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netherfeildren · 13 days ago

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Busy, Dying. Part 1;

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: In an in-between place called his life, Joel Miller is alone. In search of a cure. In need of a miracle. In want of God.

Can I interest you in a cure for loneliness? She'd asked him in a language without words. Taking it is the easy part. Letting her go is impossible.

-OR-

an a/b/o soulmates AU

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: No Outbreak AU, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Soulmates AU, Infidelity, Cheating, HEA!!!!!, Angst, Fluff & Smut, Mating Bites, Knotting, Heat Sex, Breeding Kink, Group Therapy, Social Experiments, Basically puppy training for unsocialized Alphas, And by God that man will be house trained by the time she’s done with him!, Complicated family dynamics, Discussions of self harm, Depression, Existential Angst, Author returns not with a whimper but with a KNOT, I wrote this in a very unserious state of mind beware

A/N: Gray November, I've been down since July - but we're so back, baby. I’ve missed this so bad. I’ve missed you all, I won’t drone on and on. I hope you enjoy, and please talk to me in the comments. Update me on what I’ve missed, let me know how you’ve been and what’s happening in your life.

A great heartfelt thank you to all of my wonderful friends who so supportively cheered me on while I struggled to write this. Sincerely the best people I know.

Love you all madly.

Word Count: 6.5K

Read on AO3

Part 1;

The old linoleum tiles are the most peculiar shade of puce, and Joel has realized that there is someone sitting at the back of the room who smells… strange.

More brown than purple—an ugly color. There’s something about it that fascinates him.

The woman that is currently speaking tells of her husband; it’s the only tale she has to tell. She’s been doing it for weeks, and they all know it well by now. Older, omega, the woman, and at the latter and less comely stage of life. Most of them here can say the same. They usually give their names, those that get up to share—although it’s never a requirement when you attend, it is highly encouraged—the sharing, he means—but he never pays much mind to them—the names, that is. That’s not what he’s here for after all—to make friends. Although, he does see how that’d be the initial assumption.

Joel Miller is here for something more specific.

Six weeks he’s been showing up to these things now, and he’s yet to take a turn. He tells himself he’s working up to it.

What that specific thing is…he hasn’t quite figured out. He’s listening for it, though, and intently, even if he does skip over the names. It’s the details of what they’re telling that matter to him. The hows and intricate whys of what it is that brought them here today.

Her youth had been spent on a drunk, the woman is saying—her husband—and he’d been cruel to her in those days when there was still currency to spend in the form of her vitality. Joel nods at the puce—yes, he thinks, that’s usually the way of it. But later, there’s more to the story she reminds her audience, he drank himself into a fit, and had never been right since. The cruelty had been taken away from the marriage after that, and she’d been put in charge.

“But I wonder,” she says, “If sometimes I don’t miss it, the way he’d been,” —if the reason she was here now, with all of the rest of them that were just like her in their own unique ways, was that she’d been left lonely after her cruel husband had been exchanged for a sick one.

Joel nods again and wonders what sort of face the woman wears as she confesses but doesn’t bother to check. No matter, he knows they’re the same. If not in designation, then in heart.

It’s easy, that thing, he does it too, to wish for the bad. To want to hold on to it, the thing that hurts. Addictive, even, in some cases. Missing it is easy.

It’s why he’s here.

And it’s what they promise you. In their flyers and pamphlets, when they stand on the corners of streets talking people up wearing that look in their eye and that slouch in their step, when they smell it on you—or in the lack there of—a mate or a purpose.

Welcome to our meeting. We’re here to find the cure for loneliness.

That’s what they promise you when you come here.

It’d been that word: loneliness, actually, that had caught him. L-O-N-E-liness. There was something attractive about it to him. Not a label but a state.

You see, it was like this: Joel had seen a therapist once, several years ago, against his will and at the behest of another, who’d said all the wrong things in all the wrong ways.

“You sound depressed, Joel,” the therapist had told him.

He’d worn horn rimmed glasses and had a shiny bald head he could see the reflection of the overhead lights in. And worse—the non-scent of a beta which told him they’d never understand each other in the ways Joel longed to be understood. He’d—not hated him, necessarily—but felt an immense apathy for the man; more so than the regular apathy he felt for most things in his life.

“I don’t know what that means.”

“Very, very sad,” was the official diagnosis.

Joel hadn’t liked the sound of the word. The label. He did not like that a word so succinct could be ascribed to him and all that had happened to him in his life. There was no word for it. It just was.

But there was something different about a state of aloneness, which if attributed to himself, he could accept. He had been left alone, in ways. It was a tangible thing he could look around a room inside of himself and recognize.

They’re meetings, is what this place is—encounter groups this coalition offers where lonely demi humans can come to congregate, discuss their aloneness, what had led them to such a state; their lack of attachments, connections, mates—alpha, omega. Held in the basement of the Emmanuel Episcopal Church on Newbury street, right between his shop and house, although they never talk about religion which he likes because he doesn’t believe in religion.

God is still under review.

He wonders if the Catholics wouldn’t have them.

Sitting forward in his seat, the metal folding chair that always leaves his back aching something fierce, he presses his elbows into his knees to distract with alternative pressure. Focusing on his fingers woven together between his spread legs, he tries to pay attention to the man who’s stood up to speak now. Older than himself, late sixties, no children, no family, no nothin’; he’d run them all off.

But Joel is distracted.

The smell is stronger now. Stranger too. Something full bodied, but metallic like rust, astringent bleach, built in a way that forces saliva to pool heavy between his suddenly aching gums. A mask that sits atop something of a much different chemical architecture—that’s the strange part.

Or—no. The back of his neck itches, and Joel lifts a palm to cup his nape, quell the sting, feel the tender mark. No. The strange part is not the illusion of the smell. What it is, actually, is that he’s fairly certain what he’s smelling is someone else's blockers. Something which he’s positive he’s never consciously noticed on another person in the thirty plus years since he’d presented as an alpha.

He has, suddenly, the quite intense urge to peek over his shoulder, certain that he’ll be caught smelling things he has no business smelling. That there will be someone just there, breathing down the nape of his neck with accusation on their tongue—boo!

Silly. But he’d known today would not be a good day.

It’d started off wrong. The milk had gone sour overnight, the check engine light had come on in his truck, all his socks were suddenly mismatched with not a single pair to be found, and his usual route to work had been waylaid by some freak accident. A tree split in half, one side into a house, the other into the road. Not a sign of lightning in the sky all night long.

Perhaps he might be compelled to believe in God after all.

Joel does not like it when things are out of order or out of the ordinary. His life was organized in a way that never caused him strife or excess. And it was not that he was stuck in his ways, only that he enjoyed his routine and disliked when things were not as they should be. And this—whatever it is he’s smelling, whoever—is not as it should be.

The older gentleman, an Alpha too, is still speaking. He had a daughter, has, who no longer speaks to him. Won’t even take his money. He’d had a long career in government that’d filled him with greed and paranoia and a radical view of life that refused to align with the way young people saw the world now. Perhaps he’d tried to change at certain times, but he was old and set in his ways. Or maybe he hadn’t wanted to change as badly as he should have when he still had the chance to. Happily stuck in the past. His wife had died, and his daughter had gone away from him. Too tired of his mediocrity as a father to give him another chance.

The man sounds like he feels sorry for himself. Like he thinks himself the victim, and this one, Joel does look up at. He looks old and worn down, heavy beer pouch and thinning hair and sagging jowls. A sad and lonely man. Joel wonders if that’s how he looks to the other people in this room, as well.

“No man knows how bad he is until he has tried very hard to be good.” Joel blinks, looks at him more closely, tries very hard to find similarities between themselves. But no—not quite right, not the thing he’s looking for. Their plight is different. This man is not alone, he’s got his weakness to keep him company.

The one thing Joel had fought like hell to keep out of his repertoire of issues. He’d run from even the possibility of it as soon as she was dead, left Texas straight for the Northeast and from thereafter, everything he’d done, he’d done with a staunchness of character. If at the end of it, that staunchness was made up of apathy or numbness or dissociative fury, well, then at least he wasn’t still that man who’d been too weak to save his daughter.

That counted very much in Joel’s book.

An overabundance of cold numbness, little anger, everything a static haze—an abstinent winter. That was his whole life. But then, look at him now, he was here, wasn’t he? He’d taken that brochure handed to him on that last warm Tuesday weeks ago as he’d headed back to the shop from lunch.

Hello, sir. Could I interest you in a cure for loneliness? The young omega had said.

It’d started like anything—an experiment or a desperate ploy. The monotony had been steady going the past few years, getting older, colder. He’d grown hard and solitary around his wound, loneliness spread like a fungus, and he’d longed for any sort of change.

“A cure…how?” The terrible shrink had come to mind.

“Oh, nothing to fret over.” The young man had a nice smile, Joel remembers. Kind and straight toothed. Honest in the way that a stranger knocking on your door to sell you a Bible seems honest. “We call it an encounter group. People come, share, tell the tales of their designation and their lives. In the end, the result is different for different people. Some move on to a second step if they need more. Others find what they’re looking for just through the connection of sharing. But no matter the result, you’ll see, you’ll be cured. Promise.” He’d winked, smile deepening, giving him an appreciative once over at the end of his spiel. Joel had blinked back, surprised, confused, but curiosity peaked enough he’d obsessed over it for three short days before he’d found himself stepping into the molted incense smell of the belly of a church so dimly lit he was sure not even God peaked in this sad space any longer.

“It’s that easy?” Joel had asked, childlike in his throat-strangled hope.

“That easy.”

It seemed the smile had been honest enough to sell him the Bible.

The scent insists upon itself as the older gentleman finishes up, and Joel’s nose tickles with whatever it is it’s whispering at him. He wants to get up and walk out, run away, but suddenly his gut is tight and hot, and he isn’t sure he can actually stand up without disgracing himself in front of all these people. A wash of agonized heat moves through him, confused at what’s suddenly happening to his body.

“We have a newcomer today sharing for the first time,” Maria, the woman who leads the group, says at the front of the room. “Everyone give her a warm welcome, it’s her first day and already she’s brave enough to jump on up here.”

There’s the shuffling of bodies in their seats, a cleared throat, the man sitting behind Joel breathes so loudly he thinks he’s gotta have some sort of medical condition, the puce turns more hideous by the second, and his own heart is beating so hard in his ears the rush of blood is dizzying. He feels each thump of the thing against his breast bone in some sick imitation of a fist begging to be let out.

The new voice begins as nothing but a murmur.

An introduction—he misses the name. His breathing goes shallow, he’d tip over in his seat if he didn’t have both boots planted firmly against the puce. The voice gains strength and with it, Joel wishes he’d been paying attention from the start. He didn’t get to hear her name.

It’s a girl.

She’d run away from home in the spring of her sixteenth year to join the opera, she tells them. Had come upon the city in roaring spring and thought the rest of her life would be exactly like that, pure novelty in bloom, nothing like what she’d left behind. And was deeply disappointed when the reality was nothing such.

And Joel hears it, that disappointment in her voice at what she’d not been able to find after searching for it so religiously. This is what makes him look up at her. This, unlike all the others, he thinks he can relate to—just by the sound of her voice. The search for a thing lost which can never again be found. The fruitlessness of it all.

At that first vulnerable, terrified glance, she’s already staring at him, eyes catching like hooks.

He blinks once, twice—color—is sure he can hear the movement of his eyelashes passing through the air, the stick of his lids meeting—color—bright. This is it.

That wash of heat turns into a blaze, every single bead of sweat blooming on his brow is a tell evaporating into the ether. This is what he’d sensed from the start of the evening. Maybe even from the moment he’d seen that split maple.

“My mother always said I needed to be stronger, bolder, not so sensitive.” She looks away from him now. “I grew up in an angry house where you had to fight tooth and nail not to be overrun. Because of this, I left it at a very young age, and it was the greatest fight I could muster, abandoning that house of anger. I found myself something to bring me what I thought would be joy, a job and a city, and for a time, it was enough. But starting your lonely life so young…it’s hard.” After a pause of breath, “It’s been hard.”

“And it’s made me never want to have to—exert myself,” she says, searching for the right words, smiling when she finds them, and Joel has the urgency to smile back. “Now, I never want to have to be strong. I never want to have to try. I want to only be the way that I am. If that’s weak or sensitive or whatever it might be at any given moment, I don’t care. I don’t want to have to fight. I never want to be in an angry house again. I want someone who’ll see this in me and understand and never make me work for it, that they would give it to me willingly, easily, without me having to ask. Do you understand?” She looks about the room, and he hopes her eyes will land on him again, and even though they don’t, he feels she’s speaking directly to him. He nods, the hook of her temptation cast beneath his chin. “This is a fantasy. And it makes for a lonely existence. This idea of how I need it to be for it to be right—love.” She looks down at her hands folded atop the podium where they go to stand at the front of the group and share, and he wills her gaze to find him amidst the crowd again. “It’s so difficult. And this might seem very bad to you, weak willed, but it’s not. It’s only very honest. Which can never be a bad way to be.” That’s why she’s here, she tells them.

Finally, she looks back at him, and it’s that loneliness of two people amidst a crowd, facing one another, knowing themselves mirrored against the other and yet still disparate. There’s something indecent about the way she looks at him in front of all these people, the way he, in turn, looks back. A little bit like finding your own face on a stranger's body in a crowded room. Color rises to his face, and she gives him that same elusive smile from before.

He’s the one to look away this time.

As the crowd disperses for coffee and pastries after the last of the speakers, he searches for her. He needs to ask her name, feels as if he’s some blighted creature without it, swears he’ll never forgo attention during a meeting again if he can fish it out of her.

He finds her at the dessert table, Maria at her side and a hand at her shoulder. Something of a thank you is being imparted between the two women. The girl is saying she’s grateful for the welcome, grateful that they’d found each other.

Joel has things to be grateful to Maria for, too. His brother, mainly. It’d been pure chance that Joel had met her here, that she knew Tommy also. She’d met his brother on a summer trek to Wyoming where they’d become friends and had kept in touch afterwards. The woman has a thing about her that ingratiates people by sheer force of will. Perhaps it’s that she’s an alpha, too. Perhaps it’s just the charisma and wide smile. The fact that she has a countenance that takes no shit from anyone, that makes demands of a person whether they’ve got any give or not. But whatever the case, they’d realize their connection through Tommy, and she kept Joel updated on his brother whom he’d not spoken with in many years.

Watching the two women stand together and share that easy thanks that Joel so urgently owes, and yet which he cannot voice, he feels, suddenly, so angry. So awkward. So humiliatingly inexperienced. So unable to grapple with the pain of human contact, the fascination of it, the humiliating necessity.

That decade old anchor weighing him in place and the guilt of even thinking of it as such.

I feel decrepitly alone and odd, he thinks. And how strange, no? He was a normal man. He has a normal job. He lives in a normal house. Unexceptional in every sense. Everything in his life had been ordinary up until that one great tragedy. And then, as if none of the before had ever existed, it was as if everything afterwards was one great landslide of wrongness. The filth of it slinging mud all over his life so that nothing had ever been right after her.

So that now he cannot even approach this girl whose name he needs to know, and Maria, to whom he owes the last surviving connection to his brother.

As Maria turns to go, she gives him an encouraging nod, sending him into an agony of shyness. She’d sensed him hovering.

The girl remains at the dessert table, perusing the pastries. He can see her fingertips dancing over the golden, sugared confections, before she settles on a plain, glazed donut. He watches the bend of her elbow, bringing it to her mouth and thirty seconds later, the empty hand reaching for a napkin. He can’t help the huff of laughter it draws from him.

Watching the unknown creature with her back turned, he peers down the length of himself. Wood stain marred t-shirt, old work jeans and scuffed boots, he’d come straight from the shop. Looking back at her, she seems perfectly packaged and pristine. The two of them, different as chalk and cheese. He tells himself he shouldn’t do it, turn around and go, leave her alone, as he steps up beside her at the table.

Immediately, there’s the heat of her skin, the smell of her shampoo, and he realizes, and it’s silly because it should’ve been obvious from the get go, she’s an omega. The epiphany, not that she is one, but that he’d been too stupid and oblivious to notice, leaves him feeling vulnerable and angry.

Any sort of hello that’d been coming alive on his tongue immediately dies. And he’s about to make a run for it once again when she speaks up from beside him, “Would you like a donut?” Her small fingers are dancing over the pastries, searching once again. “I haven’t had one yet,” she lies, “I can’t decide which looks best.”

The dancing hand pauses over a golden brown puff pastry, seemingly coming to a decision, when she turns to look up at him. The scent of her isn’t just shampoo, not just the blockers he’d shockingly picked up on before, sharp, burning his nose. It’s her skin now, too. The dry sweat from hustling under her coat to make it to her first meeting on time salted along her limbs. Hot, sweet almonds. The shocking vermillion of the morning’s split maple comes to mind. He can smell her.

“A puff pastry?” She presses, quizzical crook to her brow at his silence and glower. “I think you really need something sweet. It’ll make you feel better.”

He wants to agree, to say he also thinks he needs something sweet. All he can manage is a short grunt because she smells…indescribable. Honeyed musk, something heady, like she herself had just got done baking, straight out of the oven and full of sugar into his waiting mouth.

That earlier anger, it kicks up a notch. Why isn’t he fucking saying anything?

She shrugs, as she lifts the puff pastry to her mouth he finally manages sound.

“You stink.”

He doesn’t know when he became such a liar.

A pause, mouth open, straight, white teeth ready to bite into the fluffy sweet bread. He can see her small, pink tongue, and it makes him go a little woozy.

He might be losing his mind.

She’s got elegant eyebrows that shoot straight up her smooth forehead. The look of her skin is glorious. “Excuse me?”

Now, there seem to be too many words spilling out of his mouth. “You need better meds or somethin’. Need to sort your shit out. Can’t go gallivanting about the world smellin’ like that.” Oh god, shut up.

“Excuse me!” She takes a huge bite of the pastry. “I do not gallivant,” she shoots back, mouth full of sugar and Joel goes hot everywhere. “What is wrong with you?” she demands, the pursing of a prim little mouth as she chews, eyeing him maliciously.

He hasn’t the damndest clue.

She is not wary of him in the slightest, which in turn tells him he needs to be wary of her.

Another large bite, inexplicably she extends her free hand towards him—potentially going into shock and entirely out of his depth when he takes it, the vulnerability of tendon and muscle soft beneath his strength—offering him a firm shake. She gives him her name.

In that moment, she has a look about her that tells him she’ll bite back if he isn’t careful, even if she hurts herself in the process.

And now he knows you.

“We might as well acquaint ourselves if you’re going to insult me. Don’t you think?” Peering up at him, he’s tall, well over six feet, and broad shouldered. Older, distinguished, but in a rough way, hewn oak, gray. “Are you typically this rude? Or is this a special occasion?”

Incredibly handsome.

“I’m being serious.”

“I do not stink. No one has ever said that to me, and my blockers are quality. It must be a you problem.” The puff pastry really is very good. And this man really is very handsome. Coming here today was a good idea.

One of the girls from the theater had suggested it, handing you a pamphlet with Looking for the Cure for Loneliness? emblazoned across the top, and even though she’d done it kindly, any other person would’ve taken the implication as an insult. Hey girl! No offense, but we all in the company think you’re super weird and have you heard about this support group for losers? Kind of like Omegas Anonymous!

Those hadn’t been her exact words, and you hadn’t taken offense. After the initial agony of embarrassment, you’d warmed to the idea. You’d heard of groups like these before. Congregations of demi humans where one could come to find community or connection. Be it socializing or support for people struggling with their designations and all that they implied, they served their purpose. And anyways, you weren’t in a position to be nitpicky.

It’s true, you’re alone.

So alone, in fact, that even the people around you could tell. Strangers, coworkers, your roommate and her girlfriend. Like some noxious cloud of loneliness following you around virtue signaling the desperate need for love and companionship and understanding you’re so in need of.

You increasingly saw yourself as a dancer on her toes, trembling delicately all over, vying desperately to survive to the end of the song. A monster with too many heads. A Cerberus of the richest caliber.

Two or three would’ve been acceptable—heads—but you'd long surpassed that and moved on to something unrecognizable and unpleasant. Desperately in need of a solution.

“Maybe you’re the one that stinks. Maybe it’s your upper lip.” And voila, the monster makes her debut.

“My—” The rude alpha, obvious, that one, lets out a choked sound, a deeper wash of color immediately flooding his cheeks. You dip your head sideways, appraising him as you polish off your second pastry. He has pretty bone structure, masculine, and after he’s done choking and spluttering, he can’t help but laugh a little bit. You see it.

Beneath a mouth that looks forbidding, perhaps even a little cruel, you can sense that he is not an unkind man.

Yet you’re not so green that you can’t recognize the gnawing hunger of loneliness in others. There’s always a reason people find themselves in places like these. His face, edged with the weariness of age, makes this obvious. He has good reason for subjecting himself to this.

Reaching for the lovely eclair you’d been deciding between earlier, you take a large bite of it. Almond cream and a thick layer of icing on top, humming happily as you chew while he stares at you like the three headed dog.

You hold the dessert out towards him, offering. Palm up, he shakes his head no, slightly disgusted look on his face.

“So. You come here often?”

He blinks. “Really?” Patronizing look on his face now.

“Why not? I am actually interested to know if this is worth my time.”

He rolls his eyes. Oh, he’s fun. “Yes, I come here often. Every Friday, for the past two months just about.”

“And you like it?”

“Is this the sort of place one likes?”

“Oh, come on. You never know what you might find.” He watches your mouth as you finish the eclair, swallowing hard. “Anyways, I think the world is kind of over out there. Don’t you? Might as well make the best of it in here.”

Thumb pressed against the edge of the table, he looks down, suddenly awash with shyness once again. A shy alpha, who’d of thought.

“What did you used to do?” He asks, motioning at the crowded room full of chatting alphas and omegas. You wonder how many of them will go home together for a fuck after this.

“When?” You ask, sure he means in lieu of this group, if you’d ever had another form of demi human community.

“Before this.”

“Before this? Nothing.” Smiling at him, certain he isn’t picking up on your teasing.

“Nothing?”

“Nope. I’ve always been here.”

“But— Don’t you…I thought...” He’s cute, shaking his head like you’re just too confusing to sustain. “You sing, right?” He pivots.

“Sing? Me? Whatever made you think such a thing?” The sly look on your face goes completely over his head and slides to the rest of the sweets. If he wasn’t watching, you’d have another.

“You said. You said you’re in the opera,” he gruffs back, looking visibly aggravated now.

Such fun.

“I’m a supernumerary,” you concede as you turn, making your way to an old relic of a pew along the far wall, tragically abandoning the desserts.

He follows as you go, sitting a respectful distance beside you.

“I don’t know what that is.”

“We’re the actors that fill the stage at the opera.”

“No singing?”

You shake your head, flirting with him. “I’m a wench, I’m a courtesan,” You bat your lashes, fingertips pressed coquettishly beneath your chin, “Part of a harem. I’m every woman you’ve never known. It depends on the opera.”

“I’ve never heard of that before.”

“I started as a stagehand when I first got to Boston. Worked my way up.”

“How’s it work? Lines or somethin’?”

“No lines. No anything. I’m a background actor—an extra, basically. If anything, I’m given some simple choreography direction, laugh, sigh, show fear, horror, shock. Whatever. I’m playing pretend without actually having to do anything.”

“No working for it.”

Your smile melts to blandness. So he’d been listening, then.

“Did you want to sing?”

“No. I wanted to be a supernumerary.”

“Strange. I’ve never heard of that,” he repeats.

“You did say, yes.” Now, the smile turns auspicious. Everyone’s here for something. “What do you do?” Perhaps this is it for him.

You eye the rest of the congregation, at the far exit, there’s a large alpha helping an omega into his coat.

“Got a shop, furniture, woodworking and such.”

“You make things?” He nods. “Ah, a man of creation.”

Sitting back to take him in, he’s got the beginning insinuations of silver speckling the dark hair at his temples, a well groomed beard, and large, intimidating hands.

His small huff of laughter is bashful, tinged with something disappointed. “No, nothin’ that grand.” And he’s got an accent heavy at the ends of his words, not Bostonian. Southern.

“But you know, I wanted to say…”

“Yes?” You press when he loses his courage, leaning towards him, inhaling deeply.

“Well, that I know what you meant earlier. Sometimes I can be the angry house.”

You blink once. Sit back. “I see.”

“It’s hard work. I have to try every day at it.”

Hard work being the house, or not? Two opposite sides of the same coin.

“How do you stop yourself?” You cast a line, fishing for his character.

“Don’t know. Keep myself cold, I think.”

“That’s no way to be.”

“No. It’s not.” He sounds amused. You want to bite him.

Everyone’s here for a reason.

“Ah, well. Perhaps that’s what’s brought you here then,” you say, twisting the toe of your sneaker against a scuff on the old hardwood, leaning forward on your palms wrapped around the edge of the pew.

“Maybe,” he says, but a sort of pained, exasperated sound follows it. Your hung head turns to peer at the handsome face, and he’s already looking at you.

There’s something animal afoot. Perhaps in terms of designation, sure, of course, like the rest of the alphas and omegas here. Your designations weigh heavily in the air. But also intrinsic to your two personalities. You feel you know him. That the two of you might have the same sorts of problems, desires. And as you stare at him, you think you may be equally measuring each other’s character, finding that similarity in one another.

His eyes move quickly between yours, over your face, and you can tell that prolonged eye contact isn’t his norm.

He has the most surprising set of bright hazel eyes like river stones.

Suddenly, you feel desperate to pull out a flicker of sexuality in the man, hear it in his voice. Sure, that with him, the experience would be entirely different, exhilarating. Perhaps a challenge. He seems to be more quiet and more patient than any other man you’d ever come across, but also more stern—taking in that soft mouth held so firmly. Far more remote too, by the far away look in his gaze. You want to see how he could be moved and what the sight of it would look like.

“Maybe not,” he finally continues. “I’m looking for something, I think.”

“Something like what?”

“Someone like me.”

“An alpha?”

“No,” he looks away, cringing. The word out loud seems a shock to him. “Did you listen to the woman at the start—missing the bad thing? I struggle…with that. Holding on, not letting go even when I know I should.”

You’re at an age now which sometimes makes it hard to realize or accept that what you’re living is your life. That it’s been time to grow up. That you have to remember to move forward when it’s your turn in line.

Which is to say, that you understand him—the difficulties of knowing when to hold on and when to give up.

“Sometimes you hurt yourself because you don’t have anything else to do. Sometimes, because the alternative is much worse.”

“Holding on ‘cause there’s nothing else to do?”

“Sure. Or you’re used to it.” You’ll be gentle with him, you decide. He’s in need of gentle handling despite the stern face; not a puzzle so arbitrarily solved. And those eyes are still so bright, he doesn’t seem like he needs any more hardship.

“Don’t know why I’m tellin’ you this,” he says, accent heavy.

“Well you did come here for a reason. Didn’t you?” Discreetly, you slide closer to his side, but he doesn’t notice. Apparently lost in the realization that perhaps this was what he’d come here for, to talk to someone, to have someone listen and relate. You’re almost positive he’s never gotten up to share with the group before in all his time coming to the meetings; doesn’t look like the type.

“I came here because I’m going to take better care of myself,” you tell him. “I’m going to try harder.”

“Harder at what?” He blinks as if attempting to come out of a dream.

“Everything. I don’t want to end up like my parents; drunk, angry, alone. I’m scared of it. I’ve avoided at least two of them.”

“I’m afraid of getting older,” the dream moves in his eyes. “That I’ll forget,” he says, but you don’t ask what.

All of a sudden, he seems very real. The swells of grief and loneliness moving through him so similarly, so close to the surface.

Springing up, you turn to face him and he follows to stand too. You can hear the crack of his knees unfolding, and when he lifts his left palm to stifle a gruff cough, the band of gold around his finger is paralyzing.

All of a sudden, he’d seemed like what you’d been looking for here too. There’s laughter coming from the church rafters.

“You’re a widower?” He wants to forget, he’d said he wants to let go.

Hadn’t he?

But instead, “What? No.” You stare pointedly at the ring, and he looks down at it also. “No,” he repeats.

“So’re you looking for a fuck, or what?” You try and hold back the bite it comes with, but you can’t.

“No. No. That’s not what I’m looking for.”

You don’t understand, impaired by your youth, you forget you’d chosen to be gentle with him. “Maybe it’s what you need,” you tell him, turning towards the exit before you can watch him cringe.

He follows at your heels, grabbing his coat from the hook by the doors before he’s stepping out after you into the fall blister. It’s cold and wet and glorious out.

“Don’t you have a coat?” He demands.

“Nope.” You start walking towards Arlington Street and the park.

“Did you walk here? It’s freezing out.”

“I did,” you turn back towards him, still moving, and he starts to follow.

“From where?”

“Downtown.”

“Where?” He scowls at your uncooperation, the married man. Alpha. The truth was that he’d smelt strange to you too. Like no one ever had before. As glorious and shocking as the cold. Like if snow had a scent. Disappointment churns in your gut alongside the excitement at the sight of him stalking after you.

“I don’t think you know it.” Your backward walk is interrupted as a hurrying stranger bumps into you, sending you staggering. Watch it, the Boston snark spits. The alpha turns to scowl, heavy boot forward like he’s half a mind to follow after the person you’ve just inadvertently assaulted.

And it occurs to you, “You didn’t tell me your name.” How silly of you. You’d been so distracted you’d forgotten to ask, and what if you never see him again after this? What if you can’t muster the courage to come back again next week? What if he can’t?

“It’s Joel.”

You think it sounds right.

“I might—know it.” Where you’re headed to. You smile at the dog with a bone. The disappointment pulses. “Is it far?” He presses. You shrug, looking over your shoulder. You’re going to lose yourself in the garden for a few hours, forget about him. “Why don’t you drive?”

“I like to walk,” you tell him, turning back.

He looks at you like he doesn’t like the things you say much less the way you say them much less the way you’re grinning at him. Perhaps he can see the disappointment and is disturbed by the sight of it, but the possibility seems too altruistic.

“You should try it sometime, Joel. You might like it too.”

His huge body seems to be shivering in the cold.

“I think…” The look on his face has turned suspicious now. He takes a step towards you. “You’re very strange. And you’re very young. I don’t think we should be friends.”

Your heart gives a demanding thump. “We’re not going to be friends.” When you’d first spotted him in the crowd, the strangest feeling had come over you. A tug behind your belly button, a scalding heat at the back of your neck, at your wrists. Perhaps it’s merely imagination, the look of disappointment you think you see on his face right before you turn away from him to continue on walking. “And I’m not that young anymore.”

You’d known today was going to be a good day. Extra cinnamon in your latte, a late start to your morning, warm in bed, no rain in the sky despite the cloud cover. And your director, late for rehearsals after some freak accident had befallen the roof of his house.

“That’s what all young people say.”

Part 2;

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

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#busy dying fic #vic fic #joel miller fanficition #the last of us au #joel miller x you #joel miller

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creamflix · 1 month ago

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nanami kento x female reader; 18+ content, minors and ageless blogs do not interact. established relationship, housewife reader. heavy heavy (!!) corruption kink, gaslighting, guiltripping. squirting, oral (f. receiving), dumbification, bimbofication, overstimulation. dirty-talk, degradation, humilation, praise. alluded dubcon. — masterlist here ☆ part one here

"darling, have you ever thought about taking things to the next step?"

kento’s deep voice breaks the comfortable silence of your shared bed, the late-night glow barely illuminating the room. you feel the warmth of his chest against your back, his strong arms wrapped around you as he pulls you closer, seeking the comfort that only your presence can give him after a long, exhausting day. the question, however, lingers in the air, catching you completely off-guard.

"n-next step?" your voice squeaks out, betraying you with its nervousness. your face heats up, and your heart races as your mind races, trying to make sense of what your husband means. you can’t help but wonder if there’s something more behind those words, something deeper. is he suggesting something... intimate? your body reacts, a wave of warmth spreading through you, making your skin tingle.

kento chuckles softly at your flustered response, his large hand brushing a few strands of hair away from your face. "yes," he murmurs, his voice low and careful, as though he’s testing the waters. "in the sense that… we can try something different during our time together."

his tone is gentle, but there’s a weight behind it, something unspoken that makes you tense. your mind swirls, imagining what ‘different’ might mean. "d-different?" you stammer, feeling ridiculous at how shy you sound, but the thought of what he might be implying has your nerves on edge. you chew on your lower lip, trying to figure out how to respond without sounding insecure. "is… our current way of doing things not satisfying you enough?" your voice is barely above a whisper as you turn your face to glance at him, a hint of insecurity creeping into your words.

kento groans quietly at your question, his grip tightening around you just slightly. the truth couldn’t be further from what you feared. he loves every second with you, every tender touch, every slow, loving moment. but lately, there’s been this hunger inside him, something darker and primal, that wants to see you in a different light — wants to feel you give in completely to him, your sweet and obedient self, pliant under his control.

“you’re perfect, darling,” he whispers, his hand moving to cup your face, his thumb brushing your cheek tenderly. but there’s a tension in the way he holds you, an edge to his voice that makes your heart skip a beat. "it’s not about satisfaction," he adds, his lips brushing the top of your head. "i just want to explore more with you. i think we could… enjoy ourselves in new ways."

his words are sweet, but the way he’s holding you now — his hand on your face just a little too firm, his grip on your waist a little too tight — sends a different message. his usually soft, reassuring gaze holds something darker tonight, something intense, almost predatory. it’s like he’s restraining himself, keeping that side of him locked away, waiting for you to give him permission to unleash it.

your breath catches as his hand slides down to your chin, tilting your face toward his. you can feel the heat of his body, his pulse steady yet intense. "you trust me, don’t you?" he murmurs, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. his voice, deep and low, sends shivers down your spine.

“o-of course,” you stammer, your heart hammering in your chest as you look into his eyes. but the way he’s staring at you now, there’s something… more. something possessive. you can feel it in the way his thumb presses into your skin, not enough to hurt, but enough to make your pulse quicken. you’ve never seen this side of him before — at least, not so overtly.

kento leans down, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that starts soft but quickly becomes more insistent. his tongue slides against yours, his hand cradling the back of your head as he deepens the kiss, making your body melt into his. you can feel the intensity of his need in the way he’s kissing you, his desire to take control bubbling just beneath the surface.

"i want to take care of you in every way," he murmurs against your lips, his voice rougher now, more demanding. "but sometimes… i just want to take you, darling. make you mine in a way that’s… rougher." his words send a thrill through your body, and despite your nerves, you can’t help the way your thighs squeeze together at the thought.

his lips brush over your cheek, down to your neck, and you shudder as his breath warms your skin. “you’d let me, wouldn’t you? let me ravage my sweet little wife, hmm?” his voice is a low growl now, his hand moving to the small of your back, pressing you closer against him. “i know you’d take it so well, wouldn’t you?”

you can feel his restraint slipping, the tension in his muscles as he holds back from doing exactly what he wants. his fingers dig into your skin, just enough to make you gasp. “don’t be shy,” he coos, his breath hot against your ear. “i know you’re curious. let me show you, darling. i’ll take such good care of you… even when i’m being rough.”

his words stir something inside you, a heat that spreads through your chest, and you nod, your voice barely above a whisper. "okay…"

and that’s all the permission he needs.

"i’m gonna need you to turn around for me, sweet thing. you can do that for me, won’t you?” nanami's voice is thick, dripping with anticipation as he watches you, his eyes burning with desire. the sight of you, all flushed and innocent, makes his heart race, and he can barely hold himself back as he waits for you to move.

"like this?" your voice is a little shaky as you shift onto your stomach, pressing your chest against the bed, your silk nightgown riding up just enough to expose the soft curve of your hips. his anniversary gift to you clings to your body, doing nothing to hide the way your folds glisten with that sweet, sticky slick he knows so well. nanami groans, the sound deep and guttural, as his hand runs over your lower back, feeling the way you tremble under his touch.

"yeah, just like that," he murmurs, his voice low and rough as he kneels behind you. his gaze is locked onto the way your body moves, the way your thighs clench together in nervous anticipation. "god, you look perfect, darling," he adds, his hands moving to your hips, his fingers digging in just a little as he guides you into position.

your legs shake as you settle, your knees pressing into the bed, your ass lifted up in the air just the way he likes it. nanami licks his lips, his mouth practically watering as he gets a full view of your dripping folds, slick with arousal. he leans forward, his breath ghosting over your sensitive skin, and you let out a soft whimper, your body twitching as he inches closer.

"feels w-weird," you murmur, your voice shaky as you glance back at him, your eyes wide and unsure. your cheeks burn with embarrassment, and you can’t help the way your body tenses, the unfamiliar position making you feel exposed.

but nanami just hums, barely paying attention to your words. "it's not weird, sweetheart," he says, his tone soft, almost condescending, as his large hand gently wraps around the back of your neck, guiding your head down to the pillow. "you're just not used to being taken like this… but i promise, you’ll love it." his fingers tighten ever so slightly, grounding you in place as he lowers himself between your thighs.

his hot breath against your folds makes you shiver, and the heat of his mouth soon follows, pressing against your cunt. your breath hitches, a high-pitched whine escaping your lips as he takes his first taste of you, his tongue dragging slowly through your slick. "god, you taste so good," he groans, his voice muffled by the way his mouth is buried between your legs.

your little whimpers fill the room as his tongue works against you, his lips sealing around your clit as he sucks gently, drawing out a soft cry from your throat. his grip on your neck tightens, keeping you in place as your hips squirm, trying to move away from the overwhelming sensation.

"stay still," nanami growls, his voice rougher now, a warning laced in his words. "i’m just getting started." his mouth works faster, his tongue flicking over your swollen nub as he devours you, ignoring your shaky protests as the pleasure builds, your slick coating his chin. every time you try to pull away, his hold on you tightens, forcing you to stay put, to take what he’s giving you.

"but… it feels too much," you whimper, your voice cracking as you try to lift yourself up, only for nanami to press you down harder, his hand firm around your neck.

"shhh, darling," he murmurs, his voice softening just a little, though it’s laced with something darker, something almost cruel. "you're doing so well for me. just let go… let me take care of you. you trust me, don’t you?" his tongue presses harder against you, drawing tight circles over your clit that make you tremble beneath him.

your body betrays you, hips grinding against his face as you moan into the pillow. "y-yes, kento," you stutter, your head spinning as you try to hold onto some semblance of control, but his words sink into your mind, making you doubt your own discomfort. maybe he’s right. maybe you’re just not used to this.

"good girl," he murmurs approvingly, his voice vibrating against your cunt as he goes back to his task, his tongue pushing deeper, sliding through your folds, tasting every inch of you. "you can take it, can’t you?" he coos, his hand moving from your neck to your hip, pulling you closer against his face as if he can’t get enough.

and you do, you try so hard to take it, your body shaking with the intensity of it all. but it’s so much, too much, and your mind feels hazy, lost in the overwhelming pleasure. "please," you cry out, your fingers digging into the sheets as you squirm beneath him, trying to catch your breath. "i don’t… i don’t know if i can —"

"you can," nanami interrupts, his voice firm, brooking no argument. "you’ll take it, because you’re my good girl, aren’t you?" he asks, his tone sweet yet manipulative, pulling you deeper into his control. "you don’t want to disappoint me, do you?"

his words send a thrill down your spine, a strange mix of pleasure and guilt twisting in your gut as you nod weakly. "n-no, kento…" you whisper, feeling the weight of his expectations press down on you, making you want to please him, to do exactly what he wants.

"that's right," he murmurs against your soaked folds, his lips curving into a smirk as he watches your body give in. "just relax… and let me make you feel good." his tongue dips inside you once more, pushing you closer to the edge, and all you can do is moan and whimper, lost in the haze of pleasure and his sweet, twisted words.

your thoughts are sluggish, a blissful haze clouding your mind, but that sharp smack! to your ass snaps you back to reality. your body jerks at the unexpected hit, a startled sob escaping your lips as the sting spreads across your skin. "k-kento!" you stammer, your voice shaking as tears well up in your eyes, the sudden roughness leaving you confused. you try to push yourself up, to pull away from him, but he holds you firmly in place, his grip on your hips tightening. your silk nightgown clings to your damp skin, sticking to you as if mocking how easily you've come undone under his touch.

“mm, what’s wrong, darling?” nanami’s voice is dark, condescending, laced with something that sends a shiver down your spine. he barely pauses as his mouth continues to suckle on your swollen clit, his teeth grazing the sensitive nub, making you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure. “thought you liked when i touched you like this. am i wrong, sweetheart? or are you just pretending?” his tone is so sweet, but the words sting, making your heart race as you frantically try to shake your head, even though your body betrays you, hips still twitching against his face.

you sob again, your body trembling, tears staining the pillow beneath you as you desperately try to shift away from his relentless hold. surely, surely he’ll understand, right? this is too much, too fast — he’s never been this rough with you before, never slapped your ass like you were nothing more than a common whore. your soft whimpers fill the room as you squirm under him, but he just chuckles against your cunt, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure through your body.

"oh no, baby… you're not running away from me," nanami coos, his voice dripping with faux concern as his hand comes down hard on your ass again, the sharp smack! echoing in the room. the sting leaves you gasping, your legs trembling as he gropes your tender skin, kneading it roughly between his fingers. “not when i’m having so much fun with you.” his lips curl into a smirk as he watches you struggle, his eyes dark and hungry, and god, it’s almost like he’s enjoying this — the way you’re fighting against your own pleasure, against the way your body reacts to his every touch.

you try to protest, your voice breaking with every sob, but the words don’t come out right. they’re messy, slurred, and barely intelligible as you choke out, “i-it’s t-too much…” your voice trails off as another sob bubbles up, but nanami just clicks his tongue in mock disapproval, pulling away from your cunt only to slap your ass again, his hand leaving a hot, stinging mark.

"shh, shh," he hushes you, his voice so gentle it almost makes your heart ache. "you're doing so well, sweetheart. don't be dramatic." he nuzzles his face back between your thighs, licking a slow, torturous stripe up your folds. “besides, good housewives don’t run away from their husbands, do they?” his words are soft, coaxing, and you can feel the weight of guilt settling in your chest as he speaks.

you don’t want to disappoint him, not after all the love and care he’s shown you. you’re his good little wife, the one who’s supposed to please him, to make him happy. you can’t let him down now, can you? not when he’s telling you how good you are, how perfect you are for him.

"i’m only doing this because i know you can take it," he says, his voice dripping with sickening sweetness as his hand gropes your ass again, squeezing the tender flesh while his mouth returns to your needy cunt, tongue flicking over your clit. "don’t you want to make me happy, darling? you’re such a good girl for me…"his words twist in your mind, making you second-guess yourself, filling you with that familiar sense of guilt. he’s right, isn’t he? you should be able to take this, you should want to make him happy. "i-i do," you stutter, your voice shaky and broken as you try to steady yourself, to focus on pleasing him like a good wife should.

“i knew you would,” nanami praises, his voice dark and dripping with satisfaction as his fingers dig deeper into your skin, holding you firmly in place. “you’d never disappoint me, right, sweetheart?” he asks, his tongue flicking faster, his teeth grazing your sensitive nub again. “because that’s what good housewives do, after all. they make their husbands happy.”

your mind spins, overwhelmed by the mix of pleasure and guilt. you don’t want to let him down, even though your body screams for release from the intensity. he wants this from you, and you — his sweet, pliant little wife — will give it to him.

your sobs turn into soft, helpless whimpers as nanami continues his relentless assault on your cunt, his hands groping your ass, his mouth working you over until your mind goes blank. all you can think about is making him proud, pleasing him, being the good girl he needs you to be.

nanami pulls away for just a moment, his mouth glistening with your essence, and the sudden absence of his tongue leaves you reeling. your mind is a hazy jumble of conflicting desires — you want him to continue, to ravage you until you can’t think straight, but at the same time, there’s a strange heat curling in your lower belly that feels almost painful. it’s confusing, and you can’t quite articulate what you need, but your whimpers fill the room.

“k-kento,” you stammer, trying to catch your breath. “it... it feels weird.” your voice is soft, shaky, and you glance over your shoulder at him, hoping he’ll understand. the look on his face is amused, but there’s something darker behind his eyes, something that sends another thrill of excitement through you.

“oh, sweetheart,” he tuts, shaking his head as he runs his fingers over the bruises he’s left on your ass, tracing the tender skin. each gentle touch sends a shiver down your spine, the sting pulling you momentarily out of the throbbing heat that’s building within you. “you’re just not used to it yet, are you?” he says, feigning concern as his fingers dip lower, teasingly close to where you want him most. “but don’t worry. i’m here to help you with that.”

you whimper again, the heat in your belly intensifying, and you can feel the slickness pooling between your thighs, almost dripping onto the bedsheets. it’s enough to drive him wild, the sight of you like this — so desperate, so needy, and all because of him. “look at that,” he murmurs, his voice low and filled with satisfaction. “you’re already making a mess, baby. and you didn’t even know you wanted it this bad.”

the humiliation washes over you in waves, but there’s also something intoxicating about it. the way he looks at you, the way he’s so sure of your desires, makes your heart race. “i didn’t mean to…” you try to protest, but your words fall flat, the need pooling in your belly making it hard to think.

“didn’t mean to what?” he asks, his tone teasing as he pushes your legs apart, exposing you fully to his gaze. “didn’t mean to be such a good girl? or didn’t mean to make such a pretty little mess?” his fingers brush against your folds, teasingly slow, and you can’t help the way your body responds, hips instinctively pushing toward him, seeking more.

“both,” you whimper, your voice trembling. but deep down, you know you’re lying. you want to be good for him, want to feel every bit of his attention on you. and as he leans in closer, his breath warm against your slickness, you know you’re trapped in this web he’s spun — caught between pleasure and pain, between wanting to submit and the desperation to be more than what you are.

“you know,” he continues, his voice a smooth purr, “it’s okay to want this, my love. to want me to take you like this.” his fingers tease your slick folds, and you can feel yourself starting to melt under his touch. “you don’t have to pretend anymore. just let go and be a good little housewife.”

the way he says it makes your heart flutter, the words igniting something within you that makes you want to surrender completely. you nod, though the heat in your belly feels overwhelming. “i-i want to be good for you, kento…” your voice is barely above a whisper, and his smirk widens at your admission.

“that’s my girl,” he praises, his fingers slipping lower, circling your entrance with a teasing slowness that makes you whine. “now, let’s see how well you can take it.” he pushes a finger inside you, and the sensation sends shockwaves through your body. “and remember, sweetheart, it’s all about trust. you trust me, don’t you?”

“y-yes,” you breathlessly reply, knowing you should feel ashamed, but all you can think about is how good it feels to submit to him, how right it feels to give in to the heat building inside you. with every movement, he’s taking you further down the path he’s set, and somehow, you can’t help but follow him.

the pressure in your lower belly intensifies, morphing into that familiar, overwhelming urge to pee. panic sets in as you feel the heat pooling dangerously close to the point of no return. “k-kento, please stop,” you whimper, trying to catch your breath, but the desperate tone in your voice only seems to encourage him.

“stop?” he echoes, a teasing lilt to his voice as he dives deeper into your slick folds. “but sweet thing, you’re just getting started. you can’t be telling me you’re ready to quit now.” he flicks your nub with his tongue, each movement driving you further into a haze of pleasure mixed with panic.

“n-no, really, i need to —” you cry out, but the words fall away as he resumes his relentless assault, fingers and tongue working in perfect harmony against you. the way he handles you feels almost cruel, pushing you closer to the edge while you’re begging him to pull back. “i can’t — please, i don’t want to —”

“you don’t want to what?” he taunts, the pressure in your belly mounting. “pee? is that what my little housewife is afraid of? come on, don’t be shy.” he grips your ass tighter, fingers digging in almost painfully, forcing you to feel every bit of the humiliation coursing through you. “you’re such a needy little thing, aren’t you? all that sweet slick just begging for attention. who knew you’d turn out to be such a filthy girl?”

his words only heightens your arousal, the conflicting sensations spinning you into a frenzy. you’re crying now, tears staining the pillow beneath you as you squirm, desperately trying to hold it all together. “kento, please… i don’t want to do that to you,” you sob, your voice cracking under the strain.

“what kind of husband would i be if i let you hold back?” he replies, his voice a mix of mockery and lust. “just let it go, sweet thing. i’ll take care of you. you know i will.”

his words are like a trigger, and you can’t help but feel your body betraying you. the pressure finally builds to an unbearable level, and in one split second, everything blurs. your body arches against his, and as if on cue, you squirt, the warm release spilling over him as your mind goes blank.

“there you go,” he murmurs, watching the way you lose yourself in that moment, pleasure and humiliation crashing over you in waves. “such a good girl, letting it all out for me.”

you can’t process anything; it’s as if time stands still. all you know is the intense heat of your orgasm and the way your body shakes as you surrender to the pleasure, feeling utterly lost in a world where you’re just his — completely at his mercy.

you blink slowly, your body slowly stirring as the soft glow of the morning light filters through the curtains. your mind feels heavy, like it's clawing its way back to reality, and the familiar scent of kento grounds you. his strong arms are wrapped around you, pulling you closer, and his voice — so calm, so sweet — cuts through the lingering haze.

"ah, you're awake," he chuckles, his breath warm against your ear as he holds you tighter. "you fell asleep mid-conversation, love."

your heart skips a beat, the fog in your mind parting slightly. mid-conversation? you think, but something feels off. it takes a moment for your brain to catch up. everything that happened before — the slaps, the biting, the way he degraded you... it felt so real. but now, looking at him, holding you so tenderly, his face filled with nothing but love and adoration, the confusion creeps in.

was it just a dream?

you bite your lip, feeling a sense of guilt creep up your spine. you can't ask him that. what kind of wife would accuse her loving husband of something so horrible? of course it was a dream. why else would he be so sweet right now? you can’t help but feel ashamed for even thinking that something so disturbing could have happened. you’ve known kento for years. he's gentle, loving, patient. he would never treat you like that.

yet, there’s a nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach. as much as you want to brush it off, your body remembers too vividly. your skin tingles where his hands had been rough, and your thighs ache as if they’d been held down too long. but that’s impossible… right?

"you okay?" kento’s voice brings you back to the present, his brow furrowed slightly as he looks down at you with concern. "you seem a bit off."

"n-no, i’m fine," you quickly stammer, forcing a smile. "just a weird dream, i guess…" your words trail off, your voice barely steady. a weird dream? you’re not even sure if that’s true anymore, but you can’t ask him. you can't upset him with something that’s likely your own mind playing tricks on you.

kento's expression softens, and he presses a kiss to your forehead, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek. “must’ve been some dream. but don’t worry about it. i’m here now, okay?”

you nod, feeling your heart twist in your chest. why am i doubting him? he’s being so loving, so perfect. god, you’re a terrible wife for even thinking something was wrong, for questioning his intentions. your mind whirls, and you chastise yourself for being paranoid. what kind of wife doesn’t trust her own husband?

you glance down, and your eyes catch the damp spot on the hem of your nightgown, sending a ripple of unease through you. wait, why is it wet? you swallow, your throat tightening as you try to think of an explanation. maybe you knocked over a glass of water in your sleep. that’s it, it has to be. no need to overthink it.

"you sure you’re okay?" kento asks again, pulling you closer, his hand resting on your lower back. too close. "you’re quiet this morning."

you force another smile, pushing the gnawing doubts deep down where they can't surface. "yeah, just… tired. i probably didn’t sleep well."

he hums softly in response, tracing gentle circles on your back. “you work too hard. you’ve always been so anxious about little things, haven’t you?” he says, his voice so caring, so understanding. but it stings. his words hit a sensitive nerve, making you feel like you’re overreacting. “it’s probably nothing, love. you always get worked up over these things, remember?”

god, he’s right. you’ve always been the anxious one, the overthinker. what if it’s all in your head? kento’s never hurt you before, so why would he start now? maybe you did dream it. you’ve been so stressed lately — you’re just imagining things.

"yeah… you're right," you whisper, though the words leave a bitter taste in your mouth. why can’t you just let it go? you can’t keep doubting him, doubting yourself. he’s been nothing but loving, and yet here you are, second-guessing every little thing.

"good girl," kento says, pulling you in closer as if rewarding you for coming to the ‘right’ conclusion. "see? everything’s fine." his hand slips lower, gently caressing the fabric of your nightgown. “you’ll feel better once you relax.”

he’s right, you think, the guilt of your earlier doubts settling like a heavy weight in your chest. why do I always have to overthink things? you don’t want to upset him, you don’t want to be difficult. good wives don’t question their husbands like this.

but as you close your eyes, trying to settle into his embrace, the uneasy feeling refuses to fade entirely. you ignore the lingering wetness at the edge of your gown, forcing yourself to believe it’s just water—because it has to be.

right?

!! aa this was a lot darker than what i usually right (i think?), but i hope you all enjoy. give it a lil' reblog and a comment if ya did＞﹏＜

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r0-boat · 2 months ago

Text

Please please I need him!!

ZZZ Lighter NSFW ALPHABET

Listen I know I'm writing for him before he comes out shut up!! Let me be Delulu and kiss him

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He likes to hold you close and feel up your body, lay his lips on your skin and tell you how good you were. He likes to talk about everything you did to make him cum.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Your hips, something nice to grab onto soft or muscular he doesn't care He likes the feeling of his finger into your soft skin.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He likes to shoot his cum all over you and inside you but what really gets him off something he's kind of embarrassed about is seeing your face covered in his cum. It does things to him.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

One time the two of you play wrestled when you were being a brat and annoying him and he feeling his big hands grasped around your wrists and you're squirming body brushing against his Light got so hard.

It took him hours to calm down. And now all he can think about is manhandling you and pinning you to the ground like a real villain taking you by force with pure strength. It's not something he would ever do to you obviously.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Lighter has had partners before. So he knows what he's doing but he'd rather know what you like come on you can tell him he promises he'll be gentle.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He likes when you sit in his lap His fingers digging into your ass or hips bouncing you up and down, where He can see your whole body and kiss you if he wants to.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He does goof off when he sees how stressed you are. He wants you to enjoy this as much as he is. To make you relax he'll make you laugh maybe crack a joke or two.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He shaves every now and then so he doesn't have to worry about his hair down there for a while when he's on the road or doing something else.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He doesn't do it often but when he does Your heart will be so full to the point of bursting.

His favorites include late night rides under the stars before taking you. Massaging your shoulders before His hands start dipping lower and lower. Drawing you a warm bath and then slipping inside with you when you're not looking.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Lighter masturbates a lot, a lot more than he should. He can't help how he feels about you. Be prepared for a dick pic.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

I can see him like marking. Bite marks and hickeys and he'll make sure people see them. I can also see him liking restraints, Cuffs, rope or his own hands He wants to make sure you're nice and submissive.

He's a bit of a brat tamer as well.

He wants to degrade you but also praise you at the same time.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Doing it somewhere in public like an alleyway getting a rush at the idea of someone walking in on him taking you raw. But don't worry you're pretty little head He knows the outer ring like the back of his hand no one's gonna see you, The only person who gets to hear and see you like this is him.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Anything with risk involved. Something that really gets his adrenaline pumping. Whether it be fucking in public, breeding you, rough housing, or you sending a risky text. Catch him off guard and he'll be at your door in seconds.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He will not, under any circumstances. Share you with anyone. He doesn't like sharing.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He prefers receiving, He would love nothing more than your pretty little mouth taking more than you can handle his cum running down your overfilled mouth.

But He does not mind at all watching you ride squirm and scream his name on his tongue.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He apologizes if he slams his hips to roughly and to you sometimes he doesn't know his own strength. When he gets so caught up and how much and tight you squeeze him, he might go a little harder than he wants to. Sometimes he'll get carried away and start moving his hips faster.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Yes. He'll mess up your guts then send you off to your friends.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Oh he experiments anything to keep you on your toes. And when it comes to risky sex... He lives for it! What an adrenaline junkie...

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He's a fighter, He's fit and he tends to have more stamina which is good for him since he likes to force orgasms out of you like it's nothing not so good for you...

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He's okay on toys. He understands that toys can be used to tease you more or heighten your pleasure but he rather be the only one inside you. Maybe he could use it to fill your other holes.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He can't help that such degrading words slip from his tongue. He doesn't try to use them often. And he'll tease you till you beg. He wants to hear those sweet words and those cute little eyes fill with tears and you're quivering little lips.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Pretty quiet The most you'll get out of him is grunts stifled moans or growls.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Lighter can be pretty possessive as a partner. Mostly protective. And it kind of shows during sex.

Almost exclusively calls you pet names. But every now and then on rare occasions when you got him so worked up he will say your name.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Big cock with heavy full balls, it's thick veiny and uncut.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He may not look it, He is always down to fuck you. He always wants to have you if he wants to he could use you everyday.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Can easily last a couple rounds and even then the first thing he does is shower after he waits for you to fall asleep.

#smut #zzz lighter #zzz lighter x reader #zzzero #zenless zone zero #lighter zzz #zzz #zzz smut #zzz x reader #hoyoverse #zzz lighter smut #lighter lorenz

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lipsticklens · 3 months ago

Text

-ˏˋ self ship ask game ! જ⁀➴𖹭

🤍 : how did you first meet your f/o? what made you realize you were falling in love with them? what made them realize they were falling in love with you?

🫧 : who makes the other one laugh more, you or your f/o? do you tell each other jokes, or is it more a natural sense of humor?

🐇 : do you and your f/o have a pet together? if so, tell us about it! ( what's its name? what kind of animal is it? what's its temperament? ) if not, would you ever get one together?

🐚 : do you give each other gifts often? what's your favorite thing they've given you? what's their favorite thing you've given them?

🦷 : have you ever helped each other through injuries? who gets injured more, you or your f/o?

🕯 : do you and your f/o live together? why or why not? what do your living space(s) look like?

🪽 : do you and your f/o enjoy traveling together? do you do it often? what's your favorite place that you've traveled with them?

🦢 : do you both enjoy classically romantic dates? what's your favorite date you've been on with your f/o?

🛁 : what are some nonsexual forms of intimacy that you & your f/o enjoy? what's your favorite? what's their's?

💿 : reveal your music taste! share some songs that you and your f/o enjoy. how about some albums? some artists?

🕊 : how do you and your f/o dress? do you coordinate outfits together? do you dress similarly, or are you opposites?

☁️ : do you and your f/o enjoy movie nights? what kind of movies do you both enjoy watching? do either of you have a favorite movie, and if so, what does the other one think of it?

remember to practice reblog karma! ^^ you don't need to ask me ( op ) in order to reblog ☆ pr.osh.ip / c.omsh.ip / etc please dni!

#🖤#self shipping #self ship community #self ship #self insert #s/i #fictional other #f/o #selfship #selfshipping #game #ask game

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l0sercat · 4 months ago

Text

NSFW alphabet with/ Logan Howlett

A/N: I have only seen Deadpool and Wolverine so I'm going off of that. I'm going to watch the X-Men movies later, but I can't wait any longer to write for him....So if this is ooc please forgive me 😭🙏🏻 Also MDNI!!!

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

He'll carry you to the bathroom and run the bath and let you do your thing. He'll grab a beer and nurse it and when you call for him, he goes and carry you back to the bedroom. He'll put on a movie and hold you in his arms 'til you'll fall asleep.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves his hands because they fit so nicely on your throat while he's fucking you into your shared bed. He loves your thighs, he loves to be suffocated by them. He loves when he's eating you out and your perfect soft plush thighs squeeze around his head.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

He loves to cum inside you. He loves the intimacy of it. He'll grab your hips and shoot his load deep inside you followed by a deep growl. But if you don't want him to cum inside he is okay with doing it anywhere you want him too!

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He wants you to sit on his face. Doesn't matter what you weigh. When he says sit he means sit. Don't even worry about "crushing" him he can handle it. If he needs to breathe he'll just lift you up for a sec and then set you back down.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Yeah he knows what he is doing. He'll have you on your third orgasm while he only cummed once. He just loves to watch you cum undone!!

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying)

Cowgirl. He'll be in control every second of it. He just loves how he gets to see every inch of your body while he thrust's up into you.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

He keeps it more serious unless something unexpected happens like your leg cramping because of a certain position he might chuckle, but that's about it.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

There is hair and you could call it a bush except that Logan actually keeps it's nice and clean. And he'll occasionally trim it just to tame it, because he doesn't want his pubic hair in your mouth while your gagging on his cock. Now the hair is dark and kinda curly but the hair isn't thick.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Depending on his mood he can be very loving and attentive to your needs. Or he can be rough and just shove your head into the mattress while he pounds into you from behind.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He doesn't masturbate often and if he did it's because he got hard and it won't go away. Also he hates when he cums and it gets all over his hand.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

#1 biter! He loves to bite you especially on your neck and thighs. He loves marking you because it shows everyone that your taken. He also loves tying you up or handcuffing you to the bed. There is just something about seeing you helpless and bound at his mercy that gets him going.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Bedroom or Living room!! Something private so Wade can't try to get a sneak peak(he'll still find a way or press a ear against the door) Also he just doesn't want to have to worry about anyone seeing you naked and in a vulnerable position.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Hearing and smelling how much you need him. Hearing you beg for him to fuck with a little pout and then smelling how wet you are for him. It overwhelms his senses.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything that could seriously hurt you. Example, he would never use his claws to write his name on you. He may bring them out to lightly trace over your skin, but that's it.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He prefers to give but he loves to receive. He just loves the sounds that come out of your mouth when his tongue explores your insides.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

It depends how he is feeling that day. If he was jealous from whatever that day your getting fucked hard and fast. If he's tired your getting fucked sloppy and slow.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He enjoys them from time to time. He prefers taking his time and ruining you, but quickies are nice when your horny and have to be somewhere soon.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He is willing to take risks here and there. Wanna fuck in a public bathroom sure. Want to top him you, can sure as hell try. Just don't ask him to have sex in the bar bathroom. Cause he will not be doing that, it's too fucking gross in there lol.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

He can last forever, joking. But he can last for hours. As long as your not tired and want to keep going he is not gonna stop. He will go day and night if able to keep up with him.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

I feel like he would own a pair of handcuffs and maybe a blindfold and bondage rope. I don't see him owning much lol. If you want to use other toys he will hesitate, and might agree to use them depending on what you suggest.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He likes to tease until your crying and begging for him. He will kiss and lick away your precious tears. He loves you but seeing you begging for him is just so hot <3

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He is vocal to an extent. He will grunt, growl, curse, and let out the occasional moans. When he finishes in you he curses your name and then lets out a little growl.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Occasionally if your okay with it he'll let Wade join/watch but Logan is giving the instructions on what he can do. And if Wade is getting on his nerves he is kicking him out lol.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

I wanna say 7 inches long and thick so it stretches you out. The tip is a light red and it's circumcised. The base is a bit later than his skin. As I said earlier his pubic hair is dark and curly.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

He isn't horny every second and doesn't think about sex often. But if your horny he's ready to go. Whenever you want to fuck he's almost always down to fuck.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

As soon as your taken care of and comfortable in his arms and have fallen asleep, he'll finally close his eyes and sleep.

#x reader #gender neutral #gender not specified #gender neutral reader #wolverine x you #wolverine x reader #wolverine #deadpool and wolverine #logan howlett x you #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett #logan x reader #x men #x men logan #x men wolverine

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sexydoffyman · 9 months ago

Note

Could I maybe get an NSFW alphabet plz with male reader? Thanks!

NSFW ALPHABET - KÖNIG

navigation

genre: smut

characters: König

A/n: a friend pf mine pronounces his name like qwajnk.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Oh boy. He doesn't really seem like it but he really fucking likes cuddles. He definitely uses his height to his advantage. (You're getting grounded, literary) He is a little self-conscious after sex. He knows he's big. He also knows he could hurt you pretty badly. Thoughts of you hating him or losing interest fill his head. He just has to grab you and make sure you stay there with him.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves his arms. You can grab on them, and it makes them seem even bigger than they already are. He likes putting you in a chokehold.

What he favours the most in you are your legs. Thighs specifically. He doesn't really have a reason for it. He just likes them. Let the man get some thighs.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Average texture, not super thick, but also not watery. Hex - f3f5e6 Big man big load. Usually pulls out and catches it in his hand. (He doesn't want to add work by having to clean anything up) He also doesn't really want you to swallow it. He is mature he doesn't need a porn actor who will do anything to satisfy a dude. He'd rather have real sex.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He doesn't fit in a fleshlight. He's pretty embarrassed about the whole thing.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He's over 40. Definitely has a pretty big body count. About 27 I'd say. (counting one-night stands) He finally found someone on whom he can use his knowledge on.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Spooning or the seashell.

When he spoons you he can put you in a chokehold, making you fight back a little. On the other hand, when he bends your legs you won't be able to fucking move.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Serious but not a nerd kinda serious. He just doesn't speak much.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He keeps a solid bush on there. (He does make sure to clean it properly) It is not messy. He's got a little thicker happy trail. And he's a pretty brunet down there.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He can be pretty brutal both with his actions and with his words. Or he can be soft with both. It depends on both of your moods.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

This testosterone-filled man definitely jerks off. Even when you are around (Doesn't try to hide it)

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Being in control. I mean, can you blame him. He has the perfect body and occupation for it. Speaking of body.

Size difference. Again it just feels right.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He could fuck anywhere. Even tho he likes it the most from the safety of your bedroom he wouldn't mind a public bathroom or a friend's bedroom. He likes to be sneaky. Has never been caught once.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Anything.

Do anything he's hard instantly. That's why he jerks off so much.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

If you want it he wants it. Except threesomes. He wants you for himself. Who could blame him when he has such a pretty thing only for him. Why would he share

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Receiving. He isn't bad at giving but he can use his hands and dick way better than his mought.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Fast and rough all the way. He loves to be in control and he's got all this raw strength and energy. Why not use it?

He also likes the slow and sensual. Both of you need a break sometimes.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He'd go for them more often, but he doesn't really want to bother you. Another reason for him jerking off a lot.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He’s always pulling you to the side, finding a place to make you take him. He is obsessed of holding the door to make sure no one gets in.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

This dude. Bruv can go as long as you can go. He will take you to the stars and back and it’ll take him only a minute to catch his breath.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Not a fan of them. He’d rather have you on his dick not some plastic. He doesn’t find much pleasure in them either.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Based on his mood.

He could play with you as he holds you down.

Or he could be quick about it.

He for sure doesn’t mind teasing you. Touching your thigh is his favourite way to do so.

V = Volume (how loud are they, what sounds they make, etc.)

He is dead silent. Sometimes it freaks you out. But if he finds out you enjoy the sounds he makes he will definitely try to add more of ‘em

Slight sighing when he lays his body on yours, little grunts and the occasional “fuck”

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He’s into stalking. It doesn’t matter of it’s you stalking him or the other way around. He loves the thrill.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

7.5 inches abnormaly thick. #e0ae82 base #ba7f68 tip. Slightly curved to the left.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Boy can go anywhere anytime. Public bathroom, bed, a random fucking room. He’s always thinking of it. Hard 24/7

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He likes to talk a bit afterwards but he will fall asleep like a baby right after he’s done.

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selfship-confession-box · 4 months ago

Note

i love you "bad" nonsharers. i love you jealous selfshippers. i love you possessive selfshippers. i love you obsessive selfshippers. i love you selfshippers with violent thoughts. i love you selfshippers whose line between fiction and reality is blurred. i love you selfshippers who take selfshipping "too seriously." i love you selfshippers whose f/o(s) are their real partner(s.) i love you selfshippers whose f/o(s) belong to them, are their property, are theirs and only theirs. i love you selfshippers who know for a fact that no one could ever love their f/o(s) like they do. i love you selfshippers who aren't just "nonsharing," selfshippers that DO NOT share. i love you selfshippers who see "canon" love interests and other selfshippers who claim to love their f/o(s) as rivals, fakers, homewreckers, etc. i love you selfshippers who get swept into a whirlwind of (self-)destruction at the thought of their f/o(s) loving anyone else. i love you selfshippers who can't tolerate others with their f/o(s) as platonic f/os either. i love you selfshippers who feel these things about their platonic and/or queerplatonic f/o(s). i love you selfshippers who see their f/o(s) as having these same feelings to cope, to feel truly loved, to feel understood and accepted. i love you selfshippers who feel these things because of neurodivergence and/or mental illness. i love you selfshippers who face ableism that isn't taken seriously because their symptoms are "unsavory." i love you selfshippers who are yelled at for harassment just for venting on their own blog. i love you selfshippers who are constantly told to get therapy, bonus for those who are told this when they CAN'T get therapy or ARE in therapy already. i love you selfshippers whose symptoms and feelings don't get "your f/o loves you with your symptoms" or "imagine your f/o learning about your symptoms and accepting you" sort of posts. i love you selfshippers who have instead been told that their f/o(s) wouldn't love them because of those feelings. i love you selfshippers who are accused of being pr0sh1p because their feelings are seen as "toxic" or "taboo." i love you selfshippers who are frequently blocked, kicked from servers, etc. because their feelings are seen as "problematic." i love you selfshippers who are accused of romanticizing unhealthy relationships when they're just trying to vent or cope. i love you selfshippers who are no longer ashamed of who they are, and i love you selfshippers who feel guilt over their feelings. i love you selfshippers who felt these things in the past, selfshippers who will realize these feelings in the future, and selfshippers who may feel these in the present but deny it. i love you to the yanderes, the landmines, the "crazy" selfshippers- i love you all.

with love, 🫀

#self ship #self shipping community #selfshipping community #selfship #self shipper #self shipping #self ship community #selfship community #🫀 anon #Heart anon

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hysteria-things · 10 months ago

Note

Can you make nsfw abcs with Matt and Chris separately please??

NSFW ALPHABET

read matt’s here

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i had a ball doing this LMAO

posting this and then a matt fic later today :)

hope you like it anon!

A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

a lot of people say chris wouldn’t be the best at aftercare but i honestly disagree. he’ll do anything to make you feel comfortable and safe before he tends to his own needs.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

chris low-key likes his lips. wherever he kisses you he loves how perfect his lips feel on your body. (a bonus is his hair. he goes spiraling on the inside whenever you tug on it)

man loves your ass. the way it jiggles and shit at the slightest thing; muah chefs kiss. especially how it recoils when he’s taking you from behind.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

hates using condoms and will always cum inside you. you’re obviously on birth control, but also have extra plan b’s just in case. will admire the way it oozes out of you, always thinking about how hot you look with his cum inside you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

will never admit this but he enjoys it when you “tease” him in public; aka doing normal things and getting turned on by it. you can simply bend down to get something off a shelf or lean against him in crowded areas and bro is bricked up.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

definetly has like two bodies before you. although, sex comes naturally to him, and knows what he’s doing.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

LOVES LOVES LOVES BACKSHOTS. argue with the wall.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

leans more toward serious but if you guys aren’t really going at it he’ll pop a joke here and there.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

keeps it trimmed very nicely. the thought of being clean shaven will make him feel bald.

he really doesn’t give a fuck if you have hair or not. as long as the pussy is fire he’s not complaining!

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

will make out with you until you can’t breathe. especially if his brothers are home, he’ll make sure to keep you quiet by having you moan in his mouth instead.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

if he’s away on tour or a vacation, he has no problem pulling up the videos you guys took in his my eyes only.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

dumbification and breeding. it honestly turns him on even more when you can’t speak and all you can think about is his dick buried inside you. gives him motivation because he’s the only one that can do that to you and he wants to make sure you know it.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

either the bed or anywhere there’s a surface. a desk or counter, for example. he loves bending you over taking you right there.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

the sounds you make. your moans and squeals are like music to his ears and that alone can send him over the edge in minutes.

N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn-offs)

THREESOMES. would rather die than share you with anybody else; he’s too protective over you for that.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

a mixture of both, but likes giving a little more. will always be up for a blowjob, but whenever he eats you out it’s still for his pleasure. he’ll thrust his pelvis into the mattress to get some friction. skill-wise, let’s just say he knows the spots that will make your eyes roll back and legs shake.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

fast and rough for sure. his mission will be to wreck your body. however, if you guys are having sleepy sex then he’ll go slow and sensual.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

will do them anywhere anytime. at a party? he’ll take you to the bathroom. at a clothing store? to the dressing room, you’ll go.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

if you want to try something new, he’ll be down to do it. if there’s something you guys try and don’t like, then it’ll never happen again. he’s glad you guys tried it out either way.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

he wishes he could do like five but in reality, he can do two. although, he can last for a while until you’re completely satisfied.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

he doesn’t own any but you do. so when you guys are at your house, he’ll use the vibrator on you. it’s pretty rare when you do it though because he likes to do the pleasuring. not some toy.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

will tease you just to mess with you and make you mad. he finds it funny when you cross your arms and huff at him, but the teasing will be worth it in the end.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

dirty talks A LOT, but when he’s not he’ll grunt every time he thrusts back into you. he will let a whimper slip if you clench out of nowhere and it throws him off guard.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

will take in how perfect you wrap around his cock. his jaw will slack as he watches himself pump in and out of you, especially if you cum and it starts to drip down his shaft.

X = X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

he’s big 100%, but more girthy than lengthy. in every picture i’ve seen, he’s always had a bulge.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

chris is a horndog 25/8. you could be driving back to your house and he’ll call you to have you turn around.

“i’m horny again.”

“i JUST left???”

“sorry.”

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

bro knocks the fuck out LMAO he’ll see if you need anything afterward, but he’s half asleep when he asks.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #✎ ⤾ haleigh’s requests!

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plutocisms · 1 month ago

Text

NSFW Alphabet for Shouta Aizawa

A (Aftercare) what are they like after sex?

He will clean you up and get you any and everything you need. He likes to check in on how it was for you and have a little pillow talk. Don’t think about moving afterwards he wants to cuddle, even if he doesn’t say it.

B (Body Part) favorite on themselves and of their partner

He doesn’t have a favorite part on himself, but if he really had to pick It’d probably be his arms, He likes when you grab onto them and compliment them.

On you he looooves your waist and is constantly keeping eye contact with you because he also loves your eyes.

C (Cum) anything to do w/ it basically

He prefers to release on your stomach (as much as he would love to inside of you, he’s against it until you guys are intent of actually trying) and can’t get enough of the way you taste, yeah he’s tying that hair up for you.

D (Dirty little secret) self explanatory

He was too embarrassed to let you know but he snuck a new headboard in after breaking one from his grip one night while having his way with you. He actually called Yamada to help him with this and to get rid of the previous one but obviously didn’t tell him the reason why even though he poked an prodded for an answer as to what happened.

E (Experience) also pretty self explanatory

He has some experience but it’s limited, he’s pretty standoffish so doesn’t normally get very involved.

F (Favorite postition) ^

Loves classic missionary, Face off, & prone bone. He’s not picky tho but those would be his go-to positions.

G (Goofy) are they more playful or serious in the moment?

This is actually one time where he can let loose a bit, he’s not cracking them left and right but he likes to tease and can actually lighten up a bit here from time to time.

H (Hair) how are they groomed down there?

Oh it’s a bit scruffy down there, trimmed but there’s deffly some hair.

I (Intimacy) are they more romantic or lustful in the moment?

He’s pretty passionate, he loves looking into your eyes during, kissing you, holding you and enjoys talking through it—not too much but just enough.

J (Jack Off) masturbation headcanon

He’s really not one to dabble, at least when he’s in a relationship and even outside of one he’s not big into it, he’s got a lot of discipline and is never really down too bad.

K (Kink(s)) self explanatory :)

He loves sleepy sex, wake up roll over in the middle of the night type shii, He’s also into the idea of being waken up with a surprise if yk what I mean. He’s into a bit of dirty talk. Tell him what you like/want him to do to you. He wouldn’t say anything about it, he won’t refer to himself as such but he low-key gets hot and bothered if you call him Daddy— it catches him off guard in a way he can’t fight off.

L (Location) where they like to do it

He loves the comfort of his home so pretty much anywhere there is a green light. The bed, couch, shower all of it. He’s open to doing it other places but you’d really have to convince him.

M (Motivation) what gets them in the mood?

He really loves seeing you your element doing anything. It’s the little things. The way you walk, catching a whiff of your scent, watching you sleep, any physical touch from you, this is a simple man.

N (No) what they wont do in the bedroom

He’s not into the idea of sharing you or anything that would cause you real pain, I also don’t see him degrading his partner.

O (Oral) do they enjoy giving/receiving?

He can eat it till you cry and then some. He loves being between your thighs and making you feel good. As far as receiving he really enjoys watching you take him all in, both are very good stress relief for him.

P (Pace) how fast or slow are they during?

He’s got a good pace, very sensual. He actually likes when you dictate the pace—more than willing to accommodate your needs. In general though, he normally picks up the pace quite a bit on his own when he’s close.

Q (Quickies) how do they feel about them?

He doesn’t prefer them over a proper session, but can still have his fun, it’s also a bit of a a turn on for him, the challenge of getting you off in a time crunch.

R (Risks) are they willing to take them?

He’s not very risky, he doesn’t like the idea of getting caught. This man risks his life on a consistent basis and enjoys the comfort and safety of you. He’s not trying anything crazy with you.

S (Stamina) how long can they last?

He’s got a solid two rounds in him before he needs a break/nap inbetween. They are long rounds and in all honesty he could last a little longer (man’s a pro hero) but performance gets a little sloppy after those first two.

T (Toys) are they into them, do they have any?

Tbh Aizawa is a little uninterested in complicating things too much in the bedroom. He’s open to suggestions but doesn’t bring any of his own volition

U (Unfair) are they a tease basically

He’s not super unfair mostly because he’s hoping if he’s not with you—you won’t be too much with him (he’s got a love-hate relationship with it, drives him nuts in a good way)

V (Volume) how loud are they during

May be a little surprising but he actually is quite talkative and has some volume. He is into giving praise with you and he lets you know just how good you make him feel. Low raspy voice, deep moans and groans, oh and he’s gonna cuss.

W (Wildcard) random headcanon

Somehow you convinced him to have a quickie after hours at the school (first and likely the last time you guys will do that because,) If it wasn’t enough to see you two appear out of the closet, Aizawa gets a flush after sex and Yamada has yet to let him live it down.

X (X-Ray) what's it looking like under the hood

He’s got good length not massive but above bit above average and it curves just slightly. He’s pretty hairy with the happy trail, little bit of hair on his thighs and legs.

Y (Yearning) what's their sex drive like?

He has a pretty standard sex drive though he initiates less than he could, primarily because he loves when you approach him, even if he’s a little too tired for the task.

Z (Zzz) how fast do they fall asleep after?

He goes to straight to sleep after taking care of your needs. Loves napping with you afterwards—it’s kinda mandatory for him.

#bnha shouta aizawa #shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa x y/n #bhna aizawa #aizawa smut #Aizawa alphabet #mha x black reader #mha aizawa #mha shouta aizawa #eraserhead #eraserhead MHA #dadzawa #aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta #MHA fanart

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lesbiankimdahyun · 1 month ago

Note

G!p Karina hosting a Halloween costume party and choosing you as the winner for best dressed/costume. The prize being that you get to sleep with her.

thank you i loved writing this i hope u enjoy! A03 link is here

FIRST PRIZE: A Halloween Special

4.4K words

[GP!Karina x F!Reader]

CW: GP, alcohol, brief weed mention

Guest appearances: MAMAMOO’s Moonbyul and Solar

Your job had been cool about you working fully remotely during the height of the pandemic, but now after two years, they finally asked you to relocate. Your boss was able to compensate you for the move to D.C., which helped, but coming from San Francisco, the East coast culture shock was brutal. Starting over in a new city was intimidating, but at least you had your work bestie Karina to hang out with now that the two of you lived in the same city.

Having only seen and interacted with her through Zoom on your laptop about (mostly) work-related things, you were a little nervous that the friendship would fade or ruin your working relationship, but over the summer, you found it had the opposite effect. The more you saw of Karina’s authentic offline self, the more comfortable you felt with her, and being able to make Karina laugh felt like winning the lottery. You were absolutely harboring a crush on her, but you kept hoping maybe it would go away in time, too afraid to let her know about your feelings.

But months later when she invited you to a huge Halloween bash she was hosting, you knew your crush on her wasn’t going away any time soon. Her massive apartment, which she shared with her roommate, a girl named Winter you’d met a couple times, was decorated from the floor to the ceiling for the occasion. Perfectly placed cobwebs, a plethora of real, carved jack-o-lanterns lined the mantle of the living room’s fireplace, and the staircase that led up to their bedrooms had tiny, fake candles on each step, adding a warm glow. Karina had used plenty of LED lights too, leaving sections of the apartment cast in eerie purple and red light. Despite the free flowing alcohol, available weed and other Halloween goodies supplied for the party, it was Karina herself that had your rapt attention.

“You made it!” she said when you arrived, pulling you in for a hug. Her costume was decadent and extravagant, but not so over the top that it limited her range of motion. She’d chosen to go as Glinda the Good Witch. “I like Elphaba better,” she admitted, “but I didn’t want to commit to green skin.” Instead, she’d committed to a Swarovski-jeweled crown, a short, perfectly pink ruffle dress, complete with embroidery work near the bust and tiered tulle to add volume to the skirt. She had a silver, jewel-covered scepter that matched her crown, and wore extra blush to accent all of the pink details. On anyone else, it would’ve looked very cute, but Karina’s lethal beauty and aloof personality made the overall look devastatingly stunning instead.

When she pulled away from you, she eyed you and your costume with interest. “Talk about treasure,” she said. “Should I call you Jack or Jackie Sparrow?”

You felt yourself blush a bit. “Whatever you like,” you said. Karina smirked in response, taking another moment to look at the pieces you’d put together for your Pirates of the Caribbean-inspired outfit. You’d gone to great lengths to gender-bend your take on Jack Sparrow just the way you wanted, and based on Karina’s reaction, it seemed to be paying off. For your look, you’d combined a brown, satin corset top with bronze buckles, a black chiffon tiered waterfall maxi skirt, a black frill tie blouse with flared sleeves, a black lace necklace, brown knee length boots that matched your corset, a few long pearl necklaces to go with the lace necklace, gold hoop earrings, gold rings, and a brown faux leather pirate hat with a single feather on one side.

Karina suddenly reached forward, brushing her hand along your thigh. “What’s this?” she asked curiously. “A black lace garter? Wow, Y/N, you really pull out all the stops, don’t you?” You let out a shy laugh in response. Karina took your hand then. “Come on,” she said, leading you through the crowd. She pulled you into the kitchen, where Winter was busy grabbing more alcohol.

“Win-ter,” Karina sing-songed, “Look who's going to enter my costume contest!” Her roommate turned around and the two of you took a moment to take in each other’s costumes.

“No way,” you said, admiring her black, white and pink futuristic superhero look. “Uravity? From My Hero Academia?” Winter beamed. “ Finally , I’m recognized,” she said, coming over to give you a light hug, careful to avoid bonking you with her headpiece as she hugged you. “Everyone keeps thinking I’m some sort of Barbie Buzz Lightyear,” she said with a quick pout and eye roll. “But wow, look at you!” She took your hand, and you spun for her to show off all sides of your costume. She and Karina exchanged a brief look, and then Winter nodded. “So you're in the contest, huh? I bet you'll win” she said.

“Oh, that’s so sweet,” you said, “But I don’t know even know if I actually want t--”

Karina cut you off. “Trust me,” she said, placing a hand on your shoulder. Her glittery, pink nails stood out against the brown and black colors of your costume. “You want to be in this. My Halloween costume contests always come with prizes, even if you don't win! ”

“Really?” you asked. “Well what does the winner get then?”

Karina grinned. “Y/N, I can’t just tell you what the winner gets,” she said. “Where’s the fun in that? Why not play to win and find out for yourself,” she said. The way she said it was sassy, almost flirtatious. Wait. There's no way Karina would be flirting with me, you thought.

“Hmm…” you said, pretending to mull it over while moving toward the kitchen sink, where the drink supplies were. You grabbed a black plastic cup and looked around for ice, but Karina came over beside you, interrupting your search. “Let me,” she said, gently plucking your cup out of your hands while Winter handed her a bottle of deep purple Empress gin. The gin’s purple color turned pinkish when she added a splash of lime and tonic water to the gin, but it remained largely purple even after ice was added too, letting you know the drink had way more alcohol than mixer in it. You went to take a sip, but Karina stopped you. “Wait,” she said, reaching for a small, plastic packet and ripping it open.

“What's that?” you asked, tipping your cup away.

“Relax,” Karina said, showing you a bit of the light, powdery substance in her palm. She dipped a finger in it and put it up to her lips, licking the substance off. “Edible glitter,” she explained. “See?” She dipped her finger back into the glitter and then held it up near your mouth.

“Try it,” she said, and you found yourself obeying and opening your mouth for her, tongue slightly out. Karina lightly pressed the pad of her finger to your tongue, and a wave of heat rolled over you. If the edible glitter had any taste at all, it was completely overpowered by the salty taste of Karina’s fingertip. Karina’s eyes flicked from your tongue, then up at you. Your cheeks burned at the intimacy.

“So… you'll be in the costume contest, then?” she asked, taking a small step back. You held out your cup for Karina to add some edible glitter to your drink, which she did.

“Oh alright,” you said. “Why not?”

The rest of the party was a blur. Karina insisted on making all of your drinks, leaving you beyond buzzed but feeling extremely sociable. You chatted with a girl dressed as a ‘hot version of Moo Deng’, danced and shouted ‘Yes, chef!’ with a few folks dressed as the cast of The Bear, and drunkenly gushed over a stunning sapphic couple dressed as Statue of Liberty Chappell Roan and Pink Pony Club Chappell Roan. On occasion throughout the night, Karina would steal you away to dance to Rob Zombie or Kim Petras. A few times while you danced, you'd find her suddenly behind you, hand lightly brushing over your waist. Your brain was operating at a hundred miles a minute, but you put it out of your mind so you could focus on meeting a few of Karina and Winter’s other mutual friends: a girl named NingNing who rocked a modern Cruella DeVil costume, and another girl named Giselle who was dressed as a high glam-drag version of HIM from the Powerpuff Girls– sans facial hair.

Just after midnight, Karina gathered everyone for the costume contest in the spacious living room. You joined the other contestants in the center of the room: Statue of Liberty Chappell, hot Moo Deng, and Giselle.

“Before we start,” Karina said, “I should let all of the contestants know that second and third place prizes will be given out here at the party, but first place will need to stick around afterward to claim the grand prize, okay?” The four of you nodded while the rest of the party attendees applauded lightly in anticipation. Fourth place wound up going to ‘hot Moo Deng,’ and Giselle took third.

Karina presented Giselle with a plastic, orange pumpkin bucket intended for trick-or-treating. There was a couple handfuls of candy inside, but in addition to pumpkin-shaped Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups and candy corn, Karina and Winter had filled the buckets with mini bottles of alcohol, edibles, and liquid hydration packets. Then, Karina gave Giselle a celebratory strawberry lemon drop shot, which was, of course, perfectly pink to match her Glinda costume. Everyone clinked their plastic cups together, ready to take a sip of their drinks while Giselle had her shot. Her large claw attachments, though, made her unable to take the tiny shot glass out of Karina’s hand. For a supposedly good witch, Karina seemed extra amused by Giselle's struggle. With her other free hand, Karina held Giselle’s face, her thumb on one of Giselle’s cheeks, the rest of her fingers on the other.

“Aw, does our big bad villain need some help?” she asked mockingly. Giselle feigned annoyance and nodded. Karina whispered something in Giselle’s ear then, and then Giselle rolled her eyes for real before opening her mouth. Everyone cheered as Karina knocked the shot back into Giselle’s mouth. Karina laughed, making a show out of having Giselle open her mouth again to prove she’d swallowed it all.

Your hands started to sweat a bit while you and Statue of Liberty Chappell Roan waited to find out who the winner would be. You honestly had no idea which way the costume contest would go. You knew your costume was pretty good overall, but Statue of Liberty Chappell, whose real name was Moonbyul, had really gone all out, even painting herself the same color as the actual Statue of Liberty. To hype up the crowd, Karina took the partygoers’ temperature by standing behind Moonbyul, holding a hand over the girl’s head.

“Who’s feeling sexy Statue of Liberty Chappell Roan?” she asked, and the crowd responded by applauding as Moonbyul posed, holding up her torch triumphantly. When the clapping died down, she moved behind you, and you knew her hand was hovering somewhere above your pirate hat. “What about our sexy Jackie Sparrow?” she asked, and the crowd erupted in louder applause, including a few wolf whistles from somewhere in the back.

Karina grinned at the partygoers. “I thought so too,” she said matter-of-factly. “It looks like we have a consensus, then. Second place goes to Statue of Liberty Chappell Roan!” There was more applause, and Pink Pony Club Chappell, whose real name was Solar, shrieked in excitement for her girlfriend. Winter presented Moonbyul with her own plastic pumpkin bucket full of the same goodies Giselle had received. Another strawberry lemon drop shot was brought out for Moonbyul. But instead of letting Moonbyul take the shot herself, Karina held onto it.

“Since it’s my party, I want to do things my way, tonight” Karina said. “So open up, Chappell,” she said, grinning mischievously. “Forgive me, Solar,” she said, turning back toward Pink Pony Club Chappell Roan for a moment before coaxing Moonbyul’s mouth open so she could pour the shot down Moonbyul’s throat. “Now for those of you who have been to my parties before, you know the second place winner usually also comes with a kiss from me, but girl…” Karina said, “Keep those green Statue of Liberty lips away from me! She’s alllll yours, Solar,” Karina said with a laugh.

A kiss? ! What kind of costume contest between friends was this? Before you could ruminate on it, Karina was beside you, taking your hand and holding it up proudly. “And now give it up for this year’s costume contest winner!” The crowd roared with drunken cheers. You felt Karina’s hand near your thigh again. “Don’t you all just love this garter? I think it’s my favorite part,” she said, her fingers trailing over the black lace detail. Another strawberry lemon drop shot was handed to Karina, and she turned to face you.

“You know the drill by now, don’t you?” she asked playfully. “Open up, Y/N.” The tart tang of lemon, alcohol, and a bit of sweetness from the strawberry burned while it made its way down your throat. She then leaned in, her lips brushing against your ear while she whispered to you. “You’ll get your prize later, okay?”

The party reverted back to the way it was, but not for long. By the time 1:30 AM rolled around, the party was winding down as some partygoers headed out to make appearances at other parties, while others trickled out to hit the clubs before they closed. You collapsed on the couch, making conversation with the last few party stragglers while they gathered their shoes and costume parts, getting ready to leave.

“Are you gonna be okay t’get home?” You looked up to see Giselle standing above you, swaying lightly, clearly a bit drunk. You sat up and nodded, scooching over so she could sit down and focus the remainder of her energy on ordering an Uber home.

“This was sooo fun,” she said, her words blurring together a bit. She pulled off her costume’s red claw attachments so she could use her hands normally again. Then she turned to you. “Hey, we should go– er, hang out sometime,” she said. You almost missed what she said entirely, distracted by the sleek, black thigh high boots she was wearing and the way her red fishnets popped beneath them. And wait-- is that part latex? How on earth were all of Karina’s close friends this hot, too?

“Hm?” you said, needing a moment to register what she’d just said. “Oh! I’d like that,” you said, smiling. Forgetting about the rideshare app open on her phone, she handed the small rectangle to you. “Put your number in!” she said, bouncing a bit. Her shoulder brushed against yours, sending a tiny, electric jolt through your right arm. You started to feel warm as Giselle rested her chin on your shoulder to watch as you swiped away from the pending rideshare pickup and tapped the phone icon to add your number.

“Can I tell you something?” she asked, sitting back a bit when you were done. You returned her phone to her and nodded. “Karina’s into you,” she blurted. You threw Giselle a quizzical look while your heartbeat raced. “Wh-what?” you asked. “Where’d you get that idea from?”

Giselle just giggled to herself, rummaging through her bag to make sure all of her belongings were still present, then looped her arm through the handle of her Halloween bucket prize. “She does this every year,” she replied. “You’ll see. That glittery scepter of hers isn’t the only disco stick she likes to use.” She stood up, her driver just a minute or two away now. Giselle flipped her long, black hair back and gave you one last look over her shoulder. “She’d fucking kill me if she knew I said this…” she gave you one last onceover. “If you aren’t satisfied with your prize… let me know.”

“Huh?” you said, but Giselle didn’t explain. She was already heading toward the front door, where Karina was hugging NingNing and Winter goodbye. Wait , you thought. Didn’t Winter live here? Why was she leaving? You looked around for any other remaining partygoers, but realized you were about to be alone.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Karina said apologetically, coming over to you after everyone was officially gone. You stood and walked with her into the kitchen. “Did you have fun?” she asked. She poured you a glass of water as you nodded. “Your friends are really nice,” you said, taking the cup from her. “Especially Giselle.” Karina’s eyes flashed with an emotion you couldn’t read, but then she recovered and smiled. “Don’t I know it,” she said. “They’re the best.”

With the music at a much softer level and the purple and red LED lights off, the main floor of the apartment was dim and cozy, with the only remaining sources of light coming from the moonlight streaming in through the bay windows, the jack-o-lanterns on the fireplace mantle and the tiny, battery-powered fake flicker candles that stood on the edge of the steps leading upstairs. Your heart was pounding nervously in your chest now, unsure of what to expect. It was the first time you’d ever been alone with Karina in her apartment– normally Winter was there.

“Hey, where’d Winter go?” you asked, trying to keep your voice casual. Karina shrugged a bit, walking back into the living room. “Oh,” she said, glancing back to make sure you followed her out. “She and NingNing decided to hit the club for a bit. I’m sure she’ll be back in a while,” she said. Anxiety quelled in your stomach. Something told you Winter would not be coming back anytime soon.

Karina instructed you to sit back down on the couch. “Are you ready for your prize?” she asked, grinning, and you nodded a little. “You’re not going to like, have a man in a bloody clown costume jump out at me or anything are you?” you asked. Karina laughed. “Y/N! You're so funny right now. Are you nervous ?” she asked teasingly.

“N-no, no,” you said. Of course Karina wouldn’t scare you, you thought. She was more into treats than tricks. Right? Before you could think it through, you found yourself adding, “If it’s anything like Moonbyul’s, I’m sure I’ll like it.”

“Oh?” Karina asked, taking off her crown and shaking out her hair. “Why’s that?”

You bit your tongue lightly as you watched her fingers run through her perfectly sleek, shiny hair. You absolutely could not say anything about her prizes coming with the promise of a kiss. Fuck . “Uh…” you lost your train of thought. “The…”

Karina smirked a little, watching your wheels spin as you tried to come up with a response. “I see,” she said, cutting you off. “Y/N,” she continued, and you looked up at her. “Close your eyes and wait for your prize, okay?” You nodded, glancing down before closing your eyes. For a moment, everything was silent and still, and then you felt added weight on the couch. You caught a whiff of Karina’s perfume, letting you know she was beside you now. And then you felt something– no, not something, some one brush against your lips. Karina was kissing you .

Desire spread through your body instantly. Your first instinct was to lean into it, but your head spun, and you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or Karina’s dizzying presence. You leaned back for a moment and your eyes fluttered open. Karina’s face was just inches away from yours.

“Is this okay?” she asked you softly, and you nodded. She leaned in and both of your eyes closed again while she kissed you. Her lips were warm and her tongue tasted sweet as it brushed against yours. Before you knew it, she was stripping you of your pirate hat, tossing it aside as she helped you lay down on the couch. Karina hovered above you, pressing herself gently against your corseted abdomen. Your breath hitched a little, making your chest heave as Karina’s hands wandered over your body lightly. Her hair tickled the sides of your face, waterfalling back over her shoulders while the two of you continued to make out. All of your senses were overwhelmed by her– her scent, her taste, and oh god , her touch.

But just a few minutes later, she stopped and sat up. “Are you alright?” you asked, slightly breathless. She nodded and stood, then helped you up. “How would you feel about getting out of these costumes?” she asked, her head cocked to one side.

Before you knew it, Karina was leading you upstairs. You barely had time to recognize that you were in Karina's room. She turned on a bit of soft light placed strategically underneath her bed so it wouldn’t blind either of you. “Do you want the rest of your prize?” she asked you. You nodded. Karina looked you up and down. “Then turn around,” she said. You did so, confused for a moment, but then you felt a tug on your corset. Karina was undoing your costume. She made quick work of the corset and your blouse, leaving you naked from the waist up. You felt her fingertips trail over your shoulders and down your arms, but just as soon as she was touching you, she stopped. You heard the sound of a zipper from behind you, and started to turn around.

“Ah, ah,” Karina said. “Not yet,” she said. You heard the sound of her dress fall to the floor and your heart skipped a beat in anticipation. Karina’s hands returned to your body as she gently slid down your maxi skirt and helped you out of your boots. Her fingers wandered back toward your neck to remove your pearl necklaces, but she left the black, lace collar. “Leave it,” she said when you brought a hand up to touch it. “I like it.” One of her hands gripped your waist while the other toyed with the black garter around your thigh. “Leave this, too…for now,” she murmured. Once the two of you were fully out of your costumes she pressed herself against you from behind. Her hands wandered over the front of your body and then suddenly, you felt it. You let out a small gasp. Karina was hard.

Giselle’s disco stick comment echoed in your ear for a moment. “Y/N?” Karina’s lips were near your ear, her voice soft. “Are you okay?”

You nodded wordlessly, resisting the urge to grind against her. Your mouth watered a little. “C-can I turn around yet?” you asked. Karina answered by physically turning your body to face her. You leaned in to kiss her immediately while also using one hand to reach forward, gingerly taking her cock in your hand. Karina moaned lightly as she kissed you, her hips jutting forward to meet your touch. The second Karina’s lips separated from yours, you dropped to your knees, curious to see what kind of other pretty sounds you could elicit from her. Karina let out a small huff of amusement, watching fixedly as you took her in your mouth.

“Eager, huh?” Karina murmured. Her teasing was short lived though as you bobbed your head on her length. You grew wet quickly, shifting your position a bit to try and relieve the ache between your thighs. Karina ran her hands through your hair, gathering it at the back of your head in a makeshift ponytail to keep it out of your face while you blew her. You quickly realized, though, her true intent was to be able to guide your mouth on her cock, testing to see how much you could handle. When she’d had enough, she pulled you up, only to push you back onto her bed a moment later.

You were immediately hit by a wave of her scent, and then she was on top of you. She backed up a little and then leaned down, using her teeth to slide your garter down your thigh. Soon, it joined the rest of your costume on the floor while moved up and closer to you, kissing her way from your waist to your neck. You shivered a bit at her light touch, your hands weaving through her hair as she went. She used her knees to spread your legs, then pinned one of your wrists down to the bed.

You wanted to hold Karina’s gaze when she finally slid into you, but after the first couple inches, your eyes rolled back and closed. Full . You were absolutely full of Karina. It took her a minute or so to bottom out in you. By the time she did, both of you were breathing heavily. You let out a tiny whimper the moment she started to move, and she consoled you with a few kisses while she slowly, slowly picked up speed.

You felt magnetized to Karina as her body pressed tightly against yours while she fucked into you. Your wetness soon made it easy for her to pump her slick cock into you, and Karina took advantage of that. Her hips slammed into you as she went even faster, burying her head in your neck while your free hand wandered and explored over her body.

You were lost in each other's rhythms and hungry, fervent sounds until suddenly, Karina slowed down significantly. “Shit,” she breathed, “Oh, fuck…” she pulled out quickly. She came on your near-ruined cunt, rope after rope of cum covering you. Watching her cum nearly sent you over the edge, but you knew you’d need more.

The two of you said nothing for a few moments as you caught your breath, trying to wrap your head around the night.

“Karina?” you said.

“Y/N?” she replied in the same tone as you.

“I’m…” you hesitated for a moment, but your aching cunt forced you to continue. “I’m on birth control– I mean, just so you know,” you said, your voice tapering off slightly.

Karina’s eyebrows flew up, but then she grinned. She gently flipped you onto your stomach, rearranging you so your ass was up toward her waist. “Hmm,” she said thoughtfully. “This time,” she said, lining herself up with your slick entrance, “I want you to touch yourself while I fuck you, okay?”

#aespa smut #GP!aespa #GP!Karina #aespa x fem reader #aespa imagines #anonymous #ask #answered

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cokou · 5 months ago

Text

𝚃𝚛𝚊𝚏𝚊𝚕𝚐𝚊𝚛 𝙻𝚊𝚠 𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝙰𝚕𝚙𝚑𝚊𝚋𝚎𝚝

tw. Basically smut?. MDNI. ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ a/n. SO YALL, IM ACTUALLY SO HAPPY TO DO THIS NO IDEA WHY. // Don't translate or transfer my works, will not be crossposted anywhere! This is my only account.

A = Aftercare (What they're like after sex)

—Law the man he is, I'd see him asking you if you'd like to take a shower to rid of all the sweat or just ask you if you need anything. Is definitely awkward after sex, but he still tries to get it together and asks if you need something, if so then he'll gladly do it for you.

B = Body Part (Their favorite part of theirs and also their partner's)

—His favorite body part of his s/o would definitely be their thighs or their tummy, he'd cherish your thighs because they're smooth and soft, that means he get to lay his head on it when he's simply tired enough. Your tummy being his favorite would be because he loves burying his face into it.

—His favorite part of his' would be his chest, showcasing the tattoo that reminds him of cora-san. He'll always be proud of its' look, that's why it'll always be his favorite.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum, basically)

—His cum color would be #F0E3DD, he loves finishing inside you or on your face. Definitely likes the sight of you covered in his cum, would spill on your stomach and write words on it using his cum.

D = Dirty Secret (self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

—Is in for the idea of shibari/rope bondage, he enjoys seeing his s/o tied up and unable to move or make a move on him. Will purposely tie the ropes fairly tight and watch you struggle, wouldn't admit it because, he's Law.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

—No experience at all despite reading books about sex, he fairly thinks he's doing a great job in bed, but his thrusts have no rhythm on them. But when it comes to using his tongue, he's definitely a god at doing so.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying)

—Doggy, watching your ass recoil when he slams against you is definitely one of the things that turns him on.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment? Are they humourous etc.?)

—Is serious but talks you throughout sex, he asks if you're doing just fine or teases you when you do something that genuinely makes him twitch.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes?)

—It's fairly short and well trimmed, trims it twice a month and it does match the drapes. Its' color would be jet black, just like his hair but even darker.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect)

—Being romantic isn't exactly his thing, that includes being in bed too. Although he shows alternative ways of being romantic to you, such as whispering sweet nothings into your ear—, or generally bringing a gift into your doorstep late at night.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcannon)

—He IS the biggest jerker ever, if he has anything to release steam off him from all the stress he was dued, he would be in his private bathroom, bottoms on his ankles and jerking off. Even when he gets irritated in the most slightest things, it doesn't matter, he jerks off in his office.

K = Kinks (one or more of there kinks)

—Just as i mentioned at Dirty Secret, he loves shibari or rope bondage, tying his s/o up to watch them unable to do anything turns him on so much.

—Lactation Kink, he sucks the life off of your tits every chances he gets. It makes it better when you're lactated and producing him the sweetest milk from you and yourself only.

—Belly Bulging, absolutely loves the sight of your belly being swollen from the amount of times he had came inside you.

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

—No doubt your shared bedroom, he isn't in the idea of getting caught by his own crewmates since he a reputation to keep.

—His private office, letting you suck him off under the table, OR fucking you against his desk.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, kreps them going)

—Generally his s/o, whenever they come into teasing him or planting to seduce him in the middle of his work, he wouldn't doubt shoving you onto your shared bed.

—Lingerie's, especially colors of red or blue in the bedroom worn by his s/o.

N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn off's)

—Anything that would cause pain to their s/o or something that causes blood.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill)

—He preferes giving oral to his s/o, definitely a god at eating you out. His tongue laps at you and knows where to touch. Although if his s/o insists on blowing him, no way he'd decline his opportunity, he groans when you blow him too.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? Or slow and sensual?)

—a 50/50 on each, his pace would be slow and sensual when the moment is calm and casual, however when he's irritated the change of his pace is quickly noticable. His pace is rough and in between of fast and slow, loves getting all his anger out with his pace.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies, how often)

—NOT a big fan at all, if he decides that he wants to fuck, he likes to take his moment with you and not completely rush it, therefore quickies only come in whenever he needs you and he's terribly late on a mission or a meeting.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks)

—A big no no to him, once again, he has a reputation to keep. He doesn't want his reputation to be destroyed or be messed with, so therefore, no risks.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

—He lasts about 3 rounds, his stamina isn't quite long but neither does it go too fast. He's in between, he could handle 4 rounds when he's too pent up.

T = Toys (do they own toys? Do they use them? On their partner or theirself?)

—He's not a fan of experimental and prefers vanilla sex, however, he does own a cock ring to stabilize his hard-on whenever they have a moment. If his s/o is eager to try toys with him, he'd only use a vibrator against them.

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)

—VERY, very unfair, he's into the idea of humiliation from teasing, teasing their s/o whenever he gets the chance to. Speaking to them during the moment to enlighten the silence. Absolutely loves your flustered face whenever he teases you.

V = Volume (how loud are they, what sounds they make)

—He's fairly quiet but enough to be heard closely, he releases pants and groans under his breath and his breathing deepens.

W = Wildcard (A random headcannon for the character)

—okay this isn't NSFW or anything part of this whole part but, I genuinely think he's a gift giver towards his s/o. He's not exactly into pda but he's not against it, he enjoys gifting all various things that reminds him of you most importantly. He shows affection towards his gifts and picks only the finest stuff to give you.

X = X-ray (Let's see what's going on under those clothes)

—It's cut, slight curve, definitely a little pale base like #EAD3C5, tip is #E6ABA7, trimmed twice a month yet grows to be messy, 8.96in 4.5 girth, fluid is #F0E3DD, flavour slightly salty.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

—Fairly in between, he's not always in the mood but whenever you do ask him he's always on the go.

Z = Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

—It isn't easy for him to sleep at all, since he has insomnia it takes time for him to drift off. But eventually, after being tired with you, he falls asleep right beside you while hugging you against his chest.

#one piece #op #cokou #law x reader #trafalgar law #law smut #trafalgar op #trafalgar law smut #trafalgar one piece #trafalgar law x reader #one piece law #i love law #one piece smut #one piece x reader

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