#god he looked so good and the choker! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

naughtyjjk · 4 months ago

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being seduced by stripper gojo

characters: gojo x fem reader warnings: 18+, smut, stripper, strip club, pole dancing, revealing outfits, lap dance, strip tease, dirty talk, dry humping

you have no idea what compelled you to come here, but there’s no denying that you’ve been stressed lately, and you need to let loose, at least for one night. the atmosphere is nice—all cool toned colours and dim lighting and music loud enough to drown out any thoughts of doubt you might have about spending the late evening hours at a strip club of all places. the most highly rated strip club, in fact, with the hottest men around. there’s bound to be someone who’s your type. or so you’ve been told.

these places are designed to be inviting, you know. but that doesn’t mean you’re immune to their tactics, enticing viewers into a world of sin. everywhere you look, there are attractive bodies flaunting around the room, guys with flirty smiles and skin showing and downright scandalous outfits, all giving you more attention than you’d normally get anywhere else.

admittedly, you’re already kind of turned on just from being in the midst of all this. maybe that makes you an easy target. maybe you don’t care. walking around, you let yourself enjoy everything there is to offer, and it doesn’t take much to learn that you’ve arrived just in time for something exciting that’s about to happen.

tonight, there seems to be only one topic of conversation: gojo satoru, one of the most highly requested dancers, is going to make an appearance. from what you’ve gathered so far, he’s supposedly very good at his job, and many people have been anticipating his show this whole week. and it’s scheduled to start in only a few minutes.

finding a seat for yourself, you join the crowd in waiting for the upcoming performance. because you’re curious now. all of the workers here have been extremely good-looking and know how to flirt with the audience, using their bodies to their advantage. what is it that sets satoru apart from the rest?

thankfully, you don’t have to wait long because the person who steps onto the stage next can only be satoru, given the cheers that immediately erupt into the air as soon as he walks into view. seeing him now, you can understand right away why he has such a well-known reputation among the regular patrons here.

satoru enters the stage wearing very little, which seems to be the norm among the dancers. there’s a black choker around his neck. his entire upper body is fully exposed, save for the two thick bands of suspenders that run down his chest, conveniently covering his nipples. lower, a pair of tight, tight underwear hangs off his hips, barely functioning to hide anything.

beside you, you hear people saying, holy fuck, he’s hot, and yeah. you wholeheartedly agree. if you’re being honest, satoru looks like someone who has stepped right out of your personal wet dream, someone you’re definitely going to dream about again in the future.

the music for his routine starts, a filthy beat that echoes deep in your bones. satoru begins to move, swaying his hips to the rhythm as he walks toward the audience, touching himself all over. feeling himself slowly, sensually. his hands run down his neck, fingers sprayed out as they drift down to his chest and stomach before finally stopping at his crotch.

he’s confident, smile so fucking cocky but undeniably hot at the same time. he knows he’s good. he’s got the audience right where he wants them as soon as he stepped out. there are dozens of people watching, but it feels like he’s looking straight at you when he swipes his tongue across his lips, biting down on the bottom lip suggestively.

and—oh. oh god. you squeeze your legs together, arousal shooting straight to your pussy. it’s getting increasingly uncomfortable to sit there, heat rushing south, as you anticipate what’s coming next.

but you can’t look away, either. satoru is now spreading his legs farther apart, thrusting his hips into nothing, but it’s somehow absolutely mesmerizing. he works his body with experience, in smooth rolls that show off all his muscles as they flex and contract. one hand runs through his hair while he looks out at the crowd with darkened eyes, and the other cups between his legs, teasing both himself and the viewers.

it riles up the audience, riles you up, because when satoru finally removes that hand, it becomes obvious that he’s at least half hard.

he walks over to the pole in the middle of the stage and hooks a leg around it, pressing his erection against the metal to grind against it a few times, seemingly getting himself off. his eyes are hooded, lips parted. it’s a display of rehearsed seduction and it fucking works because you’re fully captivated, eyes fixated solely on him.

eventually, satoru spins and turns around so that his back is against the pole. he sinks down in one fluid movement, knees spreading wide, leaning forward so that his back is arched as he raises his ass higher. every action he makes draws attention, the arousal tangible and thick in the air. when he shakes his hips, you can’t help but feel wetness gushing out of your pussy, wishing you were there in the place of the pole. wishing you could feel those sinful, gyrating hips touching you instead.

as the dance continues, you don’t know how much time passes. it could be only a few minutes or hours that you sit there, and all you’re capable of doing in the moment is follow satoru’s every movement, engraining the scene in front of you into your mind forever.

turning back around, satoru winks in your direction—you can’t be sure if it’s at you or someone beside you—but your body stills anyway, pussy aching with desire. you watch as satoru makes one final spin around the pole, slow enough to show off all angles of himself, before he drops to the ground again, hips thrusting out.

the routine ends with satoru basking in the cheers of the audience and you breathing heavily in your seat, so fucking turned on.

normally, this is when you would leave, but you still haven’t recovered from that performance, so you sit there a while longer. hoping that you’ll come back to your senses soon.

the music changes and other dancers fill the stage, but you’re not paying attention to any of that anymore. you gaze follows satoru as he disappears behind the left wing and reappears descending down the steps that lead to the main floor, where a group of his fans wait to greet him. they chat for a while and then satoru turns his head and somehow, through the crowd of people between the two of you, locks eyes directly with you.

satoru says a farewell to the group, something that has them squealing, and makes his way across the room, walking with purpose in your direction. not a second later, you find him right in front of you, the sudden proximity enough to make your whole body heat up.

glancing down at you, satoru says, “hey there, pretty girl.”

“um,” you reply intelligently. you blink and take a look around to make sure that he’s actually talking to you. “hi.”

running a hand down his chest, satoru sways his body lightly to the music and somehow manages to make it look natural. “did you enjoy the show?”

you nod, mouth suddenly dry. you’re still processing the fact that satoru is here, so close, talking to you. flirting and clearly interested in you, for whatever reason. it’s unexpected, but you’re definitely not complaining. “yeah, it was—good. you’re good.”

“just good?”

“no, i mean—” you pause, then blurt out, “you’re hot.”

a slow smile stretches across satoru’s face at that, and he takes a step forward, inviting himself onto your lap. his hips are lifted just enough that he’s not actually in contact, body making slow, lazy rolls. teasing. “what’s your name?”

you tell him, stammering, pulse beating a mile per minute. he’s so fucking close to you. he’s so sexy that you can hardly form a coherent sentence. choking back a moan, your hands grip the edge of your seat to refrain from doing something that you’ll regret later.

a series of increasingly filthy thoughts run through your head and in that moment, all you can think about is how you want to rip off satoru’s clothes, what he would look like fully naked. how it would feel to hold his cock, the weight of it in your hands. his cock sliding and grinding against your pussy—

fuck. you have to turn away and remind yourself to chill the hell out. to not fall so easily for the charms of the dancer whose job is to make you get worked up like this. but, well, there’s no denying that satoru is good at everything he does. and he’s hot, like you said. he looks even better up close than he did on stage. so when you feel a warm hand on your jaw, guiding your face back to the front, how could you ever resist?

“baby,” satoru says, lowering himself so that he’s properly seated on your lap now. in this position, you can feel his hard-on against your pussy, the bulge of his pants pressed right between your legs. you swallow thickly. “i’m going to get jealous if you keep turning away. look at me.”

your breath catches in your throat. it’s like satoru has you locked in a trance, the rest of the world disappearing around you because nothing else matters. you have nowhere left to look but at him, at the way sweat rolls down his abs, strong thighs caged around your legs.

“yeah, that’s it.” satoru moves his hips just slightly, but it’s enough to make you really feel him against your own body. jesus christ. “focus on me and how good i can make you feel.”

it’s not fully grinding, because he’s still teasing you more than anything, but the only thing separating the two of you is your own pants and the very thin fabric that satoru is wearing. if it weren’t for those, you would actually be fucking. the mere thought of it has you letting out an involuntary moan.

at the sound, satoru perks up and smirks, eyes darkening. he works his hips harder, applying more pressure, and your brain effectively short circuits. “mm, you’re wet, aren’t you? i bet your panties are soaked for me. so fucking turned on already. such a good girl.”

oh, you know. you don’t need satoru to tell you how far gone you are now, how your pussy is aching and throbbing within the confines of your pants. you’re almost embarrassed by the growing feeling of lust coursing through you, the want and desire you feel toward him. this is quite possibly the horniest you’ve ever been in your life, and you’re losing all sense of rationality embarrassingly fast.

“y-you—” you start before you have to stop because satoru lines up his cock directly with your pussy and ruts against you filthily, calculated. it makes you gasp, bucking up on instinct when he retreats. and fuck, you’re panting now, having been given a taste of the kind of pleasure satoru can provide you, and it only makes you want more.

“go on,” he encourages, far too amused. “what were you saying?”

eventually, with visible effort, you manage to choke out, “you’re—ah—you’re hard, too.”

“i am. all because of you, baby,” satoru says suggestively and impossibly inviting. his mouth moves to your ear to whisper, “how about we go somewhere quieter? just the two of us?”

a shudder runs down your spine, arousal swirling in the pit of your stomach. and you can tell exactly what he’s implying, knows that you should probably be a bit more cautious in these situations, but it’s hard to think logically when someone like satoru is this close to you. giving you an offer that you could never turn down. you don’t even realize that you’re nodding rather eagerly until you’re being pulled up from your seat, that enticing grin back on satoru’s face as he leads you away from the main stage.

the two of you go into a private room that’s small but well-furnished. the lighting is dim and seems to cast a spotlight on the sofa in the center of the room. music is still present here, but not as loud. unlike the main stage, you have no problem hearing satoru when he gives his next instructions.

“make yourself comfortable,” he tells you, and you go over to sit on the couch.

you can’t believe this is happening. there’s arousal thrumming inside you, veins running hot with the anticipation of what’s to come.

in front of you, satoru unclips his suspenders and tosses them aside. they didn’t hide much to begin with, but even still, you take the opportunity to drink in the sight of his fully naked chest. and god, does he have a nice body—strong arms, well-toned abs, hardened nipples. seriously the whole package in one insanely attractive person.

satoru walks closer toward you and doesn’t waste any time, sinking down to his knees in front of the couch. he pushes your legs apart and runs his hands up your trembling thighs.

“need some help with this?” he nods between your legs, the hint of a smirk dancing on his lips. a hand passes over your clothed pussy, lightly grazing against it, and the groan that escapes you is awful.

“please,” you breathe out. you hate that you sound so wrecked already.

it makes satoru grin as he leans forward, rising higher. “don’t worry, i’ll make you feel good. but there’s just one little rule that you have to keep in mind…” he trails off, pausing for suspense. his hands slip under your shirt, traveling up to squeeze your breasts outside your bra. at the same time, he whispers into your ear, “no touching.”

you gasp, arching forward. your mind goes blank for a second. fingers twitching, you have to physically stop yourself from reaching out, already coming close to breaking the only rule you’ve been given. arousal rushes through you at once, and you wonder, not for the first time, how it’s possible for satoru to know exactly what turns you on.

“fuck, s-satoru—”

“mm,” he hums, satisfied. “you look good like that. so fucking desperate for me.”

then he gets up, throws one leg on either side of you, effectively straddling you, and sits on your lap. he rocks his hips gently back and forth a few times before wrapping his arms around your neck. satoru is looking at you with hooded eyes, with pure lust and desire, and the intensity of his stare makes you feel wanted like you never have before.

jesus christ, you curse mentally. this is seduction perfected to an artform. there’s a beautiful, naked man giving you a lap dance and this has only just started but you’re already dripping in your pants.

you’re not prepared for when satoru brings your faces close, just mere centimeters apart. it knocks the breath out of you, heart beating wildly in your chest. satoru’s mouth is parted, your lips brushing, almost kissing but not quite. all it would take is for you to lift your head, chasing after him, giving in to the ever-growing desire to taste him. but his words from earlier echo as a warning in your mind: no touching.

“did you think you could break me that easily?” you ask, feigning composure. except it’s obvious just how affected you are by everything. you’re sure that satoru can feel your pussy throbbing helplessly in your pants now that you’re this close to each other.

“yes,” satoru says, confident. and you don’t even care that you’re being played so easily; your traitorous mind only thinks of pressing those smirking lips against your own. “i think i could. looks like i almost got you there, anyway.”

he ghosts his lips down your neck, almost kissing, almost tender, but never actually making contact. his warm breath follows, trailing down to your collarbones. and you want him, you want him so badly. you’ve never wanted a man more than you want satoru now, but you’re not allowed to do anything. it’s so fucking cruel.

in your seat, you shudder. your body reacts to his every action, and you’re sure that it’s only encouraging him. “f-fuck, no fair.”

“that’s right, baby,” satoru murmurs. “i could make you forget everything but me… where you are, how to think, the one rule you’re supposed to follow…”

swallowing hard, you have to grip your hands on the couch, knuckles turning white, to stop yourself from reaching out. you know that all of this will be over if you touch him, but it’s so, so tempting.

the worst part is that the rule doesn’t apply both ways. you’re not allowed to touch, but satoru can. and he takes full advantage of it, hands roaming all over like he’s starved for contact, under your shirt and up to your chest, snaking behind to unclip your bra. you gasp when you feel his bare hand groping your breasts, holding the weight of them in his palms, massaging them, playing with your nipples. he flicks at the sensitive nubs. his thumbs circle around them, pinching them with just the right amount of pressure between two fingers.

he does this until he draws out a low, guttural moan from you. the cocky grin is back on his face, and you hate that you’re playing right into his hands, but you can’t help it. he’s fucking good at what he does.

soon, he abandons your breasts, sliding his hands back down your sides to trace smooth circles on your inner thighs. he grazes over your pussy countless times but never applies any pressure, never fully gives you what you want. it’s not enough, and you can’t stop yourself from bucking your hips up to meet him.

and then—fuck, you think you’re going to lose your mind. satoru unzips your pants and pushes it down just far enough for the dampness of your panties to be exposed. you can’t even deny it: you’re so wet, so turned on. he runs a single finger over your panties, feeling your arousal, and you moan brokenly, thinking about having those long fingers inside you.

throughout all this, you wonder how you must look, so desperate and struggling to hold yourself back. you’re panting, chest heaving, entire body burning on fire. when satoru pulls away to get a better look at you, a charge of tension passes between you, so thick it’s almost suffocating.

“naughty girl,” he murmurs, still rubbing you over your panties. never giving you a chance to breathe. “you must be aching for it.”

you moan again and feel yourself getting even wetter, soaking the material further. “m-more, satoru, please—”

you’re not even sure what it is that you’re asking for, but satoru only grins before removing himself from your lap. a whimper escapes you and you almost beg him to stay, until you realize what it is that he’s doing.

a private show, just like the one he gave on stage earlier, but much more intimate and filthy. satoru doesn’t hold anything back, moving to the beat echoing in the background, performing body rolls one after another. and now that he’s standing in front of you, showing off his body, it’s obvious that he’s fully hard. there’s an impressive bulge between his legs, making his already tight underwear seem even tighter. the material stretches to accommodate his length, to the point where it looks like it could break at any moment.

your eyes follow his every move, every shift of his muscles, holding your breath and physically unable to look away. because satoru is thrusting his hips like he’s—like he’s actually fucking someone right then and there, letting out increasingly suggestive sounds, grunts and moans that will haunt you at night. and you so badly want to spread your legs and have him thrust into you instead.

and then—oh god. satoru hooks his fingers onto the waistband of his underwear, a thin strap that wraps around his pelvis, and begins to pull it down but pauses just as it’s about to slip over his cock. he’s watching you closely, eyes flickering back and forth between your face and your dripping pussy. and you know how eager you must seem, shamefully excited to see what the thin fabric conceals.

but satoru only smiles wickedly and removes his hands entirely, spinning away to the beat of the music. he twists and turns, goes back to thrusting his hips tantalizingly in the air. he runs his hands down his chest, then dips into his underwear again.

“i’m not supposed to take this off, you know,” satoru says, teasing it lower and lower. “but for you, i want to. i really want to.”

you swallow. “w-well—”

the waistband sinks lower, revealing more of his smooth skin. “you’d like that too, wouldn’t you?”

there’s no way you could lie in a situation like this, so you give up all sense of dignity and say, “fuck yes, yes, i—”

your pussy agrees vehemently, throbbing between your legs. you have to choke back a moan when you see the fabric catching and releasing at the head of satoru’s cock, the very tip of it poking out into view.

“i’m sure you do,” satoru hums.

he pulls it back up, playing innocently with the strap, and you swear you could die from the anticipation alone. this has to be the best strip tease you’ve ever gotten by far, but also the most frustrating. you’ve never wanted to rip the clothes off someone so fucking badly before.

but satoru isn’t done yet. he turns around so that his back is facing you and bends over before pulling his underwear all the way down in one go, revealing what little had been hidden by the satin, his ass on full display. then, all too quickly, it’s back up again and this time you do let out an unfiltered groan.

fuck, satoru is beyond skilled at getting you riled up, making your pussy so damn wet with arousal. and he knows it too. when he turns back to face you, the smile on his face is absolutely cruel and he starts to sway his hips again, in that hypnotic way that makes you want to beg him to fuck you already.

“shit, just—” you can’t help but let out a desperate whine. “take it off. please.”

satoru grins like he’s got you right where he wants you and winks. “since you asked so nicely.”

he finally begins to remove his underwear completely—except he goes slow, painfully and torturously slow, revealing one inch of his cock at a time. you’re on the edge of your seat. it feels like an eternity before the whole thing comes off and satoru steps out of it, tossing the last of his clothing somewhere to the side.

for a while, you can only stare. you’re entranced by the way his cock curves up to his abdomen, bobbing in the air, flushed and hard and demanding attention. you’re embarrassingly obvious in the way your eyes are fixated on it, wanting to trace the prominent vein on the underside. wanting to touch and taste it.

that’s when you notice—satoru isn’t just hard; he’s wet, too. beads of precum roll down his shaft, proof that all of this is turning him on as well, that it’s not only for show. a hand wraps around the cock, stroking a few times, and it takes a second for you to realize that he’s jerking himself off right in front of you. holy shit.

“well, what do you think?” satoru asks, twisting his hand and moaning. the tip of his cock is flushed red, now leaking more than before. “was it worth the wait?”

you nod, not trusting yourself to speak, and the noise that escapes you is not human. but it’s very, very appreciative. you feel your pussy pulsing hard between your legs, wanting so badly for satoru to touch you like how he’s touching himself.

what you don’t expect next is for him to let go entirely and drop down to the floor. smirking, he looks up at you from that position, at the growing wetness where your pussy is hidden behind your panties, and licks his lips. then, on all fours, satoru starts to crawl toward you with evident desire on his face until he’s kneeling right in front of you once again.

heart hammering away in your chest, you swallow thickly as a fresh wave of arousal washes over you. satoru runs his hands up your thighs, rising so that he’s sitting on your lap again, but still not quite close enough for your hips to touch.

he leans forward to lick your ear and you immediately shudder. in a low, seductive voice, he whispers, “i guess you can resist the temptation, after all; you haven’t touched me even once. good girl. do you see how fucking hard i am for you?”

the praise makes your head spin, and you let out a shaky breath, groaning. “s-satoru…”

“want to feel my cock on your pussy?”

that makes your pussy throb, very much into the offer. “fuck, please.”

so, satoru moves closer until you’re touching, his naked cock against your clothed pussy. your bodies pressed together. and then satoru rubs his cockhead up and down your pussy, sliding between your thighs, moving his hips in circular motions, grinding into you like he’s determined to take you apart. throughout it all, he’s watching you with an intensity that has your whole body burning under his gaze.

“does this feel good?” his breath is warm on your neck. “tell me.”

“a-ah—” the next time he fucks against you, you gasp, squirming in your seat. it takes everything you have to not buck up into the delicious friction and shamelessly rut against satoru until you come. “y-yeah, yeah, don’t stop.”

time seems to stretch indefinitely, and satoru takes his sweet time making slow, sensual rolls of his hips, unraveling you little by little. meanwhile, you’re trembling in place, whining and whimpering, pussy aching for release. it’s driving you fucking crazy, mind swimming with pleasure. you know that you’re probably not going to last much longer like this, and it feels like he’s been teasing you for hours.

satoru is getting off on this too, just as vocal, each thrust growing more and more frantic. his cock leaks onto you. and when he starts talking again, whispering directly into your ear, you lose all semblance of control and feel the arousal building inside you, threatening to tip you over the edge.

“you know,” satoru starts, punctuating his words with a filthy grind that has you moaning, “you caught my eye when i was on stage. i saw you watching me, so turned on… practically fucking me with your eyes. did you think you were being subtle, pretty girl?” he chuckles at your embarrassment. “i could tell that you wanted me. that you were—hah—lusting after my body. and i knew i had to have you all to myself.”

“f-fuck,” you moan, head falling back. you replay the memories of satoru dancing on stage in your head, how he had commanded the whole room, drawing everyone’s attention to the way he worked his body. the body that’s currently on top of you, straddling you and bringing you right to the edge without mercy.

“mm, and i could tell that you tried to resist it at first. but i love breaking down girls like you. i love the challenge. and look at you now, baby.” satoru slides one hand up your shirt to latch onto your nipple again, and the other hand to circle your clit through your panties. the combined stimulation makes you cry out, driving you to the brink of madness. “so wrecked for me. you want it so fucking bad, don’t you?”

the moan that escapes you is loud and needy and you’re basically begging at this point. you sneak a glance down at where you two connect, the sight satoru’s cock on your pussy so fucking lewd, and you think you’re going to come at any second now. “ngh—satoru—s-satoru—you’re gonna make me—”

“yeah,” satoru breathes out, voice raspy. he picks up the pace, rocking into you much harder than before. “yeah, bet you want me to put my cock in that tight little pussy of yours, huh? f-feel me throbbing inside you while i fuck you—hah—fuck you so hard and deep—”

“oh, my god,” you curse, panting under him. you’re a shaking mess, and you can’t stop yourself anymore; your hips rise to join satoru’s, meeting his every thrust. you can feel it; you’re right there, right there. your orgasm is hovering just on the periphery. “a-ah, fuck—i’m—i’m gonna—”

satoru hums in acknowledgement. he shifts his position a little, lifting a leg up to get a better angle, and continues grinding on you, daring you to let go. at the same time, his hand circles your clit even faster, sending tingles all throughout your body. “just like that, baby. imagine how good it would feel to have me thrusting inside you.”

pleasure rushes through you so fast it makes you dizzy. your pussy is pulsing and throbbing, so fucking wet that your panties are completely soiled by now, beyond saving. and you can’t hold back anymore, you’re going to come; you’re going to come right here in front of satoru, shamelessly, and you want it, you want it so bad—

“fuck, fuck, i can’t—w-wait, stop, i’m really—o-oh, i’m close—”

“wanna see you come for me,” satoru encourages, grinding even more deliberately against you, bringing you closer and closer to your climax with each calculated roll of his hips. “you’ll let me come too, right? be a g-good girl now, and let me come all over your panties.”

“god, yes, give it to me,” you moan, so incredibly turned on by the idea of satoru spilling on your panties, right over your throbbing pussy. it’s so fucking hot. your body is moving on instinct, and all you can think about is chasing after your release. “hah—hah—s-satoru—” you pant, shaking and writhing. “i can’t—can’t hold—ngh—gonna—"

and satoru’s mouth is right by your ear again when he says, “that’s it, baby. show me what that pretty face of yours looks like when you come.”

holy shit—hearing that, you don’t think you could hold back any longer even if you wanted to. with a strangled cry, you throw your head back on the couch, hips bucking up wildly and back arching into satoru. your thighs are trembling when you come, pussy pulsing, pulsing, pulsing and making a sticky mess of yourself. it’s all overwhelming and your chest heaves, only vaguely aware that satoru is coming, too.

he fucks you through your orgasm and his cock throbs hard before he’s moaning your name, hips stuttering and shooting out his release is spurts. his come splatters all over you, just like he said, white and thick and filthy on your stomach and panties. landing right over your clit, over your pussy. you moan again, sounding broken, fucked out. it’s a waste—you’d rather have his come inside you—but the erotic sight of it makes up for that.

satoru’s cock is still twitching, even a few seconds after you’ve both caught your breaths. he hovers over you, that perfect body—strong thighs and hard abs and those striking blue eyes, the intense look he gives you that makes him irresistible. god, you weren’t supposed to be this easy to seduce.

slowly, you inhale and reorient yourself, feeling the aftermath of your orgasm subsiding. your mind is still a bit hazy. when you meet satoru’s gaze, all you can say is, “fuck.”

“that good?” satoru asks, always so damn smug and full of himself. he runs a hand through his hair, smirking. “don’t miss my cock too much when i'm gone. next time, i just might consider fucking your pussy for real and giving you a taste of true pleasure.”

his fingers find your panties again, your swollen pussy, and rubs the area. you gasp, hips jerking. so sensitive, especially after your orgasm. and satoru knows, of course he knows; he did it on purpose. he loves being able to get a reaction out of you, controlling your body with a single touch.

you try to glare at him, but it’s weak. it hardly means anything after he gave you one of the best orgasms of your life, making you come so hard without even putting his cock in you. without even touching your pussy directly. it’s the kind of orgasm that you’ll replay in your mind when you’re alone at night and feeling pent up and horny, picturing him in your mind as you get yourself off.

next time. well, you think. you definitely hadn’t been planning to come back to the strip club after today, but now you suppose that it can’t hurt to make another visit if satoru is going to be there.

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tadc-harlequin-au · 2 months ago

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God your designs are so fucking good bro, I'd love to know how the design process went

lmfao, I can give some insights

Caine's design was mostly an accident. In the scrapped initial intro animatic for this AU, he had a placeholder design until I could finalize him when I went to clean up the frames

which became this, then this, then...

He literally got designed as the animatic went on, the coat on shoulders was a subconscious approach because I blame One Piece for making me a coat-on-shoulders whore. His final coat design is mostly taken from my own oc lol

up to this point, I had no idea how he would've been colored until I did this shitpost

Pomni's is weird too

She was partially inspired by both the Circus breach crack idea, Pauline from my Unexpected Reunion AU, and Mystery!Pomni because I do love women (in suits)

so if Caine was designed overtime within an animatic, Pomni's design spanned fucking AUs-

Ragatha was literally just me thinking, "hm. what if. hear me out. maid. but tattered skirt cus puppet revolution time"

this is her VERY first appearance and it hasn't changed much since leave me alone let me enjoy women being gay

Now, Kingr is actually the closest ANY design in this AU would come to it's base inspiration Lies of P, because AUGH King of Puppets my beloved

He started as a boss design from the get go then reverse engineered to look more friendly, because by the time I was designing him, I was already incorporating the idea of Pomni having to fight bosses so she could free them from these insane forms of theirs

This idea was recycled from my other AU for fnaf btw, the Eternal Eclipse AU where Freddy has to free the other Glamrocks from their "Primal forms" by fighting them WITH THE POWER OF ROCK AND ROLLLLLLLLLL (which are GIGANTIC and INSANE, sound familiar yet?)

back to the rest, I actually didn't really know what I wanted for Jax, aside from a Cheshire Cat motif from Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland because love that mofo and Jax's constant smile reminds me of him

I guess that's why his initial design was so unnecessarily cluttered and so hard to draw, because all I knew was that I wanted it to be loose, flowy, bouncy and airy, like an actual cartoon. But, still respecting the laws of reality somewhat

and then I had to switch the outfit out, because at around this time, The Patriarch's design was finalized, and I didn't want people to start to think Jax was associated with him purely due to similar palettes. So I sneakily swapped it out with an explorer's outfit (since I was thinking of Jax as the team's scout), and tried to play it off as simply a "oh it was hard to draw"

He was even supposed to have goggles in the newer design, but I scrapped it because I'm repeating the same mistake of making him too cluttered again.

Z is a pretty straightforward one, although they diverged from the initial idea. My first thought was making them a brawler of sorts because they were initially going to be Pomni's training buddy, so I looked up "Victorian brawler" and yoinked the outfit I liked.

The concept of Z being the training dummy was then recycled to be Kingr's role instead because Kingr was more of a tank character than Z, and in turn, she became the weaponsmith

Each part of Z was also inspired by something that randomly came to mind when I was trying to wrack my brain with what parts should they have:

the hook peg is from Hiccup, the other peg is from A series of Unfortunate Events, the antler is a reference to Mystery!Zooble but combined with the Minecraft Warden's palette, spiked chokers were taken from my own sona's eel tongue. The flexible arms are very much Doc ock

Gangle... She was the hardest to design that my brain is blocking me from remembering the process because it was so traumatizing /j

I just know that like Caine, her design was also mostly an accident. Iirc, she wasn't meant to have cat ears/motif in the first place, but after I finished the mask with the <:3 face I went like "fuck it we ball" and went furry mode

I think she was also meant to have painted whiskers, and the only reason why she doesn't is I forgor 💀

There was no inspo for her outfit except maybe Disney Cinderella because I was only putting what worked and discarded what didn't (not recommended)

The double ribbon arms was literally just me thinking the ends are her little fingies, and her "feet" is just me wanting to make her ribbons look like a part of her dress and looking flowy because ew feet

anyways if you can't tell, there's a pattern here: recycle ideas, take inspo, look it up or fuck it we ball when all else fails lol

the lesson here is to not follow in my footsteps because I keep stepping on shit /lh

#thanks for the ask!#tadc #tadc au #harlequin au #tadc harlequin au #the amazing digital circus #pomni #caine #ragatha #jax #gangle #zooble #kinger #i'm so eepy #i've been typing for an hour now i think lol

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myeagleexpert · 1 month ago

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The Perfect Boyfriend (PT 3)

𝕾𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖈𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖎𝖙 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖑𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖌, 𝕴 𝖘𝖆𝖞 𝖜𝖆𝖑𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖏𝖚𝖘𝖙 𝖊𝖝𝖙𝖗𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖑𝖞 𝖈𝖑𝖔𝖘𝖊 𝖇𝖊𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖉 𝕴'𝖒 𝖘𝖚𝖗𝖊 𝖎𝖋 𝕴 𝖘𝖆𝖙 𝖉𝖔𝖜𝖓 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖆𝖘𝖐𝖊𝖉 𝖞𝖔𝖚, 𝖜𝖊𝖑𝖑, 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖞 𝖜𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉𝖓'𝖙 𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖉 𝖄𝖔𝖚'𝖛𝖊 𝖌𝖔𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖊 𝖊𝖞𝖊𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖉𝖗𝖎𝖛𝖊 𝖒𝖊 𝖈𝖗𝖆𝖟𝖞 𝕬𝖓𝖉 𝕴'𝖛𝖊 𝖌𝖔𝖙 𝖊𝖞𝖊𝖘 𝖙𝖔 𝖜𝖆𝖙𝖈𝖍 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖘𝖑𝖊𝖊𝖕

Doppleganger/Skinwalker!Yandere x YN (AFAB)Summary: Your relationship with Kain has never been one of the best, but recently it's like you've been thrown off an abyss over and over again. Oh, and there's a dog too, but he's not important. Anyway… with a storm of emotions in your mind, you end up leaving a gap that a certain creature will take advantage of. Warnings: (Toxic relationships, obsessed relationships, mental manipulation, the smell of rot, description of death, description of fear and panic, a little sentimental smut, The thing loves you - too much.) Uncertain motives. Lots of couple fights and domestic violence, but YN defends herself and fights harder, this story takes place before chapter 1, you will now see what the original Kain was like.The term 'YN' and 'you' is used several times in the fanfic for better grammatical use, my first time writing something like this, so please be gentle. <3

𝕭𝖊𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖊 < < 𝕮𝖆𝖙𝖈𝖍, 𝕶𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖊𝖆𝖙 > >

You think you saw something under the window.

It's something - you're sure.

But it's not important enough for you to give it your full attention. Not when you're fighting with Kain right now, it's probably about some nonsense, the two of you have been fighting for so long that you don't even remember what you're fighting about and Kain is getting more and more aggressive.

"I can't believe we're fighting about this, Kain! Your mother must have thrown the baby away and created the placenta instead, because there's no way you only understand what suits you!" you say louder, running your hands over your face in an irritated way.

Today was supposed to be the perfect date. It was your and Kain's anniversary and after missing the date 4 times, he finally agreed to go today. Of course, you got ready in a happy and relieved way, who knows if it was a sign of his change? You did a great job with your makeup, your hair looked like a celebrity blowout but the most beautiful thing is your beautiful black dress. This one accentuates each of your curves in an attractive and elegant way, with shiny details in some part and The high heels, a black sitelleto perfectly match the occasion, the black and transparent tights give a stylish air to the look. A wine-colored velvet bow is in your hair, giving an air of significant femininity.

And given the special occasion, you are finally wearing a beautiful set of accessories that you ordered online! You waited so long to receive it and today you will wear it for the first time! The necklace is a beautiful ruby choker with encrusted diamonds, combined exclusively with the button earrings of the same style.

Now, you can't leave the house without your black bag, huh? You chose this model yourself, padded and medium-sized, perfect for work and to use when going out. The black bag is a universal symbol of female independence, and of distrust of men. After all, a good partner should pay the bill and leave the girl at ease, right? That's what people are saying on the internet and Kain is your partner but… he's a delicate case.

You think twice before putting your wallet with cards and money in it, Kain paid the last few times but what if….... no. Don't think about it. He'll change. He promised.

Before leaving you listen to the voice in your head and put your wallet, lip gloss and documents in it.

Just in case.

And oh boy, thank God you listened.

*knock knock*

You hear him knock on your door, and as you walk down the halls, you check yourself in the mirror from head to toe and smile dreamily, happily, lightly, mentally praising yourself.

You look really beautiful today, YN

He appears at your door, smoking a cigarette while talking on his cell phone. He didn't give you a kiss. Just a look to confirm that you were in front of him and he threw the helmet in your hands, unceremoniously returning to the motorcycle.

The bike was beautiful, but dirty and Kain already smelled of cigarettes, his old jacket was stained with alcohol he had been drinking, you surreptitiously held your breath so as not to breathe in that terrible odor. Carefully, you slowly climbed on it so as not to get your dress dirty and abruptly, he started driving to what was supposed to be the romantic dinner he had promised at her favorite restaurant. Imagine the disappointment when a route was changed to a darker part of the city, but it was a small diner, a hot dog cart with a few tables around it. A slight embarrassment of being overdressed rose on your face, but you disguised it with a crooked smile as you cleaned the chair dirty with ketchup from the last person who had used the table.

“Heya, YN, you look pretty good.” he complimented you, sitting in the chair opposite yours.

“Thanks, I–”

“You don’t mind if I call a few more friends, do you? They’re nearby and I invited them to come eat with us.”

He interrupts you and confirms the call before you can say anything.

YN doesn't want to be immature, petty, or a boring little princess who doesn't want to have fun like he already said, so you just nod and mentally prepare yourself for the vision that arrives.

In less than 10 minutes, at least 6 more boys arrive… drugged… drunk… dirty with dirt and stained with oil. The group of brutes TAKES MORE CHAIRS AND TABLES around so they can all be together, the smell of sour and loud voices, words tangled with each other and insults are exchanged as a form of greeting.

Even the cook at the stall looks at this group of troublemakers with disdain, and when he realizes that you are there in the middle, he turns his head, confused, as if asking what you are doing there. And to be honest, at that moment you don't know either. The waiter quickly brings the menu to your table, which is already starting to attract the attention of other people.

"Good evening, what would you like?" the waiter says in a harsh tone, this group had caused problems before.

"Francis, old man, I'm surprised you're still here!" Kain exclaims with disdain. Last week, they unfairly involved the waiter in one of their scams, causing him to almost be fired.

"Thanks to my boss, I am, if it were up to you I would be out on the street like you good-for-nothings." he huffs irritably, grabbing his notebook

The group just laughs, as if nothing mattered, and orders drinks and hot dogs. Kain doesn't remember you, it's the waiter who stops by your side and asks in a softer voice.

"Would you like to order something now?"

"A juice with the number 2, please." You asked for the quickest thing to get out of there as quickly as possible, preferably something already prepared that they only had to heat up and you could leave.

"Of course, yours will be ready in a minute." The waiter quickly takes your order and leaves before the disgusting horde can get him in trouble again.

"Omg, YN, what a surprise you're here!" one of them exclaims, isn't that the one who hit his own mother?

"She wanted to go out today so I thought I could bring her with us." Kain doesn't let you answer, distorting the truth while laughing disgustingly with his friend next to him, the one who got out of prison last week.

Ouch.

You feel so small and dirty now, like a stunned cockroach on the floor, like a puppy that its owner conveniently takes for a walk. You don't know how, but somehow, some girls approach your table, flirting with the boys and with Kain himself. You ignore the feeling of neglect, disgust, and revolt and smile tightly, a thin line made entirely to disguise the tremendous discomfort you feel.

Sweet you, struggling to stay calm and hide your true feelings, try desperately to control your body and facial expression. Your hands remain static, despite being elegantly in your lap, and your breathing is controlled so as not to appear agitated, occasionally distracting yourself on your cell phone while you wait.

As you observe the scene in front of you, your face remains impassive, without any trace of apparent emotion. Inside, however, the storm of feelings continues to stir uncontrollably.

You want so much to leave there and cry, how could you have been so naive to believe that he would change? That today would be a special day? As if the universe was reaching out to you, the waiter soon delivered your orders, gently placing his hand on your shoulder and speaking softly in your ear.

“If you need anything else, we are at your disposal, miss”, the staff was empathetic to your situation, your discomfort visible from miles away, you were there like a pearl among swine, a little princess in a horde of stinking goblins.

Kain interpreted it as if the waiter was flirting with you, in front of him, in front of his friends and the fight went on and on, he made advances on the waiter, the boys stole some things, security was called… and finally… being the only one with documents when security arrived, you paid the bill for the boys’ losses and were forced to pay the bill for the snack as well, you angrily took your wallet out of your black bag. At that moment, you dropped your politeness and your princess pose and fought with Kain in front of everyone, calling a nearby motorcycle taxi to take you home.

You don't want to see Kain's face now.

You might break up today.

That's it.

You're fed up.

You furiously take the bow out of your hair and throw it somewhere in the house as soon as you get home, your expensive high heels being thrown to some corner of the couch while you control your breathing, tears of frustration threatening to roll down your face but for all the self-respect you have left, you won't cry for him today. Your boyfriend, Kain, arrives a few minutes later, banging on the door incessantly as if he wanted to break it down.

And on the one hand, you were already pissed at him, but on the other… if he came all the way here… it means he cares, right? You open the door with expectation, only for them to be destroyed once again.

"Are you stupid or what?" he shouts, entering the house with all his steps stomping loudly in his muddy sneakers as if he were the owner of the house, and takes a big swig from his cheap beer can.

"What…?" You feel confused, is this son of a bitch blaming you?

“I know.”

He throws the beer can on the floor when it's finished and marches towards you with arguments and points, blaming you for hitting on the waiter, for embarrassing him in front of his friends, for calling the security guard and for a million other facts that he created in his head.

It's never Kain's fault. It's the waiter's fault, the friend's fault, the police officer's fault, YOUR fault, but never his.

It seems like a joke.

A cruel joke in a circus that you didn't pay to enter.

But you paid, YN, you entered the circus and kissed the clown, now who's being made fun of?

"Kain, that's not how it happened." You confront him firmly on your position.

"Oh no? And that other time when you—”

And whenever he’s losing an argument, he brings up memories from the past to justify the nonsense of the present, like how he loves you so much that he picked you up from the hospital, how your father cheated on your mother, how his father is working a lot, that he helped you move….. it has nothing to do with today’s event, with today’s argument, but he wants to win this argument no matter what.

The argument doesn’t make sense, but it escalates quickly, it’s like airing dirty laundry, and you decide that if you’re going to throw shit in the fan, you’re going to throw it. Tonight’s already terrible, let’s end it on a high note.

The best cure for a crazy person is someone crazier than him. My mother used to say that…. let’s see for real?

Fuck this thing.

“Kain, do you practice at home to talk so much shit, or is everything that comes out of your mouth improvised?” you gesture sarcastically, the words cutting more than a knife, like an acid that bubbles with the amount of anger inside you.

Snowball, the female cat you adopted a few weeks ago silently approaches the room where you are, crawling elegantly and meowing in retaliation to your boyfriend. The more upset your boyfriend gets, the more annoyed Snowball seems.

The cat, despite being a cute kitten, didn't win Kain's favor. He complains about the white fur getting on his clothes, about all the unnecessary expenses you're spending on a stinky kitten, and mainly, how now that this cat has arrived, you only have attention for her. Which is obviously a lie, he just wants something to fight about and blame you for. The kitten is affectionate with you, always being close and purring in your hands, maybe that's why she's a little… protective of you? Sweet YN, so kind to her. Snowball is at the door now, her tail slowly wagging from side to side in a clear sign of agitation, her meows becoming louder as if she wanted to defend you.

The couple's shouting, with the TV playing loudly in the background, and the incessant meowing of a cat is chaos, an irritation that grows more and more. At some point, Kain gets really angry and approaches YN aggressively, stomping his feet hard and raising his hands. It is exactly at this moment that Snowball uses her incredible feline speed and scratches his feet, the kitten's soft white fur standing up while her pupils turn into two little holes.

There is something under your window, and the thing wipes its bloody mouth and does its best to stay still, observing the situation.

And most importantly… the thing sees you.

"See? Even a cat understands that you're overstepping your bounds! Enough, Kain, there's no way you're that upset!" You huff loudly as you walk away from the man, you don't know what's worse, the yelling or the teasing of the kitten.

Kain turns around, now focusing his attention on Bola de Neve. He scoffs at the kitten and scowls at you.

"Oh, shut that thing up. If you can't keep it quiet, you shouldn't have gotten it. You know cats annoy the hell outta me."

Oh, this is the final straw for you. Not only did he ruin a perfect date, but now he wants to rule your house as if it were his? Oh no. All the women inside you roar in unison, ordering in your heart that you should not stay silent and lower your head.

"Oh? Excuse me? This is MY HOUSE! If you're bothered, go to YOUR HOUSE! Because in mine, MY kitten can even sing if she wants to," you proclaim louder than him, disgusted with the situation while gesturing to the house.

Kain turns to you, his face red and his expression darkening even more.

"I'm your boyfriend, I have every right to be here!" he snaps back, getting even closer to you. Snowball doesn't like this at all, approaching you and climbing onto the nearest couch, meowing and hissing again louder than before.

You swallow your fear and apprehension and head towards the door, crossing the room while maintaining eye contact with the man. "You have the fucking right to be here, the door is open for you to go vomit and talk your nonsense outside. In my house, I'm the boss, big head."

Kain turns to yell at the cat again, annoyed and frustrated, he imitates the meow more loudly and in a childish way. He's clearly losing his temper.

"Will you shut that thing up! It's making my damn head hurt, I'll throw it outside myself if I have to! What an annoying noise! I'm leaving if you keep this up!"

Oh, does the asshole want a formal invitation?

"Oh, do you want me to do the honors?" In a sarcastic tone you answered him, taking Snowball in your arms and protecting her as if she were your own kitten, placing her in her cat tower, a safe haven for now. There's a high chance that Kain will get really angry and go after the cat, but even so you hold the cat tighter against your chest and stomp on the floor.

Big man, head of a childish boy.

Enough of bowing my head to him hoping that everything will be better the next day.

Kain glares at you, furious and frustrated. He's not expecting you to actually kick him out, especially considering his current state, the idiot was already drinking before your date, the smell of cheap alcohol on him is unbearable.

"Are you serious right now?! You'd really kick me out over a cat?!" he yells, standing up and walking towards you, getting in your face.

"You're the one who's bothered by the cat, and you know the saying: those who are bothered should leave!" You cross your arms and continue even more determined "Either you leave and save the rest of your dignity or you spend the night here in silence."

Kain looks like a mad man with rage now, are you choosing the cat and not him? Do you dare to turn against him? Your boyfriend?

He approaches you again with strong and threatening steps, crossing the room again until he's close to you, next to a beautiful decorated bookcase. As a reflex of revolt, you tie your hair in a bun and approach him with the same intensity. A sign that the fight is far from over.

“You’re being too-!”

“Listen here, you-!” you gesture with your hands as you speak

The creature thinks that you look terribly big now, taking up more and more space as if, like any animal, you were showing your dominance in the territory. With increasingly larger and more offensive gestures, your voice increasingly loud and cold, arguments mixing with emotions, the situation is escalating very quickly. And the most interesting thing….

There is not a single drop of fear in you.

Creatures of his kind can feed on people’s fear and anguish too, but he doesn’t smell that in you… he smells that in your scoundrel boyfriend, who tries to disguise his weak points when he raises a threatening hand at you, shouting in a deep voice that imposes dominance.

“Shut your mouth!”

You glare at him defiantly and grab the first thing closest to you: a sharp sculpture, a decorative gift from your mother that you've never found useful, well, until now.

"Shut you up!" You hold the sculpture at the same height as his raised hand, raising your voice so it echoes through the house.

He looks at you, his face red with anger and his breathing fast. Kain never thought you'd threaten him back, defend yourself, but knowing you, he knows that the likelihood of you attacking him is as high as him attacking you now. Given this, and his weak state, Kain curses in a low tone and slowly lowers his hands.

You take a deep breath and pray that your own voice doesn't shake and slowly lower the sharp sculpture, but holding it tightly in your hands in case he changes his mind.

"Respect me. And if you really have feelings for me, you'll get out of my house right now and leave me alone!" You growl in an authoritative tone, leaving no room for suggestion as you slowly walk towards him, circling him like a predator while pointing the sculpture directly at him.

Your eyes are like flames of fire, with hatred and anger escaping from them as you focus exclusively on the man in front of you.

Today was perhaps the moment of greatest mental clarity of your life, and Kain hates every minute of his girlfriend's insubordination, as if he had seen the size of the iceberg for the first time, and not the small cubes or ice shavings that subtly melted with the heat of kisses or weak threats.

This little thing thinks she can threaten me? Shout back?

"YN, you're overreacting!! You're going to regret this!" The cornered man slowly makes his way to the door, frustrated and with a bruised ego. Kain keeps his eyes wide as he watches your domineering figure, but out of pride he still wants to have the last word to tell his friends.

"Enough!" You hold up a hand signaling him to shut up, and he does so immediately. "Don't make me repeat myself. Get out. Now!" You open the door abruptly, knocking over a portrait that was behind it as you breathe heavily through your nostrils, like a bull preparing for combat.

Kain glares at you, his anger fading slightly as he realizes he's not gonna win this one. He knows you're being serious, and doesn't have a choice. He sighs loudly and turns around to grab his stuff.

"Fine then! I'm leaving! But don't come begging for me to come back when you decide to ditch the damn cat…" He grabs his things and still grumbling curses. He gets to the front door and looks back at you one last time. He's still grumpy and annoyed, but defeated.

"I'll call you when I get home."

“Sure.” You say with a forced smile, the words coming out between clenched teeth.

The thing remembers that most species show their teeth as a sign of aggression, and it wonders if one more step in the wrong direction and you would open your jaw and furiously bite your boyfriend’s throat until it bled?

No.

When Kaim approaches, you allow him to kiss you on the mouth, albeit angrily, and say goodbye. He gets on the motorcycle and then exits the house, without looking back while you stand at the door, waiting for him to leave. Acting silently as a sentinel of your own house, your straight posture and raised chin indicate that you remain firm in your position. The sound of a motorcycle starts up and then fades away in the distance. It's finally quiet again.

The creature thinks humans are complicated.

If a miserable dog dared to even attack its owner, the owner would hand it over to a kennel or the streets, returning the hatred a thousand times over.

But if a human attacks another….

A human will be a thousand times more merciful with their own kind, they will apologize and make amends for the aggression, they will blame the drink, the drugs, the stressful day but they will never blame the other, they will never admit their own mistake.

Through a hidden bush the creature sees you enter the house and close the door and before you can walk with strong steps to the other side of the house… Snowball, the kitten, meows sweetly at you. It is as if the big and strong independent woman melts at the sight of a worried kitten, disarming herself of the armor she used in the argument earlier. You pick her up in your arms and take her to the sofa in the living room, where you put on a romantic movie to watch, something that internally you wished to live, something to distract from this moment.

Snowball purrs against your chest, raising her head subtly to lick the tears that roll down YN's face, staining the makeup she had done so excellently in doing. Stubborn, frustrated, angry, tears roll down her face insistently while YN holds herself back from crying, but poor thing, her lip trembles slightly as the kitten does what she can to bring some comfort to her owner.

*crash*

At that moment a loud noise is heard, the dramatic scene is interrupted by the trash can falling and YN remembers that she had actually heard something. YN quickly gets up and goes to check what it could be. Some raccoons were rummaging through the house's trash can looking for food, accidentally causing the can to fall on the creature's tail, scaring and hurting it, quickly pulling its tail off and attacking its attackers.

What YN sees, however, is a large black dog going after the raccoons that were rummaging through her trash can. Maybe out of hunger, maybe for something else, but before YN can grab a broom and chase the raccoons away, the large dog does so, and then their eyes meet.

YN looks at the dog, he is a great mass of black fur with long legs and sharp teeth. He is bigger than any dog she has ever seen, his bark is too loud, his fur makes it easy for him to stay in the shadows but his eyes…..two crimson balls reflecting the light from the window in a bright red. The poor thing immediately shut up when he noticed YIN's presence, and sweet YN, thought he was fighting over food with the raccoons.

YN saw him.

Even after such a stormy night, she gently closes the window as if nothing had happened and goes to the kitchen, calling Snowball to come with her.

For a dog that size, he must eat a lot……

YN grabs some leftovers from her lunch, along with some dog food that she had saved for when she would go for a walk in the park and feed some stray dogs, she grabs some eggs, and a few other things that might please the canine palate and puts them in a bowl, filling a small bowl with water to give to the unknown beast as well.

The girl turns on the light in front of the house, and holds her breath in case the dog gets aggressive, keeping the door closed and Snowball inside the house.

“Hey, I can see you,” she says in a sweet tone to call the big dog from hiding in the bushes. She wasn't supposed to see him.Why can she see him?

“Come here boy, I have something for you.” She makes a sound to call the canine, placing the portions of food and water near the window and the bush.

“Come here boy,” she calls again.

The dogs she feeds at the park usually wag their tails when they see YN approaching, let her run her hand through their fur and come quickly when they are called.

But not this one.

The creature wasn't expecting this tonight, having quickly put on his dog skin before leaving, but it's undeniable: He's hungry. And you're offering him a feast. It would be stupid to refuse. So, slowly, he starts to emerge from the bush, his head and snout coming out first and his body reluctantly following. He's incredibly suspicious of YN, not taking his eyes off the human for a minute, which makes her back away too, in her head, giving the creature space to feel comfortable.

“Very well, now I’m going, okay?” Before she can turn around, the dog changes course and begins to walk slowly towards YN, ears and tail pricked, his gaze fixed on the human.

In the blink of an eye he's in front of her, in an alert position. YN has been in this situation before, so like any other dog, she gently extends her hand so he can sniff and get to know her.

"Oh...hello boy."

The skinwalker sniffs YN's hand, her scent enveloping his senses and immediately making him relax, it was a unique scent, he had never felt this sensation before and hesitantly he licks the back of YN's hand…

Mmm… delicious.

YN takes it as a sign that he is friendly and runs her hand over his head, petting him and showing him where the food is.

"Very good buddy, there's your food, see. See you later."

The creature's fur is dry and hard, like that of a stuffed animal and YN doesn't look into the animal's eyes, not wanting to cause more problems for the stranger. Oh, if she had looked into its eyes she would know that what she had touched was not just any animal, she should never have fed it, she should never have given it a break.

After all,

If you feed a dog, it will come back.

And it wasn't just any dog.

The following days are marked by a strange sensation in YN, a feeling of alertness and unease. Every time she leaves the house for work, she feels a strong sense that something is wrong, and there really is something very wrong around her. A shadow. The shadow lingers, faint and cold, a veil across the surface, untold. Whispers soft, a chilling breeze, Upon the wall, an enigma it weaves.

At dawn, the girl finds peace, a calm knowing that the great Sun would bring her a slight feeling of security and warmth and finally, the feeling of seeing things the way they are. The danger is returning alone at night, YN. What lies beneath, concealed by the veil, A wind that blows but will never fail. A heartbeat, a gentle sigh, A secret that will never die.

She quickens her pace, taking longer and faster steps as she looks anxiously around corners, praying hard that the Sun will be merciful enough to allow her to get home in time to lock all the doors and windows and finally relax, ignoring the persistent shadows she sees in the corner of her eye and the sound of howls in the middle of the night. But unfortunately, today is one of the days when the Sun has been generous with the Moon, allowing it to shine earlier than it did for all of humanity, but the poor human is very anxious, hearing things and seeing things that according to her are just products of her imagination. It's well known, the shadow does reside, but only revealed when looking inside. A ghost that hides and persists. A mystery that the soul can't resist.

After days of feeling followed and watched, YN finally accepts the ride her boss offers her, making her arrive home early and and decided to extend a helping hand to the young woman in the city that YN didn't know. The experienced woman had noticed that YN was in a constant state of anxiety to return home and that something was not right.

Home is everyone's safe place, why wouldn't YN want to go back?

“Hey Snowball, did you miss me?” YN pets the cat as soon as she arrives home, the kitten purring as she leans in with her affections.

“Did you catch any mice today?” The girl does not expect answers from a cat, and quickly checks the house for any body or evidence.

It can't be just ONE mouse.

A few days ago, YN saw some mice in the house. There had never been any mice there before, but the girl assumes that things like this happen in the new house. The mice are fast, too fast for YN to hit them with the broom and too fast for Snowball to catch them. They are like shadows, being recognized only by the rotten smell and the noise they make when they move from one place to another, a heavy noise for something so small. But strangely, they never go after food. YN checks the food, the bathroom, the fridge, the yard every day… but there is no proof that they have been there.

But it is better to have rats than Kain, isn't it? It was Kain's habit to disappear for a while and then appear as if nothing had happened, never remorseful, never guilty. He wasn't always this infinite well of idiocy, he was kind and loving in the beginning but as the relationship progressed things went downhill. Like a tick that starts innocently grabbing an animal's fur, and it doesn't hurt at first, but as time goes by the tick digs its claws and teeth into the host's skin, sucking the soul and blood, weakening the host and leaving the host at its mercy.

As much as the tick hurts, it will be even more painful to remove, like a stubborn person who would rather keep the knife embedded in the wound than remove it and risk losing blood. The boy didn't say much these days, just a few lame excuses while YN cut the conversation short and ignored him. It's better this way. She is still writing the script for how she will end the relationship. Even though he is a stupid asshole, what guarantees that he won't come and demand satisfaction later? That he will send one of his idiot friends to take care of you?

Hmm… better memorize the police number here… get the neighbor's number… better be prepared in case something happens…

“…hey.”

A voice calls her from the other side of the house, in the backyard.

But YN is so lost in her thoughts that she doesn't recognize the tone of the voice, lost in the loud music from her headphones. But she still goes to the backyard to open the door, not realizing that Snowball's fur is bristling and scared, but when she opens the door she finds only…

“Oh, hey boy. Its you!” You find the black dog from a few days ago sitting elegantly on the grass, attentively awaiting your presence.

“You're early today, huh?” The sun is still setting today, illuminating some children in orange tones while they are still playing outside.

Maybe one of them called out to a friend and you heard, thinking you were being called.

“I’ll get your food and I’ll be right back, okay?”

The big dark ball has been fed every now and then in the last few days, always after the young woman gets home from work. The dog seemed to guess and emerge from the shadows when he noticed YN’s presence in the house. YN and her huge heart already set aside something for him, buying more food and treats for him at the market. She has enough to feed him and bring him water, but not enough to open the door and adopt him. It’s as if Yn had wisely created a wall between the two of them, establishing a limit that she felt was necessary.

In the kitchen, the music is still playing loudly in her ears, a lively rhythm to chase away bad thoughts while the young woman prepares an old bowl for the dog’s dinner and another for his water. She quickly pauses the wireless headphones, poking her finger a few more times when the sound doesn't pause.

At these times, YN likes to be on alert to attend to the dogs, even when feeding other stray dogs, there's something particular about this one that makes her feel… agitated, as if she were playing with the flames of a candle and seeing how far it really gets burned. Or in this case, bitten.

“Hey buddy, here's dinner.” Yn announces the entrance while the dog is sitting exactly in the same place, with a confused look but accustomed to this routine of the last few days the girl puts the bowls under the window in a clean area.

“Come. You can eat now.” and so he does, walking over to the place and eating from the bowl, his big tail wagging slightly as he savors each bite, his tense muscles relaxing as the feast is served.

He must have been domesticated and when he got too big they pushed him out onto the street, because how is he so… obedient?

This is usually where the story ends.

She feeds him and goes back home.

But this time, the creature notices when YN is about to walk away and growls slightly, making her become confused and stop.

What? What did I do?

The black dog approaches and imitates the behavior he has seen other dogs doing, wagging his tail while staring at YN with pleading eyes and lowered ears, relaxing some muscles in his face so that he appears more friendly.

“Oh, you want some affection, is that it?” YN hesitantly brings her hand gently to the dog’s head, preparing to immediately pull it away in case the canine decides to bite at the last minute.

But the bite never comes.

He would never in his right mind hurt you.

He closes his eyes as he welcomes the touch, his hand noticing how much softer and longer his black fur is now, his tail wagging much faster now showing how good he is feeling, sweeping some autumn leaves away as YN pets him more willingly and freely, more comfortable with the idea that he won't bite her hand.

"So you're not aggressive, huh? Do you like it?" she continues to caress the creature tenderly, two hands to stroke his fur all over as he lets out small grunts of joy.

He feels more playful now, his tail wagging as he sinks deeper and deeper into the girl's touch, closing his eyes contentedly. But when he opens his eyes to observe her more closely, to delight in her beautiful and majestic face, to take the chance to study a face so beautiful that it would make the most miserable of men a king, and the richest of men a mere pauper in search of attention, imagine his surprise when he sees that the girl was also studying him. YN takes the chance to see the vulnerable canine and looks for wounds and scars, or indicators of what kind of dog it is, some collar or ship that identifies it, but is surprised by what she finds: beautiful blue eyes.

What beautiful blue eyes, did they turn red because of the light at night? This happens with the reflection sometimes, I saw photos about it.

But Yn avoids looking directly into his eyes for too long, she feels something strange… they look with such precision and intelligence that YN has never seen a dog have, eyes almost human, almost emotional, almost… something. Almost as if she asked him something, he would answer.

But that's not important now, not when he precisely closes his eyes again as he moves closer to her body, wanting more of the warmth and affection that only the girl can give him.

It's a beautiful and tender moment, which makes YN forget the enigmatic problems that are on the other side of the door. But she is remembered when the sun sets completely, leaving her alone in the darkness. Little by little, in affectionate but anxious acts, she moves away from the dog.

"I have to go now, go eat, boy. Good night." In a sweet voice, she reluctantly says goodbye to her canine friend, it was good that he showed this more affectionate side of him.

"Boy" because he is not something dear to her yet.

"Boy" because to YN he was just a street dog.

"Boy" because he is not allowed to enter the house.

Understanding that she wanted to enter the house, he slowly moves away, allowing the girl freedom to walk to the door while he remains standing in the same place. The darkness of the night quickly becomes present and more terrifying because when she left the sun was shining outside, but now in the house and in the yard, there are no lights on. As she is about to reach for the doorknob, she hears something that makes her freeze.

“…thank you.”

It was a voice so impossibly clear and deep that it could not have been from her headphones, since they were turned off. It was a voice that spoke inside her head, making each letter reverberate with intensity in every nerve and muscle. A spectral and disturbing voice. Her heart immediately froze and a deep fear took hold of her, words of gratitude that were supposed to make her feel good, now it was as if something primordial had awakened. From the corner of her eye, she slowly notices that the dog is in the same place, looking at her with his head tilted, almost cute, if it weren't for his eyes shining with a light that shouldn't be there.

YN comes out of her trance dizzily and quickly and enters the house, closing and locking the door safely while turning on the doors of the house, all of them while recovering the strength in her legs and breathing unevenly.

Perhaps, if she had looked back one more time, she would have seen the creature moving away and merging with the shadows of the yard in a surreal way, like a shadow merging with the darkness of the night.

Oh, what a terrifying soul to have around….

Oh, what a tormented and dangerous creature….

No one taught him to be this creature, he has never seen another of his kind either, but perhaps he has not always been this way. He does not remember exactly what he was, what he once was in existence. He does have a conscience, portraits of memories and abstract concepts, but for the most part he is "an almost animal thing".

He was once human, an original form that he has not used for decades and perhaps he has even forgotten what he once was, after so many masks and disguises it is difficult to know what is true, merging with more animalistic perceptions over time.

Repeating a primitive cycle, eating, sleeping and hunting when he is hungry, exchanging the rotting skin for another.

But for the first time, he did not want to be a "thing", he wanted to be "someone".

Because he is "someone" who can be by her side.

He envied humans in a way, for being able to gather around a campfire and have a normal life. Every animal returns to its den at dusk, or leaves it to hunt, but this creature has no place to call a "den" or "home" as humans call it. He hides in caves or any available corner to spend the night, avoiding sunlight so that people do not see the flaws in his disguise.

For the first time in the creature's entire life, he felt that the path from his "den" led to you.

You are his home.

And if he could be a dog at your feet, this would be it. You yourself could choose a collar and chain especially for him.

Chain him up.

Put a collar with his name on it, identify him as something of yours.

Put your name and number on the collar, so that everyone knows he belongs to you.

It's already decided. It's you he wants. No one else.

Now he understands the story of Kain and Abel, he too would kill to receive such a divine blessing.

As he crawls through the darkness he thinks of strategic plans to get into your house. Maybe he has to get rid of that white cat, he wouldn't share your precious attention with him. Maybe he has to create more rats and kill them in front of you, performing a play in which he comes out as the hero and you are so grateful that you let him into the house. Or maybe…

Maybe he has to get rid of your disgusting scoundrel of a boyfriend, steal his skin and throw him into the darkness. Because who else would YN forgive for acting strange? The creature doesn't know how to be a functional human… he can still make some mistakes while living with you, learn from other humans and from movies, who knows?

A creature of his kind needs to kill to steal a skin, eat to take the place of another. A macabre laugh echoes from the dog's mouth, malicious satisfaction as he makes the plan in his head, steps idealized in his evil mind.

In a single night, he will visit the scoundrel Kain and a powerful shaman, the night is young and his plans are ambitious, a lot to plan and plan. Oh, how good it is to have the malicious mind of humans, capable of planning things as simple as a hunt or something as grand as a coup.

Now tell me, sweet YN, did you lock your bedroom door?

Are you sure?

So what is that behind you?

Tags: @buniwtch @spookynotkid @aminekun009 @twinklingbeautifulstars @heizouislife @cheesecakeyuri @hewhehe @sumeyyeecrin

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ Every like, repost and comment is very welcome and appreciated. ♥

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simonriley09 · 5 days ago

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PLEASEEE HEAR ME OUT.

how about.. inexperienced ghost whos SO sensitive x VERY experienced reader who knows how to really make him feel good..PLEASEEE

SCREAMING. YOU GUYS HAVE THE BEST IDEASSS Ghost and you have been slightly good friends since you both joined the army, it was clear you weren't a virgin. You were confident, stood proud and was... very pretty... Ghost on the other hand was also pretty confident, silent but rugged. One night over a beer he drunkenly admitted he's a virgin and now you won't stop teasing him about it. It got so bad you started pinching anywhere sensitive you could, his nipples, inner thighs, ass, abs literally everywhere! and it would get him hard... thank god he wore 2 pairs of boxers that day. You guys went out for another beer the next evening.. so now here we are, Ghost is sitting under you, his pants and boxers removed showing his embarrassingly hard erection leaking pre-cum. You're in the midst of shimmying out of your panties when he lets out a small whimper, making you look at him with a grin. "If you whimper like a puppy i'll treat you like one." You told him, which made his cock twitch. "Oh?, you like that idea?... Puppy?" He just nodded, staring at the curve of your hips.

You looked at your discarded pants on the floor and saw the belt on the floor and took it, walking over to him and straddling his hips. He grabbed the fat of your hips and looked up at you, his cock nudging and twitching against your dripping slit. You tied the belt into handcuffs and a choker (idk what it's called) and secured it tight. You pushed him back roughly making him whimper again, his cock getting cold from the rush of air. "You wanna fuck me Puppy?" He nodded. "Mhm!"

"Show me how much you want it." You said, tugging on the handcuffs. Ghost bucked his hips up once and his cock slipped in, it was... so big. You could practically feel him in your throat and that was just the tip, Ghost's toes were already curling in pleasure. He let out a small moan and you slowly sank down more, his girth and length stretching you further than anyone did. After a few minutes you started getting rhythm, turning Ghost into a whimpering mess under you. It only lasted about 30 seconds until he came, which embarrassed him but you didn't care, you kept riding him, overstimulating the poor guy. He did seem to enjoy being called puppy though...

You kept riding him, he hit all the right places without even trying. He might just become your new fuck buddy. You thought to yourself. Just as you were thinking he came again, the second time he came inside you. He shuddered, hips stuttering and toes curling as he moaned. Yup. Fuck buddy indeed.

#simon ghost riley #cod #cod x reader #cod smut #call of duty #simon riley ghost #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley #simon ghost #simon thoughts #ghost simon riley #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #ghost call of duty #ghost riley

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mikisspeak · 1 year ago

Text

Turn ons’ on OP men

Male! Reader

Corazon, Shanks, Zoro, Sanji.

MINORS DON’T INTERACT

•The content below is explicit and it may blur the romantic concept of a minor’s mind. Please have discretion and do not read it if you’re under 18, i am not responsible of whatever problem you may present by reading this at a young age.•

Corazon/Rosinante Donquixote

•Seeing you walk around with his feathers coat.

Nothing looks more sexier for him than you on his clothes, the black feathers making your pretty eyes shine but more important how adorable you look. May be associated to his size kink but walking around in a clothe so much bigger than you just gives him more desire to pull you to his room and fuck you with feathers an’ all.

“Fuck..! Keep it like that, tightening around me so well…”

“Cora-san..!” You whimpered under him, whining and sandwiching most of your moans, you weren’t exactly allowed to be in bed with him.

“I think this coat fits better on you..Make sure to use it more often.” He kissed your forehead with a smirk and kept pounding into you.

Akagami no Shanks

•Jewelry.

Nothing looks hotter for him than jewelry of any type: Long necklaces, golden or silver chains around your neck, chokers, earrings..There’s something of the cold shiny material that gets him going all night. It’s just time till he drags you to the nearest private place on the Red Force to fuck you right, your pretty necklace hanging from your not-covered chest as the cold metal of your rings wrap around his length.

“Keep sucking me like that—oh god..” He whimpered the quietest he could as your jeweled hand pumped the base of his cock and your lips sucked his tip and the half of his length.

“Good boy..Sucking me so good with those pretty lips..~” he smirked and gave you a chuckled as his hand came to play and spin the rings on your fingers that were still wrapped around his girth for a sure grip.

Zoro

•You training.

God if he could choose one thing of you that is hotter than summer on Texas he would say watching you train. The way your locks of hair stick to your forehead; how your lips are slightly parted as you do cardio, or your heavy breathing while running. It all looks so fucking hot to him. The thin later of sweat makes your muscles shine slightly to the sun and when you throw your bottle of water on yourself by the heat he can’t help but groan at the sight of your wet shirt getting more transparent and showing your pecs. He’ll definitely fuck you from behind, taking you by the hips as you tried to do your plank repetitions.

“Your ass is so tight, you’ve been getting me hard all day with your stupid training routine, you can’t blame me— Ah!— now..” He groaned as he fucked you from behind, your pretty moans leaving your lips as clapping skin filled the room.

Sanji

•Taking his cigarette and blowing the smoke on his face.

As usual you were on the kitchen, sitting on the cabin as Sanji ended up cooking for the crew. He lit a cigarette as usual and offered it to you after him giving a few puffs, you took and, wanting to tease him, blew the smoke right on his face as he spoke to you in front of your face. His face got all red and damn, you weren’t going out of that kitchen any time soon.

“Sanji! Oh fuck, like that!” You moaned as the blonde man sinked between your legs, sucking hardly on your sex as you gripped his hair for dear life.

“Give me your sweet taste..” He mumbled, diving in his job again, people in this ship wouldn’t eat anytime soon.

A/N: Hope you liked it!

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ghost-proofbaby · 11 months ago

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a simple life (e.m.)

summary: you try to clean your depression room while eddie's over, but he keeps distracting you.

warnings: none except mentions of a dirty room and panties. also... a lot of nicknames. womp womp. not edited.

pairing: eddie munson x gn!reader

wc: 1.4k+

a/n: just a little sweet something i wrote thinkin' about eddie while i took on the task of finally cleaning my depression room after a few months of putting it off. idk. this is boring. i'm sorry.

“Where did you even get this postcard?”

“Eddie.”

“Or what about this choker? Is that a bat? It’s a- oh my God, babe. Why don’t you ever wear this? This is hot.”

Originally, you had thought it was a good idea. Invite Eddie over, allow the body-doubling tactic to work its magic, and voila – you’d finally have the clean room you’d been talking about achieving for weeks now, within a few hours.

“Baby,” you scold, trying to reach across the bed to snatch the necklace he’d found out of his hands. It proves to be difficult, a small pile of laundry you’d been folding hindering you.

“Sweetheart,” he mimics right back, quick to hold the necklace out of your reach, as if you were anyone near from stealing it back from him.

“I asked you to come over to help me, not distract me,” you sigh, crossing your arms and trying to look as pitiful as possible. When you’d first invited him over, you’d assured him that he needn’t lift a single finger. You didn’t want him here to help by aiding in throwing away any of the trash that had begun to litter your desk or taking any dirty plates to the kitchen. No, the intention had been him helping with his mere presence – quiet presence. He was supposed to be working on a new campaign for Hellfire, not being so damn nosey and going through the few items you’d tossed onto the bed from the floor, “I just recently bought that necklace, I haven’t had a chance to wear it.”

His eyes light up mischievously, a small grin tugging at his lips, “Why not wear it now, then? Perfect opportunity, yeah?”

“I’m not fulfilling any slutty maid fantasies you have, Eddie.”

“What if I say please?”

You huff and decide to give up the fight about the necklace, returning back to the laundry before you. You were almost done. You were almost done after a full day of cleaning. If your adorably curious boyfriend would just stop picking at your belongings, you’d probably be able to finish within the hour.

He stands from the small space on your bed he had made for himself, a nest of sorts that he had taken from simply curling up into for a ‘nap’ (which never happened’ to sitting up as he had just been as he clearly grew more bored with each passing moment. “Want some help with folding?”

“You just want an excuse to get your grubby hands on my underwear,” you grumble, folding a shirt with slightly more vigor to emphasize your point.

You’re right, of course. The first article of clothing he grabs is a pair of lacy black panties.

“Guilty,” he coos jokingly, but to your surprise, he actually folds the lingerie. Neatly, at that. With careful hands, he folds it even nicer than you would have in your haste, going as far as walking to your dresser and putting it away into the correct drawer. And then, he takes it a step further, and begins to put away the other clothing you’d already neatly wrapped up, suddenly depleting the mountain of laundry by half, “You know, I don’t mind helping you clean.”

“I already told you, you’re helping by bein-” you start to protest, hands grabbing at a random jean leg but not quite yanking it from the pile.

He’s quick to interrupt you, taking that pair of jeans right from you, “I don’t want to just lay there while you do all the work, contrary to all the sources that say men enjoy that.”

His face isn’t quite as taunting as it had been moments before. Some of the joking has vanished, replaced by something more serious yet somehow softer. The jeans are slung over his arms, neatly halved twice before he sets them to the side and looks at you.

Your shame is palpable, though. You’d just gotten over the embarrassment of having him over when your room would get this filthy. Disastrous in the worst of ways. Dirty clothes strewn everywhere, plates left for days on any surface you could find in your laziness, coke cans and random trash littering the floor. It was embarrassing. You know he had promised to love you through the good and the ugly, but this was far uglier than he could have ever imagined signing up for.

It was bad enough to have him see it, let alone clean it.

“It’s embarrassing,” you finally say quietly. His head tilts, so adorable it tugs at all your heart strings, and you take it as your queue to continue in a near whisper, “It’s gross - I’m gross.”

“Sweetheart, have you even seen my room?” he scoffs. He’s quick to shove some of the clean clothes up into a pile just enough that he can take a seat at the corner of your bed, quickly reaching out to grab your hands and guide you between his spread legs, “Shit happens. Life gets stressful, work gets busy, sometimes we just don’t feel like cleaning up. Shit happens,” his thumb is sweeping soothingly over your knuckles, clearing the impending storm you hadn’t even been aware of. Maybe he hadn’t either – a naturally caring and comforting aura has always been his thing rather than yours, “Out of everyone in this world, I am the least qualified to judge you.”

You don’t really understand it. How he can sit there, looking up at you so dreamily when the two of you are situated in the middle of your still unkempt room, your neck still chilled with a layer of sweat and your hair tumbling out of the bun you hadn’t properly secured. But he is. He’s looking at you not as if he doesn’t see the mess, both of the room and of yourself, but as if he does and simply doesn’t care.

“Besides,” his lips are splitting with another grin, his hands squeezing your hands three times, “It’s kind of domestic. ‘M kind of into it.”

“Me? Doing laundry?” you snort, blinking away any fears that had crept up. It’s hard to feel inadequate with his eyes on you, spilling so many sweet nothings like it’s just another casual Tuesday conversation and not the fuel to your beating heart, “Didn’t you just say you don’t want to just sit and-”

“Us,” he cuts you off in correction, “Us doing laundry.”

“You… like the thought of doing laundry with me?” you say slowly, carefully, unsure of the words as they fall from your lips.

Doing laundry sounded like the least romantic thing the two of you could ever partake in.

“I like the thought of doing laundry with you,” he repeats with a nod, “I like the thought of doing laundry with you, of doing dishes together after we just made the world's most mediocre dinner ever, of you complaining when I won’t get up so you can make the bed on the weekend,” he tugs you even closer. You have no choice but to let a knee fall to each side of his hips, straddling his lap as he wraps his arms around you and he leans forward to press a chaste kiss to one of your collar bones, “Call me cheesy. I like the thought of a simple life, but only if it’s with you.”

Something warms inside of you. The thought of a life of simplicity, of lazy mornings and boring afternoons, all brightened up by the boy in front of you. A boy who creates magical worlds with his words on a weekly basis, a boy obsessed with fantasy novels and all things adventurous, who wants his greatest life adventure to just be a mundane lifetime with you.

You can imagine it would be anything but mundane with Eddie, but the tranquility still exists and blankets the two of you.

You lift a hand, carding it through his scalp, careful not to let your fingers snag on his messy curls, “Does this mean you’ll do your taxes with me next week?”

With a quick snort, he buries his face into your chest, shaking his head furiously, “Don’t push it, sweetheart.”

You know he will, though. He’ll help you fold the laundry, he’ll help you wash the dishes, and he’ll certainly sit through the dreadful hours of doing taxes if they’re spent with you.

A few beats of silence. His arms have wrapped just right so that his warm palm presses into your lower back, the other hand tracing a mindless circle over your shirt a few inches higher. Your breathing matches his, fingers rubbing a matching pattern into his scalp that has him humming periodically.

The laundry will get done eventually, but it can wait. For now, you just want to hold your boy, and let him hold you.

“It’s a date,” he finally gives in, voice muffled, making you smile widely, “I’ll light candles and everything, sweetheart.”

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea @kellsck @cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking @witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore @mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog @vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @loveryanax @stylexrepp @princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles

#my writing #ghost's stories #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #this is so boring lmao my bad #i do believe he'd be such a lil nuisance if i was trying to clean with him in the room #this was written in under an hour and definitely not edited my bad #just wanted to stretch my legs with our favorite metalhead idk #look at me #finally writing and posting again #ooooooooo #i want a simple life with him please

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dear-slim · 2 months ago

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rescue me - m.m

Warnings: Smut, 18+, praise, tiny bit of degradation, choking, blowjob, oral (m and f receiving)

Pairing: Eminem x fem!reader

You didn’t actually have a lot of lines in the song, most of it was just repeating what Em said, or moaning. Not that you were complaining, your manager said this rapper dude was big, apparently, so you’d do the music video and the singing. It paid, anyways.

You’d practised a few times with Em, and you’re voices had matched each other perfectly well, but the thing that could become a slight issue would be the music video. After all, you found Em incredibly hot, and, well, he’d be lying if he didn’t say you were damn hot yourself.

The set had a purposefully seductive setting, candles lit in the corner, in an all white room, a bed in the middle. You’d gone through the script for it, it was a simple concept, you’d start off against the wall, and then the scene would change to the room with the bed and then to the doorbell scene.

Em was, unsurprisingly, nowhere to be seen as you stood on the set, wearing the black lingerie-like outfit, a diamond choker round your neck and a loose white unbuttoned shirt hanging off your arms. “Hey,” a voice made you turned around, your breath hitching as Em strutted on, wearing his white top and jeans.

He almost paused in his tracks as he saw you, in the outfit he had purposefully asked the wardrobe to set up for you to wear, when he’d have you on the bed, all spread out for him, looking so pretty under him…even if it was just for a music video. Who knew? It could be the only time he’d ever have you under him like that.

God he was glad he’d chosen that outfit for you, you looked amazing…

“Hi,” you finally said, the crew too busy fussing over perfecting the set to notice the tension between you and Em as he leaned against the wall, slightly awkward. “You, uh, excited?” he asked, clearing his throat. “I guess,” you said, voice matching his own nervousness, a fake smile on your face.

Fuck, why had he chosen you for this? You in a sex outfit, him in his own hot selection of clothing, a purposefully seductive setting along with filthy lyrics…it was the recipe for a baby disaster. He nodded, turning his head to stare and watch the crew instead. He remembered all those nights in the studios.

All those hours spent with you, late into the night, thinking of lyrics…lyrics he knew would make your core burn with pleasure, when he’d been so close to getting you how he wanted, on his cock- his thoughts were snapped out by the director clapping his hands and gesturing for you both to come to the scene.

The video started off well, your eyes wide as you tried to maintain a natural expression, your body pressed to the wall, one of Em’s hands trailing one your chest, your stomach, your collarbone, before the director moved onto the bed scene. “We’ll film part two tomorrow, yes?” the director asked.

“Alright,” Em said, “I’m gonna stay in the studio for a bit, you wanna stay?” he asked you. You thought about it for a moment, mouth opening then closing before you settled on a simple nod, your thighs burning with need. You sat on the bed on the set, watching Em as he walked onto the other side of the room.

He didn’t look up, his eyes on his musical equipment, sliding buttons and clicking things, none of which you really understood, but god he looked good. The orange flicker of the candles illuminated your face from the bed, sending an angelic glow across you as you watched, legs clicking together.

You watched as he left to some room to search for headphones, and you just ended up going on your phone. It was probably gonna be like every other night at the studio. Painfully close to sleeping together, but him just ending up with his hand wrapped around his cock, wishing it was your lips, or your fingers stuffed inside your soaking core, wishing it was him.

“You look good, by the way,” a voice interrupted your thoughts as Em sat down on the bed beside you, one of his legs over the edge of the bed. “Thanks,” you said, “you’re decent too,”. He raised a brow, a slightly playful smile on his face. “Just decent?” Em smirked, running a finger down your jaw.

“Oh shut up,” you huffed, not moving away from his finger. You moved head slightly back so he could trace small shapes across your skin, over the diamond collar, down below it onto the top of your chest….further…further down to the material clothing your core.

You could feel the way your breath caught in your throat as his finger circled over the tight material, tracing small patterns onto the inside of your thigh, moving to your clothed core. “You’re soaking,” he said, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as you closed your eyes, lashing fluttering against your cheek.

“Can’t even control yourself, can you?” he said, voice slightly forced and hoarse, and you could tell from that alone that his mood had shifted to a more…sensual sort of mindset. “How badly d’you need me?” he asked, dipping his head to press kisses to your neck and collarbone. “So bad,” you forced out, words slurring together in your need for him.

“That’s pathetic, Y/N,” Em said, littering your neck with kisses, moving to suck a deep red mark on your collarbone, visible to everyone no matter what you wore, “you’re supposed to play hard to get, you’re supposed to have me begging for your little cunt,” he slowly moved your lingerie to the side, running his finger through your folds.

His eyes travelled down your body, his hand on your waist as he took in every detail of your - from your gorgeous bright eyes, to your gorgeous body. His hand slowly met with your chin as he pulled you into a gentle kiss, his lips moving ever so softly against yours. God, the mood was about to change so damn much.

He slowly moved your lingerie out the way, not too much, yet enough for him to slip his fingers underneath. Your eyes closed firmly as you felt the pad of his finger, gentle at first, before picking up speed and roughness as he toyed with your clit, a smirk jumping to his face at the look of pure pleasure across your gorgeous features.

His lips hooked onto your neck, sucking softly as he left a mark, his large hand travelling through your hair before he pulled back, slipping his wet fingers inside your mouth. Your eyes rolled back slightly as he pushed to the back of your throat, a gagging sound muffled against the bottom of his fingers. “Good girl,” he whispered, letting your suck on his digits softly, before he moved his other hand down.

“Em,” you gasped, voice choked as he circled your clit, his other hand moving to push you down onto your back, your body bouncing on the softness of the mattress as he leaned down, half forcing your knees apart so he could sit between your legs, his eyes on your heat.

Your back arched, a moan on your lips as he tongue made contact with your clit, slowly circling it, his lips sucking round against your juicy folds. “Em, f-fuck,” you gasped, your hand moving to the back of his head, his tongue moving to your entrance as his nose brushed your sensitive bundle of nerves.

He hummed into your core, the sound vibrating through your body, your eyes fluttering closed once again as he fucked his tongue in and out of your entrance, curling round as much as he could, his lips shimmering with your juices. “Em, right there,” you pushed his head a bit, his nose hitting your clit once more.

“You’re needy,” he said, moving from between your legs as a whine of protest left your lips. God, he was so frustrating, why couldn’t he just give you what you wanted? “Whinging doesn’t get you anywhere, Y/N,” he said, his hand wrapping round your throat, the assortment of rings on his fingers catching the golden glow of the candles.

All you could do was moan at the squeeze around your throat, the pressure not enough to hurt, but to restrict your airway enough for Em to make sure you knew who was in control. It certainly wasn’t you, anyways. “Move,” he said, tugging on your neck as his other hand worked on undoing his belt.

You knew exactly what he was doing as he cupped your cheek, his belt sliding off as his cock sprung free against his abdomen, hard and thick. “You wanna touch it, hm?” Em smirked, the longing in your eyes only heightened as you watched his when slowly trace over the vein on the underside, pumping himself slowly.

“Yeah,” you said breathlessly, leaning forwards as he sighed. “Still haven’t learn your lesson,” he said, but he didn’t move back, moving his hand so you could trace the vein with your tongue, a groan leaving his lips as he moved his hand to the back of your head, his other hand still on your neck, squeezing softly.

“Fuck, how many other guys have you done this too?” he asked, watching as you moved your to lick over his throbbing head, using one hand to slowly spread his pre-cum over his length, your tongue working on his head, slowly tracing it, almost tantalisingly slow. “Y/N, I swear to god, I’m gonna-,” he said, cut off by his own sharp moan as you took his whole head in your mouth.

Em had been the one deciding all the rules earlier, now you got your own control. A low hiss left his lips, rumbling through his chest as you took more and more of his length, inch by inch, your tongue swirling around the underside of his cock, a small bulge forming as his head hit the back of your throat.

You may have even wrong about you being the one in control, however, as Em moved his hand from your throat to bunch your hair at the back of your head, holding you how he wanted you as he rocked his hips, his tip snapping into the back of your throat.

Your eyes watered slightly at the intensity, the lewd sounds of your gagging only heightening his need for you. Finally, he pushed you back, his chest lined with a sheen of sweat as you scrambled onto the bed, your legs parting almost as if they were made for him, begging for his presence.

“Fuckin’ needy,” he groaned again, his eyes on your wet core as he ran a finger over your heat once more, extracting a string of whines, your back arching into his hand as he pumped two fingers in and out of you, the silk, velvety walls of your core wrapping round him easily.

You whimpered as he pulled hair fingers back, his hands either side of your head, veins flexing along his forearm as he pushed slowly into you, your moans and his groans combining into a noise of pure, unadulterated pleasure, your legs thrown over his shoulders as he held himself on you.

“Fuck, your so tight,” he groaned, his head falling down slightly, his forehead resting against yours as the heat of your bodies combines, his body shimmering with a thin layer of sweat over his intricate tattoos and muscles. “Move…please,” you managed to choke out, your hands moving onto his shoulders, squeezing softly.

“Fuck, anything f’you,” he said, voice deeper than usual as he started moving slowly, the moisture in your core making it easy for him to do so, slick and almost better then lube, his cock sliding in and out of you easily. “How the fuck are you so wet?” Em muttered under his breath, more to himself than you.

“That’s wh-what happens when a chick has someone l-like you on top of them,” you stuttered, voice slurred and diluted with the essence of your pleasure, your body shaking with ecstasy, and he’d barely even moved. “Yeah? How long have you wanted this, hm?” he asked, “how many guys have you fucked since we met?”.

“N-None,” you said, your cunt clenching round his thick member involuntarily, your eyes rolling back softly. “You better be telling me the truth, Y/N,” he said, his lips dropping back to your ear, tongue tracing the shell of your ear softly as you moaned.

You could feel your moans getting louder and more intense as the air thickened, the heat of your bodies near unbearable as he picked up the pace, his hips snapping into yours at an ungodly pace, your body bouncing with each thrust. At this rate, he was going to leave a mark.

Maybe more than that - there was nothing heard in the room except your moans and whimpers, his groans and the lewd sound of his thick cock plunging into your heat. A confused frown jumped to your face as Em moved one of his hands down, further down, trailing over the warm, exposed skin of your waist and thighs…

“Shhhh, sweetie,” he mumbled as his finger circled your clit, a squeal of shock escaping you. It was probably the hundredth time he’d done that during your little session, yet it never failed to being that damn hot expression of shock onto you damn gorgeous face.

“Oh f-fuck,” you gasped as Em ran a hand over the bump in your stomach, his cock bulging thick and big inside of you, slamming into your soaking wet core repeatedly, your body bouncing, his hand resting on your throat as he used his other hand to grope your chest softly.

“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve gotten off to just imagining you like this?” he groaned, his head dipping to once again speak into your ear. “Me too,” you whimpered, your hands moving down to his back, nails dragging sown his skin as you chased your orgasm.

“‘s okay, angel,” Em said, his voice dropping to a more soothing tone, contrasting the jackhammering pace of his hips immensely, “you’re close, yeah?” he asked as you nodded, your body shaking and hands squeezing at his muscles. “Please,” was all you could choke out as he nodded. “I know, I know,” he said, his voice soft yet still commanding the dominance he wanted to make sure you had.

You can feel yourself tightening round him, squeezing his thick cock tighter than you ever thought you could, eyes shut, lashes fluttering as your body shot into small spasms, your nails digging into his biceps as your orgasm flooded through, like a sudden shock to your system.

You could feel him getting closer and closer as he groaned, his pace speeding up, cheeks tinged a soft pink as his thrusts became sloppier and sloppier, a final groan on his lips as his cum shot into you in thick, hot spurts, spilling down your thighs as you kept your legs over his shoulders, both of you panting.

“F-Fuck,” he groaned, almost in shock at his own orgasm. “God, you’re s-so fucking beautiful,” he said a few seconds later, pushing himself up on his arms so he could admire how you looked under him, panting, spent, and perfect for him.

You hissed as Em slowly moved you to lay on his chest, his lips coming to press kisses to your foreheads, strings of praises falling from his lips. “So good baby,” he mumbled, “‘so fuckin’ good f’me,” his quickened breathing slowing down, as did yours.

time skip

It was safe to say the emotions filming the next part of the Superman video were very much real.

Tags: @tiny-gay-satan coz ur my no.1 hype kid and also @anjee0 coz you’re also my hype kid

#eminem #slim shady #marshall mathers #eminem fanfiction #eminem fluff #eminem x reader #eminem imagine #marshall mathers x reader

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reiderwriter · 1 year ago

Note

Hii~ First of all I love your writing!

Now about the request... I really wanted one where Spencer is dating a painter who has the personality of a black cat (we all know that our Reid is a total golden retriever type) and everyone thinks that she is the dominant one of the couple since she has this more punk/alternative style, but the team couldn't be more wrong! A soft!Dom Spencer makes her obey and yield every time! ~thank u

A/N: Thanks so much for the request! I can definitely see myself making a part two for this if enough people are interested!! For now though, enjoy! ~✨

Warnings: mentions of public sex, BDSM roles, mentions of using dog collars in a sexual way, mentions of creampie.

Here's my masterlist and requests are open!~

“I can’t believe we’re finally meeting your mystery girl tonight, Reid. You’ve been so quiet about her, we’d have never even known if Penelope hadn’t hacked your phone on a hunch.” Emily laughed at the man from her perch at the bar, raising her glass in a cheers with her fellow agents.

“I’m not too sure she really exists, you know. I know what my baby girl said but the kid graduated from MIT, and we know texts can be doctored,” Morgan teased from the other side of the younger man.

In response, he simply rolled his eyes and let them continue their fun and games. He’d known the two agents for long enough to know that their teasing was loving, if not entirely warranted. He’d only kept you a secret because you’d asked him to, having wanted to make a good first impression on them. He’d have gladly shouted your name from the rooftops, but you were on the shy side sometimes.

“Oh you’re just jealous. You want me to help you take a little honey home tonight, Derek?” Emily turned on the other man this time and Reid breathed a sigh of relief that the attention was finally off of him.

“I am perfectly capable of collecting all by myself, thank you very much.” He turned an amused eye out to the rest of the bar, surveying the women in the bar like a predator looking or it’s next victim.

“What about that one? She good enough for the Derek Morgan?” Spencer glanced up at where she was pointing at the same time as the aforementioned male did and did his best to repress his smile. Emily had glanced to the door, where you stood, outfitted in a tight black dress, chunky thigh high boots and a stoic expression. You’d carefully washed all the paint that usually adorned your hair and face away, armouring yourself in red lipstick and dog collar choker, letting the look speak for itself.

“Now that is a nice piece of work, but not exactly what I’m into, sweet cheeks. I prefer my ladies a little bit less wild. A little more compliant if you pick up what I’m putting down.”

“Coward. Dominant women are more fun, right Reid?” Emily smiled back at the other man, but he was looking past the two of them waving to you.

“Oh great, you’re here. Emily, Derek I want you to meet my girlfriend, Y/N.” He grabs your hand and leads you the rest of the way to where they were standing, the grin on his face widening exponentially as the two splutter, praying to god that you didn’t just hear the tail end of their conversation about you.

“Hi, great to meet you. And yes, Emily, I agree. Dominant women do seem to have a lot of fun,” you winked at the woman a little bit and let your boyfriend excitedly drag you over to the bar to buy you a drink.

Recovering first, Emily pulled herself back into the barstool she’d recently vacated, and started asking you questions.

“So, how did you guys meet?”

“At the library actually. I was there installing a mural, and I saw him and decided I had to have him.” You smiled fondly up at your boyfriend, as he rolled his eyes and took another sip of his drink. You’d perched yourself between his legs, leaning your entire bodyweight back into his chest possessively, as he trailed a light hand over your waist.

“You’re a painter? Wow, that’s so wonderful.”

“Yeah, that’s the dream anyway. I also work part time at an art gallery downtown to help pay the bills. It’s where he tracked me down, so it worked out pretty well, I guess.”

“Tracked you down?” Morgan asked.

“Yeah, after our first… run in, I forgot to give him my number.”

“Run in? You said you met at the library, what else did you do if you forgot to swap numbers?” Emily laughed, half-heartedly, then stopped as soon as she saw the smug grin on your face paired with the awkward panicked expression on Reid’s.

“Shut up. No way, wait I don’t even want to hear this.”

You smiled up at the man, knowing that the way his two coworkers were imagining that first meeting was probably the exact opposite of how it had gone. Sure, you’d told the truth about approaching him first, but that was the extent of your control of the situation. You’d gone over to ask for his number, find out his name and ask if he was single. You’d returned to work an hour later with sore knees, no panties and a load of his cum dripping down your inner thighs.

He hadn’t even allowed you to give him his number, just promised that he’d find you again, and vanished from the library bathroom stalls you’d christened in sin with a lingering kiss on your lips and a whisper of “good girl.” You’d fallen for him hard, and you never wanted to get back up.

“Wow. And he was so desperate to find you again that he followed you to work. We taught you better than that, Reid, come on. You’re going to freak out the ladies if you come on that strong.” Morgan began teasing the man, ruffling his hair, and you bit your tongue to stop the laughter from exploding from your mouth.

You knew from your appearances that people often came to the wrong conclusions about how you and Reid were as a couple. Your style was more alternative, though not as intense as you’d been in high school, and his was more preppy nerd, but you balanced each other out well. You knew that it irked him sometimes though. And whenever he was pissed, he took it out on you in the best way.

After a few hours in the bar getting to know Morgan and Prentiss, and the two other lovely ladies who had arrived later, JJ and Penelope, Reid’s grip on your waist tightening made it clear that it was time for you to go home together.

“I think we’re going to head out now, guys. I’ll see you in the office on monday.” He said and moved off, but you wanted to see how far you could push it tonight, wanting to see the lengths he would take to not show his teammates that they had vastly misunderstood your relationship.

“But Spence, I just met them. I wanna talk some more,” you smirked up at him now, and saw his jaw clench. You were thankful you’d work the dog collar choker tonight, the thought of him grabbing it to yank you away making you squeeze your thighs together for some much needed friction.

“We’re going now, baby. Come here.” You ignored the order for another second, and you could feel the heat in his gaze, and the curiosity in his friends as they watched this struggle between you.

“Sweetie, did you hear me, I said we’re going now?” This time, you knew he wasn’t playing anymore, so with a quick “yes, sir,” you pushed yourself out of your seat and practically skipped over to him, a delighted grin on your face. He cupped you neck, wanting desperately to pull you in by the neck but choosing restraint instead, and brushed his lips to yours. Whenever he kissed you like that, it meant you’d caused trouble, and you knew you were going to spend the night paying for it.

“Bye-bye, everyone, it was so nice to meet you,” you called as he led you out of the doors and into the carpark.

“What the hell was that?” Penelope was the first one to crack, the others jaws still dropped to the floor.

“Did she just call him sir?” JJ laughed in incredulity.

“But-but I could’ve sworn they were…” Emily blubbered and the four of them sat there staring at the door, realising that they had underestimated their resident genius a little bit too much.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #mgg #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid request #dom spencer reid

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aikrus · 2 months ago

Text

My Sweet Kitten, Please Be Good

The room was dimly lit, with a soft, calming ambiance. The scent of Aizawa’s place—clean with a hint of something warm, like sandalwood—enveloped you, mixing with a heady spiced cinnamon, making everything feel both familiar and exhilarating. His cats had found their favorite spots around the apartment, quietly curled up on chairs or windowsills, watching you with disinterest, while Mochi, his gray tabby, still lounged in your lap. But tonight felt different, the tension between you and Aizawa subtly charged with something you both had been holding back for too long.

You'd both talked before about trust, desire, and the way boundaries blur when you're completely safe with someone. While you weren't insecure about your quirk, having long since grown into the bushy tail, puffed ears, and sensitive palms, it was something that Aizawa trended incredibly lightly over- especially in bed.

He shifted closer to you on the couch, his long fingers brushing over your leg before tracing a path up to your chin, tipping your face toward his. His dark eyes, so often unreadable, were filled with an intensity that made your pulse quicken. You could feel it in the way he looked at you— his touch, while gentle, held a new kind of authority that sent a shiver down your spine.

"You’ve been so good tonight," Aizawa murmured, his voice deep, almost a purr itself, as his thumb brushed your bottom lip. His gaze flicked down to Mochi, still content in your lap, before slowly returning to you. "It makes me wonder how obedient you can really be."

Your breath caught in your throat, your body reacting instinctively to the suggestion in his words. There was something playful, yet intense, in his tone—something that hinted at a game he wanted to play, one that excited him as much as it did you.

Aizawa leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Do you trust me?"

You nodded, your voice coming out in a soft, breathless murmur. "Yes, Shouta."

His hand slid from your chin to the back of your neck, pulling you closer until his lips met yours in a slow, deliberate kiss. It wasn’t rushed—Aizawa was never rushed. He was always calculated, always in control, and it showed in the way his tongue slid against yours, teasing and exploring, as if savoring every second of your response.

When he pulled back, his eyes were darker, more intense, and his fingers tightened slightly around your neck, not enough to hurt, but enough to make your heart race.

"I think it’s time we play," he murmured, his voice low, almost a growl.

Aizawa’s love for cats was no secret, and that was what you chalked up the reasoning for him never acknowledging those parts of you specifically. Now though, with the absolutely obsessed face he made as he stroked your ear between two fingers and moaned at your purr, you knew otherwise.

"Good God," he whispered, brushing a thumb against your lips again. "I want you to be my little kitten tonight."

The words sent a thrill down your spine, and you felt yourself instinctively lean into his touch, your mind already racing with the possibilities of what he had in mind. Aizawa’s hand left your neck and reached over to the coffee table, where he picked up something that had been sitting there—an object you hadn’t noticed before. It was a soft black choker, adorned with a small silver bell that jingled faintly when he picked it up.

Your heart skipped a beat as he held it up, the subtle jingle of the bell making you hyper-aware of the shift in dynamic between the two of you. Aizawa’s dark eyes met yours again, his gaze unwavering as he leaned in closer, holding the bell between his fingers.

"Let’s see how well you play the part," he murmured, his voice like velvet as he brushed your hair back and wrapped the choker around your neck. His fingers were deft, careful, as he secured it in place, the bell resting lightly against your throat. The sensation of it there—a small, constant reminder of your submission—made your pulse race.

Once the choker was in place, Aizawa’s eyes flicked down to your chest, his lips curving into a small, satisfied smirk as the bell jingled softly with every subtle movement you made. He leaned back slightly, his hands trailing down your sides as he looked at you with a mixture of admiration and desire.

"Such a pretty little kitten," he said, his voice low and husky as he traced a finger along the curve of your jaw. "Do you know what good kittens do?"

You shook your head slightly, your breath coming out in shallow, uneven gasps as you waited for him to continue.

"They listen," he said softly, his fingers brushing over the bell at your throat, making it jingle softly again. "They follow instructions. They’re obedient."

You panted at the heavy fog and deep burning that sounded you.

"If they're good," he lifts his head and sucks the tip of your ear into his mouth, "they get rewarded." His hands pulled gently at the hem of your shirt, slowly spreading up your stomach and ribcage to sliver under your bra. "If they're bad," he said casually as his fingers swiftly seized your nipples and began to tug and kneed, "they're punished."

Aizawa’s eyes darkened as his hands slid lower, resting on your thighs as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear once more. "And I think you’re going to be a very good kitten for me tonight, aren’t you?"

Your body was already trembling with anticipation, the heat between your legs growing more intense with every word he spoke. You nodded again, your voice barely a whisper as you replied, "Yes, Shouta. I’ll be good."

Aizawa’s lips curled into a pleased smile, and he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek before pulling back slightly. "That’s what I like to hear," he murmured, his hands sliding up your thighs, parting them gently as he positioned himself between your legs.

He moved slowly, deliberately, his hands caressing your skin with a kind of reverence that sent shivers down your spine. His fingers traced over the soft fabric of your underwear before slipping beneath it, his touch warm and firm as he explored the wet heat between your legs.

You gasped softly, your hips instinctively bucking against his hand as he teased you, his fingers brushing lightly over your clit before sliding down to your entrance. The bell at your throat jingled softly with every movement, a constant reminder of the game you were playing, the role you were fulfilling.

"Such a good girl," Aizawa murmured, his voice full of praise as his fingers slowly slid inside you, curling and exploring in a way that made you moan softly. "So wet already."

His touch was slow, methodical, each movement of his fingers calculated to drive you closer to the edge without giving you the release you craved. He was taking his time, savoring every moment, every gasp and moan that escaped your lips.

And all the while, the bell continued to jingle softly, a quiet, constant reminder of your submission, of the power he held over you in this moment.

Aizawa leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your neck as he whispered, "Kittens need to be spoiled, don’t they?"

Aizawa's breath was warm against you, and the sensation of his lips, soft yet deliberate, sent shivers through your body. The way he spoke—low, rough, with an undertone of possession—made you ache with need. His fingers, slow and precise, moved inside you, pushing deeper as he claimed every inch of your response.

His touch was gentle, but it carried with it an edge that had you trembling beneath him, the need for more, for everything, building rapidly. You could feel your body tightening, the tension pooling between your legs as he controlled every movement.

"You’re so good for me," he muttered against your skin, his voice thick with desire. "Look at you, following my every move."

You gasped, your hands gripping his forearm, your head falling back as his fingers moved faster, bringing you closer to the edge. The bell on the choker jingled with every shift of your body, reminding you of your role in this quiet, intimate game. Aizawa was treating you with a mixture of care and dominance, a perfect balance of trust and control.

"Do you like this, kitten?" Aizawa’s breath was a hot whisper against your ear as he leaned in to kiss your collarbone, his fingers never ceasing their movement. "Do you like being spoiled like this?"

You could only nod, the words caught in your throat as the pleasure swirled inside you, too much and not enough all at once. Every part of you burned with need, and the only thing you could focus on was how good he made you feel—how completely he had you.

"I’m going to take care of you," Aizawa whispered, his tone more intense now, and the possessiveness in his voice sent a thrill through your body. His hand slid from your neck down to your chest, tracing the curve of your breast before tugging at the fabric of your clothes, exposing more of your skin to him.

You shivered under his touch, the way he looked at you—hungry and affectionate at once—making your pulse quicken. You wanted him so badly, you needed to be closer, to feel every part of him. Without thinking, your hands roamed to his shirt, fumbling slightly as you tugged at it, eager to have him bare before you.

Aizawa pulled back just enough to help you, his dark eyes locking with yours, and his expression was soft yet commanding. His fingers, still deep inside you, stilled as he looked down at you, watching your face, waiting for you to meet his eyes.

"Are you ready?" he asked, his voice low, filled with anticipation.

You nodded, your lips trembling as you whispered, "Yes... I need you."

He didn’t hesitate after that. Aizawa withdrew his fingers, his other hand helping you to sit up as he finally, finally shed the rest of his clothes. The moment his body was bare before you, you gasped—he was lean, muscular, every inch of him sculpted with care and strength. His eyes watched you, calm yet burning with intensity as you took him in.

You were both on the edge—both desperate for the same thing.

Aizawa’s hands rested on your hips, his touch gentle, though the way his thumb traced slow, deliberate circles made your breath catch. He leaned in, his lips pressing against your temple in a fleeting, tender kiss before moving down, brushing his lips over your neck, your collarbone, your chest—each kiss building the heat between you.

His hands slid to your thighs, parting your legs as he positioned himself between them, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he looked up at you one last time. The bell on your choker jingled softly, a quiet, constant reminder of the game you were playing, the trust and control, the way he made you feel—like a kitten in his care.

"You’re mine, aren’t you?" he murmured, his voice rough with desire, and without waiting for an answer, he guided himself to your entrance, his eyes never leaving yours.

The first slow thrust of his hips had you gasping, your body clenching around him as he stretched you open, filling you completely. The sensation of him inside you was both overwhelming and intoxicating, making you ache with the need for more.

"Yes, I’m yours," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath, but Aizawa heard it, and the satisfied, almost possessive smile that tugged at his lips sent a fresh wave of heat through you.

He moved slowly at first, his pace measured, almost methodical as he watched you—taking in every reaction, every gasp and moan that escaped your lips. His hands rested on your hips, his fingers pressing firmly as he guided your movements, pulling you closer with each deep thrust.

The pace grew faster, more urgent as your body began to respond in kind, meeting his movements with increasing fervor. The pleasure was building inside you, that slow, tight coil winding tighter with every roll of his hips, every stroke that had you clinging to him.

"You’re doing so well," Aizawa murmured, his voice thick with admiration and lust. "So good for me, kitten."

His words sent a shudder through you, the weight of his praise, the way he spoke to you—like you were everything to him, and you were willing to give him all of you. His pace quickened, his fingers digging into your skin as he brought you closer to the edge, the pressure building inside you.

You gasped as your orgasm approached, your fingers gripping his shoulders as you arched against him, your body trembling. "Shouta... I—" You couldn’t finish, the words lost in the rush of pleasure that was quickly consuming you.

"Come for me, kitten," he growled, his grip tightening as he drove deeper into you, faster now, faster, until your mind went blank, and you felt the wave of release crash over you like a storm, leaving you breathless and moaning his name.

Aizawa groaned as your body tightened around him, and he grew in speed like a man possessed. Your body lurched in response, flinging your head into his broad shoulder and pulling off of him slightly in the process. With a deep growl he grabbed roughly at the back base of your neck and pulled you back down onto the mattress, pistoning into you at a deathly tantalizing speed. Reaching down with his spare hand he pinched your clit once before using his index to move rapidly across it.

You hadn't even come off your first high before Shouta had thrown you into another one. In a few hard, controlled thrusts, he followed you over the edge, his own release flooding inside you as he collapsed against your chest, breathing heavily.

For a moment, neither of you moved, both of you wrapped in the warmth of the other, the shared intimacy of the moment hanging in the air between you. Aizawa’s breathing slowed, his body relaxing against yours as he pulled you closer, his hand gently resting on your choker, as if ensuring it was still in place.

"Good girl," he whispered, his lips brushing against your forehead in a soft, lingering kiss. "Such a good kitten."

You smiled softly, your body still trembling from the aftershocks of your release, but the warmth of his embrace, the steady rhythm of his breath, made you feel safe, secure, and cherished. You were his, and he was yours.

And that was enough.

You felt his gaze trace the lines of your body, lingering on your flushed skin. There was something about the way he looked at you—an intensity, a need to claim but also care for.

Aizawa was never one to rush, especially when it came to you. There was a methodical slowness to how he touched you, how he approached every new moment, but now, you saw something else—an almost predatory precision in his movements. He was studying every inch of you, and it wasn’t about control anymore. It was about devotion.

He leaned down, his lips brushing lightly against the curve of your collarbone, his breath warm against your skin. You could feel him exhale against your sensitive flesh, the soft touch of his lips enough to make your skin tingle. You shuddered, instinctively leaning into the touch, a quiet sigh escaping your lips.

Aizawa’s hand slipped down from your waist, tracing the shape of your thigh, before he looked up at you, his voice rough but gentle. “You’re still so perfect,” he muttered, the words sending a jolt through your chest.

You watched him closely as he moved down your body, his gaze never leaving yours, studying your reactions. He leaned in closer, placing a soft, lingering kiss along the inside of your thigh. You couldn’t help but tense in anticipation. It was a tender gesture, but there was a hunger to it—a sense of needing to taste, to touch, to claim. His mouth lingered on your skin, savoring the feel of you against his lips.

He was meticulous—his lips brushing over your skin, as though he were memorizing every inch of you. Then, as if it were a natural instinct, his lips parted, and he pressed a soft kiss closer to where your pulse beat furiously under your skin. You moaned softly, your body reacting to the gentle pressure of his lips.

Aizawa didn’t speak, but you felt the shift in him—a deep, wordless understanding. He knew what he wanted, and now, his mouth trailed lower, the heat of his breath warming your sensitive skin. His lips moved with purpose, pressing sweet, firm kisses against the inside of your thighs. He took his time, slowly building the tension, enjoying the act of loving you.

When his lips finally touched the sensitive nerves at the apex of your thighs, your breath hitched. He paused there, just for a moment, his eyes flicking up to meet yours, as if asking for permission—asking if this was what you wanted. There was no hesitation in your response, no words needed; your body leaned into his touch, craving more of him.

With a low, approving murmur, Aizawa dipped his head down, his tongue tracing a slow, deliberate path across your folds. The sensation was soft, almost reverent, the pressure of his mouth more intense with each pass. His movements were patient, controlled, but there was also an edge of hunger there, an insatiable need to taste more of you, to explore the parts of you he hadn’t yet claimed.

His lips were firm, but the way he used his tongue—slow, languid strokes—had you gasping, your hands gripping the sheets as your head fell back, overwhelmed by the feeling of him worshipping you with each tender kiss. He was savoring you, as though he couldn’t get enough of the way you responded to him.

You whimpered softly, your fingers threading through his disheveled hair, guiding him closer, but Aizawa pulled back slightly, his breath coming in shallow bursts. His dark eyes, filled with desire, met yours once again. The bell rings softly as you tilt your head down to see him.

“I want to hear you,” he said, his voice rough with an undercurrent of desire. “I want you to let me know how much you like it.”

You gasped, a shiver running down your spine at his words. You couldn’t help but obey. “I-I like it, Shouta,” you whispered, your voice trembling with the raw need inside you.

He smiled faintly, the curve of his lips almost imperceptible, but the way his eyes softened told you all you needed to know. “Good girl,” he whispered against your skin, before diving back in.

His mouth continued its slow, purposeful dance, his tongue teasing and tasting you, every stroke drawing out more sounds, more reactions from you.

As the moments stretched on, your body became a tangle of sensations, the pleasure building in slow waves, crashing over you with every stroke. And through it all, Aizawa never hurried. His touch was steady, his devotion to your pleasure evident in every deliberate action that drove you crazy.

"You're so responsive," he whispered, his voice a low, intimate growl that made your entire body shiver. His hands slid higher, resting on your hips, grounding you as he moved, his lips barely brushing the sensitive skin at the edge of your inner thigh. His dark eyes were filled with a hunger you had never seen before, but there was also something deeper—an unspoken affection, a care that made your heart race.

You were breathing heavily now, your pulse quickening, as his mouth continued its careful, tantalizing exploration. His tongue traced slow, teasing lines across the delicate skin, the heat of his touch making your skin feel like it was burning, and you couldn’t help but writhe beneath him, your body craving more.

"Shouta... please," you gasped, your hands tangled in his disheveled hair, pulling him closer.

Aizawa looked up at you, his expression dark and possessive, but there was also something gentler in his gaze. He seemed to be studying you, watching the way your body reacted to his every touch. "Begging already?" he asked, his voice rough with desire, but there was a teasing edge to it.

The heat in your core surged, and you could feel a soft pressure building, as though your body were being pulled toward something that was just out of reach. You wanted to answer him, to give him the response he was clearly waiting for, but all you could do was nod, your fingers tightening in his hair as you tried to steady your breath.

"I want to feel you," you whispered, your voice trembling with need. "I need you, Shouta."

He let out a low, approving sound as his hands tightened on your hips, pulling you even closer as his lips continued to trace the curve of your inner thigh. He moved deliberately, his tongue gliding in soft, teasing strokes, making you squirm beneath him, your entire body on fire. His touch was slow, but there was no mistaking the demand in his movements.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice low and rough, the words a dark promise that made your skin prickle with heat. "You’re mine to take care of, to please."

His words, his tone, were a mixture of praise and dominance, and it only made the pressure inside you grow stronger. You felt that familiar tightness coil, as though you were on the verge of breaking apart, but you didn’t want it to end. You wanted more—more of him, more of this slow, exquisite torture.

"You’re doing so well," he breathed, his voice thick with desire. His lips brushed against your skin before he took a slow, deliberate taste, his tongue teasing in gentle, circular motions.

Your breath hitched in your throat as the pressure inside you finally snapped, a wave of pleasure surging through you, and you cried out, the sound echoing through the room. Aizawa didn’t let up, though. He kept his movements steady, his mouth working you through your release, his fingers digging into your hips, grounding you as your body convulsed with pleasure.

When the wave of sensations passed, and you were left breathless beneath him, Aizawa pulled back just enough to look at you, his face dark with satisfaction. His lips were glistening, but there was something almost playful in his expression as he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

"You look incredible," he whispered, his hand sliding up your side, his touch warm and possessive. "But I’m far from finished with you."

His words sent a fresh wave of heat rushing through you, and without another word, Aizawa leaned down to kiss you—slow, deep, and possessive. The taste of you lingered on his lips, mixing with his need, and it only made you crave more. His hands roamed over your body, exploring the newly exposed skin, his touch firm and guiding.

"You’re mine tonight," he murmured against your lips, his voice low and thick with desire. "And I’m going to make sure you remember it."

Every brush of his lips, every caress of his hands, he moved with precision, his control never faltering, but you could sense the growing desperation beneath the surface, the need for release that mirrored your own.

Aizawa’s kisses grew more insistent, his hands wandering, taking their time to explore, as though he were rediscovering every inch of you. The intimacy of the moment was overwhelming, and you let yourself melt into his touch, surrendering to the slow, building wave of passion that took over you both.

He leaned back slightly, his eyes dark, filled with a possessive hunger that only grew as he watched you. "I want to feel every part of you," he murmured, the words dripping with desire.

The exhaustion seeped into you rapidly, as your eyes fluttered shut.

God I feel so good.

Aizawa pulled back slowly, his breathing still heavy but steadying, his dark eyes searching your face for something, any sign of discomfort. His hand rested gently on your hip, his thumb stroking small, soothing circles into your skin.

You were both quiet for a few moments, just basking in the aftermath, the silence comforting as your bodies adjusted to the peaceful calm that followed. You could feel the tenderness in the way Aizawa touched you, as if he was trying to ground you, to reassure you that everything was okay.

He shifted beside you, pulling you closer until your head rested against his chest. His hand moved up to gently brush the hair from your face, his touch slow and deliberate, like he was memorizing the way you felt in this moment.

“You’re okay,” he murmured softly, his voice low but full of concern. He could feel your breath still uneven, your pulse racing beneath his fingertips. “Breathe, just like that. I’ve got you.”

You nodded, feeling the softness of his voice wrap around you like a protective blanket. The connection between you two felt stronger now, the raw intensity of the moment replaced by an overwhelming sense of comfort.

His other hand, warm and calloused, slid up to your shoulder, gently squeezing as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

You let your eyes flutter shut once more, your body relaxing into his warmth, the tenderness of it all washing over you. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice soft and vulnerable.

Aizawa's breath hitched slightly at the sincerity in your words, and he pulled you in a little closer, as if needing to feel you against him, to make sure you were really there, really okay. He buried his face in your hair, inhaling deeply, almost as though he was savoring the scent of you—the aftermath, the peace that now filled the space where there had been only fire moments before.

“You don’t need to thank me,” he whispered. His hand moved from your shoulder to your side, his fingers tracing lazy patterns across your skin. “I’m here. I’ll always be here for you.”

The quiet weight of his words made your heart swell. You could feel the love behind them, and the care, the desire to keep you safe and cherished.

You shifted slightly, pressing your cheek against his chest, letting the steady beat of his heart lull you into further relaxation. His hand rested on your back, a comforting pressure that grounded you in the moment.

“I’ve got you,” he repeated, his voice like a soothing balm, each word brushing over you like a kiss. “Let me take care of you now.”

And so he did. His movements were slow and careful as he tucked a few strands of hair behind your ear and kissed your forehead. His hands stroked gently over your body, a way of reaffirming his presence, of showing you that he was there and that you were safe and cherished.

After a few minutes, Aizawa reached over and grabbed a soft blanket, pulling it over both of you. He shifted slightly so you could settle against him more comfortably, his arm draping over your waist. You fit perfectly in his embrace, as though you belonged there.

He pressed a soft kiss to your temple, his voice now quieter, more intimate. “Get some rest,” he whispered. “We’ll talk more tomorrow. You’re safe, I promise.”

You nodded, your eyelids heavy, the exhaustion from the intense connection weighing you down. You felt safe in his arms, the warmth of his body a shield against the world outside.

As you began to drift off, Aizawa’s hand remained gently resting on your side, his breathing slow and steady, matching yours. The rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear was a lullaby, a reminder that no matter what, he would always be there.

The last thing you remembered before sleep took you was the feel of his lips on your forehead, whispering softly, “I love you.”

And in that moment, you knew that you were truly home.

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