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Imagine:

Practicing underwater bondage with Kukui

(Title name: Wet Temptations)

Request: "So for my next request, can you write a oneshot involving Kukui practicing underwater bondage with a male reader please? Kukui gets the idea to try orgasming while tied up, gagged, naked and underwater. So he enlists the reader to come with him to a pool at night so Kukui can be tied up, gaged and thrown into the water. Trusting the reader to watch over him. What do you think?" - Anon

Plot summary: Kukui, feeling a little experimental and wanting a change for a bit, asks you to help him with some sweet, underwater bondage~. Smutty.

This Contains: Nsfw (🔞) (MINORS DENIED), male orgasm, bondage, waterplay(?), and praise. May be a bit ooc.

Note: Hi guys! Been a bit, huh? Sorry! I've been lazy. To the requestor, sorry for taking forever! Idk how I did on this, but I hope you like it. This is my first time trying to portray aquaphilia and why it's attractive, so I hope you like it. Wasn't sure if this was to be interpreted as something platonic or romantic, so I tried leaving it vague. Have fun~

Kukui is an adventurous man when it comes to his sexual cravings, always willing to give something a chance and being very open-minded to trying anything at least once.

This idea came to him one day, maybe simply out of the blue, maybe simply he had always been curious about it, or maybe he more excited with himself whenever he dipped into the water and saw you walking around. Sometimes man.... It was hard not to look at you, especially if you weren't wearing a shirt... Ahem.

He convinces you to help him with this, spilling lax and sweet words into your ear that are just soooooooo hard to resist. He has charm and he knows how to use it, and besides.... You're really the only one he trusts enough to do this for him.

Kukui is so calm about this whole ordeal, even as he strips off his clothes and shows off every last inch of his assets. Even as he hands you the ropes.

You gulp. It's hard not to. But as you finishing tying him up, you're ready to begin...

...Moonlight kissed along his skin as well as the waters that he laid afloat in. You had finished tying the rope on his body, tight enough so that he would be utterly at your mercy, tight enough so that any squirming he could do wouldn't loosen the knots, and tight enough so that it hugged and highlighted his body divinely. The way his pecs and muscles bulged against the thick red rope made him truly a sight to see, and lucky for you, you got to have the view all by yourself. You tightly wrapped the gag around his mouth, admiring how his teeth sunk into the fibers when you tugged just a little harder on the rope. You swear you can hear some hitched, warm moaning.

You can tell he likes this despite being the first time either of you have done this. How could you tell, besides the flush on his face? Or the way his chest elevated unsteadily? His dick was hard, harder then before. It stands tall towards the stars, glistening with water droplets and a single, clear dew of precum down the slit. He murmurs something incoherent, though you can't really tell what. From the way he looks, though, it's anything but negative -- he wants to go further. "Shhh... Don't worry, kukui. I have you, ok? Just relax and let me do the work...". And he looks back up towards the skies, eyes glossed with something. Then, he sinks, and the water envelopes him everywhere. Your hands gently guide him, gliding along his muscles and tan lines, and you notice his cock seems to twitch at the sensations. Then, you let him go, and allow him to wriggle in the depths. All you provide in these times are occasional touches and shoves while he floats, ignoring your own hard-on at seeing him in such a vulnerable state. Kukui can hear his heart pounding from everything -- your touches and the cold water around him. He feels lightheaded, not helped by his need to hold his breath under water. This... Is really nice, he thinks, or think as much as he can while the air he needs is deprived from him.

You watch his blurred and rippling image begin to shake, and feel the water move with them. He's thrusting forwards, you notice, seemingly desperate for more friction. His face is almost tipsy looking, no doubt due to how long he's been under. Your hands run across his body, brushing against every bit of tan skin they can but refusing to venture anywhere near his crotch. If he wasn't underwater, perhaps you'd hear a whine. Kukui is dizzy with pleasure, the lack of air making him spin. Like a merciful god, you finally relent. Your finger presses against his tip, which throbs again the minute you touch him. Smiling, you press some more and ran your hand along his pec. Messaging both his dick and his ripe nipple, you can feel him shaking with your movement and see how his stomach rises and fall more irregularly.

He's so damn close, it'd seem. So cute.

Your strokes are slow and steady, designed so his climax is rewarded with time. All he can do is take it, biting down harder on the rope around his mouth. His eyes look pained and pleading, begging you to let him cum. You give neither, simply closing your eyes, adorning a warm smile, and continuing to stroke. Your hand forms a ring-shape with your first finger and thump, slowly stroking his tip and pulling back his foreskin.

He feels so close. So, sooo close. Just a bit more and...and...!

You pull him up from the depths, allowing him to catch his breath. He breaths in heavy gasps through his nose and gag, looking back up at your smirking face. You can hear him whimper from his confines, jumbled words coming out of his mouth. You tilt your head "hmm?... let you cum?... ah, Kukui... c'mon dude, I know you can take it. Just a bit longer, 'kay?" You ask him. Kukui could be mistaken for being intoxicated right now, with how drunkenly in lust he is and how his mind is still foggy. He hesitates before nodding his head slowly, eyes stricken with a lovesick glow. "Great! Back ya' go." And so, you dunked him in again, pumping his tip with a slow and sensual rhythm. He wanted this, agreed to this. There would be no regrets..

But he regrets wanting to continue. He wants to cum! He needs to, it too much! But he can't do anything except to endure the your jerking and the water around him. Every time he gets close, you cruelly deny him, then repeat and repeat again and again. He can't take it anymore, please Y/N....gosh, he looks so cute dazed like this. Whether it's from his lack of oxygen or because he needs release, you're unsure, and frankly you don't care. Watching him like this is making your dick ache like crazy.

Stroke...stroke....rub...stroke. Slow and sensual touches, enough to make his mind go numb but not enough to give him that sweet, sweet release. You keep going, and going....and soon you're stroking fast. Your fingers are gliding over his head, feeling it shake and throb against your palm. Kukui's mind is drowning in mindless pleasure. If it weren't for the water, there'd be tears clinging to the corner of his eyes.

He bite even harder on the rope. His toes curled inward. His cock throbbed, and throbbed, and throbbed. And then, ropes of thick white cum erupted from his balls. Load after load in perfect succession. You're thankful there wouldn't be a mess everywhere.... though, the pool would need some cleaning later.

You pulled Kukui out from the waters, allowing him to catch his breath. His hazy eyes fluttered open and closed. You peer down at him with a calm, yet oddly wanting look. As he catches his breath, finally regaining some of his mind again. You speak gently to him.

"Hey, Kukui...." you speak, watching as he weakly turns his drunken gaze towards you. Your cock comes to press against his body, and although his senses are everywhere he can feel your length against him, confirmed by how his eyes seem to widen. "...I got an idea for what we can do next."

FRANCIS MOSSES 交易 ── `` DARK CONTENT﹕monsterfucking. top amab reader. doppelgänger francis. handjob. no protection + preparation. overstimulation. ✶ IN WHICH you unknowingly let the wrong francis inside.

the prospect of you being fired—or worse, being put in a cell—was incredibly likely. enthusiasm of the milkman’s arrival being your final entry request for the day lead to your upcoming demise.

it shouldn’t be on you, both the blame and responsibility. the given identity document had indistinguishable information, merely an artist’s mistake as you finally realize that his eyebrows were just a tad thicker. his eyes were a bit too lively for the real francis.

realization dawned on you a second too late as you feel cold, but strangely simultaneously familiar and unfamiliar hands grab you from behind. before you could reach the rotary phone to contact the D.D.D., he grabbed your wrist and spun your chair around to face him.

francis, or so you thought, had a gentle smile plastered on his face but you knew better to tell that his intentions were far from truly kind. “don’t tell me you were actually going to let them kill me,” your jaw tightened, gaze hardening into a glare. he chuckled, hands landing on the armrests, so dangerously close to yours that were balled in fists to prevent yourself from punching his face.

when you didn’t respond, he continued. leaning in as he shook his head with a scoff, “aw, c’mon. . .we both know that you’re too much of a good sweetheart, yeah? please don’t try that again.” his saccharine voice was improbable, a subtle take of a threat behind his tone.

“you’re gullible enough to think i’d do that for you.” the tension between you was palpable, a thin thread that threatened to break at the tip of his finger. his lips pouted, sadness in his untrue eyes. “me? but you’re the one who let me in here,” he laughed, tone rather arrogant, “and i should thank you for that.”

if he were the real francis, you probably would have been making out with him by now. this doppelgänger was awfully confident, you wish you could break him. see tears fall down to his round cheeks, lips trembling as pleas tumbled out of his pretty lips.

these thoughts were idiotic. but fuck, he was near enough to the milkman, the clueless neighbor who could care less about it all. “want me to spare you? or—” you cut him off, lips connecting with his. francis was surprised, but welcomed it nonetheless. his hand came up to your neck, sliding towards your hair. groaning as he gently, almost experimentally, tugged at it. tongue met tongue, a clash of saliva and mess. you bit onto his bottom lip, eliciting a soft moan.

“mmph, and here i thought you hated me.” he grinned, panting, “what gave you that idea?” you place a kiss on his chin, “because you tried to get rid of me, and the fact that. . .i’m not him.” grabbing his hips, he let out a yelp. he scrambled to hold onto your shoulders for dear life, gasping when he felt your teeth graze against his neck. “seems like i’ve struck a nerve, hu—haah, fuck!”

a lewd moan had escaped him, your teeth sinking into his flesh. it was far from gentle, biting him like you wanted to see him bleed. he was simply a doppelgänger that you stupidly let in, after all.

the pink muscle settled in your mouth lapped at the bite, cueing francis to whimper at the sensation. he moved closer on your lap, grinding against your crotch. the action could’ve been mistaken for something relating to a dog; for he seemed like a bitch in heat. quite uncharacteristic for his kind. “you’re pathetic, mosses.”

francis, beyond belief, was affected by the use of the stolen surname more than you anticipated. his hips trembled, “that’s, haah, not my fault. you made me like this. fucking a– ah! doppelgänger, really? they’d surely co– come for you next.” his cock twitched, spilling pre-cum that formed a wet patch on his boxers. you were a lowly human, another one to get rid of, so why does he feel this way?

silence was met with his words. not until you pull down his pants, taking off what was left until his lower half was bare to you. “oh yeah? you’re letting me fuck you,” your fingers wrapped around the base of his dick, giving a single stroke, “you’re not even trying to fight back against me, honey.”

he whined, beginning to selfishly rut into your palm. “what were you going to say?” francis doesn’t respond and you twist your wrist, a cry slipping from him. you asked on a whim, wishing to hear what he planned besides allowing you to carry on with your life. “i-i don’t know!” your thumb presses down on his slit, causing him to wrack his brain to remember. “ah, ah, i meant to ask if you wa- want me to kill you right he— hmmng!” his voice wobbled as if he was fearful, tears in his eyes and he’s suddenly ethereal.

“do you still want to do that? to end my life?”

“no, no, please, i didn’t mean it.”

you tease the vein that ran on his shaft, never failing to witness the face he makes when he’s within the depths of pleasure; of that high he never dared to reach. oh, if only if it was francis mosses. the real one, the one you’re so curious about, the one who your eyes like to linger on a bit too long for comfort. your pace picks up, palm slick with his pre-cum and the room’s sinful with his sobs and arousal.

francis moans under his breath, “i’m cumming-!” he warns a second too late, hips bucking as the familiar fluid splatters across your fingers. the doppelgänger was your very own legendary mona lisa with how his face is painted with all shades of red.

when you swipe your thumb over his tip, he swore he had a glimpse of the deity he didn’t have the conscience to worship.

beliefs were foolish; it was his opinion. with that, he thought you were the one insane. doppelgängers aren’t flawed with such imperfections like humans are. he didn’t need to be prepared for situations similar to this, and you used his inhumanity for your pleasure.

“ughm, agh!” you had wordlessly given your cock a few pumps, no more than that before slipping inside of his tight hole. the tiniest beginning of guilt threatened to engulf you with shame, but why should you allow it? his mere purpose and intention was to murder.

his hole spasmed around you, freely welcoming the intrusion. maybe they were quite useful after all. he whined, his insides tingling with the stretch. the doppelgänger has never felt so full, or genuinely anything, for that matter. “please—fuck, move already, damnit.” he, himself, was breathless.

how could you deny him?

your hands grasped his hips tightly, like you wanted to indent a marking into his flesh. cold emanated from your palms, contrasting to the heat licking at his cheeks. he’s lighter than you’d expect, hole gripping you as if he was a fleshlight. lifting him up, your tip was held onto. heavenly; as the way he wrapped around you was undeniably heavenly.

sensing his apparent impatience, you let him crash down on you. a broken gasp-of-a-moan occupied the air, globs of pre-cum building on his slit. “yeah, fuck me like that,” he breathed, instructions hazily clear to your sex-deprived brain. his ass slapped, slapped, slapped against you. shit, the D.D.D. surely ought to give you a punishment worse than death for this.

he clung onto you, both with his arms and entrance. you don’t think you could really get enough—as vague as this memory could get. your tip brushes against his prostate with each harsh thrust, slick sounds adding onto the cotton pressed into his little head, forming static and nothing else to focus on besides your cock pounding into him. “you’re liking this- ahngm! right? like how good i feel? haa, needed your dick in me s’ bad. . .”

he pushed his hips forward, grinding on your cock as he purposely clenched. “thaaaat’s it, sweetheart. think ‘m gonna keep you.”

yeah, let’s hope your neighbors forgive you for indulging in him.

masterlist﹒divider﹒artist kaworinx

BOYYYYY THE MILKMAN SMUT WAS SO GOOD. care for another one? i NEED to fuck the real francis mosses now…i’m imagining the doppelgänger being jealous asf of him too ouuujhhhh

FRANCIS MOSSES 交易 ── `` DARK CONTENT﹕nonconsensual voyeurism. top amab reader. doppelgänger francis is watching, real one doesn’t know it. dry humping. clothed sex. different timeline from prev fic. ✶ IN WHICH francis wants to be more than just a neighbor.

for who to blame, you don’t permit yourself to think. francis, the lovely neighbor, is propped on your lap. poor man was flustered, sweat gathering on his skin like a coat. gullible; and so unaware. entirely dumb of the fact that his doppelgänger was gazing upon the scene through the crack of your bedroom door. you could almost imagine the creature’s expression, twisted in envy.

your palms cupping his hips, which are erratically pressing themselves against you. chasing after the friction he craved during the in-between’s of his working hours, pent up frustrations translating into insatiable sexual desire.

“gosh, ‘m sorry... hnngh, needed to feel you against me.” his teeth grit with a whine, tucking his head to your shoulder. effectively obscuring his ever burning pit of shame which laid heavily in his gut.

supposedly, you were to help him of deliveries as a noble—not only a doorman but as well a—citizen. however, you were not put in a situation to complain whilst he clutched onto you as he switched to tantalizing grinds. “couldn’t wait anymore, hm?”

words a tease, he could feel himself losing track of the rhythm. sloppy and unexperienced; though not enough to be labeled as someone so pure from filth. “please,” the doppelgänger’s eyebrows wrinkled with disgust at the actual francis’ plea.

“please, i, mm,” and the milkman is at a loss for words.

the creature, despite his apparent hatred, palmed his cock within the confines of his pants. fuck, his tip was leaking with pre-cum that without a doubt painted his length in a creamy tone.

he was ablaze with jealousy while you got your dick wet with the one whose identity he attempted to steal. “say it.” the commanding quality of your voice left no room for objections that even he felt the obligation to speak his thoughts.

“can- can i take off your pants? i want you inside me..” what a darling francis mosses was.

a humming released from your sealed lips; he waits. “not completely,” he’s confused until you pull the zipper, freeing your cock from the side and his shyness returns. “better?”

francis nods, cheeks warmed at the scenery. the doppelgänger despised that. “i’m ready, did it myself this morning.” he sheepishly mumbles, releasing himself of his lower garments. “did you plan this?”

it’s taken as an accusation. “no!” could’ve been an exclaim if he wasn’t so breathless in effort of aligning his hole to your tip, “but i’ve... imagined it, you know. keep myself awake to— oh fuck.”

an inch, then a second, and now you’re void of a clue. rewarding yourself with the relief of triumph of the theory that he would feel a lot better than the copy; he is.

if you were to say that aloud, you’re sure the targeted one would be angry enough to keep you from finding your release.

francis’ thighs lay atop of yours, warming your cock with his sensitive walls. he tries to lift himself up, only to realize he was incapable. energy spent due to the earlier attempts. you are met with a whimper, a look in his eye, and the trembling of his lips.

the other tenants are certain to file a complaint.

masterlist﹒divider﹒artist kaworinx