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ellecdc · 1 month ago

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Hey Elle my love!! Could I please request chef!sirius who discovers that his girl (while a beast behind the bar) is actually tragic in the kitchen? Like whether the food turns out good is up to you, but she’s just constantly burning her fingers, cutting herself, making giant messes, and I feel like he’d be both frightened and a bit smug about his own prowess haha. Feel free to take whatever from this you like, and no pressure of course <3

something you want to share with the class, mae?

chef!Sirius Black x mixologist!reader who is banned from the kitchen [1.1k words]

CW: one suggestive part, Sirius coddling reader, reader needs to be coddled, fluff

Sirius lets himself into your flat, which still makes his stomach flip pleasantly when he thinks about it.

It was innocuous enough when it started; he would come by and knock at your door and you’d shout “it’s open!” and he would walk in and accost you with kisses before saying “you need to stop leaving your door unlocked, doll” to which you’d reply “but I like having you just walk in like you own the place”.

And, well, Sirius liked the words coming from your mouth so much that he set the situation aside in favour of ravishing you. But by the time the two of you were sweaty and breathless and laying naked tangled in your sheets, it had been you who brought it up again.

“Would this make you feel better?” You whispered as you slid a hand up his chest, and he could feel something cold between the warmth of your hand and his chest. He took your wrist gently between his fingers and lifted your hand to expose a key as well as a plastic fob.

“Wha-”

“It’s my keys. Well, not my keys, but...keys…to here, to my flat.”

“You…you’re giving me keys to your flat?” He asked breathlessly, and you tried to burrow further into the bed and hide your face in his shoulder.

“I- sorry, sorry. I don’t know if it’s too soon, but I just- you know what, I’m sorry, forget I-”

But he pulled you back up and positioned your knees on either side of his hips so you were straddling him, forcing you to look at him.

“You have no idea how lovely you are, do you?” He whispered with no shortage of awe, and the two of you fell into each other again.

Long story short, he took your keys and probably (absolutely) abused the power that came with having them, but you hadn’t said anything about it yet so he wouldn’t either.

So, Sirius let himself into your flat; his senses assaulted from the beautiful spices of what smelled like butternut squash soup, the sound of your music playing from the speaker in your kitchen, and the beautiful sight of you in an oversized t-shirt - scratch that, one of Sirius’ t-shirts - and not much else as you flit through the kitchen like a fusion between a ballroom and an Irish dancer; quick and graceful on your feet.

Absolutely nothing else about the kitchen looked graceful, however.

“What are you making, doll?” He called over as he leaned his elbows on the only clean portion of your kitchen island; you’d been so immersed in your current task that you actually startled at his voice.

A smile quickly spread over your face as you shouted at alexa to turn the volume down. “Hi, baby.” You greeted eagerly - breathless from what seemed to simply be excitement at seeing him here - as you made your way around the island to him.

“Hi, doll.” He whispered as he perched himself on one of the stools and accepted you between his legs; your arms moving to tangle in some of the hair at the base of his neck as you breathed him in.

“Hi, baby.” You repeated.

“What are you making?” He asked again, nudging your nose with his.

“Soup!” You said eagerly, pressing another kiss to his lips, one more, and a peck to his nose before dislodging yourself from him and rushing back to the stove top.

“All this for some soup, huh?” He offered as casually as he could manage whilst he surveyed your kitchen; vegetable ends, splashes of cream, spilled salt and spices, used measuring cups and more than a few dirtied paper towels littering every inch of your counter space.

But what caused him the most concern and confusion was the splatters and chunks of puree up the walls, cupboards, and - most disturbingly - in your hair.

“Gorgeous, did you get in a fight with the squash or something?” He teased as he moved towards you, almost slipping on a splatter that was next to your bare feet. “Y/N.”

“I…may have forgotten to put the lid on the blender when I started it.” You offered reluctantly.

“May have forgotten? Sweetheart, there’s more soup on your walls than in your bowl; was it still hot?”

You made a noncommittal sound and refused to look at him which was all the answer he needed.

“Okay, that’s it.” He decided as he took the utensils out of your hands - locking both of your wrists in one of his hands when you went to grab them back - turned the stove off and ushered you to his now vacated stool.

“I’m fine, Sirius.” You whined, though you allowed him to lift you up onto the stool.

“It’s in your hair.” He responded as he worked his fingers through the offending lock. “Where else did it land?” He asked as he surveyed your face.

You simply batted your eyes at him with a pout on your pretty lips.

“Y/N.”

“Sirius.”

“Where else did it land?” He repeated, crouched down so he was level with you and giving you a look that he really, really hoped conveyed no nonsense.

Your lips pursed as you lifted your arm to expose the soft, sensitive underneath of your forearm that was hastily wrapped with paper towel and something sticky.

“Baby.” He cooed almost embarrassingly as he lifted your arms for a better view. It appeared you had hurriedly smeared some burn cream on it before slapping paper towel over it in favour of finishing your meal.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled pathetically, and Sirius wanted to shake you for that, too.

“What’re you apologising to me for? You’re the one who was maimed.” He all but whimpered, turning away from you only to grab a cloth and run it under cold water.

“It tastes really good though.” You explained solemnly as he returned to between your legs as if you thought that made what had happened here at all better.

“Gorgeous, that soup could very well be served at a Michelin star restaurant and I’d still sodding hate it for doing this to my sweet girl.”

You cocked your head at him and pursed your lips in an attempt to quell the no doubt beaming smile threatening to take over your face.

“You have no idea how lovely you are, do you?” You murmured at him, and he couldn’t help but return your smile with a soft one of his own.

Sirius let out a sigh mixed with exasperation and fondness as he pressed kisses up the length of your forearm. “You’re banned from the kitchen.” He spoke into your skin.

“But-”

“Banned, baby girl. Capital B - banned.”

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heavenlyraindrops · 5 months ago

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☆ “ᴡɪꜱʜ ᴍᴇ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ʟᴜᴄᴋ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴᴀʟʟʏ.” | ᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴀᴛᴏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ☆

☆ She said “fuck me like I’m famous” | Chapter Two

☆ Warnings: profanity, blowjobs, light grinding, part two of a series but you can read it as a stand-alone too (the only context required: they fucked once before), author!reader, reader writes smut :)

☆ Word count: 2k, Available on: Tumblr, AO3

You stared at the phone clutched in your hands, held above your face. Ken’s number on the screen.

You’d gotten it about a week ago. You hadn’t spoken to him yet.

In all fairness, that was your fault. He didn’t have your number- you’d both been so dazed it was a miracle you’d remembered to ask him yourself, simply telling him you’d call him.

You hadn’t called him.

You sighed, your arms tiring out from the strain of holding up your phone, so you rolled onto your stomach, elbows digging into your bedsheets. The screen read the time- five to nine.

You bit your lip, and pressed the call button.

It took a couple of rings for him to pick up, and when he did, the silence was so deafening you didn’t even notice.

“Hello?” You asked tentatively.

“Hey- hey!” His voice was tired, weighed down by fatigue. It made something stir in between your legs. “[name]?”

“Yeah.” You ran your tongue over your lips nervously, listening to his soft breath on the other end of the line. “I’m not- I’m not bothering you, am I?” You asked weakly. He gave a low laugh, and oh my god it sounds so fucking hot.

“No,” he murmured. “You’re not bothering me.” Your chest untightened, despite the fact you could tell he sounds like he just woke up.

“Plus,” he continued, “If I got to hear your voice I’d hardly call it something bothering me.”

You sucked in a harsh breath, but didn’t say anything, biting the inside of your cheek.

“I was getting worried you wouldn’t call, you know.” You eased yourself onto your side as he spoke, pressing the phone against your ear. “So. Did you need anything, or…”

“No,” you said quickly, then froze up, wondering if it came out wrong. “N-no, I mean, I just wanted to wish you… good luck on your game tomorrow.” You buried your face half into the pillow, wrapping an arm around it. “You probably don’t need it, but…”

A few seconds of silence ticked by, and you wondered if you had angered him, when he spoke up again, voice still hoarse with sleep and now seemingly laced with something else you couldn’t- could have deciphered. But you pushed the thought away from your brain.

“You wanted to wish me good luck?” You could hear the smirk in his voice.

Your eyes became half lidded, as excitement raced through you. “Yeah,” you mumbled, lips still pressed against the soft fabric of your pillow cover.

“And you think I don’t need it.”

You hummed softly. “You’re a good player.”

He paused, amused. “I was under the impression you know nothing about baseball.”

You frowned. “Well, I’m not, just, like, saying it.”

“Oh sweetheart, I know.”

Your face suddenly grew hot, and not just at the nickname. Instead of insinuating you were just saying whatever came to mind to flatter him- was he implying that you specifically researched stuff for him? Or that maybe it was just him that you looked up?

Well, he was right. But that was far beyond the point.

“All I’m saying is that you’re a good player. You got a problem?” Your tone didn’t match your words at all.

“Nah… I actually quite like it when you compliment me. Go on, do it again.”

“What?”

“Say it again.”

You rolled your eyes, suppressing a smile. “You’re good at baseball.”

“That’s right. And what else am I good at?”

You froze, muscles tensing up, then fell back face first into your bed, buzzing with embarrassment. “Don’t push it, Ken,” you mumbled, face burning.

He laughed again, slightly breathless this time, and you pulled your hand up and trapped it under your chest to stop it from sliding down below your waist. “Tell you what, sweetheart. If you wanted to wish me good luck so badly you called me while I was asleep, late at night-“

Your chest tightened with anxiety.

“-maybe you should come over and wish me good luck personally.”

You immediately shot up out of bed, heart hammering in your chest as you stared at the screen. “Y-yeah?”

“If you’re down.” His voice suddenly sounded slightly nervous.

“Oh, I’m down.”

“Great. I’ll see you th-“

You immediately cut the call.

You kicked the covers off of your legs, hands searching blindly for your keys as you pulled on a hoodie. A notification popped up on your phone- his number, a single text message, and address.

Oh, Lord, thank you for forcing me to go outside and undergo true human interaction that fateful evening.

“Hey.”

You stood outside his door, face flushed from the cold and shivering with your hands buried in your pockets. He looked you up and down.

“You got here fast,” he murmured, and you shrugged nervously.

“Excited to see you,” you tried, and he laughed, hand reaching out, fingers curling around your wrist and pulling you inside, up against him for a split second before he moved away, much to your disappointment.

“Get comfortable,” he said, flicking his head at the couch. You pushed your fists back in your pockets, following him over, where he flopped down, tipping his head back. You went to sit next to him but he grabbed your waist, pulling you into his lap.

You let out a sharp breath. “What are you doing.”

“Helping you get comfortable,” he said nonchalantly, slipping his digits in between yours, kissing your fingertips. A shiver shot up your spine, and he tilted his head. “You know what? Let’s talk.”

“Talk?” You echoed.

“Yeah, get to know each other better.”

“We got to know each other at the dinner,” you pointed out, and he rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, and after that too, right?” He remarked. Your face slowly turned red, making him grin. “And I said better, baby.”

“Fine, better. What do you want to talk about?”

“Anything. Just ask me a question.”

“Fine.” You thought hard, but with him pressed up against you, hands on your thighs, it was hard for you to think clearly. “How’d you get into baseball?”

He tilted his head. “It made my parents happy watching it, so I thought…” He looked down, and smiled softly. “I thought, if I could do that, if it would make them cheer like they-“ he sighed, cutting off his sentence. “Then I’d have to. You know?” His thumbs were rubbing circles into your skin.

You leaned over, running your hand through his hair, pushing it away from his face. “That’s… sweet, actually.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Did you think it wasn’t gonna be?”

“Considering how you act-“ you jabbed him in the chest, and he smirked. “-no.”

“How exactly do I act?”

You paused, then frowned. “I don’t know, confident?”

His hand went from your thigh to your hip. “What’s wrong with that?”

Your bottom lip caught between your teeth. “Nothing.”

“Exactly.” His fingers dug into your skin. “So, why’d you become an author?”

You swallowed. “I like stories.”

He laughed. “Is that it?”

You smacked his chest. “Obviously there’s more. I’m just not good with words.”

“You’d think, being an author…”

“Whatever!”

“Don’t you work with words for a living?”

You stayed silent for a moment, then sighed. “I started daydreaming a lot when I was younger. I figured, if I could put those dreams down on paper, like other authors did, bring them to life, make people feel things-“ you shrugged, embarrassed. “Look, I don’t know. It just started with a massive maladaptive daydreaming problem.”

“Right.” He hummed, fingers splaying across your skin, creeping under the hem of your top. “For the record, I think that’s sweet too, you know.”

Your other hand was still buried in his hair. “Thanks,” you mumbled, feeling his breath on your lips.

“Maybe I should read one of your books some time. They’re really popular, right?”

“Yeah,” you said, then your eyes suddenly widened. “No way. No, you’re not reading them.”

He laughed, amused. “Why not? What’s stopping me?”

You glared at him.

“What did you say you write?” He continued. “Romance?”

Your face burned as you quickly looked away. “It’s not just that, okay?”

He hummed, eyes fixed on your collarbone, a few faded, barely-visible bruises. “Right. You ever include, like, sexual stuff in your novels?”

You almost shot out of his lap and threw yourself out the window right then and there. “Huh?” You spluttered. “What do you mean?” Yes, yes I do.

“Like, smut, or whatever it’s called. You write that?”

“How’s that relevant?” Your voice was slowly rising in pitch, and he smirked.

“Nothing, just wondering why you don't want me to read your stuff so badly. Plus, I could figure out what you like.” He tapped his finger against your side, and you swallowed.

“I’d probably like anything you do,” you laughed, albeit breathlessly. He raised an eyebrow.

“Or you can tell me.”

You opened your mouth, but no sound came out. He smirked, a subtle roll of his hips making him grind up against you not going unnoticed. You sucked in a harsh breath.

“I bet you write down every little fantasy you have onto that paper, yeah?”

“I type it,” you retorted, albeit breathless as your body responded to his touch, involuntarily bucking your hips. His grip on them tightened, holding you in place as he clicked his tongue.

“So you do write that sort of stuff.”

You bit your cheek to smother a whimper, instead worming your hand down to palm his growing bulge. His breath hitched visibly, a muscle in his neck tightening as you stroked gently.

“Maybe,” you breathed, eyes glittering.

Getting off of him, you sank to your knees, nestling yourself in between his legs. You pressed a kiss to the tented fabric, making him tense up underneath. “Now, you want me to ‘wish you good luck personally’ or not?”

Your hand unzipped his trousers, and you could feel him holding in a breath as you pulled his length from his boxers- throbbing, a pearl of precum on the tip. You could feel your saliva gathering in your mouth as you swiped your thumb across it, making him flinch and almost buck up into your hands.

“You know,” he said, voice wavering. “Maybe I’ll win the game from this alo-“ he cut off with a light groan, lips falling open and head tipping back as you pressed your lips to the tip, tongue flicking out in tentative kitten licks. You locked your eyes onto his as you dragged your lips down to his base, licking a long strip up his shaft. “Oh, fuck.”

You hummed, and he shuddered as your tongue languidly traced a vein, his eyes lidded as his hand came to bury itself in your hair.

Another curse, alongside your name, fell past his lips as you wrapped your lips around his head properly this time, trying to take in as much of him as possible. It hit the back of your throat, which tightened, tears springing to your eyes.

“Oh yeah baby, just like that,” he breathed, voice shaky as you bobbed your head up and down, hips bucking needily against you as he collapsed into a few groans and murmured praises. His grip on your hair tightened. “Fuck [name] I think I’m going to cu-“

You simply hummed in response, vibrations running down his shaft and making him twitch, eyes innocent and wide-eyed, a betrayal of your lewd position.

The look alone was enough to tip him over the edge, and his fingers curled around your locks, yanking your head away from him as he shook, his cum dripping down his length. You reached for the box of tissues on the table.

After cleaning up, he looked down at you, and frowned. You tilted your head. “What?”

“You have a little…” cupping your face in both hands, he pulled it to his, tongue darting out to lick up a trickle of saliva that had escaped the corner of your mouth. It made you burn with desire, and you turned slightly to press his lips against yours.

“Good luck,” you whispered against him, and he pressed back in, teeth nipping at your lower lip.

“After I win,” he breathed, “I’m taking you on a proper date.”

You flushed. He pulled away, your chin in his hands, tilting your head up to look at him.

“And that’s a promise.”

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lokisgoodgirl · 5 months ago

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Daylight Orgy: The Rite (IV)

Masterlist for The Rite is HERE My regular Masterlist is HERE Summary: (4) You confront Loki about Fandral - and the rules of the Rite are bent to breaking point. (w/c 4.1k) Warnings: 18+ only. Minors DNI. Asgard Loki! x FReader. Smuttish (+ 3rd party smut). Jealousy. Loki being a naughty prince.

Had you been expecting Loki to follow you?

That he’d thunder down those spiral steps and throw the bronze door open? Tear across the market square half-naked and yank you by the shoulders to say, ‘Stop – that scoundrel is a lying vagabond…’ ?

Yes, obviously.

But he didn’t.

You couldn’t settle back in your chambers. Picking things up, putting them down, moving to the window - always on edge for a knock that didn’t come.

‘The pleasure of the subject is only one part of the ritual. You cannot possibly fulfil the second.’

The fuck was that supposed to mean? Loki never mentioned a second part. As far as you knew, all you had to do was lie there and let him eat you out, not contain any enthusiasm, and try not to die from overstimulation. Sure…there might be other weird shit, it was the Asgardian Royals after all – but this seemed important.

If Fandral’s telling the truth, that is.

You frown, staring at a wiry bird shifting over the rooftops. Clearly, Fandral's a shit-stirrer. Clearly, he’s jealous, Loki had said as much. You’d be pretty jealous too if you were the only person in the inner-circle Loki hadn’t fucked over the past five centuries. An unexpected wrench of envy twists your stomach.

But the prince you’d seen in the Weaving Rooms was entirely different to the one that stared down from frescos and observed his worshippers with cool disdain. A smile that lit up his eyes, the inflection of a breathless chuckle as you caught him by surprise, a faint blush that could be mistaken as humble, the hesitant lust which thrummed beneath his skin as you’d pressed to him –

‘I need to see you,’ he’d said. ‘Every day from now until then.’ Like you meant something to him, and it felt…real.

Was it really a game? Would he pull the rug at the last minute before the ceremony? It was very on brand, you’d admit. The thought sends a violent shudder up your spine.

The next morning, there’s no knock at the door from Loki’s apprentice. No letters, no nothing. Anxiety creeps to anger, and with every inch the sun moves up the sky, your feet get itchier. Does he think I’m just going to sit around and wait for him? Fucking gods. Maybe I should just tell him no – then he’ll have do the Rite with Fandral, see how that works out. Serve him right.

But then… the thought of Loki crawling on top of that smarmy, coiffured arsehole invades your brain. Shit. You shift down the corridors of the court towards the interior palace. No one looks at you today. The golden doors of the main entrance to the royal quarters loom, and you swallow, heart loud in your ears. A guard side-steps in front of you with a cock of an eyebrow as effective as a raise of his hand. “I’m here to see Prince Loki,” you say. The eyebrow cocks higher. “You know how many people try that every day?” He looks down to your feet, and back to your face with a sneer. “Most of them dress better for the occasion. Or at least bring a bribe.”

You stare at him with heat creeping up your neck. “He knows who I am.” He laughs. “I bet he does.” “He does!” “Look…” The guard cups your elbow and ushers you to the side, glancing towards his peers at the other end of the door. “I don’t want to embarrass you, love. Just do yourself a favour, and leave.”

Your eyes narrow. “I’m here to see Prince Loki,” you say again, harsher this time. “Can someone just go and tell him I’m here? He’ll be pissed if he finds out you turned me away.” The guard flinches fractionally, studying your face. Eventually he leaves, and five minutes later, he’s back. “Come on,” he says gruffly. No apology, very nice. The gold door slams and the bustle of the outer court disappears. The air is cooler in here, a strange stillness hanging like perfume. More marble carves in large arches along the corridor, open to garden running up the middle of a courtyard. Somewhere, water trickles - but you can't see it. “He’s drunk,” the guard says without looking back. “Excuse me?” “The Prince. He’s drunk, and he has company.” You frown. It isn’t even midday. Suddenly your throat feels very tight, and you feel very small. If Loki had wanted to see me, he’d have asked. He’d have sent for me. So much for being aloof and interesting. Your irritation towards Fandral blooms with new fervour: not only has he ruined your excitement; he’s ruined your hot-girl-mystery.

The guard stops abruptly and you collide into his shoulder-guards. He clears his throat, stamping a staff twice.

You roll your eyes, shuffling around him. Through an open set of doors is a room like something from the whispered tales of olden Asgard. Chiffon flutters at the windows, long plush cushions lining the floor draped with blankets that shimmer in sunlight. In the corner, some blindfolded guy is plucking at a lute. Platters of nuts, grapes, sweet cakes lie half-demolished across the floor, and twice the amount of goblets as people. And then...your jaw goes slack.

Bodies shift in the room, two dozen, at least - all moving to their own rhythm like waves rippling to shore. A woman sits perched on the windowsill; you can’t see her face, only her legs wrapped around a man’s arse as he slowly thrusts into her. Her hair shimmers like spun gold; lips stained with rich juices while she pants to the ceiling. On the cushions, a man and woman lie side-by-side, kissing languidly as two other men busy themselves between their respective thighs. People are fucking…everywhere: sets of two, three, four. Norns. You’re trying to find somewhere to set your eyes that doesn’t involve breasts, or glistening body parts, or faces twisted in pleasure that you definitely shouldn’t be witness to. And then, they land on Loki. He's looking directly at you with a lazy, dark delight. The Prince lounges across a gilded chair in the corner; one thigh hiked over the armrest and the other stretched to its full length. His boots look more obscene on him than usual, today – sprawling like that.

The laces of his shirt are undone, dark tangles of hair spread over his shoulders and pearls of sweat glistening on his collarbone. With a mildly horrifying lurch of your stomach, you notice the ties at his groin are loose, too. But he’s not got someone squirming around his cock, and that’s something, at least. His lips move, but no sound comes out. You frown as he waves a hand, beckoning you through the doors. Dangling on the precipice of a flee, you feel one foot move in front of the other – and then your face feels like its slathered in jelly: cool, wet slime sliding over your skin. You lurch out the other side of the doorway with a gasp...and then the sound hits. Moans of pleasure ring to the high ceilings: grunts, mewls, groans of names you’ve never heard as they wring pitched ecstasy from each other. Loki’s smile grows. “Just a small silencing enchantment.” He shrugs and clicks his fingers. The door slams behind you. A few pairs of eyes flicker in your direction before re-focusing on their work. You can’t blame them – you’re entirely overdressed. Picking your way across the floor, you come to a stop beside him.

This…isn’t what you’d expected. He rests his head back, half-lidded eyes clouded by whatever’s swirling in his goblet. “You realise it’s not even midday?”

An impish smile lifts Loki’s lips, a flash of tongue nipping over the bottom one. “I am a second son of the crown, famed for hedonism and the sensual pleasures…how else should I fill my days?” Your eyes rise to the couple fucking on the windowsill. “Could we talk somewhere?”

A frown ghosts his forehead, and Loki reaches for your hand. His eyes have sharpened, and he looks almost sober. “We’re all friends here, it’s just…a release. A club, if you will. We can talk here, unless you’re uncomfortable.” Your tongue pokes against your cheek. You have no right to ask this, and yet, “Have you ‘released’ today, then?” One of Loki’s brows rise, lips rippling in a closed smile. “Yes.”

That jealousy you’d been fighting settles like a stone. Loki’s eyes slide between yours, slivers of sapphire sparking beyond deep pools of black. “Although not with any interference from another,’ he adds huskily. “I’m…saving myself, it seems.” “Oh?” “Mmm. Delayed gratification is a powerful lure.”

As the hum leaves his lips, Loki shuffles on the chair: back straightening and the leg hoisted on the armrest shifting. You try not to let your gaze drop to his crotch, but it’s a moth-flame situation. He’s hard, of course. Behind you, someone orgasms.

Heat pools in your lower belly, arousal blossoming like liquid shadow, and you know for a fact if you move – there will be a slip between your thighs. You’ve never been somewhere like this – sex has always been private, quiet. Loki’s looking at you with something close to innocence. Perhaps it’s the way you know there absolutely no way you can fuck him – no way for him to touch that hot mess gathering between your folds, and no way for you to suckle the head of his cock as he tangles those long fingers in your—

“Did you hear what I said?” You clear your throat, swallowing. “Sorry, I was…somewhere else.” “Mmm,” Loki hums again, brushing a finger by his lips to stifle a smile. He lowers his thigh from the armrest and pats it: once, twice. Like a magnet, you slide onto his lap. Across the room, a woman being fucked against a pillar frowns at you over her partner’s shoulder. An arrogant thrill soaks up your spine while Loki’s nose brushes down your cheek; lips lingering on the curve of your neck, his breath gloriously cool against the heat of your skin.

“What did you want to discuss, little owl? Here, in my den of debauchery.” His fingers dance up the folds of fabric at your midsection, cupping a breast and beginning to toy at the nipple. It feels so fucking good: too good. He pinches it gently, rolling against his thumb, knowing exactly what he’s doing; you exhale against his cheek, and it makes it almost impossible to whisper, “Fandral.”

The fingers still, and you can feel Loki frowning without even having to look. “What?” he growls. It’s all you can do not to grind against his thigh. He’s wearing a tight pair of leather trousers, so at least none of the mess between your legs, probably soaking through your dress, will get on his skin. But he might touch me. He pinches your nipple, eyes narrowing. A hiss erupts from your throat, tapering to a moan. “Fandral,” you say on the exhale. “If it’s not too much trouble, desist from moaning that rube's name in my presence, darling.” You frown. “He said you’re messing with me; said you don’t have any intention of us doing the Rite together, and that he’ll be the—”

Suddenly you’re airborne, Loki’s strong hands scooping you like a bag of feathers and manoeuvring you to one of the long pillows on the floor. He looms over you on his hands and knees; one set on either side of your left leg, a wild veil of black hair hanging around his jaw. His lips part, and the impossible muscles of his shoulders shift beneath the drape of that slutty shirt. “He will not,” Loki says. “Did that cunning little mouse say he was visiting Lagertha for any other reason than to have his doublet mended?” His breath is tinged with the sweetness of primrose wine. “You are my chosen partner; he has no sway in it – and certainly no say in it.”

The gravel of his voice is bass to the continuum of groaning that sings between pillars. Desire scorches your skin, tightening your thighs and twisting your stomach so taut it might snap. Your gaze shifts fractionally to the side, catching sight of a beautiful man with bronze hair glittering like a copper coin as his cock sinks inside against another man’s ass: again, again - a hand fastening to the back of his lover’s neck. The second man moans: guttural, primal. “Do you like that?” Loki’s breath licks the shell of your ear, his hands shifting the skirts of your loose dress up your parted legs like water. The digits slide down your arms, guiding them above your head. You can’t look away: the men are poetry together. The one taking everything the other has to give grips the back of a chair, his knuckles white, his jaw trembling and cock hard at his stomach as the fingers cradling his neck tighten.

If Loki can’t ravish you, if he can’t touch your cunt which aches for his tongue – then you’ll settle for his voice. And the heat radiating from the collar of his shirt. And anyway, you’re pretty sure his voice alone will make you climax in 3…2…1— “I want to know everything,” Loki says: dark, filthy, and…honest? Your pussy clenches so hard you almost whimper. “You’ve told me about your life, but now I wish to know your desires…your deepest fantasies. I crave that knowledge like an orgasm I cannot sate.”

His husk lingers heavy over any other sound, filling your mind with strange, inadvisable, thoughts of forever. “What you like,” he hums, “what you want…how I can pleasure you beyond anything you’ve shared with another, and how I can haunt every moment your mind wanders from now until eternity.”

The god’s lips graze your pulse point, and you can feel the thump of blood beating against his skin. “So, I ask again,” he says as the figures fucking in front of you blur, “do you like that?”

A stab of air rips down your throat as you gasp, “Yes.” Norns, right now you’d let him flip you over and sink into your ass in a second.

Without warning, one of Loki’s leather clad thighs presses against your clit. Sparks explode from your centre, tendrils of utter desire rippling across your body like the drag of a lit match. Fear widens your eyes, and amusement dances in his. “Your arousal cannot touch me through these,” he says coolly, taking his time over every syllable. “My hands remain here…” Loki’s eyes dart up to his fingers encircling your wrists, and squeezes. “My sword remains sheathed, and my leathers are merely...” He presses the flat of his lower thigh against your clit again, “A tool.”

“That’s cheating,” you say breathlessly. Loki’s lip twitches in a knowing smirk, a half shrug conveying, ‘What did you expect?’ “Don’t you want to play with me?” His eyes narrow, and another lance of need spears through your core. Your lips roll together, stifling a moan as your brows draw tight. “You’re drunk,” you say. But you don’t believe it. Loki’s pupils are still wide and deep enough to drown in, but it’s not the primrose wine. Unbelievably, it’s you. For now, you decide to let yourself imagine he doesn’t just need you for the Rite; that it could be more – that he could be yours.

The weight of his attention lies heavier in the air than the aroma of sex, and his thigh grinds against your pussy; catching the spot above your clit with each, gentle tug.

“Fuck…Loki,” you whisper, back arching off the cushion. His chin rises, smouldering beneath half-lidded eyes. “Talk to me,” he breathes. You want to dig the heel of your palm against his solid cock bound beneath the crotch of his leathers. You want to feel his animal god-lust pulsing under your hand - more fuel for the violently dirty fantasies you’ll create in your head later as you writhe beneath the sheets alone.

Loki tuts, squeezing your wrists again. You offer a weak, breathy struggle. “No, little owl. Not today, not yet. I want to be destructively engorged with the sight of you…denied what I want while I hear you come undone.” “Loki,” you whine again, face hot and a hum growing in your ears. This is crazy. And yet…

Loki’s thigh moves in wicked waves against your clit; his eyes burning into yours, those thin lips parted and flushed, and ragged exhales scraping from his throat like he’s sinking inside your cunt. “Talk to me,” he says again, but this time, it’s a beg. A silky voice sounds from behind his broad shoulders, accompanied by an immaculately shaped set of nails sweeping across his collarbone. The woman who was glaring earlier. She lowers to his ear. “Can I offer you relief, my prince? Since this one cannot?”

It’s hushed, but you were meant to hear it.

Loki doesn’t even look at her; his fingers stay curled around your wrists. “No,” he says through gritted teeth. She slinks away and the flames licking up your belly burn brighter. The meat of his thigh muscle stills, and the ache of its absence makes you frott against his knee.

“Talk to me,” he commands with an air of finality, chin lowering. “Tell me what you like, what you want.” Even if he let go of your arms, that stare would pin you in place. Every inch the prince; every inch the god – even in the middle of a daylight orgy.

“I want your mouth on me,” you whisper; squirming beneath his mischievous smirk. “I want it…slow, then heavier…then slower.” “Slow?” Loki hums, titling his head. That tongue darts over his lips. “And firm, but…soft. Wet. And loud…I want to hear you taste me.” Gods’ bones, has anyone ever been this ineloquent? But Loki doesn’t seem to mind. His face tells you he knows exactly what you mean; exactly how you like it. He’s imagining it, just as you are.

Your eyes dart to his crotch and the thick outline of his manhood strains against heavy creases. His hips shift, a small hiss filling the air between you. “What else?” he asks in a breathless voice that’s so unlike him. You bite your lip as his stare falls down your chest - flimsy drapes of silk threatening to expose your breasts. You wonder if he’ll let go of your wrists. And if he can control himself if he does. “And I want your cock, too…obviously.” “Obviously…” he goads with the spectre of a smile. The god leans forward, nudging the silk aside with his nose and capturing a nipple with a firm suck. Loki’s thigh begins to shift against your pussy again, and a strangled moan rattles in your throat. The groans of the men fucking a few meters away reach crescendo and they tumble over the edge in a sweaty, groaning slip of sex.

“I want you everywhere,” you gasp, losing any shred of remaining modesty with the smear of your heat against his leathers. “My cunt, my mouth, my ass—” “—Like them?” he stammers, thick brows drawn together. “—Like them. I want you so deep inside me I forget my own name, want your skin smacking my shoulders, want you pulling me onto your cock as you fuck me like I’m in heat and you can’t control it—” “—More,” Loki gasps, and your eyes fly open. His face is twisted with furious need, lines deep in his forehead, strands of onyx hair buffeting at his lips. His thigh slips against your slit – it’s absolutely soaked, and his hands tremble where he’s holding you in place. The words that shape your lips are calculated in their depravity: aimed to kill. “I want your cum dripping between my thighs; dripping between my breasts…” At that, Loki groans. “I’ll lick it off myself…before I suck you clean, and swallow everything you have left…my prince.” Loki’s jaw slackens like the orgasm shattering him is an unseen foe with a knife to his neck. The jolt in his hips sends the thick thigh driving against your clit and you crumble right alongside him with a garbled cry of his name. He falls on top of you in a mess of ferocious need; lips working, breath gasping from your lungs and the beat of his heart strong against your ribs. But still, his hands don’t leave your wrists.

“You are a wonder,” he breathes, galaxies swimming in his pleasure-drunk stare. And for a moment, you forget that you’re a means to an end; that after the Rite you’ll go back to being a nobody - and you believe him.

Loki barely has his wits back when someone clears their throat at the door. “Your brother - Prince Loki.” “My what?” “Your brother, the crown prince. He’s outside.” “Nine hels. What does he want?” Loki didn’t wait for the man to respond – he’d save the wretch that particular misery, and Loki’s misery at having to listen to the bluster of his explanation. He dips to your cheek, drawing his nose down the line of your cheekbone, inhaling against your sweat-damp skin. “I’ll return shortly,” he whispers. And below him, you shiver. A thrill spreads in sharp veins under his flesh. Loki strides past the guard looking at the ceiling while his cheeks flush an alarming shade of scarlet – and the door shuts quickly behind them. Thor stands with his arms folded, one ill-groomed eyebrow rising as he says, “Are the reports true? That your Rite partner is in there?” Loki can’t contain the eye-roll. “If you think I’m so foolish as to compromise myself at the eleventh hour before my ascension to the royal line; then truly there is no hope for you, brother. And she has a name, you know.” Thor’s gaze drops sceptically to his thigh. “What’s that?” He gestures to the glistening slick down one of the leather-clad quad muscles. Norns. “It’s not breaking the rules, I checked.”

With a flick of his fingers, the slick evaporates. And even though he’s sure (almost, sure), Loki rubs his fingertips together. Nothing. He breathes a secret sigh of relief. It would just be like Thor to ruin everything without actually intending to. “Of course you did, Loki. How studious of you.” “Can you spell that?” He snorts. “Besides, your partner was Lady Sif – you had centuries to cultivate the bond. And father and mother were partners…it’s a completely different situation. I must do what I must within the confines of the ceremonial rules.” “And whose fault is that, Loki? You could’ve had your pick of partners had you not rutted through them in a jamboree of wine and carnal gluttony.” Loki’s lip twitches, and he sucks the bottom one between his teeth. “I couldn’t have selected better if I’d had the centuries to spare, actually. Not all of us need hundreds of years to woo someone.”

The bemused crunch of Thor’s brow makes a flutter of satisfaction blossom in his chest. “I assure you, brother – all aspects of the Rite of Successional Pleasure will be fulfilled, I’m sure of it.” Thor's eyes narrow. “She’s been told of the second requirement?” “No, but I believe doing so will make it unnecessarily…challenging. She doesn’t need to know, she only needs to feel.” “You realise her feelings for you must come willingly. Un-influenced by magic?”

Loki glares, spine stiffening. “I shan't need to use my powers to wring pleasure from her body, why should I require it of her heart? Is that so hard to believe?” “In such a short amount of time? Yes, brother. I’ve known you over a millennia, and most days I still don’t care for you.” Loki’s fist flexes at his side as Thor, regrettably, continues. “The Rite is an expression of our benevolence to bestow pleasure on another freely, but it is also a test of our means to win their affections; their loyalty.” “And I will not fail,” he snaps. He and Thor stare at each other, unblinking, until his brother breaks first with a long, whittling sigh. “I hope you’re right, brother,” he says. “And be more careful, it would be unfortunate if you were to be undone by your own…passions, as usual.”

Heat prickles beneath Loki’s skin. “What would you know of my passions? Thor’s cape flutters as he turns, before glancing over his shoulder: ignoring him. “As much as it pains me, choosing Fandral as your partner for the Rite may be the wiser choice…it’s not too late. You know he already harbours those feelings for you – the deep ones the ritual requires. If there is any doubt, brother—”

“—There is no doubt,” Loki lies, fingernails digging in to the soft flesh of his palm. “I still have two moons until the ceremony– wars have been won in less.” He keeps his expression flat as Thor’s eyes soften. “If only love was as simple as war, brother,” he says in one of those rare displays of wisdom that make Loki want to punch him in the face. “She’s not one of us. I would say try not to break her heart, but it’s inevitable, is it not.” It isn’t a question. Loki swallows as his brother’s footsteps fade, glancing back to the golden door. He waves his hand, releasing the enchantment muffling the guard’s ears.

“Get her out of there,” he murmurs. “Escort her, offer my apologies; instruct her to change, and meet me in the gardens at sunrise.” "My prince, she will ask—" "—Sunrise," he snaps. A pain throbs behind his eyes.

The guard nods, and Loki tries to ignore the pulse of his heartbeat in his throat, and the unfamiliar itch of guilt spreading with every echoing thud of his boots around Asgard’s gilded halls.

Next Chapter: Illusion & Truth The Masterlist for The Rite is HERE Comments in tags ❤️ Plz be silly with me 🍰🥳

#the rite🕯️#loki x reader #loki smut #loki x female reader #loki x you #loki x reader smut #loki x you smut #loki x female reader smut #loki imagine #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki #loki marvel #loki x yn

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hawkinsbnbg · 6 months ago

Text

Four years after everything ended, Steve and Eddie ran into each other by chance.

In 1990, when Steve stumbled upon Eddie in a coffee shop in Chicago of all places, he didn't expect to end up on his back that night with the other man pounding him into the mattress.

At some point, he was too cock-drunk to care about his dignity so he kept begging Eddie to come inside him.

"What if I knock you up, babygirl?" Eddie nipped at his chin teasingly.

In response, Steve only clenched around the thick cock tighter, earning a guttural groan from the other man.

He bit his lip and smiled sweetly, "Guess you're gonna be a daddy 'cause m'not on birth control right now."

Eddie just cursed under his breath and pulled out to take off the condom. When he slid into Steve again, they both let out a strangled moan.

In the end, Steve had been railed into oblivion with a stomach full of hot cum.

A week later, Eddie sought him out again, wanting to continue their breeding process.

"It's for science," Eddie murmured as he bottomed out inside Steve.

"Yeah," Steve snorted, breathless and a little bit cross-eyed because of how big the other man was. "How noble of you."

"Thank you, sweetheart," Eddie grinned, eyes crinkled warmly. “Think it’s gonna catch this time?”

“Dunno,” Steve wrapped his legs around the resilient waist as the other man started moving, grazing his sweet spots effortlessly. “But we should keep trying until we succeed.”

“You’re right,” Eddie leaned down and kissed him soundly. “Fuck, you’re always right, sweetheart.”

“Thanks, uh–” Steve mewled and rolled his eyes back when Eddie nailed his prostate. “I– I tried my best.”

“My good girl,” Eddie kissed him again but it was messy and sloppy. “So smart, so pretty. Bet you’re already thinking about our children’s education, hm?”

“Y– Yeah,” Steve nodded blindly, jaw hanging open so Eddie’s tongue could fuck his mouth.

At this point, he didn't know what he was even talking about anymore. He just babbled nonsense and drooled at the mindless pleasure that coursed through him incessantly.

Above him, Eddie kept going on and on about how they were going to make a happy family, how he was going to be a great mom, how Eddie was going to be the kind of dad who would spoil their children rotten.

And yeah, Steve found himself very into the idea. Not only the hypothetical pregnancy part but also the part where he and Eddie built a home together.

“Be mine, sweetheart,” Eddie whispered between the kisses, desperate and pleading. “Gonna treat you right, gonna be a good husband for you, gonna make you breakfast, gonna help you pick the lawn, gonna sing ABBA songs with you, gonna do the dishes for you, gonna give you my everything, gonna–”

“Shut up, I’ll be yours,” Steve clung to the other man and sobbed. “All yours, Eddie. All yours.”

It was a long time coming, an overdue confession that neither of them had been brave enough to tell each other.

But now, now when their family and friends and the fucking world were finally safe, they had nothing to fear anymore.

They were as free and in love as they could ever be.

And when Eddie’s lips met his own in a tender kiss, it felt like coming home.

A quick stroke on his neglected cock was enough to tip Steve over, prompting a high-pitched moan from him and sending sparks flying in his blurry vision.

Eddie followed after him immediately, burying inside him to the hilt and filling him up with a deep groan.

After a few seconds, Eddie pulled out carefully and drew him in a lazy kiss before collapsing beside him.

For a moment, they just lied there to recollect their wits.

“You meant it?” Steve asked quietly once they both calmed down, afraid that it was just sex-addled talk.

“Everything,” Eddie propped up on his elbow to look at him seriously. “I’ve never loved anyone the way I do you, baby.”

“Me too,” Steve smiled softly. “Been waiting for you, Eds.”

“I’m honored, sweetheart,” Eddie gave him a warm smiled.

Then they moved away from the wet spot to cuddle.

Later, they would have to get up to take a thorough shower, and maybe order something to eat if the mood struck.

But for now, Steve was content to doze off in his boyfriend’s loving arms.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #soft boys in love #mutual pining #it’s kinda funny that the final nudge for steve and eddie to admit their feelings to each other is their massive breeding kink lmao #sionewritesatmidnight

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loveshotzz · 1 year ago

Note

{ trying } a new position with them

I have this in my mind with AIRWIY!Steve, ‘cause I know he’s so soft during sex and you do it in missionary or you ride him, but then you ask him if he will take you from behind (feel free to change) and be a little rough🥹

Hi angel! thank you for your request 💗 I hope you enjoy. This is a request is from my All I Really Want Is You series but can be read as a stand alone.

older!steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ established relationship, smut, dirty talk, cream pie, age gap.

wc: 1.3k

authors note: for those that read the series this takes place during the gap between chapter ten and the epilogue. the relationship is still new and they are trying new things 🧡

Something felt different about tonight.

You think it might’ve been the fancy cocktails that were stronger than normal, and the dim lighting of The Violet Hour that danced across Steve’s sharp features. Or his big hand that stayed high on your thigh through the entirety of dinner. Salt and pepper scruff tickling your cheek every time he leaned in to whisper low in your ear.

Maybe it was the lemon zest still fresh on his tongue when he licked into your mouth at the end of your date pressing you against your front door. Whatever it was Steve Harrington made your body feel like it was on fire tonight, embers burning in the pit of your stomach waiting to combust with every touch.

The roll of his hips only stokes the flames when he’s buried to the hilt inside of you after barely making it to your bed, leaving a trail of clothes in your wake. His full weight keeps you pressed into the mattress, with your knee hooked over the crook of his elbow. The tip of him hitting the spot that makes your back arch with every slow stroke over and over again, but god, it wasn’t enough. You needed more.

That loose strand falls damp across his forehead, a bead of sweat dangerously close to falling off the end. His eyes never leave yours, the black of his pupils making the gold and moss colored flecks disappear. Lips brushing with every thrust, the whiskey on his breath mingles with the pineapple on yours, while your nails dig half crescent moons into the constellations on his back.

He shifts hitting a different spot when he drives back in, and it makes your jaw go slack. Steve takes advantage, tracing your top lip with his tongue while the tip of his nose bumps into yours. He starts a slow grind instead of pulling out, the dark thatch of hair that frames the part of him hugged tight by your walls rubs against your clit in a way that has his name sound like a prayer. But it still wasn’t enough. Not even when your hands make their way down, fingers digging into the soft dough of his ass to try and coax him even deeper.

“Fuck - honey,” He grunts, pushing in as far as he can, eyes rolling in the back of his head when you nip at his bottom lip, recently discovering how much he liked it when you did that.

“I need - “ You start but a quick snap of his hips steals the breath out of your lungs for a second.

“What do you need?” His brows furrow when you flutter around him, watching the way your eyes glaze over when he hits that spot again, “tell me, I’ll give it to you, I’ll give you whatever you want.”

“I - I want- I want you to fuck me from behind.” The words make the grind of his hips falter, the black of his eyes turning into an abyss.

“Yeah?” Steve sounds breathless when he finally comes back to his body.

Biting your bottom lip between your teeth, all you can do is nod, a shy smile playing at the corners of your mouth despite feeling the twitch of him inside of you. He rolls his hips again, something smug flickering in his eyes when he sees the way it makes your face crumble.

“Whatever you want, pretty girl.” He rubs the tip of his nose with yours before he starts to slowly pull out. Cursing under his breath, the feeling of your walls trying to suck him back in is almost enough for him to cum.

You shudder at the feeling of being so empty when he sits back on his haunches, long fingers wrapping around his cock, stroking himself as he watches you get on all fours for him. He’s never seen you presented to him like this, and he almost cums again in the span of a minute.

“Jesus Christ, look at you.” He sounds wrecked when he talks, and when you peek over your shoulder at him, he looks it too.

Wiggling your hips, his free hand finds the soft fat of your ass, while his strokes with his other get quicker. He squeezes at the dough of it, groaning when he sees the way you’re dripping down your thighs. The precum that leaks from his fat tip mixes with your slick as he drags himself through your folds, a lewd squelching noise filling your room when he does it over and over again.

“Steve - fuck - please, please.” Your fingers tangle into your sheets, pushing your hips back into his for more when he adds pressure to your bundle of nerves before catching at your entrance.

“Shhh, It’s okay, I got you, I got you.” He coos when the tip of him breaches your walls, both hands finding the curve of your hips. “Gonna take all of me like the tough girl you are, aren’t you baby?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah” Too cock drunk not to babble when he pushes half way in, the lingering effects of the drinks you had at dinner has your body ignited. You’ve never felt so full and it’s not even all of him.

“God, you’re so wet. Always so wet for me.” He groans with one final roll of his hips, burying himself as far as he can go, the stretch making you keen the heat inside your belly turning white.

He doesn’t move, letting your body adjust to the length of him like this, fingers digging into the soft skin of your sides hard enough to bruise. Your walls won’t stop clenching and it makes him twitch. He leans over earning him a soft ‘oh’ from you at the feel of him somehow pushing deeper, warm lips trailing kisses up your spine, leaving more over the hard plain of your shoulder blade before stopping at the shell of your ear.

“You ready honey?”

He can’t see the way the deep baritone makes your eyes hit the back of your head, and all you can do is nod. He gives a smug kind of chuckle that you’ve never heard before, pulling himself back up. His hands squeeze at you one more time, a low breath escaping through his nose while he takes in the sight in front of him.

“Ste-“ His name dies on your tongue when he pulls almost all the way out, before a rough snap of his hips pushes him all the way back in. “Oh my god!’

Steve’s never heard you make sounds like this for him before and he thinks he might lose his mind, something primal unlocking deep inside his brain. The softness he’s always treated you with is replaced by the animalistic need to fill you to the brim. The springs of your mattress squeak loudly under his knees, the head board he helped you set up after a trip to Ikea smacking against your wall with every harsh thrust.

“Gonna make you mine, yeah? You want that?” He doesn’t sound like the man who leaves you silly notes with all his gifts, his voice is rough just like his touch. The hair on his thighs rubbing against the wet backs of yours.

“Please, yeah, it’s all - fuck, fuck, yeah it’s all I want Steve, please.” You're babbling now too close to worry about how you sound with your cheek pressed to the mattress as he holds your hips up. The grip on your sheets is tight enough to pull them off the corners of your bed, and the fire that's threatened to consume you finally does when the tip of him hits a spot he’s never found before. “Oh god, i‘m gonna - Steve! -i’mgonnacum!”

He keeps his unrelenting pace watching the way your eyes screw shut, and your jaw go slack. A shudder rolling through your body, toes curling while your walls milk him with the strength of your orgasm.

“Oh fuck - honey.” Steve’s loud when he paints your insides white, the warmth of him filling you up until it drips down your thighs is enough to make you moan with him at the feel of it, aftershocks running though your fingertips that grasp at anything.

The blunt ends of his nails dig into your hips, his body staying ridgid as he tries to get a grip. Yours is limp in his hands, eyes slowly blinking while everything comes back into focus. When he finally regains enough brain power, he leans forward again, trailing lazy wet kisses up your spine that make the corners of your lips twitch before he stops at your ear.

“So we’re absolutely going to get drinks there again.”

#my writing #all i really want is you #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington fanfiction #older!steve harrington

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emeritusemeritus · 23 days ago

Text

You Know What You’ll Get [Fred Weasley x Reader]

Title: You know what you’ll get.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader {Established relationship}

Timeline: Anytime after OOTP, Fred lives. No war.

Summary: Absolutely no plot, just breeding kink Fred.

Warnings: SMUT. PinV sex. Breeding kink. Mentions of other kinks jokingly. No kink shaming here. Playful sex. Swearing, banter. Mentions of pregnancy. Embarrassed Fred is fun to write.

Word count: 773.

Just a good old smutty breeding kink drabble with Freddie, as we all deserve 🖤

You'd been out of your mind with arousal all day, your legs pressing together with each and every thought of Fred as you tried to get through your working day. When you arrived home early and found him still working away at the shop with at least another hour until close, you knew you were being tortured.

He was dressed in your favourite suit, the brown with the coloured pinstripes- except that he wasn't wearing his blazer, just those tough fitting trousers that seemed to highlight all of his best assets. Your mouth ran dry and watered at the same time when you saw that his shirt sleeves were rolled up to the elbows and his tie had been loosened around his neck. You hurried upstairs to the apartment feeling like you were going to spontaneously combust at any second and impatiently awaited his arrival once he'd finished work.

George, beautiful George, had noticed you arriving home and had informed Fred that you seemed a little 'off' in his own words, prompting George to take over so that Fred could come upstairs and comfort you. It may not have been exactly what George had in mind, but Fred sure did comfort you in your time of need merely minutes later when you'd dragged him into the bedroom.

"Oh Freddie!" You cry out, feeling him hit that wondrous spot over and over again, your legs thrown over his shoulders as he pounds into you relentlessly, forehead glistening with sweat and cheeks flushed.

"You're so big!"

He falters for a moment upon hearing your words, hips stuttering out of sync as he grunts, trying to recover. You know you're pushing your luck for a spank when his eyes tightly squeeze shut, mouth opening into a little 'o' before he recovers, pushing himself back from the edge.

"Stop it or you know what you'll be getting," he warns with a dominant tone, a harsh thrust accentuating his point.

"Pregnant?"

He cums within seconds, hips faltering completely as he pounds into you with as much force as he can, holding you tightly to him, balls pressed against your slit as he shoves his complete length in you as he cums. His cock throbs within you and within second you are filled with blistering hot cum that seems never ending, his growl of ecstasy only increasing your pleasure. The force of his thrusts, the sounds he was making and the sheer ecstasy on his face is enough to catapult you to your own climax and you cling onto him in anyway you can as your pussy clenches around him.

"Merlin," he pants, sounding completely breathless as he climbs off you, allowing your legs to drop down and rest. You roll over onto your stomach, pressing your head into the pillow as you attempt to regain your own breath. His hand comes down into your bare ass with a defeating crack that seems to echo around your shared bedroom, a delicious punishment for the stunt you just pulled. There's no malice in it and you know for a fact that he was most probably smiling as he did so. You giggle, face shoved into the pillow as you feel the bed dip beside you, a big hand slipping over your naked back as he climbs in, cuddling around you. He pulls the duvet up over your lower half and rests beside you as you turn your head to look at him, seeing the smirk you'd guessed.

"So I think we just discovered something about you Frederick," you giggle, a squeal falling from your lips as he attacks your bare sides with his fingers, reaching out to tickle you.

"Shut up," he says playfully, slightly defensive as a brilliant pink blushes crosses his freckled cheeks.

"Wanna try mommy kink next time?" You jest, already knowing how he'll react to your mock- suggestion.

"Godric no." He instinctively scrunches up his face in disgust at the very notion, sickened by the thought.

"So it's just picturing me as a mum that gets you going?"

This earns you another harsh tickle and a loud grumble from the man beside you who shoves his face into your neck with embarrassment as you giggle. You drop it for now, having had your fun and throw yourself around him wanting a cuddle, which he graciously accepts. Thoughts of making dinner cross your mind but you quickly swipe them away, content to just lie there for a while with Fred.

#emeritusemeritus #emeritusemerituswrites #harry potter #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley masterlist #fred weasley smut

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kisakis-boyfriend · 1 month ago

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Kinktober Day 18: CBT

Author's Note: Thank you, Souya anon, for forever altering my brain with your thirst. I haven't been able to stop thinking about bullying Hakkai since you sent that 🥴

Pairings: Hakkai x male reader

Warnings: Mean dom male!reader, sub!Hakkai, CBT, bullying kink, degradation, Reader is supposed to be a rival gang leader/captain

Prompt credit: wylerkinktober 🧡

“I thought you were s'posed to be tough. Or are ya all bark and no bite?” you taunt, shifting more weight forward to your foot as it presses against the man's crotch. You've never seen someone more pathetic than him. A single tear streams down his face, and you can't entirely stifle your laugh as you watch him.

“Tell me,” you begin again, “what exactly are my men so scared of?” Hakkai inhales sharply when you twist your foot, grinding your boot against his semi-hard dick. Another tear threatens to spill, and it takes all of his willpower to prevent that from happening. “–because all I see is a crybaby who can't even handle one man all by himself.” you spit. Another twist sends him into a fit of whimpers and cries, struggling to stay propped up on his elbows.

You step off of him, standing tall while you watch his shaky form curl in on itself. A chuckle erupts from your throat, but it dies just as quickly as your eyes land on the stained patch on his pants.

“Ew, are you turned on right now? Seriously?” you say in disbelief, covering your mouth in an exaggerated display. You're basically pointing and laughing at him, and Hakkai feels his cock grow even harder, swelling in his pants from the shame.

As you eyeball his bulge, an idea crosses your mind– a rather devilish idea, at that.

“Take 'em off.”

“Wh- what?”

“Take 'em off, crybaby. Show me what you're packin'.” Hakkai's eyes widen when he realizes what you're asking. He refuses at first, but when you threaten to rip his clothes off yourself, he decides it's better to just do as he's told.

Goddamn, you think to yourself, he's bigger than he looks… It's hard not to stare when the guy you're bullying is secretly packing seven inches of dick underneath his clothing. Well, all the more dick for you to toy with.

“Keep your legs open, yeah, just like that.” you order, once again placing your boot on Hakkai's cock. The pressure is already making him bite his lip, and you haven't even done anything really. Just a little pressure on his shaft, a little grinding down here and there, and the pretty man below keens, gripping the pavement underneath his hands until his fingertips become bloody.

His voice is shaky, breathless as he begs, “O-oh-ok! Hah… you win! J-just stop already!”

“Why? We're havin' so much fun, Shiba.” you lift your foot away slightly and there are strings of precum sticking to the underside. “Ugh, you're havin' a little too much fun… but if it feels that good, hump it.”

Hakkai blubbers in confusion. His cheeks flush quickly as you stare at each other. “Hump my shoe, dumbass. Don't pretend like you weren't thinking about it earlier.” after your foot is back on his cock, Hakkai gulps, moving his hips cautiously at first. The ridges on the bottom of your boot do feel good against his dick… and when you press down harder, he curses and a cold sweat washes over him as he nearly cums right then and there.

You can't lie, this whole power trip is getting you excited too. You're sure that he notices the tent growing in your pants as well, since he keeps glancing at it. You rub yourself through your clothes while continuing to torture poor Hakkai, and he watches you intently. His eyes are glued to your foot pressing down on his leaky tip, then glued to the outline of your cock as it swells.

“Mmm… you wanna cum, right, big boy?” you drawl. Hakkai doesn't answer at first, too focused on the sticky mess he's creating on the underside of your boot. But he snaps out of it once you shout to get his attention. “Look at me. Do you wanna cum or not?”

His breathless 'yes' made your stomach flip. It was so honest that you stopped moving for a second just to process Hakkai's response. Here he was, literally underneath another gang member's boot, and when asked if he wanted to experience an orgasm after they bullied him… he didn't even hesitate to say yes. You gotta hand it to him; he wears his heart on his sleeve.

“Well shit, alright. But only when I say so, yeah? If you can't follow simple instructions, I'll beat your ass, got it?”

“G-got it…”

With that, you began moving your boot up and down his cock, pulling slutty moans from him the whole time. There's precum trickling down his thighs. Sliding down to his hole, no doubt. Hakkai is throwing his head back, concentrating on holding it in until you say the magic word. Thank god you pulled him into this back alley… you have all the privacy you need to humiliate the Toman member without getting caught.

As he inches closer to his orgasm, you suddenly stop. Hakkai gasps and begins to question you, but clams up as soon as you crouch in front of him and push him fully on his back.

“Just tell me when you're really close, ok?” you say in a tone that causes Hakkai to shiver. He's sure you're up to something, he just doesn't know what yet… until you grab him by the balls and start hitting them. It's not hard enough to hurt hurt. If anything, the pain actually enhances this experience.

The way Hakkai's voice goes up and down—he sounds adorably pathetic, and you even slap his dick around just to see what other sounds you can get him to make. Your little musical instrument.

“Gnngh-! AaaAAaaAAAhhHh!! Mmmclose! Haah-! ” his voice trembles. Hakkai can feel his heartbeat in his dick, pounding away in his ears as well—all while his tormentor grins sadistically down at him. This large shadow looms overhead as you straighten up again, stepping on his cock and ordering him to rut against you until he cums.

Of course, you don't make him do all of the work. You're generous enough to move your foot back and forth in small yet quick motions. “Ooh, I can see it dripping everywhere. I can't believe you're really gonna jizz all over another man's shoe. Don't you have any shame?” His head shakes; whether he means to say yes or no, you can't quite tell… you reckon his head is too fuzzy to grasp anything you say at the moment.

“No? Aw, you're a keeper. Maybe we'll do this again sometime.” As you tease him a little more, you catch the spurts of white spilling down his shaft. Hakkai's voice cracks as a powerful orgasm travels through his body—leaving him a shaking, crying mess.

His eyes close soon after, and when Hakkai comes to, the only thing he sees are the buildings stretching up towards the sky. Not a trace of his bully in sight.

#my writing #kinktober #kinktober 2024 #hakkai shiba #hakkai smut #hakkai x male reader #hakkai x reader #sub hakkai #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo rev smut #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev x male reader #male reader #dom reader #dom male reader #sub male character

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mooshs-crack-headcanons · 10 months ago

Note

Hey how are ya doing? Would you write how the DMC guys (Dante, Vergil, and Nero.. V if you wanna) react to their s/o smacking their butt? Does it lead to sexy fun time? 😏 It is at any time or only in private? Is it playful or heavy handed. 🥵💦 As always if you don't feel comfortable with it don't worry about it. Have a great day Rockstar!

Hello, I've been good lately sorry this request took so long but thank you for asking it's a pleasure to see you again in my inbox!

(This work includes gender neutral!reader)

(NSFW contents under the cut)

Dante

It does take Dante surprise at first; your hand stealthily coming across to give his ass a hard slap while he was bent over the bar at the back of his shop to grab one of the more expensive bottles to celebrate a relatively hard job well done one day. Usually it's always him dealing out the teasing but when that sudden yelp buckles out of his throat and he looks at you to see you only smug with that cocky grin it definitely rattles something in him and what it rattles goes straight to his dick. He just sure hopes that you can finish this little game you started.

Next when he catches you off guard your standing at the desk on the phone with Lady, going over the details of your up coming job that would take you out of town for a few days together, elbow propped so you can rest your head on your plam while your eyes search the letter the client gave and more importantly to a certain scheming son of Sparda; your ass free and out in the open, unexpected. All he has to do is trick over for payback to resume; the sudden strike causing an embarrassing noise from you that you can just hear Lady on the other line silently question but then seemingly figuring put it's some dumb Dante's doing before continuing on asking more details of the job. Heat swells in your face as you look back at Dante who returns your intial smugness and shit eating grin, making it very clear that he's playing your game - a game you were intending to win.

Back and forth you two go; at the most unexpected points surprising each other with sudden spanks to get that interesting shades of cheeks and noises from once another just to see which one would break first; to see who couldn't take this teasing game anymore and just beg to be thrown and be used by the other.

Interestingly it's Dante to break first.

He's the one almost in fucking tears as he runts and grinds against you to the desk; cock so deep inside you he can barely keep his head on straight. His moans are so low yet so desperate as you thrust back into him your hole squeezing ever so tightly, controlling his pace, the sound of your name leaving his lips is so fucking attractive it's stupid.

And to put salt on the wound of his loss; reach around and give him one more slap that will instantly flip on a switch. Whatever pace you had? Forget it. He fights through and jackhammers even faster and harder to a point it shatters a crack somewhere on the wooden surface below you. I hope you like losing function of your voice because that's exactly how it's going to be the moment pulls out and he finishes on your stomach, leaving you breathless and reeling from all your previous highs.

When your done with after care and such and Dante places you on a bed instead of a desk, he congratulates you (sportsmanship and all, you know?) in between breathy kisses and only a few times jokingly complains about his ass hurting that you 'won too hard' and that you should 'take it easy during the rematch.'

Rematch? That word catches your interest that you can't help but question him on; it gets you a chuckle and a conniving look behind pale eyes.

"Yeah, a rematch. Though do be warned: I do got an ace up my sleeve that I don't think I'll be loosing with this time. What that be? Eh, you'll just have to find out what that'll be yourself - won't you?"

Vergil

One of two different outcomes will happen if you so happen to catch Vergil off guard with this action either depending on your surroundings. One; your in privacy and no one's around to see the light flush that spreads across his cheeks up to his ears and the surprised gasp that leaves his lips - then he'll only turn around to you and stumble through a light scolding that he could have accidentally hurt you with Yamato or worse but dropping the matter and it slowly becoming the topic of his late night thoughts about the sudden touch and the spark in him that it caused. Or two, the foolish but more slow but direct to go horny option; do it while the crew (especially his brother or Nero) is around.

Now going with the second option be fully aware that he's not going to talk to you for a few days after it, the foolishness of the act leaving him unable to talk to you (Vergil translation; he's just embarrassed and doesn't know how to directly approach you about it right away) But when he does it it's surely a surprise exactly what he does when he comes back around.

He is absolutely rough with you when he yanks your hair back in a fistful and in his smooth voice ask if you could ever so kindly repeat your words more clearly as his other hand snaps down onto your ass with that mind numbing sting as you repeat the number through bitten lips.

Yup, payback is a real charmer.

All the while he thrusts into you so deep you can even comprehend how the hell numbers work any more as you try to focus yourself but struggle to keep up with how pleasure just seeps into your whole being with each bounce to your sweet spot that's only lit a blaze with every smack of your lover's hand.

It's definitely intense; with all of his teeth marks tattooing the skin of your neck as the symphony that his Vergil's moans and growls pressed right against your ear as he takes you. And all of this just because what? You playfully spanked him in the van? Definitely were going to have to keep this one in the play book.

You can barely move any of your limbs with you're both done. Vergil holds your fucked out body in a possessive yet soft embrace as he deeply buries his face into your neck. It's nice, very nice. Though if you try to tease him in any way he'll look back up with you with a glare - but not just any glare; one where he tries his best to seem intimidating but fails and falls right through when you can clearly see with his flushed face and frown that he's just embarrassed. It's very cute, although if you're way past your limit I would advise not teasing any further. Because who knows; you might find your legs to be quickly spread apart for a fairly intense round two.

Nero

His reaction will be immediate. His face will turn completely red all the way to his ears as he turns to face you not even able to form any words - just turned on gibberish. His reaction is something you can't help find your giggling because of how red he can be to just playful teasing but unknownst to you, you just awakened a kink and it's something that keeps his dick hard and awake at night for weeks afterwards.

It becomes something he fixates on; the thought, the memory, the sudden spark of pain that twists into pleasure is just...the need and desire for you to do it again becomes to much for him. Well with Nero being Nero and his insecurities to really ask for things because he feels he can be a burden at times to deal with and his abandonment issues starts talking telling him he doesn't deserve it - if he asks for too much you'll leave him, so he doesn't tell you this new desire of his. He just keeps it to himself, just a fantasy he can get himself off too when he's alone but there becomes a point where it just swells in his chest to much and he just succumbs to it.

The laundry room in Kyrie's apartment is rather a tight fit, but that doesn't matter any once you find yourself shoved inside there and your lips smothered in kisses and moans against you as your pushed back onto the dryer.

Bites litter his flesh a bright flushed pink as you tug and pull on the abused skin as you hands work him all over, massaging and tracing over every muscle with your ears listening to the sweet music his shaky breaths let out. In a teasing sing song way you get right up in his ear as your hands travel in that certain direction. What does he want? Is the basics of the things you ask him over and over seeing every little part of his self control start to break as he bites his tongue. His cock is hard and leaking as he bucks against your sex, throbbing as he grinds into the meat of your thighs, his breath comes through in hissing gritted teeth as your fingers trail down his back to the the danger zone of his ass with small taps - his face bright red seconds before he breaks.

Spanking + praise kink = loud. Very loud. The moment he's in you, he's in to the base and the fucking moment your hand comes to clash back down this man is jack hammering into you like crazy and it will get to a point where you will absolutely have to gag him in some way before the neighbors start poking their superstitious noses into it.

Once after the first time where he's comfortable (less embarrassed) to talk about it he'll open up to you about really liking you doing this to him and encourage you in the future to go even rougher, after all with demon Sparda genes even if he's only quarter he still has at least a bit of healing factor ((grew a whole arm back)) so however hard you give him nothing you can while being human will hurt him but it's the thought and feel good sting that counts!

Although V may be fragile given obvious reasons, don't let that fool you. The man at the end of the day is still a part of Vergil, meaning deep down - even if his former self would rather deny, deny, and deny on the spot than admit it out loud - is a total freak when it comes to kinky shit. Yes given how flaky and easy his body could just break apart he can't go too hard that his complete counterpart can, however, he can assure you he can take a little bit so spanking shouldn't be too much should it?

It does surprise him when you come out of the blue with it though, both alone in the van while waiting for for Nero to return from his part of the job and Nico to return from repairs on the front of the van, all he did was bend over a bit to grab a drink from the small cooler when a subtle tap hit him on the ass - nothing too hard, just a tease, but it did spark his eyes wide and make him drop the green can of Virility he was holding.

When he turns around to look at you, still bent over, there's a dirty - yet subtle - sly smirk across his plump lips and with his velvety voice he reminds you:

"If you wanted my attention all you need do is ask. Or is it being a little deviant that alluring to you? I'll have to keep that in mind."

Will drop things in front of you more. After all, he's a "-fragile, delicate thing who can't keep things steady sometimes in his hands. Oops I dropped I dropped my cane, silly me." And when he goes to pick up said item he'll always over-exaggerate pick it up - he knows he doesn't have the most shapely ass in the world - his true self doesn't either - but you like looking and feeling down there so that's good enough for him to put on quite the act for your eyes to wonder and maybe you'll gather enough courage to reach out and touch him again. And you can absolutely bet if Griffon's out of his tattooed binds you will get very lovely, crassliy worded commentary, teasing, and the occasional exaggerated gag from the bird.

Once the 'games' are finally over V loves the sensation of being draped naked over your lap - no matter how big or smaller you are compared to him - he'll get comfortable either with a pillow on the bed or on the armrest of the chair you're in as you pamper him with grounded soft touches all along his body, tracing around inky tattoos, until you cup the cheeks of his ass. He'll hum and moan in approval at the touches, his breath with hitch if with a couple coated fingers you start fingering his hole and with audibly complain with shaky breath when you slip out of him. But everything will change with that first spark of contact on his ass.

V - like Vergil - isn't a man who curses very often. This will make him do so. A lot. In between spiked punched out breaths and groans that further you go will turn into whines as he looses himself in the spanks, pleasured tears creeping in the corners of his eyes as you tell him to count that he turns into a complete mess on your lap.

He loves it, really, more than he actually originally thought - at first going along with it because it was obviously something you were into and wanted and he wants nothing but to enable your desires but now... he felt small. But in a good way. Good small. Vulnerable small. Safe small. Loved small. He can easily let himself go like this. It's good. Really good.

You don't have to put at hand on any other part of him, his cock strains against your thighs so hard and so leaking you don't have to touch it to put him on edge. He can come so easily like this and will do so if you encourage it, if he can take five more you'll let him come, and he accepts the challenge - he pants like he's ran a mile, his hairs an absolute mess, and his entire normally pale body is tinted a flushed pink except for his ass which is more red from your spanks.

He begs, pleas, promising he can take it if you go harder and he's on the point of sobbing if you give it to him. He about looses his voice entirely when you give him permission to go on and come - without a hand on him his cock practically explodes as his seed paints your thighs and his entire body gives out with his weight.

His ass might be sore for the next few days but that's fine, he reminds that he has you to pamper him after all after you've spent nearly ten minutes worried post-spank that you might've taken it too far but he promises he's okay, he's stronger than what he looks, even if deep down he realistically knows that took a lot out of him. Maybe something like this should be more of a treat kind of thing? Not too often he thinks he can take something like that.

Or... maybe next time you could be the one handle the heat next time? V has some wonderful ideas how to go so about it...

If you like what you read please consider reblogging! It means the world for writers and artists!

#devil may cry #devil may cry x reader #dante sparda #dante x reader #vergil sparda #vergil x reader #nero sparda #nero x reader #dmc v #v x reader #mine #sin content #devil may cry headcanons

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readngandweepng · 5 months ago

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afab!keegan p. russ x sub top male reader

note: reader is referred to as 'boy' once but no pronouns otherwise. half proofread but not really. still getting back into writing again so bear with me it's a little bit all over the place. havent seen ghosts in a long time so maybe ooc oops

“come ‘ere,”

keegan sits on the side of the hotel bed, pulling you down with him as you fall onto the (hopefully) clean sheets beneath you. he’s got a boyish smile on his face and when he kisses you he doesn’t hesitate to tease you with his tongue as his hands trail down your body to your waist, unbuckling your belt. you do the same, taking his jeans and boxers off to reveal his already dampening cunt. when he sees your head gaze down, he takes one of his hands and moves your face towards his again, kissing you so hard it leaves you a little breathless. he takes your cock out with a firm grip, twisting his wrist as he strokes it. when you part for breath, he keeps a hold of the side of your face as he looks into your eyes.

“you want me, sweet pea? wanna take me with this big fuckin’ cock o’ yours?” you twitch in his hands. the sheets look like they’re going to tear from your attempt to ground yourself. your mouth is dry as you nod, your hips moving in his hold to prove your point.

“i don’t know, hun.. i’m not sure if you deserve it or not.” shaky breaths escape you as his stroking slows to a stop, his thumb twiddles with the tip of your cock mindlessly. you resist the urge to roll your eyes at his teasing antics.

you mumble, “i do..” and he smiles at that, raising his eyebrows.

“oh, do you?” you hum positively in response and he whispers, “you wanna fuck me?” you almost whine when he removes his hand from your dick and instead spreads his legs and lifts his shirt up to reveal his toned chest. he brushes his fingers from a nipple down to his stomach and to his legs. he lets out a humorous huff at your infatuated gaze. “well?”

“yes, please.”

“yeah? you wanna?” he chuckles at your loving, lustful gaze, catching your eyes as you breathlessly look down at him.

“oh, sweetheart.. why don’t you do it then? fuck me.” you immediately dive down to kiss him and he holds onto your biceps. hiking his legs over your thighs, you enter him, and without hesitation you begin thrusting. he’s soaking, proven by the squelching sound that reverberates around the room each time your cock plummets back into him.

“yeah, yeah.. just like that, baby. keep it up.” he moans, his back arching as you pound his pussy. his legs wrap around your waist, heels digging into you as he pulls you into him, taking your cock even deeper.

“you’re doing so good, so fucking good.” keegan’s groaning, his eyes rolling back as he takes you. his hands go to the sides of his head, grasping at the sheets. you lean down, elbows on the bed at his sides. your pace quickens, thrusts deep, yet swift. you kiss keegan’s neck and he grabs your hips, holding onto you as he moves against you in sync.

he tries to place his feet on the bed again, but your cock’s insistent pounding causes even him to lose control, his words finally dying on his tongue. moans are the only sound he can make and he has to bite his lip to contain himself but he just can’t. his nails claw at your back, his legs spread on their own before he spasms, his head lulls back and for a second he can’t breathe before he’s twitching and cumming on your cock. he can feel you too, your cum spurting inside him.

you’re both out of breath, but he comes down from the high first, already smiling again, like always.

“god, that was good. I’m fucking spent,” you kiss him, and even in the kiss he’s smiling like a love-struck fool.

“well.. almost.” he says when you pull away, and now you can see clearly he’s giving you that look. you don’t have to ask what he means because you already know. he flips the both of you over in a heartbeat, now straddling your hips with his strong legs. he slips you inside of him again and begins to move without warning. to keep you inside he has to be careful, slow and methodical. his pussy is too slick now, coated to the brim with your cum and the results of his own orgasm.

he’s getting talkative again. occasionally his head falls back from the pleasure, but every time he looks back down at you he smirks, “you like that? like when i clench around you?” he clamps around you and he chuckles at the groan you let out. “you’re so god damn sweet, letting me use you—letting me use this cock. such a good boy f’ me..” he moans, lifting himself up and dropping onto you. you try to follow suit, messily bucking into him as best that you can with his weight holding you down when he slightly changes his position, leaning back with his hands on your thighs.

you twitch inside of him at the sight. he tries to laugh, but it immediately is cut off by his own moans. your grip on his waist has him reeling and a hand snaps to his clit, fingering it in tandem with his bounces. you groan, gripping his waist tighter, and with one more thrust keegan cums, letting out one final “fuck!” as his body stills, having just enough energy to allow you to fuck into him.

you cum inside of him once more and this time keegan lays atop of you, his face in your neck exhaling hot breaths. after a couple minutes he lifts his head up, and gives you a cheeky peck on the corner of your lips.

“‘ya think the boys might’ve heard?” you want to fuck that stupid smirk off his face again, praying to god that logan and hesh were getting drunk at some bar and somehow not sleeping in the hotel room, just perfectly available right next to yours and keegan’s.

#cod x male reader #cod x top male reader #keegan p russ x male reader #top male reader #i never know how to end these things #also dialogue was heavily inspired by a movie scene i just watched lmao #afab character #ftm character #my writngs

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catopoliscat · 8 months ago

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absence / suguru geto/fem!reader

suguru's been working away for a few days. time apart always made your boyfriend a little insatiable. sometimes he couldn't even wait for you to wake up before he had a taste.

tags: nsfw. 18+. fem!reader. (consensual) somnophilia. established relationship. canon!verse but slight au!suguru (not a cult leader/normal sorcerer). cunnilingus. fingering. one pet name, ‘my sweet thing’. spitting. suguru knows how to EAT. he’s also very, very into it if you catch my drift. porn without plot, really. no use of y/n or any other placeholders. ever.

wc: 1.9k.

a/n: is this a drabble? how small is a fucking drabble idk - but a lil smth small while i work on a lil smth fatter ehe

mdni.

It’s the throbbing between your legs that eventually wakes you up.

Your head is thick, still dusted and clouded with the heavy remnants of your disturbed dreams. There’s a cool breeze against your skin, and you vaguely become aware of the lack of covers on top of you… and yet your skin feels hot, prickly. You palm at the sheets, go to roll from your back onto your side but a firm grip against your thighs keeps you planted. The feeling of restriction rouses you more, your eyelids fluttering, squinting against the darkness of your bedroom—

—and the long, hot slide of something wet against your clit has you snapping awake.

Your eyes blink open as a breathless sound leaves your lips. Your hips buck up involuntarily against the unknown source of pleasure, a hot flush blooming across your skin. You go to rise up on your elbows, only to fall back again a breath later as you feel a strong suction against your swollen bud.

A soft moan falls out of you, the sound snapping through the silence of your bedroom, filtering with the lewd wet sound coming from between your thighs.

Looking down, you’re greeted by the mess of ink-black hair spilling over your lower stomach, untied and untamed, tickling your skin with every movement. You can make out a single ear and black gauge amidst the dishevelled locks, the soft moonlight catching on its obsidian surface.

Even if you couldn’t see, you could tell it was Suguru by the sounds of his deep groans alone.

“F-fuck, Suguru,” you gasp as those tight lips clench harder around your clit. “Couldn’t… ah, couldn’t wait until the damn morning?”

Something like a grunt and a moan is all you get in reply. Your hips go to roll again, but an arm is winding around your thigh—and a large hand presses down on your lower stomach to keep you still. Those sinful lips pop off of your clit with a wet smack.

“Missed you,” you hear Suguru murmur, the words muffled against your hot flesh before he gives one long lick from your entrance upward. He moans as if the taste is all he needs to sustain him. “Missed this.”

You bite your bottom lip, teeth dragging against the skin as your arm snakes down your body. Your fingers wind into those untamed locks, gripping the strands tightly at the root–and a rumbling moan vibrates against your hot, sensitive flesh in response. Suguru was always weak for having his hair pulled.

You rise up on one elbow. Your fingers tighten in his hair, your grip almost severe, but Suguru only groans again, his wet tongue sliding against your pussy messily. His head tilts up a little, two dark eyes looking up at you from underneath his lashes and the hair spilling across some of his face. Your own arousal glints against his lips and tongue, even his nose. A light flush blooms across his cheeks. He looks almost drunk.

He pushes against your grip easily, face diving back down an inch between your thighs. His tongue circles the slick rim of your entrance once again before sliding inside, a wet slurping sound filling the air—drinking from you like a man parched. A sharp nose bumps against your clit and you clench around his tongue tightly.

“A-ah,” you roll your hips toward his mouth, feeling his tongue probe deeper, and Suguru makes no move to stop you this time. Instead, his large palm slides up across your stomach, dipping under your shirt to grab greedily at your breast. “You’ve r-really missed me, huh?”

“You have no fucking idea,” he breathes out between thrusts of his tongue, voice muffled by your slick heat. Suguru wasn’t one for cursing often, but when he did, it never failed to make you clench, that coil in your gut winding a little tighter. “Couldn’t stop thinking about this.”

Suguru pulls back his tongue, purses his lips, and a trickle of spit falls against your pussy, wetting you further. He smears it with his tongue, his grip on your breast tightening. His ministrations are sloppy, a mixture of his saliva and your own arousal coating his lower face, strands of his untied hair, your thighs and ass.

“So fucking messy,” he groans, pinching at your nipple harshly almost as if you were to blame for all this.

Suguru was typically methodical and precise when it came to your pleasure… that was until distance separated you. Then he became like this–wanting, hungry, filthy. Almost insatiable.

Typically, however, he had the patience and restraint to wait until morning. It seems tonight he had been in a rush—not even bothering to remove take off his own clothes or even your underwear fully, instead tugging them hastily to the side. They were damp too, you could feel it, and you wondered how long he had busied himself licking against the fabric until his impatience had pushed him forward.

Your moans rise in both pitch and volume as he busies his tongue against your clit again, stimulating it in sure, quick circles with the tip. He lets the drool fall freely from his mouth until you feel it drip down between your cheeks to soak the bedsheets below you. You continue to tug and pull at his scalp, your hips twitching and your breathing growing increasingly ragged.

Suguru can tell you’re growing close—he knows your body well enough by now to recognise the signs. Laboured breathing, moans turning to pitchy gasps, the grip on his hair that’s almost painful. He doesn’t waste any time in sliding two thick fingers inside you, the passage barely felt with how slick you are. The pads of his digits pressing against the soft part inside your walls that has your hips nearly flying off the bed; not thrusting, simply curling. Insistently.

A guttural sound leaves Suguru’s lips in response, something like a growl.

“Fuck!” You gasp, the combination of his tongue on your clit and his fingers massaging your spot sending you dizzy. Your lips are dry, parched, as you pant into the cool air. “I’m gonna’ fucking cum-“

Suguru’s fingers rub more firmly against your spot and that coil in your gut is winding so tight you fear you’ll ache in the morning. You know you’re going to crash. Hard.

“Come on, come on,” Suguru is chanting against your pussy in breathless gasps. “Give it to me, my sweet thing, goddamn, give it—“

You glance down between eyelids that seem determined to clamp shut. You see Suguru’s face buried against you, hear the wet squelch of his fingers massaging you from the inside and you’re so close, so fucking close—

Then you see the movements of Suguru’s hips; small twitches and slow grinds as he ruts his clothed cock against the mattress—the thought that he’s as aroused by this as you are, as he always is when he brings you pleasure like this—sends you careening over the edge.

Your back bows, a harsh cry leaving your lips as your pussy clenches tight around his fingers. Eyes scrunched tight, you’re throbbing, crying out his name you think, but it’s hard to tell. Suguru’s groaning against you, whispered curses and praises falling from his lips like a symphony.

The pleasure is blinding, seemingly infinite—Suguru’s tongue and fingers working you even now, pushing you further and further until you can’t take it anymore. When it gets too much, even for you, you tug his lips away from your oversensitive core by his hair. He removes his fingers of his own accord, a slick sound accompanying the movement.

Your eyes are hazy, clouded, as you look at him, your breaths coming shallow and stilted. His face is soaked with you, his shining lips still parted, his tongue darting out to collect every drop as he stares back. The flush across his cheeks has darkened, and his breathing is shallow, too shallow—you recognise that look, it’s when—

A breathless laugh falls past Suguru’s lips. He seems sated, yet drained. With a breath, he pulls his hand from your shirt and rises up onto his knees, his movements languid and sluggish. As he sits back on his haunches, his knees slightly spread, you get a clear view of the swell in his pants—and the large dark spot blooming around it.

He had cum. Without touching himself.

Suguru’s lips tug to one side as he looks down at you spread out before him. He doesn’t seem sheepish or embarrassed, only vaguely surprised, yet satisfied. His hair is a mess, strands clinging to his damp face and neck. His hand drifts down to his clothed, softening cock, giving it a small squeeze. It twitches in his grasp, and a small ‘hah’ leaves his mouth as his hips twitch.

“Fuck,” he exhales as his eyelids flutter shut. “You made me cum.” He opens his eyes after a moment, letting his hand fall back to his thigh with a small sigh. “Couldn’t hold back. Not when you sounded like that.”

You chuckle weakly as your heart calms down in your chest, feeling exhausted in the best possible way. “Not like you to lose control,” you murmur, a lazy smile on your face.

“No?” He slowly crawls over you, two forearms bracing near your head, his hair tickling your collarbones. He dips down to press his lips against yours in a wet, unhurried kiss. You sigh as you taste yourself on his tongue, the taste of both him and you making you melt against the mattress beneath you. He pulls back after a moment too short, settling his weight down against you, but even in his tired state he’s careful not to press fully. “I think you seem to be the best at making me lose my sense.”

A nose brushes against yours, his eyelids fluttering shut in contentment. The weight against you grows a little heavier, and you imagine he must be beyond exhausted.

But still, you’re both covered in fluid, sweat and spit. It’s a little gross.

“We should shower,” you murmur, and Suguru hums in agreement. He makes no effort to move just yet, though. “And probably change the sheets.”

Suguru exhales through his nose sharply in amusement, his eyes blinking open to look at you through a hooded gaze. “Who said we were done?”

You raise an eyebrow and glance over at the clock on the nightstand. 3:56am.

“Sugur-“

His hips roll against yours, the fabric of his pants rubbing against your tender heat. You jolt a little, a small gasp leaving your lips in response to the stimulation—and the fact that Suguru is still very much hard underneath his trousers.

You look up at him with a huff of disbelief. “You’re kidding. You need to rest—”

“I missed you so fucking much,” he cuts in, the words deep in tone as his lazy gaze bores into yours from above. There’s an undercurrent of need in his voice, something damningly close to desperation. “Badly.” His hips roll again, more firmly this time. Despite your reservations, you moan at the hard pressure of his cock against you–and the fact that Suguru, composed Suguru, always seemed to be insatiable. Only for you.

His smiles, something frayed at the edges as his grinding becomes more insistent, fervent. “Did you miss me too? Hah, fuck, go on. Tell me.”

And you do.

You tell him how much you missed him many, many times that night—until warm sunlight filters into the room and you both fall asleep tangled together–amidst the very soiled sheets.

masterlist.

#jjk x reader #suguru x reader #getou suguru x reader #geto x reader #jjk x you #geto x you #suguru geto smut #jjk smut #suguru x y/n #geto x y/n #geto smut

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ackermonie · 1 year ago

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in a perfect world, you and satoru would get married. you would move into a bigger house, big enough for megumi and tsumiki and yuji and nobara and all the kids you wish you could just hide from the cruelty of this world. you would even have children of your own, away from the gojo clan and their obsession of who is going to inherit the six eyes next.

you always dreamt of a big kitchen with lots of natural sunlight. somewhere far, far away, somewhere you can properly take care of satoru in the way he deserves.

sometimes if your mind drifts far enough, you could almost taste how that feels. you could almost feel the sun on your skin, hear the voices of innocent laughter and running feet echo through the warmth of your home…

but this isn't a perfect world.

in this world, you just happen to be staring at the face-down pregnancy test on the counter. you are bent over on the sink, elbows planted on the counter, and you let your chin hit your chest. breathing is an impossible task.

it’s cold, dull as the worst of knives.

october 31st. you were supposed to be getting ready for the impromptu Halloween party everyone just decided to throw. but once again, since this is far, far away from the world you wish you lived in, you're right here, in one of jujutsu tech's bathrooms with a ticking time bomb within a hand's reach.

"it's probably nothing," shoko puffs out the smoke in her lungs one last time before stomping on her cigarette. "you said you always use protection. I don't think either of you would joke around about something like this."

"my period is four fucking weeks late." you mutter out, yanking on your hair in frustration. "a whole month. this never happened before."

you've been trying to ignore it for weeks, convincing yourself it's just the stress of everything that's going on; it happened before. a couple of weeks and you'd wake up to your uterus being angry at you again, but your breasts grow sorer. you grow cranky and angry and emotional, but you discarded this as another symptom of stress.

four weeks is a little too long.

shoko is quite worried herself, but she can't join your little panic attack. she's the only one you decided to trust with this, and as nonchalant as she usually is, seeing you in such a situation stirred something inside her.

even more so when she has just received a text that summons all hands on deck in shibuya. a text she's sure you're yet to see. a text she shouldn't be showing you until this situation is handled first.

"let's just see it," she steps forwards, a hand on your back for comfort. "whatever the result is."

"i can't have a fucking baby right now."

shoko's hand raises to your nape, giving you a comforting squeeze. she bends down to your level. you look at her.

"we can always get rid of it."

something twists in your chest at the thought, but it seems that this could be the only possible solution for such a situation. you can even do it without telling satoru, since he's been quite busy recently. this would only burden him even more.

"yeah," you nod, looking back down at the sink again. the thought is still running in your brain as you straighten up. you run a hand down your face, shaking your head as if to shake away the anxiety, and you finally reach for the test.

shoko watches as you pause. your chest heaves as you attempt to take deeper breaths, and before she can blink one more time, the test is in your hands.

the bathroom door opens, grabbing only shoko's attention.

"apologies, ladies," nanami's deep voice seems to echo in the breathless bathroom. "we need to go." he takes a step in hesitantly, gaze switching from shoko to your stiff frame. "something is happening in shibuya."

his words fail to be registered by your brain for a while. it takes you all your might to keep standing.

"fuck," you let out breathily.

shoko reaches for the stick in your hand, her stomach twisting at the little + sign on display.

she sighs. "fuck."

"what the hell is going on?" nanami advances towards you two, unable to locate the source of stress in the bathroom until shoko turns around, test in hand.

he stops in his tracks.

"i'm pregnant."

==========================

more?

#ackermonie writes #i think im gonna make more parts of this soon #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk drabbles #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk fluff #jjk #jjk angsr #gojo angst #gojo x reader angst #hurt/ no comfort #ft. nanami #ft shoko

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izvmimi · 1 year ago

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cw: fem!reader. minors dni. part of enemies to lovers au. reader is leads spokesperson for and president of an organization that calls for hero society reform. a/n: i'll probably be releasing a few parts to this and this is actually a follow-up with permission to an idea work-shopped with a lovely friend. first part here.

Your first night together doesn’t end up being hasty, heated and heavy in the stall of an overly luxurious convention center bathroom, but in a similarly over-the-top hotel room, the type that swears it’s not a love hotel but doesn’t separate the shower and the bedroom and has too many towels, and even more places to rest your body when you fuck nasty for hours.

And Deku takes complete advantage of that. By the time the night is over and you’ve regained your senses, your core and everything below feels like jelly and your heart pounds in your chest, but over time, growing up with the unforgiving camera and the sting of negative online opinion, your poker face is immaculate. You’d hoped that Izuku was the type to fuck and fall asleep immediately, but he’s still awake, staring at the ceiling with a smug smile on his face, and you feel as though you should gloat somehow, just to knock him down a peg, but you know your voice will come out raspy and breathless.

He’s doing something with his hands, and you’re not sure what. Fidgeting. This is the time that either of you should leave the bed and go get a smoke, but neither of you smoke, and neither of you really want to leave this bed. You turn and pretend there’s something important for you to check on your phone; when you shift, you see that he’s rested on his side now, watching you with an amused expression on his face, waiting for you to speak, his head propped up by his elbow. The way his skin glows with a thin layer of sweat, and soft red underlies the smattering of freckles on his face, makes your stomach turn again. You see too much of him for the first time tonight, all broad muscles and scars and smiles, careful, gentle hands and wanting mouth. You know that you hate him, hate everything he represents, but it’s hard to quantify that when you’re still damp between the legs.

You have to regain power somehow, you tell yourself.

“What are you looking at?” you ask. Immature and snarky, you tell yourself, but it doesn’t matter. He smiles.

“You.”

You scoff but his grin is steadfast. It annoys you. You look at your phone again as if someone could have possibly sent a pressing email at 3 am in the morning. He’s still watching you carefully and you feel analyzed from your toes to your nose.

“You’re not the best I’ve ever had, but I have to give it to you, the pro hero body is at least good for something.” You reply.

He blinks, and you hope he takes offense, but instead an arm pulls you closer. He breathes deep and part of his exhale tickles your face. Your body tenses and you suppress a whimper.

“I still have time.”

Your head spins for a moment but you think quickly. Pulling back just a slight bit - he lets you, easily - you steel yourself again. Perhaps you should leave, even if it’s late, although there’s nothing you want more than to be rendered breathless again.

“I think that’s enough,” you reply. Your pulse stabilizes, and you resume your mask of stubborness. “Momentary lapse of judgment, not saying I regret it though.”

With that you make your way out of bed, suppressing the urge to wrap your body in blankets so he can’t ogle you anymore, trying not to look at his perfect body bare and lose the resolve to walk confidently out of the front door.

He sits up, crossing his legs and arms over his chest. A quiet moment passes as your footsteps pad towards the bathroom sink. The water turns on, and then he speaks again.

“You sprayed perfume on your ankles.”

You turn, confused, spotting him again, his gaze dark from your vantage point. He runs his hands through tousled curls and you remember why so many horny netizens bomb your social media, any time you mention the Symbol of Peace in an interview.

“Your point?”

“Your lingerie is expensive and the set matches,” he adds, eyeing remnants of lace strewn on the ground. You follow his gaze, your cheeks burning.

“Maybe I enjoy the finer things in life?” you reply, lower lip wobbling and you bite your lip quickly, embarrassed. His eyes narrow and his lips curl into a smile. Devilish, unlike anything you’ve seen on television before. Before he says the next thing, you can tell he’s already pinned you again in this quick battle of words.

“Like me.”

Checkmate.

You can’t think quickly enough, instead retreating to turn on the shower, hoping it’s as loud as possible. Drowning him out, drowning yourself out, drowning this moment out of existence.

It won’t happen again.

#izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #daydreams: bnha #thoughts: izuku #mimi's notes

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angelofsmalldeaath · 6 months ago

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to be alone — a.h.b.

cw: very borderline smut but not really, suggestive, fluff

“shh, go back to sleep.” i feel the bed dip in the wee hours of the morning, his voice a hoarse whisper. it’s a dream, my sleep-addled brain tells me, it’s another dream fueled by loneliness and missing him and being so so cold every night. it’s—

“baby?”

“hmm?”

“you’re not cold, are you?” he slides in behind me, still fully clothed. his soft, worn jeans rubs against my thigh. a second later, he drapes a sweater covered arm over me. “you’ve got goosebumps.”

“you’re a dream,” i mumble, sleep coating each word. his deep laugh resonates all around me, surrounding me like a warm blanket.

“am i?” he kisses the shell of my ear. “how do you know?”

sleep threatens to take me under once again in the comfort of his arms. his soft sweater is familiar—just the tiniest bit fuzzy, smelling exactly like it always does; of his cologne and fabric softener and him. i smile to myself, this is so far the most realistic dream my brain has produced.

“hey,” he kisses my shoulder, sending butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

“you’re a dream…” i repeat, “because i’ve had this dream before.”

“oh yeah?” i feel myself being pulled into a chest—so solid and real and warm. his fingers dance on my arms, from my shoulder to my elbow and back up, tickling just a little—not enough to fully wake me up, but definitely enough to hold me there, suspended in a limbo between sleep and consciousness. “what happens in your dream?”

“you come into my bed…”

“like this?” the smile in his voice is prominent.

“mm-hmm,” i nod and turn, eyes closed, face burrowed into his chest now. his scent surrounds me stronger than before, with new things added to it—faint smell of coffee and the outdoors in general.

it’s a dream it’s a dream it’s a dream, i chant in my head over and over again till the words meld into each other and turn gibberish.

“and then?” his voice cuts through my spiral.

“and then you hold me.”

“i am holding you…” i feel him nod, and yet his arms tighten, pulling me deeper into his chest. the next time he speaks, i feel the vibrations of his voice running through my chest, passing through my heart.

“and then?”

instead of answering, i focus on his fingers—up and down, up and down. from my shoulders to my elbow and back up.

“sometimes you touch me,” i breathe into his chest, “other times you hold me until i wake up.”

my voice is muffled, barely audible. it’s alright, though. he’s just a dream, a figment of my imagination, a part of me. how could he ever not understand me?

“i touch you?” he laughs, a little smug, and i nod. “how do i touch you?”

i take his hand in mine, trace the pads of his fingers. then i place his hand under my camisole—rough fingers touching my ribs, tracing them individually. he reaches the bottom of my breasts and i sigh. “you touch me like that. like you do when you’re really here…”

“baby i am really here!” he laughs, kissing my head this time. his thumb moves in circles over my ribs. “open your eyes, ‘m right here.”

“‘s a trick,” i mumble. a moment later my mouth finds the hollow of his throat. his skin is slightly cold to the touch, halfway to warming up. against my lips i feel some stubble, like he hasn’t shaved his neck in a day or two. “you’ll disappear if i open my eyes. and i want you to stay. i miss you…” i say, “i can’t wait two more days till you’re home.”

“you don’t have to,” he laughs, giggles almost—it’s a giddy, breathless sound that makes me smile too.

“you’re a good dream,” i hold onto him tight, relishing how solid he feels in my arms. “the best dream i’ve ever had.”

his hand slips out of my camisole and cradles my cheek. then i feel him tilting my chin up, feel his lips on mine—just one tiny, soft kiss. he smiles against my mouth, says something too but the words don’t fully register in my mind.

“i’ll see you soon,” i murmur, properly sleepy now, unable to hold on for much longer.

“you will,” his voice holds a promise. “go to sleep now, i can’t wait to see you in the morning.”

i chuckle at his words. just before sleep properly drags me under, i place my hand on his cheek, feel the familiar beard under my palm and hear him hum. “and you’ll be here in the morning?” i tease, “will you be here as a daydream?”

he threads his fingers through my hair, playing with it till it’s impossible to hold onto consciousness. just as i’m about to slip under, i hear him exhale. “as anything you want me to be,” he murmurs, and i succumb to sleep.

#hozier x reader #andrew hozier byrne #hozier #hozier fluff #minors dni #writers on tumblr #writeblr #writblr #Spotify #to be alone #minors do not interact

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rashoumon-homo · 10 months ago

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No Such Tastes In Men pt.4 (the last part)

Dazai x Male Reader, NSFW

-> Content Warnings: male!reader, anal sex (reader receiving), bottom!reader, dom/sub undertones, frottage, lethal amounts of fluff

-> 2.6k words

NSFW CONTENT AHEAD - READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

<- Previous Part

AUTHOR NOTE: There will be more Dazai x reader content for sure, but this is the last part of this particular story arc. I’m glad you’ve all enjoyed it so much! The reception is far more than I expected when I wrote the first part and I’m very grateful to all of you. <3

Initiating sex with Dazai has gotten steadily easier. Where before there’d be clunky verbal propositioning, you now wordlessly fall into each other’s arms at the end of each weekly meeting.

He’s more liberal with kisses than you expected; it’s like the first one broke the dam and now he can’t get enough. When you’re alone, he’ll kiss you just because; cradling your jaw in his palm before gently pressing his lips to yours. Any lull in the conversation is quickly filled with the softness of his mouth on yours.

It’s natural— unnaturally so.

Dazai hasn’t asked to have penetrative sex with you again since the first time. You were quick to catch on that he was avoiding it, so you asked him about it, worried he hadn’t liked it.

“No, no,” he’d said quickly. “It was… fuck, it was perfect.” He seemed a little breathless, a distant look in his eye. “I just need some time to process it.”

You didn’t push him. It’s understandable that he’d be overwhelmed, since it was his first time receiving and he’d thought he was straight up until then. He’d come to you when he was ready.

Nearly two weeks after the night you’d fucked, he sent a text asking you to come over to his place after work. The implicit real invitation was clear as day. He’s ready again.

You stand at Dazai’s front door, wrapping your coat tighter against yourself to block the chilly air. When he answers the door, he seems a bit more relaxed than last time. He invites you in and hangs up your coat for you.

“So…” you prompt. “You wanted to see me?”

“Yeah,” he says, a little sheepishly. “I wanted to talk to you. I’ve had some time to think and I want to share what I’ve discovered about myself.”

“Oh!” you say, a little surprised. “I’d be happy to hear all about it!”

Dazai gives you a relieved smile and urges you to sit on the couch. He’s bustling in the kitchen a moment later and calls out, “Just water, right?”

“Yup!” you reply, your stomach doing a little flip. Remembering your drink preferences from last time is a small thing, you remind yourself. It doesn’t necessarily mean anything deeper. Although it is nice to know he cares.

He returns with your drinks and sets his on the side table. He fidgets with his hands while you take a sip of water.

You smile around the rim of your glass and peek over at him. He’s so cute like this, with all his carefully manufactured bravado stripped away. What’s left behind is a cautious, sweet man earnestly looking to learn more about himself and his desires. It’s been hard for you to avoid catching feelings, but you know that would be taking the arrangement too far, so you maintain a level of emotional distance when you can.

“What?” you finally ask, nudging him with your elbow.

“Can I kiss you one more time before I start talking?” he asks. “Just in case?”

The implication of “just in case” makes your blood run cold, but you give him a warm smile. “Always,” you murmur, tipping your head forward.

His lips meet yours gently, his hand hovering near the back of your head before cautiously resting in your hair. He sucks lightly at your lower lip, teasing it between his teeth. Then he tilts his head further and parts his lips, urging you to do the same. As you lick into his mouth, his body seems to curl into you. It’s like he just wants to be held; to be as close to you as possible. You run your fingers through his hair, cradling his head in your hand, and he lets out the most melancholy little sigh you’ve ever heard. It’s like a flower wilting, like a stray kitten in the rain, and it breaks your heart.

You slowly ease away, peppering his lips and the corner of his mouth with little kisses as you do. His eyes stay closed for a moment after you pull away, like he wants to pretend the moment isn’t ending.

“Talk to me,” you say quietly.

“I’m bi,” he says. He scans your eyes for any reaction, like there’s still some doubt in his mind that you of all people will reject him.

You pull him into a tight hug. “I’m so happy for you,” you say, voice muffled into his shoulder. “Thank you for telling me.” You can feel his body relax, a little of the tension let out at your words.

“You’ve helped me to realize,” he continues as you pull away, “That I like men sexually… and romantically.” Before you can even process it, a flood of words pours from his mouth.

“I wasn’t totally sure at first because I like having sex with you but I didn’t want to label myself as bi yet because I’d never had romantic feelings towards a guy. But then I started to feel things towards you and I wanted to test it by having you fuck me and I really, really liked it. And not only that, I liked you.”

He takes a breath and looks at you. “I like you. And it goes deeper than physical desire. And I know that wasn’t the deal, but I couldn’t help it. I don’t want to be stuck in a one-sided thing with you so if you don’t feel the same, I think we should stop hooking up. It’s not fair to either of us.”

You blink at him. “But I do feel the same,” you say. “I’ve been trying to ignore those thoughts, but I like you too. I want to make out with you and fuck you and give you blow jobs in alleyways, but I also want to hold your hand and take you on cheesy dates to the bowling alley or whatever.”

Dazai giggles, but it’s a little sniffly. “The bowling alley?” he teases.

You laugh and shove him playfully. “You’re laughing now, but you haven’t seen my mad bowling skills in action.”

“Oh my god,” he laughs, shaking his head. When the laughter dies down, he asks, “So you really do feel the same?”

“I wouldn’t lie to you,” you say firmly.

Like a nervous teen, he asks, “So we’re, like, boyfriends?”

You hide a smile behind your hand. “I like the sound of that.” Then you pull him in by the collar of his shirt and kiss him. He melts into your arms, all the hesitancy from earlier having fully evaporated. You can feel him smiling into the kiss, something he’s never done before. It’s adorable. You find yourself smiling back, and then you’re both smiling too much to even kiss properly, so he nuzzles his face into your neck and lets you hold him.

“There’s something we haven’t done yet that I’d like to try,” he mumbles.

“Sounding?” you joke. Apparently the joking tone doesn’t read as well when he can’t see you, so he pulls back briefly, looking mildly horrified. “I’m just kidding,” you reassure him, chuckling and running your fingers through his hair. “Tell me your idea.”

“I’m not sure if this is something you’re into or not, so we don’t have to do it if you don’t want to,” he explains. “But you fucked me before and I was kind of wondering what it would be like to fuck you.”

A shiver runs down your spine at the suggestion. You can’t deny you’ve thought about it before. Late at night, when you’re too horny to sleep, you’d finger yourself imagining it was him instead. You’d formed a habit of it, where it was second nature to cum with his name on your lips and fantasies of him stuffing you full.

Interpreting your silence as hesitation, Dazai quickly backtracks. “But if you’re a top, I don’t mind bottoming for you again-”

You cut him off. “I’m a switch.” More quietly, you admit, “You have no idea how much I’ve craved that idea.”

A playful smirk makes its way across his face. “Craved it, hmm?” He sits in your lap, slowly kissing up your neck. Your hands move to rest on his hips.

“M-maybe,” you admit, mind already going fuzzy with arousal. He rolls his hips, pressing your erections together, and you can’t stifle the groan you let out. “Fuck…” you whisper.

“I like you like this,” he teases, his breath ghosting over your ear. “So pliant and needy under my touch.” He rolls his hips again and bites down at the junction of your neck and shoulder. “I could get used to this,” he murmurs.

“Dazai…” you groan. You’re melting under him, chasing his every touch, as your mind clouds over with arousal. You need him. You need more.

“I know, baby,” he soothes. Then he gets off your lap and stands up and you positively whimper at the lack of contact. “Bedroom,” he orders. “I’m not fucking you on the couch– at least not tonight.”

You let him lead you to the bedroom and push you onto your back on the bed. He works quickly to pull your shirt off, and you’re reminded he’s wearing far too many clothes, so you do the same for him. After a few moments of frustrated fiddling with each other’s belts (both of you getting in each other’s way), you wordlessly agree to take off your own pants instead.

And then you’re both just in your boxers and even the time it takes to remove those feels too long, so instead you grab him and pull him down on top of you. You roll around on the bed, frantically grinding against each other. Kisses turn into bites and somewhere in the back of your mind you’re scolding yourself for acting like a feral animal. But you can’t bring yourself to care, not when his throat feels so good between your teeth and the friction of his cock against yours with only two flimsy layers of fabric in between is driving you wild.

Dazai manages to get his underwear down to his knees in the scuffle, then he slides his hands under your ass and hooks his thumbs in the waistband of your boxers to pull them down. “Hold on-” he groans, chuckling a little as you suck a hickey onto his pale skin. He rolls off of you and pulls his underwear the rest of the way off before you pounce on him again. He’s trying to wiggle your boxers the rest of the way down, but it’s hard with you latched onto him like that.

“Be patient!” he laughs, shoving you off. He manages to finish undressing you, then straddles your hips. “Good,” he says, kissing you. “Good boy.”

When he leans away, his bare cock brushes against yours, making your hips jerk forward. You whine and grab his ass, roughly pulling him forward to chase the friction. He wraps his hand around both of you and strokes them together. You moan under his touch. It feels so good, like warm sparks running through your veins from your crotch outward.

“Don’t cum yet, okay?” Dazai reminds you. “I still want to fuck you.”

“Get on with it,” you groan impatiently. You hand him the lube, having remembered from last time where it is.

“So impatient,” he teases. “You really that desperate for me to fuck you?”

“You have no idea,” you whisper, then moan as he slips a long, slender finger inside of you.

A look of surprise crosses his face. “Did you already prep yourself?” he asks.

You nod. “I assumed from your text…”

He slips another finger inside, working you open with ease. “But how did you know I’d want to top this time?”

“I didn’t,” you explain. It’s getting really hard to concentrate on the conversation with Dazai’s fingers in your ass. “I came prepped last time too, just in case.”

Dazai stops suddenly, eyes wide. “You’re joking.” You wiggle your hips to urge him to keep going. “I can’t believe I missed out on the chance to fuck you.”

“You have the chance right now, so c’mon,” you say impatiently. “Fuck. Me.”

You’re momentarily disappointed when Dazai pulls his fingers out, but then he reaches for a condom and rolls it on.

“How do you like it?” he asks. His cock rubs against your hole and it takes all your self-restraint not to push back against him and fuck yourself on it. “Fast, slow? Gentle, rough?”

“I like it in my ass,” you snarl.

He unexpectedly grins. “Such a brat!” He sinks just the head inside, not even enough for you to really feel any relief. “You’re gonna be a good boy for me though, right?”

Desperation and impatience starts to crack your resolve. You need him to fuck you or you’re gonna lose your mind. “Yeah,” you say reluctantly.

“Yeah, what?”

You shoot Dazai a withering look, but his smug expression holds strong. “Yes, Dazai,” you correct yourself.

“So good,” he murmurs, then sinks the rest of the way in. The way he stretches you out and fills you up is even better than you imagined. He fits you perfectly; hits every spot just right. But that’s nothing compared to the first thrust. When he pulls back and thrusts in, your whole spine arches and you moan loud enough for the sound to fill the room.

“Fuck,” you rasp.

“Yeah, you like that?” Dazai asks. He’s a little breathless himself. “You feel so good. So warm and tight around me.” He thrusts again, moaning through it. “Goddamn…” Gradually, he builds up a rhythm. He maneuvers your arms so they’re over your head, crossed at the wrists, then holds them tight in his grip. Holding you in place, he starts to fuck you more roughly.

The slick sound of the lube, along with the slap of his balls against your ass, fill the room. The sound is accompanied by both of your moans, grunts, and heavy breathing.

“Dazai,” you warn. Your cock is throbbing, ready to go off at the slightest touch. “Gonna-”

He wraps his free hand around your cock and pumps once. Embarrassingly enough, that’s all it takes for you to finish. Your whole body tenses as you let out a short grunt through clenched teeth and spill out over his hand and your belly.

“Shit-” Dazai grunts, then thrusts hard and lets out a low moan as he cums.

A minute later, you’re both breathing hard, covered in a mixture of sweat, lube, and cum, but happier than you’ve ever been. Dazai pulls out and takes care of the condom, then flops on the bed beside you.

“I definitely like topping,” he says finally. You can hear the grin in his voice, and you can’t help but smile too.

“Don’t expect me to let you top every time,” you warn him. “My ass is gonna hurt so bad tomorrow…”

“Hey, you asked for it!” Dazai rolls onto his side and flops an arm across your chest lazily. “When were you planning on telling me you’re a brat, by the way? You’re a lot of work, you know. It’s a good thing you’re cute like that.”

You stick out your tongue at him, and he darts in and licks it before you can pull it away. Laughing, you shove him, then roll on top of him and kiss him. “Boyfriend,” you murmur happily.

“That’s me,” he says, kissing you again. The cute moment lasts for only a minute or two longer, at which point Dazai whines, “You’re getting cum all over me!”

You roll your eyes and get up, pulling him up after you. “Fine, let’s shower. C’mon, babe.”

Dazai grins and follows you. “I like when you call me babe,” he says. After a moment, he adds, “I like you.”

“Ugh, you’re so adorable it’s actually gross,” you tease. You kiss him, then murmur, “I like you too.”

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#rashoumon writes #dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai x y/n #dazai x male reader #dazai x m!reader #dazai smut #bsd fic #bsd #dazai bsd #top dazai

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