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strang3lov3 · 10 months

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Phone a Friend

Joel Miller x fem Reader

Summary: A story involving two sexually frustrated assholes and how they resolved the tension. (Alternatively, Joel is sick of you keeping him up late at night with your hand between your thighs)

Warnings: Smut, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, PIV, the softest of soft dom joel, masturbation, spanking, slight perv!joel, sleazy!joel, implied age gap probably, enemies? with benefits?? Idiots in luuuurrve

Word Count: 5k

A/N: Was thinking of doing an enemies to lovers story and then thought, fuck it. Enemies AND lovers. Thank you @speckledemerald for proofreading!

please please please comment/reblog if you enjoy, i love reading the sweet things you say <3

It was amusing at first.

The first time it happened Joel was in bed reading a nice book Ellie picked out for him. He was just about to doze off, the words on the page illuminated by the warm light of his lamp began to blend together.

“Oh,”

It caught Joel off guard. And then a few more, quicker and breathier.

“Oh, fuck,”

Frustrated moans spilling from your lips, right in the next room. They continued for an hour and Joel listened with an amused smile curling his lips as he palmed his bulge. He followed along with your moans, using your sweet noises to work himself up. He removed his cock from the confines of his plaid pajamas and stroked himself, every breathy moan of yours pushing him further and further to the edge. Joel had no issue coming in a timely matter, but you? You let out noises of frustration for what seemed like hours before finishing with a frustrated groan. And then silence.

Thin walls, what can you do?

The next morning Joel said nothing, just quietly sipped his coffee while you were slamming doors and cabinets and stomping around the kitchen. You had yelled out a perfectly crafted string of curse words, something like “Motherfucking piece of shit can’t toast one goddamn slice of bread without having a fucking aneurysm!” followed by “Cocksucking bastard of a toaster!” before you slammed your fist on the countertop.

Joel just smiled to himself in his coffee mug, knowing exactly why you were in such a charmingly pleasant mood.

You had broken your dominant hand’s wrist a few weeks ago, and it was still healing. You couldn’t do much of anything with it, not write with a pencil or flip a pancake or butter a piece of bread. You had started trying to use your nondominant hand for more, but that had proved to be futile with mundane daily tasks.

Apparently it wasn’t working very well in between your thighs either, Joel had deduced.

Joel just got up from his seat at the table, silently futzed with the toaster, then placed two slices of bread in for you. “Wake up on the wrong side of the bed?” he asked, one eyebrow cocked in amusement.

You didn’t bother replying, too frustrated in the early hours of the morning to entertain him.

The routine happened nightly for weeks.

Joel would be in bed, sleeping or reading. Your frustrated moans would wake him up, and he’d be rock hard at the dead of night. He’d jerk himself off tiredly, and then still spent hours listening to you continue to play with yourself. He’d be exhausted the next morning, sick of you inadvertently getting him all hot and bothered, and you’d be seeing red as you stomped around and slammed cabinets in maddening frustration.

It was amusing at first. Really.

But it got old quickly.

Once, at breakfast, the situation was addressed. After a particularly long night of listening to your moans, Joel was practically falling asleep in his over-easy eggs and toast. “Morning, sunshine!” you said. He had said something rude and off handed to you in response, to which you replied “Aren’t you a fucking peach this morning?”

“Shut up,” he grumbled, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Whatever,”

“I said, shut up,” Joel was the picture of exhaustion. Heavy bags under his eyes, a distant look in his pupils. One of his hands pinched the bridge of his nose as he furrowed his brows.

“What’s your deal?”

“You,” he responded, not missing a beat. He decided the night before enough was enough, and you and he were going to share a conversation about noise levels.

Your brows knit together in confusion. Before you could ask, Joel interrupted. “Thin walls, darlin’,”

“What are you-”

“Fuckin’ playing with yourself all night. I hear you, you know,” He removed his hand from his face and stared at you with an irritated expression, his eyes boring into your own.

Your face heated up in embarrassment. “Jesus, Joel,”

“S’okay, hon. We all do it. But some of us like to do so with a bit more consideration for others, hmm?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,”

“You’re too loud,” Joel stated plainly. “And you take for-fuckin’-ever. Might as well make you come myself. Lord knows I do it better than you.”

You glared at him, beside yourself that he was bringing that up. It’s not enough to embarrass you for masturbating, apparently.

You and Joel had a tricky relationship, to say the least.

He was simultaneously the person you trusted most in the world, and the biggest piece of shit you knew. He was arrogant, brash, and rude. He thought you were annoying and naive, and yet, you still slept with each other.

It was a night of drinking gone too far. One thing led to another, and then another. Before you knew it you were naked and tangled in each other's limbs, whimpering and moaning praises into his skin. You told him the next morning that it was a mistake and that it would never happen again.

And then you’d do it again, of course. And again, and again.

Fucking Joel left you feeling full of all sorts of complicated things. You were sleeping with your enemy, and it was fucking incredible. He learned to play with your body perfectly, knowing exactly how to touch you to get you to fall to pieces for him. He could make you come embarrassingly quickly, melting for him in mere moments with the most feather-light and gentle touches. But he still drove you absolutely mad.

After each time, you told him the same thing: it would never happen again. But like clockwork, it would. After a bad date or another night of drinking too much, you’d be back where you started. Under him, on top of him. It didn’t matter.

At this point, you and Joel hadn’t had sex in a few months. Your longest spell yet. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought of it a few times, wishing for his skilled fingers instead of yours. But this time, this time would be different. You were determined to quit your addiction, even if the withdrawals were miserable.

“My god, you’re an asshole,” you stood up from your seat angrily and put your plate into the kitchen sink. It fell with a loud clatter.

“I know you’d like it,” he said with a bite of food in his mouth. Gross, you thought. For a man who’s always on Ellie’s ass about manners, he sure didn’t have much of his own.

“You wish, dickhead,” you scolded, putting on your boots and lacing them up. “Fuck you. You try getting off with a broken wrist,”

“Wouldn’t have to. I’d just phone a friend, sweetheart. You should try it,” God, his smirk. His fucking shit-eating grin. You could slap it right off his excruciatingly handsome face.

You rolled your eyes and put on a jacket, leaving Joel without saying goodbye.

That night, while in bed, you decided to fuck with him for being such an asshole to you that morning.

With your hand between your thighs, you moaned loudly. Right into the wall. High pitched and unrealistically. Annoyingly. It was the middle of the night, surely waking Joel up.

Joel pounded on the wall with his fist. “Oh, that’s very mature,” he yelled, his voice muffled by the barrier. “Knock it off.”

You just moaned louder, more obnoxiously. Joel slammed on the wall. You were dicks to each other the next day, constantly at each other’s throats.

You did this dance for a while. Was it ridiculous and completely unreasonable? Yes. But so was Joel. And you, for that matter. Fuck being the bigger person, this was Joel Miller you were dealing with.

Tonight, Joel was supposed to go to the bar with Tommy, but he had canceled. Stomach flu, said Tommy. So instead, Joel had a quiet night in. After dinner, he got into bed and picked up his book from his nightstand.

He was about half an hour into reading when he heard you moan. And then you did it again.

“Very funny” he grumbled to himself, tapping on his wall lightly. He was tired and didn’t have the energy to do another silly moaning/wall pounding argument.

You didn’t stop. Truthfully, you didn’t hear him. You thought he was out with Tommy, nobody had let you know that plans were changed.

Your moans were different tonight, Joel noticed. Not obnoxiously loud to piss him off. Just genuine, regular moans of pleasure. He decided to give you a break, let you let off some steam without him giving you shit for it.

But then he heard it.

Joel.

Clear as day. His name, whimpered from your lips. He missed it dearly, how sweet his name sounded rolling off your tongue. Memories of his arms wrapped around you tightly while you’d whisper his name like a prayer into his neck.

And that’s when he gets an idea.

He tiptoes out of bed, straight to your room. He twists the handle of your door, thanking god the lock is broken. Joel’s quiet, silent as he tiptoes to your bed. There’s a dim light illuminating your face, your eyes are scrunched tightly shut as you work sloppy circles into your clit, still moaning Joel’s name.

He’s right next to you now, and taking a seat on your bed. “Moanin’ f’me and I ain’t even touchin’ you,” he whispers as he puts a hand on your bare leg.

Your eyes fly open and you jump, nearly kicking him. “Joel!” you gasp. “What the fuck are you-”

“Thin walls,” he reminds you, though it’s not really an answer to your question. “Was that my name I heard you whispering?”

You shake your leg from his touch and sit up, covering yourself. “Jesus, Joel. No,” you spit, shooting daggers at him. “Get the fuck out.”

“Right,” he says, blatantly refusing to acknowledge your request. “Coulda’ told me you were missin’ my cock.” Joel’s hand returns to your leg, dragging his fingers up and down the soft skin. You kick his hand away again. Presumptuous piece of shit.

Heat is rising to your cheeks and you continue to glare at him with pure hatred. “You wish. I don’t miss any part of you,” you hiss.

“Oh, how you wound me, sweetheart,” Joel clutches a hand to his heart sarcastically.

“I am not doing this with you. Get out. Now,” you demand. You’re not entertaining this asshole and his flagrant violation of your privacy.

Joel chuckles. “No. I’m not leavin’ yet,”

“Why?”

“Because you keep me up night after fuckin’ night. I’m not leavin’ until I know you’re finished,”

You don’t have the time or energy for this bullshit. “Joel, move,” you warn, kicking into his thigh with your foot. But he doesn’t budge.

You think for a second, taking in the situation. Joel’s watched you come a million times before. And he looks fucking sexy tonight, his plaid pajama pants hanging low on his hips, giving you a perfect view of his happy trail. He’s not wearing a shirt, his salt and pepper hair is a curly bed-headed mess. His eyes are darkened with lust, sparkling in the dim light. His hand has returned to your ankle, rubbing slow circles with his thumb. Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing to have some eye candy as you pleasure yourself.

“Fine,” you concede. “I come, you leave me alone, and we both go to sleep after.”

He shoots you a sly smile. “That’s my girl,” he whispers, pulling you closer and separating your thighs. His touch on your skin is electric and sends desire shooting through your veins, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of making you feel good again. If he wants to torture you, you’ll do it right back to him.

“You’re not touching me,” you say flatly, wrapping your fingers around his wrists and pushing him away from your thighs. “I’m doing this myself.”

“Oh, that’s fine,” Joel replies. He figured you’d say that, seeing as how stubborn you can be. “You just come for me and I’ll be on my merry way.”

“I’m coming for me. Not you, Joel,”

“Hmm, s’that right?”

“Yup,”

You’re silent then, unsure of the logistics of this sexual endeavor. Joel’s seen you in so many vulnerable positions, tasted your most intimate places and heard your most desperate moans. Still, you’re shy. Masturbating for someone else is vastly different than being an active participant in sex.

And his eyes, good fucking lord. Staring at you intensely like you’re artwork. Or rather, an artist. Desperately waiting to see the way you paint circles on your clit.

Fuck it. With a deep breath in and then a deep breath out, you rip the bandaid off and begin. You close your eyes, unable to look into Joel’s piercing gaze any longer. Your fingers begin trailing under your shirt, pinching and twisting at your nipples gently. You lean into your touch, your hand slides further down the soft skin of your tummy and then your tuft of coarse hair, finally settling at your cunt.

You’re not quite wet yet, you realize as your fingers grace your entrance to gather your arousal. Rather hurriedly, you bring your fingers to your lips and cover them in saliva before returning to your center. You adjust slightly, spreading your legs wider. And then you begin.

You start with slow circles orbiting your clit, somehow over sensitive and yet not feeling enough. You quicken your pace, then slow down again. And then speed up. All the while, letting out frustrated grunts and moans.

“Need some help, sweetheart?” Joel’s voice interrupts.

You let out an exhausted groan at the way he breaks your concentration, as if you were close at all. “No, just shut the fuck up,” you hiss, not opening your eyes to meet his gaze. You wonder if you offended him, but you don’t really care. Joel can go scratch for all you give a shit.

You continue your actions, circling your clit with your fingers. And it just doesn’t feel right. It’s fumbling, awkward. You wish you had your other hand between your thighs. Really, you’re dying for Joel to touch you. It’s his skilled fingers you want tracing circles into your clit. But you remain firm in your protest of his pleasure.

“Doin’ it wrong,” his voice interrupts. He says it flatly, like it’s so glaringly obvious. Like he would fucking know, you think. Except, deep down you know that he does know.

He reaches forward and adjusts your fingers to better suit your needs, and you gasp when his fingers touch your skin. “Try that,” he whispers.

And so, without changing the placement of your fingers, you continue. It’s…better. Much better, actually. But you’re still struggling to get even a hair closer.

“Look at you,” Joel whispers tauntingly. “No wonder you can’t come. You don’t know what you’re doin’ with all this. Need me to take care of this pretty pussy.”

“I most certainly do not,” you huff, irritated with his pompous and smug attitude. You gasp as you feel one of his fingers tease your entrance, slowly pushing inside.

“Really?” Joel teases with a tantalizing tone. He curls his finger inside you, finding that spot that makes your head spin as you continue your circles. Your hips jut upward in search of more, more, more. “Don’t you want me to make it all better for you?”

“N-no,” you stutter in response, still bucking him.

“That’s fine,” he mumbles, removing his finger. You whine at the loss, reaching your hand to grasp at his and put it back at your center.

“No, no, don’t stop,” you whine, voice wrecked and desperate.

“Can you ask nicely?”

Oh, fuck him. “Please,” you rasp out, opening your eyes to meet his. He looks so fucking cocky, wearing a smug grin as he pushes two of his thick fingers in you with ease this time. You’re much, much wetter than you were before.

He pushes upward inside you repeatedly, fingers dancing in your wet heat. It’s deplorable, loathsome, the way you melt under his touch.

“Wanna know what your problem is, honey?” His voice is soft and syrupy sweet, and you hate that stupid charming affectation he puts on.

“No,” you breathe. “Just make me-”

“I’ll tell you what your problem is,” he interrupts. Dickhead. “You ain’t gentle with yourself. Need to be more patient,”

“Joel, for the love of god,” your voice is strained as he continues teasing you, his touch feels infinitely better than your own but he’s holding back, not yet giving you what he knows you need so desperately.

“Pretty pussy like this needs love, sweetheart,”

You ignore him and buck your hips into his hand, needing more than what he’s giving you. “Joel, shut up and make me come,”

He swats your ass. “You ask me nice, now,” he instructs.

You roll your eyes as far back as they can go, and comply with his unreasonable request. “Please,”

“Please what?”

“Please shut up and make me come,” you snap.

“God, you’re a fuckin’ delight,” he says sarcastically, irritated. “You wanna try that again?” He begins pulling his hand away, threatening to leave you high and dry. He knows he’s your only way of finishing tonight.

“Fuck, please. I just wanna come,” you sigh, defeated and exhausted. It’s been an eternity since you had a proper orgasm, and you just want to come. If only the man getting you off wasn’t such a tool. “Please.”

“Wasn’t so hard, was it?” Joel taunts, smiling. He pulls you close, pushing your shirt up to play with your plump breasts. He grabs a handful, and begins kissing your inner thighs, kissing down, down…

You gasp when you feel him press a kiss to your sex, his fingers now twisting and teasing your nipples as his tongue explores every inch of your slick folds. Not that he needs to experiment at all, he has your body memorized. Every fucking inch of you.

He fucks you with his fingers as he kisses your pussy, tonguing your slick folds and licking up every last drop of your sweet arousal.

“Fuck, yes Joel. Just like that,” you breathe, pushing your hips into his face. His nose and mouth are hidden by your body, his eyes are intense and teasing when he raises his brows in amusement. Honestly, he thought you’d take longer to crack. But here you are, whimpering his name with every flick of his tongue and his fingers on your sensitive nipples, twisting and teasing them just so.

He takes a moment to just taste you, get his fill of you before finishing you off. He flattens his tongue against you, then points it into your clit. He spends moments alternating between the actions, savoring every inch of you. The way you moan, the way your insides flutter around his fingers. The wet noises of your pussy are downright pornographic as he devours you and you can feel his devious smirk against your pussy.

When he’s satisfied, Joel wraps his plump lips around your sensitive bud gently, still flicking his tongue against you. You fall to pieces instantaneously, your thighs tremble and shake as your orgasm builds in the pit of your stomach.

“Joel, Joel, Joel,” is about all you remember how to say when you come on his tongue. He has this effect on you, making you forget how to speak. It’s even worse now.

You’re a mess of heaving breaths and whimpers as you ride out your long-awaited orgasm on his tongue. All you can do is cry his name as he overstimulates your pussy before he finally slows, kissing up your body and neck. He presses a sweet kiss to your lips and you taste yourself on his tongue, suddenly feeling bashful.

“Sweet dreams, sweetheart,” he whispers into your ear. He pulls away then and leaves your room, just as he promised.

His footsteps fade out as he returns to his own room, his cock painfully hard and leaking precum. You’re still in bed, not yet fully satiated.

You know what you need. As if you haven’t been a needy mess for him enough already. You’re an addict, completely powerless against your addiction. You wince as you get out of bed, following his footsteps as you contemplate the kind of sickening satisfaction you’re about to give him.

Joel looks surprised when you enter his room, but you say nothing as you walk up to him. He’s tall and imposing above you, staring you down with an eyebrow cocked in interest, wondering if you’re about to do what he thinks you’re about to do.

You shove a hand down his pants, his cock is achingly stiff. You palm him, pushing him back towards the bed as your other hand tries to push down his pajama bottoms.

“Woah, woah, woah,” he stops you, grabbing ahold of your hand on his dick. “Thought you said you didn’t miss my cock,”

“I don’t,” you reply firmly.

“Then what’s your hand doin’ down my pants?”

You mumble incoherently, babbling something about just needing to fuck him. He stops you, “You can just ask, baby. I don’t mind givin’ you a little extra lovin’ if that’s what you need,”

You nod, unable to form a coherent thought.

“Words, my love,” he reminds you.

“Please,”

“Please what?”

“I need you,”

“Why?”

You groan angrily, tired of his boorish act. You push him on the bed and kneel between his legs. “I don’t know,”

“Because like it or not, I make you feel good. Right?” Joel taps your cheek, encouraging you to look into his eyes. “I take good care of your pussy, don’t I?”

“You do,” you mumble under your breath.

“Couldn’t hear ya, need ya to speak up f’me. Got bad ears, sweetheart,”

“You do,” you say a little clearer this time.

“One more time. Who takes care of you?”

Oh, you could kill him. He must think this is so funny, watching you squirm and try to spell it all out. But then you remember, with his aching cock in your hand, you don’t have to listen to this. You have the power to shut him up.

You pull his cock out of his pants quickly and part your lips over the blushed tip, tasting his salty precum on your tongue. He loses himself, gasping at the feeling of your tongue circling his tip and tracing thick veins as you lower your head down his cock. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss this.

“Ffff-” he hisses, one of his strong hands tangling in your hair. You’re using your mouth just how he likes, sucking him and swirling your tongue on his shaft. He’s breathing deeply, his soft tummy hitting your forehead with every deep breath he takes.

You relish in the feeling of him falling apart for you, but more importantly the silence. The sexiest thing about Joel is when he shuts the fuck up.

Your nose brushes the tuft of hair surrounding him, pushing yourself deeper and deeper, as deep as you can go. You hollow your cheeks, using your soft and wet mouth to massage him. You feel him twitch in your mouth, and he yanks you up by your arms, spit dribbling down your chin.

Both of you are silent, save for your panting breaths and moans. No words need to be spoken, both of you know exactly what you’re needing. You’ve done this dance a million times before and have memorized a routine.

You straddle Joel’s thighs, centering yourself over his cock. You reach down to grab it and line yourself up, but something changes in Joel. In a swift motion, Joel flips you over on your tummy and presses down on your head with his big hand, using the other to pull your ass up to his cock. You gasp in surprise.

“Stay like that,” he instructs you. “Don’t move.”

You feel so exposed like this, on display and waiting for him to fuck you. Joel shimmies off his pajamas and kneels behind you, dragging the tip of his cock through your slick folds to gather your arousal. Despite the way your cunt drips for him, it’s not enough.

Roughly, he pulls you up by your neck and shoves a palm under your mouth. “Spit,” he commands.

And so you spit into his palm, feeling blood rush to your tummy in nervousness. He’s never been this way with you before.

“We’re doin’ things my way,” you hear him growl as he smears your saliva over his cock. “Been listening to you play with yourself for too damn long.”

“Joel,” you whine, arching your back and pushing into his hips. He swats your ass just enough to sting slightly, not hurting you too bad.

“Shut up,” he says, pushing his tip into your center and dragging it through your folds. “I think,” he starts, notching his tip in your entrance. “I think when you come from now on, it’s gonna be ‘cause I let you.”

You can only mumble in response, head going fuzzy at his words. All you can think about his how much you need to be fucked.

“Think you need to learn some self control,” he begins pushing in at an absolutely achingly slow pace. Millimeter by millimeter.

“Joel, move,” you demand with a groan, ignoring his words and pushing your hips back. He holds your hips tightly, not allowing you to move further. You’re so needy, so ready to just be fucked hard, the way you picture him each night. Pounding into you mercilessly.

“See, now that’s exactly what I’m talkin’ about,” he chides you. “No patience.”

Joel continues pushing into you at a slow pace, letting you feel every inch of his member. He stretches your hole deliciously, allowing you to feel completely full. “Remember what I said? Gotta be gentle, like you love it,”

You’re breathing deeply, waiting for more. Joel pulls out, then slides back in with ease. He’s still going slow, but with enough force that you grunt when he bottoms out inside you.

“That’s it,” he purrs. He watches his cock disappear inside you, then pulls out again. “Good fuckin’ girl.”

He begins fucking you at a steadier pace, somehow finding a happy medium between gentle and rough. “Feelin’ good?”

You’re at a loss for words. You feel all of him, every stroke so fluid yet firm. It’s nearly perfect. “Yes, Joel. Need more, please,”

“Oh, listen to that. Askin’ me nicely,” he says as he picks up his pace. “See what happens when you’re good to me?”

“Mhm,” you choke out. The way he fucks you is brutally delicious, just how you need it. He knows your body like the back of his hand.

“I promise I only wanna help, sweetheart. I know what’s best for you, don’t I?”

You abandon every ounce of protest in your body. Normally you’d bite back to his audaciousness with some quippy remark. But sweet fuck, he does feel good. He knows exactly how to make you dance under his touch, and you relish in the feeling. You almost feel guilty, denying your body this pleasure for so long. “Please, Joel,” is all you can say. And you don’t even know what you’re asking for, you just need Joel and Joel alone.

“I like you like this, beggin’ for me. So much nicer when I fuck you,”

The wet squelching sounds of your pussy fill the room, along with both yours and Joel’s heaving breaths. You feel his balls slapping up against your clit with each and every thrust he delivers onto you.

“Joel, need you,”

“I’ve got you, baby. What do you need?”

You can barely form words, so you let your body do the talking instead. You pull off of his cock and lay down beneath him, your eyes wide and your legs spread. You pull him down to you, kissing and nipping at his hot skin. Your moans are breathy and you buck your hips up to his, telling him what you need.

Joel picks up what you’re putting down. He pulls away from you, lining himself up and pushing into you, as if just picking back up where he started. His arms are bracketed on either side of you as he fucks you, each thrust hitting that sweet spot deep inside. It’s too much, you turn your head to the side and bite into his wrist to keep yourself from screaming his name.

Your pussy squeezes him, walls fluttering and pulsing with every thrust of his cock. His once precise movements are beginning to falter, and he reaches down between your bodies to find your clit.

“Not gonna last if you keep doin’ that t’me,” he warns. “I want you to come with me, okay baby?”

You nod, spreading your legs wider and wrapping them around his torso, the heels of your feet digging into his asscheeks. Your hands are holding onto his thick forearms for dear life, you watch the way his veins twitch and flex under your fingers.

Just like each time he’s fucked you before, it’s almost pathetic the way you come undone for him with such ease. He’s rubbing your clit in steady circles for merely a moment before you come for him, sobbing in pleasure into his skin. When you come, it’s a mixture between explosive and slow. It’s simultaneously fireworks and a pot bubbling over, sending waves of pleasure through your entire body. It’s nearly too intense, your eyes screwed shut as you cry his name like a prayer.

It’s all Joel needed to come. His name on your lips, your cunt gushing and squeezing him. He can’t help but spill inside you, shooting hot ropes of his seed inside you as he helps you ride out your orgasm. He collapses on top of you for a moment, pressing sloppy wet kisses into your skin. You hold him close, savoring the way his body feels so comforting on yours. He’s such a fucking dick, but he’s your person. Your home.

“Fuck, I missed you,” he whispers.

You smile mischievously. You know Joel cares deeply for you, maybe even loves you, but it’s amusing to hear him vocalize that. “You missed me?”

“Ugh, no,” he lies.

“Good,” you say. “I didn’t either.”

Joel leaves then to clean you up, then he gets back into bed pulls you into his side, your head resting on his chest. You fall asleep like that, holding each other sweetly in the early hours of the morning.

Neither you nor Joel never did get much sleep, but at least you were kinder to one another in the morning. No doors or cabinets were slammed in anger, and innocent toasters were free of your verbal abuse.

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hoshifighting · 4 months

Text

Ways to Have a Man in the Palm of Your Hand.

Synopsis: In the flow of uncertainty that defined your situationship with Mingyu, you decide to take action, making Mingyu start chasing after you like a loyal puppy.

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, overstimulation, degradation, begging on knees, oral (f. receiving), fingering– he watches reader fingering herself, handjob, dick riding, penetrative sex, humiliating, manipulation and etc.

Your life connected with Mingyu's since you both first met through your groups of friends, and a situationship had emerged between you two. It was just sex, with no strings attached and no promises made.

Yet, as the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, it became challenging to keep your heart safe from the unpredictable tides of emotion.

Mingyu had a way of making you feel special. He'd surprise you with homemade dinners, he was attentive, considerate, and made sure to put your self-esteem on the highest with his skillful photography.

The tall and good-looking guy wasn't just amazing during sex; he was an enigma that both fascinated and frustrated you. Mingyu could vanish for days, leaving you on blue. But just as you were about to write him off, he'd resurface, as if nothing had happened. It was a maddening cycle, and yet, you found yourself caught in its web.

Mingyu: Hey! Been swamped asf with work lately. Let's grab coffee or something stronger soon? Let me know when you're free!

You couldn't help but scoff as you read Mingyu's message. His casual tone and nonchalant invitation stirred a mix of irritation and amusement within you. Swiftly typing a response, you questioned his unpredictable appearances.

You: Are you planning on always popping up out of nowhere like this?

Mingyu: I always come back, don't I? So, when are we catching up darling?

Despite the inner conflict and your ego's warning signals, there was an undeniable allure to Mingyu's charm. His words, laced with playfulness, had a magnetic effect that bypassed rational thoughts. With a sigh, you found yourself succumbing to the familiar pull.

The room was filled with the echoes of skin slapping as you both lay on Mingyu's bed, your eyes locked as you two moaned out loud, the crescendo of pleasure punctuated by the rhythmic thud of the bed against the wall.

Mingyu lays beside you, the heat of the moment still lingering between your bodies. You rose from the tangled sheets, picking up your scattered clothes. Mingyu's gaze remained fixed on you, an intensity that betrayed a deeper connection than the situationship allowed.

"I really like spending time with you Y/N"

"Me too Gyu."

[...]

Seungkwan leaned in "Okay, spill. What's the latest drama with Mingyu?"

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "Honestly, I can't figure him out. It's like a cycle. We talk every day for a month, hang out, fuck, and then poof! He disappears for a week or more. I don't get it."

Seungkwan chuckled knowingly. "You know, maybe you should try something. Do the same to him, but take it up a notch. Make him miss you even more."

You furrowed your eyebrows, slightly taken aback. "Seungkwan, I'm not into playing games or being spiteful. It's not my style."

He waved his hand dismissively. "No, no, hear me out. It's not about being spiteful. It's about making him realize what he's missing. Mingyu knows you'll always be there, right? So, he takes it for granted. Maybe he needs a taste of his own medicine."

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued but cautious. "And how exactly do I do that?"

Your mouth hung open as Seungkwan delivered his comprehensive lesson in the art of emotional tactics. The confidence in his advice left you both amazed and slightly apprehensive. Unable to contain your curiosity any longer, you finally asked the burning question.

"How on earth do you know all of this, Seungkwan?" you inquired, eyes wide with disbelief.

Seungkwan leaned back, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Well, my dear friend, when you've been in the game as long as I have and witnessed enough romantic dramas unfold, you start picking up on patterns. It's like a survival guide for the heart."

You raised an eyebrow, still processing the information. "Survival guide, huh? And all this contempt, playing hard to get, and hurting egos – that's your secret weapon?"

Seungkwan chuckled, "Not a secret weapon, sometimes, a little strategic move can make all the difference. Trust me, I've seen it all."

With Seungkwan's advice resonating in your mind like a strategic playbook, you approached the next phase of your relationship with Mingyu, with a newfound determination. It felt like diving into a complex homework assignment, each step carefully calculated to shift the dynamics in your favor.

As you decided to implement the first step, a newfound sense of liberation washed over you. You stopped responding to Mingyu's messages immediately and resisted the urge to initiate contact. It felt strange at first, but there was a sense of power in reclaiming your time and not being at his beck and call. Mingyu's messages awaited your attention.

The challenge of making Mingyu realize he could lose you sparked a newfound determination. Your calendar filled up with plans that didn't involve Mingyu. Mingyu, accustomed to your constant availability, seemed to sense the change, though he couldn't quite pinpoint it. He might have been the object of desire for many hoes, but your indifference challenged his accustomed narrative.

After all, a man is not more important than your personal goals, right?

All while allowing Mingyu to observe your life unfolding without him. The realization that you were not waiting by the phone for him sparked a large curiosity.

Throughout the process, a mix of emotions surfaced. Doubt, at times, whispered in the back of your mind – was this the right approach? Seungkwan's advice, unconventional as it was, had brought a shift in Mingyu's behavior. Now, you wondered how Mingyu would respond to the transformed version of you – a person who refused to be taken for granted.

Mingyu's relentless messages flooded your phone. The janitor, a silent witness to the unfolding drama, discreetly shared the news of Mingyu's visits to your condominium entrance. Three times he had appeared, seeking a glimpse of you, only to be met with the absence of your presence, the deliberate distance, and the air of indifference were beginning to provoke a reaction from him.

You were determined to see this journey through, to understand whether Mingyu's renewed interest was genuine or a fleeting reaction to the perceived loss of control.

The persistent pings of Mingyu's messages had become a constant background noise in your life, infiltrating your workdays and even interrupting the serene moments of your brunches.

"Free today, Ms. Busy?"

"Pls respond to me. :(("

"Why are you acting like this?"

"Wtf…"

"Omggg, when are you going to answer me properly?"

"I'll invade your house."

"Y/N-ieeee, pleaseee!"

"I really want to see you right now."

"You make me so confused :("

The encounter at the pedestrian crossing unfolded in a scene of unexpected tension. Mingyu, spotting you in the midst of your Sunday morning run with Seungkwan, seized the opportunity to bridge the gap that had grown between you. As you halted, waiting for the light to change, Mingyu approached, a mixture of eagerness and confusion etched across his face.

"Hey there! Fancy meeting you here," Mingyu greeted, attempting to strike up a conversation.

Seungkwan, standing beside you, looked on with a side-eyed glance, a smirk playing on his lips as he sipped casually from his water bottle. As the pedestrian light shifted to green, you seized the moment to extricate yourself from the short encounter. "Sorry, Mingyu, I really need to finish my morning walk. Catch you later," you excused yourself, leaving Mingyu standing there, perplexed and surrounded by the bustling activity of the street.

He couldn't shake off the confusion – Why weren't you responding as before? Why weren't you as available as you used to be? Did you at least still like him? It dawned on Mingyu that the game had changed, and he wasn't sure if he understood the rules anymore. The pursuit, once fueled by the expectation of your constant availability, now seemed to slip through his fingers like grains of sand. The reality of being just one among the many who sought your attention was a bitter pill to swallow.

[...]

The doorbell's unexpected chime disrupted the tranquility of your self-care routine, with moisturized skin and a mind ready for a cozy movie night, you approached the door, curiosity dancing in your eyes.

As you swung the door open, the sulky face of Mingyu greeted you. A momentary pause hung in the air, your eyes meeting his in silent expectation. Before you could utter a word, Mingyu stepped inside, dropping to his knees and hugging your legs as if seeking solace.

Surprised by his sudden display of vulnerability, you widen your eyes, caught off guard by the intensity of his reaction. The door lingered ajar, and you managed to close it, arms crossed, a mixture of confusion and caution etched on your face.

Mingyu, still hugging your legs, looked up at you with pleading eyes, his voice laden with remorse. "What did I do, Y/N? Why are you treating me like this? I'm sorry."

"Hm?"

He looked up at you, his eyes brimming with a mix of confusion and regret. "I just… I don' understand. I miss you," he admitted, his voice trailing off.

Your initial surprise transformed into a mix of emotions – disbelief, a hint of empathy, and the need to assert your newfound boundaries. Crossed arms and a measured gaze met Mingyu's desperate expression. The sudden intrusion into your personal space prompted a silent assessment of the situation.

"What did you expect, Mingyu?" you countered, your voice steady but laced with the weight of unspoken questions. "You disappear, then reappear, and now you're kneeling in my living room. What's going on?"

"I messed up, okay? I thought I could keep things casual, but I didn't expect to feel like this. I miss the way things used to be between us." he confessed, his voice carrying a raw honesty.

"You ask me to come to your house, and then after you get what you wanted, you let me go. Do I look like a food delivery or something?" you confronted Mingyu, your words cutting through the charged silence that hung in the room.

Mingyu's eyes widened at your accusation, shock and a hint of hurt registering on his face. "No, no, no, Y/N, it wasn't like that."

You raised an eyebrow, a mix of skepticism and frustration evident in your expression. "It feels like you only want me around when it's convenient for you."

Mingyu, still on his knees, looked up at you, his eyes pleading for understanding. "It's not like that. I just... I didn't want to push you. I thought you preferred it this way."

You sighed, the weight of the unresolved tension palpable. "Mingyu, I can't read your mind. If you want me to stay, you have to say it. Communication goes both ways."

"Y/N, I'm truly sorry. I'll do whatever you want. I didn't see you as just a fleeting thing, and I want to be present."

Mingyu's earnest apology hung in the air, a plea for understanding and a promise to change. As he laid his face on your bare thighs, expressing his sincere regret, you cut through the moment with a tsk sound, a dismissive gesture that left him wide-eyed and caught off guard.

"Poor boy, begging on his knees for attention. What a shame," you remarked, a hint of teasing in your voice as you observed his reaction.

Mingyu, his hands now gripping each side of your thighs, sat back on his feet, his expression a mix of surprise and a subtle flush coloring his cheeks. He hadn't anticipated this response, your playful teasing catching him off guard.

"You didn't see me as a fleeting thing?" you continued, your tone mockingly contemplative. "Well, Mingyu, this is quite a sight – you, on your knees, practically begging for my attention. I'd never do something like this."

His widened eyes met yours, uncertainty and a trace of embarrassment flickering in them. Mingyu's bit his lip, cheeks flushing deeper.

"I'll do whatever you want, Y/N. Just tell me," Mingyu replied, his hands still holding your thighs.

You let out a soft chuckle, running a hand through his hair as you continued your teasing. "Oh, Mingyu-ah, the mighty one on his knees. Maybe you'll learn to appreciate what you have when it's not handed to you on a silver platter. Now, let's see if you can keep up with your promises."

As you spoke, Mingyu's cheeks continued to flush, a complex dance of emotions playing out on his face. "How can you forgive me?"

Mingyu's question hung in the air, a genuine plea for forgiveness. You paused, considering the weight of his words, before adopting a more serious tone.

"Get up," you instructed him, your voice carrying a command that seemed to catch him off guard.

Mingyu, without hesitation, rose to his feet from his submissive position. His eyes fixed on you. An arched eyebrow and a smirk played on your face, savoring the moment of dominance as you instructed him to follow you.

The atmosphere grew charged with anticipation as Mingyu attentively trailed behind you, his eyes inevitably drawn to your body covered only by a shirt. The click of your bedroom door signaled a shift in the dynamics, and when you turned to face him, his eagerness manifested in an attempted kiss.

Your finger halted his advance, a calculated pause preceding your question, "Do you think you deserve to kiss me?"

Mingyu, his eyes reflecting a mix of longing and remorse, shook his head no. Your smirk deepened as you delivered a verdict that left him whimpering.

"Then you won't kiss me today."

A whimper escaped Mingyu's lips, a sound that echoed the frustration and desire that simmered beneath the surface. The unexpected turn of events had left him yearning for a connection, yet you, in your assertive control, denied him that solace.

As the tension hung in the air, Mingyu's eyes glistened with unshed tears. The dynamics between you had taken a surprising turn, a power play that left both of you navigating the intricate threads of desire, forgiveness, and the consequences of a maybe – ex-complicated situationship.

With a commanding tone, you instructed Mingyu to kneel once again, a subtle smirk playing on your lips. He obeyed, sinking down to his knees with a mix of anticipation and eagerness. The air in the room crackled with a palpable tension as you laid down the terms.

"If you act like a good boy, maybe I'll forgive you," you declared, your voice carrying a hint of authority.

Mingyu nodded earnestly, a silent pledge to abide by your terms. As you proceeded to remove your shirt, next your pantie, allowing it to fall to the floor, the atmosphere became charged with a new layer of intensity.

"How much do you want this pussy Mingyu?" you inquired, the question hanging in the air as you observed Mingyu's reaction. His shoulders slumped, a subtle expression of desire and longing evident on his face.

"A lot," he moaned, the words escaping his lips with a mixture of need and surrender. Your legs spread open, an invitation too tempting, as he feels his mouth waters at the view.

"Open your mouth," you commanded Mingyu, your voice carrying an air of authority. He complied without hesitation, anticipation flickering in his eyes.

As he held his mouth open, you slid two fingers inside, the intimate contact a subtle exploration of boundaries and desire. Mingyu's tongue teased your fingers, a provocative dance that elicited a hiss from you.

"No teasing," you admonished, a note of warning in your voice. With a swift motion, you delivered a little slap to his chin as you withdrew your fingers from his mouth. The air crackled with a newfound tension, a moment that blurred the lines between control and submission.

Mingyu furrowed his eyebrows, as he watched your fingers slowly disappearing inside of your cunt, your fingers and your slick gushes out of you, and all he can do is watch. He sits patiently on his feet, watching your fingers leaving and entering your pussy in a too provocative rhythm. His bottom lip quivering to the desire of eating you out.

"Please Y/N…"

"What?''

"Please, let me eat you out, it looks so good…"

To tease him even more, you fastened your fingers, moaning while your cunt sounded like Mingyu's favorite song, wet, luscious, mouthwatering, appetizing, tempting. He cries out, his hands together on his lap. "Please, I beg you, I missed you so bad."

The room was charged with a blend of anticipation and surrender as you stopped, taking a moment to look at Mingyu's mournful face. The desire in his eyes was palpable, and the silent plea for what he had begged for lingered in the air.

With a subtle nod, you allowed him to fulfill his request. Mingyu, starved and eager, approached the task with a concentration that hinted at a deep desire to please you. As he held you with a gentle yet fervent touch, mouthing your pussy, licking you clean, his focus on your pleasure was unwavering. The way he clung to you conveyed a fear of losing you, made you mewl as he sucked your clit, you held onto the sheets, a silent anchor in the sea of sensations. Mingyu's devotion and the way he concentrated on your pleasure only intensified the building release within you. Like a wave, you're cumming all over his mouth and chin, he hums in response flickering your clit with his tongue.

"Enough." You breathe out, closing your legs. "Strip, and lay for me."

Mingyu rose from the floor, a determined look on his face, seemingly oblivious to any discomfort his knees might be feeling. The sounds of his clothing being discarded echoed in the room, punctuated by the soft thud as he settled onto the bed. The mattress shifted as he moved closer, his warm touch caressing your arm.

"What are you going to do?" he asked, his voice a low murmur, a hint of curiosity and desire lingering in the air.

"Don't touch me," you instructed Mingyu, your tone carrying a note of command as you climbed onto his lap. Leaving him momentarily frozen, his hands hovering in the air, uncertain of where to go.

The close proximity of his cock intensified the wetness between your thighs. Mingyu, eager and responsive, looked at you with a mix of desire and restraint, his hands now cautiously placed together on his chest.

The atmosphere crackled with a blend of dominance and submission as you straddled Mingyu, humping your wet pussy against his cock, your movements deliberate and provocative. His moans in response to your degrading words only heightened the intensity of the moment.

"Oh my god, look at you," you cooed, your voice a mix of mockery and desire. "I just stopped paying attention to you, and you came fucking begging me to talk with you. You're humiliating, Mingyu."

His moans, a symphony of pleasure and submission, filled the room. Mingyu's response to your degrading words conveyed a complex dance of desire and self-awareness. The acknowledgment that he deserved the degradation.

The room filled with a momentary hush as you sank your hips, Mingyu's length now fully inside. He shut his eyes, a silent surrender to the sensations that enveloped him.

The unspoken admission hung in the air—though you wouldn't openly admit it, there was a trace of longing, a subtle acknowledgment that, despite the complexities, you had missed him a little. The air became charged with a mix of desire and restraint as your hips rode him, his length fully fulfilling the connection between you.

His angry tip brushed against that special spot, sending a surge of pleasure through both of you, cause now, you were so tight around him. "I'm going to cum, f-fuck"

"You better not."

The charged atmosphere intensified as you edged Mingyu, denying him release, while simultaneously relishing in the control you held over his pleasure. He gasped for air, his eyes clenched shut, a desperate attempt to hold back as your dominating presence and the sensations of your movements threatened to overwhelm him.

Your hips moved with a purposeful intensity, driving him to the edge, and his body contorted in a desperate attempt to maintain control. The struggle was evident in the way his breath hitched and his eyes rolled back, succumbing to the overwhelming pleasure that surged through him.

"I-I can't hold it anymore," he stuttered, his voice strained with the effort of restraint.

"If you cum, I will-"

The moment of release was inevitable. Mingyu's hot cum filled you, triggering your own orgasm, he cried out your name, making your wall clench harder around him.

As Mingyu managed a string of apologies, you allowed him to slide out of you, leaving his lap coated with both of your arousal, your legs damp with his seed.

The scoff echoed in the room, a mix of amusement and assertion. However, your actions spoke a different language. As you tighten your legs around the sides of Mingyu's legs, restraining his movement, your hands take control, pumping his cock fast. The focus on his red tip elicited a loud cry from Mingyu, his back lifting off the mattress in response to the overstimulation.

The wet sounds filled the bedroom as the intensity of your touch drove him to the edge. Mingyu's hands gripped the pillow beneath his head, a desperate attempt to anchor himself in the whirlwind of sensations that consumed him.

As Mingyu's body trembled under the heightened sensations, he felt a knot tightening in his abdomen, a sensation he hadn't anticipated. The overwhelming intensity built up to a point where he couldn't contain it anymore. A primal scream tore from his lips, his body convulsing in the throes of another orgasm.

His cum pooled on his abdomen, a physical manifestation of the powerful release that coursed through him. You observed his trembling body, struck by the raw intensity of his response. Mingyu's reaction seemed to surpass any previous experiences, his vulnerability and ecstasy on display in a way you hadn't witnessed before.

"Sorry, I came without your permission…"

"Enough with the sorry's, Mingyu," you said with a soft smile. "Let's just take a bath."

As the warm water cascaded around you, cleansing away the external worries, you both found solace in the simplicity of the moment. Emerging from the bath, you lay on the bed alone, the silence speaking volumes. Mingyu, holding his shirt, stood in contemplation. His gaze met yours, and he released a breath he seemed to have been holding.

The room felt charged with unspoken emotions when Mingyu finally gathered the courage to ask, "Can we sleep together tonight? Can I stay here with you?"

His eyes held a lot of shyness, and for a moment, you felt a genuine change in the air. You bit your lip, a subtle smile playing on your lips. In response, you patted the bed twice, a silent invitation for him to join you.

Mingyu threw his shirt away with a smile, a blend of shyness and excitement. He settled on the bed, maintaining a cautious distance, uncertain about what the night held. Your gaze met his, and you turned to face him. His eyes sparkled, and with a newfound boldness, he closed the gap and hugged you tightly.

"Don't be away from me again," he whispered, his voice tinged with vulnerability. And for the first time in those weeks, you let yourself savor the sweet taste of his pink soft lips, making him melt in response.

You smiled, your palms sliding gently along his back. The walls that once stood between you seemed to crumble as Mingyu embraced you, his actions speaking louder than any words. In that moment, it felt like a page turned, and a new chapter began.

Well, Seungkwan, you knew a lot. The five ways to have a man in the palm of your hand indeed.

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neckromantics · 6 months

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Astarion has an undying love for the innocent little kisses you give him.

They make him giddy almost, in a way he never thought he'd be able to feel again. He loves that you're drawn to him the second everyone's attention is directed elsewhere. Loves how you always- in that oh-so special way of yours- make sure he's okay with how close you're getting before you lean in and plant a soft little smooch to whatever part of him you're nearest at the time.

(He even loves the way you smile reassuringly when you see something in him that tells you he needs space- sometimes before he himself knows it- and you back away without so much as a sniff. Always patient, and never once disappointed. It's so sweet that it's almost sickening- makes his teeth hurt.)

His knees weaken at the feeling of your lashes against the soft skin of his cheek. Practically buckle whenever you mouth at the corner of his jaw before whispering softly into his ear. Sometimes it's just to tell him you love him, other times it's to make an offhand comment about someone neither of you particularly like. And, how you breathe a laugh so quiet that only he can hear when he responds to whatever you said with an equally hushed quip??

On occasion he'll find the courage to reach out and hold your hand when you're sat together by the fire, and you get this big, dumb smile on your pretty face. Your gratitude comes in the form of kisses- one to each of the knuckles on his offered hand. One. Two. Three. Four. By the fifth one, he can feel a warmth radiating from your flushing face, so hot it rivals the heat from the campfire.

He could go on forever.

When he's lent over a book and you bend down low enough to press your lips to the top of his head and not so subtly inhale the scent of his hair? The same kiss to his forehead that comes every night without fail before you're off to bed? The chaste press to the apple of his cheek as you're passing by, too busy with a particular task to stop and chat? The one between his brows that you let linger just long enough to rid him of the crease that comes with a bout of frustration?

Hells, sometimes you'll simply peck his shoulder in response when he teases you with a nudge mid-banter, and it nearly sends him to the ground. There's just something so… nice about it? The way you're kissing him as a way to express adoration, with nary an expectation to what comes after? Truly just to kiss him, and nothing more??

It'd be maddening,

if he didn't love it so godsdamned much.

#astarion ancunin #bg3 #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion headcanons #baldurs gate 3 #astarion #astarion please i beg of you #just one chance

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anantaru · 8 months

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loser bf kuni or rockstar bf kuni? 🎤

cw. he's a loser, but our loser </3 while rockstar scara? he's a vibe, fem! reader

loser! boyfriend kuni whose dick gets hard whenever he thinks about you, a single thought about being buried inside your warm cunt and he's throbbing, painfully so, his pants tight when he decides to pull them down at last, honestly fed up with all of this, leaving the roughened garment to lazily dangle around his knees, imagining your lingering tongue on his wet tip.

he starts slow now, easily wrapping his slender digits around his thudding shaft before draping his head forward a little, just a bit, so a globule of his spit can hit his achung tip as he hisses out at the contact of the slippery saliva, it's so painful to him, it almost makes him tear up from it— so, he rolls his hips, grinding deep into the little opening and sending a shiver through his flesh and blood in a hot sizzle of shockwaves.

and you? well, you've been fairly busy today, whilst barely able to see him at all and it‘s so frustrating, fuck, kuni cannot stop rolling his eyes in annoyance!

yet he permits himself a chuckle, thinking about what he‘ll do once you‘re finally back.

because in this moment in time, a sliding second gone by, there was nothing, and i mean nothing, he longed for more than having your pretty, wet lips sealed around his cock as he fucks your throat raw and greedy, your mouth in a slow, sucking kiss leaving him be.

his hand was now pushing up and down his dick, nothing more but a clear vision in his mind, the sinful fantasy being about you— your eyes doused and glowing, lashes wet with your mascara filthily smeared around your face, cheeks all cutely hollowed as you drink him up— everything.

ugh, he's such a loser, it's so embarrassing, but he's your loser, right? and that's all he needed to be.

rockstar! boyfriend kuni who gives you his all, his entire heart, to always make you feel the absolute best, treating you as the princess that you are.

whilst yes, there‘s a ton of quite taxing groupies that were only waiting for a single chance with the world star— but, quite frankly, he doesn‘t give a fuck, because in his enchanting eyes, there was only one individual that had captured his heart.

and he melts right into you, tongue twisting into your own as probes his cock to the rim, your pussy swallowing him so fucking wonderfully that it makes his cheeks all sweet and round, being sucked in by a warm, puffy cunt such as yours.

"there you go." he coos, placing a little kiss on the tip of your nose, "don‘t hold back for me, okay?"

and you instantly whine at the sugar coated tune, lifting your hips next only to have them forcibly pushed back by his bare hands, "i won’t! i‘m so close— so‘close."

kuni pushes in, slow and steady movements drilling past your wet folds, letting more of his weight rest against your body as he mouths a needy kiss against your throat— and the way you shifted under his touch was maddening to the rockstar, something that could not be compared to anything, not even a sold out concert and loud, worshipping fans would come close to this.

he loves you so much, and each thrust easily slides the length of his cock over your walls— tasty, perfect heat surrounding your sweaty bodies as you tense down your core at the raw pleasure, muscles clamping down when you at last, climax at his stuttering thrusts.

#genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche smut

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leighsartworks216 · 3 months

Text

Obedient Pet

dom!bottom!Astarion x male!sub!top!Tav/Reader

I saw a while ago something that said being dominant is not the same as being a top, and GOD it did things to my brain chemistry. So this mixed with my belief Astarion would be quiet in bed once he's comfortable and neglect to focus on his own wants/needs

SMUT BELOW THE CUT

Warnings: swearing, dacryphilia/crying, dom/sub, collars, gagging, not being able to breathe (for a moment), anal sex, face-fucking, references to punishment

Word Count: 1,276

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

The chain trailing from the collar around your neck to Astarion's tight fist rattled with every little motion. The sound would have been annoying if it weren't harmonizing with the wet slap of skin.

You kept your hands safely constrained, arms folded behind your back, nails pressing into your skin. You'd tried touching him once already; your cock still weeped from the torture of waiting. Your tears and quiet whimpers were music to Astarion's pointed ears, but the sight of you so drunk on his orders was truly something special.

"Slower," he ordered. You whined, but obeyed. You gasped as you forced your hips to pull out maddeningly slowly, until the flushed tip of your sensitive cock nearly slipped out. With the slightest tug at your chain, you thrust just as slowly back inside. "Good boy."

Astarion smirked at the visible reaction his words had on you. The chill that chased goosebumps down your body, the swallow to fight back your moans, the beautiful way your chest and stomach rose and fell with each hot breath. To say nothing about the feeling of your cock twitching within him, or the pitter-patter of your heart.

You were not dominant, that much had been clear to the vampire practically from the moment he laid eyes on you. Two hundred years gave one a sense for these things. He relished in fucking you face down into the dirt or settling your legs over his shoulders as he ruined you. But this? This was pure ecstasy. Being fucked by a pet who answered to his every command - now that was something.

"Are you close, pet?" he purred sweetly. You nodded with an acute franticness. He tugged at your chain, dragging your face closer, forcing your wet eyes on him as you keened so deliciously. "Use your words."

Like the pitiful whine of an injured dog, you cried, "Yes."

Even through your tears you could see the gears turning in his head as he decided whether to end your suffering or see just how much more you could fall apart. With a hum, he eased up on your chain, allowing you to sit back up on your knees. "Go ahead then. Cum for me, my dear."

He groaned as you set a frenzied pace. Fast, deep thrusts that tuned him into his own body, making him realize how much your own punishments and obeying had affected him.

You panted as you chased your high. It was right there, within reach. You could feel it coming up on you like a runaway carriage. You fought through the building euphoria to look at your lover. His head was tilted back into the pillow, mouth open and eyes shut as he lost himself to your own desperation. His cock lay heavy on his stomach, bouncing with each thrust and glistening as precum dripped onto his pale skin.

But the most maddening thing of all, the sight that sent you careening over the edge, was watching your dick fuck into him. You cock disappearing into his asshole as it clenched around you, pushing so fucking deep inside. Your breath caught in your throat, your thrusts became short. With his name on your lips, you buried yourself as deep as you could and released. Your cock twitched and strained as you spilled hot strings of cum inside Astarion.

He bit his lip, back arching. When you pulled your soft cock out of him, still dribbling cum, he growled quietly with frustration. He had not found his release. No matter - he was no stranger to finish himself off later. He would just-

"Ah~!" His eyes shoot open and nearly roll back in his skull as he watches you suck at the head of his dick. Your eyes are closed. Your hand guides him to your mouth, squeezing and stroking him in small, slow motions.

He props himself up on one hand, the one holding the chain, and tangles the other in your hair. "Good boy," he mutters, far too focused on your tongue licking at his slit to try sounding in any way dignified.

You bob your head, hollowing your cheeks as you slowly work more and more of him into your mouth. Your teeth graze his skin, like a silent threat. He wonders for a brief second if that is how you feel when he bites you; the trust that he will not drain you dry with the thrill that he could nonetheless.

"Fuck," he breathes sharply as his tip prods the back of your throat. He grips tighter at your hair, holding you in place, your nose pressing against his abdomen. He can feel the shaky breaths you take, struggling around his cock.

He lifts your head back up, almost pulling you off. Even now, you are so obedient. All the power is in his hands. It's addicting.

As you suck languidly at the head of his cock, you open your eyes to look up at him. Your pupils are dilated, lids drooped ever so slightly. Drool slips from the corner of your mouth, down your chin. Your cheeks shimmer with nearly-dried tears.

"So beautiful." He sighs as he guides you back down on him, groaning as you swallow around him. "Fuck. Such a good pet."

Your eyes shut again as you allowed yourself to be fully controlled. It started out rather slow, never pushing too far. All too quickly, it devolved while he chased his release.

He could not guide your head fast enough. With a string of curses you couldn't understand, he fell back onto the bed and grabbed your head with both hands. He held you steady as he thrust up, cock rutting against the back of your throat. You gagged and fought to breathe through your nose, but you did not stop him. More tears pooled in your eyes as your lungs ached.

With a few final, harsh thrusts and the sweet whisper of your name, hot cum filled your mouth. You clutched at the bed as you struggled to swallow it all. You aren't sure if he noticed your struggle, or if he'd only done it for his sake, but he pulled you off of him before he was fully finished, spilling the last of his seed on his stomach.

You breathed greedily through your nose as you swallowed the last of his cum, opening up your mouth and showing off the flat of your tongue to prove it.

His cool hands gently released your hair and worked instead to brush the tears and spit off your face. You tiredly leaned into the touch, welcoming every soft caress.

"Are you alright?" he asked quietly, worriedly.

You nodded slightly. Your throat ached, your hair stung where he'd pulled on it, your body was exhausted, but you were no worse for wear. You cleared your throat with a wince and murmured, "Just gotta breathe."

He brushed his thumbs over your eyelashes. "I'll try not to get so carried away next time.” He tsked. “You mortals are so fragile."

You smiled and finally opened your eyes. He grinned. Your body complained as you sat yourself back up, shivering as the cold chain brushed your skin. Astarion followed you up and worked quickly and efficiently to remove the leather collar. He set it aside in favor of brushing his lips over the raw skin.

"You did so well," he hummed. Your head fell to the side automatically, allowing him more access. As tempting as it was, you were drained enough without him taking a sip. Instead, he pressed a kiss to your jaw and pulled away. "Come on, dear. Let's get you cleaned up."

---

Tag List:

@satelliteapotheosis @hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @marina-and-the-memes @furblrwurblr @cappsikle @mjmygd @thegirlsadventuresinwonderland @kindadolly @bloopthebat @pandimoostuff @chesb0red @black-star1472 @sessils @puppyg1rl666 @cyber-dump-171 @twinkliker3000 @cherifrog @catching-fire-in-the-wind @thespectacularspaceace @lynnlovesthestars @ashrio20 @bambamwolf87 @astarion-imagine-archive @thistrashisreadytobash @bongwaterflavoredgatorade @the-lake-is-calling @nyxmainex @squid-killer @godoffuckedupcats @dark-angel-is-back @gaymistakeboi @asterordinary

#fanfic #fanfiction #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x male tav #astarion x male reader #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate astarion #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 astarion #male reader #x reader #x male reader #smut

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bby-blu-swirll · 7 months

Text

insomnia - scenario ! w/ bakugo, todoroki, iida, & kirishima

at the time of starting this,, i posted a whole short a few hours ago, but i can't sleep and it's getting frustrating, so here's some little whatever's so i don't go bonkers in my little corner <3

( in my experience, insomnia is very very frustrating and kinda makes me want to bash my head in and throw myself into the mediterranean, so i may or may not be slightly touching on those feelings here as well idkk )

bakugo :

tbh if you came knocking at his door in the small hours of the morning, he would probably seem a bit irritated ( dw he isn't he's just worried about you and doesn't know how to show it. and he might be just a little irritated, )

"the hell are you doing up this late?"

he'd lean against his doorframe as you explained - you'd been trying to sleep for hours, but you just couldn't get tired, couldn't get comfortable, couldn't keep your eyes closed. and it was just a bit maddening,

with a heavy sigh, he'd open up his door and step to the side ( a silent invitation into his dorm ).

bffr tho as soon as he closes that door, he's pulling you into a hug, rubbing your back, massaging your head and just holding you to his chest. he wouldn't say anything, just hold you, making sure to take deep, slow breaths.

eventually he would pull out of your arms and make his way back to his bed, rolling onto his back. at first you thought that was his way of telling you that you were done there, but after a second of you not moving, he would open his eyes and look over to you, motioning to his chest.

"are you coming or what?"

he would sleep as he usually did, with an arm behind his head, but tonight his free hand was around your waist, holding you close.

he wouldn't draw attention to it, but he would do his best to stay awake until you were out. he'd use his thumb or fingers to draw small patterns on your torso to try and lull you to sleep.

the more you came to his door at night, the less he asked.

eventually it got to the point of you coming in without knocking, and just crawling into bed with him. he never seemed to mind though. as soon as he was stirred, he would look around a bit, see you, and relax again, wrapping an arm around you.

he'd give you a half awake, "you okay?" just in case it was worse than usual, or if it had a more specific cause.

under the circumstance you said no, he would sit up so he wouldn't fall asleep and just listen to you talk until you were ready to pass out in his arms again <3

todoroki :

he understands sleeping problems, they probably plagued him in and out of his childhood.

the first time you had come knocking at his door, he was concerned. he would try to help, offer to make you tea or get you a blanket or melatonin or anything you could need.

but if it got to the point you were willing to wake him up, then you had already tried everything. dragging him into your waking nightmare was the last thing you wanted to do, really.

before he could finish his list of solutions, you had your arms wrapped around his waist and your body weight leaning against his.

"whoa, hon, hey..."

he would hold you up and support you immediately, kissing your head and lifting your chin to face him.

he would push some hair from your face and smile at you. maybe kiss the tip of your nose,

"don't worry love, i'll take care of you.."

he'd lie in bed with you, playing with your hair and just brushing his fingertips across your skin. he would probably lie awake just a bit, racking his brain over you.

he just wanted to help you, and knowing there was nothing more he could do than hold you and try his best to be comforting, it just didn't feel like enough. in perfect contrast, though, he couldn't help but know exactly how you felt.

when he was young and still shouldering his father's abuse alone, he had plenty of sleepless nights that nothing but the sunrise could put an end to. he was, at the very least, grateful he could be one thing he didn't have- warmth and comfort to reassure you that you weren't dealing with all this alone.

all his guilt dissipated when you were quietly breathing in his arms, fast asleep, a few minutes later.

in the future, on those especially rough nights that you found yourself at the door of his dorm, he would always be there for you.

he had begun to insist that you didn't need to keep knocking, and after some time you finally listened. some nights, you just went over before either of you first went to bed in the first place.

he didn't shift much in his sleep, but even when he did, he would always find a way to keep his hands on you. the physical contact seemed to be good for you and your insomnia, so he made it a point to offer that comfort, even when he was unconscious. <3

extra - he definitely started getting a second glass of water for his room at night, just for you

iida :

he did react poorly when you first came knocking on his door in the middle of the night, breaking curfew and the rules of being in each other's dorms past dark. (ESPECIALLY your partner's dorm). just know that it wasn't personal.

he was about to scold you in a whisper tone, but put a full stop to that the moment he noticed that you looked as though you were about to cry.

"uh- y/n? are you alright?"

his voice was gentle and concerned, his intense respect for the rules going out the window the second he saw you hurting. he would hold out a hand to carefully cup your jaw, his worry growing when you just closed your eyes and leaned into his touch.

"oh... come in, darling, tell me what's bothering you."

he would turn on whatever his softest light was and sit you down on his bed. he, of course, would take his desk chair and move it so he could sit across from you. after all, if he had no clue what made you so upset, he wouldn't want to risk making you uncomfortable as well.

as soon as you explained your troubles, he went straight into logical solutions. though his intentions were the most pure, his words were frustrating nonetheless.

"a nice cup of chamomile should do the trick!" "have you made sure you've been off your phone for at least an hour before you retire for the night?" "i've heard wonderful things about melato-"

"iida."

you didn't even want to give him a chance to finish that last thought. you thanked him for his efforts, you really did appreciate them, but you were insistent that this was a continuous issue that you've tried everything and them some to cure.

you explained the frustration of lying awake, tossing and turning, never quite comfortable and never quite tired enough. hour after hour of constant moving and shifting that feel like second and an eternity at the same time.

iida was a man of logic, but he was also a man with a heart. he understood frustration, feeling powerless and completely stuck.

so, where logical solutions had failed, he knew now what was left to do was just to comfort you and be there.

over the course of your relationship, you had shaken him a bit loose of being so uptight. especially when it came to pda and physical touch, and ESPECIALLY when it came to being 1 on 1 inside the dorms. despite all that, he would still normally put up some kind of protest as you tried to weasel your way into his lap before he gave up.

this time, however, he made no effort to stop you from curling up to him once he switched off the lights. he understood this is just where you were right now and what you were needing, and this is all he could do, and he was happy to break the rules for your sake.

so much so, that this became regular. he would leave his door unlocked for you to come in and snuggle up to him however you'd like, and he would wake up for long enough to adjust to you, hold you and ask if you were all right before you could both drift off.

any night without fail, he would do whatever he needed to to help you out, even though that definitely went against his intense respect of the ua dorm code. as long as aizawa never found out, he was free to care for his darling girl another night. <3

kirishima :

he's the kind of boyfriend who's like your built in best friend. except you can make out with him.

the first time you had trouble sleeping, you told him immediately the next morning.

"bro i had the worst time trying to sleep last night,"

and the next

"omg babe it happened again."

and kirishima is honestly the biggest sweetheart, he's just trying to be manly and be there for you, so it's safe to say he would have extended an invitation to his dorm by the third time you mentioned it. maybe even sooner.

we all know he's smart, but his first thought probably wouldn't be all the herbal remedies and healthy living practices that could solve your problem. he probably did some research on them when your issues first started, but the second you found out the didn't work, he dropped them to find some other fix. turns out, it was him.

you would knock at his door, just a bit nervous he would be upset even though he had offered beforehand.

he would know it was you, immediately, and answer all sleepy and half awake. rubbing his eyes, he'd lean against his doorframe and put an arm around your waist.

"hey, baby.. 's it happening again?"

you would just nod and he would lead you inside, his hand never leaving your lower back.

"is there anything i can do, or do you wanna just try and go to sleep?"

he would definitely make sure you were completely taken care of - if you needed a glass of water or wanted a snack, he would personally get you one from downstairs and insist that you don't worry your pretty little head and just get nice and cozy in his bed.

once he was positive you had everything you could possibly need, he would snuggle all close to you in any way.

he probably mostly sleeps on his back, with you lying on his chest. he'd have one hand on your back and the other in your hair, brushing through it gently or just massaging your scalp, just trying to help you relax.

sometimes he'd spoon you, just pressed to you with an arm draped over your waist, holding you close. on those nights, he would probably move your shirt up just a bit to be able to trace small circles on your skin. (his hands are warm too aww)

but no matter how you were lying together, he would always be whispering sweet little nothings to you.

extra lol -

there was one time when you said you wished you could get some fresh air, and he was ready to sneak out in 3 minutes. it was freezing outside, but he just said it was just more reason to keep an arm around you while you wandered the bright and colorful streets of musutafu past midnight.

(iida definitely caught you guys on your way back in, but he let it slide when you agreed to do the dishes for a few nights. (kirishima took most of that responsibility too lol <3) )

if anybody wants me to do this w/ different characters, my inbox is open ! it's also open for any other requests <33

my last few posts have pretty much all been some kind of hurt/comfort so i think i wanna do something more fun and cutesy or smth lol anyway

i love you sm sleep well !! 💗💗

#love you all <3 #mwah <3 #insomia #shoto x reader #iida x reader #bakugou x reader #kirishima x reader #my hero academia #bnha #mha #bakugou katsuki #kacchan #shoto x y/n #shoto todoroki #todoroki x reader #kirishima eijirou #tenya iida

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tenaciousarcadeexpert · 4 months

Text

list of young actresses of color who deserve to have more recognition and opportunities as actors like Florence Pugh, Anya Taylor-Joy, Kathryn Newton, Millie Bobby Brown etc. It would be refreshing to see more of these talented and underrated actresses of color

*Note, the list consists of actors born within the mid 90s-2000s. This might not be a complete list so whoever sees this is welcome to add more actors that I missed. I might update this post from time to time

This list has gotten so long that I have to make a separate one for male actors of color

Rachel Zegler-(she deserved way better than the hate over snow white)

Lana Condor-(aside from x-men apocalypse and the to all the boys trilogy, she hasn't done much blockbusters compared to Noah, despite her being the lead in the latter films)

Dominique Thorne-(She has her Ironheart and deserves more opportunities, both in the mcu and outside)

Halle Bailey

Maitreyi Ramakrishnan

Lola Tung-(same example with Lana, pretty jarring how her male co-stars are getting work beyond the summer i turned pretty and yet there's nothing from Lola)

Ashley Liao

Megan Suri-(another cast member from Never Have I Ever who also deserves all the opportunites)

Joy Sunday-(Bianca from Wednesday, deserves as much love as Emma Myers)

Iman Vellani-(Ms Marvel/Kamala Khan herself, deserves to have a thriving career and be as big like Tom Holland)

Ayo Edebiri-(2023 was a big year for her, hopefully it continues and she's not overlooked or overshadowed by her white co-stars in The Bear)

Savannah Smith-(Carried the gossip girl reboot, she deserves to have as much recognition as Leighton and Blake did after the original Gossip Girl series)

Madison Reyes-(Julie and the Phantoms deserved better than to be cancelled after one season and with a cliffhanger. Let her star in a musical and or disney film)

Simone Ashley-(One of the main leads in Bridgerton yet Phoebe and Nicola have more upcoming projects than her in Hollywood)

Charithra Chandran

Arsema Thomas

India Amarteifio

Madeleine Madden-(Carried season 2 of The Wheel of Time and if you watched the whole season, you'll understand why)

Moses Ingram-(Did not deserve the hate over the Obi Wan Kenobi series)

Minnie Mills-(She deserved to appear in season 2 of The Summer I Turned Pretty)

Amrit Kaur

Alyah Chanelle Scott-(it's frustrating that both the main leading ladies of color are overshadowed by Renee Rapp and Pauline, who's related to Timothy)

Letitia Wright-(Pretty jarring how she's been in plenty of mcu projects yet it's easy to count the number of roles she's been in outside the mcu, and has been acting since 2011, longer than Florence Pugh, Anya Taylor Joy and Millie Bobby Brown. Wright has even acted as long as Sophie Turner and Maisie Williams and they've been in more projects than her)

Yasmin Finney-(She's done both Heartstopper and Doctor Who)

Imani Lewis-(First Kill deserved better than being cancelled after one season. Let her do more horror and supernatural themed

Leah Jeffries-(Deserves all the support especially once the Percy Jackson series comes out)

Auli'i Cravahlo

Erin Kellyman-(After the Han Solo film, The Falcon and the Winter Soldier and Willow, let her appear in more sci-fi and action blockbusters)

Sadly, tumblr has a 30 limit on adding gifs. I definitely missed so many on the list. Anyone is welcome to add more to the list. All of these talented actresses deserve all the love, appreciation and more opportunities and roles

I might do a part 2 which will include male actors

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j0kers-light · 10 months

Note

Joker, but with a virgin reader who barely understands sex stuff cuz they grew up overly sheltered and innocent, so he essentially has to teach them through it and introduce some kinky stuff to them

His Lighthouse: Sweet Girl (LedgerJoker x f!reader)

Sweet Girl - Oneshot

KEEP IN MIND THIS IS NOT A STORY UPDATE!

Author’s note:

Hey hi anon!! I am so sorry it took me an entire week to fill this request! I got carried away and went down a perfectionist spiral trying to envision Joker in this situation. It was difficult to keep him in character but still caring enough for Y/n who is virtually clueless! I hope you enjoy the story!

You can find part two here!!

taglist:

@blackreaderatrisk @twinkledinkle @clemdango04 @l3ejm @tears-of-amber @what-an-angel @darthjokerisyourfather @thatsnoteii @dollster @cheetahspy @kaidennnnn @urdariingdoll @motivation-idontknowher

Let me know if you want to be added to the His Lighthouse taglist!

You are truly his sweet girl in every definition of the word.

Joker's sweet little doll he so desperately wants to defile. He greatly admires your innocence and the way you view the world. Joker wants nothing more than to continue sheltering you, but he's at his wit's end holding back his passion.

Everyday his patience wanes and it's only a matter of time before he pounces on his prey. You.

He wants to sink his teeth into your skin and hear you cry out in pleasure with every snap of his hips. He wants to see your brain turn off from an overload of pleasure. It's not a want anymore but a need. He needs to break you.

He can't wait anymore and judging by your coy smiles and teasing touches, he knows you want this too.

Although Joker should've known something was wrong since things between you and him never advanced any further than kissing. You would shy away the minute he grabbed your hips or tried to remove any article of clothing from you.

He should have noticed the telltale signs.

Months of hiding at your place in your pink little bubble, far far away from mean old Gotham City, and all that Joker had to show for as process with you was cuddling or making out.

Nothing more, nothing less. It was frustrating for sure.

Joker knew you were attracted to him; he saw it in the way your eyes widened and lingered on him.

You would bite your lip whenever he purposefully let his shirt ride up or whenever he picked you up to show off his strength. He even came out of the shower dripping wet without a towel once— you tucked tail and ran to your room.

Joker was using every trick in the book to get a reaction from you, however; you stayed demure and kept your hands to yourself. It was maddening!

Even at night when the two of you were preparing for bed, (separately, much to his irritation) he'd pull you close and rock his hips into yours.

"Wanna sleep with meee tonight, baby doll?" You would flush red and wiggle out of his arms before stampering out a million no's and vanish from sight.

Joker hated hearing your door slam close but what could he do? He was running out of options.

There were so many clues in front of him regarding this dilemma but the truth finally came to light one day he had you trapped underneath him on the bed.

No more running. No more excuses. He was claiming you tonight.

He was attacking your neck with kisses and actively grinding his hard on into your pretty shorts. The skimpy things you wore around the house tested his limited sanity! Were you trying to seduce him? Bravo, because you succeeded. And he was supposed to be impervious to your charms and be a gentleman. Screw that.

Your body was a prize to be had and Joker waited long enough to have it.

He had the helm of your shirt balled up to your abdomen when you froze. "W-Wait um Joker. I-I.."

"Shhhh little bunny.. I just wanna see ya."

You didn't like that and tried pushing Joker up and off. How did he get you on the bed in the first place you wondered?

Joker noticed your aversion to his touch and growled in annoyance. Every freaking time he tried to get closer with you; you pushed him away. He had enough. He no longer had any patience to deal with this anymore.

"What's the deal, hmm? You don't li-ke me anymore?"

Your eyes immediately locked with his. "N-No! I like you.. it's just..." You wavered.

"Just whaT? Hmm? Tell me bunny! Open that pretty... little mouth of yours and tell me."

You did the exact opposite. You bit your lip and looked away from Joker. Your selective shyness was rather annoying at this point and Joker let his frustrations be known.

"You're such a cocktease ya know that? Runnin' around in these shorts and things making those little... noises when ya think I don't notice. Yeah, I hear em doll. You're killing me but the second I touch ya, this happens!" Joker gestured at you cowering away from him.

"What are ya, some virgin or something?" He sighed to himself. But then he looked down at you in shock when he heard your soft yes.

Oh. He was a f___king idiot.

You were holding back tears and the second Joker realized his mistake and touched your arm, they burst to the surface.

"Ohhh.. Bunny noo. Look at me." You did and shined your e/c at him. "There she is.. my sweet girl. Why didn't you tell me?"

He lied back on the bed and dragged you with him to recline on his chest. You were perfectly fine cuddling with J. Anything else after that was scary.

He couldn't see your face since it was buried in his shirt so you answered him truthfully.

"I.. I thought you knew.." You mumbled. Joker smacked his lips and started stroking your hair. You left it down today and he loved its wild, untamed state.

He really didn't know and he felt stupid for not realizing it sooner and for making you feel uncomfortable around him. He worked so hard in the beginning to make you not fear him. He didn't exaggerate his words as much, he cut down on his fear tactics around you, virtually everything about himself was altered to gain your trust.

You were a timid little thing, eager to help him hide from the GCPD in exchange for nothing. You cooked, cleaned, kept him company (just not sexually) all with a smile on your face. You were so naïve yet brave, of course Joker fell for you!

You laughed at his silly jokes and that smile of yours was worth losing pieces of himself to appease you. He'd do anything to make you happy.

But Joker wanted more. He wanted to be selfish.

He wanted to corrupt your sweet and innocent demeanor and mold it to his will. He wanted those big doe eyes of yours to cloud over with lust and your full plump lips to stretch around his cock as he choked you with it.

He knew you'd be perfect underneath him; you were already such a sweet thing. A true people pleaser; doing any and everything to make his stay at your place more enjoyable.

What he would really enjoy is your pussy milking his cock for what it's worth.

It's all he thought about these days but you couldn't handle him removing your shirt, how in the world would he train you to be his cum-drunk bunny?

But Joker loved a challenge and you... you were worth the hassle.

"I never wanna scare my bunny away. She's so perfect, and oh so sweet. Too sweet.." He kissed you so softly, it made your head spin.

Joker pulled back before things started to get heavy, "But I realllly wanna taste ya more, Y/n. You trust me?"

You looked down and away until Joker chased after you. "No no nooo. None of that. Don't look away. I can teach you if you want."

"Teach me? But what if... What if I'm not good enough?" You whimpered.

That's what you were worried about? He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. This was all in your head.

"Won't know until you try." He sang back. You seemed to understand that much and shifted your weight to straddle Joker more properly. He exhaled through his nose when you unknowingly rocked your hips into his dick.

"Okay. I think I wanna try now. Is that okay? C-Can we try right now, J?"

How could he say no to such a sweet request? You were so embarrassed yet enthusiastic about this, it made him go crazy. He kept his hands behind his head and sighed.

"Depends... How far ya wanna go?" He asked.

"What do you mean? How far with what?"

It took everything in Joker not to groan in frustration. Did your parents not teach you anything about sex? What kind of upbringing did you have to not know anything?

Joker wasn't sure if he could handle teaching you from scratch but everyone had to start somewhere.

"What do ya know about sex, Y/n?"

He watched you squirm and bite your lip. You had to know something to be interested and he would wait to see what he was working with before going further.

"Um.. the doctor at the clinic said it shouldn't h-hurt if my partner um.. p-preps me enough with foreplay. I think that means kissing and cuddling but once she brought out two dolls and started talking about positions I.. she lost me."

Joker was lost too. "Doctor?"

You nodded and wiggled your hips against him. You seriously had to stop doing that..

"I went to get checked after I saw you come out of the shower that day. I got really wet and uncomfortable um, d-down there, and nothing I did made the feeling go away. S-So I panicked and went to the clinic! It was super embarrassing but I think I understand the logistics of it all a little better. Joker? Are you okay?"

You poked his cheek since he looked spaced out and he had every right to be.

Horny. You were horny and didn't know why. Nothing you did made the feeling go away and he remembered back to that night when you trapped yourself in your room.

Just what all did you try? Did you get yourself off? How did you do it?

And then everything clicked. Your lingering eyes, the tiny shorts and flimsy tops. Those f__king thigh high socks... You started wearing them more and more frequently after his little shower stunt. Your body wanted him even if your brain didn't comprehend.

He was gonna have so much fun corrupting you.

In the blink of an eye, Joker had you flat on your back with your arms above your head. You were in shock, it happened so fast.

Joker let out a shaky exhale and looked you over.

"Next time you feel wet, come to me. I'll help.. relieve that pain, mkay? Do you feel wet now?" He asked as he grinded his knee into your sex. You jerked in his hold and winced.

"Um, a little.. that feels funny."

"Describe it to me." Joker purred into your ear. He trailed kisses down your neck to distract you from noticing he was lifting your top up.

Stupid thing wasn't covering anything, it was so thin.

"Ah! I-I feel warm and.. it aches.. but I don't know why. It's almost like there's an itch I need to scratch but I tried that!"

Joker had the brief image of your tiny hands poking and prodding your opening, trying desperately to soothe something only his cock could reach.

"Poor little bunny. Wanna know why it aches mmh?"

He heard you sigh out a yes. By then Joker was kissing your heaving chest and had an idea. Why remove your top the boring way? Nothing about tonight would be normal.

You gasped as Joker tore your top right off your body. Your breasts bounced from the action and Joker groaned seeing them already erect sans a bra. Just the perfect size for him to squeeze and worship. He was drooling already.

He locked eyes with you with a wolfish smile. "Cuz your greedy little pussy wants my cock.

"Y-Your cock?"

Joker groaned and leaned down to suck a nipple into his mouth while his hand got well acquainted with the other. It was so soft and tasted even better, but hearing your surprised moans was the topping on the cake.

You didn't know your breasts could feel so good but Joker's tongue swirling around the bud before his teeth bit it gently, was electrifying. It made the unknown feeling return tenfold.

"J-Joker! It's back! I feel weird again.."

Joker let your nipple go with a loud pop and gave the same attention to its twin but not without subtly rocking his hips into yours. Your wail was torturous.

"No! T-That's not it!" You sobbed even though your hips bucked up to meet Joker's. Something about the motion felt right, but it was missing a key element. Then you remembered Joker's comment.

"Can your umm.. cock fix it?"Joker groaned in pain. You would be the death of him. As if hearing you speak about it, his dick throbbed in his pants.

He looked up at your adorable pout and smiled. "Already using such ahh, vulgar language, baby doll. Goood girl. I knew your mouth was dirty."

He kissed down your stomach until he reached the band of your shorts. You braced your weight on your elbows to watch him. How was your mouth dirty? Did you say something bad?

Never mind that, Joker was finally addressing the problem dead on. "Are you gonna fix it, J?"

He looked up at you, a bit out of breath.

"I will bunny, just not yeT. The doc said I gotta prep you, remember? Don't wanna hurt my sweet girl now do I? Gotta hmm.. tr-eat her right.. Can I take these off?"

He asked so nicely, you couldn't say no. Anything to make this weird feeling go away, you'd do it.

You lifted your hips enough for Joker to slide your shorts and panties off in one fell swoop. Of course you didn't see him pocket said panties for safe keeping, but you quickly grew uncomfortable with the way he stared at your private parts.

Did it look weird? What if he didn't like it? You most certainly didn't. Any personal care was done as quickly as possible to avoid any unnecessary glimpses and you never looked at yourself the way Joker was right now.

He had yet to say anything but his unwavering gaze was starting to scare you. Did he have to stare for so long?

You whimpered and tried to cover your sex but Joker merely slapped your hand away.

"Stop looking at me..." You whined. That finally got Joker to meet your eye.

"Why not Y/n? Every part of you is sooo pretty. I wanna taste it..."

Before you could question the legitimacy behind his words, Joker licked your pussy with a guttural groan. The vibrations it left felt so good, you didn't realize you grabbed a hold of his hair. Joker didn't mind and quickly forgot about you being a virgin as he ate you out like a man on a mission.

"Soooooo sweet.. an' juicy.." He said in between licks.

Joker tuned out your startled babbles and pleas to savor the unique taste of your pussy. Your juices fell on his tongue like ambrosia and he lapped up every last drop that you steadily produced with gusto.

It was an honor to be the first to taste you and Joker pulled out everything in his bag of tricks to take you to the summit. Your first orgasm. F__k he wanted it all for himself.

He flicked his tongue over your clit and ever so gently slid his middle finger inside your cunt.

"Joker!" You screamed.

He chuckled as he eased it in up to his knuckle but met resistance. "Hush now baby doll. I gotta get ya loosened up to take something muchhh bigger than this..."

Something bigger? Your mind couldn't even fathom the thought. You writhed on his finger in a newfound agony until another sharp pain made you gasp.

Joker shushed you and kissed your clit as another finger slid its way into your tight hole. You were doing so well all things considered. Joker let endless praises fall from his lips in between kissing and sucking on your pussy. You seemed to unknowingly enjoy praise, if the fresh flow of juices from your slit were any indication. Joker twisted his wrist so his two fingers slid in deeper to scissor your hole wider. You were welcoming the foreign invasion but he could feel the restraint still lying dormant within you.

With every pump of his fingers, he made sure to stretch them just a bit deeper and a lot wider to further his goal. After a while, you relaxed around his two fingers and seemed to enjoy the new sensation he introduced to you.

He added a third finger even as you whimpered in protest.

"Shhh, you need thissss." Joker angled his fingers in a come hither motion to stroke your g spot directly. You jerked in shock and clamped down on his fingers.

"R-Right there, J..ahh yessss.."

Joker grinned when you practically melted to his touch. That 'itch' you kept going on about was finally being attended to. This is what you craved all along.

But something was happening. A pressure you never felt before was building and you knew it wasn't good.

"J-J..ok— ahh! I feel.. weird. I think I'm mmhph!! I don't wanna.." You cried out.

Joker saw your thighs twitching and grinned. He wondered when you'd get close. "Let it go Bunny. It's okay."

Joker's deep voice urged you on, where exactly— you were unsure of, but he was more knowledgeable than you here. Even though your brain protested the feeling, since the rising pressure resembled that of using the bathroom, you let your body's natural instinct take control.

"Listen to your body, Princess. She knows what's best."

You nodded at Joker's vague words and let the feeling build more and more. You felt hot all over and dizzy yet Joker would not stop until you crumbled completely under pressure.

He kept your thighs spread open and grinned like a certified madman as he sped up his fingers, pumping into your hole until it audibly gushed out. Almost there..

Something was happening within your body that you couldn't comprehend. Your ears were ringing and tears streamed down your face as a white hot coil snapped just underneath your navel.

You felt like passing out, it was so intense yet you moaned as waves of pleasure washed over you.

And Joker drank everything you gave. He watched you die and come back anew right before his eyes and it was such a sight to behold.

You came back shivering and weak but had enough strength to pose the question. "W-what just h-happened?"

Joker left a lasting kiss on your clit before he crawled up your body. It was flush with a sheen of sweat and desire and he showered every inch of it with affection on his travels.

"Did ya enjoy your first orgasm?" He mumbled on your shoulder. "I sure did."

"O-Orgasm? So... I didn't pee?"

Gosh you were so cute, he wanted to ruin you so bad. "Mmhm. NoT quite. You came so hard for meeee. And ya taste so good too, see?"

Joker kissed you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue, although he laughed when you jerked back in disgust.

"That's not sweet! More like tangy and salty! Eww.. and you like that?" You said while wiping your mouth clean. You were still convinced you relieved yourself, however the texture was more creamier than liquid that told you otherwise.

"I do. Very. Very. Much." To prove his point, he licked his fingers clean of you while you watched in intrigue. It got you thinking..

"Umm, w-what do you taste like J?"

Joker died then and there. You asked him so casually, was he corrupting you too fast? Of course not. You blinked owlishly at Joker waiting for a response. All he could do was chuckle under his breath.

"I'll let ya have a uhh, taste another day Bunny. Right now, f__k, I gotta.. I need to be inside this pussy. Are ya still itchy?"

You blinked twice before nodding your head.

Whatever Joker did just then was amazing but it wasn't enough to quell the unknown feeling between your legs. You still couldn't form the right words to explain the sensation though. Maybe you could ask Joker about it later. Right now, your fears were bubbling up to the surface as he towered over you.

"You'll be gentle right? It won't hurt?"

Joker sighed before kissing you soundly. He then reached a hand down to check your entrance. You were still wet and you moaned into Joker's mouth at the soothing circles he left on your sensitive bud. "Mmm it shouldn't, Bunny."

Joker stopped rubbing your clit so he could remove his shirt and pants. You watched in awe as his body was revealed to you. Sure you saw glimpses of it here and there but fully bare before you now, Joker was stunning.

How did you get so lucky?

"There's no need to be shy, Y/n." Joker cooed at you.

He noticed you were still hesitant and moved your hands to his chest for you. Seeing your hands on him.. it was a step in the right direction. He couldn't wait to see them wrapped around his cock.

Baby steps though. Today was your first time but if he played his cards right.... Why not go big rather than go home?

With Joker's permission, you caressed the hard planes of his chest and abs, wondering what the large indentation in his briefs was. The second your hand brushed against it, Joker hissed and grabbed your wrist.

Your eyes flickered up to his deep jade in awe.

"Easy there, bunny." He shivered. You tilted your head to the side in wonder until Joker let his cock spring out from his underwear. Your face was priceless.

"I take it, it's ya first time seeing one?"

You subconsciously clenched around nothing and nodded listlessly. Joker snorted and decided to let you explore uncharted territory. You know, get a little bit of hands-on training.

"Go on. Touch iT." Joker whispered in your ear as he guided your hands around his dick. He stifled his groans as your timid touch groped his shaft. J was soft yet hard at the same time and you paled at the thought of it in you.

If his fingers almost made you faint, what would this do? It felt powerful and ominous in your hands and oddly hot to the touch. Veins ran up the length of it and when you looked closer, a clear bead of liquid was oozing out the top. For some unknown reason you wanted to lick it up but second guessed yourself at the last minute.

"Is this.. going inside m-me? J, I don't think..."

"Yes it will." You wondered how Joker knew your exact thought, "I'll make it fit and you'll take every.. last.. inch. Under-stand?"

You jerked your head in a nod and it seemed to satisfy Joker since he nodded back. With that out of the way, Joker let you acquaint yourself with his dick until he grew impatient and batted your hands away. Any more stimuli and he would've cum prematurely.

He couldn't finish before the deflowering party got started. But he didn't calculate the way you were driving him nuts.

"Look at me Y/n. That, uhh, ache you have right here." Joker rubbed your womb affectionately before tipping your chin up with his fingers.

You were on your knees before him, patiently waiting for anything he would give.

"Your mind is still unsure but your body... mmmm, your body knows what it wants. Keep listening to your body, mkay? It's gonna be reallllly scary, and I. Won't. Stop. either, but you have to trust me bunny. Trust that I'm doing this to.. make you feel good. I'm going to ruin your pussy and there's nothing you can do about iT."

Your bottom lip trembled in fear but you nodded at Joker. He wouldn't deliberately hurt you.. right?

"O-Okay.. I trust you." Joker's smile was absolutely feral hearing you surrender to him so easily. You'd regret that later.

"That'sss my sweet girl. So! You're all wet and horny and need to be filled? So achy and needy? I'll help ya.."

Out of the blue Joker pushed you down on the bed and you yelped at the sudden shift in the air. "J? What're.."

"ShuT. Up. You deserve someone who will treat ya right. Mmm, should've picked someone else then. Lemme break you Princess, open up for me."

You didn't like where this was going but Joker did say to trust him. It was going to be scary but you had to trust him. Didn't mean you had to like it. You didn't want him breaking anything of yours!

Before you could turn your head away, Joker already grabbed a hold of it.

"Look at me! I said... spread your legs slut."

If Joker didn't see your pussy glistening with cum, he would have dialed things back but surprise surprise, his little virgin liked being dominated. You liked his meaner side even if your brain couldn't wrap itself around the idea. Joker was over the moon discovering your kinks way before you did.

He watched in glee as you parted your thighs for him. Your pretty folds were glistening like the delicate flower it was. Joker repeatedly slapped his dick on your puffy lips and you jumped in shock with each unexpected smack.

Even if you could squirm away, Joker would just drag you back. With one hand keeping your face towards him, he used the other to prod his cock in your slick juices.

You were so wet, he almost slipped inside with no resistance. He let you coat his dick completely and hissed at the warmth beckoning him in.

"Don't... look... away. Here we go. Ahh s__t, oh shhh shh Y/n, I know. I-I know it hurts and that.. Heh, that's just the tip.."

You were a panting mess. It felt like you were being split apart and he barely had the tip inside? This wasn't what you signed up for! "Joker, wait!!"

He muffled your cries with a kiss and bullied his way deeper inside of your tight walls, one agonizing inch at a time. You clawed at his forearm that was holding your face and wept at the sting his cock left behind.

It wasn't supposed to hurt yet it felt good at the same time. You couldn't decide which sensation overpowered the other, but right when you thought you couldn't take anymore, Joker bottomed out inside of you— groaning at your walls gripping him tight as you sobbed uncontrollably around him.

"Ahhh! Please, Joker no more!" You begged. Joker settled in within you, laughing.

"Whaddya mean, Bunny? That's it! Good job for taking me soooo well. You ahh, took it a-all on the first try. Breathe doll. Ya gotta breathe."

Joker groaned as you turned a little blue in the face. His cock was already making you go stupid and he had yet to start thrusting.

He wanted to tease you about it but he wasn't any better as your gummy walls choked the life out of his dick. You felt absolutely sinful wrapped around him. He felt lightheaded from the intense heat your body enveloped him in.

"How does it f-feel to not be a.. mmm.. virgin anymore?"

"F-Full..." You wheezed out.

"Yeah? What if I ahh, take it away?" Joker pulled out, till nothing but the aching tip remained and you cried out, begging him to come back. "I knew it, such a greedy little slut... but today I'll be generous. Here you go."

He thrust into you sharply, making you arch your back and disrupt the grip he had on your face. "Ohh you like it rough, doll?"

Joker grabbed your hips instead and set his knees into the bed. Each word was drilled into your pussy with a powerful, breathtaking thrust. "Good. To. Know."

You couldn't think straight let alone form words from the assault. All that could escape your lips was Joker's shortened name and pornagraphic moans.

You were tossing your head side to side and drooling up a storm. Joker thought it was the prettiest thing in the world. You were a natural.

"And you thoughT you wouldn't be good enough, HA! You're perfect for meeee.. I should've taken you months ago, f__k." Joker didn't care if he was talking too much, you were proving to be too much for him to handle.

Between your tight pussy suffocating his cock, to your breast bouncing in his face, Joker didn't know where to focus his attention.

That is, until you made the decision for him.

You never followed his instructions. He didn't care how hard it was to focus, he wanted to see the moment your brain shut down and floated away. How could he do that if you closed your eyes?

Joker growled and picked up the pace but not before squeezing your throat. "What.. did I tell you? Don't. Look. Away."

He wasn't expecting you to let out an airy giggle in response. You would be his undoing. Smiling as he choked you? It was like you were made for him.

Joker groaned and lost himself, giving it his all to make you feel good. This was your first time after all. He would stop at nothing to make it perfect.

You weren't complaining as you struggled to breathe in between the brutal pace Joker set and with his hand wrapped tightly around your throat.

A while ago, the initial pain of his cock entering your hole morphed into mind numbing pleasure. Now you understood the hype behind sex. Why did your parents and other adults growing up censor this from you?

It was indescribable the way Joker made you feel. You were in fact seeing stars with each cant of his hips. Had you known sex could feel this good sooner, you couldn't even wrap your head around the possibilities your teenage self could have created.

"nny? Bunny? Come back to meeeee. There ya are! Heh, thought I squeezed too tight."

You blinked back the fog to notice Joker had come to a stop inside of you and was doting on you with a slight look of concern in his eyes. It was gone by the time you cleared your throat.

He let go of it during your brief stint in headspace when he saw your eyes roll back.

There was a fine line between breath play and choking. Joker wasn't about to go too far, especially since this was your first time.

He wanted this to be memorable, not kill you. So against his wishes, he stopped to check on you when you became unresponsive.

You were breathing normally again (albeit your eyes were still glazed over) but he proposed a new idea anyway. "Wanna try a different position?"

You stretched your arms out for Joker to grab onto with a meek nod. He chuckled at your innocence on full display.

His sweet girl was a pillow Princess through and through.

Too bad he wanted to corrupt that and everything else about you. You would be a ravenous minx by the end of his teachings, that much he was certain of.

Joker sighed as he left your warmth and drummed up a good position in his head. There were so many he wanted to try with you but one in particular made him grin deviously.

You caught sight of it and gulped down your fear. "J... please be.."

"Nothing about me is gentle doll. Remember thaT. Now, what's a sweet little thing like you owning a big mirror like this hmmm?"

Joker scooped you up from the bed and slammed you face first into the floor length mirror that you had set up in the room.

He loved seeing your shock reflect through the mirror.

"Do ya use it to touch yourself? Can't blame ya if you do. I'd watch this body too.." He fondled your hips and squeezed your breasts as you shook your head in denial.

You watched yourself in the mirror being manhandled at a loss for words.

"N-No! It's not l-like that!" You cried out when Joker yanked your hair back in his strong grip. All you could do was grip the mirror's frame, less you lose your balance.

Joker had you standing on your tippy toes with your head tilted all the way back in order to stare up into his eyes.

"Open your mouth." He ordered.

You did without hesitation but froze when Joker spat right onto your tongue.

"Ahht ahht, swallow. Now." He growled. He didn't care if it was yucky to you, it asserted his dominance over you and he grinned when you teared up but swallowed on command.

He noticed your legs rubbing against each other and knew subconsciously you loved it. That innocent mind of yours was holding you back however.

"It's always the shy ones." Joker chuckled under his breath. In an instant he used your hair to guide you back onto his dick. Your breath was stolen right from you by the unexpected invasion.

"Oh bunnyyyy, you got tighter." He groaned.

He rammed his cock into you at a bruising pace and yanked your hair whenever you tried to look away. Your only option was to lean forward onto the cool mirror and watch as J pounded into you from behind on its surface.

The sight of your nude body being taken in such a way was embarrassing— all flushed and slack jawed, but Joker was right there behind you, whispering how beautiful you were and how lucky he was to take your v card.

Whatever that meant.

What you did know was that Joker was thrusting into you harder than ever and that wondrous feeling from before was fast approaching again. You were unsure how Joker managed to fit his length inside of you yet there was a noticeable bulge in your stomach that you couldn't keep your eyes off of.

Joker followed your gaze through the mirror and relocated one of his hands to rub against it during each snap of his hips. And when he pressed down on it? You sang praises to his name.

"You.. really are stuffed.. fuuc—full of me huh, baby doll? G-Gooood, that's good." He smiled into your skin and picked up the pace, like he wasn't already rattling the mirror and artwork against the wall with every rough thrust.

You were swaying on your feet from the pleasure and it grew the moment Joker rubbed erratic circles on your clit.

You couldn't handle the added stimuli and tried moving his hand away because this time it really felt like you were..

Your undoing completely blindsided you; it was so intense. Your legs shook like a newborn's and you almost fell if not for Joker catching you at the last minute. He was in high spirits, cooing in your ear.

"D__n, Y/n! Goood girl, C'mon.. breathe for me Bunny.. yeah. That was.. heh somethin' else wasn't it? Shhh shhhh easy now.." He ignored the wet mirror dripping with your cum to help you down onto the plush rug at your feet.

You were twitching and pushing Joker away but he fought back and flipped you onto your stomach.

Your legs were still dripping wet from squirting, so your pussy accepted Joker back inside no issue.

That didn't mean your brain was so welcoming. "J.. too much, I-I can't!"

He just positioned your hips into a painful looking arch and drilled your pussy like no tomorrow.

"I. Don't. Care. Bunny. Ahh, you... ohh, youuuu got to cum twice now, selfish little whore. N-Now it's my turn and I'm gonna.. use ya.. like the dirty slut we both know ya are!"

He threw his head back as he slammed your hips back to take his dick over and over. The way your skin rippled with each thrust, the echo of wet skin on skin, your pathetic cries floating in the air; Joker loved every detail.

A quick glance to his right gave him the perfect view of your back arching in the mirror and your tear stained face smushed into the rug.

You were taking his cock with a blissed out smile on your face. Joker truly was a lucky man. Your first time and you were already showing signs of being a perfect cock-slut.

What more could he ask for in a partner?

He'd love exposing you to his most kinkiest desires and treating his touch starved Princess to all of the pleasures known to mankind. By the way your weeping pussy was still throwing it back on him and squeezing his dick so tight, physically you were still in the game.

A shame your mind couldn't keep up.

He laughed at the broken pleas spilling from your lips. Your mind was still a virgin but your body never truly was. This body of yours was begging for his cum.

And he would deliver.

Joker choked on a moan as his release creeped up on him. His hips lost their rhythm and became more primal in the desperate need to cum. Joker reached down and grabbed ahold of your hair to twist your face towards him.

"Now this... ohh shi— tt-this is the ahh, most important part Bunny. Good.. gooood girls get rewarded. T-They get cum deeeeep in their greedy little wombs. You.. you want thaT? You want my cum?" He asked.

You didn't understand a single word but nodded aways. "Yes J, please!"

Joker was too close to mock your eagerness. He was spouting nonsense himself; his head was so mushy.

"I'm gunna give it to ya. You've been such a good little bunny. This'll make ya feel sooo much better, so full n' complete. All m-mine.. you'll take it yeah? Won't you, Y/n?"

Joker had more to say but two thrusts later, he erupted in your pussy, painting it white with no end in sight.

Joker's release triggered one last orgasm from you as his hot cum bathed your walls and sent you down a spiral.

You collapsed and Joker's weight kept you pressed to the floor as he continued to rock his hips into you, unable to stop himself. Both of you struggled to catch a breath but Joker regained his senses first and rolled over onto his side, dragging you with him.

Naturally he was the big spoon and showered you with much needed affection.

You were shivering with aftershocks with a faraway expression on your face. He hummed as he softened inside you and waited until he was coherent enough to check on you.

"Y/n?" He brushed a lock of hair off your shoulder. "You uhhh alright?" Joker turned you around and you clung to him instantly.

He rubbed your back and petted your hair, a complete 180 of the dominant man rearranging your guts just moments prior.

"I wasn't too rough, no? If ya didn't li-ke it or.. uhh, we can try again? More gentler—-"

You cut him off with a kiss.

Joker looked down at you in shock. Your beautiful face was wet with tears but your eyes... those sweet e/c shined so brightly at him in adoration.

"It was p-perfect, J. T-Thank you." You kissed him again and collapsed into his arms when your strength suddenly failed you.

You landed on his chest and left kisses where you could reach. They were weak brushes of your lips, but Joker didn't mind. At least you were okay.

"Mmm, err don't thanK me just yet doll. C'mere." He tipped your head back so the two of you could lock eyes.

"This... was tame compared to what I'll do to ya next time."

Your eyes widened. "N-Next time?"

Joker snickered at your innocent wonder and nodded. Somethings just wouldn't change he guessed.

"Mmhm. There's so much more to learn Y/n.." He tucked a curl of hair behind your ear. You were so pretty in your afterglow, he couldn't even focus on what he was saying.

Joker didn't know how long he was gonna lay low with the authorities but he knew he was staying here with you for a very, very long time.

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spookychick78 · 11 months

Text

OG Michael Myers One Shot

A little continuation of the parking garage one shot as requested by the lovely @slasherhoe87 🖤🔪

also, its becoming glaringly obvious how much of a Myers simp I am with how much shit I’ve written about this man.

OG!Michael Myers X AFAB!Reader

Warnings: (Y’all knew this was coming) NSFW, Knife play, blood play, choking

Word Count: 3,697

In the following weeks, (Y/n) couldn't stop thinking of the man in the mask. She found herself searching for him around every corner, down every alley way and through every window. It hadn't taken her long to put it together that whoever he was had been the one causing that undeniable feeling of being watched, but why? He had left her with so many questions and now close to a month since it had happened, she wondered if she would ever get answers.

She put her car in park and exited into the cool night air. The parking garage that had so often than not made her uneasy had begun to excite her every time she came home. Though, that night her excitement had started to fade. He was never there and honestly, she wondered if maybe he had been a figment of her imagination after all. She hurried towards the little room with the elevators and as she opened the door she turned and gave the empty lot one more lingering glance. Nothing.

Michael scoffed as he watched her. She wasn't quite as adept as he was at finding her obsession, though he found her efforts amusing. How funny it was that he had become her obsession, he thought to himself. He took note of her constantly wandering eyes that almost always fell in his direction, unaware that he was indeed there, hidden in the shadows. She had been close several times, but it had become a game to him and one Michael was inevitably better at than she was. He had more patience. Usually. However, it was wearing thin. He too hadn't been able to forget the night he had shown himself to her. It had undoubtedly been a mistake to touch her. The feeling of her skin against his hand, though the exchange was mere seconds, had ignited a desire within him he didn't know he was capable of possessing. Michael couldn't deny himself much longer, he wanted to know her and more than just by the surface level knowledge he'd managed to obtain by just watching. Observing from a distance no longer satisfied him, he wanted more. He wondered if she would be frightened when she finally found what she was looking for. Part of him hoped she would be, fear had looked so delicious on her and he hadn't even been the one to cause it, not entirely. He wanted that pleasure, but he wouldn't end her life. Perhaps he would bring her to the brink of death or perhaps he'd let those carnal thoughts guide him elsewhere. He had never given into them before, he wasn't even sure he had ever had them until he saw her. It was maddening not to know what exactly it was about her that had lured him in so completely. Maybe it was how petite she was in comparison to him, Michael did enjoy feeling larger than life. He knew if he was to wrap his hands around her throat they would all but engulf her. His frame pressed against her's could minimize her being so entirely that she would practically disappear from existence within his arms. Or maybe it was the challenge that excited him to the point of discomfort within his coveralls. He would have to exercise restraint like he never had before in order for her to survive being so entangled with him, because in reality he could end her life in seconds if he didn't. Her fate and possible demise would be in his hands the moment they met her skin once more. The entirety of their proverbial 'moon dance' would cascade along that ever thinning line between life and death. He wondered if she had any idea of the fire she was playing with, head canted to the side as he watched her eyes scan the empty garage in search of him once again.

She let out a frustrated sigh and let the door swing shut behind her. She pressed the button for the elevator, just once this time. She intended to waste as much time as humanly possible just in case he appeared. The doors began to separate, filling the room with their high pitched squeaking and she decided to give up on her search for the night. She slipped inside the cabin and reluctantly pressed the button for her floor. She leaned her back against the wall as she watched the doors close in on each other. Before each end could meet, they creaked to a halt. A hand had come between them, it retracted once the doors began to move outward. They were slower than ever as they reopened and she impatiently craned her neck to catch a glimpse of whom she would be sharing the brief ride upwards with, but found no one was there. She furrowed her brows and took a step forward. Before she could look out the doors, she was pushed back against the wall with a hand around her throat. After the initial shock had worn off, she looked up to see the white mask with the blackest holes looking down on her once again. He held her in place as the doors squeaked shut. After he was certain they were closed, he released his grip on her. (Y/n)'s chest heaved up and down as she struggled to catch the breath he'd knocked out of her.

"It's you," she panted.

She wasn't quite sure if it was fear or unbridled excitement she was feeling, but she surmised it was a dangerous, possibly deadly combination of the two that made her quickly reach her hand past him and lock the elevator. She quickly drew her arm back in and pressed herself back against the wall.

Michael slowly turned his head to see what she had done, moderately impressed by the confidence she had just displayed by assuming he wouldn't kill her. He returned his gaze to her and smirked behind his mask when he saw that subtle hint of fear hidden within her eyes. So she wasn't totally confident, but curious enough to trust him. He would have reminded her that it was curiosity that killed the cat, but he wasn't going to grant her the pleasure of hearing his voice, yet. She would have to be the one to end the silence between them if she had the courage to do so.

She had so many questions, but each of them seemed so nonsensical given the fact that he had never uttered a single word to her. She was almost certain he wouldn't answer any of them, but she had to say something. After waiting so long for this moment, it only seemed wrong to waste it.

"Who," she started, but stopped and rethought the first words she wanted to say, "why did you save me from that man? Why did you kill him but not me?"

Michael tilted his head. Would she have preferred he hadn't? It wasn't necessarily that he had saved her, he wasn't even sure that was the right word. Saving her for himself maybe, that would have been a better way to describe it. Someone had merely threatened to take her before he could and Michael wasn't one to share. She would soon learn that, if he hadn't made it clear enough for her before, he was about to. She waited so patiently for a response, her (e/c) eyes seemingly trying to decipher his features behind the mask without physically removing it. Her curiosity made her appear so innocent as she gazed up at him, inadvertently fueling his desire to take that innocence for himself. Though he had to admit, he found it somewhat endearing that she was so entranced by him she didn't even realize the position she could have possibly put herself in, were he not so obsessed with her in his own regard. He brought his hand up to her cheek as he had done before, but this time he let his fingertips explore the softness of her skin. She was truly delicate, he thought to himself as he let them wander down to her lips. She parted them for him. He raised his eyebrows behind his mask as he traced her bottom lip, just barely allowing himself inside her mouth, and felt moisture coat the top of his fingers. He brought his hand up to study his own skin that had been wet by her, the sight of that alone brought an urge to taste her to the surface.

"Who are you?" She asked as she watched his silent observation.

His eyes shot back to her. She had asked that once before, only now he was more willing to oblige her with an answer, to some degree. It was purely based on his own desire, but it might satisfy her questions for the time being. He brought both hands to the back of his mask and slowly peeled the rubber off of himself. He kept his head down and observed what was for the majority of the world his face in his own hands, but for her and only her, he would show himself as he truly was. He knelt down and gently set it aside before towering above her again. As he lifted his head, he told himself he was only doing it because he needed to if he was going to do what he was about to do, that was all. Though even Michael knew there was a part of him that felt she was deserving, even if he couldn't explain why.

(Y/n)'s face started to heat up when she realized the man behind the mask was undoubtedly handsome. He was much younger than she had expected he would be, it seemed he wasn't far off from her age. He had dark curls that framed his near perfectly structured face, the only imperfection being the scar that ran through one of his eyes. His jaw was clenched as though he was somewhat nervous under her gaze, but that subtle movement of his muscles accentuated his prominent jawline further. His brows were knit together in an almost disapproving way over his expressionless eyes, one blue, one milky white and his mouth kept tightly shut as she studied him. Each feature had such a unique and unexplainable draw that she found herself wanting to touch him, to further inspect the ever so silent and stoic man before her. Her hand wandered up, but before she could touch him, he flinched and those disapproving brows furrowed tighter than before. She held her hand in place midair as she watched him contemplate the interaction. He blinked his eyes as he studied her hand, then turned his gaze to meet her's, granting her passage to continue. She slowly reached forward and let her fingertips touch his cheek first, then steadily rested her palm over him to hold the side of his face in her hand. His eyes flickered shut and his brows relaxed at the strange new sensation. She was warm against his cool skin and he found himself resting in her touch, his head fell slightly to the side to give in further. She watched, fascinated by the way he seemed to relish in the minimal contact as if he had been starved a lifetime for it. He finally opened his eyes and took her hand in his to bring it to his lips. He didn't kiss her fingers, he simply brushed them over his skin, unsure of what exactly it was he wanted to do. Her skin was so soft.

"Won't you tell me your name?" She said softly.

Needy, he thought to himself as he began to kiss her fingers. He told himself he'd only tell her so he could hear how it sounded coming from her mouth.

"Michael," he whispered back.

"Michael," she repeated gently.

It sounded better than he'd expected in her breathy, distracted tone and it fanned those flames she'd lit within him further. Her fingers were no longer satisfying him, he needed to explore her further. He wanted her to say his name again against his lips. He dropped her hand and reached both of his forward to cup her face as he pressed his body against her's and engulfed her lips in a kiss so hungry it made her knees weak. As she melted into it she couldn't help but notice the desperation he had for her pressed up against the top of her thigh. She wasn't sure how much he would allow her to do, but as if he had read her mind, he took her arms and draped them over his shoulders in one swift movement before his hands returned to her face. She took some liberty and tangled her fingers in the curls that hung just above the back of his neck. As she tugged on his hair, Michael pressed harder against her and paid no mind to the moan that escaped his lips. He had been absolutely right, restraining himself was going to be a challenge, one more difficult than he'd expected. He wanted so badly to hear her say his name again, but this time he wanted her to cry it out. He needed to regain some control, because she had more than he realized she would with the way her fingers sent chills down his spine every time she pulled on his locks. Then she shifted against him, rubbing him so that it made him ache in such a devastatingly good way. His hand instinctively flew to her throat and wrapped itself around it in a tight embrace. She let out a gasp and he smirked against her kiss, it was the power shift he needed to know he was still in control no matter what she did or what he wanted her to do to him. He broke away from her, hand still tightly wound around her neck to keep her in place against the wall. He watched a smiled spread across her face as he struggled to catch his uneven breath. He wasn't sure what he liked more, to see her frightened or to see her look so proud of what she was doing to him. Her pride reignited that challenge he so adored, it made him want to force her to unravel, to bring her to the brink of death, but in a different way. He would make her beg for mercy and after he was done with her, she would beg for more. A smile of his own spread across his face as he reached his free hand into his pocket to retrieve his knife. When he revealed it to her he delighted in the way her smile fell and fear flickered in her eyes. He brought it down to the bottom of her dress and removed his hand from her throat to pull the material taut before he took the blade and sliced the fabric upwards. The sound of it ripping bounced off of the elevator's walls and combined with her accelerated breath, Michael was entranced. He finally reached the top and let the knife continue it's ascent upwards until the blade rested underneath her chin. She craned her neck up with it and looked at him with that same hint of excitement he'd seen in her when he first entered. She watched his grip tighten on the knife's handle until his knuckles turned pale as if he was fighting the urge to plunge it into her. She hesitantly brought her hands up to his and guided the knife to the side of her neck. If he was going to kill her he would have by now and by this point she was just as eager as he was to continue this dance, so her next words came perhaps a little too easy.

"I trust you, Michael," she breathed as she guided his knife down the side of her neck.

His was captivated by the sight of her blood dripping out from under his blade and down to her shoulder. His pupils became overblown as his desire reached its boiling point. He cast the knife aside and grabbed her by her shoulders to flip her around. He ripped her dress from her body and quickly did away with the rest of the cloth so that no part of her was hidden. He grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulled her back against him and craned her neck back so he could drag his tongue up towards the cut she had allowed him to give her. He collected her blood in his mouth then focused his attention on the wound, sucking with such brutality she could already feel the bruise he would leave forming under his lips. Once he had cleaned her with his tongue, he pushed her forward so that her cheek was pressed against the wall. The sound of his zipper being pulled down filled her ears and in turn, filled her with such a buzzing excitement she could barely wait the few seconds it took for him to free himself. Finally, she felt him line himself up at her entrance and without warning, he invaded her with one firm thrust that shook her to her core. Pain intermingled with a burning and intense pleasure unlike any she had felt before. He hung his head over her shoulder and the sound of his uneven breath filled her ear as he began to set a brutal and unforgiving pace. She struggled to keep her balance as he rocked into her and he seemed to take note. He wrapped an arm around her and rested his other hand against the wall, steadying the both of them as he continued his pursuit to leave her in shambles. At the same time, he himself was overwhelmed by the pleasure her tightly wound body was granting him. Sensations crept upwards from where their bodies met and into his core, tangling together inside of him like knots on the verge of snapping. His hand against the wall balled into a fist, tightening in tandem with those knots as he pushed himself inside of her with more force than before. Her head fell back against him and a cry ripped from her throat, along with a slew of praises. It was then he got what he wanted.

"Michael," she cried out as her face contorted into an expression that could only be described as pained bliss.

He was almost too much for her to take, his size combined with the intensity of his movements made her burn in a way she hadn't before. That searing sensation made her shake in his grip as he pummeled the sweet spot nestled deep inside of her. She desperately needed something to cling to as she neared the edge. She wasn't sure her legs would hold. Her hand flew back in search of his shoulder, but she barely had a sense of direction at that point.

"Michael," she keened once more as she clutched at the blue cloth of his coveralls tightly.

Without warning, he ceased his movements and removed himself from her, causing her to whine from the sudden empty feeling he'd so cruelly left her with. He flipped her around and swiftly hoisted her up so her legs could wrap around his waist. He lowered her back onto him and once he was certain she wouldn't fall, he let his hands find the back of her head so he could force her lips to his again. His fingers tangled in her hair as he attempted to keep her lips on his, but at the pace he was going, it was anything but neat. Still, she returned his sloppy kisses with the utmost enthusiasm as she felt herself approaching her climax. She reached behind her head and guided his hand in between their bodies to a spot he hadn't yet discovered. She placed his calloused fingers over her clit and guided them in little circles. It didn't take long for him to get the hang of it, but still, he followed her lead. With each circle their fingers drew together he could feel her body tightening around him more so than he thought possible. Before long, she broke their kiss and he watched her head fall back, mouth agape as her body fluttered around him. Somewhere between the way she looked, the sound of his name falling from her lips like a prayer and the trembling of her body around his, Michael came completely and utterly undone. His head fell into the crevice between her shoulder and neck as his body all but collapsed into her. It was a concerted effort to maintain his hold on her, but he did and he made sure his grip was tight around her thighs.

"(Y/n)," she heard him breath into her ear before he spilled into her.

She didn't even stop to think about the fact that she hadn't once told him her name, all she could focus on was the way his breath felt on her skin, the burn of fresh bruises on her thighs and how wonderful it felt to have been undeniably marked by him. Michael would never admit it out loud, but in a way, she had claimed him for her own as well. Though his movements had ceased, he didn't want to leave her warmth. He breathed in her scent and pressed his lips to her shoulder as she draped her arms around his neck. There was no doubt she was in shambles, just as he had intended, but he feared he was in a far worse state than he had been in before. When he lifted his head up to look at her once more, that only worsened it. Her face was flushed, her hair disheveled and her eyes were glassy as she smiled lazily at him. He felt his chest tighten in a strange way as she leaned in to press a chaste kiss to his lips, gentle as rain. Obsessed was now an understatement.

#Michael Myers #michael my beloved #michael audrey myers #michael myers x reader #michael myers smut #og michael myers #slasher #slasher smut #slasher fandom #slasher x reader #HORROR SMUT #horror fiction #slasher fucker #my husband

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undiscovered-horizon · 11 months

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Sparring - Nikolai Lantsov x Reader

[suggestive themes, nothing explicit + vulgar language + awful descriptions of fight scenes]

SUMMARY: To train and relieve some of the tension, First Army soldiers organize sparring matches. When Nikolai decides to take part in the tradition, the infantry throws their best at him. Who knew that a king can be such an inappropriate flirt?

WORDCOUNT: ~ 2.6k

A/N: I'm replaying Mass Effect (for the millionth time) and that one conversation with Garrus has so much potential.

>>Grishaverse-inspired playlist<<

Everyone’s been in an awful mood for the past couple of days. Shoving and bad-mouthing always happened but rarely to this extent. A mere misstep could end with a broken nose and fractured ribs. Something is stirring like a maddening poison hanging in the air. There’s only so much time until frustrated scowls turn into a friendly-fire bloodbath.

But the First Army, or rather Dominik Vertov himself, is ready for such instances. For itchy fists the best remedy is to give in to the violent urges, although not without certain rules being put in place first, rendering the name “Lawless Night” more of a pseudonym rather than a visualization of what takes place. No one ever misses the sparring matches. Even those unable to fight, wounded and sick, find some way to be part of the tradition. Their friends would often help them stand up for the entirety of the violent matches.

The one thing that is different about tonight is the presence of the king. If Nikolai just stood somewhere to the side or even spent the night elsewhere, pretending that he’s oblivious to the custom, the soldiers would still feel unsure about indulging in this ‘bonding activity’. The Lantsov boy, to the dread of the infantry, decided to take part in the “Lawless Night”. As he said it himself: he’s their brother in arms. That means, he should be allowed to be involved in the sparring but on the other hand - who in their right mind would try to tell the king he can’t?

For the longest time, Vertov’s been against that. He appreciates Nikolai presenting himself as someone relatable - a man and a soldier before a king - but getting thrown into the mud by some roach is a little too far. As much as befriending soldiers on a personal level increases the army’s morale, seeing their king and leader losing to one of them would cause collective depression and should Kirigan strike them, the Ravkans will simply give their land away to him.

But Vertov also knows Nikolai a little too well and so after he had voiced his doubts, he knew there’s not much else to be done - the Lantsov boy will do whatever he pleases. As always.

“So,” Dominik sighs in defeat, only partially prepared for what he will have to witness, “Who wants to face king Nikolai?”

The crowd falls silent but only for a second. Energetic whispering erupts between soldiers, necks crane in search of someone particular - there is but one person in the infantry that’s reckless enough to actually get into fisticuffs with a nobleman and not spare him.

Your friends begin nudging you, pushing you out of the crowd. There’s no point in lying that you’re surprised by the collective search for the one corporal who’s yet to lose a sparring match.

A sigh leaves your lips but your friends recognize that it’s not irritation - it’s compliance. Your raise a fist over your head. “I will!”

The soldiers surrounding you take a step back, letting you comfortably enter the marked arena. Wolf whistles cut through the night air. “Зайка!” someone yells from the crowd.

With a scoff, you shout back: “Иди на хуй!”

Rumbling laughter erupts from the infantrymen. They’re a ‘tough love’ kind of bunch but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Some say “there’s no love like soldiers’ hate” and you find it hard to disagree with the sentiment.

Dominik chuckles to himself. He pats Nikolai on his shoulder before leaning in and whispering:

“Good luck winning with that one.”

Lantsov looks at his friend with pretend offence. “That’s an astounding lack of faith in me on your part.”

“See that behemoth with a hare lip?” Dominik nods his head towards the soldiers standing in a half-circle. The man in question is hard to miss: he towers over the others by at least a head, a deep scar running across his face. “He sparred her once. The fight ended with a draw when both of them collapsed, too tired to continue. You may have the reach and strength but she has speed and flexibility.”

But Nikolai is not looking at the so-called behemoth. Instead, he’s watching you from afar as you’re tightly wrapping bandages around your knuckles and wrist. “And here I thought the strategy was to distract me with her face,” he slowly says in an inattentive voice. Tactic or not, it seems to be working.

Dominik nudges Nikolai and the king, willingly demoted for this one evening, enters the circle marked by bags of sand meant for floods. He feels the nervous and thrilled stares following him but he enjoys that. Even overlooking the attention aspect of his decision to mingle with the little people, for a moment he can pretend that he’s back in the army or sailing the seas as Sturmhond; for one evening, he can drop the noble weight from his shoulders.

The cold, night air is tugging on your cotton shirt. In warmer months you’d be standing inside the circle without it but perhaps it’s better that summer is still long weeks away - meeting the king for the first time half-naked just doesn’t sound like great idea in any way, shape or form. There is courage, even stupid bravery that brought you into the army, but that would just be distasteful.

Up close you’re even prettier than he previously thought. You’re looking at him with a cocky half-smile, silently challenging Nikolai to do his worst, maybe even expecting him to lose after the first round. The fire from the torches placed around the make-shift arena reflect inside your eyes, painting you more of a temptress or a demon rather than a corporal.

"I won't go easy on you, moy tsar,” you warn him.

Although it’s a word of caution, Nikolai seems to read it as encouragement.

"I'm counting on that.” He scrunches his nose jokingly. “I like it a little rough."

His words make you scoff but you find yourself thoroughly amused with him. Despite his noble titles, regal clothing and head-spinning responsibilities, there’s a refreshing hint of dreariness to him - brass that balances out marble and gold.

Sergei, the seargent making sure that all sparrs are kept civil, raises the flag, although it should be noted that ‘the flag’ is an old shirt tied to a stick. It’s a sign to prepare for the upcoming fight, share pleasantries with the opponent and fix the protective wrapping around your hands.

Despite Nikolai being physically well-built, you don’t expect much from him. You’ve heard that he had served in the army but his noble aura makes you put your guard down - after all, what good in a fight could a spoiled prince be? You can give a baby a knife but that won’t make it a soldier.

“May the best one win,” you say shaking his hand.

Nikolai winks at you. “Oh, I will.”

Both of you turn around and walk a few steps away. You look at your friends, crouched right at the border of the circle and shaking their fists in an encouraging gesture. Whether you win or lose, they’re still going to make fun of you at breakfast, critisizing all the chances you didn’t take. After all those years of facing death by their side, you’ve learned to see unimaganble amount of love in their teasing and jests - each mistake you’re aware of increases your chance of survival in the battlefield. And that, in turn, makes retirement with them a little more probable.

As a good luck charm, you blow softly on your clenched fists. Sergei’s voice resounds in your head: “Tooth and nail, tie a noose around your fate.” He never did disclose that but being a rather simple man, you’ve just assumed he read that quote in a book rather than coming up with it on his own. In any event, it always works, getting you into the ‘die kicking and screaming’ mindset. Not that you’re expecting anyone to actually pass on tonight. No, the “Lawless Night” is about relentless survival.

You turn around to face Nikolai standing just a few meters away from you. Both of you are fixed on Sergei and his provisory flag. The sergeant looks between you, checking whether your ready. Then, he swings the stick downwards and deafening cheers immediately fill your ears. Your eyes study Nikolai’s posture - his guard is high and knees are bent but not in the way one would expect from a soldier. He remembers his training, although visibly lacks practice.

He does the first move, throwing a half-hearted punch that you know is more of a reconnaissance than an honest strike. You only lean to the side. From then on, the offence only gets more bitter.

Left hook. Knee kick. Duck. Low punch on the ribs. Grabbing wrist and hitting the underarm. Right hook. Straight punch. Lean to the side. Slide under his swinging arm. Back kick. Fall. A handful of dirt thrown in the king’s face.

The crowd roars. Sergei rings a cowbell - round break.

Nikolai spits out soil between coughs and you can’t help the cocky smile creeping back unto your face. He looks at you with a hint of both amusement and disbelief in his eyes. Soon, his own grin is matching yours - he just got a mouthful of dirt from some girl and he’s liking it.

“A dirty trick,” he says in awe.

You only give him a shrug of faux innocence. “What can I say, I’m a dirty girl.”

The king laughs in response. This is something he’s definitely missed about being in the army. Or, perhaps, he’s enjoying this moment of tame humiliation because it’s coming from you.

Sergei lifts his flag once more but this time around he’s not waiting for you to create proper distance between each other. Nikolai is within your arms’ reach. That self-assured expression he wears is simply begging you to push some boundaries.

“Whenever you’re ready, батюшка,” you coax him.

His eyes widen in surprise. “Батюшка?” he repeats with amusement. It’s obvious he likes your choice of words. “Will you kneel for me?”

You shrug, giving him a lopsided grin. “If you ask nicely.”

The sergeant once again drops the flag and the night air fills with cheers even louder and livelier than before.

“I’m begging,” Nikolai answers you before pulling the first punch.

But you’re swift and quickly push his arm away. Then, he bends slightly, directing his fist at your ribs but you manage to kick his exposed thigh. Lantsov loses his balance for a second. His arm swings at your head. Ducking, you get the perfect angle to punch his abdomen. Grunt.

Nikolai suddenly recalls Dominik’s words - he should go hard rather than fast. Before you’re able to get out of his way, he lunges at you, pinning you to the ground. The sudden impact renders you breathless for a moment, giving Nikolai a chance to settle on top of your pelvis.

He grabs a fistful of your shirt. “Lovely view, don’t you think?”

A strangely exciting tension appears in your abdomen, something you’ve never felt for a man of his kind. The arousal, however, is quickly dismissed - he’s a king, you’re corporal.

You loop your leg around his arm and straighten your knee, forcing his head away. With all the power you can gather, you punch his ribs. Nikolai grunts again, rolling off of you.

Cowbell resounds once again.

Panting, you get up from the ground. To be honest, you’re quite surprised that he’s not completely useless in combat. You ran your hand up and down your back, still feeling the impact with the cold, hard ground on your spine. He’s got some strength, you have to give him that.

Sergei, busier with putting the audience back in line rather than keeping his eye on the fight, raises the shirt on the stick and drops it immediately after, never checking whether the participants are ready.

Nikolai and you are eyeing each other like famished wolves, strolling in circles in anticipation for the opponent’s first strike. Something primal has awakened inside you and, looking into Nikolai’s clouded eyes, you know he’s feeling the same thing - a wholly devouring, yet uncomfortable itch that pushes people to conquer, to dominate. Head on a spike or a head between legs, all of it is quite the same to this ravenous instinct.

“I must admit, sweat and exhaustion looks marvelous on you,” Nikolai says between pants.

You entertain him with a chuckle. “You should see me in the morning.”

“Now that’s an invitation I simply can’t turn down,” he answers in a low tone. Your breath hitches, no matter how much you don’t want to admit that.

When he’s preparing to strike, you grab his underarm and roll him over your shoulder but Nikolai is smart enough to hold on to you, causing both of you to hit the ground once more. Quickly, you get back up on your feet.

He’s barely standing up when you attempt a high kick, your foot almost hitting the side of his head but Lantsov is fast enough to grab your ankle. His other hand grabs your shirt and soon you’re the one being tossed. Your sore spine hits the hard ground for the third time, the pain great enough to render you unable to stifle a loud groan.

Then come the fisticuffs - measured blows at anything your arms can reach. You may be nimble enough to duck them most of the time but Nikolai’s limbs are significantly longer than yours, forcing you to make bigger dodges that expose you to more of his strikes.

Your hand is about to make contact with his side when the cowbell resounds for the third time. But now Sergei is ringing it in short intervals - end of match.

An impressive draw. Yet the audience is unsatisfied as the excited cheers turn to grumbles and booing. Between winning and losing, ties are the worst - bland results that only prove someone met their equal. No fun in that, is there? It doesn’t affect the inner hierarchy or morale. It’s just… dull.

Breathing heavily, you leave the ring, passing by another participant bravely getting themself into a few minutes of subsisting. Your evening of tossing the king around is done, so it’s better to get over it immediately and definitely not ponder the suggestive remarks he was so eager to share. I’m a corporal, you remind yourself, I have to act like it.

You’re unwrapping the bandages around your wrists when you feel someone’s chest touching your shoulderblades, an unnamed hand hesitantly resting on your hip. The stranger smells like sweat, dirt and soap - Nikolai, without a doubt. You don’t even notice that you’re holding your breath.

"How about a private rematch?" he whispers in your ear. You feel his finger dragging up your arm. "I have reach, you have flexibility…" he ponders aloud.

A shiver runs down your spine, goosebumps sprout on your skin but disappear shortly after. You turn your head to look at him. Nikolai’s face is a lot closer to yours than you had expected, making you gasp quietly at the obscene lack of space. "You like getting manhandled, don't you?"

"I may be a king but I'm definitely not a saint.” His breathy whisper brushes against your flushed face.

Your eyes drop to his lips, as you’re saying those fateful words: "I won't go easy on you this time either."

Nikolai’s mouth curves into a grin. "By the Saints, please don't."

#shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone fanfiction #shadow and bone x you #nikolai x reader #nikolai x you #nikolai lantsov fanfiction #nikolai lantsov #nikolai imagines #nikolai lantsov imagine #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov x you

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lixzey · 5 months

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A snippet from The Name of the Game.

“What are you, a lesbian?” Sirius asked, frustrated at the girl who had avoided him the whole day.

His words caught you off guard, making you stop in your tracks. Sirius Black has been following you the whole day and you have had enough of him. You turned to face him, raising an eyebrow at his audacity. You had purposefully been avoiding him because of his arrogance, which was becoming tiresome. It had nothing to do with your sexual orientation, which was definitely none of his business.

“What did you just say?” You snapped, your voice laced with annoyance.

“I said, what are you, a lesbian?” Sirius repeated, his tone smug.

You scoffed, unable to believe his ignorance and lack of common sense.

“Don't you think you're just not my type?”

Sirius looked taken aback, the cocky smirk on his lips fading momentarily. He had assumed that every girl would be swooning over him, but you were different. You refused to be swayed by his charm and good looks. But instead of backing down, Sirius became even more determined.

“Come on L/n, tell me, how do I get you? How do I even win you? What’s your secret, huh?”

You were absolutely fed up with him, he was getting on your nerves and it made you want to just punch him, but you decided to play along with his little game.

A mischievous smile played on your lips as you stepped forward, a seductive look in your eyes. You grabbed Sirius' tie, pulling him closer, making him gulp nervously—clearly not expecting you to do that. You stood on your toes, trying to reach his full height.

“Well, that’s a secret I don’t tell little boys.” you whispered in his ear, your warm breath sending shivers down his spine. “The question is, are you man enough to find out?” You let go of his tie and took a step back, a smug smirk that could rival his spread on your lips, before sauntering away.

Sirius stood there, flabbergasted. He had never met a girl like you before, and it was both frustrating and intriguing. You had a confidence and independence that he found both maddening and irresistible. He had never been rejected like this before. He couldn't believe that you were the only person who was immune to his charms.

The plan to make Y/n L/n was a bit harder than he initially thought.

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#sirius black fanfiction #sirius black imagine #sirius black x reader #sirius black fic #sirius black #sirius x you #sirius x reader #sirius x y/n #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #sirius orion black #the marauders era #marauders era #the marauders

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captain-hawks · 7 months

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RECIPROCAL SIN

♡ — levi ackerman x f!reader

It's inappropriate, this unspoken arrangement between yourself and Captain Levi. And yet as the polarity between right and wrong begins to disintegrate under his steady, burning, gaze, you can’t quite bring yourself to care.

18+ ONLY

wc — 2.5k

prompt — lactation kink, mutual masturbation

additional content — smut, infidelity, voyeurism, exhibitionism, fingering, handjob, pregnant reader

╰┈➤ kinktober masterlist

This is wrong, and you know it.

Despite the fact that you’ve never so much as even kissed Levi Ackerman, let alone actually touched him in such a way, you’re well aware with every fiber of your being that it’s wrong.

You knew it was wrong from the start, back when you’d avert your gaze from the silver band left discarded on your night table, turning instead to face Levi from where he stood leaning against the wall across the room.

It was a silent agreement born out of the Scout Regiment captain furiously bursting into your home unannounced in search of your husband late one evening, the lock on the front door splintering uselessly beneath the unforgiving force of his boot. He had a bone to pick with the Garrison captain, one that had him stomping through the house, unaware that the object of his irritation was off on business in another district.

With the loud rush of water pouring into the bath drowning everything else out, you had no idea you weren’t alone in the house until Levi brusquely pushed the bathroom door open with no regard for potentially cornering the captain in a state of undress. But instead, he found you with your head tossed back against the lip of the porcelain tub, water still rushing from the faucet, lips parted for your breathy little moans as you spread your legs beneath the rising soapy water and began to relieve the maddening heat between your thighs with your fingers.

Not one to beat around the bush, Levi had cleared his throat, standing there in the middle of the room looking down at you with his arms crossed. While tension was still visible in the set of his shoulders, his expression was otherwise unreadable.

You had served alongside Levi as a team leader amongst the Scouts for several years—years full of lingering glances, mixed signals, and so much unresolved tension, you had been choking on it.

Frustration had eventually found you in the bed of Matteo, a Garrison captain who had taken a liking to you—much to Levi’s displeasure. One thing led to another, and within a few months, you were married. Your pregnancy came shortly thereafter, at which point you were discharged from the Survey Corps for the sake of your health.

Levi hadn’t spoken to you since the day you packed up your office at the base, offering you nothing more than one last sweep of his penetrating gaze as he muttered, “Good luck.”

Despite the months of silence, as he stood there—boots a stark contrast against the white marble adorning the bathroom floor—it became abundantly clear the unspoken thing that always hung heavily in the air between you had yet to dissipate. Far from it.

“I take it he’s not here,” he had ventured.

Sinking slightly lower into the soapy water, you turned off the faucet with your foot.

“He’s not.”

“Well, don’t stop on my account then,” he’d said mildly.

Your breath caught in your throat at his words, thighs clenching together with the achingly traitorous throb of arousal that coursed through you at being caught in the act.

Caught by him.

Without letting yourself second guess what you were about to do, you’d slipped two fingers back into the heat between your thighs, his steady eye contact making your heart pound heavily in your chest as you fingered yourself with Levi as your silently captivated audience.

And so, somehow, it became a habit—Levi would quietly slip away from the barracks when your husband wasn’t home, offering you no pleasantries nor conversation, just his rapt attention as you touched yourself for him. Sometimes in the bath, occasionally when you were curled up on the sofa downstairs, once in the kitchen. But mostly in your room, legs spread wide on carnal display as the other side of your mattress remained cold and empty, your ring finger left bare.

He never said much, and neither of you ever outright acknowledged what you were doing. As if the silence stifled the truth behind the pangs of lust and want that constantly simmered deep in your abdomen, day in and day out.

After you found him frustratedly palming the obvious erection tented at the front of his pants one evening, clearly unable to wait to take care of things in private, you’d begged him to touch himself, too. You came harder on your own fingers than you ever had on any man’s cock that night, fingering yourself to the sight of Captain Levi fucking Ackerman slumped down on the floor in your room, biting his fist and cursing as he furiously stroked his flushed, leaking shaft.

You quelled the budding guilt in your chest by reminding yourself again and again that you weren’t even touching him, the two of you were simply pleasuring yourselves in the same room. And if the slick arousal between your legs soon turned into a gushing flood whenever you were an observer to the sight of the Captain fucking his fist, well, that was a secret best kept between you and your fingers alone.

At one point or another, Levi began to migrate from the wall across the room to a chair beside your bed. And this is how you find him now, his muscled thighs spread wide as he rocks his hips upward into the firm grip of his fist while you moan and writhe atop the mattress.

It’s wrong, how badly you want him. How much you want to climb into his lap in that chair, to sink down onto his fat cock and ride him until he fills you with every last drop of his seed. How often you fantasize about leaving Matteo, especially the nights he comes home late from patrols with alcohol lingering on his breath and the suspicious, cloying stench of perfume clinging to the collar of his jacket.

But the growing roundness of your belly is a constant reminder of just how complicated your situation is, with no easy break in sight.

“Look at me,” Levi’s voice is rough as he pulls you from your thoughts.

Despite the fact that the two of you never actually touch, the intimacy of this depraved ritual makes you tremble—Levi’s jacket left strewn across the back of the chair. His shirt untucked and partially unbuttoned, a tantalizing sliver of his chest left exposed. Black strands of hair strewn haphazardly across his face, lips parted and slick with saliva. Pupils blown wide with lust. Knuckles white as he tightly grips his cock.

To see him undone like this makes you weak.

Reckless.

You’ve never felt quite so seen as you do under his steely gray gaze, the nearly imperceptible reactions that tug at his stern facial features with every little whimper and moan that leaves your lips.

“What’s…” Levi suddenly blurts out before he trails off, voice pitched in an odd tone.

Glancing down, you quickly realize what he’s referring to, taking in the sight of the two wet stains that have formed on the front of your nightgown. Your breasts have begun to produce milk recently, sometimes leaking at inopportune times, though this is the first it’s happened during one of Levi’s visits.

“I’m sorr—“ you try to apologize, embarrassed.

But Levi cuts you off with a loud, gruff moan, eyes glued to the dampness hugging your breasts as he swiftly catches the thick ropes of cum spurting from his cock with the washcloth that had been folded neatly over his thigh.

You begin to notice a pattern after that—Levi’s eyes will often stray to your chest as the two of you touch yourselves, lingering for a moment. And the nights when he finds your nightgown damp with the milk leaking from your nipples beneath, you swear you can feel the tension in the air go taut as a bowstring before it quickly snaps, sending him over the edge with a climax that has the feet of his wooden chair groaning backward across the floor.

–

Maybe it was the way Matteo left this morning, hardly a look in your direction as he shrugged on his jacket and made his way out the door.

Or maybe it was the way Levi arrived, unable to keep the curve out of his lips when he uncharacteristically tucked a small yellow flower behind your ear.

Regardless, something’s left you feeling emboldened tonight when Levi settles down in the chair beside the bed, freeing his waiting erection from the confines of his pants. Bold enough to cross an invisible line you know doesn’t even exist anymore, not really.

Your tits ache relentlessly as of late, swollen and heavy with milk, and you’ve been leaking far more often. So when you feel your nightgown already growing damp when you’ve only just begun to toy with your slit, you’re not surprised. But rather than let the cotton stick to your chest, you don’t hesitate to pull down the thin straps instead, allowing your tits to spill out.

Levi’s answering harsh intake of air is audible, and you can’t say you don’t take pleasure in having truly caught him off guard for once. When you turn to face him after a beat, the look on his face makes your head spin, eyes dark with heady, unabashed desire.

And maybe it’s wrong.

Maybe it's always been wrong.

But right now, you don’t care.

All you care about is the way his entire body tenses when you bring one hand up to your breast and squeeze, letting milk spray out. He looks utterly transfixed, so you use both hands to fondle your tits, letting the milk freely leak everywhere as he grips the chair with one hand while pumping his dick with the other. The wood groans, threatening to splinter.

Nobody’s ever looked at you the way Levi is now—like he wants to consume you.

Like he’d cut down a thousand Titans just to close the gap between the chair and the mattress.

Like he doesn’t give a shit if this is wrong, either.

And it’s that which loosens your lips to say the words that have been sitting on the tip of your tongue for weeks, since the first night your wet shirt sent him careening over the edge.

“Do you want a taste?”

The shredded, frayed threads holding together the last of Levi’s self-control snap, the sound of the chair scraping against the floor the only warning before he’s pressed against the side of the bed, taking one of your breasts into his scorching hot mouth. You gasp at the sensation, back arching into his touch as Levi sucks at one of your tits while squeezing the other, letting the milk freely dribble down his hand.

“Fuck,” he groans, pulling back so he can lick broad, firm strokes across both of your tits with his tongue, lapping up every sticky, wet smear of milk.

When he’s cleaned up the mess—temporarily—he pauses, glancing up at you with a wild look in his eyes, milk dripping from his full lips.

“Levi,” you whimper, unable to stop yourself from tangling your fingers in his hair.

A grunt of pleasure leaves his lips when you tug, and he lets you pull his face back into your chest. A fresh gush of arousal leaks from your cunt at the feeling of his teeth grazing your sensitive nipples, callused fingertips kneading the soft skin of your breasts as he greedily drinks from you.

“Don’t stop,” you keen, spreading your thighs and pulling up the hem of your nightgown as your fingers seek out your pulsing cunt.

“Couldn’t if I tried,” he exhales, breathing hard, his hair entirely askew, cheeks and chin entirely soaked with your milk.

With both of his hands occupied, the bed frame groans as he ruts against it, flushed cock smearing precum along the edge of your sheets.

“Need more,” you plead, because there’s no turning back now.

Levi doesn’t hesitate to oblige you, continuing to milk your swollen tits with his lips and left hand as his right snakes between your legs, batting your own hand away to slip two dexterous fingers into the slick, velvety walls of your pussy.

You both moan at the intrusion, and his lips brush against your achingly hard nipples as he murmurs, “Are you always this wet?” Another finger joins the first two, stretching you open even further. “For me?”

“Yes,” you exhale, rocking your hips into his touch.

And then his mouth comes crashing into yours, lips slotting together like he’s been studying the shape of them for days.

Months.

Years.

Levi’s kiss is every bit as hungry, greedy, and all-consuming as you’ve always imagined, his lips and tongue exploring every inch of your mouth with the subtlety of a wildfire as you tug him up beside you onto the bed. He’s confident and precise, like he already knows each button to push, every little way to have you gasping and moaning into his mouth.

And when he takes your bottom lip between his teeth, thumb playing with your swollen clit as he crooks his fingers in your soaked channel, you come without warning, keening and shaking as he strokes you through the aftershocks of searing pleasure exploding inside of you.

You reach for Levi as you come down from the haze of your climax, an unapologetic groan spilling from his lips when your fingers wrap about this throbbing cock. With your other hand, you tug him by the hair back down to your breasts. He’s quick to take the hint, lips suckling at your leaking tits once more as you stroke him

An idea suddenly occurs to you, and your mouth quirks upward with a smirk that he can’t see as you let go of his dick to palm at one of your breasts instead. You bring your attention back to his shaft a moment later, satisfaction curling in your gut at the downright depraved moan that you pull from him as you coat his length with the fresh milk now dripping from your palm.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he grunts, hips jerking into your lubricated touch.

“I made a mess, so I think it’s only fair if you do, too, Levi,” you murmur, carding your fingers through his hair as he squeezes a spray of milk from your breast and lets it coat his lips and tongue.

Continuing to stroke him, the rhythm with which he jerks his hips upward soon turns to an uncoordinated stutter, and the way he continues to mouth at your breasts grows sloppy, his entire body tensing up.

“Come all over me.”

And that’s all it takes to send him over the edge, his body swiftly shifting upward and positioning his cock to dump rope after rope of thick, hot cum all over your milk-soaked tits. You whimper, cunt clenching around nothing at the filthy sight.

“Tch. What a fucking mess,” he murmurs as he leans in, not giving you time to respond before closing his plush lips back over one of your tender, leaking nipples.

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