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plutotheplum · 4 months ago

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Socks and Kisses

leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: a spontaneous shopping trip has leon re-evaluating his friendship with you.

cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, smut, p in v, spanking, oral sex, praise kink, fluff, friends/roommates to lovers, fantasizing

wc: 3.7k

also posted on ao3!

There’s a shriek leaving you when you trip over a bundle of shoes in the doorway. It nearly sends you hurtling towards the floor, but there’s an arm curling around your waist, tugging you up before you can fall. Leon.

You glare up at your roommate, shoving at his chest so it sends him stumbling.

“Seriously, Leon? How many times have I told you to put your shoes to the side of the doorway?” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest.

He winces at your shrill voice, his hand rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“I was busy,” he says, his eyes pleading with you, “you know with… with work.”

You’re shooting him an unimpressed look, pushing past him to put the groceries on the kitchen counter. It was your day to collect them anyways. Living with Leon had happened entirely by accident. One shittily written apartment listing later and the poor guy was standing outside your door, begging you to let him move in. It hadn’t been so bad. Leon had been nice, and you two had gotten along well, becoming friends even. The only thing you couldn’t stand was how messy the man was.

Empty boxes from delivered packages, stray parchment sheets from when he’d bake himself something and socks strewn haphazardly across the floor, much like his shoes. Leon had practically turned your apartment into a deathtrap.

You don’t get to reminisce for much longer, not when he’s reaching for the pack of popsicles you’d bought. Leon lets out a low whine, like a kicked puppy, when you swat his hand away and shoot him an irritated glance. “I’m putting my foot down,” you tell him firmly, “no more unorganized socks, shoes or- or anything for that matter!”

Leon only tilts his head, blinking over at you. You glance towards the clock before your eyes are flitting back to meet his.

“Ikea,” you explain, “we’re going to Ikea to get you some organizers or whatever.”

“ Now? ” Leon asks, raising his brows “but I was going to go to the gym with Chris and-” he’s shutting up when he sees your hardened glare.

Leon lets out an exasperated huff, and you’re smiling over at him, happy you’ve won this argument. Just to reward him, you’re digging out a popsicle from the pack and handing it to him. “So stubborn,” he mumbles under his breath, freeing the popsicle from its wrapper.

“I heard that,” you reply, sticking your tongue out at him.

You both finish up your popsicles, and you’re tossing him his car keys while you pull your shoes on again.

“Why do I have to drive?” he complains, leaning against the doorway.

“Because it’s your mess,” you retort, rolling your eyes, “and you’re paying as well.”

Leon lets out a scoff, “oh, fuck you.”

You smile back at him, patting him on the shoulder for some comfort. You manage to annoy him a little more during the drive to Ikea, and Leon’s contemplating whether he should just stuff your mouth with the rolled up catalog you’re currently holding

It’s when you both get to the kitchen area that Leon realizes something’s wrong. His eyes are watching the way you bend over the model kitchen counter, gaze trained on the way your skirt rides up slightly, exposing the backs of your thighs. He swallows harshly, wondering what it might be like to come up behind you, grab your hips and grind his cock against your ass.

Your voice breaks him out of his dazed thoughts, your hand waving him over as you point to the price tag.

“Don’t you think this is a catch?” You ask him, head tilting back to meet his eyes.

“A catch?” He echoes, raising his brows, “it’s $2000 . Do you even have $2000?”

You roll your eyes, elbowing him in the stomach. “Don’t be such a jerk, Leon. I think it’d look good in our apartment.”

There it is. Our apartment. The words are so comfortably domestic that it has Leon’s knuckles squeezing tight around the basket he’s holding. He’d be lying if he said he hasn’t imagined you two dating. Especially after that time he’d come home drunk one night. You’d taken care of him so sweetly, despite all of your grumbles and chastisements, that Leon felt like he was falling in love.

That had only happened once though, and Leon wasn’t prepared to make a big deal about his feelings so he buried them deep down and carried on with his life.

He doesn’t have time to dwell on his little crush any longer, brows furrowing when he feels the basket in his hand grow heavier. You’ve been milling about, dumping various little trays and organizational tidbits into the basket.

“At this point, I think you’re trying to max out my card,” he drawls, trailing after you.

“I’m helping you, Leon” you shoot back, bringing a candle up to your nose to smell its scent.

It’s not until you both get to the bedding area that Leon realizes he might actually be losing it.

He’s sitting down on the edge of one of the beds, the basket settled on the floor with how heavy it’s become.

You’re fluttering about, checking out the duvet covers and pillow cases. His eyes watch over you, letting you take a seat beside him on the bed when you find a duvet cover you like.

“Pretty, right?” You ask him, showing him the design.

“I guess,” he murmurs absentmindedly.

He thinks you look prettier though. Besides, it’s not like he can tell you that he’s imagining taking you on this very bed. Your face pressed into the pillows, his cock stuffed into your pussy. You’d probably make cute noises too, clench around his cock while he thrusted into you. He’d let everyone watch, he thinks, make sure everyone knew that you were his.

You’re snapping your fingers in his face, trying to get him to pay attention to you.

“Are you okay?” You ask, staring into his eyes “you keep getting distracted.”

“What?” Leon flushes, clearing his throat “yeah- yeah I’m fine… just had enough of you is all.”

You swat his shoulder and he rolls his eyes. Both of you manage to get to the checkout without any further bickering. Leon’s card doesn’t max out thankfully, but you wince when you see the total, ignoring Leon’s glower as he tears the receipt from the machine.

To make up for the spontaneous shopping spree, you buy him a soft serve and hand it to him with a smile.

Leon takes it with a grumble, his eyes dropping to the way you lick at your soft serve. The icy treat smudges across your lips, and he’s reaching out before he can stop himself, his thumb swiping at the corner of your mouth to clean the mess.

“Think you might be the messy one,” he mutters gruffly, drawing his hand back.

“Your socks alone have nearly crippled me” you reply, nibbling at the cone to try and quell the race of your heart at his unexpected action.

Leon lets out a loud sigh, shaking his head. The drive home is quiet, the soft sounds of the radio filling up the car’s space.

You help Leon with the stuff you bought, leaving the goods in his room before letting out a satisfied nod.

“There. Now you don’t have an excuse for being messy. Better start cleaning up, Leon” you chirp, giving him a snarky smile before tugging his door shut.

You sigh happily, mind feeling at ease. You’re sure that your apartment won’t be so messy anymore. The sounds of Leon rummaging inside his room almost make you feel bad, but this had been going on for months and you were glad you had done something about it.

Deciding to grab some food, you reach for the can of peaches on the kitchen counter. By some misfortune, your hand accidentally knocks the can, sending it rolling towards the edge. Letting out an irritated huff, you’re reaching across the counter to grab the can before it falls off.

While this happens, you’re blissfully unaware of the fact that your skirt is riding up. Leon feels his heart nearly jump out of his chest at the sight when he had wandered out of his room to grab a garbage bag.

He can see the swell of your ass, your cheeks peeking out from your panties as you’re bent over, grabbing the can of peaches.

“Have you made it some sort of mission to bend over every kitchen counter you see?” he asks dryly, his arms crossing over his chest.

You squeak in surprise, body jolting. The can of peaches slips from your hand pitifully, landing on the floor with a loud thunk .

“Why are you sneaking up on me?” You whine, turning to give him a glare.

Leon doesn’t reply, coming to a stop in front of you. His blue eyes are dark, dirty blonde hair hanging over his forehead.

“Um… Leon?” You wave your hand in front of his face.

“I’m starting to think you’re doing it on purpose,” he murmurs, his hand catching yours.

“Hm?” he squeezes your hand, his head lowering so he can stare right into his eyes, “bending over every kitchen counter so I can see your pretty ass?”

You manage to gather your wits, letting out a loud scoff and push at his chest.

“You’re such a perv, Leon!” you accuse, narrowing your eyes and placing your hands on your hips.

“I’m not a perv if you keep bending over like that!” he shoots back, his hands grabbing at your forearms to tug you towards him.

You swallow harshly when his calloused hands drift past your wrists, finding your hands and lacing his fingers with yours. The warmth of his body seeps into yours and your head is tilting, eyes finding his.

“We- we are not fucking,” you whisper, shaking your head.

“Who said anything about fucking?” Leon asks, his head lowering again.

His body presses against yours, causing your breath to hitch. You’re biting your lip at the way it feels, the hard planes of his body molding against yours.

“One kiss,” he whispers, peering into your eyes, “please? Just one kiss and it’ll be over.”

You’d be doing yourself a disservice if you denied his request. Leon was stupidly handsome even if he was a little annoying at times, and you had maybe masturbated to the thought of your roommate before.

“Did you happen to forget that we’re roommates?” you raise your brows, trying to voice your concerns.

“Roommates kiss all the time,” he says, his nose nudging against yours gently, “now c’mon, gimme a kiss.”

You don't know what sort of roommates he’s been hanging around, but you’re almost certain that roommates don’t kiss or do whatever the hell you two are doing right now.

Leon doesn’t know what he’s doing either. That one shopping trip had seriously messed up his brain, but he was here now so there was no going back. Your lips look so pretty, your eyes all starry. He wants to kiss you senseless and bend you over that stupid kitchen counter while he fucks into you until you’re crying on his cock.

As if to encourage you a little more, he nudges his nose against yours again. You send him a glare, eyes slipping shut as you rock up on the tips of your toes and brush your lips against his. The kiss is fleeting, a mere touch of your lips against his, and it’s safe to say Leon is not impressed.

“There,” you say, trying to hide the smirk that spreads across your face, “you got a kiss. Now leave me alone.”

Leon lets out a low groan, his head falling against your shoulder, “you’re a fuckin’ tease, you know that?”

You hum, pushing at his chest, taking the opportunity to free yourself from the confines of his grasp.

“Not so fast,” he murmurs, his hand snagging onto your shirt, “c’mere baby.”

His low voice has the butterflies in your stomach fluttering, your eyes widening when his hands cup your cheeks and he presses his lips against yours.

It doesn’t take you long to respond, arms wrapping around his neck as he kisses you fiercely. He groans into your mouth, his arms winding around your waist to pull you closer.

You’re both flush against each other and you let out an irritated noise when he shoves you up against the kitchen counter, feeling the solid surface dig into your back.

“Drove me crazy at that Ikea,” he whispers against your lips, his hands sneaking under your skirt to give your ass an appreciative grope, “thought about fucking you on one of those beds.”

The idea of it is so obscene and indecent that you find yourself moaning out loud.

“Yeah? You like that, baby? Me fucking you in front of everyone, letting them know that you’re mine?”

You’re nodding desperately at his filthy questions, trying to tug his shirt off so you can see his chest and abdomen. He obliges you, quickly shrugging off his shirt. Your teeth sink into your lower lip at the sight, eyes half-lidded.

You can’t help the way your body leans forward, lips pressing soft kisses across his chest and his pecs. Leon sucks in a sharp breath, his hands moving to cradle the back of your head.

“Just kisses, huh?” he murmurs.

You nod, peering up at him “no fucking, remember?”

He hums, tilting your head so he can kiss you again. Leon kisses you over and over until you can’t breathe. You’re feeling so dazed that you don’t even notice he’s spinning you around, bending you over the kitchen counter. There’s a soft whine escaping you when he flips your skirt up, his hands squeezing at your ass before his fingers slip under your panties, tugging the fabric back and letting it snap back against you.

Your fingers are scrabbling at the counter top when you feel him drop to his knees, his lips pressing against the skin of your ass. He kisses your body so reverently, you think you might actually pass out.

“Wanna kiss your pussy too,” he mumbles, tugging your panties down. You shudder when you feel his breath hit your sensitive skin, hips swaying back to meet the kisses he places on your clit.

His tongue lolls out before long, lapping at your cunt, collecting the slick that drips from you.

“That- that is not kissing,” you whimper out, head falling against the coolness of the counter.

“Sure it is,” he whispers, burying his face deeper into your pussy, “just dirty kisses, sweetheart.”

The way he eats you out is messy. Leon’s trying to shove his face deeper between your thighs, his lips suctioning around your pussy. You mewl when he draws back and spits on your cunt, his mouth latching on soon after. You’re not sure how much longer you can hold on, knees beginning to shake. Leon delivers a particularly toe-curling suck to your clit and you’re shuddering, letting out whines and whimpers when he lets out a low laugh, his tongue swiping over your cunt repeatedly.

“Leon- fuck! Leon, ‘m gonna-” you can barely speak properly.

“Then come , baby,” he whispers, his tongue pressing into your fluttering hole.

You squeal at the unfamiliar sensation, knuckles turning white as you come on his tongue. He licks up your slick eagerly, his wet lips pressing soft kisses against the swell of your ass as you pant.

He stands up, tucking his face into the crook of your neck. You press your back against his chest, turning your head to kiss along his jaw. His eyes flutter shut, his hands smoothing along your back to undo the clasp of your bra.

Your arms lift and Leon helps you take off your shirt and bra, letting out a soft sigh as your head falls back against his shoulder. Leon’s hands are restless, reaching for your breasts.

He hums at the sight of your hard nipples, pinching and rolling them between his fingers before letting go to squeeze your tits.

“You’re real pretty, sweetheart” he whispers, kissing your cheek.

You mewl, cheeks flushing. You hadn’t expected him to talk to you so sweetly. Leon feels your body lurch forward, tits pressing against his palms. He laughs, giving another firm grope to your tits and finds your lips to give you another filthy kiss. While he kisses you, Leon grinds his hips against your ass, and you gasp into his mouth, feeling the outline of his cock through his shorts.

“Think my cock wants to give your cute pussy some kisses too,” he says, his mouth pressed against your ear, “you up for it, baby?”

You could be a bobblehead with how fast your head is moving up and down. Leon grins against your ear, placing another kiss to your cheek before he’s bending you over the counter. The coolness of the counter startles you slightly, but Leon’s hand rubs up and down your back, warming your skin.

Tits squished against the hard surface, your feet on the tips of your toes, pussy glistening with his spit and your arousal, Leon can hardly believe his fantasy has come to fruition. He wants to take a picture, keep it safe and jerk off to the sight of you when he’s alone. There’s no pictures taken though, instead Leon’s hand delivers a heavy slap to one of your ass cheeks.

You moan, back arching slightly as you try and chase the feeling. It hurts and you can feel the sting of his palm prickling across your skin, but you want him to spank you again so badly.

“L- Leon, want more,” you mumble, looking back at him.

Leon takes your request in stride, his hand coming down on your ass repeatedly. Your body slumps against the counter, soft noises escaping you as he rains slap after slap onto your reddening skin.

“Shit, sweetheart” he whispers, his hands smoothing over the damage he’s done to your ass “so fuckin’ pretty.”

There’s a babbled noise escaping you. Mind feeling like mush, all you can think about is Leon. He smooths his hands over your sensitive skin a few more times, trying to soothe the pain before you feel him squeeze gently as he presses the head of his cock against your aching hole.

Leon pushes into your pussy with a groan, his hands squeezing at your hips. It almost feels like he’s trying to ground himself.

“Fuck-” he hisses, drawing his hips back to thrust back into you again, “ fuck - you’re so tight, baby.”

You whimper at the feeling of his cock stretching you out. Leon’s thrusts are beginning to pick up in speed and you’re whining, the force of his thrusts making your body rub against the kitchen counter.

“Leon, Leon, Leon,” you chant his name and his body is draping over yours, lips pressing kisses to your shoulder and back, “feels so good,” you slur.

His hips are rutting against your ass, cock stuffing you full. You’re moaning so loudly that Leon has to slip his hand over your mouth in an effort to quieten your noises. His balls are slapping against your clit and the combined stimulation is making your head spin.

Soon, his hand is leaving your mouth to grip your hips again.

“Take my fucking cock,” he grunts, each word punctuated with a harsh slap to your ass.

“It’s too much!” you wail, nails clawing at the counter to try and crawl away.

He growls, grip tightening as he keeps you in place, “don’t you dare run. Take my cock like a good girl, baby.”

“You’re insane,” you cry, but there’s a cockdrunk smile spreading across your face as he fucks into you.

“Yeah,” he whispers, his head lowering so he can whisper into your ear, “and it’s all for you, because- because I like you.”

There’s a loud whine ripping out of you at that, wet heat clenching around him. No one’s confessed to you before, like ever . You suck in a sharp breath, trying to calm your heart and stop the excited flipping of your stomach that comes with his confession.

Leon moans when he feels the clench of your walls around his cock and he’s fucking into you with renewed fervor.

“I like you,” he whispers again “like you so much, sweetheart. Always taking care of me, looking out for me, makes me feel special.”

“Only do that ‘cause you’re an idiot, Leon” you mumble, swallowing back another moan that threatens to spill out.

“But you do it anyway,” he murmurs, driving his cock into you.

You gasp, eyes squeezing shut as his fat tip grazes the spot deep inside of you. He grunts when he feels you getting tighter, feels you clenching hard around his cock.

“You gonna come for me?” he asks, sucking little love bites onto your neck, “hm? Can feel you clenching around me, baby.”

“Wanna- wanna come at the same time,” you babble “right, Leon? Since- since you like me, we gotta come at the same time.”

He’s letting out a hoarse laugh, kissing your shoulder again, “yeah baby, I’m right there with you.”

All of a sudden, he’s burying himself to the hilt inside of you and your mouth drops open, a sharp noise leaving you as you both come. Your body is limp against the counter, body covered in a thin sheen of sweat as you pant. Leon kisses your neck, letting out a whine as his cum spurts into you. It’s warm and thick, filling you up so perfectly that it has a serene smile settling on your face.

He helps you onto your feet, his hands rubbing up and down your sides to soothe your shaky legs. You feel him press a soft kiss to the side of your head and you’re rocking up on the tips of your toes, returning a kiss to his cheek.

“I like you too, Leon” you whisper, arms wrapping around his neck to pull him down for another kiss.

You can feel him smile against your lips and he’s kissing you back sweetly. Leon keeps you there for a while as you both kiss, his hands petting across your tired body.

He takes you to his room later, his hand encasing yours. The moment is almost perfect, if not for the sock on the floor that sends you careening into his desk. “Leon!” you grit out.

He only laughs, his arms wrapping around your waist as he picks you up and tosses you onto his bed.

“Sorry, sweetheart.”

#leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil smut #leon kennedy x you #resident evil #leon kennedy

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likeumeanit9497 · 5 months ago

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like a pornstar | c.s. |

chris sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: when y/n, chris' best friend, confesses that she has never finished during sex, he decides to change that

warnings: smut; oral (fem receiving); unprotected p in v; dirty talk; established friendship; squirting; 18+

notes: back again with a friends with benefits smut (shh im manifesting). i hope the chris girlies enjoy, and matt girlies don't worry my next one shot is for u ;) love y'all <33333

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

“Hey! You’re gonna eat all the popcorn! Give me some.” I exclaimed before snatching the half eaten bag of popcorn from Chris’ grasp. He tried to say something in a rebuttal, but all he got through his mouthful of popcorn was garbled words and a slight spray of kernels. “Oh god, you’re foul.” I said jokingly before wrapping my leg around his to lighten my words. “Just hush, I can’t hear the show.”

Chris and I had been best friends since elementary school, and had always had a bond like no other. When he had moved out to California a few years ago, I had really struggled with the loss of seeing him practically everyday. But since then, I had been able to come out and visit him multiple times, and it was so exciting to have him show me the new life that him and his brothers had built for themselves on the other side of the country.

In the past, each time I had visited him in Los Angeles the weather had been amazing, so I had forced Chris to explore all over the city with me. However, this visit had been nothing but rain, so him and I had done little more than what we were doing right now: curling up under the covers with some snacks and a couple joints, binge watching all of our favourite shows from high school. We were currently re-watching Euphoria — one of my all time favourite shows — as a light trickle of rain acted as background noise.

As we worked through our snacks, the scene where Maddy and Nate’s relationship dynamic is described played. I popped a handful of popcorn in my mouth, relishing in the nostalgic feeling that the show brought me, as the scene continued on to describe how Maddy watched porn to study how she should look and sound during sex. As the character arched her back on her bed, her eyes plastered to a device playing porn, I let out a small chuckle.

“What?” Chris turned to me with a confused smile. “Nothing. It’s nothing.” I replied, shaking my head and shoving more popcorn into my mouth to stifle my ridiculous laughter. “Brooo, tell me.” He whined, grabbing my shoulder and shaking it jokingly. I rolled my eyes at his dramatics. “Oh my god, fine! I was just laughing because I used to do that.” I finally responded, and Chris turned to me and raised a quizzical eyebrow. “Wait, what?” He brought a fistful of candy to his mouth. “I used to study porn too, not to get off on it or anything, just to like know what I was supposed to do.” I admitted, feeling my cheeks grow warm as Chris just stared blankly at me.

Finally, Chris blinked a few times, pulling himself out of his blank stare to resume eating snacks. “I don’t understand that honestly,” He began, reaching his hand into the popcorn bag between my legs, “I feel like when you’re in the moment all of those sounds and movements and stuff come naturally, don’t they?” I shrugged before responding. “Not for me, to be honest. I’ve never really had any sort of sexual interaction that made me feel good enough to act and sound like a porn star.” I chuckled, keeping the conversation lighthearted. This wasn’t the first time Chris and I had talked about our sexual experiences, so I felt comfortable being honest with him.

But when I fixed my gaze back onto him, I was met with a confused expression. “So does that mean you’ve never…” He dragged out his sentence, seemingly too afraid to complete it, so I saved him the trouble and answered his unfinished question with a solemn shake of my head. At this, his eyebrows shot up in what seemed to be total shock, complete with a dropped jaw. “You’re not serious, Y/n.” He said simply, and I once again shrugged my shoulders. “I mean it’s pretty common for girls to not be able to finish during sex, you know that.” I replied, to which he titled his head to the side and looked off into the distance.

“I guess so, but I’ve personally never ran into that problem before.” He replied, a cheeky smile taking over his face, and I rolled my eyes. “Oh Jesus, well too bad not all men are the Christopher Sturniolo.” I joked, unintentionally stroking his ego before refocusing my gaze on the show. The room was silent for a brief moment, both of us back to watching the show, before Chris spoke up again. “I just think that’s really fucked up. Sex should make both people involved feel good.” I wrapped my leg tighter around his. “Well aren’t you a crowd pleaser.” I joked. Turning to once again face him, I was expecting to be met with his classic grin. But instead, his face was serious; his mouth was set in a straight line and his blue eyes had darkened.

His expression was one I rarely saw, but it made my stomach tighten subconsciously. My throat suddenly felt extremely dry, and I couldn’t speak. My breath hitched when Chris brought a hand under the covers and placed it gently on my bare thigh, rubbing small circles into the skin. And my head began to spin when he shifted his body so that he was completely facing me. “You know, I bet I could make you sound like a porn star.” His poker face was finally replaced with a smirk, this one much more sinister than the one that I usually saw cross his face. He used his hand on my thigh to guide my legs open before brushing a finger just barely against my clothed heat; causing me to gasp. He leaned closer to my frame, already quivering in anticipation, and nibbled gently at my earlobe before whispering.

“Let me make you feel good, Y/n.”

He kept his mouth right there against my ear as he waited for a response, and I could feel his rapid breaths against my skin. My brain was in shambles, and I couldn’t make sense of what was happening. Chris and I had been best friends for so long, but not once had things turned sexual. This was completely uncharted territory for me, and I couldn’t imagine it ending well. But, his hand that was resting in between my trembling thighs and his whispered proposition had already caused my panties to grow damp, so I threw all of my sensibility away by grabbing his jaw, drawing his face to mine, and crashing my lips onto his.

Immediately, Chris worked his lips against mine. They moved in sync as his tongue slipped into my mouth with ease; dancing around my own and filling me with more desire. He brought his other hand under the covers to grab onto my other thigh, where he squeezed harshly before using his grip to pull me up on top of him. Still attacking my mouth with his, he rubbed his hands up and down my body as I straddled him, taking care to focus his attention on my more sensitive parts.

He broke the kiss briefly to pull my oversized t-shirt over my head, before taking a moment to admire my bare chest in his direct line of sight. Without hesitation, he attached his mouth to one of my tits, nibbling and swirling his tongue around my sensitive nipples; causing my body to break out in goosebumps from the sensation. After he took his time on the first, he moved his mouth onto the second, and the new contact caused me to subconsciously grind my pelvis against his thigh; eliciting a moan from me. My erotic sound caused his eyes to shoot open, looking up at my face, before he detached his mouth from my tit to speak. “Real moan?” He asked, his lips swollen, and I nodded my head before grinding my hips against him once more. “F-feels good.” I mumbled, and at that he readjusted himself so that he was sitting up against the headboard; giving me more stability.

“Then keep doing that. Wanna see you feeling good.” He replied, shifting my body so that my core could press right up against the highest point of his thigh. I didn’t hesitate long before resuming my movements, this time moving at a much faster pace; losing myself to the sheer pleasure that the friction of his pants granted me. Chris’ mouth reattached to my nipples, but his eyes never left mine as he took in all of my contorted facial expressions and soft moans. He allowed his lips to travel along my chest up to my neck, where he suckled gently before muttering. “I don’t want you to fake anything, baby, just want you to tell me when it feels good and when it doesn’t. Okay?” I nodded my head frantically, squinting my eyes from the overwhelming pleasure I was feeling.

I looked down to where my body was writhing against him, and even through my shorts and panties I had left a dark patch from my arousal against his grey sweats. Rolling my eyes to the back of my head in bliss, I had never before grown that wet during sex before. I felt my legs begin to weaken around his thigh, and an overwhelming feeling begin to bubble up inside of me. I knew it was my orgasm approaching, but I was hit with a sudden wave of nervousness that was preventing me from reaching it.

“C-Chris, I can’t,” I panted out, and his eyes were immediately on mine. “You can’t what?” He replied, gripping my ass with both hands and helping me grind myself against him. “C-can’t finish.” I replied honestly, feeling my eyes well up with frustrated tears. I had never felt this good in bed with someone before, and still, I couldn’t get myself to cum. “Hey hey, it’s okay,” Chris used his grip on me to stop my movements completely, “It’s an overwhelming feeling, it’s sometimes hard to give in to it.” He brought a hand up to my cheek and stroked it affectionately. “Lie down here.” He patted the space in the bed where I had previously been, and I obliged, resting my head against the pillow.

Once I settled myself, Chris crawled on top of me, resting his weight on one arm. He began kissing me again, this time much slower than the first, and once my heart rate began to slow I took it upon myself to deepen the kiss; pulling his bottom lip gently with my teeth. This elicited a deep moan from Chris, and I felt him grind his clothed member against my core before dragging his mouth down my jaw and neck; leaving harsh kisses in its trail. I watched through droopy eyelids as Chris’ body traveled down my own, and my breathing increased once again when he reached the waistband of my shorts. He toyed with the band for a moment, slipping two fingers under the material before looking back up at me.

“I just want you to relax, lay there, and tell me when you feel good. Can you do that Y/n?” His voice was soft, but it was the unmistakable undertone of gruff arousal laced through it that caused my stomach to flip. I nodded quickly, bringing a hand to his forehead and brushing a few stray hairs back. “Okay.” I replied, causing him to smirk before slowly pulling my shorts and thong down my legs. Once my clothing was completely discarded, Chris encouraged my knees to bend and spread my legs open; exposing my dripping heat completely. “Hmm, so pretty Y/n.” He said lowly, taking in the glistening folds just centimetres from his face.

I watched as he dropped soft kisses along my outer folds before using his hands to spread me open slightly. His mouth inched closer and closer to my aching core, and when he finally connected to it I released a shaky moan. Immediately, he used his tongue to expertly manipulate my clit, causing me to see stars almost instantly. It was clear by his movements that he knew what he was doing, and I had to grip onto his messy curls in order to keep myself in place as he continued. “Is that good baby?” He asked against my bundle of nerves, moving one of his hands from my folds down to my entrance, teasing it in circles as he waited for a response.

“S-so good Chrissy.” I managed to get out before he reattached his lips, this time slowly plunging a digit into me as he continued; causing my hips to buck. “Shh, stay still honey.” He mumbled, still working his tongue and fingers in sync against my heat. The combination of his tongue against my clit and his finger plunging up into my g-spot was staggering, and I was once again feeling the undeniable signs of an upcoming orgasm. Every inch of my skin felt like it was being set on fire, and the pressure in my lower stomach was so intense, it felt like I was going to pee.

I had reached orgasms on my own before, but none had ever had a build up as intense as the one I was currently feeling with Chris. I felt like I could explode, but still, I was struggling to let go once again. “C-Chris, I d-don’t think I — I don’t think I c-can do it.” I cried out, gripping onto his hair like my life depended on it. At this, Chris added a second finger and increased his speed. “Yes you can baby, I know you can. Just breathe and let your body do what it knows to do.” I squeezed my eyes shut from the pressure, and did as he said and released shaky breaths. His movements had the same level of intensity as before, but there was an unspoken level of desperation to them now; clear indication that he wanted to get me there.

Even though it seemed impossible, the pressure inside of me kept getting stronger and stronger. My legs were shaking on either side of his head, and my breaths came out as guttural moans. I felt my body detach from my brain, and I knew I had lost all control over what was going to happen. Just then, the strongest orgasm I had ever felt completely engulfed me, and I could do nothing but cry out in pleasure. My back arched off of the bed, overwhelmed by the extreme sensation. Feverish, strings of erotic notes fell from my mouth, and they could barely be heard over the ringing in my ears.

Mouth agape, I watched in awe as the pressure in my stomach was finally relieved by a rush of fluid shooting from my core. At this, Chris murmured “Oh fuck.” before detaching his lips from my clit and swiftly rubbing it; spraying my fluid all over his face and exposed tongue. My orgasm rippled through me like a tsunami, and left me in a figurative and literal puddle once it died down. Once he drank up all my juices, Chris planted a soft kiss against my clit before dragging his body up mine.

Once he was face to face with me, he gave me a deep kiss. “How was that?” He whispered with a grin on his wet face. Still catching my breath, all I could do was nod. He played with my hair for a moment, tranquility clear on his face, before he suddenly shifted his weight and began climbing off of me. “W-wait.” I said, grabbing hold of his waistband and stopping his movements. He looked down at me with a confused expression, and I wordlessly moved my hand to his crotch, where I was met with what seemed like a painfully hard member. “You’re not gonna fuck me?” I asked, batting my eyelashes innocently as I watched his taken aback expression.

In the blink of an eye, his face darkened once again and he returned to his position above me. “You want me to?” He asked, his face buried in my neck where he peppered it with soft kisses. “Mhmm.” I hummed, using my hand to palm him through his sweats. At that, Chris didn’t hesitate to pull his pants down, leaving his cock exposed. I gasped at its size that had been somewhat disguised when it was still concealed in his sweats, but began pumping my hand up and down as he shuddered in pleasure.

Attaching his lips back onto mine, Chris grabbed onto his shaft and lined it up with my opening. He slid it up and down my folds a few times to collect whatever was left of my previous orgasm, before slowly sliding into me. I gasped at the feeling of my walls stretching around his impressive girth, and we both moaned in unison once he bottomed out. He stayed still for a moment, allowing me to adjust to him, before he began slamming his hips into me.

With his forehead resting against mine, he watched me as I contorted my face into expressions of pleasure, relishing in the feeling of being filled by him. His gruff breathing and occasional deep moans were like music to my ears, and I dug my nails into his bare shoulders to keep him close. “Fuck, your pussy feels so good around me. Not gonna last long.” He groaned, using one of his arms to wrap my leg around his waist. The new angle allowed him to go deeper, and I felt his member slam into my g-spot repeatedly; causing my stomach to fill with that familiar sensation. “Oh god Chris, you’re s-so big.” My voice was coming out squeaky as he continued to pound into me, and he released a harsh moan in response.

I lost myself in the waves of pleasure as they hit me, growing closer to my second orgasm with each of his powerful thrusts. Chris’ gaze on me was so full of lust — clenched jaw, droopy eyes, lower lip trapped in between his teeth — I would have collapsed from its magnitude if I wasn’t already lying down. His motion suddenly shifted from one that was hard and fast to one that was deep and slow, and I couldn’t help but release sharp gasps on each thrusts.

I could tell that I was close to my second orgasm, but he was closer. His breathing was growing more and more rapid, his pace was sloppier, and beads of sweat were dripping down his forehead. As if he was reading my mind, he moaned out. “I-I’m close, want you to cum with me.” My eyes rolled to the back of my head, his words already getting me closer to my high, but I knew I needed to get there faster.

Reaching between us, I found my clit and began rubbing it vigorously. Chris’ eyes followed my hand, and when he realized what I was doing he smirked proudly. “Atta girl.” My action seemed to give him a bit more energy, as his movements began picking up the pace once again; and I found myself on the edge of another orgasm. “Ah fuck, Chris, gonna cum again.” I cried out through my gasps for air just before my second orgasm hit me like a freight train. I felt my walls contract around his swollen member, and that was enough for him to reach his high as well.

Gripping tightly onto my shoulder, Chris plunged his twitching cock in and out of me; driving both of us through our orgasms. I gasped when I felt his fluid shoot deep into me, and savoured the verbal confirmation of his pleasure in my ear. Our moans flew from our mouths in harmony, and it was only once his body stilled above me that I removed my hand from my clit.

We stayed in that position for what could have been hours, catching our breath and falling into the lethargic temperament that always came after sex. Finally, Chris lifted his weight off of me and slid his softening dick out from my core, offering me an apprehensive smile. He stood up and walked into his washroom, coming back over to the bed with a towel to help clean up the mess in between my legs before doing the same to his member. Once I no longer felt like a bowl of jello, I sat up on the bed beside him.

“Well?” He asked, his tone playful as he wiggled his eyebrows awaiting my response. I rolled my eyes before grabbing my top and throwing it over my head. “Would you believe me if I said I faked all of that?” I asked, unable to keep the smile that was toying with the corners of my mouth at bay. He blew air out of his mouth and looked up at the ceiling. “Absolutely not.” He replied, and I laughed. “I hate to gas you up like this, but that really was amazing.” I finally said honestly, resting my head on his bare shoulder.

He chuckled before grabbing my hand and stroking it gently. “Glad to be of service.” He replied, removing his hand from mine and instead wrapping his arm around me completely. “You turned into my little porn star there for a minute.” He followed it up by making high pitched moan sounds, mocking me and breaking the wave of silence that had followed his last comment. I laughed, lifting my head off of his shoulder and coming face-to-face with his goofy smile. “You ever use that against me in the future and I will bite your head off.” I replied, shoving his shoulder gently. “I won’t, swear. But you can use me again in the future if you wish. Y’know, in case you ever want to cum like that again.”

My jaw dropped at his filthy words, but I couldn’t help but feel heat flood to my core once again. Smirking, I raised one quizzical eyebrow. “One more?” I asked, and watched as his face was overtaken by a smirk that mirrored my own. “Lay down and put your legs on my shoulders.”

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #the sturniolos #the sturniolo triplets

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yandere-daydreams · 6 months ago

Text

Title: Till The Water Boils Over Or The Frog Drowns.

Pairing: Yan!Gojo x Reader x Yan!Geto (JJK).

Word Count: 5.8k.

TW: No Curses AU, Dub/Con -> Non/Con (Revoked Consent), Fem!Reader, Oral Sex, Unprotected Sex, Kidnapping, Financial Abuse, Psychological Abuse, Infantilization, Spanking, Unbalanced Power Dynamics, and Forced Codependency. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

[Part Two]

It started the day Satoru first introduced the concept of ‘time out’ to your relationship.

He was immature and you were stubborn. You loved him, but without Suguru’s even temper and calming presence, sparks tended to fly in a way that left you at each other’s throats. With your arms crossed over your chest and your eyes narrowed, you’d watched him sigh, roll his eyes, and storm out of your shared bedroom, slamming the door behind him. You gave yourself a second, then another – sucking in a shallow breath and shutting your eyes, talking yourself through all your usual cool-down methods. You were supposed to go out, tonight, to a restaurant you and Satoru had both been talking about for weeks. You still had about an hour before Suguru was supposed to get home, before you were all supposed to leave together. It wasn’t a good day to fight, even if you knew Suguru would smooth everything over as soon as he got home.

When you were done, you moved to the bedroom door. One hour was plenty of time to talk things out. One hour was plenty of time to kiss and make up, even if you would hold a grudge for a—

You pushed gently on the door. It didn’t budge.

You tried the knob. It turned, but the door still didn’t open.

You pressed your shoulder into the wood, shoving with more force than you ever should’ve had to use. Something shifted – a chair slotted underneath the handle, Satoru’s back leaning against the other side of the thin wood – but didn’t give.

The frustration you’d only just managed to suppress resurfaced immediately. Still pressed against your side of the door, you called out, attempting to keep your tone soft, light. “Satoru? Baby?”

The sweetness in his voice was equally artificial. “I’m right here, angel.”

“I—I think the door might be jammed.” You tried the knob again, rattling the metal for emphasis. Satoru only hummed in response, and you grimaced. “Are you gonna let me out, ‘toru? I really don’t have time to be—”

“Ninety minutes.”

“…ninety minutes?”

“Ninety minutes,” he repeated. You could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “After that, we can check and see if you’re still feelin’ so bratty.”

You were almost thankful there was a door between you. If it hadn’t been there, you might not have been able to stop yourself from throttling him. “Satoru, I really don’t have time to—”

There was an obnoxiously loud hum, the sound of footsteps moving down the hall. You groaned, resting your forehead against the cool wood. Whatever. He was being petty, again. You could do ninety minutes. And, even if you couldn’t, he’d probably be back in ten, tail between his legs and pouting for your attention.

You quickly resigned yourself to passing the time as quickly as possible. You laid face-down on your bed, bemoaning your taste in men and picturing all the ways you could break up with Satoru, once he let you out. You scrolled through your phone, spamming Suguru with half-coherent messages and memes from the very depths of your camera roll. You re-organized your closet, sorting your clothes by color and alphabetizing your shoes. You managed to read a full page of one of the bulky historical fiction novels Suguru kept on the bedside table before deciding you’d be better off breaking up with both your current boyfriends.

You checked the time when you were done, and discovered that you’d managed to kill a whopping fifteen minutes.

God, you were so fucked.

Only half-consciously, you gravitated back to the door, slumping against it. You opened your mouth, ready to call out to Satoru and say whatever you had to say to get out, but another voice cut in before you got the chance. “Baby?”

Suguru. He must’ve gotten back early. You let out a shallow sigh, letting your head fall forward in relief. “Right here,” you said, making no effort to hide your exasperation. “Can you open the door? I think ‘toru blocked me in.”

His deep chuckle was muffled, but still clearly audible. “I’m afraid I can’t. He’s still pretty mad, couldn’t stop talking about how you copped an attitude with him.” There was a pause, a shoulder being rested against the other side of the door. “I think he mentioned something about a dress?”

You were glad he couldn’t see you – he would’ve hated the way you grimaced at the reminder. “It’s a nice restaurant. I wanted to dress up a little, but he’s just so immature, and when he saw the dress I wanted to wear—”

Suguru cut in. “The red one, right?”

“Yeah, with the window on the chest.” You sighed. “Please, Suguru? I really don’t want to spend the next hour of my life locked in my own bedroom.”

Another laugh, this one more stifled than the first. “He just knows how pretty you’d look, babe. Probably doesn’t want anyone else to find out how beautiful our partner is.” When you didn’t respond, he added, “Didn’t he just buy you somethin’ brand new? He can’t complain if he’s the one who picked it out, right?”

You pursed your lips. He had – a pure ivory dress, a little shorter than mid-thigh and sleeveless, not exactly conservative, but not meant to show as much skin as you usually preferred to. It’d come with matching gold jewelry, and you’d politely accepted the gift, kissed him on the cheek, and stashed it under your bed to rot. It wasn’t ugly, nothing so expensive could be, but it suited Satoru’s tastes, not yours.

“I don’t know,” you muttered, trying to soften the harsher edges of your distaste. “You know how Satoru is. Everything he picks out is just so—so him.”

“I’m starting to think you both might be causing problems.” You kicked the base of the door, but Suguru didn’t indulge your outburst with acknowledgement. “Just try it on, alright? If it’s that bad, we can always go without him.”

It took another minute or so of condoling, but soon enough, you were slipping into Satoru’s gifted dress, cursing as you struggled with the tiny, finicky zipper and smoothed wrinkles out of abused silk. You pulled your fingers through your hair once before returning to the bedroom door and knocking defeatedly. As if to add insult to injury, the door swung open in an instant, a smiling Suguru waiting on the threshold.

“See? Absolutely gorgeous, as always.” He leaned forward, cupping your cheek. You let his lips brush over your forehead before pulling away. Thankfully, he wasn’t cruel enough to draw it out any longer – his hand falling to yours and taking it up, tugging you gently towards the living room. “Satoru’s going to forget he was ever mad at all as soon as he sees you.”

You didn’t bother responding, only slumping against his side and letting him guide you forward. Distantly, you heard Suguru calling out to Satoru, but you were already busy – too occupied promising yourself that this would never, ever happen again to care what either of them was saying.

You would, of course, be wrong.

Barricaded doors quickly became a weekly inconvenience. You and Satoru fought often (never intensely and never for very long, but often), and he owned the apartment – meaning, despite all your whining, you couldn’t exactly tell him that his doors couldn’t all lock from the outside. Your ‘cool-down sessions’ (Suguru’s words, not yours) lasted anywhere from twenty minutes to a couple of hours, and Suguru was always the one to let you out. When you couldn’t be locked up and left to stew, Satoru would take it upon himself to leave the apartment – if only for as long as he thought it would take for you to forget you’d argued at all. You got used to it quickly. It wasn’t fair, you didn’t enjoy it, but you got used to it. You’d always had more patience than you really should’ve, when it came to Satoru’s antics.

And then, Suguru started showering with you.

Finding time to spend together was an ever-present obstacle in your relationship. Satoru alternated sporadically between planning lectures and grading papers late into the night to rolling his eyes at the concept of due dates and dulling out extra credit on a whim, and trying to guess if Suguru would be free was a pursuit in futility – his sermons were scheduled, but he was almost always being called out on some mysterious errand on behalf of one of his countless, faceless apostles. You didn’t work at all, but you went to school, and you kept yourself busy. You’d never be as busy as Satoru and Suguru, but you did your best to keep up with them.

Currently, you were basking in the afterglow with Suguru, your head resting on his chest and his arms wrapped loosely around his waist. Satoru was already gone, rushed off to some early-morning lecture, but Suguru didn’t have anything to do, and you—well, you could miss a lecture or two if it meant spending time with him. And, even if you couldn’t, it was hard to imagine tearing yourself away from the feeling of his calloused fingers tracing aimless patterns into the small of your back, of his lips pushing warm, open-mouthed kisses into your shoulders, your collarbone, your throat. His hands drifted to your hips, grip tightening ever-so-slightly, and you felt a raspy groan reverberate against the side of your neck, Suguru pulling you close as he—

“Save it,” you said, drawing back. He pouted and you grinned, pecking the corner of his jaw and sitting up, letting his sheets pool around your waist. “Just for a few minutes – I feel gross.” A full groan, this time. You laughed, combing his disheveled hair back and pressing another kiss into his forehead, this one lingering just a beat longer than the first. “You’ll survive a shower, Suguru.”

You felt him shift underneath you. Before you had a chance to pull away, he was sitting up, his arms still around your waist – keeping you messily laid across his lap. “I’ll come with you.”

“You’ll wait your turn.” And then, when he only hummed in response, “I’m being serious. Somebody in this relationship has to wash their hair every now and then.”

His face was already buried in the crook of your neck, and he was moving toward the edge of the mattress with your body still tucked against his chest. He was planning on carrying you, presumably. Sometimes, it felt like if it were up to Suguru, you’d never walk anywhere on your own again. “I know.” His voice was still raspy with sleep, his usual articulation weighed down by the fatigue that came with a morning spent in bed. “I’ll help.”

“That’s really sweet, but—” You strung your arms around his neck as he stood up, taking you with him. “—I think I’ll be alright on my own, Suguru.”

For the first time all morning, his eyes flickered open, wandering idly in your direction. He held your gaze for a beat, then another.

Finally, the edge of his lips quirked upward – the sly, knowing grin you’d fallen in love with soon painted across his lips. When he spoke, it was in a tone to match, all confidence and cloying, calculated sweetness. “No.”

You faltered, at that. “…no?”

“Don’t wanna be away from you for that long,” he mumbled, by way of explanation. “Whatever you need to do, I’ll take care of. Don’t want you to have to worry your pretty little head over anything.”

You tried your best to laugh, but it was a weak effort, better left unacknowledged. “I don’t know how I feel about my boyfriend offering to, I don’t know, shave my legs or something.”

He only soldiered on, as if you hadn’t said anything at all.

You felt Satoru’s hands on your waist first, then his chest against your back. His mouth found the curve of your throat as if by instinct, teeth grazing against a bruise Suguru had left in the same spot the day before. You felt him lean against you and dropped the knife you were holding onto a nearby cutting board, bracing yourself on the edge of the counter to compensate.

You glanced over your shoulder as his head bowed, face soon buried in the dip of your shoulder. He must’ve just gotten home – he was still wearing his sunglasses, only the first three buttons on his shirt undone. You grinned, twisting around just far enough to kiss the top of his head before turning back to your ingredients. “Rough lecture?”

“Grad students,” he muttered, the dread in his voice plainly audible. “One more fucking extension request, and I swear, I’ll fail the entire class.”

You hummed, letting him sink further into you. You might’ve let him stay there, too, if one of his hands hadn’t fallen to your ass while the other slipped underneath your loose shirt. Before he could creep upward, you jabbed an elbow into his chest. “Keep it in your pants. You still smell like a college campus.”

Of course, he didn’t budge. “But I missed you,” he whined, as shameless as he was clingy. “I had to leave so early, and I was stuck in my office for so long, and I’m gonna die if I have to wait any longer. Is that what you want? For me to die?”

“You could always go to Suguru, if you’re that insatiable.”

“But I want you.” You felt a thumb slip below the waistband of your sweatpants (or, Suguru’s sweatpants, technically – he’d been unbearable unless you were wearing his clothes, recently) and batted his hand away. Your efforts were, predictably, unsuccessful. “Please, baby?” And then, after a beat. “You don’t care about dinner more than you care about me, do you?”

You felt something delicate inside of you falter, crack, then fall apart entirely. It was strange – how long you could nurse a wound without acknowledging it existed at all. “It’s not that, I just—” You stuttered, then stopped entirely. You deflated underneath Satoru’s weight, and as if in response, he held you that much tighter, keeping you as close as you could be, lest he carve open his chest and force you into the open cavity. “I… I guess I feel like I haven’t really been doing a lot for you two, lately. You pay all the bills, and Suguru goes out of his way to take care of me, and there just… It makes me feel kind of useless.” You tried to punctuate the confession with a smile, a laugh, but both were hollow beyond the point of recognizability. It would’ve been better if you hadn’t tried at all. “You get it, right? I just—I don’t want to be the only one not doing anything.”

There was a beat of silence. You felt Satoru settle against you, his chest pressing into your back before he pulled away, detaching from you entirely. You sighed, letting yourself relax.

And then, just as suddenly, you were off of your feet and in Satoru’s arm, one tucked under the bend of your knees while the other supported your back. You managed a stammered, half-coherent protest, but if Satoru was listening, he wasn’t bothered.

He carried you out of the kitchen and into the living room, your half-finished recipe forgotten in favor of dropping you onto the nearest couch and kneeling over you, already pulling on the collar of his shirt. “Sounds like our baby’s been thinkin’ too much.” He was grinning, his glasses sitting low on the bridge of his nose. “Let me put a stop to that.”

You opened your mouth, but you didn’t have time to respond. His mouth was already crashing into yours; swallowing down anything you might’ve said and replacing it with a breathy moan, a haze over your conscious thoughts.

You didn’t bother trying to talk your way out from underneath Satoru, again.

You couldn’t breathe.

It took you a moment to realize what was wrong, another to put together why. You felt the blunt tip of Suguru’s cock hit the back of your throat as Satoru’s chest pressed into yours, the latter pressing the air out of your lungs while the former forced you to choke what little was left up. Satoru had set a relentless pace; his thrusts brutal, his tempo erratic, his hips crashing into yours with enough force to bruise. Two of Suguru’s thick, calloused fingers were lodged between your body and Satoru’s drawing quick, precise patterns into your clit, while both of Satoru’s hands were wrapped around the underside of your thighs, keeping your knees pinned to your chest, your body folded in half and pressed into the mattress. They’d always been taller than you, with Suguru kneeling by your head and Satoru looming over you, they both seemed so much bigger. They both seemed so, so much stronger than they ever had before.

You couldn’t breathe. The lack of oxygen was already rushing to your head, already replacing your sense of logic with a shrill, panicked buzz. Your body hurt everywhere they touched it, the warmth pooling in your core and arousal left behind by previous climaxes not enough to dull the sharp sting of Satoru’s nails against your skin, not enough to soften the harsh edge of the grin you could only barely see spread across Suguru’s lips out of the corner of your eye. It was a struggle just to move your jaw, and even then, any sounds you were able to make were borderline incoherent – your little chants of ‘red, red, red’ so stifled and so garbled by Suguru’s cock that you couldn’t have blamed him for not hearing you at all. It was only when you tried to pull your head back that his eyes fell away from where Satoru’s cock was fucking into your dripping cunt and to your face, tears of distress already beginning to prick at the corners of your eyes. You let out one more panicked cry, hoping beyond hope that he’d be able to see the fear in your expression and know something was wrong, but that grin you had loved so much only widened, sharpened. “Like that, princess?” You felt his free hand on the top of your head, fingers carding through your hair while the patterns being pushed into your sensitive clit sped up, intensified. “Faster,” he cooed to Satoru, his voice laced with something vicious and mocking. “If she can still cry, she can still fuck.”

He didn’t mean it. He couldn’t mean it. Suguru just liked to be mean in bed, and Satoru liked to indulge him. That was the only reason they were doing this to you, that was the only reason Satoru listened; leaning that much more of his weight onto as his cock beat against the walls of your cunt. “Fuck,” Satoru muttered, as Suguru’s cock twitched against the roof of your mouth. “Got tighter when you said that. Is that what you want? For me and him to fuck you unconscious?”

This time, you didn’t try to pull back, you jerked – lurching out of Suguru’s hold, drawing back until you could gasp and pant and fill your aching lungs. “Red,” you half-choked, half-cried. “Red, red, stop, too much, I can’t—”

Satoru cut you off with a throat groan. You felt his form tense against yours, heard a shameless moan spill past his lips, and suddenly, it was like you’d forgotten how to breathe entirely. “Too close for that,” he muttered, his lips close enough to ghost over the shell of your ear. “You can take it for me, angel.”

You couldn’t, but you didn’t have time to tell him that. You opened your mouth, but all you could seem to spit out was a keening, pitiful whine as you felt something deep in your core pull taut and snap, as your cunt clenched around him and you came undone on Satoru’s cock for the nth time. At the same time, he went stiffed above you, forcing his hips flush with yours and filling your abused pussy with something thick and searing. The feeling was alien, strange. You could’ve sworn he said he would wear a condom, tonight.

It felt like you laid there for a small eternity – trapped under Satoru’s limp body, Suguru still petting idly through your hair. You stared unblinkingly at the ceiling until, days later, Satoru pulled himself upright with a raspy grunt, turning to Suguru. You were vaguely aware of his head being lowered into Suguru’s lap, moving to finish the job you hadn’t wanted to, but that seemed distant, unimportant. The room was too small, too closed-off. You weren’t getting enough air. You were too warm. You were too small. You—

You needed to leave.

Your body was on the edge of the mattress before your mind could make the conscious decision to move. You were shaking, despite the damp humidity clinging to your skin, but you tried to ignore that and focus on getting your feet underneath you, on fishing Satoru’s shirt off the floor and pulling it over your head. You’d need pants, too, and your wallet – maybe you’d still have a little cash stowed away, something from before Satoru insisted you start carrying one of his platinum cards. You’d spend the night in a hotel, or better yet, rent a car – get out of Tokyo altogether. You had a friend who lived outside of the city – or, you used to, at least. You couldn’t remember the last time you talked to someone other than Satoru and Suguru.

You made it to the doorway before Suguru called out. “Going somewhere, princess?”

You froze, but didn’t look over your shoulder. You could barely stand. You needed to go. “I just—I think I need a little air.”

“Give us a minute. Me or ‘toru should go with you.” There was a lull to his voice, an airiness just barely audible over the slick, sloppy sound of Satoru’s mouth moving over his shaft. You could remember admiring that about him, once, constantly thinking about how lucky you were to have such a cool, confident boyfriend. Right now, though, it was hard to think of his unfaltering composure as anything but inhuman. “It just wouldn’t be safe to let you—”

“I need air,” you repeated, because it was true, because you did. Little, black spots were already starting to dot your vision, and it felt like someone was trying to wrap their hands around your throat and squeeze. “I… I think I might be gone for a while, too.”

For all his tenderness, Suguru didn’t sound very concerned. “How long?”

“A couple hours,” you tried, and then, much more quietly, when he let out a disbelieving hum. “…a few days?”

This time, Suguru didn’t have to say anything at all. Leaning against the doorway, Satoru’s cum still dripping down the inside of your thigh, it took less than a minute for you to crack on your own. “I think we… I think I might need a little space.”

There was another beat of silence, occupied only by a soft groan from Suguru, the sound of noisy swallowing from Satoru. Finally, he sighed. You didn’t dare to look, but you could picture him shaking his head, smiling as he rolled his eyes. Acting as if you’d just said the stupidest thing in the world. “What do you think, Satoru? Have we waited long enough.”

“—too long.” Satoru’s voice was hoarse, breathy. In your peripheral, you could see him dragging the back of his hand across his lips as he raised his head. “We’ve had everything ready for months, now.”

That was all Suguru needed to hear. He turned back to you, letting his head lull to the side. “Come back to bed, won’t you, princess?”

You didn’t respond. What little air you still had hitched in your collapsing throat as you attempted to move forward, only for a hand to catch your shoulder and hold you in-place. It was Satoru – now standing less than a full step behind you. He didn’t bother with a warning before wrapping his free arm around your waist and dragging you into his chest and off of your feet. You made a weak effort to thrash, to squirm, to dig your nails into the forearm laid over your midriff, but Satoru didn’t make a sound, didn’t let you go, only hauling you back to where Suguru sat on the edge of the mattress. You shouldn’t have felt as betrayed as you did. They’d both always been able to pick you up and throw you around like a kitten, being carried from place to place by its scruff. It was always only going to be a matter of time before they stopped listening to your half-hearted protests entirely.

“Over the knee,” Suguru said with a sort of flippant, beckoning gesture. “I want to make sure we get off on the right foot.”

Wordlessly, unceremoniously, you were dropped face-down into Suguru’s lap – his thighs pressing into your exposed stomach. Satoru lowered himself to the floor in front of you, sitting cross-legged and reaching out, cupping your face delicately. More out of reflex than anything intelligent, you tried to push yourself up, but a hand on the small of your back was enough to keep you paralyzed. Sometime between the doorway and the bed, the shaking had gotten worse. You doubted you’d be able to keep your legs underneath you, anymore. “Twenty-five,” he announced – an executioner reading out his victim’s sentence. “Fifteen for trying to leave us, and ten more for not listening to me. Does that sound fair, Satoru.”

“So mean, Sugu’,” Satoru whined, but you could already see a crooked smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. “The poor thing doesn’t even know what’s going on.”

“Which is why we have to make a strong impression. I want her to know there’ll be consequences for misbehavior.” You felt his hand drifting up the length of your spine, lingering on the sensitive junction between your shoulder blades. “Twenty-five, okay, princess? I’m going to need you to count for me – if you lose track, we’ll have to start over.”

“Suguru, ‘toru, I don’t—I don’t understand what—” You were cut off by a sudden, bruising blow to the plush of your ass – all force, no friction. It took you a second to realize that it was Suguru’s hand, another to consciously acknowledge that he’d spanked you. Like you were some bratty toddler. Like he wanted to hurt you.

It took another lash to know you out of your spell-bound state and send a keening, pitchy cry spilling past your lips. The tears you’d managed to hold back minutes ago were back in full-force, dripping down your cheeks and pooling on your chin, accompanied by the occasional sniffle or ragged sob. Suguru hummed, but any sympathy he might’ve had remained unexpressed, hidden behind a thick veil of strict impassivity. “I need you to count. I know it’s hard, but it’ll only get more difficult if you don’t cooperate.” He paused, clicked his tongue. “We’re still on one. Are you going to be good, or do I have to get the belt?”

“Hurts, Suguru, you’re hurting—”

Another blow, this one to the back of your thighs and twice as harsh as the first two. Meekly, you mumbled a weak “…one.”

You couldn’t see past your own tears by the fifth strike, and by the tenth, you were sobbing openly. Each blow leaves your skin burning and your ass pulsing, but despite everything, he was far from brutal. His pace was measured, precise, and he was strategic – careful to never abuse the same spot to the point of numbness. After the fifteenth, you sniffled and forced yourself to raise your head, meeting Satoru’s eyes and silently pleading for his pity, for his help. Rather than empathy, you found a glassy stare and his hand in his lap, pumping idly over his cock. A few hours ago, you could picture yourself teasing him for not being able to go a full minute without someone touching him, even himself. Right now, the sight alone was enough to make bile rise into the back of your throat.

His thumb ran over your cheek, his palm settling under your chin and tilting your head back. “Don’t give me that look. This is twice as gentle as he’s ever been with me.”

By the time it was over, you were near-inconsolable, every number followed immediately by a string of distorted gibberish, a disjointed plea for him to stop, or be gentle, or let you go. You laid limp across Suguru’s lap as he drew slow, tender patterns into your abused flesh, every little touch sparking a new kind of pain, dragging another ragged sob up from somewhere deep and visceral in your chest. He was talking to you, cooing sweet nothings, but you couldn’t hear him. You didn’t want to hear him. You wanted to leave.

But, you couldn’t, and even if you’d had the strength to try, you wouldn’t have gotten very far. You hadn’t seen him move, but at some point, Satoru must’ve left the room. When your crying began to wane and you could bare the thought of opening your eyes, you found him standing in front of you, holding a glass of water in one hand and three white pills in the other. “Open up,” he said, drawing out each syllable for a beat longer than he really had to. “It’ll help with the pain, promise.”

You pursed your lips, grit your teeth, but Suguru’s thumb pressed into a fresh bruise and fear immediately overwhelmed your sense of caution. Suguru took precious seconds to reposition you – drawing you up by your shoulders to straddle his thigh – and Satoru’s hand found its way back to your cheek, his thumb tapping your bottom lip and slipping onto your tongue as you, reluctantly, opened your mouth. The pills were first, allowed to sit on your tongue until their bitterness reached the back of your throat, then the water, poured sloppily enough for the excess to spill out of the corners of your mouth. The reaction was instantaneous – a wave of nausea, then fatigue, your eyes immediately too heavy to keep open, your body too distant to justify attempting to control. You went slack, falling against Suguru, and he chuckled, bowing his head.

The last thing you felt was his mouth against your throat before everything went numb.

You woke up hours later, tucked into a bed that wasn’t yours and in more pain than you’d ever felt before.

Shock and terror startled you into consciousness before you could so much as attempt to fade back into blissful oblivion. You tried to curl up, to make yourself as small and as safe as possible, but your leg caught on something – a leather cuff, discovered after throwing the sheets that’d been laid over you to the side. A shackle, lined in velvet and sitting loosely at the base of your ankle, a silver chain connecting it to an unseen point underneath the bed. You gave it another tug, just to check, and unsurprisingly, it refused to budge. You choose to look away before the pit quickly opening up inside of your chest could deepen any further.

Instead, you turned your attention outward – to the rest of the bedroom. It wasn’t the one you shared with Satoru and Suguru, or the undecorated guestroom Satoru had semi-converted into a home office. The walls were a pale pink, the shelves already stocked with stuffed animals, fairy lights, jewelry boxes that (knowing Satoru) were no doubt filled to the brim. You weren’t wearing Suguru’s shirt anymore, either. Your blood ran cold as you glanced down and found yourself in a pastel blue nightgown – all lace and silk and frills no one could ever hope to actually sleep in. You didn’t know whether to be disgusted that they’d re-dressed you while you were unconscious, without your permission, or thankful they hadn’t waited until you were awake enough to try and stop them.

Seconds seemed to move in thick, dripping clumps. You couldn’t be sure how long passed until your disoriented stillness was interrupted, but by the time the plain, white door (a neat row of undone deadbolts visible above to the knob) swung open, Satoru stepping through with Suguru following shortly behind him. Automatically, you started to move towards them, but caught yourself, pressing you back into the headboard and crossing your arms over your chest, as if that gave you any kind of authority. As if there was any authority you could have, chained to the floor in the bedroom of a pre-schooler.

“You were beginning to worry us,” Suguru started, sitting on the foot of the bed. “But, then again, our little princess was always a delicate one, wasn’t she?”

You stiffened, bristled. You opened your mouth, but closed it as Satoru draped an arm over your shoulders, collapsing next to you. “Here,” he said, holding something out. “Suguru wanted to make you ask, but I’m not that stingy.”

You attempted to shift away from him, but Satoru had never made things that easy. He clung to you that much tighter as your eyes fell to his hand, finding—

A cup.

A sippy cup, pink and plastic and decorated with little, glittering clouds.

The nausea was immediate, nearly overwhelming. You wanted to vomit. You wanted to throw it across the room. You wanted to do anything but accept it, but your throat was bone-dry, a steady throbbing already begging to root in the back of your skull. Wordlessly, you snatched it out of his hand and (with more than a little strain) pulled off the lid, drinking as quickly as you could. Satoru’s nails scraped against your bicep, but neither of them commented.

Suguru waited until you were finished to go on. “You’ll get used to it, after a few weeks. It’s really not that different from our prior relationship, just a few aesthetic changes ‘toru and I thought a—” He paused, grinned. “—softer environment might suit you.”

“We can be more honest now, too.” Satoru sounded too giddy, too happy. “Those last couple of days practically killed me – having to watch you leave the apartment, acting all independent n’ shit. This way, there won’t be anything stopping us from keeping you all to ourselves.”

A beat passed in silence. It took you a moment to realize you were supposed to say something, and another to actually open your mouth, to find your voice when all you wanted to do was shrivel up and shut your eyes. “I don’t really understand what’s going on,” you muttered, like that would make it true. Like enough stuttering, simpering obliviousness would be what made them change their minds. “When are you going to let me go?”

Beside you, you heard Satoru try and fail to suppress a breath of a laugh, and Suguru’s grin only seemed to widen.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yandere jjk #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #gojo satoru x reader #yandere gojo satoru #yandere geto suguru #geto suguru x reader

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strwberri-milk · 3 months ago

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Can you do the lad boys reaction to reader getting hurt and not telling them cause the reader didn’t want to worry them?

id all recc this set and this set too!!

It's very hard to hide symptoms of pain from Zayne because he will immediately clock you. He notices immediately if you're limping or seem to be favouring certain movements. Like a professional he'll watch you for a moment, trying to figure out if he's just imagining it or if you're currently actually in pain.

You know he knows when you turn and see him staring right where you're experiencing the most pain. You know then that he's figured out your ruse and there's no escaping it any further. You sigh and show him the injury, thankfully wrapped up so he can't yell at you for leaving it.

You tell him that you just didn't want to worry him and to that he just rolls his eyes. Not telling him just makes things worse and that's very evident by the way that he undoes your bandages to re-wrap them himself. Giving his hands something to do distracts him from the lecture he wants to give you, telling you gently but sternly that hiding your injuries from him isn't the way to go. It just makes him worry more if he doesn't understand what's wrong with you.

Xavier knows that you should be much more injured than you're telling him you are. He saw the hit you took and he knows it would have taken him out for longer than it seemed to take you. But, since you insist you're fine he decides not to push it.

When he catches you keeled over in pain because you breathed funny is when he gets very worried. He knows exactly what the problem is but instead of directly confronting you about it he chooses to ignore the cause and focus on helping you get better. There's an unspoken understanding between the two of you now that you know he knows you're hurt but he's being kind enough not to say anything.

He decides to keep quiet about it now since it's the first time you've hid it from him. He's giving you the opportunity to come clean about your injury the next time because he trusts that you really meant well in not telling him. That doesn't stop him from asking you some pointed questions about your injuries or missions next time, keeping an eye on you in case you decide to take matters into your own hands and hide from him again.

Rafayel is not amused by your antics (as evidenced in one of my most favourite Tender Moments). He knows you're hiding your injury from him and he hates that you feel like you need to do so just to avoid worrying him.

He scolds you for doing so, condemning you to bed as he putzes around you like a chicken with its head cut off. He's scolding you too, telling you that you need to stop getting yourself into dangerous situations and then lying about it because you think he can't handle it. He wants to shoulder your pain as well and you refusing to let him just saddens him.

He ends up becoming even more observant if you refuse to tell him about future injuries, making sure that any minor injuries are indeed that - minor injuries. If you end up getting more hurt he just ends up doting over you again which really isn't the worst thing on Earth.

Sylus also knows that you've been hurt as soon as he sees you. Every little thing about you is something he remembers so when you start to act a little off it only takes him an extra two seconds to deduce you must be in pain. You can try and lie to him all you want but the second those intense eyes meet yours you feel yourself faltering. He's fully aware of this affect and is more than happy to constantly use it on you.

You're not put to rest, Sylus making sure you have everything you could need at the touch of your fingertips. You are spoiled rotten and pampered so he can make sure you don't injure yourself further. This is all, of course, after some scolding as he shakes his head at you in disbelief, telling you there's absolutely no reason to lie to him about your injuries. He isn't mad at you, just disappointed and somehow you feel like that's worse.

He is very gentle with you the whole time throughout thankfully. His words may bite just the slightest bit but you know that it's just because he loves you. You really can't doubt that when you see how softly he looks at you, the gentle way his hands run over your body to avoid hurting you further.

#love and deepspace x reader #l&ds x reader #zayne x reader #xavier x reader #rafayel x reader #sylus x reader #l&ds zayne x reader #l&ds xavier x reader #l&ds rafayel x reader #l&ds sylus x reader #lads zayne x reader #lads rafayel x reader #lads sylus x reader #lnds zayne x reader #lnds xavier x reader #lnds rafayel x reader #lnds sylus x reader

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grelleshighheels · 1 year ago

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patiently waiting for animated professor michaelis so we have the holy trinity 🧘‍♀️

i'm sorry for the person i'll become when HE gets animated

#currently re-reading the weston arc I NEED TO CALM DOWN!#but will i? no!#my emotional support demon-butler-teacher whatever you are #will i watch the kuromyu again? maybe??#kuroshitsuji #black butler #sebastian michaelis #black butler season 4 #kuroshitsuji season 4 #kuroshitsuji weston arc #weston college #kuromyu #tateishi toshiki #kuroshitsuji musical #kuroshitsuji musical secrets of the public school

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elssero · 3 months ago

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streamer !

.d.kaminari

♰ nsfw, pro hero denki x f!reader, male masturbation

pro hero chargebolt logging onto twitch on his day off too see his favourite pretty streamer play her favourite games or talk about whatever’s currently trending.

it’s his favourite past time, he spends all week looking forward to his day off so he can catch up on all your streams he missed this week.

he gets especially giddy if you actually stream that day so he can watch it live.

at first his infatuation with you is innocent, your a rising streamer just like he’s a rising hero!! your situations are so similar in that sense, your both adjusting to your new found fame and your both rising the charts of your respected careers very fast.

he admires you! you seem to interact with fans and the media so easily so that he just can’t help but be drawn to you ! it’s not his fault ! but it helps that your exactly his type.

he feels incredibly lucky to be able to catch one of your streams live, your currently around thirty minutes into a just chatting stream, your doing a q&a more so aimed at new fans who don’t know all that much about you yet.

but he knows, he knows you answered questions extremely similar to the ones your answering now in your q&a two months ago but still he can’t help the wide grin that appears on his face everytime you giggle, or at the little smirk you give the camera when you answer a question that could be deemed a little risky.

he watches the whole stream with anticipation, despite being able to correctly guess all the answers your giving, he is genuinely interested in what you have to say, he swears!! it’s not his fault the bludge in his pants keeps growing everytime you re-adjust the way your sitting or when you move your arms to type something on your keyboard and the action pushes your tits together slightly. he’s really is trying his hardest to ignore the growing feeling in his sweats but it’s getting sore !

not wanting to lose control completely he begins to palm himself over the material of his sweats, just slight rubbing down on himself to help the ache he feels from watching you do something as normal as answering a few questions from your fans.

your forty-five minutes into the stream now and a donation pops up with a question that you’ve never answered before, denki immediately straightens up, beyond eager to hear the answer to the question.

“hey pretty! first of all i love your streams but i need you to settle a debate for me! of all the new young heros that have had their debut this year which is your favourite?

you immediately giggle and thank the donator for their donation and their compliment, the question seems to still you for a second, you look deep in thought and denki is on the edge of his seat awaiting your answer.

you suddenly break out into a huge grin and begin to answer the question “firstly i think their all very inspiring! being able to use your quirk to help people in the way they do is very admirable i can’t help but always feel safe when i hear news of yet another save from our hero’s”

denkis breath hitches, he feels like he can’t breathe, you think he’s inspiring. you admire him.

“however, if i had to pick a favourite i guess it would probably be chargebolt” you take a second to think before you continue “i’ve seen a few of his interviews and i would say he’s clearly very charismatic, he seems like he would be easy to get along with!”

he watches in a trance as you giggle at the end of your sentence before taking a breathe and biting down a small smirk you say-

“he’s also very cute so that helps too!”

denki swears he could’ve came in his pants right there and then. you just admitted to all of your viewers that he’s your favorite up and coming hero. you just admitted to all your viewers that you think he’s cute.

he’s scrambling to reverse your stream to hear you say it again, to make sure he isn’t dreaming, when he hears it come out of your mouth for the 3rd- no 4th time he’s sure he isn’t hearing things.

he feels like he��s going feral, you his favourite twitch streamer, someone he’s been watching from afar getting his rocks off too for months just said that he’s your favourite. just like how your his favourite too!

his dick twitches in his sweats and he doesn’t even hesitate to take it out like he normally does, any guilt he’s ever felt for touching himself to the idea of you is completely out the window, he wonders what you’d think if you saw him now, your favourite pro-hero scrambling to get his dick out while he watches your stream… would you enjoy it? you did say you thought he was cute… maybe you would enjoy it.

the thought has him almost drooling. his dick is twitching in his hand as he moves his hand up and down his cock at a pace he’s never done before. he’s so pent up that he feels like a teenager again, quickly jacking himself off in search of a realise he knows is already approaching.

he’s moaning at this point, completely drowning out what your now saying.. something about your outfit? he doesn’t know but what he does know is that you looking absolutely breathtaking while saying it.

he wants to last he really does but he can’t help it, not when your looking into the camera like that, almost like your looking directly into his eyes, encouraging him.

he thinks about it for a second, he thinks about you whispering in his ear, telling him to cum for you.. urging him to finish himself off to the sound of your voice.

he bottoms out with a whine of your name, shooting thick ropes so far they hit his laptop screen, he’s panting, regaining his breathe as your voice starts to become more clear from the foggy state he was just in. he doesn’t feel guilty, not like he usually does, instead he feels a sense of pride.. or maybe contempt?

he clips the part of your stream when you talk about him, adding it to a file he has saved “my favorite streamer<3” he cleans the cum from his laptop as he fully calms down, head still a little spacey from the moment he just had. his phone is blowing up with notifications, hundreds of tweets tagging him in the clip that someone had already reposted, in just a few minutes it’s clear that people think positively of what you’ve said about him with many people agreeing and he feels that all familiar sense of pride.

you notice it too, you gasp at the sudden rise in viewers, thanking everyone for their support and ending the stream abruptly. normally he would feel a little disappointed but nothing can move him from his high right now. he waits a couple minutes in a state of awe, he can’t believe it. truly.

just as he begins to stand up, deciding to order a little victory take out for himself he gets a dm on twitter from an account he follows.

yn: hi chargebolt! i’m not sure if you’ve seen the clip circling around but i wanted to send you a quick message to apologise for any trouble it’s causing you or your team! if you need me to put out a statement i’m happy to do so, all the best!”

okay now he can’t believe it. you just dmed him, mere minutes after he’d came like a sexually frustrated virgin to your stream, he’s convinced he must be dreaming, but the once again growing tent in his pants proves that he’s not.

chargebolt: “don’t worry about it sweetheart, there’s much worse things that i could be dealing with today, i don’t think i’ll need you to put out a statement but i’d happily treat you to dinner instead?”

#bnha #mha fanfiction #mha x reader #mha denki #denki kaminari #denki x reader #bnha denki #denki smut #mha #mha smut #mha x reader smut #denki kaminari smut #mha x you #bnha x reader #bnha denki kaminari #mha x female reader #denki headcanons #denki x y/n

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