#what are ya askin? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chvoswxtch · 11 months ago

Text

teach me

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: you want frank to teach you self defense, but it doesn't quite go the way you expected.

warnings: swearing, some angst, mentions of guns, explicit sexual content (minors dni)

word count: 8.3k

a/n: what better way to end this year and start the new one than with our favorite hot bodyguard. don't ask me how many times I watched that scene with him and amy. it was for science. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

[previous chapter] | [next chapter] | [series masterlist]

“You’re being a dick.”

“Hey, you said you wanted to learn.”

“You’re still being a dick.”

“Yeah yeah, you ain’t gettin’ no sympathy from me, sweetheart. Now c’mon, try again.”

It was a good thing the cabin was isolated in the middle of the woods, because if anyone had been looking in the living room window at that very moment, they would’ve definitely called the police in horror. Frank had a gun in his right hand that was trained on you, and while he wore a neutral expression on his face, your brows were furrowed in pure annoyance and there was a faint scowl on your lips.

Letting out a huff of irritation, you kept your eyes focused on the gun in Frank’s hand, getting back into somewhat of a fighting stance again. Clenching your hands open and closed a few times, your teeth sank down into your bottom lip before you suddenly rushed forward in an endeavor to take the gun out of his hand.

But just like he had done the past seven times you tried this, Frank easily managed to block your attempt. He grabbed your wrist in his free hand and spun you around swiftly, pulling you back firmly against his chest while a deep chuckle sounded right next to your ear.

“That was real cute.”

Letting go of you, Frank took a step back and lightly pressed at the back of your knee with the heel of his boot, sending you down to your knees below him. He decided to take it a step further and used the toe of his boot to gently shove at your ass, causing your hands to fly out to catch yourself, rendering you on all fours in front of him. Turning to narrow your eyes at him over your shoulder, the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth let you know that was very intentional.

“You know, if you wanted me on my knees, all you had to do was ask.”

“That right?”

Grumbling a string of curses under your breath, you pushed yourself back up onto your feet and turned around to shoot a death glare in Frank’s direction. His plush lips instantly parted into a crooked grin while he looked at you, cocking his head to the side slightly while his eyes twinkled in amusement.

“Aw, what’s wrong baby, hm?”

“I already told you, you’re being a dick. You’re supposed to be teaching me-”

“Then why don’t you quit actin’ like you know everythin’ and start askin’ questions, yeah?”

“How the hell am I supposed to know what questions to ask? I asked you to teach me. Teach me means tell me what to do.”

“And when have you ever done what I told ya to?”

As you opened your mouth to protest, Frank arched one of his thick brows and shot you a pointed look, and your rebuttal quickly died on your tongue. You did have a history of ignoring his instructions completely and doing whatever you wanted anyway. With that in mind, you let out a deep exhale through your nose and crossed your arms over your chest.

“Okay, that’s…fair. But this is completely out of my area of expertise. I have no idea what I’m doing. I’ve never even held a gun until four days ago. And for the record, when it comes to something serious, I do listen to you. This is serious, and I’m listening.”

Originally when you asked Frank to teach you self defense with a gun, he was completely against it. He made the argument that with him around, you wouldn’t have to worry about that, to which you reminded him of the incident where two people tried to kill you in your own home where you had nothing to protect yourself with and no knowledge of how to in the first place.

The two of you went back and forth about it for at least an hour. He made the case that it was a one time incident that would never happen again, and argued that nothing was ever going to happen to you in the first place anyway because he showed up to take care of it. You argued back that Frank wouldn’t be by your side twenty-four seven anymore and would eventually be assigned to someone else, possibly taking him far away for extended periods of time.

In the end, you wore him down like you usually did until he gave in and you got your way.

Frank took in the impatient and stubborn expression covering your features, the one he had become all too familiar with and grown to adore. You were a force to be reckoned with when you wanted something, just as much as he was. Even though he didn’t want you to ever have a reason to use a gun, he would rather know you were safe and could handle yourself in his absence if it came down to it.

“Alright, alright. Wipe that pout off your face and c’mere.”

Doing your best to conceal your tiny smile of victory, you went to stand in front of Frank, but he held his large hand out to stop you and motioned for you to move back a little.

“Keep your distance, okay? You don’t wanna be too close. Now, step one.”

Frank reached out to grab your wrist and brought your hand up towards the barrel of the gun, placing his large hand on top of your own and squeezing gently to signal for you to grab onto it. Once he felt your tight grip on the barrel, he slid his hand over to grab onto your forearm and pushed against it, which caused the gun in his right hand to shift directions. It was no longer aimed at you, but pointed at the wall to your left.

“You wanna take the gun offline, yeah? Look.”

Glancing up at him briefly, you nodded to show him that you were paying attention. When he pulled your arm back in the position it was before, aiming the gun at you once again, you quickly redirected your focus back to his large hands. To reiterate what he was trying to explain to you, Frank repeated his demonstration two more times to make sure you understood.

“Offline, right? Offline, right? And push hard, as hard as you can.”

While Frank’s eyes were locked on you as he demonstrated the first step, you were studying his movements, committing every detail to memory. It seemed simple enough in theory so far. Keep your distance, grab the barrel of the gun, and push it away from yourself hard. When he let go of your arm, you let go of the gun, and you looked up to see that Frank was already watching you.

“Show me.”

Without hesitating, you swiftly reached out to grab the barrel of the gun and forcefully pushed it to the left. Frank let you redirect it to a certain point, and then pushed back to hold the gun in place. His strength was something you couldn’t combat, and as you kept pushing at the barrel, his resistance made the gun almost wobble in your hands.

“Attagirl. Easy, easy. Relax.”

Frank reached out with his left hand and grabbed onto your wrist, gently squeezing it to steady your hand.

“Alright, now step two, you go for that wrist, yeah? You get control. Go.”

Immediately you reached out with your right hand to wrap your fingers around Frank’s wrist to grab onto it tightly. Giving a slight shake of his head, Frank pulled your hand off of his wrist and guided it underneath his wrist instead.

“Look, underneath, yeah? Underneath. Go for the joint. Joints are weakest.”

Everything Frank was showing you seemed so simple that it filled you with a false sense of confidence. With your right hand under his right wrist, you gripped onto the barrel tightly with your left hand and took a step back as you tried to tug it away, thinking it would spring loose. Frank let out a grunt of disapproval and pulled his right arm back, easily slipping the gun out of your grasp completely and causing you to stumble forward a bit. He had a somewhat stern look on his face as he wagged the gun in your direction twice.

“Easy, bang bang. Don’t ever pull a gun towards you. You push it away.”

Letting out a huff of annoyance as your previous overzealous confidence fizzled out, you looked up at Frank as he held his left hand out towards you to signal for you to stay in place. He wasn’t teasing you anymore like he had been earlier. This wasn't Frank that had made you strawberry pancakes and caressed your legs while they sat in his lap as the two of you shared breakfast this morning. This was Frank that nearly sent your ex to the morgue instead of prison. He was back in full protective bodyguard mode.

“Listen to me. Use your legs, get underneath, and twist. Don’t pull, twist. Yeah? C’mon, show me.”

Taking a deep breath, you gave a slight nod and went over the steps in your head. Grab the barrel of the gun, shove it away from yourself, slip your other hand under the wrist joint, and twist the gun away. Your lips faintly twitched as you silently recited the steps to yourself three times for good measure. Frank didn’t make a move to rush you. He kept his eyes on you and waited patiently until you were ready to give it a try.

Sucking in one more deep breath, your tongue darted out to wet your lips, and you sprung into action. Taking a quick step forward, you reached out to tightly grab the barrel of the gun with your left hand, and while you pushed it away to the left, you simultaneously slipped your right hand under Frank’s wrist. Twisting the barrel of the gun forcefully to the right caused Frank’s wrist to twist with it until he was forced to let go, and in that short window of weakness you were able to pull the gun out of his hand with a hard step backwards.

Glancing down at the gun in your hands, your eyes went wide with surprise and your mouth hung open as you let out an incredulous laugh.

“Holy shit, that actually worked!”

Frank held his hands up like you had just made a touchdown, and he started to clap as a proud tooth bearing grin stretched over his lips.

“Look at that, huh? Who got a gun, huh?”

Looking up at Frank, your lips parted into a huge grin of your own while you held it up like a trophy and spoke in a proud voice.

“I have a gun.”

“Attagirl. You’re goddamn right you do. You did good, sweetheart. Real good. Feels good, yeah?”

Biting down on your bottom lip, you let out a soft laugh while admiring the gun in your hands. Well, more so admiring the fact that you were able to actually take it from Frank. The only reason you felt comfortable holding the gun right now was because Frank had shown you the clip was empty before he started demonstrating the basics earlier.

Pointing a loaded gun at Steven had been different. You were blinded in a fit of rage, not thinking clearly, but deep down you knew there was no way you would have actually pulled the trigger. However if you had been level headed, you probably wouldn’t have taken it from Billy, even if he offered.

“Yeah…yeah it does.”

And it did feel good. It made you feel strong…less helpless. Frank was giving you back a sense of safety and security that had been stolen from you when you were first threatened by the Defenders of Freedom. Even if you never used this lesson, and you genuinely hoped you wouldn’t have to, you felt a surge of confidence knowing that you were at least capable of protecting yourself in some capacity.

“Okay, step three.”

A pinch of confusion settled between your brows as you looked up at Frank when he mentioned a third step, and you noticed that he wasn’t smiling anymore. A grim look had settled over his features that sent a chill of unease down your spine.

“You just took a gun off someone that wanted to use it on you. What d’you do.”

The delight of pride had disappeared from his face and was swiftly replaced by a shadow of severity that was now coveting his sharp features, and the elated grin that was on your own lips had slowly fallen from grace. It was a rhetorical question you both knew the answer to, but you hadn’t factored in a third step. It hadn’t even crossed your mind, and Frank could see that in your eyes.

“You use it on them. Don’t matter who they are, you do not hesitate. You got that?”

Looking down at the gun in your hands, the weight of it was suddenly too heavy in your palms. Step three was a reminder that step one and two weren’t just to boost your confidence in protecting yourself; they were steps to defend yourself. Swallowing thickly, you nodded your head in silent understanding.

“Good. Show me.”

Frank’s voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. It wasn’t a command, but it wasn’t a suggestion either. Placing both of your hands on the gun the way he had shown you to properly hold it, you took a deep breath, slowly raising it to aim in Frank’s direction. You weren’t sure if it was the fact that he knew the clip was empty, or that this most likely wasn’t the first time he had stared down the barrel of a gun, but he looked completely unphased. The canvas of his face was expressionless, but his eyes were what you had learned to read. Only right now, you couldn’t understand what they were trying to tell you.

The gun trembled slightly in your grasp, as if every cell in your body knew exactly how wrong it felt to point a gun at Frank, loaded or not. The self defense lesson you wanted for a possible yet highly improbable scenario had quickly become too heavy and realistic, and you were quickly regretting even asking for it.

“Show me.”

“I’m not doing that-”

“It ain’t loaded-”

“Frank, I don’t want to-”

“What’d I say, huh? I don’t care who it is, you do not hesitate. Ever. Now, show me you understand.”

Frank’s tone was a little more forceful, but the volume of it was still even and somewhat soft. You knew there were no repercussions if you didn’t pull the trigger. He had learned early on that he couldn’t make you do anything you didn’t want to, and you trusted him enough to know that he would never try to force you. Frank never demanded anything of you, he always asked.

But you had asked for this, and he wanted you to follow through with it.

Clenching your jaw, you let out a shaky exhale through your nose, and you slowly squeezed the trigger like he had taught you to yesterday when you were out in the woods using cans as target practice. The click that sounded caused you to flinch, and it seemed to echo loudly in the living room. Frank on the other hand didn’t visibly react to it at all.

Without another word, you placed the gun down onto the coffee table a little too forcefully and headed towards the back door, wanting to put as much distance between it and yourself as possible. Frank caught your wrist before you could get too far and gently tugged you back towards himself.

“Hey-”

“I’m going for a walk.”

“No, you ain’t. You ain’t runnin’ away, you’re gonna stay here and talk to me. We ain’t doin’ that not communicatin’ shit. Why are you upset?”

“I told you I didn’t want to do that-”

“You asked me to teach you. I said no, but you kept on beggin’. What did you think this was gonna be, huh? You think you get a gun off someone, and it ends there? No. As soon as you get control and take it, you use it. No negotiatin’, no questionin’ it, you do it-”

“And what if I can’t, Frank?”

The distress in your voice made him pause and clench his jaw. He could see that you were visibly upset, and for a moment he wondered if he was being too hard on you. You said it yourself, this was not your area of expertise. It was his. Frank had years of professional training under his belt. Pulling a trigger was something he didn’t even have to think twice about. It was an automatic response. The aftermath of what followed didn’t even make him bat an eye. There were always casualties in war.

But you weren’t a soldier, and having to actually pull the trigger on someone would be something that haunted you for the rest of your life if it came down to it.

Letting out a deep exhale through his large nose, Frank stepped forward and wrapped one of his arms around your waist to pull you into his embrace while using his other hand to slip his fingers gently into your hair to brush it back before cradling your face in his right hand.

“Listen to me. If it comes down to you, or someone else, you do whatever you gotta do to save yourself, you got that?”

The rational part of your brain knew that Frank was right. If you had taken a gun from Cavella or Walker, you would’ve had to shoot them. There’s no way they wouldn’t have missed the opportunity to kill you if they had it. But the emotional part of your brain was struggling to figure out if you could handle the consequences of taking someone’s life, justified or not. Frank could see the internal conflict in your eyes, and he lightly brushed the calloused pad of his thumb along your cheekbone as the rough timbre of his voice broke the tense silence.

“Hey, no one’s sayin’ you gotta shoot ‘em point blank, alright? I’ve seen your aim, and it ain’t all that great anyway. You’d be lucky to scare ‘em off with firin’ a terrible shot just so you could get away.”

Rolling your eyes at his comment, you let out a dry laugh. As much as you wanted to be annoyed, he was right. You were terrible. You didn’t hit a single can yesterday, even at close range. You did manage to scare the shit out of some crows in a tree though.

“You are such an ass.”

The edge of Frank’s mouth twitched up into a light smirk while giving your waist a gentle squeeze.

“And you’re cute thinkin’ you could actually do some damage. I know a blind guy that can hit targets better than you. Look, you gotta stop gettin’ upset ‘bout things that might not even happen, alright? If it ever comes down to it, remember that you’re the one controllin’ the gun, yeah? It ain’t controllin’ you. Wherever you aim, the bullet’s gonna go. You can shoot ‘em in the leg, foot, shoulder, hell shoot ‘em in the dick for all I care. That’ll keep ‘em down for a while. You just promise me you’ll pull that trigger. You get ‘em down however you want, and then you get the hell outta there. That’s all you gotta do, yeah?”

Frank dipped his head to catch your eyes, staring intently into them. Letting out a deep breath, you bit down on your bottom lip and nodded while placing your hands on Frank’s biceps. You could do that. Injuring someone just to get away was a lot more manageable for your conscience. Frank lightly grasped your jaw in his large hand, his bottom three fingers wrapping around your throat while his index finger and thumb held your jaw. He tipped your head back so that you had no choice but to look up at him.

“Lemme hear you say it.”

Staring up into his warm brown eyes, you gazed up at him silently for a moment before speaking.

“No hesitating. I promise.”

“Attagirl. C’mere.”

Frank leaned in to capture your lips in a soft and sweet kiss. Sometimes it amazed you how easily he was able to talk you down from the ledge. Frank was a man of few words, but he somehow always knew exactly which ones to say to ease whatever anxieties were weighing on your mind. And the distraction of his plush lips against yours also certainly helped.

Ever since the other night by the fireplace, every kiss between the two of you that started out soft and sweet had a way of evolving into something more passionate and insatiable. Maybe it was the months of denying your feelings for one another, or maybe there was just some magnetic pull between your souls, but whatever it was, neither of you could get enough.

Before you could even register that you were moving, Frank was lifting you up by your hips and setting you down on the dining table, his hungry kisses leaving a searing path along your jawline and down the column of your neck.

“Did good today, sweetheart. Did real goddamn good, made me so proud.”

Frank’s gravely songs of praise in your ear only further ignited the flame of desire that was burning in your lower belly. Despite the warmth of his large palm touching your bare skin as he slipped it underneath your shirt to caress your lower back, a shiver teasingly tumbled down your spine from the contact.

“I had a good teacher.”

“Nah, I think you’re just a natural, baby.”

“I thought I had terrible aim?”

“Didn’t say you were perfect. Everybody’s got their strengths and weaknesses.”

A soft laugh escaped your lips before you could stop it, and you could feel the rumble of Frank’s deep chuckle vibrating in his chest that was pressed against yours.

“Wow, you really know how to sweep a girl off her feet, Castle.”

Frank pulled back slightly to look down at you, his eyes traveling over your figure to drink in the sight of you sitting on the edge of the dining table before they slowly wandered back up to meet your gaze. He arched one of his thick brows as a smug smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Yours are currently danglin’, sweetheart.”

Before you could retort with a smartass comment of your own, Frank’s mouth was back on your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses along your sensitive skin. Feeling his tongue gliding along your collarbone and giving it a delectable love bite, you closed your eyes and let your head fall back, granting Frank all the access he wanted to your skin.

The feeling of his lips on your neck was so heavenly you almost didn’t notice that he had popped the button on your jeans and tugged down your zipper until he was lifting you up slightly with one arm around your waist and pulling the denim down your hips with his free hand. As soon as your jeans were completely off, your own hands were reaching for Frank’s belt buckle, but he grasped your wrists and halted your attempt. A soft noise of protest quickly slipped past your lips.

“Frank-”

“Shh shh shh. Spread your legs for me, baby.”

A rush of heat pooled in your cheeks at his request, but you obliged immediately. Frank leaned in to kiss you deeply, swiping his tongue along your bottom lip and nipping at it softly while his thumbs hooked into the waistband of your panties and slipped them off too slowly for your liking. The sudden contact of the crisp autumn air coming in through the open windows hitting your slicked folds had you gasping, and Frank used that to his advantage by slipping his tongue into your mouth to caress your own sensually.

“Spread ‘em wider for me, sweetheart. C’mon.”

Frank’s deep voice was quiet, but it nestled in your ears as comfortably as it did between your thighs. He pulled you a little more towards the edge of the dining table, and when you spread your legs further for him, he sank down to his knees in front of you and let out a low groan of appreciation at the sight waiting for him.

“Attagirl, that’s it. God, look at you. You should see how fuckin’ pretty you look right now, baby.”

His large hands gripped onto your soft thighs, kneading and squeezing your flesh with his thick fingers. Frank didn’t waste a second before diving into your cunt face first. As soon as his warm and wet tongue began to strum your clit like chords to his favorite song, your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head. He brought your legs over his broad shoulders, burying his face so deep into your core, you weren’t sure how he was breathing.

Your hand quickly found a fistful of his slightly grown out hair that you gripped onto to steady yourself, and when you gave it an experimental tug, the vibration of his groan against your clit had your thighs trembling more than any toy you had ever gotten for yourself before.

“Fuck…Frank…”

Frank let out a loud grunt as he pulled back for just a moment to stare at your glistening pussy almost in awe, his hooded eyes briefly meeting your own for a second before focusing back on the display of your desire for him.

“Taste so good sweetheart, so fuckin’ good. You got no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.”

He dove right back in, this time slipping his tongue inside of you to explore while using his large nose to bump against your clit repeatedly. The stimulation had your back arching off the dining table and a loud moan echoed throughout the cabin. Tugging harder at his dark roots, you pushed your hips up against his face, desperately and greedily searching for more. None of your exes had ever eaten you out like this before. Most of them didn’t even know what the fuck they were doing, and the rest gave up after a few minutes because it “took too long”, but still expected you to suck them off until your jaw ached.

But Frank…God, Frank knew what he was doing. His thick fingers were digging into the soft flesh of your thighs, following your hips wherever they went. The groans that continued to vibrate against your clit not only turned you on because of their stimulation, but because you could tell that Frank was genuinely enjoying eating your pussy. The fact that he was getting just as much pleasure out of it as you were had you on the brink of an orgasm alone. Frank had a way of making every experience feel brand new, and it made you realize just how much you had been missing out on in your previous relationships.

That familiar bubbly feeling was building up inside of you, cresting slowly like a tidal wave ready to wreak havoc on an unsuspecting beach. Your breaths were coming out in short staccato variations, and at this point you were roughy tugging at Frank’s hair with both hands while essentially fucking his face. Not that he seemed to mind at all. If anything, it just seemed to make him more feral.

“Yesyesyesyes…please-fuck, Frank…I…I…”

Frank pulled you even closer towards the edge of the dining table to where your ass was basically hanging off of it, and the jolt of his large palm smacking against your ass was the only indication you got that he understood what you were trying to tell him.

You thought you had more time, but your climax suddenly crashed into you without further warning, and your hips were stuttering as Frank continued his incessant assault on your pussy with his tongue. It seemed like he didn’t want to let a drop of your essence go to waste, and while you appreciated his enthusiasm, the way he was flicking his tongue rapidly against your overstimulated clit was riding that very thin line between pain and pleasure, and you were weakly shoving at his broad shoulders.

“Okay okay okay…Frank…fuck, please! Just…give me a second, God-”

Frank dragged his tongue up your entire pussy from your entrance to your clit one last time before granting you mercy with a low growl. While you panted heavily laying back against the dining room table, he was pressing featherlight kisses to each of your inner thighs, but due to your body feeling like a live wire, they felt like faint shocks that had your body jolting every time his wet lips met your heated skin. He chuckled deeply watching you respond to his touch.

“You alright there, sweetheart?”

Lifting your hand, you gave him a weak thumbs up, and Frank just laughed even louder in amusement at that. The sound of his laughter combined with your own blissed out post orgasm state had a lazy grin stretching over your lips. You felt his large and rough hands slipping underneath your shirt, gently caressing your bare skin and grabbing your waist while he leaned over you, kissing your lips deeply. The taste of your own sweet tang on Frank’s tongue had your head spinning, and a soft hum sounded in the back of your throat. Even though you were still recovering from your first ever oral orgasm, the feeling of Frank’s hard cock straining against his jeans and rubbing against your inner thigh reignited your greed.

Brushing your hand slowly down his chest, you palmed him firmly through his jeans, and Frank let out a grunt while pushing himself further against your hand. He broke the kiss momentarily to nuzzle his large nose against your throat.

“If ya need a minute-”

“No. Now.”

While you unfastened his belt in record time, Frank placed his hands on the table on either side of your head and pulled back to look down at you with a soft chuckle at your impatience. He lightly cocked his head to the side, his brown eyes darkened with lust as they roamed over you shamelessly. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, and a crooked smirk caressed his mouth.

“Anybody ever tell you what an impatient lil thing you are?”

A smirk of your own tugged across your lips while you slipped your hand into his jeans, stroking his thick cock through his briefs, earning a quiet grunt from Frank.

“Apart from you every day since we met? Maybe a few other people. Is my lack of patience really what you wanna talk about right now, big guy?”

The sultry tone of your voice did not go unnoticed by Frank, and in fact, it only made his cock swell even more in your welcoming hand. He slowly moved his hips back and forth as you teasingly stroked him and leaned down closer towards you, nuzzling his nose along your throat before whispering huskily into your ear.

“Got somethin’ better in mind.”

By the time Frank had carried you down the hall to the master bedroom, the two of you had left a trail of forgotten items of clothing strewn like breadcrumbs along the path from the kitchen. He let you push him back against the mattress and grabbed your hips to pull you on top of him, his lips moving in sync with your own, but when you felt the swollen head of his cock bump against your clit, you suddenly pressed your palms firmly against his chest and pulled back while breaking the kiss.

“Wait.”

Frank immediately paused, loosening his grip on your hips, his lust clouded eyes clearing a bit while searching your own and wandering over your figure for the source of the problem.

“What? What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

The concern in his rough timbre combined with the worry in his soft brown eyes made your heart melt. A gentle smile covered your lips while you reached out to delicately hold his strong jaw in your hands, and you leaned in to kiss his lips softly.

“Nothing’s wrong. I just don’t think it’s fair you get to have all the fun.”

Frank’s apprehension morphed into confusion, and a few creases nestled between his thick brows.

“Huh?”

Letting out a soft laugh at how adorable he looked when he was confused, you decided to explain with actions instead of words. When you moved backwards off his lap to settle between his legs, Frank raised himself up on his elbows, following you with his eyes as he watched you intently.

“What are you-holy shit.”

Frank’s jaw went slack the second you leaned in and wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, swirling your tongue around it once before beginning to take a few inches into your mouth. Placing one of your hands on his left hip, you teasingly moved your lips up his length until he was out of your mouth with a satisfying pop. Pursing your lips, you let a string of glistening saliva slowly drop onto his tip and used your free hand to spread it down the rest of his thick cock for lubrication, and after wrapping your fingers around his girth, you began to twist your wrist up and down slowly.

You could feel how tense he was through your hold on his hip. Glancing up at him through your lashes, you noticed that he was staring directly at you, completely mesmerized, and was gripping onto the sheets so tightly you thought he might rip them. Moving your hand from his hip, you reached out to caress his hand, and he slowly loosened his grip, his knuckles no longer stark white. His plush lips were parted, and he was breathing hard, his thick brows knit in complete focus. You allowed him to slip out of your mouth for just a moment to smile softly up at Frank.

“Just relax.”

The sweet sound of your voice seemed to reach his ears, and after a few more moments of hesitation, Frank finally laid back against the mattress and let his head rest on the pillows. He moved the hand that was underneath yours to grab your wrist, turning your hand over so he could slot his fingers between yours to hold it. His other hand slowly came over to card his fingers through your hair before cradling the back of your head. Giving his hand that you were holding a light squeeze, you continued to hold eye contact with Frank while slowly sucking him off, using your hand that was around his base to work over what wouldn’t fit in your mouth.

The sound of his quiet grunts and low moans sent a thrill through you, and you wanted to know just how vocal he could get. Letting go of his hand, you placed both of your palms firmly on his hips and relaxed your jaw completely, taking his entire cock into your mouth until his tip hit the back of your throat. A guttural groan ripped from the depth of his chest and his lower abdomen instantly tensed up as he gripped onto your hair.

“Goddamn-fuck…fuck, sweetheart. Do…do that again. Please…please baby, do it again.”

Taking in a deep inhale through your nose, you prepared yourself to deepthroat Frank’s thick cock again, and this time you held him there until your eyes started to water. He let out a louder moan of your name, and that caused the throbbing between your thighs to evolve from dull to downright unbearable. You thought about sneaking your hand downwards to get a little relief, but Frank had been so unselfish when he ate you out, only focused on your pleasure, and he deserved that same treatment.

All of a sudden, Frank roughly tugged at your hair, and that made you moan around his cock. You heard him let out a quiet fuck under his breath in response. He gave your hair another tug to get your attention, and his cock slipped from your lips as you licked them and tried to catch your breath while staring at him, noticing that he had sat up.

“C’mere.”

He didn’t give you a chance to protest before he grabbed your throat and pulled you in close to kiss you fervently. Frank’s large and rough hands grabbed your hips and pulled you onto his lap again, and you let out a soft whine against his lips when the head of his cock rubbed against your sensitive clit.

“Frank, I didn’t get to finish-”

“As much as I’d love to come down that pretty throat, I need ya baby. Need ya now.”

Grabbing the base of his cock, Frank positioned himself perfectly with your entrance and pulled you down slowly, letting you feel every single inch of him. Your mouth hung open at the sensation, and your body instantly tensed up. You thought Frank had been deep the other night, but he was reaching an even greater depth inside of you right now if that was possible. There was a slight burn as your walls stretched to accommodate his size, but your brain barely even registered it, because Frank was slipping his tongue into your mouth and kissing you sensually as if he wanted to steal the very essence of life from your lungs.

Once he was fully nestled deep inside of you, a high pitched cry left your mouth, and he wrapped his arm around your waist tightly.

“Shh…s’alright. Just relax for me, sweetheart.”

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you clung to Frank as he wrapped both of his strong arms around your waist and held you tightly against his chest. Both of you sat there for a moment, your foreheads pressed together as you panted. He rubbed his large calloused hand up and down your spine soothingly, his teeth grazing along your ear lobe and biting down gently to distract you from any discomfort. Slowly, the tension in your body melted, and you gave an experimental roll of your hips that had your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“That’s it…attagirl. Take your time, sweetheart. M’right here. I got you.”

This felt right. It felt…perfect. Those three little words almost slipped out right there. Grabbing onto the back of his neck, you pulled Frank in for a passionate kiss, trying to pour every ounce of emotion you felt into it. He groaned quietly against your lips when your nails lightly scratched at the back of his head where his hair was shaved closely to his scalp. Moving your hips in slow circles, you grinded down onto Frank’s cock, and he flexed his hips upwards to match your rhythm. The other night by the fireplace had been the best experience of your life, but this…this was something you couldn’t put into words.

Placing your palms against Frank’s firm chest, you pressed lightly and he followed your silent instructions, allowing you to push him onto his back. His large hands gripped firmly onto your hips as he gazed up at you, and you kept your palms flat on his chest while slowly riding his cock. Neither of you could tear your eyes away from each other. The feeling of his warm hands leisurely moving up your bare skin made you shiver, and a soft gasp left your lips when he groped your breasts and squeezed gently. The calloused pad of his thumb gingerly brushing over your peaked nipple had you arching your back, pressing your chest further into his eager hands.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful.”

The sincerity in Frank’s vulnerable whisper nearly brought tears to your eyes. He wasn’t saying it because he thought it was what you wanted to hear, he was saying it because he felt it, and he was making you feel it too. The way he was staring up at you like you were the only thing that mattered had your heart swelling inside your ribcage like a balloon about to burst. It had been a long time since you mattered to someone, and you felt lucky it was Frank. The look in his eyes was almost too much to handle.

Letting your head fall back, you closed your eyes for a moment as you writhed on top of Frank, getting completely lost in how good it felt to be connected to him in such a raw and intimate way. One of his hands traveled up from your breast towards your throat, and he wrapped his fingers tightly around it almost entirely, forcing you to face him again. He pulled you down over him so that your forehead was pressed to his, and the two of you stared deeply into each other's eyes.

“Frank-”

“I wanna see you. Wanna see those pretty eyes when you come for me. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?”

Being this close to him, you noticed for the first time that there were scattered flecks of honey in his deep brown eyes. They looked so warm and inviting, like two melted pools of chocolate you wanted to drown in. The eyes that could say so much with a single look. You thought you could see it…that flicker that he felt it too. You wanted to tell him so fucking badly, but you didn’t want to ruin the moment, and the way he was hitting that spongy spot inside of you that could cause supernovas to appear behind your eyelids was making it hard for you to speak at all.

Holding his face in your hand, your eyes drifted back and forth between his own as you stared down at him in complete devotion, your lips parted as you nodded your head frantically while short and breathy moans escaped you. Frank’s eyes were focused solely on you, one of his hands holding the back of your head while his other remained around your throat. It was getting harder and harder for you to keep your eyes open, but you didn’t want to miss a single second of this moment.

It was also getting harder and harder to not voice the sentiment that was overflowing from your ribcage.

“Frank…I…I-”

Frank cut off your words by capturing your lips in a heated kiss. The softness of his lips against yours, the heat of his bare skin pressed to your own, his thick fingers wrapped around your neck and tangled in your hair, his pubic bone rubbing just right against your clit…it was all too much. Breaking the kiss, you buried your face into the crook of his neck and let out a sharp cry of his name. Your nails raked harshly down his chest when your climax finally peaked, and a white hot cloud of hedonistic desire blinded your vision.

Your entire body seized up, and you could faintly hear Frank whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he gripped your hips and repeatedly thrust up into you, fucking you through your orgasm while barreling towards his own. The sensation of that alone was enough to nearly send you free falling into another. The intensity of your orgasm had rendered you an incoherent and moaning mess. Frank dug his fingers roughly into the flesh of your hips and came with a deep grunt that nearly sounded like a growl, letting out a loud groan of your name.

The room felt like a sauna. Your face felt overheated, and your hair was stuck to your cheeks and the back of your neck with sweat. Frank had his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, hugging you against his chest. The feeling of his strong heartbeat thundering against your own chest kept you anchored to the moment while your body trembled with aftershocks. You couldn’t move, and you didn’t want to.

As soon as Frank made a move to sit up and pull out of you, a desperate and high pitched whine of protest fell from your lips while you gripped onto his shoulder and dug your nails into the muscle.

“No no no no no, please…don’t move.”

Frank instantly stilled, bringing one of his hands up to brush the sweaty hair stuck to your forehead and neck away. He pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead and gave your body a gentle squeeze in his strong arms.

“Okay, we don’t gotta move yet.”

Letting out a soft sigh of relief, you buried your face further into Frank’s neck, letting the comforting scent of his cologne calm you. He gently carded his thick fingers through your hair and kept holding you tightly to his chest while resting his head against your own.

“I just wanna stay like this for a while.”

“We can stay like this as long as you want, sweetheart.”

When you started to regain your senses, you started to wonder just how true that statement was.

How long could you and Frank stay like this before reality came knocking?

Your home wouldn’t always be a crime scene. Eventually the two of you would have to go back to work. Now that everything had changed between the two of you, what would a new normal look like? Frank’s job required him to be with someone constantly. What happens when he gets assigned to someone else? What if it’s another woman? Even though Frank was broody and unapproachable initially, you had still found him attractive, and all the time you spent together over the past few months led you right here to this moment.

What if that happened with someone else? What if the next woman he was assigned to found him just as attractive? What if she wanted him? You and Frank hadn’t really established what this was between the two of you. Were you together? Did he want to be together? Would he still want to be together if the next woman was prettier and less stubborn and actually-

“Quit it.”

The sound of his deep voice breaking through the silence interrupted your spiraling.

“What?”

“Whatever you’re overthinkin’ right now, let it go.”

Removing your face from the crook of Frank’s neck, you pulled back slightly to peer down at him in pure curiosity.

“How do you even-”

“I can practically hear the gears turnin’ in your head, sweetheart. You keep thinkin’ so hard, smoke’s gonna start comin’ out of your ears.”

Giving him a pointed look expressing you weren’t amused, he let out a quiet chuckle and gently brushed the calloused pad of his thumb along your cheekbone.

“C’mon, you ain’t got nothin’ to worry ‘bout right now. Just relax, yeah?”

Letting out a soft sigh, you nodded and laid your head back against Frank’s shoulder, nuzzling your nose against his neck as he hugged onto you tightly. For a while, you two laid there wrapped up in one another, and you were able to let some of your anxieties go. The afterglow of your shared euphoria was peaceful, and you could’ve even fallen asleep at that moment, but something Frank said earlier suddenly popped back into your head.

“Hey Frank?”

“Hm?”

“Do you really know a blind guy that has a good aim with guns?”

Frank let out a quiet snicker at your question.

“He don’t use guns. He’s too…Catholic.”

That did nothing to answer your question and only fueled you with more inquiries.

“But…you said he could hit targets better than I could.”

Frank simply grunted in response. You stayed silent waiting for further explanation, but when one didn’t come, you continued your questions.

“How?”

“Hell if I know.”

Sitting up a little bit again, you stared down at Frank in complete puzzlement.

“But…he’s blind. That doesn’t make any sense.”

“No it don’t.”

“So…he’s-”

“An asshole. Go to sleep.”

Letting out a soft laugh, your eyes widened slightly as you gently smacked his chest.

“Frank!”

“What? Cause he’s blind he can’t be an asshole?”

“Well…no. But…how does he do it?”

“You’ll have to ask ‘em yourself.”

“I thought Billy was your only friend.”

Frank pulled a look of faux offense at that, his thick brows knit as he let out a puff of air through his lips.

“Ouch. I got other friends, smartass. And I never said he was one. He’s more of a pain in my ass.”

Frank gently pinched your ass which made you squeal before erupting into a fit of laughter.

“Hey!”

A huge grin split across your lips as he suddenly flipped you both over, managing to keep himself nestled inside of you while he pinned you beneath his large body. As he leaned in to kiss your lips, you brought your index finger up and pressed it against his mouth.

“I’m not done. I have more questions.”

“Course you do.”

“I wanna know who this mystery blind man is with good aim, and your other friends that you suddenly have that you’ve kept from me. While you’re at it, is there anything else you’re hiding, Castle?”

While your question was intended to be teasing, a dark look flashed across Frank’s eyes, and it made your breath hitch in your throat. He stared down at you silently for a moment, and it made you wonder just how much more there was to Frank that you hadn’t uncovered yet. As soon as you removed your finger from his lips, Frank leaned in closer, caging you in with his large hands on either side of your head. As he loomed over you, he slowly thrust his hips against your own, pulling a sharp gasp from your chest. His breath was warm against your lips while he nuzzled his large nose along your own, his rough voice coming out in a husky whisper.

“Think I liked you better when the only thing you could say was my name, sweetheart.”

tags: @thyme-in-a-bubble @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @avengerstower-houseplant @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed @fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @polskiperson @imperihoe @v4leoftears @harperdoodle @spideyvibez @joalslibrary @cherry-berry-ollie @sorrowfulfragmentation @kdogreads @sumo-b98 @blackhawkfanatic @gloryekaterina @whistle1whistle @starbritestarlite @callmebrooklynbabes @hallway5 @scarletfvckingwitch @bifuriouslatina @soupyspence @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @wonwoosthetic @linguist-breakaribecca @nerdytreeflower @mrs-bellingham @smhnxdiii @s3riou2 @slavic-empress

#frank castle #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x reader #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle fic #frank castle smut #frank castle series #the bodyguard series #bodyguard!frank castle fic #bodyguard!frank castle series #bodyguard!frank castle x reader #the punisher #the punisher fic #the punisher smut #the punisher series

3K notes · View notes

starmapz · 2 months ago

Text

(TONGUE) TIED

𓉸 husband!ryomen sukuna x f!reader [non-curse au]

𓉸 kinktober smut oneshot

❝ you can't possibly get home fast enough in the eyes of your husband who's been undressing you with his eyes all night. to his delight, he finds that you're just as eager as he is and feeling a little freaky, which means sukuna gets to pull out your collection of toys and ropes. ❞

𓉸 warnings ; 18+ only. contains explicit content. this is kinda freaky idk what was up with me. explicit smut. rough sex. safe word established but unneeded. unprotected. manhandling. nipple play (f! receiving). neck kissing. marking. biting. toys (rabbit vibrator, nipple clamps). bondage. overstimulation. fingering. oral (f! receiving). dacryphilia. use of pet names (girl, woman, minx, princess, brat, baby). praise. choking. stomach bulge. cervix mention. light impact play. degradation (slut). creampie. cumplay. fluffy aftercare. kinda soft!sukuna?

𓉸 words ; 7.5k.

main masterlist || kinktober 2024 masterlist || love & company masterlist

Your husband has been mentally undressing you from across the table all night, his attention drawn to you as though you have your own personal gravity meant for him only. There’s barely a second throughout the entirety of dinner where his eyes aren’t filled with an unspoken fire directed at you.

It’s not like it’s unusual to catch a glimpse of Sukuna eyeing you up, but his lack of attention towards the rest of your friends at the table hasn’t gone unnoticed.

You wonder if he caught a glimpse of the crimson panties adorned in black lace with garter straps that held up your stockings and a matching crimson and lace bra before you left to meet your friends. It was intended to be a surprise for your husband for later but given that you couldn’t often find him much further than a room away from you at most, you wouldn’t be shocked if he’d noticed.

“Can ya stop undressin’ your wife at the table and listen, dumbass?” Toji’s voice is dripping with sarcasm, a brow raised as at last he manages to get Sukuna’s attention. “I was askin’ if you can watch Megs and Miki next weekend for a day so I can take my wife out on a date.”

“Hm? Ask Uraume,” Sukuna grumbles, an air of irritation around his words. The two of you are free next weekend and Uraume already stated they weren’t able to, which Sukuna would know if he’d bothered to listen.

Toji sighs but before he can explain to Sukuna what he’s missed, your heel jabs into your husband’s shin and his knee collides with the bottom of the table. The commotion silences the entire table, pulling Uraume and Shiu’s attention to the glare you’re getting from your husband. In spite of his grit teeth and clear irritation, there’s no malice behind his glare. There never is when it comes to you.

“Christ, fine, yeah, whatever,” he crosses his arms over his chest with a huff, snarling in disapproval at Toji’s teasing chuckle.

“Tell your wife thanks,” Toji launches a shit-eating grin at the tattooed man, who only sneers in return, rolling his eyes.

“Tell her yourself,” he grumbles, sulking in a way that only your stubborn husband would.

Still, his eyes are back on you and the commotion is forgotten in almost an instant when he hears your candied laugh at something Shiu’s said.

It’s not like you weren’t already planning on surprising him with new lingerie once you got home, but you could already tell you were in for a ride tonight.

And you couldn’t possibly be more right about that as he shoves you forcefully up against the door the moment you’re back at your apartment. His grip on your hips is bruising as his lips capture yours roughly.

“Fuckin’ teasing me all night, woman,” he grumbles against your lips, sliding a hand down your thigh until his fingers slip beneath the hem of your dress. Hungry, his hands explore and squeeze the plush skin of your thigh until his fingers come into contact with the garter straps keeping your stockings in place.

He pulls back from your kiss-swollen lips to grin at you with lidded eyes. “R’ these for me, princess?”

“Always, Ryo.”

“Fuck,” he mutters, dipping his head down into the crook of your neck. He hungrily nips and bites at your skin, fingers mindlessly fiddling with the straps before sliding up to where they connect with your panties.

A guttural groan leaves his lips as he the tips of his fingers brush along the decorative lace of the panties you’re wearing for him. He pulls back from your lips, pupils blown impossibly big with unadulterated lust.

“Shit, what’d I do to deserve this?” He grins with lidded eyes.

“I’m asking myself that too given how much of a menace you were at dinner,” you mumble, thumbs brushing the base of his jaw that’s slack in a playful sneer.

“Oh whatever. Actin’ like you don’t like gettin’ ogled by me,” he rolls his eyes in exasperation, squeezing your hip with the hand that’s still firmly holding you against the door. His other hand moves suddenly to brush your core, a deep chuckle leaving your husband when you gasp. “Go ahead n’ act like ya haven’t been wet all night, ya ain’t foolin’ me.”

You pout up at him, lip jutting out playfully.

But that’s just the thing about your husband. He may have more bravado than any one person could need, but it wasn’t an act. He’s right. He’s always right when it comes to you. He knows you like the back of his hand, just like he knows what it means when you dress up for him.

“Feelin’ a lil’ freaky tonight, princess?”

Your cheeks flush red at his implication, but you nod.

“You’ll use the safe word if it’s too much?” He confirms.

You nod again. “I promise, Kuna.”

The smug grin Sukuna flashes you is only in your vision for a moment before he’s throwing you over his shoulder with ease. You’ve long grown used to him manhandling you, but it doesn’t make it any less jarring when your ass is suddenly in the air and you’re clutching to the muscle shirt that hangs over his broad shoulders.

You let out a yelp as he tosses you on the mattress of your shared bed, his expression fiery with hunger. That look alone has you clenching your thighs together, an action that doesn’t go unnoticed as your husband’s tongue swipes his lower lip.

He’s on top of you in an instant, lips grazing the skin of your chest from the deep V neckline of your dress. It’s gorgeous on you, it suits you like it was designed just for you to be admired by him, but Sukuna’s lust is so overbearing he wants to tear through the neckline and have you exposed before him.

Your palms splay on his shoulders and press against the muscles to push him away, a sign that has him staring at you in confusion with one hand gripping at the fabric of your dress.

“I know what you’re thinking,” you warn. “Don’t you dare. This is new.”

He scoffs in disbelief, practically whining for you.

“You’re so impatient, Kuna,” you scold. “I’m gonna run out of clothes at the rate you rip them.”

His lip curls in frustration. “So?”

You raise a brow insistently. “I need clothes?”

“Nah, you don’t,” he grins, lowering his face back to yours to press a kiss to your lips. You tilt your head in an effort to give him better access, your hands sliding over his shoulders and around his neck as Sukuna dominantly takes control of the situation again and-

RIP.

You pull your head back. “Are you incapable of listening?” You scold him, brow furrowed.

He’s shooting you a shit-eating grin. You’ve dealt with his bullshit so long that you already know the answer is yes when it comes to things like this of little consequence. He’s got a good grasp on when the best moments are to push your buttons and much to your dismay this was one of them. Contrary to what most people would likely assume, Sukuna is a good husband, a great one even.

Words don’t come easily to him, he’s only talkative during sex and he’s frequently grumpy over inconsequential matters. He’s imposing and aloof around those he doesn’t know and seems to make a game out of scaring your co-workers the first time he meets them. He doesn’t know how to tell you that he loves you through words. It’s simply not in his vocabulary.

That’s the thing about Sukuna, he finds other ways to express his love. Ways that fill you with warmth and assure you that yes, he does love you, more than words could ever say.

Sukuna’s surprisingly attentive. Even when he seems as though he isn’t paying any mind, even when he acts as though he’s bored, he’s listening. His grumbly and standoffish attitude is little more than an act around you. He pays attention to the little things and takes care of chores when he sees that you’re too exhausted to do so. He sneaks back to stores where you mention liking something so that he can buy it for the next birthday or anniversary.

He knows your favorite flowers, he knows the kind of jewelry you like best. He knows that although you can hold your own on a motorbike, you love to be his little backpack. He knows you love to watch horror movies just to jump into his arms and have an excuse to cuddle, even though you don’t need one.

He knows the exact spots that you like to be kissed, the places that send a shiver up your spine and make your back arch and toes curl. He knows you love the way his tongue piercing feels cool in contrast to the warmth of his tongue against your clit.

He knows that when you make a point of dressing up for him like tonight, it’s with the intent of letting Sukuna have his way with you for the remainder of the night.

It’s for that exact reason that he ignores your remark about him not listening and leans down to nip at the sensitive skin of your neck, eliciting a pleasurable gasp. You grip at his shoulders for purchase, squirming beneath him as he tugs at the dress, ripping it further until he’s opened it from the front.

He feels your chest raise as you take a breath to scold him, moving fervently to capture your lips in a hungry kiss, and to shut you up. He grins against your lips, positioning himself between your thighs before he pulls back to admire you.

And god, does he ever love what he sees. The deep red and black lace of your panties and bra sets his skin alight with want, eyes trailing from the way your breasts are pushed together so deliciously down to where the garter straps attached to your panties meet the thin layer of sheer stockings that cover your legs. Everything about the lingerie, everything about you is so incredibly sexy, and he plans on making that known.

That is, after he rips everything off of you just like he did your dress.

Really, can you expect anything less from him at this point?

“Shit, y’ look gorgeous,” he breathes against the skin of your breast, holding himself above you with a strong forearm. His other hand moves to find the clasp at the back of your bra, easily releasing it and humming with delight as your breasts bounce when they’re freed.

The moment the cool air hits your nipples, Sukuna’s warm tongue licks a long, languid stripe up the left one, the contrast of his tongue piercing always sending your mind into a frenzy as you let out a moan, clutching at his shoulders.

You’re so tiny beneath him, a given when your husband is a nearly seven foot tall man with abs of steel, but it doesn’t make it any less daunting all these years later when you feel the massive tent in his pants brush your legs.

Sukuna knows better than to tear you apart without warming you up for him, though. He’ll have you cumming three times over before he dares to sheath his massive cock in your tight cunt.

Tonight is no exception. He sucks on your nipple, the sensation sending shivers down your spine as his tongue circles the sensitive bud. You can hear him fiddling with something on the bedside with the hand that’s not holding him up, but it’s a distant sound when his tongue piercing is bringing you so much pleasure.

His lips separate from the swollen skin of your breast with a pop, a satisfied smirk on his kiss-swollen lips as he pulls one of your wrists from his shoulder, pinning it above you.

“Gonna be a good lil’ wife f’r me tonight?” He growls darkly, waiting for your consent.

You nod eagerly, biting your lower lip.

Sukuna’s eyes flicker to the movement of your lips, jaw ajar as his chest rises and falls with a lust-filled hum. “Words.” It’s a command, not a question.

“Yes, Ryo,” you breathe. His tongue swipes his lower lip hungrily as he leans forward and begins to tie a very expensive soft red rope around your wrist. His movements are practiced, the action something Sukuna took extra time to research and learn to make sure you would be comfortable, even as he ties you to the headboard. Your second wrist is tied expertly as well and Sukuna pauses to press a gentle, loving kiss to your nose.

Momentarily, Sukuna’s eyes fill with adoration, but as he grabs the next rope and moves down the bed to tie your ankles to the end of the bed, that look in his eyes changes to one of dominant lust. He stands back, a predator admiring its prey, caught and splayed out beneath him. The red matches your panties in a way that sends his brain spiraling when you tug against the rope and your breasts jiggle with the effort.

“You tryin’ the run, woman?” He teases, his voice dangerously low and raspy. He knows this is as much of a game to you as it is to him when you whine in protest, eyes filled with desperation. “Needy lil’ thing.”

You pant, wriggling against the restraints as the wet patch of your panties grows increasingly uncomfortable and your need for friction increases. Your husband slips his shirt over his head, your eyes trailing the length of his built form, the way his tattoos seem to accentuate the ridges and valleys of his pecs and abs. Even in the dim light of the bedroom, he’s a work of art.

He drops his jeans to the floor, leaving only a pair of black boxers on over his aching cock. The confines of his boxers are equally as uncomfortable as he’s certain your panties slick with arousal are, but he needs to take care of preparing you to take his length before he can deal with that.

Crawling back over your body, he pinches your nipple in time with biting your lower lip, your broken whimper swallowed by his lips. The rough pads of his fingers are harsh against the swollen bud as his tongue presses into your mouth, dancing with yours dominantly.

“Gonna make you feel so good tonight, m’kay?” He pulls back to wait for your needy little nod before dipping down to lick a languid and teasing stripe straight up the wet patch of your lace panties. Your pussy tingles with anticipation as you tug hard against the expertly tied ropes binding your wrists to the corners of the bed.

With desire-filled eyes, Sukuna shoots you a devious glance as he hooks his fingers beneath the fabric of your brand new panties. Your eyes widen as you catch his train of thought. “No no no, not again Kuna, don’t you-”

RIP.

With a coy grin decorating his lips, he tosses the torn remnants of your panties aside, sliding the garter straps and stockings down your legs. You begin to let out a sigh at his actions, choking on it when the flat of his tongue meets your folds as he licks another long stripe up your needy cunt, dripping with desire. The contrast of his warm tongue and the cool metal of his piercing never fails to send a shiver up your spine.

Gasping at the sudden contact, you buck your hips towards him. Sukuna responds in turn by plunging his tongue into your entrance, large hands moving to hold you in place and keep you from your desperate wriggles. You can no longer greedily move your hips against him for friction, you’re completely at his mercy and he won’t take that opportunity for granted.

The harsh contrast of his metallic piercing against your gummy walls is something that in all these years you never did get used to, every prod of the metal sending pleasure straight to your core.

Sukuna knows this, he knows you like the back of his hand and he knows just how to drive you to your first orgasm of the night as he pulls back slightly, flicking the metal of his piercing over your clit.

He moves his tongue expertly over your clit before sucking harshly on the bundle of nerves. Pressure builds quickly in your lower stomach and you clench your fists, pulling hard against your bindings as you struggle to find purchase for your hands with nothing to grip, unable to move your legs beneath Sukuna’s insistent and bruising grip on your thighs.

With one final harsh suck and a flick of his piercing over your clit, you cry out “-Kuna!” and come undone as your orgasm washes over you in waves. Your body jolts with each languid lick of Sukuna’s tongue over your clit as he draws out your orgasm, pussydrunk lidded eyes watching your blissed out expression.

Your body goes limp and Sukuna pulls back, moving back over the bed to sloppily kiss you, your arousal coating his lips and chin as the taste of you lingers. He’s surprisingly gentle as he purrs in your ear.

“Good girl.”

Eagerly, the burly man positions himself back between your legs, rolling his shoulders back and stretching his neck to the side, a display that has you watching the way his muscles tense and relax with each movement, veins popping in his upper arms.

One look at the man between your legs always has you questioning how you got so lucky. The ridges and valleys of his abs decorated in tattoos are a sight to behold that would make anyone jealous, you might even call it a common occurrence. The real treat with Sukuna though is the way he absolutely worships the ground you walk on.

He’s cold and a downright pain in the ass to everyone else, but since the day you met him, he’s always been soft for you. That’s not to say he can’t be a pain in the ass, after all you’re now down a dress and a pair of panties, and he has a bad habit of starting arguments over things that don’t matter among other small grievances that come between you, but he’ll never let you go to sleep upset with him.

There’s no sleeping on the couch, no ignoring one another for extended periods of time. Sukuna knows he can be a dick and he knows he’s a lot to handle, but you’re his girl and he wouldn’t dare lose what he has with you.

You’re his world, and he’ll do anything for you, even if he has a funny way of showing it. Sometimes, it’s by tying you to a bedpost and fucking you until you cry.

His eyes survey your body, tongue swiping along his lower lip as he admires the swell of your breasts, your curves, landing finally on your arousal dripping from your pulsing cunt.

“Shit, y’ look like such a pretty little slut for me,” he groans, palming his painfully hard cock. What Sukuna wouldn’t give to bend you over and fuck you right now, his restraint running thin. The only thing keeping him from doing so is the thrill of having you tied beneath him and wanting to take things slow. That, and the size difference between you that begs that he prepares you to take him.

Your chest still rises and falls heavily from the aftermath of your last orgasm, but Sukuna is too eager to wait for any semblance of overstimulation to pass as he slides the tips of his fingers featherlight over your puffy lips, passing over your clit.

A light moan drags from your lips at the sensation. You lift your head to watch where Sukuna’s digits part your folds. His eyes are blackened with lust as he twists his left hand to sink his middle and ring finger into your slick entrance.

Nothing turns your husband on more than watching your arousal coat his fingers, in particular on his left hand where his wedding ring is tattooed on in the same style as the rest of his tattoos. Watching the way you drip down his finger and over the tattoo is the sole reason he got particularly good at fingering you with his left hand.

As your body eagerly swallows his fingers, he tenses his jaw as need tightens in his lower stomach. He can feel his resolve pulling taut just as his boxers are with each desperate pulse of his hardened cock.

“Kuna, ‘m sensitive, go easy on- mmph!” Your words are cut off in a gasp as you writhe in his grasp, pulling both wrists and ankles hard against your restraints when he sinks his fingers in to their hilts until the tattooed ring is buried within your pussy. You drip down his wrist as he curls his fingers expertly, wasting no time in prodding at the plush of your sensitive spot.

“Atta girl, show me how needy y’ are for me,” he purrs, eyes locked with his fingers.

“F-fuck- Ryo-” You babble words out as he speeds up his ministrations, pulling you quickly back to the edge of an orgasm.

“Y’ gonna cum on my fingers?” He grins, taking his free hand to press down gently on your lower abdomen. The tension in your stomach coils and tightens with the movement and you buck your hips, eyes shut tight as overstimulation and pleasure mix in such a beautiful union that you think you’re seeing stars behind your tightly shut eyelids.

“Y-Yes, Kuna,” you barely managed between moans and pants to answer his question as he curls his digits faster, brushing your g-spot rougher with each curl.

“No runnin’ from me, baby,” his voice is low as he presses down harder on your abdomen to stop the way you’re shuffling away from him. Tears form in the corners of your eyes from the sheer amount of stimulation that’s heightening every one of your senses and with one last curl, you pull your knees inward hard as your second orgasm of the night hits you like a ton of bricks.

The tug of your legs against the bedposts make a loud creaking noise, but the ropes don’t relent, keeping your knees apart a fair distance still. Sukuna slows his movements as he drags each wave of your orgasm out. Your moans and whimpers are like a song meant for his ears only, one that he directs with his fingers just as a conductor might direct a choir.

“Thaaaat’s it, doin’ such a good job for me, princess,” Sukuna praises as he watches your chest heave, your head thrown back as you jerk with each wave of your orgasm. Slowly, he pulls his fingers from your pulsing walls, the movement dragging a pretty moan from your lips. Your body trembles, muscles twitching with each convulsion as you come down from your climax.

“Look at me,” your husband instructs commandingly, leaning over you. You obey, heavily lidded eyes finding his handsome face. “Open.”

When you part your lips, Sukuna brings his fingers to them, sinking his digits into your mouth. You make eye contact as you swirl your tongue around his fingers, drinking in your own juices. Sukuna can’t help the groan that leaves from deep within his throat at the sight of his wedding ring disappearing within your lips as you obediently lap up and clean his fingers.

In truth, he could watch this for hours if he weren’t throbbing in the confines of his boxers still.

“Such a good lil’ slut,” he moans, pulling his fingers back as he leans over you to kiss and suck on the skin at the top of your breast. Leaving a trail of hickeys at the edge of your breast, he soothingly laps at the bruising skin, following suit up to the crook of your neck as he decorates you in bites, painting you with purple markings that glisten with his saliva in the soft evening light coming through the window.

Your brain is foggy in the wake of your second orgasm and you watch as Sukuna suddenly hops to his feet before languidly making his way over to the bedside table.

“Y’ think you can handle me yet?” He asks, tilting his head in a cocky manner. You nod your head eagerly, but your husband clicks his tongue. “Silly woman,” he huffs, leaning down to a drawer filled with-

Oh fuck.

You squirm against your bindings, whining at the realization that Sukuna has his heart set on pulling orgasm after orgasm out of you tonight before he cums even once.

“You whining as though ya didn’t ask for this?” He chuckles, standing at his full height again with a cute pink rabbit vibe in one hand and a pair of nipple clamps in the other.

“Kuna, just wait a bit,” you beg, tugging on your restraints again. “‘M sensitive.”

“Sensitive?”

You nod.

“Was it not you beggin’ me the other day to fuck you through your oversensitivity, y’ lil’ brat?” He scoffs, tilting his head with his lips slightly parted. He sneers slightly as his eyes roll. “Oversensitive,” he taunts.

With that, there’s no escaping your husband as he crawls from the end of the bed towards you, splaying your legs further apart with his forearms as he sets the vibrator to the side. Your chest rises and falls with each heavy breath as you watch his movements.

Holding himself over you, he places several soft pecks on your left nipple, causing it to grow perky. Sukuna presses the flat of his tongue to the sensitive skin, flicking it with his piercing as it catches the bud. Your head is thrown back in a moan, fist balling as you tug at the rope.

The tattooed man catches you off guard as your eyes blearily rest on the ceiling while he clamps the first side to your left breast. You gasp, followed shortly by a whimper.

“Look so fuckin’ hot with this shit on,” he groans, following his movements on your right breast. With a flick of his tongue over your perky nipple, you moan again and he takes the opportunity to place the next clamp over the hardened bud.

Your back arches off the mattress as you cry out. With the chain in one hand, he leans back to admire you, tugging on them and smirking when you whimper. The sensation makes your head spin as your pussy pulses and drools for your husband.

“Shit.”

He’s aching in the confines of his boxers, cock throbbing and tip leaky, but he won’t waste this opportunity to have you tied and at his grace. It may be his absolute favorite thing to have you bound on the bed for him, but this is all about you. He wants the bed soaked below you before he even has the chance to get his dick wet.

He picks up the rabbit vibrator, your favorite out of the drawer of toys and one of his favorites to use on you and teases your entrance with it. The toy is cool, the cold silicone sending a pleasurable shiver up your spine.

With a tug on the chain of the nipple clamps, Sukuna sinks the tip of the dildo portion of the vibrator into your leaky cunt, your arousal from your previous two orgasms enough lube to allow the toy to slide easily into your entrance. He watches your lips part, back arching as he hits the first ring of resistance.

“It’s too much-” you squeak, just as Sukuna pushes the toy in deeper. You moan his name, pulling hard on your restraint as you attempt to reach out to him and stop his movement. He does pause to allow you a chance to adjust, though he knows you’re babbling about it being too much purely from overstimulation as tears prick in your eyes.

Dropping the clamp chain over your stomach, he reaches out to wipe your tears. “Doin’ so good,” he hums. You whimper as he sinks the toy in further. His muscular forearm flexes as he presses the toy heavily to your g spot.

“Ryo- Please,” you writhe against the rope as pleasure coils in your stomach once more. With the dildo fully sunk into your gummy walls, the rabbit vibe now sits comfortably against your clit, prodding at it as Sukuna twists his wrist lightly, the pressure of both sides of the toy sending you into a state of pure bliss.

The bliss is short-lived as Sukuna turns the vibrator to the lowest setting and your body jerks and jolts from the stimulation.

“Too much-! Toomuchtoomuch-” You cry out between gasps as you attempt to run from the toy. Sukuna’s large hand grips your waist tightly as he holds you in place. Not like you were meant to get far anyway with how well he’s tied you down.

“Shut up n’ take it, princess. You’re the one who asked for this when ya let me tie you up,” Sukuna growls, a familiar lust-filled darkness clouding his eyes as he kisses your inner thigh.

You shake your head wildly, but the overstimulation gives way quickly when he turns the vibration setting up a notch. You shut your eyes tightly with a moan as you arch into the toy.

“That’s it, baby. Gimme another orgasm, yeah?”

You swallow hard as you pull yourself up the bed barely an inch with a hard tug against the rope. Sukuna hums at the sight of your foggy eyes when they open once more, your head rising to watch where the toy meets your clit, the dildo swallowed by your needy cunt.

With the vibrating portion prodding your clit, Sukuna keeps it steady while twisting the rest of the dildo to brush your g spot with quick and rough thrusts. You can feel a third climax fast approaching as you arch against the toy, pressing into the vibrator.

With a click of a button, the vibrator goes up one more setting and you’re crying out suddenly as it pushes you over the edge.

As your walls clamp and pulse around the toy, your juices flowing out around the pink silicone, your moans become screams as overstimulation rocks you. The vibration is absolutely too much and yet you can’t get enough of it, squirming and wriggling in an attempt to escape the relentless friction.

Only when your cunt stops gushing out around the toy does Sukuna turn it off, leaving the dildo buried to the hilt within you as your chest heaves. With a sloppy squelch, the toy is pulled from within you and set aside. You shudder as you’re given a moment’s respite from the stimulation, your head falling back as you catch your breath.

“Whattaya think, pretty? You ready to take me yet?” Sukuna teases, waiting for you to meet his eyes. Your head swings up as you nod your head.

“Please baby,” you beg in such a saccharine sweet voice that Sukuna can’t help but indulge you. Well, that and the tension in his cock is growing physically painful, twitching against the confines of his boxers. It stands alert, slapping against his abdomen as it’s freed from the fabric.

“Since y’ beg so nice for me,” he purrs, sliding out of his boxers with his slutty upper thigh tattoos now fully on display. He positions himself over you, sliding his length through your folds repetitively and covering it in your slick as he leans down to capture your lips in a rough kiss. Holding himself up on one forearm, he wraps his free hand delicately around your throat as his thumb strokes the side of your neck.

You whimper at the friction provided by his cock, desperate to have him inside you, all the while the overstimulation clouds your brain and you can hardly make sense of any thoughts. All you know is lust and need. You pull against your restraints in an attempt to wrap your legs around Sukuna’s waist and pull him down, but it’s no use.

Your husband chuckles at your pathetic whimpers and whines that get swallowed by his hungry tongue shoved down your throat. “Poor thing,” he coos, pulling back to kiss a line up your jaw. “Such a needy lil slut for me.”

Sitting back on his heels, he reels his hips back and ruts his cock against your clit once before he positions himself at your entrance. Your body jerks as cum leaks from your cunt. Sukuna keeps his gaze fixed on your expression as he tugs once on the chain of the nipple clamps, pulling a whimper from your pretty, kiss-swollen lips. As your lips part, he drops the chain between them, biting his lip as the petite chain decorates your mouth so prettily.

His cock throbs again and he can’t wait a moment longer as he pushes the angry red tip of his cock into your pussy. Your head falls back into the plush pillows as he stretches you and pain and pleasure mix with overstimulation. It’s such an overwhelming sensation that your abdomen coils and pressure builds immediately.

At nearly seven feet tall, it’s no surprise that Sukuna is big, but being both long and thick is always a shock on your system, even after years of being with him. The size difference is immense and even three orgasms deep, your walls are tight around him as he pushes past the first ring of resistance.

Sukuna reaches forward with a groan, large hand wrapping around your throat once again. “Doin’ so good, my little minx,” he hisses as he continues to feed you inch after inch of his cock. His thumb gently rubs soothing circles into the skin of your neck until he bottoms out. He remains still, giving you a moment to adjust and uses the opportunity to lean down and press an uncharacteristically sweet kiss to your lips.

“Still good, princess?” He asks in a tender tone you don’t hear all that often from your gruff husband. He knows he can get carried away when you let him bind you to the bedposts and with the size difference between you, he wants your full consent before he considers moving.

You nod, bedposts creaking as you attempt to move your hand to cradle his face, unable against the restraints.

“Words, princess.”

“I’m good, Kuna,” you assure him in a muffled voice as you speak around the chain residing between your lips.

“Good girl,” he purrs, pushing himself up to watch where your bodies connect as he begins to rock his hips backwards in a slow pace, watching his cock sink back into you. He positions himself to brush your g spot with each languid thrust and as you moan and throw your head back once more, Sukuna’s fingers begin to put pressure on your throat. He restricts your oxygen with expertly placed fingers, your jaw going slack at the sensation.

Your mind goes blank, overtaken by a foggy high as all you can feel is Sukuna’s pace beginning to increase, each thrust sending pleasure through your body like a bolt of lightning. The ropes tied to you are pulled taut at each limb as you attempt to reach out and cling to your husband for purchase.

“Shit, you’re squeezin’ me so tight,” Sukuna groans hoarsely, relenting on your throat and letting oxygen back into your lungs as he slides his hand down between the valley of your breasts to feel your stomach. He places light pressure on your lower abdomen, the feeling of the bulge of his cock beneath his hand setting his entire body on fire.

Like you’ve set him off, he leans back and unties your ankles suddenly. Now unbound, you attempt to move your legs to straddle his waist and pull him deeper, but Sukuna has other plans.

You whine when he pulls out suddenly, loosening your arm bindings by about a foot on each side so that he can flip you onto your forearms and knees. Your forearms are nearly positioned in an ‘x’ below you thanks to the cross-sections of the ropes still tied to the headboard. The chain of the nipple clamp falls from your mouth as the clamps themselves brush against the blankets beneath you. The friction sends shivers through your body.

With your ass exposed to him, your husband lets out a guttural groan, nearly an animalistic growl as he kisses the plush flesh of your left cheek before biting down. You yelp in surprise, jumping as you attempt to get a glance of the hungry look in his eyes. Crimson eyes stare back at you as he licks the spot soothingly seconds later.

He presses a peck to your opposite ass cheek as well, nipping the flesh more gently than the previous one as he leaves his mark on your skin alongside the purple decorating your neck and collar.

Leaning back, he stands tall on his knees behind you and pushes back into your sopping pussy in one swift movement. You cry out in pleasure for him, fingers finally able to grip at the sheets for purchase and ground you as you become starry-eyed in pleasure again.

With a harsh slap to your ass, his hand slides down the small of your back and up your spine until he reaches your hair. Leaning over you, he presses you into the mattress, muffling your moans and screams with the blankets beneath. He keeps up his meteoric pace, every thrust causing your abdomen to twist and coil until you’re teetering over the edge, threatening to come undone beneath him.

“Ryo, I’m gonna- fuck-!” A muffled cry leaves your mouth between babbles as your legs quake in an effort to keep you upright. Your whole body jerks and shakes beneath Sukuna, your walls milking him for all that he’s worth. You’re so tight, gummy walls sucking and squeezing him so much that his movements grow sloppy, a sure sign he’s about to cum too.

“Ah shit, feels so good when you cum around me,” he groans, staring down at the ring of white arousal that coats the base of his cock. He wraps his free arm around your middle to keep you upright and held flush to him as your legs give out on you as he thrusts harder, the tip of his cock brushing your cervix. The sounds of skin on skin slapping in the room is so lewd and hot that it makes Sukuna’s head spin.

In a few more thrusts, Sukuna’s climax finally hits after a night of denying himself any amount of pleasure all for having you tied beneath him. The amount of cum that paints your walls is immense as his warm arousal fills you up and spills out around his thick member. His abs tense with each wave of his orgasm as he continues to thrust until your walls have milked every last ounce of cum from him.

He leans over you as he stills, holding himself up over your bare body as both of your chests heave in an effort to catch your breath. Both of you jerk and jolt on occasion as the aftershocks of your orgasms pulse through you.

With a kiss to the small of your back, Sukuna leans back on his knees, staring down at his throbbing length as he pulls out of you. He hisses through his teeth as your walls attempt to suck him back in.

“Shit,” he mumbles as he watches his cum leak from your pussy, dripping down onto the blankets beneath you. Running his tongue over his lower lip, he gathers some of the cum on his fore and middle fingers and presses them back into your pulsing cavern.

You gasp in surprise, entirely too overstimulated and your husband chuckles when your body jerks in response to that feeling before collapsing fully onto the mattress.

Pulling his fingers out, he deftly flips you back over and presses his fingers between your lips. You suck on the digits, cleaning the fluids from his fingers obediently with a hum. Sukuna smirks at you with lidded eyes as he pulls his digits back from your lips with a pop!

“Y’ did so good for me, princess,” he praises as he removes the knots from around your wrists and removes the nipple clamps to set them aside. Your eyes are still noticeably foggy as you come back down from your fourth and most intense orgasm of the night, so Sukuna takes the initiative to take care of you.

Sukuna isn’t the most adept when it comes to your emotions. If you aren’t blunt with him, he’ll often miss the signs that you’re upset and brush past any clues you drop for him. He may not always catch on to little hints you provide him, but he does try his best to keep an eye on you and provide nonetheless. That includes knowing exactly what the best kind of aftercare looks like for you.

He checks over both of your wrists and ankles for any sign that your harsh tugging on the ropes hurt you at all but he’s done far too much research to allow the ropes to bring you any harm.

Taking in a breath, he gets to his feet and starts the shower, reaching an arm out to test the temperature. When it reaches the temperature you prefer, he returns to the bed and lifts you easily into his arms bridal style. He relishes in the way you subconsciously cling to him, nuzzling your face into his chest like the monstrous biker with a reputation for being an asshole is your own personal hero.

Reaching the washroom, he gently places you on your feet although he knows your knees will buckle beneath you, so he holds you tightly to him, doing all the work as he moves the both of you into the shower as one.

As warm water washes over you and cleans all traces of sweat and other fluids from your body, Sukuna simply holds you tightly against him. When he feels you bury your face into his pecs after a couple of minutes, arms encircling his torso tightly, he knows you’re coming down from your climax.

“How d’ you feel, baby?” He asks. After sex is one of the few moments he does tend to get tender and gentle with you. He knows on any other occasion you can match his snide comments and keep him under wraps, but when it comes to aftercare he knows better than to get on your nerves.

He wants to keep you happy and in a state of bliss for as long as he can, enjoying the sweet and doting version of his wife he always gets after dicking you down so good that you can’t walk- which is exactly what he just did.

“Mmm, good, Kuna. You?”

He chuckles at the dreamy way your words come out, light as a feather on cloud nine. “Yeah me too, baby.”

Sukuna cleans you up as you move in slow motion post-orgasm, though he always keeps an arm around your waist to ensure you stay upright. It’s a sweet sentiment, knowing just how willing he is to not only do all the work of showering for the both of you but also hold you upright the entire time as well.

Once you’re both clean, he places one last kiss to the crown of your head, squeezing you tightly to him. He shuts the shower off and dries both of you off before finding his muscle shirt to throw over your head. It hangs off of you like a dress, the long holes on both sides where the sleeves have been cut off revealing the swell of your breasts.

Your husband’s head tilts as he admires the sight of you draped in his shirt, a yawn overtaking your features. He can’t help but to think of just how lucky he is to have married the hottest woman on the planet. And to think that woman lets him tie her up?

His cock throbs at the thought and he needs to push it aside out of fear of breaking you. He gets you settled in bed, pulling the covers over you before he pulls on a pair of boxers.

Sukuna slides into bed behind you, pulling you flush to him as his strong arms wrap around your middle. He buries his head into your shoulder, inhaling the fresh scent of floral body wash. Everything about you lulls him into a comfortable near-sleep state as you hum contentedly in front of him, feeling safe and happy in his embrace.

“I love you, Ryo,” you whisper over the dulled sounds of cars outside the window.

“Mhm, I know, brat.”

Sukuna may not say he loves you with words, but he shows that he does through the way he takes care of you. As his fingers move to gently card through your hair, you know Sukuna is showing that he loves you too.

main masterlist || kinktober 2024 masterlist || love & company masterlist

𓉸 a/n ; thanks for reading! i had so much fun with this one, please feel free to check out my husband!sukuna au that inspired this work and as always reblogs, comments, and likes are super appreciated ♡

𓉸 taglist ; @tojis-ball-sack @rathreads @sukunadckrider @nxcxllxsevens @r0ckst4rjk

920 notes · View notes

theonyxranger · 1 year ago

Note

YA GIRL IS SO FAR PAST DUE FOR AN OIL CHANGE IM JUST FUCKIN WALKING THIS WEEK BUDDY AYEEEEE! MY KIA SEDAN (NAMED REBEKKIA (REBECCA + KIA)) IS A HUFFIN AND A PUFFIN. SHE'S ALL THREE WEED SMOKING GIRLFRIENDS AT ONCE! SHE'S CRAZY. SHE NEEDS HER TIRES ROTATED ALSO CAN I GET A HELLLL YEAEH CUZ SHE PULLS A LITTLE TO THE LEEEEEFT HER ALIGNMENT IS OFFFFF. SHE'S GOT THAT DICK CURVE IF U KNOW WHAT I MEAN

KIA? I HARDLY KNOW YA

#what are ya askin?#mewto

6 notes · View notes

whatyadrawin · 9 months ago

Note

What nsfw headcanons for Jason and Micheal? I imagine that he is a Himbo when it comes to having sex. Like so nervous and liking it. And Micheal has stamina, meaning her can go on for hours.

Thanks for the question!

I honestly have a few different kinds of headcanons for them both, more for Jason though because he's my special boy. Here are some:

Jason

He is just mindless, he will fuck anyone and very rough. He does what he wants with your body and ups and leaves when he's finished.

He is shy about it, he needs you to put the moves on him. He just lets you do whatever you want to him and he enjoys the ride.

He is an eager learner and only lives to serve you, he will obey any command you give him and performs well.

He's a needy lover, always wanting to have his body as close to yours as possible. When you orgasm he keeps his dick inside you and just holds you until you fall asleep. Jason never sleeps, he isn't really alive so he uses the 'down time' to just be with you and protect you as you lay on him. You don't need a blanket either because his body is always running hot...probably from being in hell that one time lol.

Straight up, Jason never tires because he is supernatural. He can get erect at will and always has buckets of cum ready to be released at all times.

Michael

He is more of a dubcon king, he will come and break you open at any time, and you always end up loving it. You could be at home drying yourself off after a shower and he will just be in the doorway fully erect and breathing heavy, "Hey now, nuh uh, don't you dare, I JUST SHOWERED GIVE ME A BREAK!" like you were training a misbehaving dog. He will ignore your plea and just go to town on any and all of your holes. Maybe a spray bottle will work to correct his behavior.

He is highly protective of you, even when you both are entwined in passion he is alert of his surroundings that is... until you get on top of him and control the show, then he loses his focus and whimpers to get you to slow down. But you don't listen and he tries to stifle his vocalizations when he cums.

He is like a ghost, he just watches you perform depraved acts on yourself, you think egregious acts of self love will summon him, you think he is an animal that hunts you down when he hears your mating calls, but he doesn't. He just watches you, he doesn't take action no matter how tight his pants get, he just watches. He takes pleasure in knowing you want him so bad that you would make a fool of yourself openly, expecting him to come and free your frustration. You would have to do something really wild and exposed for him to feel the need to come and stop you, then you can get him.

Michael always feels more cold to me, he doesn't really have your feelings or best interests in mind and everything he does always relates back to what he wants.

Anyway, I can't get carried away lol I have chapters to write! My other fics have different head canons for these 2 if you haven't read them already.

And to anyone reading this:

BAM SELF PROMOTION!

#what ya askin #slasher community #michael myers headcanons #jason voorhees headcanons #friday the 13th #halloween #slashers

23 notes · View notes

chaotic-mystery · 4 months ago

Text

PROFESSOR’S PET

Pairing: Art Professor!Joel AU x Teacher Assistant!f!reader.

Summary: Professor Miller wants you to teach the class tomorrow morning & you need help being less nervous. What if he’s the reason you’re nervous, though?

Content Warnings: SMUT 18+ only! MDNI. Age gap but not specified, power imbalance (professor x TA, reader stutters when nervous, academic weapon, teasing, fingering, one (1) pair of panties ripped to shreds, oral (f receiving), spitting, pussy slaps, praise kink, name calling (good girl, sweetheart, baby, smart girl), dirty talk, talking you through it, spanking, condescending a little bit, cum eating, face riding, nasty freaky kisses to share your cum, no use of y/n.

Authors Note: Good morning, babies! This is for @studioghibelli & their fantastic writing challenge. This moodboard was absolutely brilliant. As someone who did not go to college & can’t retain information well, I tried to research as much as I could about art so I hope I did it justice! 🩵 || wc: 2.6k || beta’d by @wannab-urs <333 ily sm gin ||

“You want me to do what?”

It came out more as an exclamation rather than a question but you didn’t care at the moment.

He couldn’t have been serious.

“I want you to teach the class tomorrow about your two favorite artists. That’s all I’m askin’” Professor Miller says, stuffing his papers back into the desk drawer for the night.

“B-but you know I don’t talk well in front of them, I constantly stutter and they don’t respond well to me yet, I-”

“Do you need me to help you with the lesson plan for tomorrow? I can come over and help you write down some notes on what you want to talk about, but I need you to get more comfortable around them. We have a long school year ahead of us, and it’s not going to work if you’re afraid to speak up here.”

He was annoyed having to explain his reasoning, but he was right. Even if you didn’t want to hear you were doing a terrible job as a teacher's assistant. Scratching your head and turning so he can’t see the look of shame on your face, Joel shuffles towards you and hands you your coat off the coat rack.

“It’ll be fine. All you need is a push and you’ll do great. Hurry before we miss the train.”

You nod and take your coat to put it on, the tan fabric becoming darker as you step outside and rain starts to pelt off it. Mr. Miller sighs and hoists his briefcase above his head and takes his other hand to the side of him searching for yours until he finds it and grabs it, guiding you through the raindrops until you get under the stone archway to take a brief moment for the rain to calm down.

“Can’t believe I’ve had you as a TA for almost two years now and have never once seen where you live or even know about you outside of this place.” His finger wags slowly behind his head, indicating he was referring to the school.

“I don’t really like to talk about myself, but my parents made a really good name for themselves. I was put through all the good schools they could toss their money at. I was supposed to go to school to be a lawyer, but I wasn’t interested in the slightest. I told my mom I wanted to study visual arts and she wasn’t too surprised, said I always had an eye for that sort of thing. I want to become a professor here one day but for now I just want to learn everything I can, ya know?” You smile at the ground as you think about teaching here someday and hope it doesn’t come off as dorky.

He’s so much older than you and probably knows so much between art and life. You could only hope to have as much knowledge as him when you become a professor.

“I think that’s amazing honestly. I hope to one day see you as a professor here whenever you feel like you’re ready.”

His grin eases your nerves, and you hear the train coming, taking his hand once more to run to the train stop. Your shoes squeak against the vinyl flooring of the moving cabin until you get to a seat by the foggy window, plopping your bag right next to you with Joel sitting across the small white table that was tattered from all the use.

The train ride to your town wasn’t too long and Joel read almost the entire time, asking you every now and then if you were okay. Once you catch a taxi to take you home, it drops you off right at the black iron gates. He steps out of the sleek black car and is a little taken aback by the size of your house.

“What’s the matter? I told you they had money.” You giggle and push the buzzer on the stone post to the left of you, telling them to let you inside. Almost instantly, the gates push open and you walk along the pebble drive, flinging your book bag over your shoulder as he follows a few steps behind you, taking in the beauty that is your house.

Once you get inside and introduce him to the small group of staff working, they tell you your parents went out for the evening to some charity event and there’s food in the fridge if you were hungry.

The nerves about teaching tomorrow overrode the feeling of being hungry, but you still offered Joel anything he could’ve wanted. He settles with water, and you leave him in the study where he’s content with gazing at the walls covered in full bookshelves about any and everything.

You come back in and shut the rosewood pocket doors quietly, careful not to disturb him from the current book in his hand about astronomy. The way his fingers grazed over the corners of the pages made your stomach tingle just a little bit, the dim lighting from the chandelier glowing a soft yellow on his face as he was entranced by the contents.

Get it together, he’s off limits, you tell yourself.

There was no ring on his finger and he always talked about his lonely weekends, but still. You were his teacher's assistant.

You clear your throat and set his water down on the desk before you turn on the green bankers lamp sitting at the edge of the table. Joel closes the red leather book and looks up at you, noticing the water, and he puts the book back where he found it.

“Thank you.” He raises the glass to you before taking a sip, the muscles in his neck contracting as he swallows, and it brings that same feeling as before that you felt in your stomach.

So, give me two of your favorite art pieces and the artist with some facts about them. You don’t have to start from their birth or anything.”

He pinches his slacks right on the thighs to hike them up just a little before he sits down in the wooden chair at the head of the table, his hands on the back of his head as his fingers interlock against his skull.

Focus.

You pace back and forth at the other end of the table, Joel’s eyes on you intently as you fiddle with your fingers, running through the list of artists you tend to gravitate towards.

“I got it. Botticelli.”

“Nice choice. Why him?”

You continue to walk back and forth and sort out which facts about him and his artwork you love to tell people they wouldn’t normally know.

“I love the painting Birth of Venus but um- it’s not technically her birth story, it’s m-more like the story continued after her birth; when she steps off her shell and onto the island of Cyprus. S-she’s being blown onto…” you take a deep breath in and put your head in your hands.

“I’m sorry, Joel.”

You turn away from him and look out the window trying to compose yourself.

“Just take your time, I’ve got all night, kid.”

Turning to face him, he’s sitting straight up now and you can tell he’s listening to every word coming out of your mouth. His dark jacket is tight on his arms and it’s just enough to show the outline of his muscles.

“She’s being blown onto shore by the spring winds which is Zephyr, who is accompanied by his wife, Chloris, who’s also blowing Venus’ shell to shore. Her pose was most likely inspired by an ancient marble statue in the Medici’s collection, which we refer to as the Medici Venus, the first ever nude female sculpture in classical art.”

You manage to recite all of that without stuttering this time and he grins proudly.

“I knew you could do it. Good job. Now, what I want you to do is write down bullet points on this note card with a keyword that’ll spark your mind and draw the facts out of you fluently.”

Your cheeks warm at first and then your brows furrow at his instructions.

“What do you mean, professor?”

“Come here, I’ll show you.”

He scoots his chair back enough so you can stand to the side of him and watch as he scribbles down some words on the lined piece of paper. The red ink flows effortlessly and he pushes it to you, pointing at what he did.

“It’s just a keyword that’ll spark your brain to talk about it. If you write down everything you’re gonna say, it sounds like a robot trying to read it. This way, you won’t get overwhelmed by everything you wanna say and you can sound effortless.”

You nod as the gears in your head turn, the idea making perfect sense now. Reaching out to grab another note card, you bend over to write on it, starting at the top. You feel Joel’s hand on the small of your back very lightly as he watches you write, the pen in your hand moving faster than he’s ever seen.

“The next one is gonna be the technique he used for the painting.”

You write the word ‘technique’ shakily, trying to breathe manually.

“What about his technique?” Joel asks, his hand not moving from your back.

“H-he um, he used the tempera technique, it’s when you d-dilute a raw egg with water and mix watered down p-pigment with it and um-um paint with it.” Your words get breathy and all at once you stand straight up, clearing your throat once more.

“You’re still pretty nervous. Is it me? Am I making you nervous?” The condescending tone in Professor Miller's voice makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up, feeling like you’ve been called out.

“Partially, maybe.” You admit and turn away from him but you don’t move from next to him.

He runs his hand over his scruff and smirks slyly.

“Do you trust me?”

Without hesitation you nod yes.

“Turn around for me.” Joel’s hands grip your hips and spin you around in your spot.

“Now read your little note card for me. Come on, you’ve got this, smart girl.”

That was all you had to hear to make your stomach flip and arousal flood your body. Smart girl.

His hands never leave your hips as he holds you still, subconsciously rubbing the fabric of your skirt on the waistband while you read your notes. You manage to get through half of them before you stutter out and stop again.

“Again, from the top.” He says softly, still holding onto you. Just as you begin to speak, you feel yourself being guided backwards and you don’t stop talking, going with the flow of things.

For the purpose of learning, right?

Joel puts you right against his thighs, his head peeking over the side of your arm to see what bullet point you were on.

“Keep going, you’re doing such a good job.” He whispers as he rubs your back gently.

“Botticelli used the tempera technique, which is when you mix a r-raw egg with water a-and you dilute yo-our pigment with water and mix th-em together.”

His hand ever so slowly moves around the side of your thigh until he’s on the top of it, his thumb dangerously close to the point of no return. Your breaths were getting heavier and you were almost positive he could feel your heart rattling in your body like a caged animal.

“Joel, I-”

“Start it again, and if you stutter I’ll stop.”

His hand dips under your skirt and he nods to your index card, wanting you to restart.

“Well come on, be a good girl for me.” He grunts out and smirks before biting your arm playfully.

You didn’t know how you got here or why he wanted to touch you this way but you weren’t going to stop him. He was a good looking man and god forbid you do something out of your normal routine.

His fingertips dance over your overly excited clit and release some tension for you, and it’s like a key to a gate, your legs spreading more and more with every circle from his middle finger. You continue to talk through his efforts to make you stutter, even when he gets faster and kisses your back.

“Just like that, sweetheart. Next artist, let’s go.” He pushes you up on the desk and splits your legs apart, ripping your panties in two before he takes off his jacket and rolls his shirt sleeves up to his elbows.

“The Swing painted by Jean-Honore Fragonard. It’s said it’s a commission from a man on the court who requested Fragonard to paint him and his younger mistress being pushed on a swing while he watches and admires her-oh my god, Joel, right there, yes, yes.”

His tongue dances against your clit after he spits on it, licking every inch of you just to hear your pretty moans. His hands travel up your abdomen until he gets to your shirt, ripping the buttons apart to see your beautiful breasts. A deep groan against your overly sensitive clit makes your eyes almost roll back into your skull and he slaps your pussy firmly.

“That’s not being a good girl. Did I tell you to stop?”

“No, sir.” You whimper and try to get back on track about the painting you were talking about. His curls tickle against the soft insides of your thighs as he continues, licking feverishly at your clit.

“The brushwork is rapid and it exemplifies the Rococo style of playfulness and elegance” you whimper out and buck against his face, your hand dipping into his hair to tug firmly.

He spanks your ass as he feels your body squirm under him, tugging your legs to rest on his shoulders as he continues to lap up your arousal.

“You’re such a filthy girl, riding your professor's face in your house, naughty naughty girl. Oh, yes, cmon sweetheart, use my mouth.”

You moan his name louder and thank god your sounds are muffled from the rest of the house by all the literature covering the walls. Somehow you finish telling him about the painting and he looks at you as you cry out for more from him, your slick glossing over his mustache.

“Please make me come, Joel. Please, I need you so bad.” You kiss him roughly and try to grab his rock hard bulge but he pulls his hips away and groans loudly on your lips before grinning, going back down to your pussy and moaning against you.

“Come right on my face, right fuckin’ now. Let me taste how sweet you are. I know you can’t handle much more and you don’t wanna disappoint me, right baby?” Joel smirks and flattens his tongue against your clit once more, teasing you and enjoying this just as much as you were.

The burning sensation in your belly starts to spill over and before you can tell him, you grip both edges of the table and come against his face, crying and squirming to get away from him but it only makes Joel pin you down by your wrists and lick harder, tasting every bit you give him.

He licks you clean and kisses his way up your stomach, through the valley of your breasts to your lips, sharing the deliciousness with you. As you come down from your high, the grandfather clock in the corner of the room starts to chime, indicating it was midnight.

“That 7:30 A.M. class is gonna be here before you know it, professor.” You push the damp curls off his forehead and giggle as he stands up tiredly, holding a hand out for you. As you sit up on the table, his hand cups your cheek and kisses you deeply once more.

“You owe me sleep, so much sleep.”

#studioghibelliswritingchallenge #joel miller tlou #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic #joel miller au #professor Joel miller #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x you #the last of us #pedro pascal joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader

913 notes · View notes

aemndxx · 8 months ago

Text

𝓇.cameron. ┆ lace panties.

◟ ㅤᡣ𐭩ㅤㅤ ݁.﹒ rewrote this cus i hated it n y'all been flooding my inbox askin' for it back since yesterday, so here ya go, lovies . <3

"rafe, have you seen my new pair of pink lace panties!?" you cry out, hoping your voice carries over into his bedroom across the hallway, but the oldest cameron sibling doesn't respond—only low, slightly muffled groans, and a small, occasional whimper falling from your older stepbrother's lips.

rafe grunts, releasing a small, breathless little chuckle to himself underneath his breath, breaking off into another low moan, fisting the ballerina pink lace fabric over his heavy, slippery cock, dripping with his pre-cum, feeling his aching balls tighten and warning him that he was so close to his release—so, so fucking close.

and then, he hears you, banging obnoxiously loud on his locked bedroom door, like you always do—spoiled little brat, rafe thinks, making him roll his eyes into the back of his head as you whine his name again, and oh, fuck, he can just imagine you whining so prettily underneath him, with his bigger and stronger body on top of yours, pinning you down as he fucks into you so nasty, so hard, you'd be feeling it for days from how pent up he was, and still is.

rafe doesn't always do this, using your little pair of cute panties to help jerk himself off, but today was a special occasion—at least, that's what rafe likes to think when he thinks about you two spending the day together—and yeah, he was taking you out on his boat, and maybe, just maybe, you'll let him fuck you raw with the waves gently rocking the boat, sunshine beating down on both of you, bathing you in golden light as he roughly ploughs into your sweet little pussy, making you appear like an angel.

and god, you'd look so gorgeous, he can just imagine it, making him pump his large, tight fist even faster, the delicate pink lace of your panties already so wet and sticky, and fuck, he hears you call his name again, and he shoots his hot, scorching load all over your panties, staining them with his cum.

what a waste, rafe thinks, he'd rather shoot his cum deep inside of your overstuffed, sweet little pussy, filling your womb, and he knows he's fucked, wanting to make his little baby stepsister as his girl, as his.

then, rafe smirks to himself, lifting up the tiny pair of ruined panties with the tip of his long, calloused index finger, letting the lace dangle as he obsessively observes the creamy fluid that coated the poor lace, but he doesn't care, he can always just buy you another cute pair of panties since you 'keep losing them', as you always complain with a cute, glossy pout—but rafe knows the truth, he thinks to himself smugly.

besides, the more he steals your panties, clean or dirty, rafe doesn't mind, he'll know you'll start to catch on—and he can only hope that when that time comes, you'll come begging on your knees, all weepy and submissive for his cock.

however, in the meantime, he still has a few more of your pretty lace panties to jerk off to just to help him reach his release, but he knows it'll only last for so long before he gives in and makes a move on you, making you his.

1K notes · View notes

jam3sacaster · 16 days ago

Text

“You have no idea what ‘ya doing to me, do ‘ya?” PT 1

(Rivals) Declan O’Hara x Reader PT 1

Suggestion by my sweet anon / SPOILER 🫶🏽 Maud has unexpectedly took off for London, leaving Declan alone. He could never touch, or even look, at another. Or could he?…

18+ FANFIC / SMUT. Unfortunately I got rather carried away so this one is fairly long. Hopefully it’s not boring! Reader character aged at 21. Pls leave requests in my ask box 🫶🏽🫶🏽

It has been 3 weeks, 2 days, 9 hours & 32 minutes since Maud O’Hara took leave for London — not like Declan is counting. And since then, he has spent every day with his mouth firmly clasped over a bottle of whiskey, and sleeping between the dewy blades of grass at The Priory. Taggie had since grown tired of peeling her intoxicated father from the ground and had ordered him into the village to gather supplies for her next catering job.

Begrudgingly, Declan stumbled through the village shop, throwing items from Taggie’s list into his basket. You, however, were having a mundanely average day. Filling your basket with fresh fruit and cream for a majority of your shop, you lingered for just a second by the bakery. Expecting the comforting smell of fresh bread, the sharp musk of wood shavings & rosemary aftershave danced through your nostrils as a suited man with a distinguished moustache appeared next to you, nonchalantly swiping a loaf of bread into his basket. Your slender hand reached out for a tiger loaf, just as he began his next embittered swipe.

“Sorry. Oh, hello.” He muttered under his breath, as he recognised you as the receptionist from the hellhole that is Corinium. “It’s okay. Go for it.” You reply, filling your face with a friendly smile. Hearing the melodious tone of your voice, Declan looked up to meet your gaze. The breath caught in his throat as he drank you in from top to bottom — from the gentle black kitten heels to your carefully curled brunette hair. “No, no. Take it.” He spoke, softening his voice and motioning his hand towards the bread. What a stunning girl. He had never noticed before. As you shot him another gentle smile, you picked up the loaf, popped it into your basket and begun to walk on the opposite direction. Watching your every move, Declan kept a firm concentration on your floral dress, admiring the elasticated hem that hugged your waist so tightly. Now that Maud has gone, surely he’s allowed to at least look at another woman— something he would’ve never dreamt of doing in his previous life.

Trudging out of the shop’s door with plastic bags clinging from your arms, the man is leaning against the wall, puffing furiously on his cigarette. “Hello again, Declan. You really didn’t have do that.” You immediately begin, sweat beading on your forehead. “Ahh, don’t worry,” A painstaking awkward silence ensued. The smell of his musk was intoxicating— comforting and manly. “How’s life treatin’ ‘ya workin’ for that cunt Baddingham?” He spoke Tony’s name like he was spitting it out, vile and sour-tasting. “You don’t have to… you don’t have to make small talk.” You mutter, turning away from him and beginning your walk home. Sure enough, Declan was striding to catch up with you, eyes firmly fixed on your svelte legs as you walked. “I’m not makin’ small talk. I’m just askin’. Everyone makes out that I’m a bastard, but-“ Your hand shot up to silence him. Declan’s pessimistic commentary was unbearable at the best of times, but you couldn’t stand to hear it right now. Being unable to hear anymore, you strutted off, being extra sure to sway your hips as you go, praying that he was watching. He definitely was.

•

Bursting through his own front door, Declan collapsed his shopping bags onto the floor and practically threw himself onto his sofa. He couldn’t stop thinking about the way your legs looked under that skirt. Caramel bronze, effortlessly smooth. The way the bottom of your ample cheeks just about slipped into sight as you swayed. Fuck. Closing his eyes and unzipping his trousers, Declan released his cock from the confines of his boxer shorts. He was aching, and dripping pre-cum from something as innocent as your legs. Clasping his hand around his girth, he began to pump himself slowly — imagination leading the way. Just picturing the soft skin of your breasts as he grabs a handful whilst simultaneously thrusting himself inside you. The aroma of your hot, sweet breath as you moan into his mouth, every pump taking you another second closer to ecstasy. Declan’s thighs twitched as he pictured you taking him into your mouth, humming gently on his cock as you forced him deep into your throat. Fuck, this was getting too much to bare. Pumping his hand faster, he could practically feel your tight walls enveloping him, closing around him like a tight hug. It was all too much.. he’s gonna cum. Im keeps with the worst timing humanely possible, there was a gentle knock on the front door. “Go. Away.” Declan managed to grunt out through gritted teeth. And predictably so, the mystery guest knocked once again. A few seconds pass. Angry, stomping footsteps. Door swinging open and… “WHAT?” The Irishman bellowed — half furious at having his wank disturbed, half grieving over the stunning image of you he won’t be able to get back.

“Oh, sorry, I- I just wanted to say sorry for being rude earlier. But you’re, umm… obviously busy.” You mumble under your breath, fidgeting with your hands nervously. Declan’s flies were unzipped, with a rather curious wet patch seeping through. Your eyes glazed over, and darted immediately to the side, cheeks blazing in pure crimson embarrassment. “Come in.” He replied, fighting off a smirk and zipping his trousers back up. Hesitantly, you sit on the sofa, trying not to take up any space and keeping your hands clasped together in your lap. “Drink?” Declan asks, showcasing a rather expensive looking bottle of whiskey. “No, thank you. Don’t let me stop you though.” You smile, pearly teeth on show. He wouldn’t let it stop him regardless — pouring himself a huge glass, sitting down next to you and knocking the glass back like a shot before pouring another. “As I said, sorry for being rude earlier. You caught me at a bad time,” You begin to tell your endless, anxious story, crossing your legs and exposing the laced line of your thongs under your painstakingly short skirt. Declan cracked his neck side to side, too afraid to look. Out of respect.. of course.

•

Pouring himself his third glass and sparking his 12th cigarette of the day, his clumsy, (almost) drunken hand knocked the lid of his whiskey bottle onto the floor. “Oh, let me get that.” Time to go on for the kill. Just about lifting yourself from the sofa, you bent over to retrieve the lid — the lining of your skirt almost touching your lower back, pink lace thong tucked neatly between your behind .. a full frontal view of your shapely arse. “You have no idea what ya’ doin’ to me, do ya?” Declan growled under his breath, collar growing increasingly hotter and his bulge threatening to tear through his trousers. Pretending not to hear him, you sit back down and screw the lid back onto the bottle.

“Hmm? Did you… say something?” You question, closing the gap between you both, hot breath reverberating off him. You have always found Declan O’Hara unbearably sexy.. Why not take your opportunity? “No. Have ya’ come here just ta’ be a fuckin’ tease, or did ya’ actually want sumtin’?” He snarls in the most playful manner he possibly can. You’ve had your fair share of men leering at you, but there was something so passionate and inebriating about Declan that made your loins ache. “Why would I be teasing you?” Eyes widening innocently as you talk, wrapping your hand around his fingers and guiding it to the fabric of your thong. Instinctively, he ran his fingers over your clothed slit, grunting carnally as he felt the material soak under your heat. “Fuck. I can’t. Maud.” He moaned breathlessly, the image of his sweet wife’s face clouding his mind. It mustn’t have bothered him too much, as he was soon pushing your panties to one side and swiping his pointing finger across your clit. “Christ, you’re so fuckin’ wet.”

Unable to resist the devilish temptation any longer, Declan delved two fingers inside you, hooking and pulling towards him instantly. The sudden shock of pleasure made you groan with all your lungs capacity. The sound of him coaxing out your wetness paired with your affirming moans was enough to make him blow his load then and there. “Fuck, Declan.” You belt out, feeling your orgasm grow closer, your thighs tightening and your stomach binding. “Yeah? Ya’ like my fingers inside ya’?” The man asks, speaking into your ear, the bristles of his moustache sending a chill down your spine. Feeling you clench around his fingers, he lowers himself to the ground, beginning to lap at your clit like a ravenous animal, hungry for your orgasm and fiendish for the taste of you.

The front door opens and the man you recognise as Rupert Campbell-Black lingers by the frame, puffing a cigarette and smirking with pride. “Oh fuck!” You scream, pulling one of Declan’s velvet cushions over your lower half. Menacingly, Declan threw himself up. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Rupert, don’t you ever knock?” His tone increasing in volume with each word.

“I’m so sorry. This was a mistake, this was…” You manage to push out, your eyes brimming with tears. How utterly embarrassing. It’s dawned on you what a huge mistake you’re making. Fastening your skirt and brushing tears from your eye, you fly out the door as fast as your legs would take you — brutally aware of a furious yet saddened Declan calling your name from his open living room. “Fuck.. please!” He shouted again, running his hands over his face.

#rivals #my own dreadful writing #rivals fanfic #rivals fanfiction #declan i fancy u <3 #declan o’hara #aidan turner #anon ask u are incredible

486 notes · View notes

ayyy-pee · 2 months ago

Note

Request cowboy Suguru asking reader out but she doesn’t date cowboys at all. She hates them but then she gives him a chance

hi lovely!!! thank you so much for this request! IT WAS FUNNNN!!! i'm really loving the cowboy au lately so i was SUPER excited to get something out! it's fluffy and sweet and Suguru is so down bad for reader! hope you like it! <3

Discord 18+ - Twitter - JJK Masterlist

Pairing: Sheriff!Suguru Geto x Bartender!Female Reader

Genre: Western/Cowboy AU

Story Warning: fluff and trust issues and Suguru being down bad for reader. what else is new?

Artist Credit: @aransmind

“You again? I already told you no the last time you brought your tail in here.”

You wipe along the countertop of the saloon bar, trying to clean up the mess left behind by beers and shots of whiskey purchased throughout the day. It’s been a long one, and you’re ready to lock up and head home. It’s just a matter of getting this place cleaned up. This bartop is old, the stains still lingering and apparently unremovable. Just like this damn patron who just can’t seem to leave you the hell alone.

Just like this damn patron who has slowly been worming his way under your skin, despite your best efforts to resist.

Pink lips pout from the other side of the bar, and all you can do is chuckle, shaking your head.

“I haven’t even said a thing!” A man whines. You place his normal drink in front of him, smiling when he dramatically sighs contently after he takes a sip.

You’re back to cleaning up, arranging your glasses. “I already know what’s comin’. Please, no begging today. ”

A soft laugh falls from the man’s lips as he speaks. “I ain’t a beggin’ man, ___. You gotta know that, but you make a beggar outta me every time I come in here and see ya.”

Another chuckle bubbles from your chest as you stare down the man leaning his elbow on your squeaky clean counter now. You smack his arm off with your towel, quickly swiping at the spot left behind. “You’ll just have to keep beggin’ because I said nooooo,” you sing. “And that’s not changin’.”

“But–”

“Sheriff Suguru,” you sigh, no actual annoyance in your tone, because how could you be annoyed when he stares up at you with those pretty eyes of his you’ve gotten used to seeing every day for the last few months? “You’ve been comin’ in here for how long now? Askin’ me the same question and gettin’ the same answer. Don’t you ever know when to quit?”

At this, the Sheriff takes his hat off, placing it on the bar before shooting you what you assume he thinks is his most charming smile. It doesn’t work.

“Now, Miss ___, do you think if I knew when to give up, I woulda made Sheriff?” He combs his fingers through his silky long hair that somehow never seems to hold even a speck of dirt in it, despite you both residing in the dry and dusty desert.

He’s as pretty as the first day he came in.

------

The day Suguru became Sheriff, his buddies brought him into your saloon to celebrate, ordering a shot for damn near everybody in town. Who wouldn’t want to come celebrate the new Sheriff in town? Anybody who was anybody would be there! You were just lucky that the party was happening in your bar, excited to make a good chunk of change for the night.

Did you really want to spend your entire night catering to a bunch of cowboys? Absolutely not. You’re not particularly a fan, but again, the money will make it worth it.

But it’s been almost an hour past close, you’re standing behind the bartop as the deputies are still rowdy and drinking. You don’t mind much, but you are tired and ready to go. Even the idea of making more money doesn’t feel appealing when you’re ready to just crawl into your bath and try not to fall asleep.

“Aren’t you pretty?” Suguru had slurred from across the bar, in the same seat that would soon become his regular spot. “When do ya get off work, Miss…?”

You give him your name, polite but to the point. “And soon as y’all get outta my bar,” you quip, which makes Suguru laugh.

He leans forward, close enough so you could hear him over the noise of his deputies drunkenly singing behind him. “I’ll tell ‘em all to go home right now.”

It’s an offer that’s tempting, but you don’t want to rain on their parade no matter how tired you are. The money will be good, and you need it. So you roll your eyes at playfully, as you ask teasingly. “Won’t you be lonely without all your friends?”

Your cheekiness only makes Suguru grin wider. “Yeah,” he answers quickly. “Probably will be.” He rubs his chin, closing his eyes and pulling his brows together as if he’s in deep thought. “But maybeeee,” he drags the word out. “I won’t be so lonely if a pretty lady like yourself comes home with me.”

You mimic Suguru’s earlier position, closing your eyes and rubbing your chin as you think really hard about his offer. You let the suggestion hang between the two of you, and Suguru takes this time to let his eyes take you in.

Beautiful. Smart, he thinks. Quick on your feet. Makes one hell of a drink, one of the best he’s had. Yeah, he wants you. This town is full of pretty women. He’s not without options. And while he’s already had his fill of some of them, it’s you who’s caught his eye in a way they haven’t.

He waits for you to give him an answer. But you don’t. Not by any fault of your own. It’s because one of his deputies – Satoru – is now leaning over the bar and giving you his best flirtatious smile now that he’s caught your attention. It’s left Suguru sitting on the sidelines to watch your interaction. It looks like Satoru is getting more out of you than he is.

You’re smiling, laughing as you pour him some water, because he doesn’t drink. But minutes later, you’re still chatting with his colleague, leaned over and a little too close for his liking. You’re supposed to be talking to him, entertaining him. He’s the Sheriff now! Wayyyy more important than some damn bottom of the barrel deputy!

Okay, that’s the liquor talking. But still. He wants to be who you’re focused on.

“Hey, Miss!” Suguru calls, grabbing your attention for a brief moment. “Just waitin’ for your answer.”

He sees the way you seem to barely remember that you were speaking with him before, nodding before you lean your elbow on the bar and yell, loud enough for all to hear, “NO.”

And it…makes Suguru’s heart beat faster, makes his lips curl in a smile that he has to hide behind his whiskey glass.

Yeah, he likes you. He thinks he’ll come by more often.

------

Months later, and this man hasn’t let up. He’s always been friendly, too friendly in your opinion. That long hair, those pretty eyes and even prettier smile are deadlier than the gun hanging in his holster. He’s a smooth talker, which you’re sure helped him move up the ranks of the town deputies. But you’ve always been resistant to his charms. Or at least, tried to be.

Sheriff Suguru is extremely attractive, pleasant to talk to when he isn’t trying to ask you on a date, and once again, too friendly. Especially with the women in town. From what you’ve heard, he’s been leaving a trail of broken hearts in his wake since he arrived. Which is exactly why you’re not interested in going out on a date with him, no matter how charming and funny you find him to be. You’ll be damned if you end up being another name on his long list of conquests.

Besides, you’ve dated a few cowboys in your day and they’re all the same; big egos, big mouths and big fuckin’ pains in your ass. And most times not a big enough dick to back all that up. Every one of those relationships were a waste of your time and you’re not interested in wasting any more of it on yet another cowboy.

“Just one date,” Suguru begins his regular spiel. "Lemme take you out somewhere. Promise it’ll be worth it,” Suguru tells you, and you scoff. He sounds just like the rest of them.

“Doubt it.”

“You won’t let me take you out, just one time, Miss?”

“Sheriff, I’ve seen ya ‘round town. You take a lot of ladies out,” you note, watching his eyes widen just slightly. “Why not just ask one of them?”

And it’s true. You’ve seen Suguru in the town square chatting it up with any woman whose direction he looks in. He’s the most eligible bachelor in the town. Kind, handsome, a damn good shot and a damn good Sheriff. Any woman worth their salt wants him. If he were in any other occupation, you’d maybe make an exception. But he’s not. He’s a cowboy.

You don’t date cowboys.

At this Suguru stands, holding a hand up, which he waves a little frantically between you. “Now hold on! I run into a lotta ladies in town. Don’t mean I’m takin’ ‘em out anywhere.” His face is serious now, lips pressed together in a hard line. “I know I got quite a reputation, Miss ___. I ain’t stupid,” Suguru mutters. “I hear the ramblins ‘round town. Not all of ‘em are a lie,” he says honestly. And you’re just about to speak up when he cuts you off. “But, not all of ‘em are true, either.”

You swipe at a spot on the bar, the same stain you know will never come out of the wood. You don’t look at him, you don’t want to look at him. Because you hear sincerity in his tone, and that scares you. It shatters this image you’ve built up of him in your mind of this playboy Sheriff who’s good for nothing but a quick fuck at the brothel. Makes you want to give in because maybe he really isn’t like all the rest.

You don’t know any other cowboys who would be as committed as he seems to be to trying to woo you. Day after day, weeks after weeks, months after months of rejection from you. And yet, he still shows up. He still asks. He still tells you that he’ll treat you right. That he’ll take care of you. Is it really that crazy to think that he’s different?

Giggles coming from the other side of the saloon burst the little bubble you’re in with the Sheriff and your eyes dart to the source. A table of four women, sitting in the back of the saloon and whispering what you’re sure are filthy things as they stare at the back of Suguru’s head. He doesn’t look, eyes glued to you and the way you’re still moving that damned towel over that godforsaken stain that you and him both know ain’t goin’ anywhere.

“I don’t date cowboys, Sheriff,” you mutter weakly. “They don’t take nothin’ serious, and I don’t got time for the heartache.”

Suguru sighs, taking his seat again. “Can’t you see I’m serious about you? I’ve been comin’ here for so long tryin’ to show you I ain’t playin’ any games here, Miss ___.”

‘That don’t change my answer.’ Is what you want to say, but the words get caught in your throat.

You both let the silence hang between you. He lets you get back to work, slowly sipping his drink while you finish tending the bar. But his eyes are still on you, watching how you began gently nibbling on your lip ever since Suguru told you again that he’s really not joking when it comes to you, like you’re lost in thought over his words.

“Pardon me, Sheriff?” A soft voice calls to Suguru at the bar.

Your back is turned, but your ears perk up when you hear the Sheriff greet someone back, a woman. The conversation is short, her asking him questions that you can’t really hear. There are laughs from her, chuckles from Suguru and then of course, the lady asking him what he’s doing later tonight. The implication is clear, and you roll your eyes, because you almost gave into yet another cowboy and set yourself up for heartbreak.

But Suguru groans, awkwardly running his fingers through his locks as he tells the woman that he’s got plans with someone he’s been waiting to see for a long time.

“Family?” She asks, the disappointment clear in her voice. He laughs, shaking his head.

“No. Well, hope I’m not bein’ too forward, but maybe one day. If she ever lets me in, I think I’ll be able to convince her.”

“Oh!” The woman squeaks, not expecting that. And neither were you, because you freeze halfway through putting a bottle of whiskey back on the shelves behind the bar.

“Special lady then,” the woman mumbles.

“Very.”

She dismisses herself shortly after. And as the noise dies down, and the saloon empties out, you hear the telltale signs of the Sheriff getting ready to go, always the last customer. He sits his hat back atop his head, fishing out his money and leaving it on the bar for you. You meet his gaze, and he gives you a smile. Even with yet another rejection under his belt, he doesn’t seem angry or bitter. There’s no resentment behind his eyes. He harbors no negative feelings towards you. His smile is genuine and kind, like it’s always been every time you shut him down.

“Have a good night, Miss ___. Get home safe,” he says, spinning on his heel.

The quiet jingling of his boot spurs fills the air, and to you, at least in your head, it almost symbolizes alarm bells ringing. And you call out to him, grabbing his attention.

“Sheriff,” you place the towel down, coming out from behind the bar to stand face to face with the man you’ve only ever stood at least four feet away from. This close distance feels more intimate than any other time you’ve been around each other, and your heart pounds loudly in your ears as you ask, “Mind walkin’ me home?”

507 notes · View notes