That while Stanley is absolutely going to town on you, coaxing you through another orgasms, leaving you speechless because youāve lost count how many times heās pushed you over the edge he just looks down at your pretty little face and loses it.
āFeel so good ya canāt even talk? Donāt worry baby, Stanleyās got ya. Stanleyās gonna take care of ya.ā
Mostly mullet Stan coded but āļø we love all stages of Stan here
I wanna steal mullet!stanās jacket so badly like you donāt understand how badly I want to steal it.
It probably smells like cigarette smoke, hints of weed and his cologne but itās the warmest thing youāve ever worn and you never wanna take it off like ever due to how comforting it is.
Mullet!Stan probably gets all flustered about it but tries to hide it by loudly proclaiming how good you looked in it, maybe even more then him even though it is his jacket and heāll want it back eventually.
However he lets you keep it on for longer as he likes the sight of you in his clothes for no particular reason at all. š no. Reason. At. All.
Stanley once found you sleeping in it once and couldnāt help but come and cuddle you because you just looked so unbelievably adorable it should be illegal. His life may not be great but at least he has you to be his shining light.
Iād also like to think that Ford likes it when you wear his clothes too but is more on the reserved side in comparison to Stanley. So heās more likely to leave it in places you frequent as a hint for you to wear it rather than openly asking you to wear it.
His trench coat has deep pockets that could house about anything your heart desires, which is heaven for you because you could leave little gifts for Ford when handing him back his coat, all just to see him smile.
You couldāve left flowers, pretty pebbles or anything abnormally beautiful in there and Ford will document it in his journal, sighting you as the person who brought such items to him and their meanings to him before you personally handpick them for him specifically. Also imagine that when he gets sucked into the portal, the only thing he had of you was a small pebble that was the same shade of colour as your eyes tucked away in his pocket.
(He gets it made into a necklace during his time in the multiverse just so that he doesnāt have to worry about it falling out of his pocket catches onto something and rips)
Tbh I think this depends. If it's with a one night stand, he's pretty āhit it and sleepā or he goes to the Stanmobile to sleep if they're being clingy or he's spooked. A quick āthanks, tootsā and a slap on the ass and he's out.
If he's with someone he cares about, he's very clingy. Will give them a sip of his Pitt from the side table and lots of kisses and his hands are everywhere. Does not care about sweat or wiping anything down. Wants to be big spoon to sleep.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partnerās)
His: His hands/arms. Knows he's muscley and knows his hands are huge. Also likes his crooked grin cause it's very different from Fordās smile.
Theirs: loves a good pair of thick thighs. Tbh I don't see him disliking any part of his partner but he loves them āwith meat on their bonesā as he says. More to grab and squish. (When they've been together for a while, will say he adores their eyes, too, but especially when they're looking at him.)
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Comes a lot and it's pretty thick. Doesn't taste bad but not good either (his diet isn't great) Would prefer to come inside but is fine with it on their face/chest/stomach/ass/etc. He's not picky.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
I could see him keeping panties in his pocket and randomly touching them or holding them against his face.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what theyāre doing?)
He'sā¦experienced in one night stands. Knows what he's doing but only when it's rough/fast/etc. If it's slow and sweet he gets flustered and is easier to overwhelm.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Sitting against the headboard with them in his lap, their back to his chest, slow deep fuckin or using his fingers. Will whisper naughty things in their ear and watch his hand between their legs.
Would never forget the image of his lover wearing his gold chain, riding him, the pendant swinging with their movements.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Once he's comfy, he can be both. I can see him teasing and picking lil fights and trying to make them laugh, but I could also see him just wanting their attention focused. Is very ākeep your eyes on meā
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Grey hairs around the base. Probably doesn't care about trimming it unless his partner asks him to, and will probably make a grumbly comment about the effort. He does not care if his partner shaves.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Again, depends if it's a one night stand or not. If it is, it's not romantic at all. He's there for one thing only, no strings attached. If it isn't, he's absolutely worshipful. Kisses stretch marks, moles, scars. Nuzzles everywhere he can get to tickle with his stubble. Calls them every pet name in the book. Says how lucky he is to have landed someone like them.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Probably doesn't do it much after he takes over the Mystery Shack, reminds him of how lonely he is. When he was drifting, he does it to forget but only if he can't find a willing partner to spend the night with instead. After he gets Ford back and has a partner, he would do it but only to a, tease his partner or b, cope with them being gone for a few days. Prefers them on the phone for it.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Definitely into edging/overstimulation. Stealth collars, makes his chest puff up in pride.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
His office or in front of a mirror. Or his armchair. Or his car. He has a lot of favorites, sue him.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
For most of his life, he's only in it for himself. Likes when his partners beg and make him feel important. Later, when with someone for a while, domestic shit gets him. They brought him a Pitt and kissed his cheek and he's hard???? Still really likes feeling like the ābig man of the houseā tho.
N = No (something they wouldnāt do, turn offs)
Doesn't like handcuffs on himself, they remind him of prison. Doesn't like if he can't see/hear/move his hands.
Will never involve another in the bedroom. His self esteem is too low for that.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Prefers to receive I think. Again, makes him feel in control. Much rather use his hands on his partner so he can look at their face easier and see their expressions.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Generally rougher for sure. Sensual is a once in a while thing if he needs reassurance.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Often. Hell yes. He loves em. Wants to see how quickly he can get them off on a back closet, or his office, or in the shower. Power trip.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Experimenting sure, I could see him trying a lot.
Risks, depends. Doesn't want the twins to see. Doesn't want Ford to see. Doesn't want anyone to see, really.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Heās good for one round himself, but he's more than willing to use his mouth or hands until his partner is satisfied. Doesn't mind if that takes a while. Would absolutely lay in bed all lazily while fingering them after he's finished.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Some of them?? More into using them on a partner than himself. Would love collars, nipple clamps, maybe a flog. Would be strangely intrigued if they had different kinds of dildos. (What shape is that?? Let me watch you try it)
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Merciless tease. Whispers naughty shit all day. āI'm sorry, I couldn't hear you, babe, say it again? Louder?ā Touches everywhere but where they want most.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
He grunts and groans a lot. Will not shut up, talks for the entire time.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
If you say he's a āgood manā it breaks him. He still has a hard time remembering some things sometimes (can wake up missing pieces). Sometimes the bad things come back first and he needs kind words and to be reminded he's safe
X = X-ray (letās see whatās going on under those clothes)
Huge arms, very very strong. Prominent gut, obviously. His legs are skinnier than the rest of him. Very hairy. Brand on his back and maybe a few tattoos from his gang days, but nothing too serious.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Once he has a partner he loves? It's high. Wants them constantly, even if it's just their body near his. When he was drifting, I think it was only if he wanted a place to sleep or was really lonely. Sometimes he felt worse after.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
He likes the after sex cuddles, so he stays up a bit. Will tease them about the sex in a rough, quiet voice.
š±Definitely loves being rough with you in bed, and im talkin' tied up or handcuffed, blindfolding you FS
š±Probably likes having some old music playing in the backround when he fucks you, but the sexy ones (he def has a Playlist)
š±ABSOLUTELY has to have his hands on you at all times, especially around strangers. Like after he finishes a 'Mystery shack' tour and you're waiting behind the counter, helping customers check out Stan is standing behind you, his hand around your waist, glaring at any guy that tries to hit on you.
š±Loves when you don't cover the marks he gave you the night before, especially when you wear a tank top and he can see all the "damage" he did while you rummage around the kitchen the morning after
š±ass man 100% Loves slapping it whenever you pass him or are bent over, you swear he has a sixth sense when it comes to your ass
šAt first doesn't seem like the type to want much to do with sex, constantly burying himself in his work/studying and chasing cryptids
šoh boy are you wrong tho! Cuz the first time you guys fucked you swear he was gonna leave you're entire body covered in hickeys with how much he loved kissing and sucking on your skin
šhe's definitely in the softer side when it comes to actually p->v sex, but like I said loves kissing, sucking, and biting your skin
šI think he'd also me massaging your body lightly as he's fucking you, especially around your hips and thighs, maybe your boob's? Who knows where his hands will end up next
šABSOLUTELY, undoubtedly a thigh man in my opinion. He'd love squishing them, especially when they're around his head, and he'd definitely be into thigh fucking. Just everything that involves your thighs
(Also Bill definitely fucked you when he possessed Ford)
What would be Stanās brothers reaction when after Y/n helped them with stuff and they said āWell, what are you waiting for? Kiss on the cheek?ā Or āwhat else do you want? A kiss on the cheek?ā And reader fastly respond āYes pleaseā without hesitation š¤
Ford:
āWhat are you waiting for? A kiss on the cheek?ā Ford said when he noticed that you were lingering nearby.
āYes please.ā You replied almost instantaneously.
The poor man was now blushing to the tips of his ears as his eyes grew wide. This wasnāt a response he was expecting and therefore not properly prepared to answer accordingly.
He didnāt expect you to eagerly agree even in the slightest and now he was racked with nerves, while his mind overworked on whether or not you were joking with him. Ford has never been in the situation before where someone shown active interest in him, so needless to say this man was imploding on himself over shat could only be a theoretical.
He hated vagueness and ambiguity, they were his biggest personal pet peeves. he much preferred things to be upfront and direct for he tended to look for deeper meaning in things they didnāt need to be looked at so intently or up close.
āI- well if itās okay with you.ā Ford says, finding the collar of his turtleneck a little tight and finding it hard to swallow the lump in his throat.
āItās more than okay.ā You said with a smile.
Ford had to steel his nerves that were running rampant within him as though he was still that teenage boy, he mustered the strength he needed to press a sweet, almost featherlight kiss to your cheek that had butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
Stanley:
āWhat are you waiting for? A kiss on the cheek?ā He asked.
āYes please.ā You said without hesitation.
Stanley, while taken aback but your straightforwardness, smirked in response as he leant closer to you.
āOh do you now?ā He says playfully with a raised brow, trying his hardest not to show just show affected he was by your words as he felt his heart in his throat.
āI wouldnāt have said otherwise.ā You replied with a smile, taking a step towards him as he internally congratulated himself for not loosing his touch. (or so he liked to claim when in reality itās you who holds the more power in this situation.)
Stan only said what he said because it was something his father said time and time again to him after he did something that he thought would finally make his father look at him. Only for that to not be the case as his father easily dismissed his efforts and managed to degrade him with a single sarcastic comment that felt like a dagger to the heart.
Here when he said it, you made it sound a lot sweeter when you gladly accepted the prospect of him kissing your cheek, almost as though it was the only thing that would make your entire day. You were far too sweet for Stan but you attract more with honey than vinegar or so they say and needless to say you had this man hook line and sinker with how sweet you were.
āOkay honey just remembered youāre the one who asked for this.ā Stan said as he pressed a kiss to your cheek that made you want more in the future.
Posted on Ao3, but posting here as well: Here's my contribution to the Stan x Reader genre.
Tags: Vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, porn with mild plot, c'mon you guys know me at this point.
Know When to Fold 'Em
"Thanks for all your help, you're doin great, dood!" Soos's voice is full of pride, contentment as you hand over small zipped bag, the profits of the day. You smile, giving a slight shrug of your shoulders. "Soos, you've told me that every day for the past two years."
"And I mean it every time! Can't imagine runnin' this place without ya," he beams at you, his crooked smile making your own smile grow a little larger. Despite him being a few years younger than you, he makes a fantastic boss. "Can't believe Mr. Pines thought you was gonna be useless when I hired ya."
Well, that makes the smile drop.
You met Mr. Pines, well,Ā both Mr. Pines when you got a job here at the shack, cashier and handyperson. A little odd, yes, but you needed the job and for a tourist trap? The place paid well enough, you could afford a small house and just about everything else you needed. You tap your foot, pressing your lips together. "Soos, not that I don't appreciate the words of encouragement, but you don't have to be up here." You throw a thumb over your shoulder and gesture to the shack. "I'm sure Melody could use your help with the baby."
"You sure? I feel kinda bad leavin' you here with all the clean up and restocking." Just as you're about to assure him that you're more than capable of restocking bobble heads and putting out minimally designed bumper stickers, the doorbell chimes and another voice breaks in. "Don't worry about it, Soos. I'll make sure everything gets put back in its place." The old Mr. Mystery poses in front of you. He stands tall, a rather tacky Hawaiian shirt with luau girls and surfboards plastered on it, a pair of khakis completing the look. He stretches his arms out in a flourish, making his entrance more grand.
You roll your eyes slightly, it's the same every time he comes into the shack, which...has been quite a lot, recently. "I haven't had a complaint once," you remark as Stanley begins to look around the place.
"That's cause Soos is too nice of a boss," he says, running his finger along the underside of the checkout counter. "See all this dust? Unbelievable!" He sticks out a finger towards your face, which you squint at.
"There's nothing there."
"To the untrained eye, maybe! This place may as well be covered in mud." You grumble an unhappy sound before Soos speaks up again. "Ah c'mon, Mr. Pines, they're a great worker!" Soos' arm comes around you in a one sided hug, squeezing you tight against his side. "Say, you been around a lot." Soos relaxes his grip on you, which lets you take in a deep breath. "You miss runnin' the shack?"
"What? No, no." He waves a hand dismissively. "Just makin' sure my life's work is still up and runnin', you know. Plus, the kids loved this place."
That was true. You had the pleasure of meeting the twins at the start of this summer. The girl, Mabel, was charming as all get out - she even made you a sweater, which you promised to wear in the colder months. The young boy, Dipper? A little surly. You swore he was running tests on when you weren't looking, or was trying to, anyway. At least by the end of the summer, whatever anxiety he had about you seemed to wash away.
"Okay! I'm gonna trust this place to yous guys. Lock up!" Soos waves his goodbyes, disappearing from the gift shop and somewhere into the house.
"I can handle this, you know?" You make your way to the small storage closet, taking out a box and ripping it open.
"I'm sure you can," he shrugs his shoulders. "Just makin' sure you do it right." Stanley then makes his way behind the register and takes a seat. You stand, blinking.
"What?" He asks.
"Aren't you going to help?"
"Huh? Oh, no, I'm not helpin' likeĀ that.Ā I'm supervisin' ya," he laughs, slapping his own knee before propping them up on the counter.
You don't know why you expected anything different. You've known Stanley for the better part of two years and while he certainly has his redeeming qualities, being extra helpful isn't one of them. You sigh, and begin unpacking the restocks.
To your surprise, Stan is the one who strikes up the conversation. It's simple questions at first, how the shack has been, the types of tourists that've been coming around, and how Soos has been running the place. Whenever you think you finish with an answer, he probes for me, and you notice, his eyes stay on you a large majority of the time.
You feel your face flush a little with that.
Finally, the restocking is done, and you get the broom. Minimal housekeeping; the weather has been dry, so no mud. "You got any plans tonight?" The question catches you off guard, making you turn completely around to face Stan.
"Uh, other than eating a frozen pizza? No. Why?"
"Wanna play a couple round of cards?" He stuffs his hands in his khaki pockets, shrugging, as if he doesn't care how you answer the question. The way he shifts his attention to the floor, however, makes you think otherwise. "Ford's out on a nature hike, or whatever it is that nerds do in the woods, so I got no plans myself."
"Sure." You answer. "Sounds like fun, and beats eating the pizza alone."
By the look of quick surprise, he clearly wasn't expecting you to say yes. He shrugs it off fast enough, shooting a finger gun at you. "Perfect! What's the address? I'll be over at seven." You grab a pen and paper, scribbling it down and passing it over.
Huh, this'll be the first time he sees your house. You think that you better clean up a little bit, not that you think he'd particularly care, but still.
It takes very little to actually clean up your house. A few stray pieces of clothing that make it to the hamper (you missed each time you threw it in, but who's here to see?) and washing a few of the dishes. Just as you finish putting the pizza in, there's a knock at your door.
You hurry up, stopping at the mirror in the hallway just before the door, and look at yourself. You smooth out your shirt, nodding and opening the door.
Stanley stands on your porch with a twelve pack in one hand and two bottles of liquor, held precariously by the neck, in the other. He's still in the same outfit from earlier, but the top few buttons are undone. Were they like that earlier? "Figured it'd be impolite if I only brought it for myself," he shrugs the pack in his arm a little, the bottles clinking together. He glances around. "Nice place."
"Thanks," you say, stepping to the side and letting him in. "Just set it on the table." You watch as he strides through your house, the pack of alcohol landing with aĀ thumpĀ while the bottles settle down nicely. He pulls out a chair, easing into it as he props up a foot on one of his knees. The way he leans against the table...
"Where's the cards?" You clear your throat, sliding out a chair across from him and taking a seat. You need something else to distract you.
"Right here," he sticks a hand in his pocket and pulls out a rather beat-up-looking deck of cards and slaps them on the table. "You shuffle, or me?" You eye the cards for a moment, reaching out and grabbing the deck.
"I will." The cards are pleasantly worn, and you can't help but wonder how much use these things have gotten. "Go easy on me? Been a while since I played."
"First rounds are on me," he nods. "Don't try and pull the wool over my eyes." He playfully points an accusatory finger at you.
"I know, I know." You cut the deck, shuffling them thoroughly before dealing them out.
It's...pleasant. You didn't expect it to be unpleasant, to be fair, but aside from the one off times of drinking, there's a handful of times when the two of you have been alone together. Stan takes the time to tell you a wild tale of when he was a "much younger buck,"Ā when he managed to steal a shipment of some undisclosed items from a smuggler. It's amusing, even if it isn't real. You can never tell with him.
Eventually, the oven dings and the pizza is ready. It's served, and you bring two glasses out as well. Before the beer, Stan reaches for the liquor and twists off the cap. "Want one?" You press your lips together, thinking for a moment.
"Hit me." It's aĀ guesstimateĀ on how much a shot would be. Or maybe two.
Either way, you wait until Stan pours his before clinking your glasses together and downing it. Whiskey may not be your go-to, especially when it's warm, but the burn in your throat has a familiar comfort. You cough a little, shaking your head and nodding. "Strong." You comment.
"That's the point." He says. Stan sticks out his hand, wiggling his fingers as a sign to hand the cards over. You do, still reeling from the shot as you fish out a bottle of beer. It goes down much easier than the whiskey.
You try very hard to not stare at his hands, but it's difficult. It wasn't something you noticed immediately, but Stan's hands are.... big. Large. Pretty much every synonym for big is how you would describe them, and you vaguely recall the one time you touched them as you passed him something in the shop. They were rough, calloused, but also incredibly warm.
You're not drunk enough to blame that thought on the alcohol right now, so you just push it from your mind as he deals the cards.
Once again, things go back to being pleasant. You nurse your beer as the cards continue to get played, one bottle quickly multiplying between the two of you, along with the cash piling in the center of the table. The conversation steers to him telling you about the adventures he had with the Twins, an endearing tone in his voice that you can't help but smile at. The pizza gets devoured, and when you glance up to the clock, you realize that it's almost eleven o'clock. Have you really been here this long?
That's when it clicks in your alcohol muddled brain.
Stan isĀ lonely. He's been in the shop almost every day for the past week, since the twins left, and even before then, he and the twins were around quite a bit. It would make sense, he went from being around them, his brother, Soos's family, andĀ youĀ for almost three months straight. You look down at the cards, your focus fading for a moment before he speaks.
"Think I mighta run you outta money," he gestures to the table. Your attention turns to it and yeah, there's a decent pile of cash on it. You're pretty sure there's also monopoly money in there, but you're a little too drunk to really notice. "Got anything else to bet?" You think for a moment, tapping the table.
"M'clothes." You answer, plainly. He stares at you.
"Uh, didn't quite catch that?"
"M'CLOTHES." You say it in a louder tone, making sure he can hear it this time. "S'all I got, I'm not up for bettin' my appliances." You point at the blender that sits atop the counter.
"C'mon," he rubs at the back of his neck. "That'd involve me takin' my clothes off too, you don't wanna see that."
"What if I told you that's why I suggested it?" holy shit, why are you saying this? Why are you suddenlyĀ soĀ bold, what the hell is in this drink?
"I'd tell ya, you should stop teasin' an old man." You grab the deck of cards, shuffling them in the absolutely worst way ever before slamming them back on the table and pushing them over to him. "Deal 'em."
"You're too drunk for this." The rather sincere reply catches you off guard.
"No, I'm not." You say, stern in your rebuttal. "Look." You jump to your feet, a little wobbly, and begin putting one foot in front of the other, walking a line in the linoleum of your kitchen. While you're not walking perfectly straight, you're doing better than expected. You think so, anyway. "See? I'm f-" just as you're about to finish your sentence, you perform the miraculous feat of tripping over air. You fall a freshly logged tree.
You expect to crash to the floor in the most painful crash since the last time you went to the roller rink, but you never meet the ground. Slowly, you open your eyes, staring up at him. You must have spun in your fall, his hands tucked under your armpits. "What were you sayin' about bein sober enough?" Oh, he's soĀ fucking smug about this.
"I trip on nothin' all the time, drinkin' doesn't have anything to do with this." you weakly shrug your hands, but this close, you catch the smell on him. Mixed with the alcohol, you can catch the scent of cigar smoke, but something faintly woodsy and earthy. It takes everything in you to not sniff at the air. "Uh-huh." he chuckles.
There's a brief moment of silence that passes over the two of you. He doesn't make a move to pull you up, but you're not making a move to get up, either. Instead, you raise a hand and gently press it against his cheek. "You're handsome." You mumble.
"Oh, you're fuckin'Ā wasted."
ThatĀ makes you twist in his grip. You manage to push yourself to your knees, putting your face just a few inches away from his. "Stop talkin' like I don't mean it."
"YouĀ don'tĀ mean it."
"I meanĀ this." You grab the sides of his tacky Hawaiian shirt and pull him forward. Your lips crash against his, not realizing how hard you pulled him into you. The scrape of his stubble burns against your chin, a slight shiver running through you. There's the faint taste of tobacco that lingers on him, the chapped skin of his lips. It isn't how you expected this to happen, but to be quite frank, you didn't think this was everĀ going to happen.
It's only a moment later that you realize he hasn't made a move to kiss you back. He hasn't done anything. You quickly pull back, embarrassed. Why did you do that? God, you're never drinking again. You're not even an alcoholic, and you're planning to go to a 12 step program the second you get sober enough to drive. Your mind races - where else could you move? Maybe the Arctic, right? That's far enough way, that way you c-
You're actually not even far away from him before his arm wraps around your waist, pulling you against his broad chest. You squeak in surprise, hands resting on his thick thighs as he deepens the kiss.
Even through the clothes, he'sĀ hot, almost like a furnace. He's burning against you, and this kiss. It makes you dizzy, head spinning. There's a hunger in the kiss, a desperation that you don't think you've ever felt when you kissed other people. His hand holds a tight grip on you, squeezing your side, and you practically melt right into him.
It's a little awkward at first before you two manage to change your positions; neither one of you is keen on breaking the kiss. Eventually, you end up sitting on his lap, legs wrapped around his waist, he sits on the kitchen floor. Shifting, you can feel the hardness of his cock beneath the fabric of the khakis.
Your hands reach for the hem of your shirt. They don't make it far, Stan's hands gripping your wrist. He's somehow even stronger than you expected, your stomach flipping at the pressure. He breaks the kiss, leaning his forehead against yours, panting. You're expecting him to say something filthy, something that's going to make you squirm in his lap.
"Say your alphabet," is what he says instead.
What.
"What?" You ask.
"Say your alphabet," he repeats. "Not sleepin' with ya if you're not in the right state of mind."
"I walked, didn't I?"
"You fell."
Okay, fair enough.
So, you recite your alphabet. It's deliberate, and it's not too slow to cause any concern. As soon as you finish, he releases your wrists and grabs your shirt. It's the fastest your shirt has ever been removed, Stan's face immediately between your tits as soon as he's able. The stubble scratches as your skin, laughing slightly as he plants kisses against your chest. His hands reach around to your back, and you expect him to have trouble with it.
It's off before you can even blink.
"You're suspiciously good at that," you say.
"Aww, you jealous?" He laughs, sliding the bra off and tossing it somewhere behind him. "Don't worry, ain't nobody else gettin' the treatment you are."
"That's what you tell m-" you're cut off, Stan's tongue flicking against your nipple.
"Sayin' somethin', sweetheart?" He glances up, not giving you a chance to speak before he presses his mouth against your left nipple. You grab his shoulders, squirming against him as his tongue swirls around the hardened flesh. One arm wraps around your waist, grinding you against him while his free hand finds your other breast, kneading the flesh in his hand.
Your body feels like it's on fire under his touch. He plays with how much pressure he can put on you, rolling a nipple between his fingers while he sucks mercilessly on your other. Sweat beads on your brow, bucking against him while whimpering sounds escape you. "C'mon, sweetheart." He takes his mouth away from you, the cold air assaulting wet flesh. He playfully bucks his hips up, his cock grinding against you for just a moment. "Wanna hear what a good job I'm doin," he changes the arm that holds you against him, his other hand rising and brushing against the spit slickened skin.
Between the cold and his rough, calloused hand, you feel like you're already on the edge. "You aren't done already, are ya?"
"N-no," you mumble, tilting your head back and moaning as his mouth closes around the other nipple. Judging from the way his tongue flicks against your skin, he certainly appreciates the reaction. The way he sucks against your skin is greedy, teeth nipping at the skin. You're going to have bruises, you've accepted that. Your hands move from his shoulders to his hair, running through the gray, surprisingly soft, hair.
Using everything you can muster, you grind yourself against him. He groans against your skin, the grip on your skin tightening. He pulls away from you with an obscene sound, the words practically a growl in his throat. "Where's the bed?"
"Down the hall, last door on the right."
He gives pause for a moment, thinking. "Too far." He decides, aloud. Before you can process what he says, you're suddenly scooped up. You wrap your arms around him, tits bouncing as he hoists you around him. You leave the kitchen, and in a few feet, you're tossed unceremoniously on the couch. Your hands find the button of your jeans, getting them half way down your thighs before Stan takes over. They're off before you can even blink, Stan settling between your thighs. He picks one up, hooking your leg over his shoulder while he presses a thumb against your soaked panties.
You're already trembling, and your entire bodyĀ jumpsĀ as he presses his thumb against your clit, rotating it in smallĀ painfullyĀ slow circles. He leans over you, grinning. "You want somethin'?"
"You know what I want," you breathe, fingers gripping the couch cushion.
"'Fraid I don't, sweetheart. You're gonna have to tell me." He lets up on the pressure, eliciting a whine from you. "I want your fingers," you reach out, gently touching his arm.
He's happy to comply. "Wasn't so hard, was it?" There's that smug fuckin' tone in his voice again. You expect him to pull off your underwear, but it doesn't seem like he's patient enough for that. Instead, he pulls them to the side, his middle and ring fingers sliding up and down against your wet cunt.
"W-wait!" You sit up some as he presses against you. "It's, uh..." you clear your throat. "It's been a while." You feel almost embarrassed to admit it, but with how thick his fingers are, and two of them? You don't wanna run the risk of getting hurt. He pauses, offering just the middle one to you in compromise. You make a face, and he laughs before he raises the finger to his mouth. He presses it against his tongue before dipping it back between your thighs. "Don't think that would've been an issue," you murmur as you feel him begin to slide into you.
You tilt your face against the couch arm, moaning as he buries the finger inside of you. "Bein' careful doesn't hurt," that's true, and you do honestly appreciate the sentiment. He moves his hand in a steady rhythm, the other hand keeping your legs spread apart. You bite your lip, and after a few minutes, he judges that you're ready for another and adds the ringer finger inside of you.
It'sĀ thick, and stretches you in the best possible way. "Feels good, don't it?" He leans over you, his face just a few inches away from yours. You don't know why it slips out - maybe you lapse back into what you were taught when you were younger. "Y-yes, sir." You pant the words out.
Stan's fingers stutter for just a moment before he thrusts them back into you, a moan immediately muffled by his lips against yours. He curls his fingers in the same way as before, the way that made your body shake like a leaf in his hand. "Like the way that sounds comin' outta you," he says the words against your neck, pressing kisses against your rapid pulse.
You can't handle it anymore. "Stanley," your voice teeters on the edge of breaking, fingers twisting in the Hawaiian shirt fabric. "F-fuck, Stanley, I-I.." the words die in your throat as he suddenly removes his fingers from your cunt. "W-what?" The words come out a whine, grabbing the shirt tighter and moving your hips to try and find his hand. "Stan," you groan.
"I can't have you all tired out before we get to the good stuff," he tells you. His hands move to the belt, making quick work of it. He slips off the khakis, positioning himself between your legs again before pressing the shaft of his cock against you, sliding against the slickness. You look between your legs, the head of his cock dipping in against your cunt before his hand tilts it up, bumping against your overly sensitive clit.
You're dizzy, just like before. Your head swims, biting your lip as he teases you constantly, angling himself and barely pushing himself in before pulling out. "You're lookin' desperate, sweetheart." He does a poor job of concealing his own desire, unable to take his eyes off your body. "Fuck, you're drippin'." He grins at you. "Still got it, huh?"
You suddenly brace your arms against his shoulders, pushing him back against the couch and straddling his lap. "You talk too much," the words come out in one rushed breath as you reach between your legs and grab the base of his cock, holding him steady as you bury him inside of you. A stifled moan escapes you as your body adjusts to his size. One hand grabs your waist, stilling any movement you might make, while the other grabs your jaw, forcing you to look at him. "You alright?" You nod your head, your lips slightly pursed from how he squeezes your face.
"Good," he breathes, releasing your face. His hand drops to your chest, holding your breast. As soon as you roll your hips forward, Stan can't keep his mouth shut. "Shit, fuck," his eyes are half-lidded, head resting against the back of the couch as you ride him. "You're tight as aĀ fuckinĀ drum, and hotter than hell." You smile, bracing your hands against the couch as you snap your hips forward, rising and falling in a steady rhythm.
Both of his hands are on your tits, thumb brushing over the nipples. "Perfect," he mumbles out. Sweat beads across your body, Stan's hand eventually traveling downwards and finding your clit again. The moan rips from your throat as the calloused finger pads press against you, an almost aggressive rub against you - but it's exactly what your body wants. "There ya are," he practically purrs the words out as you lean down.
Your lips catch his, sloppy kisses without much care, as long as you can kiss him. Your burning in every sense of the word, body and nerves as Stan grabs your ass, timing your movements with his own thrusts. He somehow manages to go evenĀ deeperĀ inside of you, each thrust sending another wave of pleasure through you. "Stanley!" His name is barely above a whisper as he suddenly pushes you back against the cushions, back on top of you.
He takes a leg, hiking it over his shoulder and leaning over you, your body curling slightly. His pace is merciless, whatever words you had before devolving into incoherent moans of pleasure as they spill from your lips. It's when the orgasm wrecks your body that you swear to God, you see literalĀ stars in your vision as you cum. Your body tenses, nails digging into his forearms so hard that you're a little worried you may draw blood. Stanley, somehow, has enough sense to pull himself from you, his cock sliding against you before he cums.
Thick, milky ropes land on your stomach and tits as he slows his thrusts, breathing heavily before slumping down over you. You're catching your own breath, a hand raising to his back and gently running up and down the now sweat soaked shirt.
"You good?" He asks, his voice somehow hoarser than before.
You can't really respond, offering a thumbs up in response.
"Huh, fucked you so good you lost the ability to talk huh?" Weakly, and playfully, you slap him.
"Asshole." He snorts, removing himself from you and sitting back against the couch. He looks at you. Then the mess on you. "Where's your shower?"
"Bathroom, which is in the bedroom." You yawn. Stan picks the boxes out of his khakis, sliding them on before bending beside you. "Put yer arms around me," you stare at him a moment. "C'mon, before I change my mind." You do as he says, looping your arms around his neck as his hands slide under your sweaty body, hoisting you up.
"Not too much for you, is it, old man?" You laugh, leaning your head against his shoulder.
"I can still drop you, ya know?"
"Mhmm." You mumblr. He feigns the drop, your grip tightening on him.
"Gotcha." He winks at you, but at this point, you're too tired to really fight back. Stan manages to open the door to your room and find the bathroom, setting you on the closed toilet. He reaches into the shower, turning the knobs and keeping his hand in for a moment. "You want it on the hotter or colder side?"
"Uh, hotter." The question catches you off guard.
"Figures, every woman wants it hot as hell." He adjusts the knob behind the curtain, taking it back and shaking off the water. "What?" He asks, raising a brow as you make a face at him.
"Just, uh..." again, you're trying to avoid sounding like an asshole. "Didn't expect aftercare?
"I may be a lot of things, and one of those things may be an asshole, but I'm notĀ thatĀ big of an asshole." He sets his hands on his hips and you can't help but snort a giggle. "Up." he tells you, offering an arm. You stand on wobbly legs, leaning against him.
"Not sure how this is gonna work." You admit. "Kinda feel like a newborn deer."
"I'm gonna help you," he says. "Also, get a new metaphor."
"That's a simile."
"Oh, look atĀ me, I paid attention in English." He mocks in a joking tone. "Just.. stand here." You do as your told, watching as he unbuttons his top and shakes it off, revealing the sweat covered girdle that's still wrapped around his waist. "You kept that on the whole time?" That's...kind of impressive.
"Done a lot more uncomfortable things, sweetheart." He says. He drops the girdle on your bathroom floor, gesturing for you to get in the shower. You do, Stan offering his arm for support as he follows you in shortly after. He keeps an arm around you, just below your breasts, in case you slip.
It does make you feel safe. You take the washcloth, soaping it up and slowly begin to scrub your body. The hot water feels amazing on your tired body, breathing in the smell of your soap and shampoo. When you're happily scrubbed, you turn in Stan's arms. "Your turn." You say.
"What?"
"You need to get clean too," you tell him. You don't let him protest, reaching over to your shampoo and squirting a pump into your palm and scrubbing it onto his scalp. There may have been a moment of protest, but it falls off quickly. His eyes shut, letting you work as you comb through his thinning hair. You take a few steps back, turning as carefully as you can so that he's under the stream of water. You work diligently, ensuring all the soap is off before you apply the conditioner and repeat it. He's strangely quiet the entire time, and yet you notice, he'sĀ relaxed.Ā It's the first time you think you've ever seen his body this loose.
You grab the washcloth again, soaping it up again before pressing it against his chest. Now that there's no risk of soap in his eyes, Stan cracks one of his eyes open and looks down at you. "You're sweet, y'know?"
"Mhm." You hum in response.
"Seriously," he says. His thumb and forefinger catch your chin, tilting you up to meet his gaze. He leans down, the kiss tender, soft.
There's no intent behind it than affection. Somehow, it makes you feel hotter than what happened in the kitchen. You know you have the dopiest smile on your face, but at the moment, you don't care. You drag the rag over his body, his stomach, everywhere you can as he holds you close to him. When he's finally rinsed, he turns off the shower and carefully helps you step out. A few towels later, you're dry, warm, and exhausted.
You have a few oversized t-shirts that you used to clean the house in, and you manage to find one that fits Stan. There's no way he's making it home tonight. In your own pajamas, you climb into bed as Stan sits on the side of it. "Oh this thing isĀ wayĀ comfier than your couch, no offense." He tests the springs, looking at you. "Maybe next time we'll make it to the bed."
"I'll hold you to that," you laugh. "Not tonight, though."
"What a shame," he winks. "You, uh, actually fine with me sleeping in here?" You're getting comfortable beneath the sheets, resting your head on the pillow.
"Stan," you start. "You were literally inside me. You can sleep next to me."
"You'd be surprised how often those two things don't go hand in hand," he remarks off-handedly. Your face creases in worry, about to sit up before he reaches out and pushes you back down. "Story for another day." He pulls the sheets back, sliding in beside you and staring up at the ceiling. A shiver runs through you, scooting closer to him and hooking a leg over his. He raises an arm, putting it behind you so that you're able to rest your head against his chest. "Don't get used to this," you know he doesn't mean a word of that.
"Goodnight, Stan." You stretch, placing a kiss on his cheek. You settle back down, shutting your eyes.
Gently, you feel the ghost of a kiss on the top of your head. "Goodnight."
You fall asleep to his heartbeat, something you think you'd enjoy getting used to
ME AGAIN hi hi nothing extravagant as i donāt want to overwhelm you, but iāve been rereading your works again and iām just DYING to know your personal headcanons for stan, either sfw, nsfw or both!!! thank you for your work youāre amazing ššš - š
THIS IāVE BEEN THINKING ABOUT THISā¦ thank you so much for this ask what a super fun idea!!!! here goes!!!
under the cut: sfw and nsfw stan headcanonsā¦ as your boyfriend!! (iām blushing) (no gendered pronouns used)
fic rec at the bottom :)
sfw:
big on chivalry! says he was raised ārightā and heās a āgentlemanā etc. holds open doors for you and offers his arm instead of holding hands. also really big on flowers or other gifts
pointedly uses the word ādateā instead of just inviting you out: āgreat! itās a date!ā vs āletās go out tonightā (yes he thinks thereās a difference)
canāt keep his hands off you! always needs to be touching your waist, your back, your wrist, or at least standing close enough to know youāre right next to him
cheesy flirt!! loves the yawn and stretch to put his arm over you. constantly uses his bank of pick-up lines on you: ādid it hurt?... when you fell from heaven?ā and āyou got a map? cuz i just got lost in your eyes!ā probably studied a book of them in high school
that being said stan gets so easily flustered itās hilarious HAHAHA the second you flirt back or even give him a smile and a Look up and down heās sweating
never admits that he gets flustered because heās used to the idea of being a Big Macho Man. but he knows you know that he knows how easily you can make him melt
enjoys you playing with his face like feeling up his jaw and cheeks and nose and mouth. it makes him feel pretty!
loves holding you in his lapā¦ will refuse to admit his legs are numb in favor of hugging you around your waist and nuzzling the back of your head
loves loves loves teasing you! like grabbing things out of your hands and holding them high up, grabbing your waist and holding you hostage when you try to stand or leave the room, constantly asking āwhatās in it for me?ā whenever you ask him to cut it out or do something simple like pass your phone. but stan will never ever say no to a kiss
nsfw:
obvious in all my fics but stan cannot shut up. he loves to talk during sex and loves to make you talk back: begging for him, asking āpolitelyā for him to touch you, telling him how good you feel
MAJOR praise kink. huge. the reason heās so chatty during sex is to make sure you want the things he wants. he craves the validation that he makes you feel good. LOVES to hear you moan and make noise for him
BIG SERVICE GUY!!! loves going down on you. literally moans into you because he loves the taste and how good it feels for you. probably came in his pants once or twice just from palming himself during it
loves to overstimulate you. always reminds you to literally shove his head away if itās too much because he gets so lost in how loud you get
heās kind of gross lol heāll wipe his sex hands all up on his clothes or sheets and not bother washing his hands unless you tell him to
BIG kisser. lots of tongue. he doesnāt have much experience kissing so heās really sloppy with it especially during sex when heās trying to kiss you and fuck you at the same time
tits guy! doesnāt even matter whether you have tits or not. he loves them and loves nipples in his mouth especially when you arch your chest up to him
loves coming inside
heās so gross! if he doesnāt come in you heāll come ON you and smear it into your skin. the messier the better
aftercare is so important to him after meeting youā¦ he doesnāt have much experience with it himself but he adores you and canāt help himself from snuggling up even if youāre complaining about how gross the sheets are
inspo from Must See: Mystery Shack by guilty_pleasures_abound but he definitely gets generous after a good fuck. will run out to get you water or snacks or just some wipes to get you cleaned up!!
all done! this was so fun! would love more hc requests whether it be for more stan-centric ones or other characters/scenarios!!
āā .ā¦ [ FIC ]: can i really stay here? [ part two ]
[ a continuation of part one ]
mullet stanley pines x innkeeper reader
tags: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, sfw
word count: 1875
Ėā§ĖĀ° ą¼ āļ½”Ė
in any other circumstances, you wouldnāt even dare to imagine holding a man you had just met the same day.
but stan ā¦ was different.
when your eyes first locked with his from across the counter, you could tell that he was hurting, and badly. he was trying so hard to cover it up, and it worked for the most part ā after all, up until now, nobody had cared about him enough to see through his facade.
but you saw straight through him. and not only that, you actually did something about it. you offered to care for his needs, at your own expense.
his father only ever saw him as an expense.
so, there you were, sitting at the bar, holding onto the maroon fabric of his jacket as he trembled like a leaf.
the scent of cigarette smoke and pine needles was strong in your nose as he buried his face into your shoulder. you could feel his stubble scratching against your skin.
there was a part of you that wanted to speak up and comfort him, but ultimately you decided against it. you didnāt quite know enough about him to be able to speak to his situation.
after a few minutes, stan seemed to be calming down. his breathing became even, although he was still clinging onto you tightly.
āi ā¦ā
his voice was cracked and raspy.
āi ā¦ screwed up. i donāt ā¦ know how iām gonna fix it.ā
your brow furrowed as you listened to him.
āyāknow, stan ā¦ i donāt know what youāre going through. but can you do me one favor?ā
ā... yeah?ā
ālook at me.ā
slowly, the brunet lifted his head, pulling himself back just enough to be able to look at you. his eyes were red and puffy, but his gaze was sincere.
you looked back at him, determined. āiām gonna help you out.ā
stan didnāt know how to react. he swallowed a lump in his throat, scanning your face as if to check whether you were lying to him or not.
ā... you donāt ā¦ hafta do that. i brought it on myselfāā
āi donāt care.ā
his eyes widened.
āif i can keep somebody from a worse fate, then iāll do it. let me give you a place to stay, even if itās just for a little while.ā you smiled warmly, squeezing his arm for emphasis. āyou shouldnāt have to feel like your life means nothing.ā
āā¦ youāre an angel.ā
those words made you blush. āiāi wouldnāt say thatāā
uh-oh, heās smirking now. chuckling lowly, he let go of you so that he could cross his arms over his chest.
āwhat, are you tryna tell me youāre not sent from heaven? think about it. youāre saving my biscuits here, toots.ā there was serious gratitude in his tone, despite his teasing. at least he seemed to be in a better mood. āi think iāll hafta call you that more often, yeah? angel.ā
you laughed nervously, trying desperately to distract yourself from your red hot face. āreally? hāhow interesting ā¦ā
stan snickered again, gazing at you for a moment longer with fondness dancing in his brown eyes. then, glancing at the wall clock, he realized the time. ādamn, itās midnight. i should probably stop bothering you ānd get to bed, huh?ā
āhuh, it is late ā¦ i should sleep, too.ā
āthen itās decided. iāll see ya tomorrow.ā he hummed, standing from his seat and stretching out his arms before cracking a soft smile and turning around to walk towards his room.
you were left to watch him leave, your eyes following his footsteps as he made his way back up the staircase.
approximately eight hours later, you awoke to the sunlight gently filtering through your bedside window, causing your eyelids to flutter open.
the events of last night came flooding back into your mind.
i guess iāll be seeing a whole lot more of him ā¦
sitting up in bed, you yawned, rubbing your face sleepily.
āmm ā¦ what time is it ā¦ā
the alarm clock on your nightstand read 8:02 am.
shoot, i oversleptāoh, wait. itās my day off.
that little fact was enough to put you in a good mood for the morning. humming happily to yourself, you began to get ready for the day, picking out a comfortable outfit and a few accessories.
descending two flights of stairs, you wandered into the lobby of your inn, greeting a few different patrons and employees with a cheerful wave. it was breakfast rush hour for the kitchen, and you could catch glimpses of your executive chef running to and fro behind the bar.
he seems pretty busy today. maybe iāll grab a bite to eat somewhere? hmm, but the question is where ā¦
just then, your train of thought was interrupted by the sound of someone calling out your name.
you whipped around to locate the voiceās source, and there was stan, walking towards you at a leisurely pace. a radiant grin broke out on your face.
āstan! hey, good morning! howād you sleep?ā
raising a brow, he chuckled at your energy. āwell, good morning, sunshine. i slept like a baby, thanks tā you.ā
āah, donāt mention it.ā you smiled, placing your hands on your hips. āiām just glad you could sleep.ā
the two of you looked at each other for a second.
why did his stare make you feel butterflies in your chest?
probably unimportant ā¦ā¦ā¦ā¦ right? yeah.
clearing your throat, you averted your gaze before you started to blush again. āso, um ā¦ have you had anything to eat yet?ā
ānah. i was just about to, though.ā to be frank, he had totally forgotten that he had access to breakfast until you just mentioned it.
āsounds gooāā
you paused mid-sentence, remembering something.
āactually ā¦ i was planning on eating out for breakfast today. would you wanna join me? since the kitchen is bustling and all ā¦ā
oh, wow. did you really just ask him out to breakfast? it didnāt hit you until after you had said it out loud that it could be considered that way. oops. was that weird? were you weird? augh.
stan had half a mind to tease you senseless for how cute that was, but after thinking about it, he decided against it. he wouldnāt wanna ruin his chances at having breakfast with you.
āyou kiddinā? iād love that.ā he nodded his head, flattered and amused. ānot many people can say theyāve had breakfast with an angel, ya know.ā
your ears turned red.
i walked right into that one. darn you and your smooth talking ā¦
āoh, letās just go already.ā embarrassed, you grabbed his wrist, pulling him along towards the front door. stan laughed heartily, allowing himself to be led.
it wasnāt long before you arrived at one of your favorite diners in town, known for their homey atmosphere and good breakfast. walking into the building, you were met with the smell of eggs, bacon, and coffee. the two of you breathed it in simultaneously, sighing.
āreminds me of breakfast as a kid.ā stanley mused, thinking of the days when he and ford would poke at each otherās food and giggle. you smiled, watching his expression.
ācāmon, this way.ā you beckoned him over towards the table you usually sat at, and a familiar waitress walked over to you as you settled in.
āgood morning, loyal patron~ i see youāve brought a plus one today, yes?ā
āuhāyes. donāt go jumping to conclusions, though ā¦ā
the waitress grinned innocently. āof course. now, what can i get for you two?ā
stan wound up ordering pancakes with bacon and eggs, while you settled on some waffles and a mug of coffee. you could have sworn you saw that waitress giggling to her coworker about something as she went on her way, but you shook your head to yourself in an attempt to ignore it. instead, you directed your attention towards the man sitting across from you.
āso, iām guessinā youāre a regular here?ā he tilted his head, leaning back against his seat. there was a smirk plastered onto his face that you couldnāt quite decipher.
āyou would guess correctly.ā you hummed, picking up the salt shaker on the table and fidgeting with it absentmindedly. āhave you ever been?ā
a rumbling sigh escaped his lips.
ānah ā¦ iām not exactly from around here.ā
your gaze was trained on him. so far, heās kept a laid-back demeanor, not to mention that little smirk that drives you insaneābut you couldnāt shake the feeling that there was way more depth to his character than he let on.
āyeah? whereāre you from?ā
ā...ā
there was a brief silence. his chocolate brown eyes, warmly lit by the sun, stared into your soul.
āiām from new jersey.ā
your eyebrows shot up. āfrom jersey? wow ā¦ youāre far from home, then.ā
āitās not home anymore.ā
you opened your mouth to say something, but closed it again. stan was staring out the window, a frown creasing his face.
āi ā¦ sorry. sensitive topic?ā
he turned back to you, a faint blush appearing on his face. āuh ā¦ well, yeah, i guess ā¦ itās okay.ā
ācome again?ā
ā... itās, uhāiāiām okay, if itās you.ā
he was a darker shade of red now, scratching awkwardly at his stubble. he felt so ā¦ vulnerable. but somehow, he was okay with it.
at that moment, the waitress came back with plates of food. āorder up!ā
you watched as you were served, salivating as you saw golden waffles covered in butter and syrup smiling up at you. it didnāt take long for the both of you to start digging in.
ā... wow.ā after the first few bites, stan had stars in his eyes. āit tastes just like maās.ā
āwas your mom a good cook?ā
he snorted. āwell, she wasnāt exactly a michelin star chef, but she could make some damn good flapjacks. at least, i sure thought so.ā putting another forkful of pancake into his mouth, he chewed thoughtfully. you simply propped your head on one hand, watching.
āi always told her she could sell āem for a fortune.ā
his tone was soft with nostalgia.
āshe just laughed. probāly cause i was five when i told her that.ā
āthey mustāve been really something, huh?ā
āthey were. all my life, i dreamt of selling somethinā as good as that. i havenāt stopped trying, either.ā
he scoffed.
āmost of āem have been a bust.ā
you hummed softly in understanding.
āyouāre still trying, though. thatās worth more than any failed effort.ā
he looked up from his plate. ā... you think so?ā
āsure i do.ā lifting your mug, you took a sip of coffee. āperseverance is worth a lot.ā
stan could barely handle your uplifting words. his heart was squeezing in his chest. covering his flustered face with one hand, he leaned against the table, grumbling.
ā... an angel ā¦ God sent an angel.ā
āwhat?ā
āwhat? nothing.ā
a few hours later, you were walking side by side back to the inn. stan couldnāt help but admire the way the fall breeze tousled your hair, and the gentle smile on his face was speaking his thoughts out loud.
heād never known that somebody this beautiful could even exist.
maybe ...
maybe he hasnāt hit rock bottom quite yet.
end
author's note:
thank you for all the love on this fic !!! :D
part three ....????? any part three hopefuls out there?
i gotta keep cooking.
if you have any fic or headcanon requests, hit up my askbox! <3
tag list: @icouldntthinkofanythingclever @seahorrorz @blustalker @hay-needle @phanmai1002
ācw: reader having afab anatomy but gn! reader otherwise, unprotected sex, creampies and cumshots
thinking about how the ways dazai cums depending on his mood ā
if he's feeling particularly playful he'll cum shallow enough in your walls for it to easily be pushed back out, only to gently press it back inside with gentle fingers, eyes focused on your soiled skin, marked his with his cum, teasingly suggesting he fucks his load deeper into you next time (until his dick gets hard again, and he's just full on fingering you until your cum mixes with his in a creamy sticky mess he just has to clean off of you).
when he's kind of needy or particularly worked up he plunges himself so deep within you that you curl up against him, coating your cervix with the thick fluid, trembling i love you's spoken against your lips, or neck, hushed promises of forever spoken between soft kisses as he comes down.
when you're both being brats he'll pull out and shoot sticky cum right across your folds, coating you in his mess, using his sensitive length to rub it in even more, overstimming you both until another messy orgasm is shot across your tummy, his pleasure drunk smugness not once leaving even as he shudders against you, dick twitching violently between your puffy folds.
Sorry, my last ask wasnt a request! It was a question on how YOU'D think it would go, a sorta quick think story line because i wish to draw something related to it. :)
A/n: ohohoho, smutty drawings based on my smutty writingsš. Here you go (tag me then, I wanna see your drawings)
Pairing: Polnareff x gn! Reader, Avdol x gn! Reader
Warnings: NSFW, readerās gender not mentioned
Starting off with our dearly loved Avdol!
Avdol is kinda old-style, nothing too extreme will happen in bed with this man. But that doesnāt mean he doesnāt have any kinks, and his biggest one is dominance - this man loves to be in charge and rarely lets you rule the process, even in poses like cowgirl where you obviously have more control, his strong arms will guide your hips, establishing the pace he wants. Heās not a huge softie like Polnareff is, but Muhammad prefers things in bed to be pleasant, not painful. That means that things such as slapping, choking or facefucking are big no-no. But even though, Avdol is not opposed to using some light bondage on you, mostly itās hand restraining, tying your wrists to the headboard of the bed with the nicest silk ribbon so that your soft skin doesnāt get injured
Manhandles. You. A lot. This man is buff and strong af, he can pick you up like you weight nothing, so that goes to bedroom. Avdol can fold your smaller body in whatever position he wants, changing by that the angle of penetration, hitting that one spot inside you especially hard with his huge cock. Calls you the sweetest things like āhabibiā and āya rouhiā while literally fucking the soul out of you. Is that a secret that Muhammad has a thing for temperature play? I think not. Especially wax play, thereās something about the way you squirm and whine so prettily when hot wax is poured on your sensitive nipples, turning you into a boneless goo underneath Avdol
Now to Polnareff
Polnarreff is a cliche of a Frenchman - heās passionate but gentle at the same time, putting partnerās pleasure above his own. Jean is vanilla on his own, things like impact play, bondage or anything brutal in general are just not his cup of tea. Sometimes in a heat of moment he may slap your ass lightly, but only if he knows that youāre into this stuff (honestly, itād be a poor parody of a spank, it brings absolutely no pain, only to make a smacking sound)
He loves to blindfold you so all your senses go x3, slowly trailing his fingers down your ribs, watching in awe how your stomach tenses. How your lush lips fall apart and shameless moans pour past them, how you spread your legs wide for him, ready to take everything Polnareff gives (oh honey, believe he has A LOT to give you baby). Jean loves long long foreplay, edging the hell out of you and himself, getting to the main part only when you both are literally trembling in anticipation. Sometimes it seems like blonde enjoys foreplay even more than the penetration part
Polās pace is always slow and sensual, his thick cock deep into your quivering hole, filling you up so right. And if you think that heāll pull out - youāre wrong, because Polnareff lives for creampieng you, then watching his cum slowly dripping out of your wrecked hole. Is also a huge fan of oral, and Jean prefers giving over receiving. God, this man can stay for hours between your thighs, eating you out/sucking you off while his thick fingers work out your little entrance for his girthy cock. And be sure that Pol would lick off his own sperm leaking from your used hole afterwards
āHe is most familiar from Ovid's narrative poem Metamorphoses, in which Pygmalion was a sculptor who fell in love with a statue he had carved.ā
Pair: Gyutaro x F!Reader (Gender-Neutral Version Here)
Word Count: 10.9k+
Rating: 18+, NSFW, Explicit Smut with a side of plot. As a treat.
Premise: Working as an independent artist in the Entertainment District, word of your work catches the ear of the infamous Oiran Warabihime. After working with the intimidating woman, your mind is plagued by dreams of a twisted and strangely-shaped manlike being. His unusual form captivates you so greatly you find yourself willing to draw little else; your obsession with your newfound inspiration spiraling deeper, and deeper into depravity.
Content/Trigger Warnings:
DubCon: Uneven Power Dynamics, Reader is a captive. Slight Coercion.
Yandere themes
DEGRADATION/HUMILIATION. LIKE A LOT: If youāre someone who makes/likes a lot of self-insert content it may hit a little too personally so keep that in mind! Daki and Gyutaro are bullies.
Canon-Typical Violence: Gyutaro kills an unnamed person and eats them. Gyutaro threatens Reader.
Not a TW but the Reader is just a liiiil dumb to make the plot work lmao
Sexual Content: Dacryphilia, Slut-Shaming, Feelings of Shame, Spit Stuff, Light Nipple/Clit Torture, Non-Negotiated Kinks, Breeding/Trapping Kink, Size Difference (Gyutaro calls Reader a small/little human but that doesnāt mean Reader is actually small. Also his dick is huge bc I said so), Creampie, Loss of Virginity, Marathon Sex, Premature Ejaculation, Oral, Vaginal
Notes: I wanted to write a fic where the readerās attraction to Gyutaro is very blatant, so blatant that he canāt really doubt it even if he doesnāt understand or agree. This is also somewhat inspired by all the posts that ponder āwhat if Gyutaro could see all the people that simp for him?ā
BY CLICKING āREAD MOREā YOU ARE ASSUMING RESPONSIBILITY FOR READING AND UNDERSTANDING THE AFOREMENTIONED WARNINGS.
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT - YOU WILL BE BLOCKED
You try to calm your nerves as you follow the older woman down a maze of hallways, focusing on keeping your breath even and not dropping your supplies. Today marks the beginning of the most important commission of your career, painting the famous Oiran, Warabihime.
You have worked in the Entertainment District for less than a year now, painting portraits of various people, most often women or couples, steadily gaining traction via word-of-mouth recommendations and praise. Supposedly, good word of your work had spread far enough to catch the attention of the famed woman herself. So when you received the news that you had been summoned to a meeting with Warabihime, you felt your heart drop with excitement and dread.
There are rumors about the woman. Stories of her foul temper that is easily trampled upon. Tales of her incredibly delicate sensibilities that with the slightest slip-up will inspire her wrath. Whispers that she alone is responsible for many missing people--or so your clients would swear to you in hushed voices.
Human anatomy has always been your favorite subject to study, paired with your deep desire to portray the more salacious aspects of life makes you the perfect candidate for capturing the risque lifestyles within the Entertainment District. You are not at all shaken or bashful when it comes to painting the nude figures of your clients, lest they be alone or draped over an equally naked lover.
Your thoughts are a flurry to navigate, darting from one possible outcome to the next.
What if I am unable to adequately capture her beauty?
What if she hates my work and ruins my reputation?
What if she finds me irritating and casts me aside, or worse?
Your anxious thoughts are interrupted by the kind woman suddenly coming to a halt. Dread seeps deep into your stomach when she announces you've arrived. She lowers herself to her knees and waits for you to follow suit before cautiously calling out.
"My lady, the painter you requested is here," she says softly and respectfully with her weak voice. You hear an irritated sigh from the other side of the screen door.
"Of course! Please, come in," a surprisingly sweet voice calls back. The older woman briefly shoots you a worried glance before following the voice's directions.
Having never seen the Oiran yourself, you cannot say you are shocked once she is revealed to you, but you are still taken aback by her beauty nonetheless. Her beauty is sharp, especially in her eyes. Her voice is kind as she speaks, but those unusual eyes are cold and unfeeling. You numbly listen as the older woman and the Oiran exchange pleasantries; you bow deeply when introduced.
Once the woman leaves the two of you, the pleasant facade disappears entirely.
'Well?" She questions in a sharp tone, "why are you just sitting there? Get started already," she snaps with a wave of her hand. You shoot a quick 'yes, ma'am' and scramble to get your supplies set up.
Her irritation rolls off in waves. You can practically feel the heat of her ire as she impatiently watches you struggle, like a cobra watching a frantic mouse. Once you are ready to begin, you simply stare at the woman before you. She is seated on an ornate cushion, staring back at you expectantly. Not wanting to anger her more, you decide the pose will suffice and set to work.
You take a fat piece of charcoal and roughly sketch out her head, the shape of her hair, and the small portion of her body that will be included. Every time your eye catches hers, you have to resist outwardly flinching.
Why is she so scary? It's not like she's done anything aside from being a little rude. Still, you can't shake the overwhelming fear you feel in her presence.
Once your base is complete, you begin mixing paints to capture the colors you see in her flesh, her hair, her robes, and of course, those haunting eyes.
You start with the skin because that's the part you enjoy painting most and feel the most confident with your skills. As you work on bringing Warabihime's likeness to your canvas, you can't help but appreciate her beauty again. It's no wonder she rose to such prominence; you can't recall seeing anyone like her before. A part of you feels plain, self-conscious even, but you push those feelings aside. It's not as if you need to be beautiful to be a skilled painter.
But it probably wouldn't hurt, either.
"The face you make while concentrating is rather ugly," the woman remarks suddenly, having been silent until now. You pause, unsure of what to say in response. Before you can even begin to consider a reply, she continues. "Are you married?"
"No, I am not," you reply truthfully. Having always been so focused on honing your skills and career, you never bothered with romantic endeavors. A haughty laugh is your reply.
"Of course, you aren't; you aren't pretty enough to marry," her eyes narrowed with a sick glee, excitedly anticipating your reaction. You try to not let the insult get to you.
"Well," you begin after a drawn-out silence, "if I was anywhere near as pretty as you, I probably wouldn't be able to paint as much because people would want to paint me instead," you force a good-natured tone despite her insults. "I don't mind not being beautiful; I'm just glad I get to see the beauty and try my best to recreate what I see." Your explanation is partially the truth, partly a lie. What woman doesn't desire to be more beautiful? You can't ignore that it drastically changes how people treat
you.
She scoffs at your reply but falls silent once more. Perhaps she was trying to goad you into overreacting so she could lash out at you? Maybe she's testing you.
She'sā¦odd, you finally decide. Warabihime behaves unlike any other person you've encountered in your life. Not just by her extreme rudeness but her entire demeanor. It feels like she eyes you hungrily and not in a sexual connotation. Genuine hunger, like you're no different from a steaming rack of ribs drizzled in sauce.
But as the hours pass while you work, you begin to feel more comfortable under her heavy stare, less fearful, less wary. Finally, you're able to work in peace. Once the time for your session draws near to an end, you have finished most of her face and laid down flat colors for nearly everything else.
Save for one part: her eyes.
You've been deliberating whether you should capture them as you truly see themācold, hungry, spiteful, and hatefulāor if you should adapt them into something more becoming.
A voice calls from behind the screen to Warabihime that she is needed soon. After the sound of receding footsteps fades, she demands to see what you have completed thus far. You turn your canvas to face her, doubtful that she'll understand that it is still very early in the painting.
She huffs through her nostrils. "I suppose it's too soon to say. I guess I shouldn't have expected some plain, boring nobody like you to work quickly," she grumbles as she raises from her seated spot. She walks over to you, bending over to reach eye-level before gripping you by your jaw. "I expect to see much more done by the end of our next meeting," the 'or else' unnecessary to say. You can feel it in her burning gaze.
"Yes, ma'am," you squeak, utterly terrified. She forces you to hold the stare a little longer before ultimately releasing you and carrying on as if nothing had happened.
"We will meet at the same time next week in this same room," she says airly as she leaves; she glances over her shoulder to add icily, "do not be late."
The door slides shut, and you're left alone with your supplies and your rapidly beating heart.
How the hell are you going to survive working with this woman?
The next time you meet with Warabihime, you're ready. You arrive slightly early, you do warm-ups and scratch the muscles in your wrist and fingers before even leaving your home, and you begin working immediately once you are welcomed into her room.
In the days leading up to this meeting, you had practiced capturing her likeness from memory so that you could work more quickly from muscle memory. You are prepared for her hurtful words this time, and they do not slow you down. Her once frightening stare is now familiar, and you brush it off effortlessly.
Feeling confident, you decide to go the path of painting her eyes as you truly see them and put forth a significant amount of your effort to replicate them. She's a vain woman, so you doubt it will displease her.
By the time your session ends, Warabihime herself is practically complete, save for the background and the finer details of her clothing and jewelry.
Just as she did the previous week, she demands you show your progress. When you turn the canvas, you are not met with the sneer you saw last time. Instead, she rises from her seat to take a closer look. A wicked smile curls on her painted lips.
"Perhaps I underestimated you," she says, "you're bold." Her cold gaze slithers from the painting to meet yours. "Nobody has painted such an honest portrait of me before," she observes aloud, and when she looks at the picture again, you can tell her focus is on the eyesāit is, after all, where you put the most detail.
"Does it please you?" you ask, emboldened by the lack of a negative response. The Oiran's brow twitches, and for a split second, you fear you have overstepped.
"It is acceptable" is the only praise she gives you. However, the joy you feel must be evident by your expression because Warabihime immediately frowns and glares at you. "Don't look so excited; you're still an ugly nobody who's lucky to even be in my presence," she hisses. "How you depict me pleases me, however. I would not be opposed to hiring you again, should this painting be finished before our next session. I have heard of the nature of your paintings, and I want one of my own," she explains.
"You want me to finish this before we meet again?" You question, confused.
"Yes, have you gone deaf? I don't like repeating myself," she seethes. "I don't care about the other details. Make them however you see fit, so long as they look good. I'm not interested in sitting still for you while you finish the boring parts," she rants. "I would much rather start a new project," she hints mysteriously. Before you ask about this new project, she's left the room. Rather than dwelling on her cryptic words, you gather your things and leave.
Ever the starving-artist stereotype, you live in an attic above a small gift shop. The old woman who rents the space to you took pity on a lonely young lady out of luck and offered the extra space for a fair price. There's little room in the place you call home, but it's enough for you. You're thankful it has two small windows, one by the stairs which faces the district's main road, the other by your bed is much less scenic, as it faces an alleyway. It's often noisy in the entertainment district during the night, but you've learned to shut the noise out of your mind.
It's late in the night, morning would be upon you in a few measly hours. You are wracked by insomnia, your mind not allowing you to return to your restful slumber despite the sleeping aids you ingested. Usually, you would sketch or read to occupy your newfound time. Tonight, you feel no creative desire. So you simply lay awake, pouting at your misfortune, mind hazy from being somewhere between awake and asleep.
Bored, you decide to push the curtains aside and peek out the window. There's rarely anything worth mentioning when you look out this window, save for the random stray cat or couples fondling each other.
Tonight, however, you're greeted by an unusual sight.
A man whose back is to you appears to have fallen to the ground, steadily backing himself away from an unknown assailant. Bathed in shadows, you cannot see what has made the man so frightened. Upon closer observation, you notice the man has a broken sword in his hands, and the sign 'DESTROY' is written in white on the back of his clothes. He stands suddenly, taking a defensive stance, still grasping the hilt of his useless sword, and that's when the figure emerges from the dark.
It leaps out, moving so fast that you still can't tell what you're seeing until the poor man crumbles to the ground, spewing blood and innards. The figure looms over the corpse.
It's humanoid, at least.
A very tall, very lanky creature gleefully snatches the body. Now that it is still, you can see it is a strange combination of muscular and skinny. Its shoulders, traps, and biceps are reasonably large, but its torso is horrifyingly lean, to the point where you can distinctly see its bones. Its hair is an unusual gradient of black and green, and it hunches over a worrying amount. The only clothes it dons are a pair of extremely baggy trousers.
The creature crouches to the ground, cradling the corpse in its arms, and suddenly takes a large bite out of the man's shoulder, blood splattering on the dirty street.
The sight shocks you so greatly you pass out.
When you awake the following day, you're confused by the dreams you had and that you don't remember falling asleep. Despite knowing it's unlikely to be real, you glean a cautious peek out the window to see if there was any evidence of the strange vision you saw in your slumber.
You're met with the usual, dirty alleyway. No blood, no guts, no monsters.
Proving that it was nothing more than a dream.
Typically, your dreams elude you once you're conscious. This dream, however, was extremely vivid, the odd sights inspiring you. Before the vision can disappear, you leap from your bed to grab your personal sketchbook. Here, you would sketch whatever you desired, no matter how silly, depraved, or nonsensical. Frantically, you draw the strange being that appeared in the night for fear that you would forget if you didn't record it while the image was burned in your mind. Once you are satisfied that you have captured its likeness, you admire your work.
The being is human enough that you suppose you could call it a man, though the way he devoured that corpse was anything but human. The longer you gaze, the more you appreciate his form. The stark contrast from his chest to his waist, his hip bones' sharp, dramatic curve. His pointy, shark-like teeth.
He's horrifying and beautiful.
You've long loved the human body, in all its shapes and sizes, and this particular body is impossible and, above all, fascinating. You flip to another page to sketch him again, this time in a more interesting pose. Before long, you find yourself drawing the strange man in various posesācrouching, stretching, eating a suspiciously human-looking limb.
In the days that follow, you find yourself interested in drawing little else. No matter how many times you draw the man, you cannot scratch the itch in your brain-- you cannot satiate your curiosity. You have to force yourself to complete the portrait of Warabihime for fear of incurring her wrath. Aside from the haunting picture of the frightful Oiran and the warped body of the dream man, you work on nothing else.
As if the two subjects are the only individuals your mind has space for.
One night, after you had witnessed a couple passionately fucking in the alley below your window, you were overcome with desire. And in your passion, your thoughts turn to the object of your obsession.
It's only natural that your art soon followed suit.
It starts simply enough, you remove the baggy pants he wore in favor of including his genitaliaājust for practice, of course. Once you were tired of the tame sketches, these nudes become increasingly less artistic and more perverted. What was once a simple illustration of him kneeling with his flaccid dick hanging free evolves into his back arching with pleasure, pre-cum leaking from his erect cock.
Truthfully, you feel ashamed of the lascivious drawings, but not enough to prevent you from creating more. In fact, your shame is so ineffective that your art only becomes more perverse. In your budding attraction to the imaginary man, you dive deeper into self-indulgence and create art of the two of you entwined together.
You'd never been one for self-portraits, as you don't find yourself interesting enough to expend the energy to paint or draw. So it baffles you that you feel the need to draw such things of yourself, but it is oddly cathartic in a way. You've been lonely for a long time, especially sexually. Too shy to spend the night with a stranger, too proud to marry someone you don't know, too awkward to charm someone into loving you.
All you've known is yourself and your work. Perhaps that's the reason behind your fascination with humans and sexāit's all so foreign to you.
The man became the subject of your obsession, your affection, and your mind. When the desire overwhelmed you, you would succumb to touching yourself beneath your covers, where it felt like you could hide your shame from the world. Your pleasure would wash over you, mind full of the man and what you wish he would do to you if he were real.
Sometimes, it feels like the shame only makes you wetter while your fingers dance to bring you pleasure.
Eventually, your week to finish Warabihime's portrait comes to an end. The day you were instructed to meet her again, you woke up late and scrambled to gather your supplies. In your haste, you grab everything from your art pile and stuff it into your travel bag, covering the painting with a thick sheet before heading out.
Warabihime is no less beautiful or intimidating than the last time you saw her. You present your finished piece without instruction, eager to hear about her subsequent request. She accepts it wordlessly and does not praise you, though you can tell from the appreciative look in her eyes as she gazes at herself that she is content.
She describes her idea for her next painting without preamble that she wants a piece that shows more of her body and is sexier than a "boring portrait." As soon as the agreement leaves your lips, the Oiran is stripping. It catches you off guard. Most clients are slightly bashful when undressing. Deciding to play it safe, you cast your glance away from the woman, allowing her to undress privately.
"Fool. How are you going to paint me if you do not look?" Warabihime drawls condescendingly, a hint of amusement in her tone. Heeding her unspoken command, you look in her direction.
Her attire surprises you; her dark hair is loose and much longer than you would have anticipated. She dons very few clothes, her outfit consisting of undergarments and stockings, yet she still wears her obi around her bare waist. What surprises you most is she appears to have two flowers painted on her face. You don't recall seeing them before, though you simply must be tired and didn't notice--at least you try to reason.
Clearly appreciating your awe, she makes a show of laying down on the futon, draping herself flatteringly. Not needing to be told what to do, you set up your paint station, this time rotating your canvas horizontally to fit her lounging frame.
As you are pulling the supplies from your bag, to your utter horror, your personal sketchbook falls out, landing open on a page of random erotic drawings.
You had not meant to bring that with you. You never take it out of the house. You dive to grab it, but Warabihime is startlingly quick and snatches it before you can. She begins flipping through the pages, and you pray to every god above that she'll get bored and not discover your more recent interest.
"My, you really are quite the pervert," she mocks. "Is this all you like to draw?"
"Please give it back," your voice small, warbled by your rising urge to cry.
Her teasing stops abruptly, a flit of shock crossing her features. You're already sure you know what she's confused about. Your fears are confirmed when she turns the book to you, opened to a page full of drawings of the dream man.
"Who is this?" she demands in a shrill voice. "Answer me!" She snarls when you don't respond quickly enough.
"I don't know!" You cry out, humiliation bubbling to the surface, "I saw him in a dream once and was inspired to draw him. Nothing else, I swear," you sob. Despite the blood swarming your ears, you hear her cruel laughter ring throughout the room.
"Brother!" She calls. "You have to wake up; you have to see this!" she giggles maniacally.
Brother? You wonder. Since when does she have a brother, let alone one close enough to hear her now?
She keeps perusing, and given the direction she's flipping, you know she's about to reach the worst ones.
"Holy shit," she squawks crudely, "I can't believe this. Are you seeing this?" She asks though you feel like she isn't speaking to you. "Is this supposed to be you?" she points to a drawing of you and the mystery man.
"....no?" you fail to lie after a few moments of silence. Warabihime throws her head back with laughter at your response, obviously seeing through your poor attempt at a lie.
"Tell me," she begins after she has calmed her hysterical laughing, wiping a tear from her eye, "what do you see in this 'dream man' of yours?"
"I don't know," you start, refusing to meet her judgmental gaze. "I enjoy drawing bodies, and I found his body very unique, and it kind of just spiraled out of control, I guess," you explain sheepishly.
"Spiraled it one way to put it," she mocks. "What do you want to do about this? Clearly, she saw you, but is so stupid she thought it was a dream," she says, talking to someone else again. Alarm bells start blaring. Clearly, something is very, very wrong.
You need to leave. Now.
"'Will do!" she says in a sinister, sing-song voice. Then, as you begin to run for the door, her obi sash dances to life and comes for you at an alarming speed. And then, you feel yourself being constricted and dragged away from the door until you see nothing but black.
When you come to, you find yourself somewhere dark and unfamiliar. Your body is bound, as is your mouth. You attempt to struggle but, after a few moments, decide it's not worth the effort. There is little light in the room, only a few candles in the far corners of the room. The small light they provide at least allows you to see the various ribbons of Waribihime's belt draping from the ceiling, and when you glance down, you realize that you are bound by the same material. You can tell by the wood that you are likely still in the house, just in a more private section.
Perhaps if you can get the belt out of your mouth, you can make enough ruckus to catch someone's attention. Instead, your hopeful thoughts are interrupted by bare feet suddenly filling your vision. You hadn't heard anyone approach. How was someone just in front of you now?
You look up, and you feel as if your heart has fallen to the pit of your stomach.
The man from your dreams is now leering down at you.
Sketchbook in hand.
"You're quite the artist," he starts off, no beating around the bush. He flips through your book as he talks; his voice is gravelly and weak and clearly making fun of you. "Where did you learn to draw?" he questions, a terrifying, amused grin covering his face.
You stare at him flatly because you've been gagged. What the hell does he expect you to say?
"C'mon, don't be shy," he curls a finger around your gag and pulls it loose, only slightly, just enough for you to vaguely speak.
"My father," you try your best to say, but you sound ridiculous and drool an embarrassing amount. He giggles at your foolish display.
"You're very talented," he condescends. "And all that talent is wasted on a pervert like you," he chastises. Even in the low light, you can decipher which drawing he picked out when he turns the book to you. It's one of the first suggestive drawings you ever depicted of him, with his cock on clear display. "I don't know if I should be flattered or insulted. You drew it so small!" he cackles.
He trades his leering position for sitting on the ground in front of you, continually flipping through the pages and picking out ones to torment you with. One catches his interest where you're bent at a seemingly impossible angle, tears flowing and face warped with ecstasy as he pounds your battered cunt.
"Can you even bend that way?" he questions. "Do you really think your weak, little human body can handle all that?"
The stress and emotions catch up to you, and tears begin freely falling, your sobs muffled by the belt. But what little safety you found in that belt is torn away from you as the belt moves, freeing your mouth and your loud cries.
"Aw, don't cry," he coos mockingly as he pulls your body into his own, cradling you into the hard edges of his body. He smooths your hair, petting you. "It's weird and disgusting, but I happen to love things that are disgusting, depraved, and broken," he simultaneously comforts and degrades you.
"I'm so sorry!" you wail into his shoulder. "I promise I had no idea you were actually real. I thought I had imagined you! I would have never done such disrespectful things if I knew. You can burn the book. Please just let me go," your voice cracks from shame and terror.
"Burn it?" he drawls directly in your ear. "Why would I burn it? You made those for me, didn't you?"
"Not really," you hiccup honestly.
"But you want to get rid of them, so they're mine now," he concludes, leaving no room for argument.
"If what I saw was real, does that mean you actually ate that man?" you whisper, hiding further into his hard chest. You feel his thin chest rumble with his laughter more than you hear it.
"Of course I did! Why wouldn't I?" You look up at him, horrified and confused. "You're not the brightest, are you? I shouldn't be surprised since you thought you were dreaming in the first place." He pulls your hair, forcing you to look up at him.
He gets in your face, then says: "I'm a demon."
With that information, you begin to hyperventilate and try to scramble from his arms.
He only laughs at your attempt, given you are still bound, and he's much stronger than you. Amidst your struggle, he continues to harass you with embarrassing questions.
"How long have you been drawing these?"
"You were so scared that I ate that man, but here I am eating someone,"
"If your pussy truly looks like that, then you have the prettiest one I've ever seen,"
And the kicker.
"'You ever touch yourself to these? Thinkin' about me?" You gasp at the direct question, and from the guilty expression that washes over your face, you know he already knows your answer because he's howling with laughter.
"Go on, I wanna hear you say it," he patronizes.
"Yes," you mutter quietly.
"Hm? Couldn't hear you," he badgers, going as far as to dramatically cup his ear and lean in. Clearly enjoying your suffering.
"Yes," you say more forcefully, becoming irritated.
"Yes, what? I can't remember what we were talking about," his self-satisfied grin pissing you off.
"Yes, I touched myself!" you practically shout, anger becoming palpable. He surprisingly ignores your outburst in favor of giggling at your misfortune.
"You're a perfectly fine woman. You could be married to a normal man living a normal life. Yet you choose to touch yourself to drawings and imaginations. Pathetic." The way he spits out the word 'pathetic' makes you begin crying again.
"If you're going to kill me, just do it already. Why do you have to humiliate me first?" you weep, chest heaving from your sorrow.
"Why would I kill you?" he teases playfully, fully aware of your terror and why you would think that. "It's not every day I meet someone who wants to fuck me," he adds morosely. "Besides, Daki has already claimed you as her personal artist. She'd be mad if I ate you," he continues more nonchalantly than before. You find yourself confused by the name Daki but can only assume he means Warabihime.
"So you two don't want to kill me?" you ask warily, voice still wavering from your tears.
"No," he replies with a yawn, bored now that you're not freaking out. "But if you go around telling people or try to contact any slayers, I will," he threatens, a large sickle suddenly pressed to your throat.
"I won't, I swear I won't!" You cry, trying to keep the sharp blade away from your vulnerable neck. Your fear amuses him, evident by his low chuckling.
"Good, now that we've reached an understanding," he lowers the sickle and tosses it out of view. He invades your personal space again, leaning to speak against your ear. "I can fulfill all your nasty little fantasies. Just say the word, and they'll be a reality."
Your face is set ablaze by his bold offer.
You physically shake from the anticipation, the stress, and the fear that still hasn't entirely left your body.
"Well?" he breathes into your ear, doing nothing to soothe your anxiety.
"Please untie me. I can't think like this," you plead gently.
Clearly not impressed by your response, he frowns but does as you ask. You soothe your sore wrists, allowing the blood to flow through your body properly again. You give yourself a moment to relax before even attempting to speak to the demon.
"What's your name?" you ask nervously.
"Gyutaro," he responds gruffly. You share your name, even though he didn't ask. You remember from Warabihime calling out to him earlier that he's supposedly her brother despite bearing almost no resemblance to each other.
The two of you sit in silence for some timeānow that you're less afraid for your life, you can appreciate the man who has haunted your mind for the past week in the flesh. The defused, orange glow of the candlelight dances off his sharp hip bonesāfaintly, you think that you'd like to bite them. Your eyes trail up his body to meet his eyes. He had been too far away for you to see them before, but now you see he has glowing orange scleras and striking green eyes, with the symbol for 'UPPER SIX' where one's pupils would generally be.
"Are you 'gonna make up your mind, or are you just 'gonna keep eye-fucking me?" he mumbles, not breaking eye contact. Your breath catches in your throat at his words.
"I don't know what to do," you admit lamely.
"Why not? What's the problem?" he questions bluntly.
"'What's the problem?'" you parrot back at him incredulously and push him away. "I don't know. Maybe the problem is I've been kidnapped by a man-eating demon that's now casually asking if I want to fuck." Your rising temper is quickly shot down once you see he starts scratching at himself, deeply enough to leave wounds in his nails' wake.
"I don't get why you're being so pissy," he grumbles, "whenever someone sees me, I eat them. Are you saying that's what you'd prefer right now? To be eaten?" He challenges the fierce look in his eyes unwavering.
"N-no!" you quickly refute, putting your hands up defensively. "I'm thankful, really. I'm just scared and confused," you explain, hoping that being vulnerable will garner some sympathy.
"What's there to be confused about? You made raunchy drawings of me, so of course I want to fuck you. Like I said, if I wanted to hurt or kill you, I would have done that already. There's no reason to be scared or confused," he rationalizes slowly as if he were speaking to an idiotic child.
"Just because you say you won't hurt me doesn't make me feel safe," you spit back, not appreciating his supercilious tone at all. "You still kidnapped me, and you've done nothing but mock me for the drawings. Why would that make me want to sleep with you, you freak?" your voice becomes shrill the angrier you become. To your surprise, he doesn't seem vexed by your outburst or insult.
Instead, his mouth spreads into a chilling grin.
"'You want to know something fun about demons? Our senses are 'real sharp--we can see, hear, and smell things you humans can't," you eye him warily, not liking where he's taking this line of thought. "Do you want to know what I can smell right now?" The little space you managed to put between the two of you is disregarded as he pulls you in again to speak into your ear. "I can smell how wet you are. Despite what you say, your pussy gives you away. You were complaining about me being mean to you, but you want to know what I think?" He forces a knee against your weeping center, making you yelp. "I think you like it."
"You're wrong," you whisper but make no attempt to push him away.
"Am I now?" he questions, his voice full of sadistic mirth. "Okay," he acquiesces, pushing you from his lap back onto the floor. "Then I'll leave you here until Daki needs you," he begins to rise from his spot. You grip his forearm, eyes pleading. "What's this?" he questions delightedly.
"Stay," you murmur quietly as if you don't want to hear yourself say it.
'Why don't you convince me to stay?" he provokes.
You decide to shove your hesitance and fear deep down and lean up to gently press your lips against his own. He stills completely, not moving for a few seconds before he drags you into his lap to deepen the kiss, your thighs resting over his boney hips.
It's clumsy, messy, and all-around awkward. Neither of you is experienced in this department, though you believe it partially has to do with Gyutaro's large teeth being a hazard. Despite these issues, the kiss leaves you hot and bothered. He doesn't wait long before introducing his rather long, slightly pointed tongue into the fray, aggressively pushing its way into your mouth where it feels your dull teeth and wrestles your tongue. You can't stop the breathless noises that escape, the sensations new and exciting. Before long, the two of you are subtly grinding against each other. You feel him gradually harden in his pants and your own dampness becoming impossible to ignore.
His hands wander from their previous spot on your back, one trailing downward to grab a handful of your ass, the other coming forward to palm your breast. He bucks his hips more aggressively once he has your softer parts in his hands, enjoying the way they feel. His squeezing of your breast becomes pinching once he finds your nipple. Hidden behind various layers of cloth, he can't play with the delicate flesh as much as he'd likeāso he starts pulling at your clothes.
The plain kimono you donned to visit Warabihime sliding down your shoulders until it falls from your torso entirely. You're honestly surprised he didn't simply rip the thing in half. Surprised that you had yet another layer keeping him from what he wanted to see, he decides to tear your breast band, allowing the soft globes to bounce free. The look of awe on his face is flattering, you think, as he's pushing you over to lay on your back. He spreads your legs so he can situate himself between them.
He plants his face directly in between your breasts, pressing them against either side of his face, simply enjoying the soft skin and squishy flesh. He begins playing with your nipples more directly than before, experimenting with pinching, twisting, and pulling on them. You'd never imagined your breasts would be so sensitive to someone's touch, but his frantic attention on them had you squirming from the unfamiliar pleasure.
You squeal when he pinches harder and pulls, this time not letting go. Your head falls back, baring your neck to him. He leans forward, still abusing the delicate buds, to cover your neck in kisses, sucks, and nips. The pinch turns into twisting, making you cry out. They're extremely sensitive to his touch now, and he's been exceedingly rough with them. You grind into him desperately, simultaneously trying to receive more of the sensation and run away from it. Wanting more, you drag him by the knot in his hair to your lips again, where you two sloppily move your lips against one another. He gently nips your lower lip before abandoning you again and finally releasing your aching buds from his grasp. Only to cover one with his mouth.
You'll admit, the sensation of him sucking on your nipples doesn't feel nearly as pleasurable as when he was using his fingers to toy with them, but he seems to enjoy having them in his mouth. You allow him to do as he pleases, idly playing with his hair in the meantime. From his low humming, you gather he enjoys the lulling touches. Eventually, he swaps to the other to give it equal treatment, his tongue soothing his previous abuse. Once he's had enough, he nuzzles his face into your cleavage again, grumbling at the feel of your body. You can't help but giggle, finding his fascination with your breasts endearing.
"Your tits are amazing," he mumbles into your flesh. You mutter a soft thank you, not sure what else to say.
He continues his way down, hurriedly undoing the obi and exposing the rest of your body to his inquisitive eyes. Like before, he simply tears your underwear rather than bothering to remove them. You don't have time to be self-conscious because he's already gripping your thighs and pushing them as high as they can go. He settles back on his knees and simply hovers over your mound, staring up at you expectantly.
A few moments pass, and you become impatient and flustered with his staring.
"What are you doing?" you ask with a huff.
"You said you were scared to have my mouth near your body, so maybe I shouldn't," he ponders aloud, wanting to torment you even now. He lets his tongue hang out, his sharp teeth on display and oh-so-close to the most delicate part of your body. Only after a few moments of him doing this drool begins to pool at the edges of his mouth and tongue, some of it dripping onto your aching heat.
It makes your stomach do somersaults.
"I think I've changed my mind," you say, trying to get him to continue. Then, figuring he would bully you into saying something embarrassing again, you decide to do it before he even asks. "Please, please keep going. I really want to feel your tongue," you whine, raising your hips the minuscule amount you can to sell your point.
With that, he wastes no more time acquainting his tongue with your sopping pussy.
It's clear he isn't practiced in what he's doing; his tongue is clumsy as it laps at your wetness. Clumsy but very enthusiastic. His lapping morphs into spearing your walls, burying his face between your legs to lick you as deeply as possible. You grab his hair to ground yourself, given your feet are flailing around helplessly. It feels as if he's trying to memorize the shape of your walls and steal all the cream you've produced for himself.
He tires of his licking and moves to lather your clit with his saliva and your own sticky wetness. He spreads your lips apart gently, exposing your small bud to even more of his ministrations. This is when you become very noisy, gasping and moaning at the intense pleasure. Gyutaro also begins moaning against your heat, the vibrations from his sounds only serving to make everything more intense. His noises are loud but muffled. You distantly wonder if he's touching himself due to how noisy he's being.
Just when you thought it was too overwhelming, he adds a long, boney finger to the mix. You gasp at the sudden intrusion, his finger surprisingly thick despite its appearance. Once you readily accept the first, he adds a second. This one is less easy to introduce, but once it's comfortably seated in your pussy he begins fucking you with them. The sounds of your wetness fill the air, and by his poking and prodding, you can tell he's searching for the best place to touch you. Suddenly, he's spreading the digits, stretching you even further. You whine at the pleasurable pain, enjoying the sensation.
He abandons your clit so that he can lean back and watch you fall apart, his thumb reaching to take his mouth's place. Rather than press into your clit, he uses his residual spit and your slick to quickly glide circles over its surface. His eyes are hazy with lust, his mouth hanging open slightly as he pants, the occasional noise falling from his lips. You yelp when he curls his fingers, pressing into the spongy patch within your walls. Noticing the reaction, Gyutaro begins targeting the spot, making sure to stroke it as his fingers continue their pace.
He attempts to add a third finger, but your clenching doesn't allow him. To your utter dismay, he removes them and brings them to his mouth, coating them with his saliva. After he's satisfied with how sticky they are, he tries inserting them again. The tip of the third finger breaching your entrance makes you grimace, the intrusion being thicker than anything you've taken before. Subconsciously you shift your hips away, trying to avoid the unpleasant sensation. He snickers when he notices this.
"How do you expect to take my dick if you can't even handle this?" Gyutaro condescends with a cackle, eyes greedily taking in the image of your pussy struggling to accept him as he continues pressing. "I guess it can't be helped. You're just a weak human after all," he sneers.
To the surprise of both of you, your body suddenly accepts his finger fully, allowing it to slide in beside the other two almost immediately.
"What was that about being a weak human?" You try to taunt back smugly.
His fingers resume the pace he had set before, gathering more of your wetness and lubricating your clit to rub it effectively.
"Yes, you're still a pathetic, weak human," he punctuates with a particularly rough thrust. "No one else would be proud that they willingly gaped their pussy for a demon's cock," he scissors his fingers to stretch you even further. "Don't you feel any shame? Hm?" When you don't answer, he leans forward and grips you by your face, making sure your eyes are on him. "Well?"
Hot shame burns you, eyes watering under the weight of his judgemental, condescending gaze and the overwhelming sensations your body is experiencing. You find it increasingly difficult to respond as his ministrations never falter, a multitude of thoughts wanting to be expressed at once.
"Yes, I'm ashamed," you say feebly, the words broken up by your sounds of pleasure.
"Why are you ashamed?"
"B-because-" you trail off, distracted by the battering your pussy is receiving.
"B-because," he mocks in a high-pitched voice, "because what?"
"Because I'm a pervert and a whore," your voice shakes as tears start freely flowing. The grip he has on your face subsides, and he instead cradles your face gently. He laughs cruelly at your answer.
"You are a perverted whore," he coos, wiping your tears with his thumb, "You're disgraceful," the way he spits the word makes you sob. "You've stooped so low that you let a hideous creature like me soil you. But there's no need to cry about it. I like that about you," he murmurs as if he's whispering kind, romantic nothings. "Now be a good whore and come," his soothing voice becomes a growl at his command.
Your legs begin to tremble from his assault, your breath becoming choppy as you near your peak. Without prompting, you start begging him to finish you off, knowing you wouldn't be able to handle it if he left you hanging. He continues dutifully, neither speeding up nor slowing down until he feels you convulse with joy. Your mouth is wide open as you come with a silent scream, your body twitching randomly as the pleasure courses through you. Before you can come back down, his fingering comes to a halt, and you're dragged into his lap, hips elevated above your head as he brings your still twitching pussy back to his mouth.
His nose bumps your clit as his tongue dives back into your hole, eagerly lapping at your release. They're hard to hear because his mouth is occupied, but his breathing becomes faster, faint whimpers joining the sounds as his hips thrust near your back. Then, to your confusion, he suddenly grumbles deeply, stills, and then lowers you back to the floor.
You lay there panting, trying to recover from the high of the experience you just had. Gyutaro maintains his kneeling position, simply watching you and waiting to see what you'd do next. Once you've caught your breath, you decide you'd like to return the favor and sit up to crawl towards him.
"Can I touch you?" You ask with a hand placed gently on his knee. Despite everything he just did to you, he's still a temperamental demon, and you want to play it safe. He nods but makes no move to help you. You try your best to remove the trousers that cling for life on his sharp hips and are only able to lower them just enough to free his cock.
He was right. Your drawings were small compared to the real thing.
Not only is it terrifyingly long and thick, but it's covered in rippling veins and already surprisingly sticky. In fact, upon closer inspection, you note his pants are a mess as well.
Did he come from eating you out?
For now, you decide to ignore this fact in favor of addressing the rather large, throbbing problem that eagerly awaits your attention. Not entirely sure how to proceed, you start by simply gripping him in your hand. The girth is so massive your fingers don't touch, and you now understand why he chastised you for not being able to handle three fingers before. You work through your intimidation and begin gently stroking him--you've barely touched him, and he's panting and groaning like he's getting close already.
You delicately pull back his foreskin; you fully expose the purple head of his cock, leaking copious amounts of precum from your simple strokes. Unable to resist, you lower your head to lick at the fluid, the tip of your tongue purposefully grazing his slit. He jolts and gasps at this, his hand coming to grip your hair. You look up through your lashes, staring him in the eyes as you envelop his tip in your mouth and begin sucking while your stroking hand never lets up.
He handles about five seconds of this treatment before he's yanking you off of him by your hair. Then, grumbling, 'that's enough.'
With that, he's pushing you back to your previous spot on the floor and nestling himself between your legs. He spreads them wide before grabbing his cock and rubbing it along your folds, coating himself in your wetness. As he positions himself to enter you, you reach down and spread your lips to aid his entry. Once his head catches your hole, he leans directly above you, completely caging you in as he starts pushing into you.
And fuck is it painful.
Despite all the time he spent preparing you, it still hurt like hell. You squirm uncomfortably as his head slowly breaches you, the stretch nearly unbearable. Given there's nothing in this room, you grip him by his shoulders, digging your nails into the muscle as you try to steady your breathing. You're surprised he's going slow at all and faintly think to thank him later. He easily shifts his weight to one arm, freeing the other to wipe away your tears again. You hadn't even noticed new ones falling.
He's hushing your cries, whispering about how pretty and good you are. He even goes as far as to press soft kisses to your lips and cheeks. With his sweet consoling and unhurried pace, before you even know it, he's seated inside you completely, balls resting against your ass.
Gyutaro is heavily panting, curling in on himself slightly as if to keep himself at bay. You wiggle your hips to see if you're ready, making him groan like he's in pain. You press a kiss to his forehead.
"Please fuck me now," you say against his skin.
He doesn't need to be told twice because he's already pulling out as soon as the words leave your mouth. In his excitement, all the gentleness from before vanishes as he begins eagerly humping away, filling your pussy to the brim before almost pulling out entirely. The sounds of skin slapping and your wetness gushing fill the space. You already know you're going to have bruises from where his boney hips smack against you.
He lowers himself to his elbows, burying his head in your shoulder as he fucks you. To your surprise, Gyutaro is noisy. He has no shame in openly moaning, groaning, and whining into your shoulder, muttering curse words and praise as he gets lost in pleasure.
And before it even feels like the two of you really get started, he's filling you with cum. A growl rumbling in his chest as his hips don't stop jerking until he's been milked dry.
Needless to say, you're shocked he came so quickly and a tad disappointed. He bullied your pussy open just to come within a minute? Deep down, you know he can't help it, but the more spiteful part of you wants to get back at him for all the nasty things he said about you.
"All that talk about me being pitiful, and you can't even last a minute? Sounds like someone was projecting." Before you can even check for his reaction, a large hand is clamping over your mouth, keeping you pinned to the floor.
Oh, he's pissed.
"You fucking brat," he seethes between clenched teeth, embarrassment and resentment clear. "You're an idiot, so let me explain something to you about demons," he gets in your face, eyes burning into yours. "We have endless stamina, and we can regenerate our cells. Which means I'm not finished until I choose to be. You'll wish you could've stayed disappointed when I'm done with you," To your horror, you realize that his erection has not softened inside you this entire time.
And with that revelation, he begins mercilessly pounding away again. He doesn't remove his hand from your mouth, muffling all your noises as he fucks you. His fat dick constantly spearing in and out, coupled with his hand making breathing slightly arduous, you start feeling lightheaded. All you can do is grip his brawny shoulders and hold on, trying your best not to come too quickly.
Because that moment of bravery would be wasted if you also came within the first minute.
To your misfortune, one of his thrusts slips at a different angle, hitting a susceptible spot in your body making you flinch. Given how blatant your reaction was, it's only natural Gyutaro notices and purposefully aims at it with every rock of his hips.
"Touch yourself," he mumbles gruffly, though the severity of his tone is weakened by his breathlessness. When you hesitate due to your spaciness, he snaps his hips more harshly, grinding into the responsive area. "That wasn't a suggestion."
Your trembling hand makes its way down to your cunt, sliding through your lips to gently circle at your clit. Trying to go easy on yourself, you don't press hard or quickly.
"Faster," he commands, his hips mimicking the demand. You find yourself complying immediately, despite your previous rebellion. Your whimpers become more rapid, whinier behind his large hand. "Faster," he says again, more desperate as he sounds close to tipping over the edge.
With your nimble fingers and his persistent thrusting, you're soon arching your back with a loud wail. As soon as he felt you were cresting, he removed his hand so you could hear it loud and clear, the cry ringing throughout the empty space.
He pulls out, staring down at your chest as it rises and falls with your panting.
"How embarrassing. You were just insulting me about coming too fast," Gyutaro snickers at your pliant state, muscles weak from the powerful experience.
"Yeah, and you couldn't even do it without my help," you mutter under your breath before you can stop yourself, feeling petulant from his teasing.
"Your help, right," he begins manhandling you from your comfortable place on the floorāturning you on your stomach before forcing you up onto your knees, your back against his chest. "I've been so generous, and you've been nothing but a whiny bitch. Show some fucking gratitude and work for it," he grouses and positions you above his cock. You lower yourself down, keening when the head nestles its way inside you. Despite how wet both you and his dick are, you take him slowly simply due to his size.
You make it about halfway before he gets impatient.
"Hurry up," he grumbles before gripping your arms and yanking you down, your hips meeting with a slap. While it didn't hurt, it was still a shock to suddenly be so full again.
"Fuck, why are you so big?" You whine. You feel him twitch inside you from the comment. You begin rocking yourself atop him, getting used to the motions. Getting worked up, your rocking becomes more vigorous until you're bouncing on him. Raising yourself as high as you can before dropping down until your ass meets his pelvis.
Apparently, he appreciates the new view because he's gripping your ass, occasionally giving it a smack and laughing at the startled noise you let out.
"You feel so good," you mewl, throwing your head back when he hits the right spot. His hand comes around to grasp your chin, keeping your head back. His fingers pinch either side of your cheeks, forcing your mouth open.
And then he spits in your mouth.
You feel yourself clench at the shocking behavior, and he begins bucking up into you wildly, iron grip keeping your head back as he does this.
"Swallow it," he mumbles distractedly, forehead resting against yours. You struggle because your neck is at an odd angle but eventually comply with his demand. "Good girl," he praises, his voice strained. His thrusting becomes more violent as he buries face into your shoulder, hand abandoning your cheeks so that he can wrap both his arms around you as he pistons in and out of your heat. He bites you when he comes, teeth tearing into the muscle and forcing you to remain still as he pumps cum into you.
He laps at the leaking wound with his tongue, clearly enjoying the taste of your blood. And just leaves you to sit on his dick, no longer moving his hips, occasionally fondling your tits.
You restlessly wiggle, having not come yourself.
He begrudgingly retracts his teeth from your flesh and loosens his grip around your body so you can move again. This time, your legs tremble as you try raising yourself. Your body is tired from your earlier bouncing; the muscles in your thighs feel as if they're on fire. You circle your hips, trying to tantalize him into thrusting again. You turn to look at him pleadingly, trying to convey your desires without saying anything.
"Are you too tired?" He coos, hands moving to hold your hips. You nod your head, pouting a little. "Do you need my help to come?" He taunts, referring back to your previous criticism. "Beg for it."
"Please? I can't do it by myself, I need your help. I 'wanna feel good," you plead softly, trying to ignore your rising self-consciousness.
He doesn't need much convincing because he's pushing you forward until you're on your hands and knees. He immediately starts driving himself into you, pleased with how your ass jiggles with each thrust.
"How can you be such a whore and be so awful at it at the same time?" He croons. His thrusts are much lazier than before. "You really can't do anything by yourself, can you? Let me guess: 'you want me to play with your pathetic little pussy too?" His voice is rough as mumbles in your ear. You nod desperately, wanting him to make you come again.
"Please," you muster up the strength to say the embarrassing words, "please touch my p-pathetic pussy and make me come."
His hand forces its way between your legs to access your throbbing clit. Two fingers reside on either side of the burning nub, trapping it and stimulating it indirectly. You squeal from hypersensitivity, letting your head hang as you accept the onslaught of pleasure.
His unhurried pace picks up with his intent to make you come. He pinches your clit, making you wail. The pinch only makes you more sensitive to his touch. He stops the indirect contact and begins roughly and speedily drawing circles directly on your raw clit, forcing tears and cries from you. Your hands almost give up supporting you, so you lower yourself to your chest, cradling your head in your folded arms. This makes you arch your hips even higher, allowing him to hit deeper, leaving you breathless.
"'You 'gonna come?"
"Yes, yes, yes, yes-" you chant until your body explodes under the pressure, your pussy gushing around him. His pounding never lets up, forcing your orgasm to carry until you're shaking and collapsing from the intensity. He allows you to lay down fully, his dick sliding out with a sickening squelch. Your tense muscles thank you as you stretch your legs out fully, trying to catch your breath.
You're only afforded a few moments of peace before he's spreading your cheeks, his thighs resting on either side of your own, and pressing his cock back inside your sloppy cunt.
"More?" You question incredulously, thankfully able to withstand the treatment a little better given this position doesn't allow him to reach as deep.
"You were so disappointed earlier. I thought you wanted me to last longer," Gyutaro quips, lowering himself to his elbows until he hovers directly above your resting form. "Don't worry. All you have to do is lay there and let me use this worthless cunt. Even you can do that, right?" You nod, squirming from his continued abuse.
"So good," he groans, "so pretty." The edge in his voice softens as his orgasm approaches, "I can't believe someone as beautiful as you wants someone like me to fuck them," he mumbles in awe. His genuine compliments make your heart flutter and squeeze him tighter. "Fuck! You squeeze me so damn hard," he whines before spilling into you again. You've lost count of how many times he's come inside you tonight.
He pulls out, spreading your cheeks to watch how his cum leaks from your gaping, twitching hole.
"I wonder if demons can get humans pregnant," he speculates. "Guess we'll find out soon enough," his voice tinges with delight as he pushes the dripping cum back into you. "Then you'd have no choice but to stay with meāwith us," the possessiveness in his voice making you quiver in fear and desire. "But you don't need to be scared," his voice deceptively gentle as he rolls you over, "I'd take care of you and whatever monstrosity a human and a demon would create. Maybe I'll convince my master to turn you into a demon too."
With that shocking thought, he stands, hoisting your legs with him until they're bent over in the air, making your pussy accessible while your shoulders and head remain on the floor. It's incredibly uncomfortable, making your upper back bear an alarming amount of your weight. He grips your calves loosely, squatting until he's low enough for his dick to enter you once more.
"Can we not do it like this?" You grumble, back already sore.
"Why not? It was your idea, after all," he counters. You don't have to see his face to know he's sporting a shit-eating grin as he says that.
"Since," you let out a frustrated moan, annoyed that despite the discomfort, the position is still plenty pleasurable. "Since when?"
"You don't remember? It was one of my favorite drawings of yours," he purrs, grinding deeper into you. You can feel your face turn into a little 'o' at that explanation. "I'm just trying to fulfill your fantasies; you should be thankful instead of complaining so much."
"...thank you," you whisper, grimacing through the pleasure that was veering on pain, due to how sensitive you've become. Not expecting your sweet compliance, Gyutaro groans loudly and doubles down on your pussy.
"You're so disgraceful, so cute, so needyā" he growls out through clenched teeth, "it makes me want to fucking ruin you."
"I can't take anymore," you sheepishly whine, "it's too much." You could feel another orgasm creeping upon you, though you feel too exhausted to withstand another.
"Just one more," he breathes, releasing one of your legs to rub torturous patterns into your clit, your free leg dangling uselessly.
"Oh god," you squeal at the contact, "Gyutaro, please, I can't-"
"Say my name again," he seethes, ignoring your protests.
"Gyutaro, Gyutaro, oh my god-" your pleas turn into a guttural groan as another orgasm is ripped from you, the additional pressure that had built up snapping causing you to squirt all over his cock.
"Shit-" is all he manages to say before he comes, only adding to the mess you made. He lowers your hips back to the ground, letting all the fluids that gathered spill. He sits between your legs, admiring the mess the two of you made. You're ecstatic when you note he finally allowed his dick to go limp.
"You can't keep me here," you croak weakly, your voice barely carrying over the sound of your panting. "I have regular clients who will wonder about me," your voice shakes, weakening your delivery.
"I don't think you understand the direness of your situation," he says lowly. "You're lucky you're even alive right now. If any other demon had found you, you wouldn't get even a word out, let alone enough to be making demands. Sleep," he bosses, ignoring your threat entirely. He removes himself from between your legs. "You had a lot of interesting ideas, so you'll need some energy if we're going to make them happen," he reminds you ominously, draping your kimono over you as a makeshift blanket.
Sleep overtakes you almost instantly.
True to his word, you remain as Daki and Gyutaro's prisoner. Daki frequently forces you to paint portraits of her in all sorts of situations, some more gruesome than others. Even if it's repetitive, you still retain your love for painting Daki, though you'd never tell her you much prefer to make art of her brother.
Gyutaro only becomes more clingy the more time you're forced to spend with him, always needing some sort of skin-to-skin contact. You quickly learn the demon is touch-starved; given how fucked up the circumstances are, you shouldn't find it endearingāyet you do.
You aren't downright isolated from society, as Daki declared you her personal assistant, so you were still fed and got to interact with humans on a near-daily basis.
Learning that Gyutaro resides in Daki's back, you're faced with how possessive the demon is. Whenever a client's eyes so much as trail over your body, Gyutaro will surely eat them sooner or later.
One evening, as you obediently follow Daki through the halls, you overhear a few customers commenting on one of the house's paintings--one that you had painted. An older man scoffs at your choice of lighting, the other agreeing before saying the colors are muddy and lackluster. And if you could hear the harsh words, naturally, your demon companions could as well. Frustration and anger bubble in you.
Oh, how you wish you couldā
"Gyutaro?" You call softly. Daki turns to look at you, signaling that her brother was listening.
"Eat them."
If you made it all the way down here, congrats and thank you so much for reading!! This is my first time publishing a fanfic, so if you liked it please please PLEASE let me know because I'm very self-conscious about this lol. I need validation so pleeeease don't be shy.
If you have any criticisms please be nice I'm very sensitive ;-;
āÆFIRST TIME | Itadori x virgin! reader | Jujutsu Kaisen
word count: 6,000+
warnings: SEX. MINORS DNI-also characters aged up :)
a/n: I havent wrote smut in a very, very looonngggg time- so sorry if its rough!
āYuuji, please can I have just one?ā You pleaded, your body currently laying on top of his as you gave him your best puppy eyed look.
You two were having a movie night, and even though you had eaten all your snacks, he refused to let you have some of his sour candy belts.
Didnāt the bastard love you enough to share?
Yuuji chuckled, the vibration soaking into your chest.
āYou ate all of your candy! Youāve had enough for the night, or you wonāt be able to sleep,ā
āThat just sounds like a lame excuse to not give me some,ā you pouted, resting your hands lazily on his chest.
Yuuji places a chaste kiss on the top of your head, gobbling up a particularly sugary strip as if taunting you.
You mentally groaned in annoyance-
He definitely didnāt love you enough.
Suddenly, an evil idea coursed through your mind, a devilish grin spreading across your lips. You shuffled yourself on his chest, no longer laying on him but sitting, blocking his view of the TV.
You caught him giving you a quizzical look, those choclate brown eyes trying to understand what was going on.
āFine then Yuuji-ā you grinned mischievously, reaching for his sugar glazed digits. āIf you donāt want to give me some-ā
Before he could process what you were planning, you brought his digits up to mouth, your lips wrapping around his fingers and giving a hard suck, tongue lapping you every grain of crystallized sugar.
You felt him shuffle under you, pelvis tightening under you and pushing up against your thighs. You snuck a look at him, his eyes wide like a deer in headlights, teeth gnawing on his bottom lip as he stared at your mouth around his skin.
You sucked his pointer slowly, silently releasing your tongue in his skin as you chuckled to yourself.
He just looked so shocked-serves him right for not sharing.
āThose were pretty good Yuuji, kinda see why you didnāt wanna share-hnng-ā
You suddenly couldnāt breathe-but in the best way possible. Yuuji was practically strangling you with his lips, devouring you in one full swoop, his large palm forcing your neck into him. He tasted just like his fingers, but much more intense, and his skin was so soft that it had your head spinning.
Yuuji broke from your heated kiss, his lips now swollen and parted as he gasped for breath. Those brown eyes you knew so well seemed almost darker, and glazed, something in them entirely different from any other time he ever kissed you.
It wasnāt like you hadnāt maked out with him before-you had done it countless times. But each time he rarely ever lost control, always being incredibly sweet and comforting, making sure you felt as good as he did. His eyes were bright and hazy with ecstasy, always looking so dazed as if he had never kissed anyone before.
But right now, that sweet and caring Yuuji wasnāt entirely there-something else was taking over, and the look he was giving you was simultaneously nerve wracking and hot.
Like a predator looking at his prey-but fighting to hold itself back.
āYou donāt know how bad I want you right now-you make it so hard for me to hold back sometimes babe,ā he chuckled, his voice low and husky as he guided your face close to his, his honesty sending a shade of pink across his cheeks.
It was your turn to feel shocked-did sucking his fingers really turn him on this much? You didnāt even think it through-you were just feeling petty he wouldnāt give you foodā¦.
āYuuji, Iām-Im so sorry, I didnāt mean-ā you began to stutter, fingers gripping his white tee as if begging him to believe you.
Fuck, now you felt terrible. Yuuji knew you were a virgin, and he was incredibly sweet about it, allowing you to decide when you wanted to go that far in your own time. He never pressured you, never made advances or hinted at it, even though at times you knew he wanted it. And you wanted to give him that...in time. But more and more, you felt you couldnāt hold yourself back either-he hadnāt ever given you a reason to not trust him-so why not cross it off your bucket list?
Yuuji looked smiled, but he looked let down, the expression making your heart feel broken.
āItās okay babe...I know you didnāt mean anything by it...itās my fault for not keeping myself under control. I-I like you a lot, but I understand if your still uncomfortable by the idea of doing that.ā
That meaning sex. But-you hoenstly felt ready for it. Sex didnāt seem so scary with Yuuji, and for the first time you felt frustrated he was being so thoughtful.
He gave you an innocent kiss on your forhead, that sad smile still on his lips.
āLetās just watch the movie, okay-ā
You pursed your lips, towering yourself over Yuuji as best you could.
āNo, Yuuji, I-I donāt want to watch,ā you gulped down your anxiety, mustering the courage from your chest, āIām ready. I want to do it. Now.ā
Yuuji blinked a few times, gulping down saliva harshly.
āAre-are you sure? You donāt have to worry about me, I donāt want you doing this just because of what I said or-ā
You forced your lips on his, your turn to suffocate him with your skin. Yuuji let out a small moan, the vibration sending heat into your lower abdomen.
āIām ready-Iāve been ready.ā You said truthfully, tucking your head gently into his shoulder as you gained control over your breathing. āI just-just be gentle, please?ā
Yuuji quickly shuffled onto his elbows, his calloused digits gently guiding your face to look at his, a soft, excited expression glazed over his face.
āOf course Iāll go gentle, baby, I wouldnt dream of being anything else but that with you-ā
Yuuji couldnt deny it-he was beyond excited. He waited so long, so damn long to get to this point where he could do more than kiss you and only touch above your waist.
He spent countless nights fantasizing over your body, imagining how soft your skin would be, the sound of your pretty moans as he worked you into an orgasm, or the way your ass would bounce as you rode his cock. He wondered how you would sound not just saying his name but moaning it,( maybe even screaming it if he was lucky) or how you would look with a fucked out expression, eyes rolled back and lips plump from so much force. He had to reserve those thoughts for when he was alone in the dead of night, because he would risk an automatic boner from the thoughts.
But now, all his waiting, all his kindness was finally paying off-you were ready. And even though he had minimal experience, he was ready to make this the most memorable experience for you. He was finally able to know what the real you felt like, and not just some made up fantasy in his mind to work him into a orgasm.
āJust tell me when you want to stop, and I promise Iāll end it,ā he stated firmly with a gulp, his voice gentle as he stroked your cheek.
He marveled at the way you looked so sweet, almost innocent as you gave him a nervous smile, nodding your head as confirmation. That bravery finally was ebbing out of your system, and Yuuji was feeling that buzz of adrenaline course through his veins again.
āOkay, Iām going to roll you onto your back-ready?ā
You nodded nervously, a hum of agreement sounding from your lips. Yuuji swiftly flipped you onto your back, his body now towering over yours.
He looked at you, noticing you looked nervous but not uncomfortable, deciding he had the green light as he began to kiss your lips again feverishly, trailing down your chin and onto the tender skin around your throat.
He began searching for your sweet spot, noticing how you squirmed and mewled in certain areas, your movements small and timid.
Yuuji sucked on the skin gently, loving how your hands gripped the back of his shirt at the new sensation. His tongue trailed a line against your throat, suddenly finding a spot that made you groan automatically.
Yuuji worked on that spot feverishly, knowing that it got a rise out of you as his hands began to sneakily work themselves under your top.
You were so lost in what he was doing to you that you didnāt even notice how deeply his hands were in your shirt, coaxing the fabric higher and higher.
Self confidence began to diminish, cause holy shit he was going to actually see you naked.
Your hands flew to his wrists, wrapping around the skin and forcing him to stop.
āYou wanna stop?ā he instantly asked, his brown warm eyes wide with confusion.
You instantly shook your head.
āNo no! Itās just-Iām not as...well, fit-as you and...I donāt know, I donāt want you-ā
āHey-ā Yuuji said softly, his large hand encasing your cheek and making you look into his eyes. āI think your beautiful, every part of you. Donāt even worry what I think, because I promise you that I think you and your body are amazing.ā
You smiled small at the words, feeling flustered by his compliments.
āThereās my pretty girl-ā he grinned, his thumb rubbing the skin of your cheek. āYou still want to keep going?ā
You nodded numbly, heart beating fast against your chest as he slowly guided you off your back, his calloused digits ghosting on your skin. He took his time, making sure not to rip the garment off of you by slowly ease it off your form as gently as possible. Almost as if you were made of glass.
Yuuji tossed the balled up clothing off the bed, his eyes wide as he stared at your form.
āWhoaā¦ā
He was staring at you, but in a way that was so different-he was seeing you so vulnerable for the first time, and it was incredibly new to you. You felt insecurity bubble in you again, eyes drifting to the side as you bite your bottom lip.
You heard him chuckle, his hands wrapping around your waist but not brave enough to touch your chest.
āYouāre gonna be the death of me, you know that?ā He smiled, his cheeks a rosy red.
You watched him lick his lips as if he was contemplating something, your heart thumping at the simple motion.
āCan I...keep going?ā He asked quietly, searching your face once again for confirmation, and again you nodded your head as a yes.
His lips formed into a giddy smile, giving you a kiss as his digits trailed to the back of your bra, stopping at the clasps. He pulled away from your lips slowly, a blush forming on his cheeks.
āIām- I might need some help-Iāve never been good with the whole bra thing-ā
All you could do was laugh, finding that to be such a āYuujiā thing-sometimes he was so incredibly cute for the strangest things.
āSure, Yuuji,ā you giggled, kissing him quickly on the lips as you unclasped the bra yourself.
You felt the fabric loosen, and your nervousness picked up again as your hands halted, still holding the clasps together gently.
You got past getting your shirt off...but now your bra just felt so different too. You would be totally half naked-this was totally uncharted territory again, another hoop to jump through.
Yuuji instantly picked up in that, hand wrapping around your cheek lovingly.
āFeeling nervous again?ā He asked gently,
You nodded your head, breathing in a deep breath.
āCan you-can you take off your shirt?ā You said, swallowing a ball of saliva from your request. āIād feel a little better if we had the same amount of clothes on-ā
Yuuji smiled, almost in relief. āYeah of course! We both are gonna be naked at some point, mine as well do it-ā
In one swift motion he had ripped off his shirt, not a care in the world-and for good reason.
He was built perfectly, skin taught against his muscles, your eyes fixated on how the ripples moved with each motion.
How the hell was he this fucking hot?
You must have looked like a deer in headlights, because Yuuji chuckled saying, āI donāt think Iāve seen you stare this much since we saw that puppy at the park the other day-ā
You swatted his chest, your nose scrunched up as you surprised a chuckle, giving him a fake glare.
āFor your information, that puppy was adorable and you know it,ā you laughed, feeling comfortbale enough to coax your bra off your body. You shuffled against the headboard of his bed, bra long forgotten on the sheets.
Yuuji gulped, realizing you were undressed from the top, his teeth gnawing at his lip at the sight in front of him.
āLook whose turn it is to stare,ā you joked, yet the waver in your voice showed your true emotions.
āHow can I notā¦ā he breathed, his digits gently trailing against your stomach, āyouāre perfect.ā
ā-can I touch you?ā He asked quietly, his eyes looking up at your flustered expression.
You nodded gently, Yuujiās face looking as nervous as yours as his digits rose to cup your breasts, giving the tender skin a squeeze.
He just looked in awe of your body, not fully aware of what to do-until his thumb rain against your harden nipples, a small mewl escaping your lips.
That seemed to wake him up, his lashes blinking a few times, leanng in and taking you into his mouth, his tomgue swirling against the sensitive bud.
The sensation coursed through your body deliciously, a long sigh escaping your lips as some pent up desire seemed to dissipate as he worked on your chest, placing open mouth kisses on your sensitive skin, licking the buds until you were moaning and tugging on his hair gently.
He seemed to be satisfied by your reactions, placing small kisses against your stomach, trailing down to where your pants met your skin.
You were catching your breath from the moments before, that heat in your core growing even more without to the point you were depserate for any release again. HIs wide eyes looed up at you, and digits loosely wrapped against the hem of your pants.
He was silently asking for permission yet again, your heart swooning at how gentle he was being with you.
āYuujiā¦ā you groaned out his name, voice airy yet full of desire, āneed you there-ā
You heard him chuckle, hands tightening slightly against your pants.
āGod, you make it so hard to control myself...ā he pushed back his hair with his hands, a small smile on his lips.
āBut we cant do that just yet...okay if I take your pants off?ā
What do he mean "not yet"? Why couldnāt he just fuck you now-you felt a little frustrated but more excited for what he had planned, quickly nodding your head as he pulled your underwear and pants off in one motion, the garments dropped to the floor.
Yuuji shuffled against the sheet, his hands trailing from your hip bone, around the curve your ass and against your thighs.
He gently bent your knees, making sure to keep an eye on your face and body language.
You had your eyes shut, feeling heat rushing to your face from nervousness, the air chilling your heated skin.
This didnt feel real...but it was at the same time. You could feel every touch from Yuuji, his hands getting closer and closer to your heat, your body aching forhim to touch you but terrified at the actual act.
āYou have your eyes closed babeā¦is there anything on your mind?ā He asked you gently, the sheets shifting as he lowered himself closer to your body.
You peaked your eyes open, breath hitching as you caught a glimpse of his face between your thighs. He looked so kind, that small grin he had making your heart thump in your chest.
āN-nothing,ā you grinned sheepishly, shifting deeper on the bed, ājust wanted you to keep going,ā
Yuuji smiled, seemingly relieved to hear your answer.
His hands trailed dangerously close to your cunt, your eyes watching his every move. Until he faltered slightly, hands trailing in the crook of your thigh.
āSo prettyā¦ā he breathed under his breath, his digits finally touching you where you needed it most. He trailed a digit down your lower lips, a starngled breath escaping your mouth at the sudden sensation.
His digits lightly travelled up, almost testing how youād react, pressing his thumb lightly against your clit.
āYouāre so wet, and I barely touched you,ā
Yuuji didnāt say it with an ounce of teasing or malice in his tone-it was almost he was speaking to himself, in awe at the thought that your body would react so well to his touch.
āPlease Yuuji, keep-keep going,ā you pleaded silently, slightly embarrassed at how needy you sounded.
You felt him come even closer to you, his breath fawning over your cunt.
āOf course baby,ā was all he said, his thumb rubbing circles against your clit, the sensations sending warm pleasure throughout your body.
You sighed, a moan slipping from your mouth as you clutched the sheets, so engrossed by his touch.
The gentle touches slowly turned into harsher rubs, your body loving the course of pleasure riding throughout you. God, you loved this so much, this was so much better that doing this in your own-
āHmmm, Yuuji,ā you whined, the feeling of being empty making your body squirm in an attempt to feel whole again.
āJust wnated to try something else-ā he muttered with a grin, his hands quickly latching into your thighs with a frenzy you hadnāt seen before.
You quickly propped yourself up, curious to what he meant by āsomething elseā, the question in your lips as Yuuji latched in to your clit with his mouth, your body suddenly falling back to the bed with a heavy moan.
Fuck, this felt good. His tongue was really going at it, lapping up everything you had, pressing hard again your clit to the point you were moaning out his name.
Yuuji entered a finger into your cunt slowly, the new sensation causing you to hitch your breath, feeling his thick knuckle against your walls.
Yuuji broke from your clit, chest rising and falling at a faster pace.
āAre you-are you okay with me doing that?ā He asked, a quick nod coming from you.
āYes, yes itās okay,ā you said feverishly, hating how your built up orgasm was dissappearing. āJust keep going!,ā
Yuuji quickly listened to your request, going back to your cunt and lapping up your juices, pressing deep into you with his finger, which slowly turned into two right after.
You could feel him begin to spread his digits inside you, the sensation causing slightly discomfort at how new it felt.
Yuuji noticed your whine and how you shimmied in his touch, pressing a kiss to your lower stomach.
āGotta-stretch you a bit, Iām sorry,ā he apologized, giving you a soft gaze, āitāll be better for when we do the real thing,ā
You simply mumbled an okay, beginning to roll your hips slightly to his fingers, already feeling used to it and loving the feeling of his knuckles against your walls, driving in and out of you.
āFuck-ā Yuuji sighed, watching your hips roll to the beat of his digits, mouth flying back to your clit and sucking on it harsher than before.
It felt like too much, his fingers running deep into you, his tongue pressing into you so well that the heat of your orgasm quickly built up in your stomach-
āYu-Yuuji,!" you gasoed out, your back arching as the orgasm rushed over you, sending your body into overdrive. Yuuji continued to keep going in a rushed state, tongue lapping up every last drop of your juices. Even though it felt great, it was still too much on your body as your legs turned to jelly and your heat felt overly sensitive to his touch. Your hand that was curling his hair between your digits was now pushing him away, forcing him to keep off you with a lewd pop of his mouth.
Even though you were an embarrassed wreck, Yuuji was smiling as if he was on cloud nine.
āYou donāt know...how long...I wanted to do that,ā he said between breaths, his muscles responding to each inhale and exhale.
āObviously-" You rolled your eyes playfully, your pussy pulsating as you tried to get down from your high.
Yuuji chuckled to himself, sitting under his knees, looking down at the sheets with a conflicted look.
Thatās when you realized you could touch him now. This whole time he was touching you but...you hadnāt been able to feel him once. You never were able to run your hands against his chest, or press kisses over his skin, or even touch him where you knew he needed it most right now.
Your hand felt shaky but your mind determined, eyes trained on his skin.
Your digits gently touched his skin, traveling against his collarbone from his sternum, the peak of his abdominals, right down to his pelvic bone. His belt was right there, just asking to be taken off, your blood coursing with nervousness as you reached the object. You looked up at him wirh big doe eyes, biting your puffy bottom lip.
Fuck, you couldnāt look any hotter to him right now.
āYuuji, please-ā you pleaded, hands gripping that belt like it was your anchor, ācan you please just-just fuck me?ā
Your face couldnāt even more embarrassed by what you just said, unable to imagine you had just said that out loud. Yuuji almost looked as if he felt the same way, his excitement getting the better of him as he furiously shook his head.
āYeah, yeah yeah!ā He repeated quickly, gulping down a ball of saliva as his hands feverishly undid his belt. āWe can totally do that, no problem at all-ā
His excitement made your nervousness fade slightly, a giggle escaping your lips.
āSomeoneās excited,ā you teased, watching as he fumbled to pull his jeans off of his legs. Your hands went to gently help to guide them down, Yuuji giving a sheepish grin.
āWell, how can I not-ā he said truthfully, kicking the fabric off his legs. āYouāre my dream girl, Iāve always imagined how this would be like with you.ā
God he was too sweet-you momentarily forgot of the sensual situation around you, heart full of love for the man in front of you.
āHas it been up to your expectation?ā
āAbove and beyond,ā he responded sweetly, placing a quick kiss to your lips as his digits looped around his boxers, dragging them down.
Your breath hitched in your chest, eyes glued to Yuujiās completely bare body. This was the first time you had seen him completely naked, and holy shit did he not disappoint.
Was it even fair to be this pretty? He looked unreal, his body a masterpiece of its own.
You gulped as you eyes trailed down to the sight of his dick, the skin flushed pink, the tip a bright red. You may not know much about dicks but, he most deifnitely was not average. His length and girth made you both terrified and excited, wondering if he really could fit inside you with how much he was packing.
Wait- if he was that big, could he seriously snap you in half?
Would you even stop him if he did?
Probabaly not.
Your mind was completely enraptured by his dick, hand gently reaching out to touch it, your mind now curious of what it would feel like to touch him like that.
You barely wrapped your hand around the shaft, when you heard a hiss from Yuuji, his eyes half lidded as he was holding himself back.
You felt a power come over you, thumb rubbing against a vein in the side of his shaft.
āSensitive?ā you whispered simply, Yuuji groaning as your digits gently trailed up his dick.
āHeh, Uh, y-yeahā¦mmmā he tried to make some type of intelligent answer, but fuck, it just felt too good. Even though you were barely doing anything, knowing you were practically in control was turning him on. You were becoming so sure of yourself for first time-and god, he was loving how you practically looked at him like you worshipped his body.
Oh fuck-your thumb rubbed against the slit of his dick, making him groan deeply as he fisted the sheets, trying so hard to hold back.
The thoughts running in his mind were no where near innocent, and his body was desperately wanting him to just shove your pretty lips onto his dick, seeing the spit dribble down your mouth, eyes teary from how well his dick made you feel-
āNo-no more, baby,ā he said breathlessly, hand flying to stop your wrists from exploring more of him. āI wonāt be able to control myself if you keep goingā¦ā
āBut I donāt want you control yourself Yuuji,ā you stated softly. You didnāt seem fazed that he stopped you, only more intrigued and desperate, hands gliding up his chest and wrapping behind his neck. You pushed yourself into his chest, the feeling of your boobs so close making heat rush to his groin yet again.
āDamn, you really do make this hard-no pun intended,ā he tried to laugh it off, but fuck, do you know how hard youāre making him, how painful this throbbing in his crouch was right now? All he wanted to do was pin you down, making you scream, take you all night long...but he knew his pretty girl couldnāt do all that on her first try. He was going to have to make it slow...but god, you werenāt making it easy.
āLetās start, yeah? If thatās okay with you?ā
āMm-hmm,ā you hummed in agreement, releasing your hold on Yuuji and laying yourself down.
āJust tell me what to do, okay?ā you said quietly, Yuujiās eyes completely glued onto the beauty of your body. āI trust you Yuuji.ā
Yuujiās chest filled with pride at the words, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead.
āI promise Iām going to make this as great as I can for you,ā he promised, a warm smile on his lips.
His hands wrapped around your hips, tugging you gently closer to him.
āStill up for it, pretty girl?ā He asked, his thumb gently rubbing your waist as he hovered over you, his dick inches from your entrance.
āYes, I wanna do it, I really wanna do it,ā you repeated, your hips so desperate to find a release of tension between your thighs.
Yuuji chuckled, a simple āokayā dribbling from his lips as his hands lined himself up to your entrance, leaning into you as his muscular arms caged you in.
That first sensation of being filled by Yuuji were strange, your walls being stretched like never before.
You were right-he felt like he was going to break you in half, and you definitely needed adjusting to that monstrous cock.
It should be illegal for someone to be that big, cause- fuck, this kinda hurt.
āWait, Wait...Yuuji-!ā You patted against his chest, nails gripping for some level on grounding.
Yuuji was pressing kisses all over you shoulders and cheeks, whispering how well you were doing and how well you were taking him, muffled curses escaping under his breath.
You felt how tense his muscles were from the sensation of being inside you, your eyes squinted shut as you tried your hardest to feel comfortable around him.
āYou-you o-okay?ā He stuttered out, cheeks a cute shade of pink.
āMm-hmm,ā you hummed, nodding your head quickly as the sensation slowly ebbed into pleasure, ākeep going-ā
Yuuji took no time, slipping himself fully into you slowly. You felt that slight pain again, Yuuji kissing you to swallow your moans. Your back arched slightly from the feeling of him inside you so deeply, Yuuji groaning of being inside you.
āGod, youāre so tight-ā he moaned, not even trying to be discrete at he stared at your body.
Yuuji was looking down at where his dick disappeared into you like he was completely in awe, chest heaving for breath at the sight.
Yout felt embarrasment fill your stomach, your hands flying to Yuujiās chest and gripping his shoulders as hard as you could (which wasnāt very tight, your limbs felt like jelly).
āYuuji-please-just starting moving,ā you begged, Yuuji shaking his head out of his trance.
āYeah-of courseā¦ā he said hastily, a sheepish grin enveloping on his face as he dipped out of you, and pushed back in.
The sensation sent a small squeak out of your lips, Yuuji smiling at how adorable you were. His skin felt flushed as he continued to pump in and out, trying so hard to be calm with his thrusts.
It was taking everything in him to just keep going softly, and not ram you into his headboard. But Yuuji was too sweet to take advantage of you like that, especially on your first time.
āYuuji...you-you gotta go faster,ā you grimaced as he halted inside you, missing how his dick rubbed against your soft walls.
To Yuuji, you said the magical words that were solving all his problems at the moment.
He slowly picked up the speed, moans slipping out of him as he pounded into you gently, loving the sweet faces you were making for him.
āY-yyuji...y-you-mmm...you-gotta be...more-quiet,ā you trembled between thrusts, your skin clammy with sweat and voice taking on a whiny tone as you tried to calm down your huney boyfriend.
āHmm...babe,I-I canāt,ā he groaned, āy-you just feels so goodā¦well just say we-fuck... we- we were watching Fifty Shades of Grey- or..or something-"
You couldnt help but giggle at his words, the idea so silly coming out of him, a moan being ripped out of you suddenly as he hit a sweet spot inside you.
Yuuji picked up the pace after that, the sound of skin making a lewd echo through Yuujiās small room. Anybody walking by could put two and two together, especially from the obnoxiously thin walls. But at that point, you couldnāt find a reason to care. The only thing on your mind was Yuujiās dick slipping in and out, his pretty moans that he was only making because of you, the kisses he left on your skin, the way he praised you like you were the best thing in his life.
That build up of heat in your core began again, your legs spazzing at the overwhelming sensation.
āBaby, Iām gonna-ā Yuuji began to tell you, his thrusts now becoming way harsher to the point you were gripping onto his back just to feel connected to the ground.
āMe too,ā you sighed tightly, trying to give him a smile that turned into a lewd expression as he hit that sweet spot deep inside you again.
You felt Yuujiās dick twitch deep inside you, pausing slightly as warmth filled your walls. He stopped moving, catching his breath as his pink hair tickled your forehead.
You scrambled to grip his back, desperation in your voice as you whispered, āPlease keep goingā, needy to find your release.
āSweet girl..ā he chuckled breathlessly, obviously on cloud nine as he pressed a kiss to your shoulder.
Itadori did exactly that as he was told, pushing deep inside you to that delicious sweet spot, making you moan at the sensation. He picked up the pace, that warm knot in your stomach growing at a much faster pace. It felt like earlier, but so much more intense, making your brain turn to mush and your legs into jelly.
Yuuji was back at it with his sweet nothings, his words practically sobbed out from his overstimulation (poor thing).
āCmon, please make that face again, god you look so pretty like that-ā
āYou doing okay? It feel good?ā
āFuck, youāre so tight fuck fuck fuck-ā
Youāre nails were gripping his shoulders, the slight sting making his arousal kick in even more, your moans of āIām close-ā sending a shiver down his spine.
āY-Yuuji-ā you cried out, his dick hitting that spot that made your whole world finally tumble, eyes rolling back and back arching as the shock wave rose through your body.
It felt so good, so so warmā¦.youād never get enough of this feeling.
You were breathing hard...but god that felt amazing. Even as you brought down from your high, you couldnāt help but smile. It just blissful, like a calm after a very (horny) storm.
Yuuji was trying to catch his breath as well, a sheepish grin on his face as he hovered your body, skin blushing red.
He gently pulled himself from you, that sensation of being empty making you feel slightly sad that it was over.
Oh well- there was always next time.
āSo...uh-how was it?ā He asked, his voice incredibly shy.
What he really meant was āHow was I?ā, that little bit of insecurity making your heart thump in your chest.
āYou were perfect, Yuuji,ā you smiled tiredly, digits wrapping around his cheeks as he beamed at you. He was just so adorable, like a proud puppy who was happy they pleased their owner.
āGoodā¦ā he smiled in relief, pressing a kiss to your forehead. He laid his body on yours, snuggling into your shoulder, which coaxed a giggle out of you at how needy he was being.
You tenderly brushed his damp hair off his forehead, twisting the pink strands around your finger, creating light curls in his soft hair.
An idea popped in your head, the image causing you to smile sheepishly.
āHey Yuuji-ā you asked, hearing a hum of recognition coming from his chest.
āUh, next time, think I could take the lead?ā
He instantly picked up his head, a little too excitedly.
āYou meanā¦ you be on top?ā
āYeah, why not- you took such could care of me,ā you smiled, digits tracing his facial features, thumb barely grazing against his lip, āI want to return the favor.ā
Yuuji gulped, eyes blown out in shock and excitement he was trying desperately to calm down.
āY-yeah, uh, sure!ā he chuckled gently, shuffling awkwardly on top of you.
You squinted your eyes mischievuosly, as you chuckled.
āYou just got turned on again, didnt you?ā
āAw, cmon babe, how could I not?ā he whined, trying to defend himself. āYou said that way too hot!ā
Bonus:
Yuuji had offered to take you out for ramen and some ice cream, feeling a little bad that when you tried to get up to the bathroom you could barely walk without limping like an old person.
Dressed up in one Yuujiās old shirts you loved, a messy bun, and your favorite pair of shoes, you were holding hands with your boyfriend until you relaized you forgot your phone, running back to his room to get it.
Yuuji was left all alone, waiting for you outside as he noticed Megumi walk by.
āHey Fushiguro!ā Yuuji waved, a big smile on his face, āMe and y/n were gonna get some ramen! Wanna join?ā
Megumi stopped, giving Yuuji a very painful, strained look, as if he couldnt bring himself to look at him.
āIs everything good Fushiguro?ā Yuuji was honestly confused, tilting his head to the side.
Megumi sighed tightly, finally able to look his friend in the eye.
āThe hell were you doing in your room earlier? I was trying to sleep and- uhā¦ā
Yuuji had never seen his friend tongue tied, and honestly, he was too. He couldnt just tell him he was having sex- that would be so embrassing to say to him, no matter how close they were as friends.
So, Yuuji being Yuuji, he said the first thing he could think of.
āUh- watching Fifty Shades of Grey?ā he replied sheepishly, wishing he could kick himself after seeing Megumiās very confused and slightly disgusted face.
Yuuji chuckled, scratching the back of head- damn him and his brain! He couldnt think of anything that sounded less creepy?
Both boys heard footsteps behind Yuuji, Megumi the first to see the person coming.
Suddenly, his cheeks turned a bright shade of red, eyes widened as he put two and two together.
āRightā¦.ā he drawled out, giving Yuuji a look that said āyou're the worst liar Ive ever knownā.
There you were, cheeks flushed, wearing a shirt a few sizes too big with messy hair and a slight limp to your walk.
Yeah, poor Yuuj was going to have to pay back Fushiguro. Big time.
Summary: it's your first time, and you are super nervous. but sevika is extra gentle, and takes very, very good care of you.
Pairing: sevika x pillow princess reader (lmao sorry i had to)
Word Count: 962
Tags: soft sevika, heavy smut, fluff, wlw, useless lesbians
You would be very nervous, because she was definitely a lot more experienced than you.
You wanted to look pretty for her, so you wore some lacy lingerie but now you were also sort of embarrassed because she could see everything. But she loved every single part of your body. She thought you looked like a work of art, laying in the bed beneath her.
You would try super hard to hide your blushing face, but she could always tell.
Sevika would be surprisingly very gentle at first, because she could see how scared you were. She would give you soft, teasing kisses all over your neck while holding your hand.
āDoes it feel good when I do this?ā she would ask in a low whisper as she tortured your sensitive skin with her full lips. āWhat about this~?ā
You would moan while gripping onto the bedsheets as she kissed you, because it felt really good and you didnāt want her to stop, not even for a second.
When she could sense you were more comfortable, she would lightly pull down on your bra, and tease your nipple with her tongue.
She paid very close attention to how you reacted to her every motion, and would slow down if she saw that you were being overstimulated.
Sometimes, she would pause in the middle and ask if you liked it, and remind you that she could stop whenever you wanted her to.
Occasionally, as she planted kisses over your chest, stomach, or shoulders, she would say, āYouāre so fucking beautifulā just so you knew she really did appreciate every single part of you.
She would run her hands from the curve of your waist all the way down to your round hips, just so you could really feel the way her skin felt against yours.
So you wouldnāt have to second guess that she would stop for nothing to leave you absolutely breathless.
While she kissed you all over, she would purposefully brush her hands against your panty, just so you knew that she knew you were thinking about it.
It was a twisted little game she played on you, but you werenāt gonna lie and pretend you didnāt absolutely love it.
She could tell you were beginning to really enjoy it. From the way you buckled your hips, or curled your toes, to how you squeezed so tight on the pillow your head rested on.
āY/Nā¦,ā she would say. āWhat would you think about.. me going inside of you?ā
āI-inside?ā
She would nod, gently prodding at the tops of your panty with her strap, trying to make out what sort of expression you had on your face in the dim lighting of the bedroom.
āOkay, but just go slow.. Please.ā You braced yourself for her by grabbing a tuft of the bedsheets into your fists.
She would gingerly tug off your underwear, smirking when she saw how much you glistened underneath the moonlight that poured in through the side window.
Sevika would take her fingers and rub you so achingly tenderly, causing you to cross your thighs over the other and arch your back into the mattress.
When you were wet enough, she would slowly sink into you until she filled you up all the way.
āShit..ā she would breathe. āSo fucking tight..ā
You would blush uncontrollably, whining into the sheets as she pushed deeper inside of you.
āSevika.. It hurts..ā you would gasp, starting to tear up a bit.
āSh..ā she said. āYou need to relax.ā She would lean down and plant painfully perfect kisses all over the side of your neck. āJust focus on how my lips feel..ā
You werenāt used to this at all. How soft Sevika was to you when she wanted to be. How much she paid attention to your every motion, every expression. The way she adjusted herself accordingly so you were as comfortable as possible.
You would grip onto her strong arms, trying your hardest to calm down and breathe.
Slowly but surely, you felt yourself opening up to her. Her strap suddenly felt like it ignited a fire in your core, as if it lit up something inside of you that you never experienced before.
She could feel your walls gradually begin to loosen up around her, incentivizing her to start moving, even if it was a little bit. You were delicate. She wanted to take care of you.
As soon as she pulled out, and then rammed back in, you could feel her brush up against your most sensitive spot.
āR-right there..ā you would manage to whimper out when she hit that spot again.
āYeah?ā
āUm.. mhm..ā
Sevika wouldnāt stop until you came. It was her greatest reward. Watching your legs shudder as you clasped your hand over your mouth. How your shoulders shook, chest heaved, cheeks flushed, lips parted. And how fucking adorable you sounded when you moaned. Her favorite part.
When you two were done, she would pick you up and have you on her lap on the couch while she sparked a blunt and nursed a glass of whiskey. She might take a smoke, and then shotgun it into your open mouth just so she could watch you stick out your tongue for her.
She would place her mechanical hand on top of your thigh, caressing the side of it absentmindedly every now and then. She would also let you rest your head against her shoulder, watching you fall asleep in her arms while she stroked your hair lovingly.
She was happy you trusted her enough tonight to let her take your first. Because she was willing to take your second, third, fourth, fifth whenever you wanted. You just had to say the word.
Providing that Viktor doesnāt sleep in the lab, his favorite place is next to you in your bed.
He is a relatively cold person (think cold fingers and toes 24/7) so he likes to have lots of blankets.
Heās either a side or a stomach sleeper, and absolutely has to be covered with blankets. No exposed limbs or feet - ever.Ā Ā Ā Ā
If youāre a light sleeper and he gets back late from the lab, youāll wake up the second he walks in the door - much to his dismay because he would do his absolute best not to wake you.
However, he would do his best to quickly soothe you back to sleep with soft kisses to your nose and forehead.
If sleep was still eluding you at this point, Viktor would wrap you in his arms and pull you close to cuddle you until the two of you quickly fall asleep together.
If youāre a heavy sleeper he would want to gently wake you, but not too much, with soft pecks of his lips on your face. Not enough to wake you, just enough so you know he is there.
You spooning him would just make him feel so at peace. He would drift off to sleep quickly and rest so soundly for the entire night. (You cannot tell me this man doesnāt love being spooned. He is touch starved just like all of us.)
If he was spooning you though, he would trail his hand over your exposed skin on your neck, moving down your arm and your side, eventually finding your thigh to give you a squeeze.Ā
He loves when you play with his hair. Running your fingers through it, gentle scratches on his scalp, he instantly melts. He lets out soft little sounds of content.
He likes to hug his pillow when youāre not there - although even the softest of pillows could never replace you.
Warnings: nsfw, sex, smut, unprotected sex (wrap that rascal), oral, AFAB + Gender Neutral Pronouns, period/menstrual oral sex, blood, cum play, cum eating, canon tentacle dicks, creampie, semi-public sex w/door closed & locked, sex toys, slight somnophilia
Content: general and canon accurate freakiness, slutpuppery, canon shenanigans, blatant and detailed smut, cunts, yāknow, the works + afab reader
A/N: for Robotus I did two separate main kinks/prompts with a trigger warning due to how one could be gross for some people and a bit much.
Okay *claps hands* SO! In summary, this is the main group of Cognito Incās preferred state of your nethers and when they give oral and why they eat you out in that preferred state compared to others. Theyāre all gay corporate idiots, itās a guarantee theyāre all gonna be freaks.
Reagan Ridley:
Likes having you stuffed full with a vibrator and seated above her on a workbench or desk, so she can sit back and thumb at your clit while she watches you cry and buck and writhe. All spread for her. Reagan will toy with you and play with your sopping cunt until you canāt take it anymore. Thatās when she wrenches out one last orgasm and catches you before you literally blackout, limbs too gelly-like to sit upright any more. She always tends and takes care of her toys, especially you, her favorite.
- Sheāll eat you out to calm down, not having many outlets nor control in her high stress and high stakes career. Doctor Reagan Ridley, mastermind and incredible scientist, is talented with her hands with machinery and even moreso with fingering you. Sheās got it down to a science, the ridges of your walls, how to get you cumming instantly with certain brushes to your puffy clit, how to curl her fingers against that spongy g-spot to have you seeing stars. Reagan could write a goddamn book on how to make you cum.
- if sheās bored of her current projects and the executive dysfunction kicks in, sheās been known to make you things. Reaganās better than most companies with making you sex toys, probably due to how sheās customized them to you, your needs, kinks, and cunt. Sheās scarily good at it too and youāve got a collective that grows, making it easier for her to fuck out her frustrations and leaving you spent, sated, sore, and grinning wider than lottery winners. You know for damn sure that youāre more lucky than any of them.
Brett Hand:
Will and has eaten you out anytime, anywhere, anyway. But demands you sit on his face and suffocate him. Kill him. Try and wipe him out and send him to heaven with his face stuck between your thighs, because heās already there. His favorite way is locking your thighs over his shoulders and around his head, hands planted on your ass while he hums and laps at your pussy. Heās eager to please and eager to tease, especially talking to you while licking at your folds. Brettās always been one to talk with his mouth full.
- I donāt think heās all too experienced with sex, knowing how to do the basics and to get someone to cum. But Brettās got some room for improvement and youād be glad to fill the gaps in his sexual education with your expertise. Especially with your hands on - or more accurately, hands off - approach. Heās eager and excited, kissing and licking all over. The first rounds heās ever given you go off a bit short and choppy. After a few weeks of him happily going through his weeks long and self-administered oral sex course (that you both find hilarious and a little tragic) heās too notch. Brettās a goddamn pussy-eater professional, spitting on your clit fat and heavy to smooth it in with his thumb while he suckles at your weeping entrance and sucks up the rivulets of cum pooling forth. He can get you cumming as soon as he wants or as drawn out as he can make possible. Goddamn professional.
- Brett loves you so much, and shows it through every motion and action. He makes and shows his love to you, baring it as he bares you, sex always laid back in some way or another. No matter how passionate or heated it is, if itās jealousy sex or a hate fuck (I donāt think heās capable of that last one), heās telling you how much you mean to him, how good you feel, pressing kisses and smiles to whatever skin he can reach. He cares for you and it emanates from him in rolling waves. Heās a keeper, and now heās a pussy god. Marry him.
Gigi Thompson:
Eats you out like a meal whenever she thinks you deserve compliments. Looking hot in that outfit? Puss ate. Smells her body wash on you? Puss, eaten. Itās complimentary and flattery cunnilingus, doting and soft. Gigi loves acknowledging power and what better to do than show her adoration of it and you through sucking your clit while getting you squirting on her fingers after you surprised her with lunch. Cant get enough of it nor you, and shows you just how much she appreciates and adores you and all that you do. Through both sex and other things like her insane talent for gift giving. Her best love languages absolutely teeters between gift giving and sex, back and forth, but with her mouth on you, the latter is truly coming out on too. Or you are cumming out on a top. Whoās to say š¤·š»āāļø
- sheās usually the one with her pussy getting ate more often between the two of you, but just like everything else, sheās gifted with that mouth. Gigi uses oral and that cunning tongue for cunnilingus, eating your pretty cunt till itās soaking her rings and glistening off her lips better than any fenty gloss bomb could. (High key rec that in the shade Fenty Glow Fantasy š) she wonāt even wipe it off, just cleaning up around her lips and on her cheeks and chin, leaving her do-you-herself makeshift lip balm on her pouty mouth and wearing it into the office with a full-body nonchalance that itās got you thrumming with excitement for going home at the end of the day for whatever she has in store for you. She really does prefer to eat you out when youāre just so darling and doe-eyed, when youāre so pretty it makes her dark little heart seize. Gigi fully gives back when people do nice things for her like a fucking competition, and sheās even worse with oral if you treat her to anything sheās not breaching for air in half anā hour youāre stuck and fuck if it aināt the best reward for a job well done.
- also definitely the type to eat you out in a dressing room, a perfectly-manicured hand over your mouth while hers is buried in you, making deliriously lewd noises with how sheās suckling you up and smearing your slick all over between your legs and her cheeks. āGo on, make some noise, show everyone just how pretty this cunt is and how desperate you are for me to pay some attention to it. Trying on those clothes as if I wonāt fuck you right here, oh baby, who do you think I am? That you are dealing with? Ease up honey, youāre tense. Can feelāya clenching. Aww donāt cry, leave those pretty doe eyes wide open and on me honey. There you go, easy. Mhmm donāt you just taste wonderfulā. And she edges forth from her knees to crouch and loom overhead while she stares down, face in a sheen of your slick that almost drips off her, a rivulet running down her neck to her cleavage that has you gushing around her fingers that prod your spongy walls and curl, blessing her short nails centered on her hand around the longer and pointed ones. Bless her nail artist and whatever got you hired at that company, and yourself too, leading you to get your brains and pussy scrambled in a department store dressing room. āWant a taste, honey?ā Blessed indeed.
Andre Lee:
Gross little freak wants you after a workout or when youāre all sweaty and slick and salty, nasty and fresh and earthy. Like straight from the gym or when itās 85+ degrees Fahrenheit and itās humid, your thighs are sticking to the seat and your hairs stuck to the back of your neck. Claims that taste better that way. Donāt even try and argue, heās convinced and burying himself on that hill. Andreās absolutely fucking right and wonāt shut up about it. Little shit.
- he makes it a goal to eat you out at a rave. Heās also so confused when you start protesting and say that you feel gross. Heās just like ??? Because heās happy to clean you all up and youāre always the best way to end his rambling, lack of a filter, and word vomit. Bring that pussy here and let him kiss it all better. Andreās all smiley and handsy too, squeezing at your sides and thighs, nosing at your hip bones and patting your ass as he gets settled between your thighs, winking and teasing as he takes off your underwear and shushing your worries when it peels off your skin from how itās stuck to your body, still in thin sheen from the heat of the air and his gaze. Heāll kiss and lick your pretty cunt better, after all, he isnāt a doctor.
- god and he just gets off on your noises and reactions, he could give a fuck about the heat and your shyness with being a bit sweaty. All squirmy as he bucks and grinds into his own pants, whining and moaning against you even louder as his dick finally presses against the seam of his pants, getting him almost as flushed and warm as you while he eats up all you have to offer while his hands move everywhere available, making and finding purchase wherever he could. Heāll be soaking his pants when you cum against his face and ride him, feeling the scruff of his facial hair scratch at your sensitive skin while you tug his hair and buck in his hold. Heās a sloppy eater, āDoctorā Lee, but fuck if he doesnāt make it better than anything you had before.
Robotus Alpha Beta:
TW: Blood & Period/Menstrual Sex. Manās waving that red banner and proud of it, and weāve all seen that heās not afraid of a little blood. Roās a bit nasty and yāknow what, we love to see it. All musky and dark, tangy and holy in itās own way. Inhuman yet wholly human, natural, and messy. Also loves eating you out when heās fucked you for a while, pussy gaping and tender, overly sensitive, making it easier to play with you and draw out orgasm after orgasm until you canāt even count. Ro loves seeing all the ways he can play with you and how you react, drawing forth all these reactions he captures to memory files, but he loves those the most. Absolutely the type to have a highlight reel of sex or a favorites tab. Slut.
- we all can agree that Robotus is the type to fuck you while covered in blood. Right? Right. He makes that same argument when you are bleeding, cycle wracking your body with cramps that he knows he can fix, orgasms being a very successful relief and solvent to them. But no, you wonāt help yourself. So he does the rest of the things he can until your whimpering becomes too much and he prompts you again, seeing your face scrunched up in pain that he can fix breaking him apart. āLittle one, itāll be fine, just let me-ā āno itās gross, itāll get all over you, donāt wannaā gross you out.ā And he almost fucking laughs but thank god heās got some semblance of decency and timing because she doesnāt and just stares at you before pressing his forehead to yours, brows cocking before he gives you that crooked uplifting grin saved exclusively for his softest moments and when hes trying to cheer you up. āDarling of mine, let me ease your pain. And besides, a little bloodās never hurt either of us before.ā You concede, knowing that if it could ease the pain in your belly that feels like you just whacked with a rolling pin by a grandma on steroids, youād do it. And itās sex with him so why not. He lays down a towel on the bed, easing your worries about staining the sheets or messing everything up. He undresses you, cooing at your curled up form and warming you up with his hands, gently heated and so comforting, like those pocket warmers for the harsh winter months. Bless you Reagan, o beloved creator. But he just tucks you into his arms after undressing himself and opens you up with his fingers, trying to hard to not leave from where he looks overhead, chest to chest as he murmurs praise and kind words while his other hand rolls against the tense muscles in your lower belly, easing the past with every stroke and thrust. After heās satisfied with how prepped you are, which didnāt take long at all with how you were just soaked and so slick and giving your walls were like this. So dusky and tangy, can practically taste the iron in the air while he sucks at the skin beneath your ear as he eases his fingers in and out. Heās about to shift and start to take his boxers off but you plant a hand to his forearm, murmuring something about too much, just his hand, something smaller. Couldnāt take much else. And so he leaves, or so you thought. He just kneels down, snatching the sweater of his you were previously wearing off the carpet of the bedroom before tucking you back up into it. But he bunches the fabric around your waist so heās unhindered as he lowers between your thighs and just, makes home in the sacred heat of your cunt. Youād voice concerns if he wasnāt making you feel phenomenal, senses overloaded with the hormones and with how precise he played at your nerves, dexterous hands toying with your walls as he suckles your clit idly, swirling shapes and letters over your cunt, almost grinning open mouthed when you feel him swirl a heart. Dork.
- This robot is almost fascinated with how you work, wanting to know the intricacies of just how your body and mind functioned. He tries one day, playing with your tender and hyper-sensitive cunt after sex, the thin flow of artificial semen and cum dripping forth from you like a holy water spring. And he loved to indulge in the way you tasted and reacted like this, fast bucks and twitches of your hips drawing him near or away, unable to decide if you wanted more or nothing at all, too fucked out to decide as he ate you out with gusto, silver-tipped tongue rendering you stupid. Ro feeds off that, the shivers and chills, the way your back arches so much and that you tense and shake, how your eyes can flutter shut or roll back. He marks it all to memory, saving it to rewatch over and over later, almost obsessively to convince him and his few instances of irrationality that heās got you, in love with him and addicted to a cock with a metal chassis. He initially wanted all humans gone or at his mercy, but just one, this one, will do.
JR Scheimpough:
Sloppy, literally messy and sticky, just eating you out and trying to bury his face in your cunt like heās trying to get squatterās rights. Loves it when you make him beg to do it, make him earn it, hell, make him pay for it. Bleed him and his wallet dry, here, thereās his black card. Go nuts. Just give him that pretty, wet cunt beneath those soaked underwear and let him unhinge. Itās one of those things equivalent to a glass of brandy and a cigar for him, eating you out and having you seated above him or in front of him always a pleasure and sight to see. Especially when youāre spread over the desk in his office like an art piece, and all for his personal viewing like a private museum gallery unveiling, him and the masterpiece alone. Except in this case, he can touch the art.
- Confirmed in-canon pay pig, canāt even hold his wallet hostage. Fucking try and spend all his money in 24 hours. You couldnāt even do it in a week of buying whatever the fuck you wanted. But when you make him earn it, pluck him of his earnings, the little facets that fill his rich man aura and persona. Pick him apart so he can pull you apart. Please. Pull the Giorgio Armani belt from his the loops of his trousers just above that raging erection heās got, just to wind it around his wrists - better yet - his neck. Tighten the straps while he pleads, fucking begs on his knees before you as you sit perched on the lip of that big desk in his office to put his mouth on you. JRāll work for it before he works an orgasm out of you, settled between your legs and almost eye level with the soaked patch of your underwear and so fucking close to him, temptation incarnate. After he satisfies whatever oral requirements you seek through his pleas and begs, he satisfies your other oral requests. Fucking pounces if not lunges into your cunt and nestles his face there as his glasses move askew, slanted over that beloved sloped button note. Cutie. Slutpuppy.
- but he doesnāt just eat your pussy sloppy when heās begging to, no, he just does it like that. Always. Heās never clean with it and it sucks sometimes because afterwards heāll clean his face with a handkerchief or a pocket square and go back to normal and itās like ?? Goddamnit, next round, right now letās go. Like the sight alone of him smoothing a hand over his face, pussy drowning. Add him wiping your cum off his face? PUSSY IN THE MARIANA TRENCH. Just *poomf* alright letās fuck again this instant old man, get to it. He does of course, literally just happy to be here. Just ruins your schedule and planning because you didnāt have 3+ rounds of sex on your busy itinerary, damnit JR. Will eat you out when youāre getting ready to avoid having to attend social functions he doesnāt really have to attend but goes to. Uses you and that addictive cunt like a get outtaā socialization free-card. How could he not, look at you. How could anyone, ever, resist?
Glenn Dolphman:
He loves waking you up with kissing your pretty cunt. morning smut with you sleepy and drowsy, perfect little wake up call with his mouth over you and seeing you wriggle awake in his hold. Especially for the soft smile you send down his way when you wake up and see him for the first time, with his head between your thighs. Itās taken some adjustment to get used to the whole different face, minding the teeth, but it works. And it works well. The blunt, rounded soft edge of his nose brushes against your clit while he mouths and laps at you, smoothing his palms over your thighs to slowly spread them and stretch you out, licking you clean and clear all over until your dripping in spit and slick. Glennās dedicated Iāll give you that. And some, with how heās eager to please now that heās got you, sweet and cuddly for a giant murder aquatic mammal machine.
- no but heās whipped for you and tries to be a better person, itās an uphill battle, but literally finds this the easiest way to make sure you have a good day and that he sets you off to work with a good mood. Whether or not it leads to a full round of sex or just the oral depends on when he wakes and how sleepy the two of you are. But this man found out he likes giving??? Him??? Regardless, he doesnāt do it every day, he wishes. Glenn spreads it out so itās still special but if you do it even once, like one time and wake him up in the morning or maybe from a nap with a blowjob, heās done. Heās a goner. Heās already in love with you but like goddamn, ring size?? Right now give it. Heād probably ask mid-blowjob too, but actually mean it and not be a Freudian slip or fuck-uppance of the tongue. No but back on the prompt he does love waking you up with eating you out because A, loves the practice, B enjoys seeing and feeling you wake up in his arms, and C, likes eating an early breakfast.
- itās a bit of a tight fit if yāallās bed aināt giant. Heās a big guy, barrel chested with a gut, thick and solid muscle and being tall. An absolute unit in a literal way. Just give his side one of those solid pats like a big dog and hear that solid thunk noise, that typeāa absolute unit. Even with the tight fit, the sight is one of the best to wake up to, him kneeling beneath the sheets with the comforter draped around his shoulders. Thick, sloped nose bumping at your puffy and spit-slicked clit as his eyes glint up at you with a mirthful look, making him seem a bit younger. And just the way heās eating you out, slowly opening you up and stretching your thighs over those big, broad, solid shoulders of his that has the inner muscles of your legs twinging with that almost-too-much stretch. But he kisses it better, pressing pecks to your warm, sleep-soaked skin as he goes back and forth between lapping and drinking you up to kissing at your soft flesh. His arms are hooked beneath the swell of your ass, lifting you into an arch that allows him to just bury his face in that pretty pussy of your that he loves so much. God he could die there and be a happy man. And he just might with the way your legs consistently try to shut. āKeep tryinā babycakes, aināt goinā nowhere.ā Deceased.
Magic Myc:
NASTY, I donāt think he can really do oral but he loves having your holes stuffed and overflowing with his cum and spunk and just plays with it like the lewd fuck he is. Scooping up his cum to plunge it back into you while youāre squirming and clenching around everything heās stuffed you with. This mushroom man leaves you coated and covered with his cum like a fucking Jackson Pollock painting, splattered and drenched in it. Sadly, you love it, and heād be smirking with that smug ass voice if he had a mouth. You kinda wish he did but he makes up for it with the several dicks on his body. Amen and shoutout to the mushroom gods š
- Why does he need a spank tank when heās got you? Answer, itās his job that allows him a giant brownstone to fuck you in. Doesnāt mean he doesnāt pump you full until youāre leaking a puddle of cum that looks like itās straight from a goddamn Lisa Frank coloring book cover, shiny and luminescent in that off-bluish green color that can fade to pastel purple. Yeah, he didnāt warn you the first time and may I just say he couldnāt stop laughing for fifteen minutes after you started losing your shit at the puddle of blue cum flowing forth - āMyc itās BLUE why is it BLUE, WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING- MYC!ā. He always pays a little closer attention to which dicks he fucks you with or how much with how itās technically a psychedelic and high-inducing drug thatās used in various experiments and etc. He can alter how reactive it is, which is a relief if you need a quickie before a meeting and donāt want to be high as balls while attempting to discuss quality maintenance and supply chain to a bunch of suits. Anyways- when Mycās feeling particularly happy and wants to share that mood with you, he fucks you into it until youāre just as smiley and giggly as he is, high or not.
- but this idiot gets off on getting you off while marking you, claiming his territory and all that silly instinctual stuff. But he loves it, and knows how to do it well. Silky sheets and lights dimmed, praising you and making you feel good, (tentacle?) dick pressing at your cervix and bruising you in ways that have you keening and whining, tears welling at the corner of your doe eyes. Myc tells you how pretty you look with that cooing voice, ironically similar in tone to his sarcasm with you, and guides you to cumming while his voice picks in pitch, getting frantic with his thrusts and not noting the swell in his other tentacles. He soaks you full, warmth filling your body and belly sending you hurtling towards orgasm as he nudges your clit, crying out silently as you seize and shake. Youāre both utter messes, and canāt get enough of each other. Well, maybe some food, then some more of each other.
Request: āCan I please request some NSFW Viktor headcanons with an S/O who has a praise kink? The man can get it imo.ā
Pairing: Viktor x Reader
A/N: Happy birthday, Viktor!!! I tried to keep the readerās lifestyle fairly ambiguous so you can imagine youāre in Company 8, at Hajima, with the anti heroes, or wherever! NSFW under the cut.
When Viktor found out you had a praise kink, it had been completely by accident. He had complimented you on your work - that impressed tone in his voice as he genuinely admired your skills - and he had noticed how you blushed.
He had stared for a moment before the light of understanding shone in his eyes. That signature smile of his had spread across his face but, this time, there was a playful quirk to the edge of his lips.
Thus began his experimentation. He was a scientist after all and you had become his newest fascination.
He worked his way up slowly, gauging your reactions each time.
āYou did a great job on our mission yesterday,ā Viktor told you one night, your cheeks heating at his compliment. Watching closely with that knowing look in his eyes, he returned your smile.
He continued with the small tokens of his appreciation, his words remaining innocuous in a way that you could chalk up to kindness. That is, until he pushed a little harder.
āYouāre being so good for me today,ā he praised while you were helping him with one of his experiments and the jolt of satisfaction that rushed through you was so strong you almost lost your grip on the lab equipment you were holding.
When Viktor smiles this time, itās a little sharper around the edges.
He doesnāt layer it on too much, every compliment he gives you is sincere. Every word is real and his praise always makes your heart soar. When he tells you youāve done a good job, itās because youāve earned it, and that warm gratification settles right between your thighs.
He continues to push you, teasing you and working you up. Even when you both fall into bed together, heās still conducting his experiment on his newest and favorite test subject.
āYouāre doing great. Keep going, that feels so good,ā Viktor groans as you take him into your mouth, looking down at you on your knees between his legs with a dazed smile spread across his face.
āFuck, youāre so good at this,ā he breathes as he threads his long fingers into your hair, brushing your bangs out of the way so he can watch as you bob your head up and down on his length.
āYouāre amazing, how did I get so lucky?ā he praises after he spills himself between your lips before he reaches out with a curled finger to tilt your chin up to meet his gaze, āNow get on the bed so I can give you your reward for being so well behaved.ā
It isnāt just in his words either; itās in the way his large hands squeeze you, how tightly his arms hold you, and in the sounds he makes as you bring him pleasure that feels like praise.
āYouāre doing such a good job,ā Viktor chuckles breathlessly as heās burying himself inside of you, watching your pleasure unfold on your face, āI canāt wait to feel you cum around me.ā
He pays close attention to your body, every moan and every thrust teaching him how to better bring you to bliss. He has a sharp mind and it takes him little time to learn exactly how to fill you to make you moan in ways you never knew you could.
When he can feel that youāre just on the brink of your orgasm, your whole body wound tight and ready to break beneath him, he sends you over the edge with his voice.Ā
āGood pet,ā Viktor rumbles into your ear and itās enough to make you cum.
His aftercare is filled with his whispered words of devotion as he scatters soft kisses across your skin. He mutters praise after praise against your throat, his hands tracing the shape of you in a way that feels reverential.
āYou make me feel so good, youāre incredible,ā he hums before kissing you sweetly, whispering against your mouth, āYou took me so well, Iām so proud of you.ā
His words always make your heart swell in your chest because, when he compliments you, you know you earned it.
