He slipped it off you and tossed out to the side, his mouth immediately attaching to you again. Your hands clenched behind his neck, your fingers grasping the hair at the back of his neck, His hands roamed your back as he kissed your neck, which quickly turned into bites. he bit down, hard, sucking bruises all over. Your hands dropped to his shoulders and you gripped, not really knowing what else to do with them. The hickeys hurt, but your brain had entered into a space that only Strade could put it in. And, besides, he didn’t really care if he was hurting you or not.

His dick grew underneath you. You could feel the hardness press against you as you grinned down onto his hips. He continued to move his head down, sucking onto your skin. After a few minutes, he leaned back and admired his handiwork.

“You look better like this,” he commented.

You looked down at him, but you didn’t say anything back. For once, he didn’t seem to mind. You felt his hand cup the back of your neck, his thumb placed close to one of the hickeys. He pushed your head down, closer to his, but when your lips were almost touching he paused. He looked into your eyes, his thumb rubbing lightly against the hickey. Your mouth was slightly parted against his. Then, his finger pushed into the bruise and a pain shot through your body. Your mouth opened more, but a gasp wasn’t able to leave it because Strade brought his out to yours. The noise was caught in your throat at the sudden contact. Then, you felt him purse his lips and spit in your mouth. It hit your throat and you had no choice but to swallow it down.

Your lips were connected again after that, your mouth slick with his spit. He kissed you back, but only for a moment before he was pulling away.

“Take your pants off,” he commanded. His voice was rough and his pupils were completely blacked out. He had one thing on his mind, and he was going to get it.

You scrambled off of him. When you got to your feet, you pulled your pants down and kicked them off. You were completely naked in front of him, but you didn’t even care. Being ashamed of anything like that in front of Strade had gone out the window a long time ago. You were quick to try and climb back onto him, but when your hand touched his knee, he stopped you.

“Whoa,” he laughed. “A little eager, aren’t we?” He quirked an eyebrow at you and tilted his head, an amused smile on his face. “I have to take my pants off, too.”

You stepped back and swallowed. Not being ashamed of being naked in front of him didn’t mean he didn’t find other ways to embarrass you every chance he could get. You watched him slip his fingers into the waistband of his sweats and pull down. He raised his hips and slid his sweats off, then kicked them away. You could see the bulge in his underwear, and he smiled when he saw you staring. Your cheeks burned even brighter as he started pulling at his underwear. He didn’t take them all the way off, though, he just pushed them down enough to pull his cock out. He stared down at it as he stroked lazily, but then his eyes drew up to you.

“Come on,” he gestured his head towards himself.

You stepped towards him and then climbed back onto his lap. He kept one hand on his dick, but the other one attached to your hip, guiding you on top of him. You settled on top, your legs squishing against his thighs. You looked up at him.

“So,” Strade started. You felt his knuckles brushing against you, “I believe that one of the conditions was that I had to kiss you while I fucked you, right?”

You bit your lip, trying to hide the small smile. “Yeah,” you nodded.

Strade smiled. “Okay.”

He leaned his face towards you, his hand raising to your cheek. You leaned down, too, closing your eyes and putting all of your trust into him. Your lips connected, and he gently kissed you. It was the most passion he had put into any of your kisses ever. It felt like he really, really wanted to do this. You squeezed your eyes shut, not wanting to cry at a time like this. You kissed him back, your mind completely focused on that. You didn’t even notice he was moving his other hand until you felt his tip press against you. You instinctively clenched, preparing for him.

He went slow. He pushed inside of you, and you felt his legs shaking against yours as he did, trying his hardest not to go too fast. You let out small whines as he pushed all the way in, kissing him all the way through it. You felt him fill you up, stretching you out, and you didn’t help but to raise your hands to his cheeks and grip them tight. He didn’t move when he was inside, instead he moved both of his hands to your hips and kept kissing you.

His dick twitched inside you and you couldn’t help but clench around him. He wasn’t small, so the burn was almost painful, and as much as you adored cockwarming, you needed more than that. You were aching for him to move, to do anything.

You pulled away, breathing hard. “Strade?” you whispered. You moved your hips slightly, showing him what you wanted. “Can you…” You trailed off, looking down at him, your eyes big.

Strade let out a small laugh. “Right,” he said. “The other condition was fucking, wasn’t it?”

“Mhm,” you whined.

“Guess I have to fuck you then, huh?”

“Please,” you said. You moved your hips around again.

Strade let out another laugh and tapped his fingers against your hip. He was so deep, you could feel him in every part of your body. You needed him. Finally, he moved his hips, pushing himself down onto the couch. He barely pulled out any, but he slammed back inside anyway. You gasped, falling on top of him as you lost your grip on his shoulders.

He moved your hips, pulling you up and then pushing you back down. You were trying to keep your balance, your shoulder bumping into his chin as he continued to bounce you up and down. He didn’t seem to notice, though. His head was pressed into the crook of your neck, low groans coming from his mouth.

He wasn’t going fast like usual, though. He was going slow and hard, getting deeper and deeper with each thrust. He was hitting places inside you that you didn’t even know existed. The moans that were coming from you were guttural, coming from deep within your throat. Strade’s hands were gripping your hips tight, an ever present reminder that he was using his self control, but that this wasn’t what he normally did.

Strade pushed all the way inside you, but then he didn’t pull out. Instead, he pushed his hips up more, and yours down, staying deep and only fucking into you even deeper. The pressure and the hard thrusts were convincing you that your insides were going to be bruised forever, another way that Strade was going to leave his mark on you.

Strade’s face was still buried in your neck, his spit falling onto your skin. You felt him swallow as he moved his hands from your hips. He wrapped them around you and laced them together behind your back, pressing you against him, holding you to him. You raised up, pushing at his shoulder to get him to do the same.

He raised his head up and looked at you. His eyes were heavy lidded, his cheeks were bright red, his hair was a mess over his forehead, his lips were wet with spit. He looked… so… cute. So human. He looked like he was really, really enjoying this and for once you were really, really enjoying it, too. You two were so close, you two were… You two were made for each other.

You pressed your forehead against his, smiling. A moment later, you moved, pushing your lips against his. You kissed him, and he kissed you back. You felt his arm tightened around your back, pushing your face into his more. The kiss was deep, Strade’s dick, your entire body was on fire with passion and it was all too much. It was only a few more thrusts, only a few more pumps and you felt yourself come undone. You gasped into the kiss. Strade smiled and then let out his own series of groans as you felt him cum, deep inside you.

Your body dropped when both of you had rode out your orgasms. You slacked against him, your body not even able to move anymore. Strade was still, too, but he kept his arms wrapped around you. He was breathing heavily, and a small laugh left his lips.

“Hey,” he panted. He felt his fingers tap your back.

You couldn’t say anything back, though. You were tired before, but you were definitely on the brink of sleep now. You could barely even keep your eyes open.

“Are you asleep?” he asked, his voice lowering slightly.

When you didn’t answer, he let out another small laugh. He snuggled slightly, and then a few minutes later you felt your body raise up. He pulled out, and then more shuffling. Then you were raising up again, but this time Strade was, too. He carried you through the house and into your bedroom. He lowered you onto the bed. You squished your body into the mattress, and then felt a blanket cover you.

“Goodnight,” was the last thing you heard Strade whisper, his lips landing on your forehead, before you fell into a deep sleep.

#strade x you #strade x reader #btd strade #strade boyfriend to death #strade #btd #boyfriend to death

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