Following Instructions

[Explicit] AO3

Silco x f!reader, BDSM, Smut, Established Relationship, Impact Play, Spanking, Sex Toys, Non-Penetrative Sex Toys, Dom Silco, Dom/sub, Praise Kink, degradation kink, Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Aftercare

Word count: 3.7k

Inspired by an impact play session/demo I got to enjoy this weekend, I wrote a Silco/reader fic. Thanks to my bestie for the lesson and my husband for indulging me and learning alongside me.

Silco does not take kink lightly. If you cannot follow his rules, he will not indulge you in your fantasies. You try impact play for the first time with your pain and pleasure entrusted to his practiced hands.

"Knees on the bench, elbows on the bed."

Standing in Silco's bedroom, your body buzzes with anticipation and anxiety. You've been wanting to try this for a while, but wanting and actually doing are two very different things.

A bench with a red velvet cushion on top of it sits at the foot of Silco's bed. When you kneel on top of it and bend over as instructed, you realize just how perfect the position and height is for both of you for this activity. Makes sense, given that's the exact reason he has such a piece of furniture.

The cushion is soft against your knees, but not nearly as soft as the thick comforter that lay across Silco's bed. Rich textures tickle your forearms and your palms as you get into position.

"Now repeat to me what we're doing."

Silco's voice is even, a calmness that comes with the quiet confidence he exudes. But you can hear the hint of possessiveness underneath it and it sends heat to pool in your core.

You wet your lips and nod. Silco was very clear that, if you cannot speak explicitly about what you're doing, what you're comfortable with, and what the rules are, he would not be indulging you in this. The professionalism you've come to admire as his business associate does not end at the bedroom door. If anything, he's even more strict.

"You will be…hitting— spanking me…"

Out of your periphery, you see him nod, beckoning you on.

"With a series of instruments."

The aforementioned instruments lay on the bed in front of you, just out of your reach. Silco has four in order of severity. Before you had crossed the threshold into his bedroom, he had made it clear that you are fully in charge of how many of these he will use. He had also told you what type of pain to expect from each.

"Good."

Your walls clench. He prompts you again.

"Where?"

"My… ass."

You hear footsteps behind you as he paces, watching.

"And?"

"The back of my thighs."

More footsteps. He walks into your line of sight, appearing to the side of the bed. A slender arm reaches down and picks up a leather paddle, its handle about five inches long. The business end of it is a rectangle about seven by three inches wide.

He straightens up, mismatched eyes locking with yours.

"What are you to do after each hit?"

You recall his instructions and recite them out.

"Tell you a number from 1-10 on my pain scale."

He nods, his left hand bracing the flexible paddle as he rests the flat end on the palm of his right.

"For today, the highest I will do for you is seven."

You nod.

"I will not do anything past seven until I've deemed you've had enough personal sessions with me."

He leans forward bringing you almost nose-to-nose.

"Do we have an understanding?"

Your throat bobs.

"Yes."

His eyebrows cocks.

"Yes, sir," you're quick to correct yourself.

He straightens back up, hiding the instrument of your pain and—if this goes as you think it will—pleasure behind his back before stepping out of your view to hover behind you.

"Last question. What do each of the colors mean?"

Your lips part as your eyebrows furrow, confused. But then, you suddenly remember.

"Green means to keep going. Yellow means pause or I need a break."

"And red?"

"Stop everything entirely."

You hear the unmistakable sound of leather creaking as Silco's grip tightens around the slapper. Your heart is in your throat, the molten lava in your core growing even hotter by the second as you wait. As you kneel with nothing but a pair of lace panties on, you wonder if Silco can see how wet the fabric is getting as it clings to your pussy.

"Good girl."

Your walls clench again and you almost sigh from his voice alone.

"Eyes forward."

Your eyes stare ahead at the wooden headboard. And then—

Thwack!

Silco hits your right cheek. The strength behind it is weak but your hips jump forward nonetheless, startled by the sensation.

That wasn't too bad.

Silco clears his throat behind you.

"One."

Thwack!

Silco hits the exact same spot again, this time with a bit more force behind it. You can feel the sting of his swing, a wonderful warmth blooming on your skin.

"Two."

Footsteps. And then—

Thwack!

Silco strikes you on the left cheek to even out the sensation. A small sigh escapes your lips and your eyes flutter closed. For a moment, you forget yourself, lost to the buzzing feeling in your head and the stinging sensation on your ass.

Silco says your name sternly.

"Sorry, sir!" You squeak out. "Three."

Thwack!

"Ah!"

Your voice comes out as a startled cry, Silco's timing between hits speeding up. You want it again, so you try to think of a number as quickly as your lust-adled brain can conjure.

"Three."

Thwack!

Silco hits the back of your right thigh and a low moan hums along your throat. You press your face into the mattress, eyes closed and lips curled into a drunken smile. Heat pools between your legs and you let you mouth fall open to let out a contented sigh. As you do, your number tumbles past your lips.

"Five."

Thwack!

Same intensity, other thigh.

Your fingers dig into the comforter, balling up the fabric into your palms as you let out another sigh.

Silco lets you savor the moment, not prompting for your number just yet. You wiggle your hips happily as you feel your pulse in your skin, little fires all along the places he's hit you.

Your head feels light, your thoughts a blank slate. All you are is this moment with Silco.

In his bedroom.

Face against the sheets.

Ass in the air.

Your pain and pleasure entrusted to his practiced hands.

"Five," you sigh.

Silco hums behind you. You can feel his warmth as he steps a bit closer. Without warning, he starts to tap the paddle against your right cheek, light and fast. Each slap is only a one on the pain scale, but he's doing each in such quick succesion that it makes your head buzz. There's a wonderful fluttering sound as the leather continues to slap your ass, a sweet stinging against your skin.

He adjust his grip and gives your left cheek the same treatment. Light taps, as if he's trying to keep the warmth underneath your skin from cooling down.

Just as you think he'll maybe do the same treatment to your thighs, he adjusts his stance, pulls his arm back, and sends the paddle thundering onto your right cheek.

Thwack!

"Ahhh!"

Your walls clench as your pussy weeps to soak your panties. Speechless, you arch your back as you ride out the stinging sensation. You can feel pleasure coursing through your veins, radiating outward from your ass until it's rushing through your limbs and settling behind your eyes.

Silco calls your name, a little warmer than before.

"Seven," you whisper.

Thwack!

Equal strength, left cheek.

A long, low, wanton moan purrs along your throat. You find your breath growing shallower as the line in your stomach tightens. You're desperate for friction against your core, to feel Silco's skin on yours.

While you and Silco have had sex before, it was never after something like this. Before this session, Silco had made it clear that sex was most certainly on the table for tonight and that all you need is ask.

Correctly.

"Sir?"

Your voice is shaky with anticipation.

"Yes."

"May I…"

He hums and your walls clench at the low rumble.

"May I have your fingers, please?"

Silco steps forward to stand next to you, one warm hand pressed against your left cheek where he struck you. He rubs soft circles into your skin and you hum, content.

"Just my fingers?"

Your throat bobs.

"I want your fingers and then your cock."

He hums in understanding as he soothes the ache in your other cheek with his hand.

"You're done with the demonstration?" he asks.

There's no disappointment or teasing in his tone. Simply asking for full clarity.

You nod your head. He squeezes your ass in response, his instruction from earlier ringing in your head.

I will not accept any non-verbal answers. You must use your voice to answer me.

"Sorry! Yes, sir."

There's a soft thud as Silco tosses the paddle onto the bed to join its unused brethren.

The hand at your ass smooths down, led by the pad of his middle finger. It glides along your panties until his hand is cupping your mound. Your walls clench and you briefly wonder if he could feel it.

He leans down, bringing his chest to push against your shoulder blade, his nose pressed into your hair. His breath is warm as he whispers into your ear and your eyes flutter closed at the sensation of being caged by his body.

"Are you done taking orders?"

"No, sir," you reply immediately.

The pads of his middle and ring fingers find your entrance and massage it over your panties.

"Mmmm," you hum, smiling.

"You want to be my plaything?"

You wet your lips, arousal soaking through the fabric of your panties to reach Silco's fingers.

"Yes, sir."

You're rewarded for your ability to follow instructions with Silco's hands dipping under the waistband of your underwear to pull them down. You shimmy your hips as he does. You feel his hands maneuver your legs so he can fully slide them off you.

With your panties discarded to the floor, you're now fully naked, still on your knees with your ass in the air.

Silco's hand is at your core again and you feel as if you're going to melt and fuse with the comforter with how good you're feeling. He coats his fingertips in your arousal and the skin to skin contact has you so high you might as well be on shimmer.

"You want these fingers?"

"Yes, sir."

A beat.

"Beg."

You let out a whimper, unable to form words with how desperate you are for relief. Finally, you find your voice.

"Please, sir! Please fill me up with your fingers. I need them inside me."

His fingertips massage your entrance and you mewl at the sensation.

There's a melody behind his voice when he speaks, a teasing, playful tone.

"What pretty begging."

He dips just the tips of two fingers into your pussy, leaving you wanting.

"But I think you can do better."

You whimper again, searching for the right words.

"Please, sir. I only want you. I don't want anyone else inside me. My pussy is all yours."

Both fingers breach your entrance, pushing into you until they can't push in any deeper. Your walls stretch around him and your voice comes out as a low moan. Silco curls his fingers and it almost threatens to send you over the edge.

For a moment, you can't decide how you want to come. Wait for his cock? Come on his fingers? If you come on his fingers now, will he let you come on his cock, too? Will he let you have multiple orgasms or limit you to one?

When all else fails, ask the question.

"Sir?"

"Yes."

"I'm — ah! — getting close."

He hums as if taking notes.

"May I come on your fingers and your cock?"

Another hum, this one with more teasing behind it.

"Such a greedy girl."

You moan at his words.

"Haven't come once and you're already wanting more."

As you continue to have this strained conversation, Silco's fingers curl within you. Meanwhile, your clit has gone completely untouched and seemingly isn't even necessary. You've never felt that before. You've always needed clit stimulation. But with the impact play as foreplay, you're so close already without him even getting close to it.

Your mind scrambles.

"I— I'll come as many times as you want me to."

He chuckles.

For the first time since you entered his domain, you panic. You realize you left yourself open to a very terrible possibility, one you know Silco would notice.

Your assessment is correct as Silco's voice teases behind you.

"Even if that number is zero?"

Your mouth opens and closes idly like a gaping fish. Maybe begging for at least one could work? But something deep within you wants to show just how dutiful you can be, just how well you can follow his instruction.

And, hell, maybe if you deny yourself orgasm tonight, it'll make the next one even wilder when he does let you do it.

"Yes…sir."

Then, Silco does the most startling thing since you started the entire session. Fingers still curling within you, he leans forward, uses his free hand to swipe your hair away from your neck, and plants a tender kiss to the space between your shoulder blades. It's quick and soft and warm. When he straightens up, you realize you would do absolutely anything for this man.

"Don't worry. It's your first time."

His fingers pick up pace and your walls clench around them in response.

"I won't be that cruel."

The wet sounds of him pleasuring you and his words confirming he won't deny you your orgasm sends you toppling over the edge. Your voice cries out in a long moan as you come undone around him, pleasure flooding your system and making your body feel weightless. He guides you through it, pumping and curling his fingers into you as your walls flutter and pulse.

As the feeling subsides, Silco pulls his fingers out of you. You bask in the afterglow, right side of your face pressed into the mattress as your eyes drift closed.

Then, you feel something at your lips. You open your eyes to see Silco's hand—wet with your arousal—pushing two fingers into your mouth.

"Suck," he instructs.

Obediently, you suck on your own juices. As you do, you can hear and feel Silco's free hand working the button on the front of his pants.

"Very good girl," he hums.

Your walls flutter weakly.

He pulls his fingers from you with a pop and you swallow down your release, humming contently.

In your blissed out state, Silco rubs the head of his cock along your entrance, coating himself in your arousal.

"What a pretty little thing you are."

His cock slides along your folds and for the first time, you feel him rub your clit. A soft moan hums in the back of your throat.

"What pretty little sounds you make."

You whimper in response and you feel his cock stutter a little in reply.

"Does my pretty little thing want my cock?"

You hum, content to be used by him.

"Yes, sir."

He leans forward. The intricate textures of his waistcoat dig into your back as he brings his lips to your ear. He whispers and you can hear the slight shake behind his words as he allows himself to get excited.

"The only word I want to hear from your mouth from here on out is my name. No more 'yes, sir' or 'please,sir.' Do you understand?"

"Ye—"

You catch yourself.

A pause.

You nod.

"Good girl."

Silco's cock pushes into you inch by glorious inch, stretching your walls so that you feel the fullest you've felt since the last time you two fucked. The position allows him to push himself all the way to the hilt, reaching deep, deep within you.

"Silco!" you cry out, hips jumping as you feel his pelvis flush with your ass.

His hands are at your waist, long fingers curled around you as if to say, "Mine."

Silco pulls his hips back to draw his cock along your walks before pistoning forward again.

"Ah! Silco!"

Again and again, Silco's fingernails dig into your waist as he pulls out to the head of his cock before slamming forcefully back in. Over and over in a steady rhythm.

Slow out.

Fast in.

"My sweet girl," he hums, voice ragged with desire. "Being ravaged by my cock."

You whimper at the juxtaposition of his words, the tone of his voice, the heat of his hands on you. You want to hear more. More dirty words. More shaky breaths. But with only one word at your disposal, how can you make your desire known?

"Ah!" You hang onto the bed, desperate for release. "Silco?"

"Yes? What do you want?"

You let out a whine, needy and long.

"Do you want my fingers?"

That actually didn't even occur to you. While, yes, you would love his fingers at your clit, that's not actually what you think you'll need to send you over the edge. Not today.

You shake your head.

He hums in surprise. He does nothing to hide the curiosity in his tone.

"You don't want my fingers?"

You nod.

"Then what do you want?"

You desperately look over your shoulder. Quickly you lock eyes with him. Some of his hair sticks to his forehead and the messy look causes you to clench your walls around him. As soon as you know you have his attention, you dart your eyes to his lips, lingering there for a moment before going back up to his eyes.

Understanding slowly paints across his face.

"You want me to keep talking?"

Your eyes alight and you nod enthusiastically.

He chuckles.

"Oh, my dear," he growls as he presses his chest into your back. "I'm happy to oblige."

His pace quickens and you can feel his cock harden further within you.

"Does my little toy want me to tell them how good they've been?"

Your eyes flutter closed and you press your forehead against the bedding, mouth hanging open as you sigh and moan.

"You've been so good for me," he whispers. "So obedient. So clever."

Silco lets out a groan of his own and you answer back with the only word you're allowed.

"Silco!"

"I must admit…" he continues to rut into you, less pistoning and more grinding into you, his cock seated deep within you as he does short staccato thrusts. "I am—ngh!— impressed by how quickly you picked it all up."

"Ah!"

"It's as if this is what you've always wanted," he growls, low and predatory.

"To be trained."

His speed picks up.

"To be used."

You feel your body relaxing into the sensation, your building climax promising to be the strongest you've ever had in your life.

"To be mine."

"Silco!" You cry out as you tumble head first into your orgasm, your walls fluttering and milking Silco's cock as he too reaches his peak. He lets out a long, low groan as he drives himself deep into you and halts, his cock pulsing and drawing out your pleasure.

You feel euphoric and weightless as the sensation goes on and on, flooding your senses. As your body ascends to the heavens, you have one fleeting thought.

I don't think I can go back to vanilla sex ever again.

Silco's death grip on your hips finally loosen. You could swear you almost feel the way his hands shake as he pulls out of you. He's about to step away when you stop him.

"Silco."

He wipes his forehead with the back of his clean hand.

"Speak freely."

"Don't go. Not yet." Blindly, you try to reach for one of his hands, which he offers. "We can get clean in a second; I just want your warmth."

He nods. Then, similar to before, he presses his chest against your back, caging you in. The weight of him is comforting and warm, drawing out your afterglow and the heady feeling of subspace.

"Ah, yes," he hums behind you. "It's hard to know what aftercare you want until your first time."

He speaks into your skin, fingers featherlight as they play on your arms.

"You're so good to verbalize so readily."

You hum.

"And you were so good to me," you whisper.

"Yes?"

For the first time, possibly ever, you hear uncertainty in Silco's voice. As calm, collected, and authoritative as Silco is in his daily life as a businessman, he is still, after all, just a man. A man with insecurities. A man capable of caring very deeply for his people. Who wants the best for them.

And does not want to hurt them.

"This was exactly what I was hoping for," you say with a soft, cockdrunk smile on your face. A look you're not sure Silco sees, given how your eyes have fluttered closed yet again.

"I love the way you made me feel."

Silco shifts above you and you open your eyes to meet his.

"You enjoyed the impact play?"

"I enjoyed you."

His face softens and you continue.

"I don't think I've ever trusted someone as much as I trust you."

The scar at his lips tugs upwards slightly as Silco allows himself to smile.

"I'm glad I could give you that."

He continues to hold you, long after your respective releases have dried on your skin. When finally you signal he can get off you, he does so with a gentle kiss to your hair.

You remain in the same position as Silco retrieves two hand towels from the adjourning bathroom, which he's dampened with warm water from the tap. He carefully wipes you clean with one and then cleans himself with the other, discarding both into a small hamper in the corner.

Then, another unexpected turn. It would seem this encounter with Silco is full of them.

The two of you hadn't discussed what would happen afterward. So it comes as a pleasant surprise when you see Silco start to disrobe until he's as naked as you are.

His hands at your hips, he guides you into the bed. With a lackadaisical push of his hands, he shoves the four toys onto the floor as he pulls the sheets back for you both. You climb in after him, quick to nuzzle your face to his chest.

In the warmth of his bed and the comfort of his arms, you feel calm. His hand plays with your hair, a light massage on your scalp. After pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, he whispers into the small space between you.

"Thank you for this."

Your eyes start to drift closed.

"I would like to do it again, if you're interested."

You hum content, drifting to sleep, two words a soft whisper on your tongue.

"Yes, sir."

A/N: Dom Silco but make it actually have healthy kink practices lol

Taglist: @averagecrastinator @mazikomo @writingmysanity @insult-2-injury @ariaud @jennrosefx @ins0mniac-whack @steponmesilco @sherwood-forests @leave-me-alone-silco @givemebeansnow @aeryntheofficial @dreamyonahill @lostbunn @eurydicethesage @thepineapplesimp @whatisafandom @violet-19999 @juicboxd @sageandberries-png @delta-is-here @mutedwordz @fly-like-egyptian-musk @jennithejester @mrsdelirium @witheringblooddemon @beardedladyqueen

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delicious absolutely delicious

Unpredictable (Nighteye X Reader X Mirio) NSFW

Summary: Even with his Foresight, Mirai doesn’t predict having a threesome with his old mentee and said mentee’s new girlfriend. He isn’t upset about it, though. Some things are better left as a surprise.

Pairing: Mirai Sasaki (Sir Nighteye) X fem!reader X Mirio Togata Word Count: ~ 7.3K Warnings: spoilers for season 4 (but everybody lives), swearing, graphic sex, threesome, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, squirting, spitroasting, no condom, spitting, improper use of Quirk Author’s Note: Y’all pray for me. This is definitely the most explicit thing I’ve ever written. So much sinning involved, good god. After reading this, make me feel better about my disgusting self. ~

Keep reading

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How you managed to make this so sweet and wholesome considering what it's about is beyond me ether way I adore this Nighteye being a good ol creep with a heart of gold

509 notes View Post

black-noir-ink

4 years ago

“Watch and Learn” (Shouta Aizawa x Reader x Shinsou watching lemon)

Had to clarify because people would lose their shit if I wrote them all fucking. Shinsou is an adult. A WHOLE ADULT :LKAJFALJ been getting asks about Aizawa teaching Shinsou how to be a proper Dom and welp if my mind didn’t sneak up and bite my ass. Also I’m feeling soft T^T Thank you Brittpaige for letting me use this wonderful work of art as a cover o////o

Warnings: Sex, exhibitionism, dirty talk, DDLG dynamic, soft shital;kdfja;l

Asking to watch Aizawa and you during a scene was the best decision he’d ever made.

Hitoshi shifted awkwardly in his chair, trying with all his might to ignore the insistent itching in his palm. Fuck. The young pro could hardly believe his eyes.

Your body reacted so powerfully to every word Aizawa uttered: muscles twitching, moans rising in pitch, whines and whimpers pouring from your throat in a seemingly endless stream of pleas and praises. But his mentor’s voice never rose above a murmur. Every calm command was delivered with an easy confidence that made you shiver and moan.

Shouta’s forehead fell to yours, sweat mixing with your own as his hips moved in perfect rhythm. He groaned when he felt your walls flutter around him. A familiar warning that he needed to fuck you steady, and give just the right amount of sensation to make you fall apart.

“That’s it baby… I love feeling that sweet pussy quiver for me. Cum on Daddy’s dick, sweetheart. You can do it.” He kissed the encouragement into your flesh, making your back arch off the bed in ecstasy.

All you could do was nod and whimper. You reached out for his shoulders, gripping tight before he let you wrap your arms around his neck. You had devolved into a pile of “Yes Daddy’s” and “Please, Sir’s” as he slowly fucked you to orgasm.

“Jesus Christ,” Shinsou muttered, covering his mouth with one hand. A viscous heat claimed his cheeks. It was hard to watch this and not let out a moan himself. You were fucking perfect. Every sound and move you made was like something out of his most vivid and explicit fantasies.

Soft, delicate kisses littered your neck. Shouta continued to coax you forward, whispering more praise when he heard your whines rise in pitch. A low growl built in his chest as you let out an unrestrained moan, signaling your release.

“Fuck. Good girl. Don’t stop.”

Your orgasm absolutely wrecked you. Limbs going rigid as Shouta held you through your high. He knew the waves wouldn’t ebb so long as he kept moving, so he never stopped, content to let you drown in pleasure as long as you could stand it.

Finally, your hand came up to press his abdomen, breath coming in heavy pants. With an approving hum he allowed himself to sink inside you completely, capturing your lips in a slow but heated kiss.

“Thank you, Sir,” you murmured when he broke the kiss.

“You’re very welcome, Kitten. So good for me.”

As you regathered your senses, you took a moment to look at Shinsou. He was absolutely fucked. You breathed a small laugh at his expression; cheeks tinted in a full blush, chest heaving from arousal at the sight of his mentor dominating you.

Shouta continued to stroke your hair, never taking his eyes from you when he asked, “Get all the info you needed?” his smug grin gave you goosebumps, but a soft nuzzle of his nose to yours melted them away.

“I… U-Uh.” Shinsou sounded stranded and confused.

“Hmm.” Shouta finally faced him, only to bark a laugh at how flustered he appeared. “You alright kid?”

“Yeah I…” his long fingers carded through his hair and he chuckled, “Whew. Just have a lot to learn-”

“Mmm. It’s all about the mind,” Shouta continued, stroking a thumb over your forehead. You hum in agreement, falling blissfully deeper into the comfort of his embrace “Once you figure her out, you won’t even remember what life was like before you had the beautiful gift of her submission.”

@luxivii @thepandapopo kissthescorpionmidnightsinger groundzerosimp mikakosamasnippzypie bramblepaw513 sinclairsamess teuteusstuff bakugos-wife aiko-lovescats glorioushellboo @elektraeriseros @queensynderella @the-angriestpineapple @saint-eridell @practisewhatyoupeach @present-mel @katsontherun @sailor-manga @hxwks-gf

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fuck Oh fuck.

979 notes View Post

black-noir-ink

3 years ago

Umm personally I don't know why but I see a professor Enji as either a strict maths teacher or a die hard ex military PE teacher that makes ypu run 50 laps for a small mistake but has (secretly) major hots for a certain innocent young student of his 👀

yes yes yes i am all for this ♡

this is an older ask, but lemme scribble out a quick somethin’ for it~

tags/warnings: tw age difference, pervy teacher Enji, tw teacher student, all characters are of age, tw abuse of power, tw power imbalance, virginity kink, sweat kink, punishment

word count: 922

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

You’re faltering.

Twentieth lap and you’re faltering- pace slowing and sweat dripping from your brow, shirt beginning to cling to your form as you force your legs to keep going.

You have thirty more laps before you can stop.

Your crime? Whispering to a friend as you filed out onto the field during class earlier that day.

His punishment? Keeping you after school and making you run fifty laps around the soccer field in the blistering hot sun.

Enji takes a sip from his water bottle and watches as you struggle along your run- eyes hungry and shaded by his sunglasses, arms crossed over his chest.

Such a good student, usually- Enji has never really needed to punish you, scold you. You’re always so respectful, so polite- not like his other students with their smart mouths and vulgar tongues.

Respectful, polite, courteous, and...stunning.

Enji’s eyes follow you and his lashes lower as they take in your bare legs and sluggish stride, the slight jostle of your breasts. You pass him, panting, and you pause just for a moment, bend over and plant a hand on your knees as you try to catch your breath. He takes a moment to enjoy the sight, but then he’s frowning- scowling, eyes narrowed as he huffs.

“Run. You still have twenty laps to go.”

The words have you flinching- shoulders drawing up high as you jolt back up- and Enji thinks he might hear a whimper sound from you as you start to move once more.

Lips twitching, he watches you- standing stoic and still, uncaring of the way the sun beats down on him and has sweat trickling down the back of his neck. You have to be thirsty, he knows, but Enji doesn’t bother thinking about it- instead he wonders if any of the little shits in your grade have got to you yet, if you’re still a good girl or a slut like all the other girls that keep bringing shame to your senior class.

He thinks you’re good- you always shy away from the boys in the class, never really seem to have much friends. You probably haven’t been given the chance to be bad. Which is good, of course- girls like you are rare these days and the thought of some fumbling, inexperienced brat claiming you first sets his teeth on edge.

Innocence is wasted on idiots.

Ten more miles, five- you grow slower and slower with each lap and you only kick up the speed when he tells you to get it into gear. You’re looking haggard now- exhausted and filthy and miserable- and Enji could almost swear your eyes are teary as you pass him on the second to last lap.

Finally, though, you’re done and you collapse onto the bench as soon as you pass the finish line- chest heaving and legs visibly trembling as you pant and gasp. Enji huffs and he reaches into his cooler, presses a bottle into your palm. He towers over you as you eagerly swallow the water down and watches the way your throat moves with the motion, traces the path of a sweat droplet as it slips down your chin, your neck, below your drenched shirt.

Plastic crumples as you squeeze a now empty bottle and Enji nearly snorts at how slick your face is, wets his lips when he’s greeted with the sight of yours- parted and shining, oh so very tempting.

“Have you learned your lesson?” he asks- voice a bit too low, sunglasses sliding down the bridge of his nose to reveal bright turquoise eyes darkened into something murky, ominous. You startle at the question- sluggish, hooded eyes fluttering wide as your lips quiver. He hasn’t seen you like this before and Enji thinks he might enjoy it and the way you curl into yourself meekly, duck your head in submission.

A soft and weary “yes sir” slips from you and Enji clicks his tongue as he watches the way you clasp your shaking hands together- whole body tense and your breasts pressing against one another, the fabric of your shirt clinging to your chest and outlining your bra.

He can’t help but to wonder if what you wear underneath your shirt is white and plain and innocent or if it’s frilly, sweet, cute and so easily torn- if you wear lace or cotton, what shade your nipples are.

Enji allows himself one last look over your trembling form and he huffs, pushes his sunglasses back up into place.

“Hit the showers and head home,” he orders you. “I expect better behavior from now on.”

A flinch and then you’re nodding- eyes cast down as you mumble out another tiny “yes, sir” and something close to sniffle sounding as you shakily stand from the bench.

Enji watches as you stumble away- steps fumbling and clumsy, your gait drifting as you try to get back into the building without collapsing. You disappear from sight and Enji adjusts his straining cock in his shorts, glances down at the jacket you had shed and forgotten on the ground. It’s soft in his hand when he picks it up and it smells nice- soft and floral, just as delicate as its owner. He should scold you for being so careless with your possessions, teach you a lesson about personal responsibility.

Lips twitching, Enji heads to his office with your jacket thrown over his shoulder and the image of you panting and trembling and submitting to his punishment seared into his mind.

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black-noir-ink

4 years ago

Honestly? Grinding with clothes on is one of my biggest turn-ons. The desperation, feeling wanted, like god if only my clothes weren’t here. Feeling his bulge. Holy shit I cant.

Tags

my thoughts exactly

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black-noir-ink

4 years ago

you’re stuck living with your icon for a month have fun

Tags

how absolutely wonderful I certainly wouldn't mind that little adventure

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black-noir-ink

5 months ago

sleepyhead | gale dekarios x afab!reader

(18+!!!) afab!reader. second person pov. literally just smut: oral (f receiving), piv, dirty talk, consensual somnophilia. gale lives to please as always

my first gale fic... this man has taken over my entire life.

2k words

Gale’s lips press against yours in the dark, gentle and coaxing. A push and pull. You blink blearily awake from slumber as his hand finds your waist, fingers curling into the fabric of your sleep shift. His brown hair falls over the two of you like a curtain, shielding you from the terrors of the darkness.

“Mm hello,” you purr against his lips. “What time is it?” You ask when he pulls back. He looks a bit wild, pupils blown wide, his eyes practically look black even in the dim candlelight. He’s breathing heavily, his gaze traveling over you, heated, like the air surrounding fire. He doesn’t answer.

“Gale?” you repeat, warmth pooling in your belly at the pure desperation on his face. At the want curling in his eyes like a flame.

“It’s late,” he murmurs, voice rough, as though he’s parched. “Though I cannot stop thinking about you. I must…” he trails off, mind moving faster than his mouth can.

One thing you love about Gale is his ability to talk for seemingly hours on end with such eloquence and poetry. But when he’s like this…already hard against your thigh, slowly rutting his hips in circles, captured within pleasure, the words seem to leave him. You love it just as much, if not more.

He leans in and runs his nose along your throat, breath ghosting over your skin. His teeth graze you, and his tongue follows, licking a stripe up your throat. You moan shakily, cunt clenching around nothing.

“What’s gotten into you?” You ask, though it’s more breath than substance. Your brain is already beginning to short circuit, especially when the hand on your waist travels down to your thigh, fingertips pressing into the muscle there.

“You just looked so beautiful on the battlefield today… I tried to contain myself because we had so much to do, but… fuck,” he breathes this against your neck, desperate. He hardly ever uses such vulgar language. “I need you, love.”

“So you really weren’t lying when you told me you were turned on by my fighting,” you say, surprised.

“I am a lot of things, darling, but a liar is not one of them.”

The sound of his inhale as he leans down to kiss you again sends more molten pleasure swirling through you.

His hips press against yours, grinding against your clothed cunt in a steady rhythm. You moan into his mouth, your hands reaching up to clench at his sleep shirt stretched over his broad back.

You’re still sleepy as his hand drifts to the hem of your shift. He slowly pulls it up your thighs, up over your breasts, revealing your undergarments. He paws at your waistband like a cat begging for food. You lift your hips so he can pull them down over your ass. He undoes the ties to your bralette and slides it off your shoulders.

Gale kisses his way down your body, stopping to close his warm mouth over a nipple while his dexterous hand squeezes and tugs at the other. You moan lightly, pleasure easing through you. He hums appreciatively against your skin, and the vibrations travel pleasantly through you.

“Gale…” you half murmur half moan as he moves his mouth to your other nipple. “I can hardly stay awake…” You feel yourself slipping in and out of consciousness. The gentle chirping of the crickets outside your tent doesn’t help.

“Of course,” he says, leaning back. “We can stop.”

“No—no wait,” you stop him with a hand curled around his wrist. “You can keep going while I’m sleeping, I don’t mind.”

His eyes darken, his tongue dipping out to wet his lips. “Really? Are you quite sure?”

You nod with a sleepy smile and settle back comfortably. “Mhm.”

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he says, pressing another kiss to your lips.

Your eyes flutter shut, your breathing slowing as you succumb to your exhaustion. Your limbs feel heavy, even as Gale continues his way down your body.

“You’re so gorgeous, so perfect,” he whispers into your skin. His fingers curl into your thighs before he slowly pulls them apart, baring yourself to him.

He runs his hands appreciatively up and down your thighs, squeezing and kneading before hooking them over his shoulders.

Gale presses a kiss to the inside of your right thigh before retreating. You feel his lips again a second later, just between your thigh and cunt, mere centimeters from where you’re wet and aching for him.

And then you feel his warm breath puffing against your core, and your body squirms impatiently. You peek an eye open to watch him.

He looks so handsome as he glances up at you, eyes soft, mouth twitched into a smirk. “I thought you were going to sleep.”

“I am,” you reply, closing your eyes again. “Just wanted to admire the view one last time.”

He chuckles lowly, “Sweet dreams, darling.”

He doesn’t move for a while, and you find yourself drifting off in the stillness. Your breathing slows, your mind growing quiet as sleep takes over you.

---

The moment your breaths even out as your hands fall slack against your sides, Gale presses his face between your thighs. He uses the flat of his tongue to lick a long, hot stripe through your folds. You taste delicious on his tongue, and gods you’re so wet. You’re soaking his beard, and he’s hardly been between your thighs for longer than ten seconds.

He doesn’t care. You keep releasing cute little moans in your sleep as he takes you apart brick by brick. Or rather… lick by lick.

His hands grip your waist, keeping you close. Your hips buck involuntarily to meet his mouth, grinding against his face. Even in your sleep you’re seeking out pleasure from him.

God forbid he won’t deliver.

He pulls back one of his hands to slide a finger into you. It goes easily. He adds another without any resistance. You’re so incredibly wet. He wants to remain between your thighs forever. Your sweet, slick arousal runs down his hand to his wrist, and he bends his head to lick it off.

His hips rut against the floor of his tent, the act of eating you out so arousing to him he has to seek his own pleasure to mitigate the pain. He doesn’t mind. He’d rather see you cum over and over again before he ever does.

He slowly thrusts his fingers into you while mouthing at your clit, delighting in your shaky breaths and wanton moans. You look gorgeous, brows screwed together, sweat beading on your temple. You’re going to wake up soon, and damnit he’ll make sure it’s while you’re cumming.

---

Warmth kindles between your thighs, pleasure and arousal pooling deep in your belly, tingling in your toes and rising through you.

Sleep drifts away from you, hanging onto the recesses of your mind, but ultimately not strong enough against the building pleasure you feel.

You chase the feeling, the promise of sweet release. Your surroundings slowly begin to materialize around you. The feeling of your bedroll clenched between your fingers, the undeniable feeling of a mouth between your legs, the sound of low, rumbling, appreciative moans that vibrate through you.

Even the sound of your own cries are registering in your mind.

The melting pleasure collapses into one pinpoint. A supernova explodes within you as your clit is sucked diligently while the two, long fingers buried inside you hook to press against your g-spot.

Your back bows, eyes flying open as you cum against Gale’s warm and inviting mouth with a cry of his name. He guides you through it with gentle laps of his tongue through your folds. He mumbles words of encouragement, but they’re lost against your skin.

“Fuck,” you breathe. “Gale.”

“Mm.” You can practically feel his pride radiating off of him from making you come.

He continues to lick you through it until you’re coming again, hands fisted in his hair as his lips suck once more on your clit, his fingers fucking into you. Your legs quiver atop his shoulders, your mind utterly fucked into emptiness.

When it’s all too much you push him away, breathing heavily, contented tears in your eyes.

“Holy shit,” you huff, trying to catch your breath. “Maybe you should wake me up like that more often.”

His eyes sparkle excitedly. “If that is what you wish, I’d be glad to.”

“You are such a giver. You really should let me take care of you sometimes.”

He shrugs. “I like giving. It brings me great pleasure to reside between your thighs for as long as you can stand.”

You sigh at his fanciful words, but you appreciate his adoration all the same. He crawls forward as you lean up to kiss him, the taste of yourself on his tongue rekindling the fire in your gut. His hand winds its way into your hair, the other squeezes your hip.

“I need you inside me,” you whisper against his lips. “Now.”

He groans, fingers flexing in your hair. Your body jolts with arousal at the sweet tug.

“Say no more,” Gale says. “Your wish is my command.”

He takes off his trousers then rolls you onto your stomach. His hands grip your hips, pulling your ass up and backwards, and his knee comes between your thighs to press them apart.

He guides the head of his cock through your slick folds and your hips squirm in anticipation.

He leans across your back, pressing a kiss to your shoulder blade. “I wish you could see yourself on the battlefield. The way you look with someone else’s blood on your armor… The flush on your cheeks… The way you breathe… You’re so capable, so strong. I cannot help but stare.”

He eases his cock inside you and the two of you moan in tandem at the delightful feeling. Him, at your warmth. You, at the undeniable feeling of being filled.

He bites lightly at your shoulder before whispering in your ear. “Sometimes I wish I could take you right there. In front of all of our friends and dead foes.”

You clench around him at his words, and he groans, hips snapping forward. You jolt against the bedroll, elbows digging into the feather down material.

“Gale,” you whimper.

He hums, “Yes. You’d be saying my name just. Like. That.” He delivers those three last words with hard thrusts, the sound of his skin slapping against yours echoing in the tent.

He builds up the pace, fucking into you steadily. Your cheek squishes against your pillow as he fills you, your mind still sleepy but undeniably consumed by lust and love.

“What do you think? Would you like that, love? Would you like to be fucked in front of all our companions?”

“Yes,” you breathe. “Yes, please, Gale. Need you—“

“Mm, that’s it,” he murmurs. His hand skates across your stomach as his warm fingers settle over your clit. “As much as I’d love to indulge the fantasy, I’m not sure I’d want them to watch.”

He begins to circle your clit with reverence, in time with his thrusts as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge.

“I want you all to myself,” he grits.

You cry out, melting against him, knees buckling as you reach your release. It rips through you, hard and fast. Unrelenting. A wildfire raging through your nerves.

Gale chases after his own climax, thrusts growing sloppy and deeper, moans and praises spilling from his lips before he finally cums inside you, hips twitching.

Your body trembles as the aftershocks roll through you.

You collapse onto the bedroll, breathing heavily, and Gale pulls you into him. You both lie on your sides, him softening inside you. He buries kisses into your neck, his arms wrapped around your waist.

“Are you all right?” he asks you, his thumb brushing comfortingly along your rib cage.

“So good,” you respond, brain blissfully empty, as if the tadpole never existed. You already feel sleep crawling across your mind again, pulling you under. You yawn and grin happily, like a cat that’s gotten its warm milk.

“Going back to bed already?” he teases, leaning up to press a kiss to your cheek. “I wear you out that much?”

“Mhmm…”

“All right. Go to sleep darling. I’ll clean you up.”

You’re already halfway asleep when you feel his tongue dip into you once more, licking his cum out from inside you—

Oh well. You can catch up on sleep tomorrow.

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black-noir-ink

5 years ago

folie á deux

↠ summary: Ever since you were little, you had the dream to travel the world, but that was quickly stripped away when you were forced to marry a secluded writer by the name of Aizawa Shouta that lived in a dreary manor. The manor was somber in color scheme — a complete contrast to your lively home, but you knew the walls carried something far darker than their vantablack hue.

↠ word count: 16,724

↠ pairing: aizawa shouta x reader

↠ genre/warnings: angst, horror, gothic literature au, yandere themes, arranged/forced marriage, gore, blood, nudity, suggestive themes

↠ a/n: happy early spoopy season!! so this used to be a bts fic (rip) but i really loved this story so i didn’t want it to go to waste. this is a horror story so please read with caution and i hope you enjoy reading!!

↠ tagging: @lord-explosion-baku @my-bad-writing-requested-edition @out-of-my-way-extras

The world around you was a vibrant yellow and your cheeks were pink. You basked in the afterglow of laughter, the sun beaming down on your face. The wheat field around you was golden and the strands tickled your skin. Your white dress dragged across the dirt, staining it brown. Mud squished between your bare toes, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Everything was serene as you stood in the middle of ginger field that stretched out for miles. A breathless smile spread on your lips, mouth parted, greedily taking in air. Maybe you shouldn’t have run as far and quick as you did, but you felt free. The white mansion with crimson rooftops was a mere speck in the distance. You close one eye and bring your pointer finger and thumb up, squishing the house between them. Repeating this several times, it brought a smile to your face.

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