#''It doesn't taste like lilac..' ' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

girlsworldillusion · 21 days

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Summary: Amid the severe consequences of war, Aemond finds himself alone, without the presence and support of his young and sweet wife, who insists on staying away from him, afraid of who he has become. He has been a respectful and patient husband. But tonight he feels like he has finally reached his limit.

Author's note: Please, pay attention to the tags. This story contains sensitive topics, such as: +18, SEX, SEVERE INTERNAL CONFLICT, DUB-CON/NON-CON, POSSESSIVE/OBSESSIVE BEHAVIOR, EMOTIONAL DEPENDENCY, TOXIC RELATIONSHIP AND MORE.

word count: 6k

There is no specific description of which house the reader belongs to, so feel free to fill this in as you wish.

English is not my native language, forgive me for any spelling mistakes.

Good reading!

He can taste vomit in his esophagus.

Aemond knows it wouldn't be too difficult to get out what little he ate. He coughs as discreetly as he can into the back of his hand before taking off his eye patch, wanting to splash some cold water on his face and throat. He pretends not to notice how his hands are a little shaky as he pulls the gloves off of them, cupping his fingers inside the basin left by the servants on the table. The cool water feels refreshing on his hot skin, and with a satisfied hiss, he looks up, staring directly at the reflection of his own face in the mirror.

The flickering flames of the fire near the wall provide no comprehensive illumination, and he is honestly relieved by that. What little he can see is disturbing enough. His single lilac eye is bloodshot, his silver hair is disheveled, so different from normal. Paleness in the face, sunken cheeks. The subtle glow of the blue stone in his other eye and the deep scars around it only add a dying touch to his ghostly visage.

Another deep tug wracks his stomach and he leans forward, gripping the sides of the table with abandon, preparing to actually throw up this time. But nothing comes, nothing but the painful, nauseating feeling in his body.

He can't forget.

It's all his doing, after all. It's all his fault.

The death of all those people, the desolation of the entire Riverlands. It's all his fault.

Any feeling of greatness and power that previously inhabited his body no longer existed. His superiority and confidence swept away by the tide until he was spat out on the shore with nothing but pain and trauma.

He is a hypocrite and he knows it.

Aemond is not a good person. He doesn't want to fool anyone with his anxiety attack, he definitely doesn't need to take on the role of the poor regretful guy. He doesn't regret what he did, he doesn't regret doing what was absolutely necessary for the good of his family. He could never regret this. And he knows that tomorrow, a week from now, or a month from now, he will do exactly the same thing again if necessary. There are no limits to what he is willing to do to and for those to whom he is loyal.

He can't even dare deny liking it all.

When he's on Vhagar's saddle, with the world in flames just beneath them and the addictive power to decide for good or ill for those poor, hopeless souls, he can swear he's never felt anything better. There's something disturbingly liberating about embracing the monster that resides in his chest. It's surprising to him how good it feels to be ruthless, to take on the role of the uncontrollable beast everyone says he is (rightfully so).

It wasn't always like this. But a series of violent and tragic actions that may or may not have been intentional earned Aemond more than just an ominous codename. They gave him respect; fear. Aemond One-Eye, the son without expectations, the child without any prominence. No more.

He feels ruthless when he is in the skies, dictating the fate of humanity. It gives him power. He is powerful now, he is no longer the boy forgotten by everyone. The feeling of being superior pumps hard through his veins until he goes wild, makes him feel like he's crushing people under the soles of his boots. He is more powerful. Their lives depend solely on the way his hand moves and it turns out that, to their misfortune and terror, his hands are wrapped around the saddle of the largest dragon in the world. It is difficult to be sensible and godly when there is so much power at his command. He is more powerful. There is nothing that can stop him. He feels invincible, unstoppable. He doesn't just enjoy it - he worships this feeling.

At least until it's all over.

When the dust settles and all that is left is the consequence of his actions, it is then that he quietly withers away.

He killed them. All of them. His hands are stained with blood and ash and it's all his fault. He has separated families forever, traumatized so many souls with insurmountable depression and pain and it is all his fault. Adults, elderly, children, babies. All dead. Because of him. Hoarse screams of terror and fear, all begging for a mercy that would never come - could never come. Not by his hands. Not when he had a family and a purpose he was so loyal to.

Aemond worships the sense of power that comes with a reputation for being ruthless and regrets nothing he has done and will do for his duty. Unfortunately, this does not mean that he does not suffer the consequences in equal proportion.

Another sigh. He drops his head and presses his fingers against the edge of the table. He closes his eye so tightly that patches of white light explode into his vision, each labored breath makes him lean forward and clench his teeth. The pain is impossible to ignore – it shakes his insides, leaves his limbs trembling.

"Is this hurting you?" a soft voice asks, a small, fragile thing, almost impossible to hear - if it weren't for the fact that he lives to hear the sound of that voice. He knows this, and so does the owner of the voice, both fully aware of this dangerous dependence. “Pretending to be a God, I mean.”

Aemond feels his heart beat faster, the angelic sound of your voice rescuing him from the merciless depths of his own mind, making him slowly raise his head as he stares at the place where the voice came from. He almost can't believe what he heard. But there you are, sitting on your bed, surrounded by comfortable sheets and pillows, your wide doe eyes catching the moonlight and fire flames in the dark of night, shining like stars.

His sweet wife.

He simply looks at you, not offering any kind of response right away. Not because he doesn't want to. But because he's too surprised to hear your voice and see your face to form words at the moment. Aemond doesn't know how he ended up here, in your private chambers - the place he hasn't been welcome in for some time. He was supposed to go to his chambers. Was he that distraught and distracted? Could the confusion clouding his senses have unconsciously led him directly to the person he needs most at the moment?

He looks around quickly just to confirm that, yes, there is no doubt that he is in your chambers. He didn't intend to do that. He shouldn't be here, invading your privacy and ignoring your request that he keep distance. Of course, his longing and need for you made him consider such a thing countless times. Regardless of your wishes, he was your husband; he had a right to be here. But he never did that. You don't want him in your bed anymore and you've made that clear. And Aemond was not ignorant or even insensitive enough to pretend not to understand your reasons. You had a lot of them and he knows.

You were not made for cruelty. Your innocence and purity made you unable to be aware of the horrible things he did and still treat him the same way as before. You were afraid of him now, just like everyone else. The blood of many was on his hands and you knew it, just as you knew he regretted nothing, and that he would not stop this - not until victory was achieved.

You didn't agree with that, you never did, not even before the marriage. But what could a young woman do in the world they lived in? You were just a piece on a board game, an ace up his sleeve used by your father specifically to provide armies and loyalty to the crown in exchange for a marriage and a more than convenient name for your family.

Aemond knew from the beginning that you didn't want to marry him; how could you after all? You barely knew him beyond the questionable reputation that surrounded him, and a dangerous family clash was about to break out in the kingdom - this was definitely not the right environment for romance to blossom. But you did your duty. You had been an exemplary wife in the short two months of peace that followed your marriage. You treated him with respect and patience, slowly opening your heart to him with each passing day. He wasn't the most talkative or the most sensitive husband and yet you showed empathy for his limitations, accepting what he gave you with gentle smiles and rosy cheeks, without demanding anything more. So sweet. So inocent.

It was no surprise the feeling that welled up in his chest.

Aemond was obsessed before he even realized it. Needing your gentle attentions like a flower needs the sun. He clung to you as his only comfort in an almost bleak existence, he became more and more obsessed with you and you didn't notice. You read with him, walked through the gardens with him and talked to him as you always did, kind and polite. And every day he felt hungrier, pushing the limits of restraint. You welcomed him into your bed every night, welcoming him between your legs as if he belonged there - and he did, indeed. Aemond's appetite for you and you alone knew no bounds.

But he wasn't the man you married anymore, was he?

You fear him now, any and all advances he's made with you over the past few months have vanished into thin air like the ashes he's so used to seeing now. The feelings he was carefully cultivating in your chest now seem to have sunk so deep into your being that he thinks they no longer even exist. You no longer craved his attention; the touch of softness and affection, whenever “husband” dripped from your mouth, was absent. And now all he could do was want.

Aemond doesn't look away from you, not wanting to miss this moment for anything, not after being deprived of it for so long. And you look back at him from where you sit on the bed, chin lifted in false courage. You looks at him with your bright eyes and high cheekbones, which seem even more highlighted in the warm lighting around your bodies.

He may have entered your chambers out of pure unconscious instinct, out of nothing but silent desperation. His body guiding him when his mind no longer could. But now that he's here, he doesn't know how he didn't realize it from the beginning. It's impossible to think about anything other than you. You, you, you.

At this point, deaths at his hands no longer existed. Not his pains or the weights he carries, not revenge, not duty. Anything. Absolutely nothing. There is only this moment, between him, a boy who so wanted to be enough for those he loves and the young girl who is illuminated by the light of the flames.

He feels it. It's not new. That strange impulse that draws all the attention of the environment around him to you and you alone; an almost painful need between his teeth to take a bite and not let go, to have it with all your heart and nothing less.

"Nothing to say?" You press and he's not even embarrassed by the fact that he doesn't remember what you said before. He should leave. It's all he thinks, even as he takes an uncertain step closer to your bed. And that's enough for you to immediately tense up, wrapping your small hands in the sheets to subtly pull them towards you. You are hiding yourself. Hiding yourself from him.

Aemond should leave, continue respecting your limits.

If this had been another night, maybe he would have done it. If the smell of smoke and dragon scales hadn't been trapped in the leather of his war clothes, as well as the dust of ash, then perhaps he could have left. If he couldn't smell the insistent scent of charred bodies and decimated land in his nostrils, taking permanent root in his lungs, perhaps he could respect your innocence.

Not even Aemond knew how on edge he already was. Your refusal of his proximity was just the final push to his downfall.

He adores you. He worships the ground you walk on. He respected your decisions and stayed away much longer than any other husband would have done. And this is how you repay him?

Aemond narrows the only functional eye he has left. You don't react, nothing more than another protective grip on the sheets and a slow swallow of saliva. He wants you so much and the thought enrages him. Why? Why does he feel this way? He desperately wants to punish you for making him feel this way. He wants to punish himself for even thinking about doing this to you.

You left him like this; nothing but a mess. When would you finally accept him for who he is? When would you understand that some cruelties were necessary for the final goal to be achieved? When would you see that everything he did and would do was solely for his family? For you. To keep you safe. When would he be enough?

He grits his teeth and feels his entire body tense with thoughts. He hates it; he hates the way you confuse him and make him feel all these terrible emotions. It makes he feels weak. The temptation of the slightest chance of your affection suffocates his common sense. He feels his hands shaking. He'd been so blinded by the hopeful, innocent vision he constantly saw you through that he fooled himself into thinking he was on your mind as much as you were on his all this time.

"Aemond?" You whisper, sounding more uncertain than before, disturbed by his extended silence as he slowly approaches the bed. He keeps looking at you the whole time, letting you glimpse the flames of fire reflected in the icy sapphire in his eye. He adores you, with every fiber of his being. But the flash of fear that shines in your eyes in response makes him stretch the corner of his lip in a malicious smile. He couldn't help it, there's something sweet and pure about you that makes him constantly waver between wanting to protect you and wanting to destroy you.

You try not to weaken before him, but Aemond immediately notices the way your body is a little trembling when his hand, that same hand that drags the musk of leather and death, passes through the fabric of the sheets, spreading lightning over your legs. You don't stop him, but your eyes flash with a frightened warning, a warning he ignores tonight. His palm flattens against your ribs, daring to caress, to feel the linen of the sheets beneath his fingers, the softness of your flesh beneath it, and you squeak an off-key sound, pulling the cocoon of blankets and furs up to hide you.

A small annoyed growl leaves his lips and his other hand quickly covers yours, stopping you from continuing.

"No. Enough of that." He says in a low but firm tone, looking sternly into your eyes. You part your lips, surprised by his behavior, and try to pull the hand still trapped by his, but he doesn't let you go. "That's enough, wife."

He thinks you might try to deny it, but you fall silent, slowly relaxing against his grip on your hand. Aemond wants to purr at this, wants to praise you and spoil you, because you are so good, so good. His good girl. Even when you're crushing his heart between your delicate hands.

It's not your fault, he tells himself. It's not your fault that he's obsessed with you, driven crazy by the idea of you. Aemond can't even focus properly, even when you're in front of him, defenseless and at the mercy of his whims. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest from pure ecstasy and excitement at the same time. And he can feel, on top of it all, the blood flowing to his hard cock, making it swell beneath his black riding pants. He feels embarrassed by his actions, but at the same time excited, just by the little things you do, by everything you are to him.

“Something is wrong with me...” He says, more to himself than to you, gently pushing a strand of your soft hair behind your ear, sliding his thumb in a gentle caress across your delicate earlobe. “You're in my house. You're in my house and I don't want you to leave. Never." He approaches your face, sliding his fingers from your ear to the side of your face, until he holds your small chin between his thumb and forefinger. "I need you." He continues, ignoring how honest and frank he looks - weak. “I keep thinking of ways to make this happen,” the more he talks, the faster you breathe, sweet little sighs near his lips, calling to him like a siren’s song… “I want to ruin you. Because I think that's the only way you won't leave me."

The intensity of his words scares you, he realizes, he sees how your eyes fill with tears and your eyebrows twitch. But even in the dim lighting of the flames, he can see how the tops of your cheeks turn red, how your chest trembles with the breath that catches there...you want him.

It's a shame you're so willing to keep him away.

But he can't stop.

Aemond closes the distance in an instant, pushing you down until he traps your body beneath his, feeling the contours of your soft, supple curves against him; he shudders. He caresses your face one last time before moving down, ignoring your hesitation and your useless efforts to push him away. Quick as a viper, he grabs the hand that moves to push against his chest, wrapping it with the other still attached to his, holding your wrists tightly above your head.

You cry out at the pressure on his wrists, the long lashes over your eyes fluttering, pleading. "A-Aemond, what are you doing?" you stutter. "Please, please... I said I needed it - please give me some more-"

"Time? Oh yes, you said it." He hums thoughtfully, placing a thigh between your legs, dipping his face into the crook of your neck to breathe in the fresh fragrance of your shower, snoring contentedly with your naturally sweet scent. Intoxicated by your scent, he trails his lips along the slender column of your neck before stopping at the shell of your ear. “I’m so sorry, dear, I’ve waited too long. We’ve both waited too long.” He intones, intoxicated by your presence. You sob once but don't say anything else, choosing to turn your face away from him. Aemond snorts a laugh at that, but doesn't stop you, preferring to leave a tender, wet kiss on your cheek.

Squeezing your wrists with one hand, he allows the other to slide slowly down your body, almost reverentially. He paused at the delicate laces holding the front of your nightdress before untying them with deft fingers. The front opens, exposing your silky, flushed skin to his hungry gaze. He doesn't have the patience to remove the fabric completely from your body, so he just lowers it enough so that your breasts are exposed. He bites his lip, holding a curse between his clenched teeth. When he presses his bare palm to your perky breasts, he tastes your trembling innocence, your soft flesh.

So beautiful.

So pure.

From the beginning you were his opposite, your delicate hands, as irritatingly clean as his are stained with blood and ash.

As much as he truly suffers from the consequences of his actions, he never regrets them, because he knows they are right - necessary. There was only the future to shape, the past should stay where it belongs; behind him. Something he had learned through much pain, but unfortunately, his sweet wife had not yet. But as he runs his greedy fingers down your body, feeling the goosebumps on your soft skin with each touch, Aemond knows he scares you as much as he excites you. You can't hide it from him. Your obviously involuntary response to him only makes him fiercer, hungrier. He wants to ruin you from the inside, until you can't bear to live a single day without his touch.

He allows you to continue your theatrics, still stubbornly staring at the wall while pretending his actions don't affect you. There's something almost too tempting about it, in fact; It's a matter of honor for him. He will break your masks and he will take pleasure in doing so.

Letting his fingers slide down your sides, Aemond's lips wander. He kisses the hole in your throat, moving down with wet, licked breaths to your breasts, tasting you. You gasp softly and grip tight fists on the bed sheets when he captures a soft nipple with a slow suck of lips and a teasing scrape of teeth, your body curling beneath him tightly. He smiles with your nipple still between his lips, leaving wide, warm trails of his tongue on the little perky bud. His hips slide against the inside of your parted thighs, pushing the hardened bulge in his pants against your pussy once.

You bite your lip and close your eyes, but he doesn't stop. With another thrust he uses his strength to push you back onto the bed, the bed you shared many nights with him, to fuck you into the warm sheets. It's almost too much for him to finally feel your little pussy once again, even through the leather of his pants and your delicate nightwear. But he continues with slow, strong thrusts, rubbing his cock against you in a way that teases your clit, the smell and heat of his effort wafting throughout his body; sweat, dragon, fire, ash, blood, death - all mixed together, merging with your own sweet, intoxicating scent and, of course, the unmistakable scent of sex.

Before the chaos broke out, Aemond was quite skilled at this, at driving you crazy. A part of him is extraordinarily pleased to find that he still remembers correctly, especially when a press of his fingers and a twirl of his thumb on your slobbery nipple makes you gasp. He wants to see you, to see you blush and sweat, looking ruined for him. Gods, oh yes, Aemond wants this so much. He can't stop, he can never stop, especially with you singing so sweetly to him. When you arch into his touch and whisper his name softly, like a secret no one can discover, his breath hitching. Aemond can't stop.

A specific thrust makes you let out a high-pitched meow, your hands pulling at the linen on the sheets and he moans along, releasing your breast with a wet pop to look at your face. You have your lips parted, your long eyelashes touching the top of your cheeks, your eyebrows furrowed in sweet agony. He thrusts a little faster, rubbing your clit with more pressure, taking in your presence and the feeling of your tiny, supple body, preening at every sound that leaves your lips.

Sounds so sweet, so beautiful; he considers himself a sinner with the way something so innocent and angelic makes his blood boil and his cock throb with need inside his pants, surely soaking the fabric with the way he feels himself leaking.

“Fuck, you’re going to kill me, baby...”

And yet, he doesn't think he cares about dying by your hands when things turn out like this. He is admitting defeat without any embarrassment now; he can bear the dull weight of war, he can bear his own mind trying to destroy him at every turn, he can bear the betrayal of his own family and the demands of his duties. He can bear with anything.

Anything except being without you.

With an impatient grunt, his fingers tug at the soft skirt of your nightdress, bunching the thing at your waist as he rips your underwear down your legs. You don't try to stop him, but you don't try to help him either, remaining almost motionless against the bed, and he feels like he can growling at you like an animal for that - stubborn girl. He hates and loves this about you in equal intensity. He's almost rough and punishing as he hooks the back of your knee into the inside of his elbow, pushing your leg up to your breasts. And then you're giving up your fight, sighing - all anxious expression, furrowing your eyebrows and biting your lip as he hurriedly unzips his pants and pulls them down just enough to pull his cock out, slamming the wet, throbbing head over your clit before sliding his entire length along your folds.

You moan, he moans. The slide is wet and he can't tell if it's all you, if it's all him, if it's all both. He doesn't care, honestly. All that matters is how his cock is thrusting into your heat, hitting your clit with luscious pokes, coaxing more of those sweet sounds from your pretty lips.

He hooks your other leg in the crook of his elbow and does exactly what he did with the other, trapping you between him and the bed in a position where your entire pussy is presented to him. With his hands flat beside your head, he brings his face closer to yours, the leather covering his chest pushing your knees further into your breasts. You moan through your teeth, unable to do anything but tighten your hands around his shoulders. He smiles slowly, drunk on the sensations, still gently sliding the length of his cock into your folds.

Aemond doesn't look away from you, enchanted by the way you dance between looking at the sapphire stone and the deep lilac of his functional eye. You've always done this, he thinks - saying one was as beautiful as the other, impossible to choose.

“I’m giving myself to you, love…I’m yours.” He whispers softly, husky, needy to you. "Will you do the same from now on?"

He’s so close he feel how your heart races violently at his words, slamming against your ribcage as you take a deep breath. Every expression on your flushed face makes him sure you're going to have an intense crying fit, but even when the liquid in your eyes pours down the side of your eyes, you keep yourself almost in one piece. You look deeply into his eye as your shoulders shake. "Y-yes." You exhale, fragile. “Yes, yes, yes,” your voice sings repeatedly, with quick, confused nods, tears streaming from your eyes.

He can't hold back the husky sound that leaves his lips, his cock pulsing in reaction to your obvious fragility exposed to him.

"Yeah?" He asks breathlessly and it's very slow - as he thrusts inside you, thrusting his hips back and forth once, twice, three times until your pussy swallows as much of his cock as it can, until the tip of his hip bones rub it against your thighs. And it's so intense, so obscene – the position he puts you in, the full weight of his body pinning you to the bed, broad shoulders hiding you from view, silver hair like a curtain around the two of you, your mouth falling open in a silent scream and his releasing small curses between clenched teeth... debauchery.

You give his shoulders a few desperate slaps as he fills you, your tight ring of muscle stretched to accommodate his girth, and no matter how long it takes him to prepare you, no matter how wet you are, he knows there's always that initial pain that rips through your groin as he pushes into you. It makes you sway beneath him, little tearful sobs that are like the sweetest song to him.

Another curse muttered in deep Valyrian was his only warning as his palms sink into the softness of the bed. Your own hands looking desperate too, one tangled in the silver base of his hair at the back of his neck and the other gripping the material of his leather shirt, a strangled moan catching in your throat as he begins to fuck you slowly. You can only hold on as he pulls and pushes his body above you with each deep thrust, his impatience shown only in the forceful and violent way in which his hands grip the bed sheets.

He leans into you a little more, moving his hips in different ways, testing the angles until he makes more of those tears well up in your eyes as your pleasure increases almost painfully. Your moans quickly turn into babbling when a particularly strong movement of his hips makes you shake all over. The way your tight pussy tries to contain him and suck him in at the same time drives him crazy, feral.

He won't last long. He already knew this before it even started, but now, feeling your walls squeezing the life out of him after so long deprived of it, with your cute little noises getting louder and louder, with your expression drunk with lust and sadness, the buzz of battle still vibrating through his veins... Aemond feels release approaching shamefully fast for him.

He'll make it up to you later, Aemond promises himself. When the hot need subsides at least a little in his system, he'll take off his dirty war clothes, maybe ask you to take a shower with him. He'll soap your body and tease you until you're riding his cock in the tub at your own pace, his fingers rolling your little clit with each bounce of your hips. He will lay you on the bed and love every inch of your soft body, worship your skin with kisses and hickeys. He will part your thighs and bury his fingers and tongue in your wet softness. He will rip orgasm after orgasm out of you until you are hoarse from screaming, until your body is physically unable to continue.

He will do it all.

He has done it in the past, many times.

Now, however, all he needs is to find his release, to unload those months of forced distance inside his trembling body. But Aemond will be damned if he doesn't bring you along with him.

He leans down to press his forehead against yours, pushing your legs against your body further, lips parting with hoarse, breathless moans that escaped him with each thrust and the sweet pleas you murmured incoherently. The movement of his hips quickens, one hand leaving its blunt grip on the sheets to squeeze between your thighs, poking your clit in tight circles, his cock hitting a spot inside your walls that makes you shiver and tremble in anticipation.

“Aemond…” you cry, digging your nails into the back of his neck, pulling his body towards yours, as if you weren’t already physically as close as possible.

He growls at your plea.

“My little, innocent wife,” Aemond giggles wildly as your pussy clamps down on his length again, your climax approaching, his thumb rotating a steady rhythm on your clit. If only your mind was clear enough to form a coherent thought, maybe you'd complain that the rhythm of his cock in your pussy would be painful, that the continuous and harsh scratching of his clothes hurts the soft and delicate flesh of your body, but you don't say anything, not now. You just accept what he gives you. And he knows you missed him as much as he missed you. “Always so good to me baby.”

Aemond watches you intently, unable to look away from the pleasure that shows on your face. You're shaking, lost in your wet breaths and high-pitched, broken cries, your legs trapped between his body, welcoming him. You're tight and small, his sweet wife, and Aemond can feel your cracks stretching, a spider's web of fractured thought and temptation too much for anyone to bear, and as much as he knows it's impossible, he wants this moment to last forever. Aemond is undone. A fool in love. And it's sad. And it's beautiful. It's being at home.

"Mine." His murmur echoes next to your lips, both of you breathing each other's breath, his rhythm starting to falter, the searing heat rushing through his body beneath those layers of heavy clothing makes him dizzy, but he doesn't stop, he doesn't stop. “So pure, so beautiful, so delicate…” he caresses your clit without faltering with a rumbling purr as his cock swells inside you. “Ngh...oh fuck, so tight. You're going to get everything, aren't you, darling? All of me.” His own teeth graze your neck as you arch and scream in pleasure. “Be a good girl and don't let anything leak, hmmm…”

He fucks you roughly, your name dancing on his lips like a prayer in the dark. Aemond savors this moment with the veneration it deserves, the final chase. The two of you so broken, so vulnerable, shaking with pleasure for each other. He rubs your pussy, hips slamming into you at lightning speed.

And finally, gods yes, it finally happens.

"Aemond! A-Aemond, please! Please-" You throw your head back, your lewd pleas turning into a broken scream as you explode around him. Your face is flushed and glistening with a subtle sheen of sweat, tears streaming down. It's all he can take. You convulse and break and the sensation of his cock swelling with the resulting explosions of hot cum filling you follows shortly after. As your body and pussy tremble and clench, he finally releases his own pleasure, biting down hard on your shoulder to muffle his husky moans, spilling himself deep inside you, the continuous spasms of your orgasm milking every drop from him. You and he cum together, and even in the hazy haze of climax, he thinks he's never experienced something so sublime, so perfect.

You're both shaking as you come down from the waves of mutual pleasure, and Aemond is especially careful now, gently unfolding your legs from that tight position to allow you to stretch them, which earns him a long, grateful, relieved moan. He slowly pulls away until he's kneeling between your thighs, watching raptly as you bite your lip as his cock leaves your heat. A tight grip circles around your parted thighs, lifting them up a little to expose your dripping pussy. He looks almost in awe as he watches his seed flow steadily from your abused pussy.

But Aemond is selfish and his cum doesn't belong on the crumpled, sweaty sheets. No, he told you to keep it safe inside you and that's what would happen. His fingers slip into the wet mess of cum in your folds, pushing as gently as he can all the thick liquid inside you again.

You're too tired to react, but you still sob softly at the sensation, subtly squirming on the bed, legs shaking from being held in the same position for so long. He looks at you, icy lilac gaze half-lidded with lust, blue stone glowing in the flames of the fire. He looks at the soft, creamy flesh of your sweaty body. He longs to see dark spots and bite marks, a way of proving that you belong to him. He lifts his head, sinking his teeth into the soft flesh, just above your left breast. His teeth leave crescent moons on your skin and you scream loudly at the stinging sensation, but you don't stop him. He walks away, admiring the constellations he had traced on your skin. Painting you for him, marking you as something unique to him.

You sniffle and blink wet eyelashes at him. He kisses his bite, murmuring gentle words to you, his lips trailing up with soft sucks and wet kisses in your throat until he brushes against your lips. And it's then, and only then, that he realizes he hasn't kissed you yet. He doesn't know why he didn't do it, given that it's probably the thing he misses most about you. Feeling the softness of your lips on his, the gradual way a small, innocent kiss quickly evolves into something more urgent, the way you immediately struggle to keep up with his pace, his hunger as he swallows your cute sighs and your ragged breaths as he suck your tongue.

Yes. This is what Aemond longs for. How easily he could make you fall apart in his hands.

Taking into account the way that you blush and look down at his lips, you're thinking the same thing. He smiles mischievously, slowly leaning in for a deep kiss, fingers damp with your juices and his cum resting on your jawline. Your little hands sink into his hair until you lightly scrapes your nails across his scalp, making Aemond shudder. The fingers of his other hand cup your hip, tracing the line of the bone in gentle patterns. His nose bumps yours as his tongue dances in your hot mouth, spreading in you the taste of smoke and revenge that seems to follow him at absolutely every moment now. And like his perfect antithesis, you gasp, let him savor your sweet, fruity flavor - so fuckin sweet.

Your legs circle his waist, making him press against your heat, quickly reigniting the flame of need within him. You lick it off his tongue, moan when he sucks your bottom lip and bites it, you beg between quick breaths and Aemond continues to rub himself against you, the kiss becoming sloppier, driving him crazy with how irresistible you are in this state. You give yourself completely to Aemond, without asking questions or making new complaints, and it drives him crazy.

"You are mine. Only mine. And you will never leave me again, do you understand?" He murmurs as he pulls away, both of you panting, looking seriously into your water-bright eyes, noting how they're a little wide and your mouth is swollen and wet from his kisses.

A few tears slide down your face, but you smile shakily at him, the hand in his hair stroking the silver strands lovingly.

"I am yours, Aem. Now and forever." Honesty bleeds into your shallow voice, your little fingers on your other hand tentatively tangling with the buckles of his shirt to open it.

Aemond rests his forehead against yours and truly smiles for the first time in a long, long time. Not a malicious, mocking or condescending smile... No, this time his lips are stretched into a small, but genuine, honest smile.

And it's because of you.

Because he knows he got what he wanted so much. He has you again. He was resilient, he was patient and he was fair. He fought and, with his efforts, created a space just for himself within your heart. He knows you're still unhappy with everything that's going on, and no matter how much he wants to, he can't change that. He can only strengthen you to bear it. It can only burrow deeper into your body and your heart until you are able to forget the atrocities that are happening around you - the horrible things that he is doing. It's a gaping hole in your chest that leaves you continually bleeding, he knows, but the exposed cut is so sweet, and here he is, licking the wound like an animal, with all the violent, relentless gentleness he has to offer as the vengeful prince that he is.

He wraps his arms around you, pushing his cock back into your abused pussy in a deep movement that draws a broken sound from both of you, pulling you against his chest. He rubs his sweaty face against your throat, your face, your hair. His voice syrupy and thick as he whispers, "I love you."

Fuck. Aemond would never let you go.

#aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen smut #ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond imagine #aemond one eye #aemond x reader #hotd x reader #hotd aemond #prince aemond #aemond x fem!reader #dance of the dragons #aemond smut

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maeby-cursed · 7 months

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teenage dirtbag!suguru geto who waits for you in the parking lot after class. clad in a black hoodie covered in bleached designs, and baggy jeans, he looks like something straight out of your dirtiest fantasies.

he smiles when he sees you, the dimples he got from his cheek piercings in full display. he looks sweet as a peach pie like this — a feature that seems out of place coming from the wild-haired, smoky-eyed boy —, but you know that nobody else gets to see him the way you do.

that makes you smile.

teenage dirtbag!suguru geto who teaches you how to ride a skateboard. he sits you down on the deck and positions himself behind you, keeping your legs between his. you both propel yourselves with a couple of kicks to the ground and speed down the ramp of the park.

his friends laugh at the sight of you shrieking with delight, and he smiles, pushing your hair to the side so he can see your eyes, brimming with adrenaline and a danger that begins to taste like him.

teenage dirtbag!suguru geto who is there for every single one of your firsts and kind of regrets not being able to experience his own with you. he holds your hair during your first hangover, doesn’t laugh when you cough after your very first drag of a cigarette, and sleeps under your lilac covers after you’ve spent your first night with him.

teenage dirtbag!suguru geto who drops out of school because he finds it tedious, who is kicked out of his parents' house. who now lives with his best friend satoru, and is studying cosmetics at a course.

you've seen his sketchbooks, his delicate and intricate designs. you've seen how he braids some of his hair when he's tense and how he applies red shadows with care whenever you two go out on a date. you’ve seen how much talent he has.

he dreams of being a tattoo artist and you’re sure he will be.

teenage dirtbag!suguru geto who is reluctant to tattoo you. he's been doing this for two years now; he's done full backs, arms and legs. he's even done piercings; eyebrows, nipples, bellybuttons.

but your skin is different. your body contains your person and he doesn't feel quite ready to mark it.

yet he's never been good at saying no to you so he ends up giving in.

teenage dirtbag!suguru geto who, at twenty, spends his evenings in your shitty apartment contemplating the little heart he carved into your hip and kissing it.

grown teenage dirtbag!suguru geto who helps you with your studies, who's not quite a teenager anymore but who still takes you to the park from time to time, to watch that shine in your eyes come to life when you ride his skateboard again – just like it did that first time.

grown teenage dirtbag!suguru geto who never gives up his black eye shadow even if the years go by, who keeps a little bit of his old self in his combat boots, in his chipped nail polish.

grown teenage dirtbag!suguru geto who at twenty-six adopts two girls whose parents also threw them out, who works double shifts every day until he’s twenty-nine and is able to open his own tattoo shop, who keeps on working so they can get the lives he believes they deserve.

grown teenage dirtbag!suguru geto who still listens to his favorite songs. ‘one of us’ and ‘american idiot’ and ‘teenagers’; who dances with you and your little girls to all of them.

grown teenage dirtbag!suguru geto who, although his exterior never truly softens, has always been full of kindness and clouds.

grown teenage dirtbag!suguru geto who deep down knows that a part of him will be eternally misunderstood by everyone else, yet who recognizes something in your eyes; something that assures him that in this house – this house he’s built with love and devotion to his true self – everyone else does understand him. and know him.

and love him still.

#˙⋆ 𓂃 ࣪ch. thoughts !#no i do not wtf this is either #jjk imagines #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto x you #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto x reader #geto x you #geto fluff #geto suguru fluff #geto suguru imagines

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torasplanet · 5 months

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❝𝙃𝙀𝘼𝙍𝘿 𝙃𝙀 𝙂𝙀𝙏 𝙄𝙏 𝙒𝙀𝙏, 𝙄 𝙂𝙀𝙏 𝙄𝙏 𝙒𝙀𝙏𝙏𝙀𝙍.ᐟ❞

I. KUROKAWA + F. READER

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 ; you don't know if ran knows how to eat pussy or just doesn't want to but izana definitely wants to.

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 ; smut, oral(f!receiving), cheating, mention of a threesome, pussy eating champ!izana, hair pulling, izanas a freak lmao, girlfriend stealer!izana, ran is kinda described as a dick, izana wanting to fuck you since forever, consensual phototaking, tenjiku!izana, praise, light degradation, petnames (doll, whore, pumpkin eater), teasing, prt 2 in works, actually came up with part 2 first, skin color not mentioned.

“Yo Izana!” You yelled from your spot on the ground with your eyes trailing up the fire escape stairs to the window the white-haired man sat on just staring out the window with Bohemian Rhapsody playing loudly from inside his apartment. He was in a tight-fitting white shirt and gym shorts and his hair was a bit unkept than usual as if he had just woken up from a nap.

His lilac gaze traveled down from the bright sky to you, you were in nothing but a hoodie and shorts, just something quick you threw on before coming here “Can I come up?” You asked tilting your head and squinting your eyes from the brightness of the sun shining on your face. His lilac eyes stayed focused on you before he gestured his head inside.

A smile grew on your face as you watched him throw his legs inside of the apartment and turn his back toward you yet leaving the window open. You hurried up the rusty fire escape stairs feeling it quake with each fast and heavy step you took the metal of it peeling off and falling on your sneakers and onto the ground below. You reached the window and poked your head inside of the window.

You had come here to get away from your boyfriend, Ran. He was really pissing you off with his whole nonchalant act he always put up for every single thing especially when you guys were arguing. You didn’t even have to be arguing for him to do that, you could just be having a serious talk and his attitude would turn it into an argument.

All you wanted was to ask him about why he never goes down on you and he just laid there in his bed acting like he didn’t give two shits about you blabbering “I don’t know…”s and “Later.” not even sparing you a glance. You should’ve listened when Rindou told you his brother was lazy and not to date him.

Even when you two did get together, Rindou still warned you and you should’ve listened then too because you were just starting to get a taste of how much ran could care. There wasn’t even a grape in that fruit’s basket.

Izana stood in the room near the small stereo holding a CD “What’re you here for?” The Kurokawa boy asked not even looking at you as you climbed inside his room.

Truth is you didn’t really know why you were here either. You’d only been to Izana’s house twice and once was with Ran and Rindou, The other was just because you were bored so coming here when you’re angry at Ran was the first time this had ever happened.

You had one idea in your head when you started walking out of your apartment, you needed someone to do what Ran didn’t and your feet carried you to Izana’s house and before you knew it, you were already here so might as well go along with it right? You weren’t really worried about whether Izana would go along with it or not because it was obvious he would.

From the moment you met Izana, he had his eye on you. Every time you stepped into his line of vision, his eyes would stay on you until you left and they would roam around your body and your face often finding interest in your lips or your legs. You were sure ran noticed but he never said anything so you weren’t going to say anything either. You definitely weren’t going to say how you kind of liked the eyes constantly on you.

“Just wanna talk to someone.” You said sitting down hesitantly on the edge of his bed watching as he finally turned around after putting up the CD “Isn’t that what Ran’s for?” Izana questioned tilting his head slightly with a look of amusement on his face but not yet smiling.

Izana sat on the bed next to you as you shrugged “He barely listens.” Izana didn’t respond to that and leaned closer to you just a bit making his earrings that he seemed to never take off jingle and sway. He collapsed back onto his bed still looking at you.

“What makes you think I will?” He asked as you both made eye contact with your head turning to face him. That was a good question. Izana cared very little for most people and it was obvious to everyone.

He only listens when he wants to so the thought that he’d just easily let you talk is foolish “Because you let me inside.” Izana broke eye contact and stared up at his popcorn ceiling wishing he could just smoothen it out. He didn’t say anything in response to your statement telling you he had nothing more to say as you were most likely right.

You lied back on the bed too now face-to-face with him staring at him and his pretty features as he stared up at the ceiling “Izana if you had a girlfriend-” “I don’t.” You stifled a laugh at how quick he was to respond to that not even letting you finish your statement but containing yourself.

“Yeah but if you did, would you eat her out?” You asked and even though he didn’t know it, it shocked Izana.

Asking a question like that as if it was an everyday question such as asking someone if they brushed their teeth this morning was completely foul and out of pocket in Izana’s opinion but being out of pocket was kind of his whole thing so it didn’t weird him out.

What really shocked him was that you were asking him as if you didn’t have a boyfriend who’d hate it if he knew about this, well he didn’t know if Ran would really but mad because he was a little sex freak who’d probably ask for a threesome if he knew but if Izana was him, he’d be furious. Great thing he wasn’t ran and instead was on the other end of the situation.

His purple eyes trailed back to your face with an unreadable feeling in them “Yeah.” His head now fully turned to you “Why? Ran isn’t?” It’s like Izana can read people’s minds or more or so, read their expressions. That’s one thing Izana has picked up in his years in so many different places, people’s thoughts are very clear by their expressions and he saw right through yours.

“No. I wish I knew why.” The tanned male hummed in response as he turned his head back toward the ceiling as a strong gust of wind blew into the room from the still open window “Sucks for him.”

Your face contorted into one of confusion as you continued to gaze at the male, clearly, it didn’t suck on Ran’s part if he was the one not wanting to do it so what the hell was he talking about?

“Why would it suck for him? I’m the one that’s suffering.” Izana glanced at you out of the corner of his eye and a smile grew on his face as if he found what you said funny. You swear you could see him holding a laugh in.

“Eating a girl out is one of the best experiences ever. He’s missin’ out. Anyone will tell you that.” Izana said with a small laugh looking away from you who was silent.”

It’s not like Ran’s never ate you out before, he did it one time at the very start of your relationship and it was great so why didn’t he do it again? He was clearly skilled with his tongue and his fingers “Well…he has one time and it was really good but I don’t know why it was only once.” You replied with a shrug looking away from the tanned man and you felt the bed shift making you look back at him.

Izana was now lying on his side looking at you with his head being supported by his hand and his smile was long gone “I can promise you I do it better.” It was like sugar was laced in his words as they spilled from his lips and went into your head, you didn’t even get to process it and just stared at him shocked he’d even say that.

Izana was always a straight-forward guy about what he wanted and what he thought but you didn’t think he’d be like that with stuff like this or with you because of his lack of words to you about any type of feelings toward you. He never went to hide his stares on you yet he never said anything relating to it when you two talked, as if the stares didn’t exist at all and YouTube was just the best of buds and he didn’t eye-fuck you.

However, when you did process your words…there wasn’t anything that made you doubt that he could do it better. “Oh really?” Izana nodded with a hum at your questioning obviously not backing down and excusing it with it ‘just being a joke’. He was 100% serious about this.

“I can prove it to you. If you’d like.” Izana said with the smile on his face returning, you almost giggled at his tone from flustered-ness like a high school girl. This was exactly what you wanted. Someone to do what ran couldn’t or…wouldn’t.

He sat up straight still staring down at you with a smile awaiting your answer “I’d love that.” You said with a lustful look in your eyes while you kicked your shoes off your feet and onto the floor of his bedroom. Izana didn’t say anything and his eyes narrowed down at you like you were his next meal and you were.

He sat in front of you on his knees as you placed your legs on the bed, he wasted no time spreading your legs and going to pull down the shorts and throw them behind him not caring where they landed but you saw them land right on his desk where his stereo was “Don’t think ran would like you doing this very much.” Izana said teasingly with his once kind and lascivious smile turning into a devilish one and your smirk didn’t falter and only grew at his comment.

“Yeah but if he’s not gonna then who will? No one can’t blame me.” Izana ran his hands up and down your legs teasing you as he pulled at the sides of your panties before letting them go and snap back against your skin, he did this over and over every time his hands found their way to your inner thigh growing oh so close to the wet spot that had grown in your panties “I don’t blame you.” Izana muttered with his hands stopping and his long fingers finding their way back to the sides of your panties.

He slowly pulled them off of you making you bite your lip from how he maintained eye contact with you the whole time. The look in his eyes showed desire as if he was starving and had been for ages.

Watching you trail around the city with ran by your side, the male’s lanky arm lazily wrapped around your waist either hugging you close to him or resting on your ass as you leaned into him lovingly. Izana wished that was him. He wished it was his tanned arm that was wrapped around your waist, his slender fingers kneading the flesh of your ass in public like it was nothing, his cheek that your soft lips were pressing kisses into. He wished he was in Ran’s place and after hearing how Ran hasn’t even been taking advantage of how he has you and how you want to get eaten on, he really fucking wished he was in Ran’s place.

If Izana was your boyfriend instead of ran, he’d eat you out every chance he’d get. He’d thought about it a million times when his lilac irises were trailing up and down your legs just wanting to pry them open and dig in. He’d ask you every day maybe every moment and he wouldn’t waste time the moment you allowed him to just like he was doing right now.

He wanted you so fucking bad and he never said it, to anyone but he sure as hell wasn’t going to hide it. It’s not like he could anyway. How could Izana possibly find any way to hide his obvious feelings for you and the want of your love and body?

Izana didn’t throw the panties to the side like he did with your shorts and placed them on the bed as if they were fine china while you were busy taking off your hoodie from the sudden increase in heat which might’ve just been the embarrassment of being the only one exposed getting to you “But…I do blame you for not coming to me earlier. I would’ve done this if you asked a long time ago pumpkin eater.” You giggled at his newly found nickname for you and put your hands on top of his stopping them at your knees so you could get your laughs out.

“Did you just call me pumpkin eater?” You asked in disbelief earning a small chuckle from Izana, you don’t think you’ve ever heard Izana laugh before today. Maybe even smile, you have no idea but you liked it. You liked it a lot.

Izana nodded lightly as you got the nickname and what it meant. Even in moments when he was sort of being vulnerable, he was still being an ass.

“May I continue?” Izana asked politely with a smile still on his face, he didn’t have to ask twice or raise an eyebrow for an answer for you to take your hands off his allowing him to move on.

His eyes darted down to your now bare cunt basically squeezing around nothing, he trailed one hand down there with his fingers tickling the skin on your thigh “You’re so pretty y’know that?” Izana complimented not looking up at you and circling your hole with his pointer finger making you whine out in anticipation while throwing your head back against the sheets.

“Been wanting to get between these precious legs since I laid eyes on you.” The white-haired male said slipping one finger inside of you slowly, he didn’t move it nor did he add another finger but it stayed there as his thumb slowly drew circles on your clit “Then why don’t you hurry and get down there!” You whimpered out your brows furrowing in frustration with the teasing of the bundle of nerves and no movement inside of you, he wasn’t even going to add another finger to make you feel full…so mean.

He blinked up at you but you didn’t see it as you were too busy whining with your eyes closed “I want you to look at me first.” Izana said with his thumb stilling and pulling out his finger earning a small groan for you. Your eyes fluttered open and you gazed up at him with pleading eyes, he didn’t move for a second and stared back at you.

Both of his hands went to the back of your thigh squeezing tightly before he lowered his head down maintaining eye contact with you until you couldn’t see his eyes anymore, you squeezed your eyes shut again your hands balling into fists from the attention he was giving your clit. Izana was making sure to give you as much attention as he physically could, he wanted you to know how good he wanted you to feel and the effort he was putting into it.

If he couldn’t have you and could only taste you, he wanted to make sure the taste of your orgasm was the best one you had ever gotten “Izana…” The sound of his name leaving your lips in a moan made his pants get tighter and he felt his raging boner rubbing against the confinements of his boxers, god he hoped you’d let him fuck you after this. He really wanted that.

To feel the warmness of your cunt sucking him in, to feel you tightening around him when he made you tip over your edge and undo yourself all over his cock. It was his most wanted dream and he hoped you would be his queen and make them come true and make his lap your throne but for now, it’d have to be his face.

Your hand went to his head and twisted your fingers in the thick and silky strands of his white hair as your back rose from the bed. You looked up at the ceiling remembering your darling boyfriend who was probably at home taking a nap because ‘the argument tired him out so much’ and it pissed you off.

Thinking about him was sort of ruining your mood and how Izana was going down on you like he hadn’t eaten in several days. You felt Izana’s mouth leaving your cunt and looked down seeing him staring at you his hand continuing to move “You alright there? Lookin’ kinda for a queen, aren’t you?” Izana said with a small smile appearing on his face tilting his head slightly and making his earrings sway and jingle once more.

You giggled slightly “Are you thinking about Haitani?” Izana asked taking his free hand and running it up your shirt and resting it on your tummy just drawing circles around your belly button comfortingly. You bit your lip when his fingers hit an extra sensitive spot reminding you that he was still going but you nodded silently at his question.

Izana rested his head on your thigh his hair tickling your skin “Then do me a favor…” His comforting smile turned into a malicious one with the darkest thoughts hiding behind it and you didn’t know if scared you or not but you knew you still loved it. His hand slipped from under your shirt and went to your hoodie you put on the bed and pulled out your phone from the pocket.

“Send him a couple of photos of me eating this pretty pussy. Make sure you keep ‘em too.” Izana said lowly throwing your phone onto your stomach before lowering his head back down not giving you any time to respond before he started licking your cunt once again. Mhm…you liked that idea.

Sending Ran a few photos just ready for him to open up after he’s done with his little princess nap and disturb him and fuck up his whole day.

You fumbled to grab the phone and angle it so you could get the perfect photo of Izana’s white hair sprawled all along your lower abdomen as he ate you out. You took multiple photos smiling as you did so and your smile only grew wider when Izana lifted his head to look up at you wondering what all that giggling was that was coming from your lips.

You made sure to take a bunch of photos of that sight. He looked so pretty like that. His lips shone with the wetness of your pussy, his lilac eyes shining focused on you his white lashes fluttering with every blink as the sun shined through the window making his tan skin glow like he was an angel sent from above just to treat you how you’ve wanted to be.

Actually no…he wasn’t an angel. Izana was a king. The prettiest one you had ever seen and he was marking you as his queen with his fingers shaping your cunt to fit his fingers and tongue perfectly, he reached over and grabbed the phone from your hands and scrolled through the camera roll still making you moan with his fingers running along the walls of your cunt hitting all those spongy spots “Took a bunch of pictures, must really like how I look.” Izana said smiling at you as he threw the phone on the bed.

You nodded your tongue lolling out “I do!” You shouted.

You didn’t know if he sent the pictures just then or if he was going to do it later but it didn’t matter because he was still putting your pleasure over getting back at Ran. As badly as he wanted to, he wanted you to feel good first.

“Aw, I like your face too doll.” Izana complimented with a smile bringing his fingers out before placing his hand on your inner thigh spreading them further apart so he could have better access.

You wondered if Izana ate other girls he fucked with like this or if you were special and he was doing his absolute best and it was probably that. If it wasn’t, you’d be in pure disbelief because you just couldn’t believe that this was his regular pussy eating skills…you could imagine what he was doing at his best.

Your back arched up above the bed as you gripped his scarlet red bedsheets digging your head further into the mattress. Your hand went back to his head grabbing onto his hair tightly and you heard a muffled moan come from him making you look down and he looked up through his long white eyelashes practically begging for you to do it again.

You nearly forgot what he wanted because you were getting so lost in his haze of lilac hues staring up at you and clearly he didn’t like that. Izana gently nipped at your clit making your body jerk and your hands grab at his hair once again as you moaned “Izana!” Your eyes squeezed shut as you jerked your hips up into his mouth.

His lips latched onto your clit suckling at it as his hands trailed down from your thigh once again his fingertips tickling your bare skin as it made its way to your crotch and two of his fingers found their way back into your hole. Izana’s hard-on was rubbing against his bed making him groan into your cunt and your constantly pulling at his hair made him even harder.

If he stood up you could probably see how hard his cock was even through his loose shorts and he wanted you to. He wanted you to see how hard you were making him just from him eating you out alone “Uh, Uh, Uh!” You shouted your chest rising and falling with each whorish moan that fell from your tongue. Izana chuckled lightly smiling on your clitoris “Such a whore, doll. Ran make you moan like this?” Izana asked his words slightly muffled as his mouth was still on your pussy.

The vibration of his words sent chills up your spine and you could barely focus on what he said as you felt it more than you heard it. “Uh huh!” You yelled hoping that was the right response to his questions but you quickly learned that it wasn’t when his fingers stopped moving inside of you. Your eyes snapped open and you looked down at him.

His lilac gaze which was once full of a bit of demand and much more begging was now glaring at you angrily “‘M sorry! Didn’t hear you!” You whined wanting nothing but for him to keep going. Izana didn’t dare take his mouth away from your clit and just stared up at you through his light eyelashes that fluttered with every blink.

He sighed closing his eyes and looking calmer than he did before “Whore gets someone in between her legs and just forgets to listen.” Izana said as you whimpered at the feeling of his breath on your clit. He lifted his face liking his lips that were wet with your slick “I asked you if Ran ever made you moan like a whore.” He repeated rubbing his fingerprints gently over the ridges of your walls making sure to hit your sweet spot making you whine and you closed your eyes again.

Your hands retracted from his hair and covered your face as you tried to find the words that were constantly dissolving on your tongue like sugar because of the teasing. Ran has made you moan like that before, ran has made you cry on his dick to the point Rindou had to bang on the door telling you two to shut the fuck up just because of your sobbing but that wasn’t the answer Izana was looking for and if he didn’t get the answer he wanted, you weren’t getting what you wanted either.

“Nooo! You do it too good baby!” Izana grinned at your words and started thrusting his fingers in and out of you once again “Oh I’m baby now?” You nodded violently at his question and he chuckled again before lowering his face again and sealing his lips back onto your bundle of nerves lapping at your clit with his tongue.

Izana knew you didn’t call Ran baby. He never heard you say it but he didn’t know what went down behind the scenes but he could just tell. Izana didn’t give a shit what you called Ran whether you called him Daddy or something like that because he was perfectly fine being your baby ;)

Izana groaned into your cunt as he felt himself cumming against the fabric of his boxers and he knew that it seemed through and there was probably a wet spot on his shorts now.

The pace of his fingers hastened and he hit your sweet spot over and over trying to get you to cum as hard as you could “Mhm…’m cummin’ baby…” You moaned submissively running your fingers through Izana’s hair once again but you weren’t pulling on it. You were so close and had accepted your descent into submissiveness and being brainless.

Izana moved his tongue from your clit and right in front of your whole just ready for you to cum in his mouth “Go ahead, cum for me.” With that, you burst all over his fingers and tongue your eyes rolling to the back of your skull as your breath hitched.

Izana slowly pulled his fingers out of you and placed them in his mouth sucking all your cum off his digits maintaining eye contact with you. You breathed heavily still staring at him while he sat up on his knees and your eyes focused on the bulge in his shorts and a smile grew on your face.

Sitting up, you grabbed at the waistband of his gym shorts and peered at him “Wanna help you. It’s only right…you helped me.” You said shrugging your shoulders while giving him a sheepish smile but he saw the intent behind your eyes. The sluttiness of your words certainly brought that out too.

Izana didn’t say anything and just stared at you with a matching slutty smile on his face. I mean, you were right. It was only fair he get a little reward too and he wanted to be in your pussy and give you the best fuck of your life along with the head. He wanted the gold and he wanted to share it with you.

©torasplanet .ᐟ reblogs and likes are very appreciated! pls do not repost!!

#torasplanet.ᐟ #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers x reader #marls-fics.ᐟ #izana kurokawa #izana kurokawa smut #izana smut #izana kurokawa x reader #tokyo rev smut #tokyo rev x reader #◛⑅·˚'zana^^#this is kinda bad srry

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lilacqiqis · 4 months

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"Darling"

naruto, kakashi, obito(non massacre), hinata, itachi(non massacre), sasuke, sai

Scenario: getting casually called darling by their crush

A/N: pls send in Naruto reqs I'm starving to write stuff, also finally decided to give characters specific emojis LMAO last post i made i randomly gave them emojis 😭 Writing this at 3 AM sorry if it's ass -mod Lilac

TW: none, GN!reader

more under the cut

🌱 Naruto isn't used to romantic affection from people, let alone his crush, so his reaction when you call him "darling" is a huge gaping mouth and stuttering as he tries to process what you said

🌱 "W-wait!! Whuh?! Huhhh?!! Whaddja call me?!"

🌱 Whether it's a joke or not he has a dorky smile after as he laughs, the pet name making him feel warm inside. He probably will try and call you a pet name back afterwards, hoping you'll like it just as much as he did.

🌱 Goes to brag to all his friends the next day. "Hey hey! Guess what?! S/O called me DARLING!!" Nobody really cares too much honestly, they think he's overreacting or even lying.

🌾 A stoic man he is, that Kakashi. Not much can get him flustered, besides reading Icha Icha of course.

🌾 He usually can keep his feelings hidden away from his crush, treating you like any of his other friends, but when you call him darling? Lucky that he's wearing a mask because you'd be able to see the huge blush forming on his face.

🌾 He'd try not to react too much, his eye slightly widening and body tensing up when the word hits him. It felt so... Natural? The pet name came off your tongue so nicely that Kakashi can't help but want to hear it more.

🌾 Wouldn't comment on it, but may bring it up in the future to tease you. Perhaps to get back at them he'll also call you a romantic pet name... Nah, he's too nervous to do that, if he was that bold he'd go and just confess already!

🌺 Like Naruto, Obito is flabbergasted. He's liked you for gods who knows how long and you can just casually call him that while he becomes a mess just hugging you?

🌺 His head whips towards you so quickly as he stares at you with wide eyes. How is he supposed to react to this?! Does this mean you like him...? Did you even mean this romantically in the first place? Do you call other people that too?!

🌺 His mind is running and he just kinda... Stares at you in awe. Don't let him down by telling him it was just a joke when he questions you later, he'll be devastated.

🌺 Obito will try and be confident, calling you an affectionate pet name as well but all that comes out is stuttering.

🌺 "Heheh... I think so too, s... S-sweet... Sw-sweethEART OKIMGOINGTOGONOWBYES/O"

🌻 Goes absolutely red. Hinata already gets embarrassed by little gestures so something like getting called darling is sure to make her pass out!

🌻 Did you really mean that? She hopes so! That small name made her day, and she won't ever forget about it<3

🌻 Of course, she's still too shy to admit her feelings to you. If that was your way of confessing you'd be dumb to not see that she obviously likes you too... You'd probably be dumb to not notice her behavior before, after all Hinata isn't very good at hiding her feelings towards you.

🌻 She wouldn't realize it's a confession of your attraction if that was your motive, so please be more blunt with her.

🌙 If you think he wouldn't remember, he will. Itachi is a romantic individual, though not as much before a relationship. He takes note of everything S/O says, and will try to hint towards his feelings through small actions and words.

🌙 Absolutely loves it. Itachi will think about the pet name, wondering if you'd mind if he called you that as well. Maybe you'd get embarrassed that you're getting a taste of your own medicine? It's not the humiliation part Itachi would enjoy, but he'd love to see your flustered face.

🌙 Doesn't make a huge fuss when you call him darling, probably doesn't even say anything about it, but has a small smile while thinking about it.

🌙 Will begin to also call you pet names!! It depends on how close you are, but if you two are good friends he'll return your affection. You two probably end up having a lot of romantic tension while everybody suffers watching wondering if one of you two will finally confess or not...

🪻 Sasuke loves hates it. Do NOT call him that cheesy warm and gooey shit, he will scoff at you then turn his head away. jk he just has an ego to protect

🪻 Hates how it makes him feel. That disgusting ticklish feeling he gets in his stomach and the heat in his face makes him feel weak and vulnerable, so stop that. This is just as bad as a genjutsu and he doesn't like it one bit!

🪻 In reality though, Sasuke adores being called darling. He's just... Really bad at dealing with affection you know? He doesn't know how to react and the feeling of love is so foreign to him, so his only way of reacting is acting like he hates it in hopes of ridding his feelings. (Spoiler alert:it doesn't help one bit.)

🪻 You can catch him with a soft blush and tiny smirk on his face if you can catch a glance before he turns his head. Quit being such a loser and just accept it, Sasuke!

🪶 This was mentioned in his book, so Sai should act accordingly, right? He'll begin to also call you pet names, and he probably already did before you due to the fact he read a book saying he should...

🪶 Doesn't quite understand the meaning behind the sweet names but he's trying his best

🪶 It makes him happy though, being able to connect with you... Someone he enjoys being around so much, someone who he feels he has a "special" bond with.

🪶It creeps into your twos friendship, and before you know it you two are acting like a married couple with all your affectionate behavior.

#mod.lilac.writes #naruto x reader #kakashi x reader #obito x reader #hinata x reader #hinata hyuga x reader #itachi x reader #itachi uchiha x reader #sasuke x reader #sai x reader #naruto headcanons

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cherieiu · 2 months

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; SAY YES TO ME,

sypn. whether he likes it or not, insecurity chased him — you're too much for him, too loving, too caring — he doesn't (does) deserve you. pairing. aventurine x gn!reader notepad. super super short omg i tried my best D:, its vv icky and kinda ooc, for @toorurs (EWW THE BIGGEST ICK OUT THERE VIOLENTLY THROWS UP MAJOR ICKKK) this is so icky ick i'll write more aven as an apology!! reblogs are super duper appreciated!!!

they say, 'to be loved is to be changed', yet the mellow bitterness rests still in his heart, immotile and repulsive. the warm feeling you induce in him nauseates him. your honeyed voice sings him sweet nothings, your fingertips lovingly worship his skin — he doesn't deserve this heaven, he doesn't deserve you. he only taints with every fleeting touch, his opalescent gaze alone filthies you. aventurine sickens himself, you're forced to carry the burden of him (undeserving and of little worth) on your shoulders.

"isn't it tiring?" his voice is hushed, vulnerability seeping through every word. the hem of his shirt is tightly crumpled between the crevices of his hand, the sweet taste of insecurity melted onto his tongue. his shoulder tense with tangible anxiety— a dangerous gamble he's willing to lay his heart vulnerable for.

"aren't i tiring?"

the dim iridescent moonlight blankets your frame and his - you look ethereal, he swallows the words down.

"no! of course not," how the words slip past your candied lips with such ease. the scent of lilac gloss lays heavily in the air and on his lips — the sticky kisses that smear onto his skin, the constant reminder of you.

"you're not lying, are you?" uncertainty laces his voice, "do you promise?"

you nod, pressing candy-like kisses on his pillowy lips with a determination to convince him. "you'd be able to tell if i was," you breathe out, blonde strands tickling your nose.

"it's hard to tell when it's you," his voice painfully aches of longing, for your comfort — the cup he held never overflowed — , satiates his thirst for repeated words with lost meanings. "it's like i can't see through you- just makes it hard to tell," (as if you're a clouded mirror, only with his warmth can he see past the fog) the confession slips past his lips, silently hanging in the air.

you glance up at him with curiousity, "is it? then, can you tell if i love you?"

his breath tenses - do you truly love him? the line between truth and lie blurs, he can't discern the two; if he were a shameless man with nothing left to give, he allows the words to swallow him. with so little left, it wouldn't hurt, would it? — regardless of truth or lie, he's a starved man who'll indulge in this.

"yes, you do," serenity's a sea, it never stills yet he only wishes for this moment to last — may it be a memory he'll run back to in his dreams.

cherieiu 2024 © plagiarism, use of ai, reposting and translation is not permitted.

#xue:fics!#hsr x reader #honkai star rail #aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine #aventurine x you #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x you #EWW I HATE THUS THROWING UP VIOLENTLY?!

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minhosimthings · 8 months

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Good Girl: A Heeseung smut drabble

Pairings: Heeseung × Virgin!fem!reader

Warnings: smut, oral (both recieving and giving), swearing, Reader is heavily referred to as 'good girl' MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

A/N: I don't know where this drabble came from I definitely did not write it at one am in the morning it's just magic. But it's not entirely my fault! Blame @heeliopheelia (who I hope doesn't mind me tagging her) for encouraging me! Also dis marks my third smut work and my second one for Enha after my Jay drabble. so yay milestone I guess. I SWEAR I'LL WORK ON THE HYUNJIN FIC LATER

And yet again, the amazing playboy Lee Heeseung had convinced another girl to let him take her virginity. Except this time it was a girl whom he loved and wanted to spend the rest of his life with instead of just some dumb one night stand. He had asked you, very gently if you wanted to do the deed one day, and he was pleasantly surprised to find out you were 'pure' in his terms. To say that he was excited was an understatement. Oh he was escstatic when you told him that you wanted to do it. So you let him take it. Take the only thing you've had for your entire life. Your 'pureness', in his words.

"Lay down for me baby." Heeseung gently put you down on the bed after carrying you from the couch, even though you insisted you could just walk up. But Heeseung wouldn't ever give his princess anything less than princess treatment, so there was no budging there.

"Oh wow are those-?" Heeseung stared down at your waist, which was bejeweled with the baby pink lingerie he had gotten you last week as a gift for getting through the week without having a mental breakdown. "I-I thought you'd like it." You stuttered out to him, at which point Heeseung melted into a puddle, seeing his good girl be so fucking innocent for him. "Take off your bra for me please baby." He said as he grinded his hardened cock against the soft silk of your panties. You took off the bra without hesitation and grabbed his hair as he lightly squeezed your exposed tits, bending down to your ear. "We're gonna try something new today, ok baby?" You let out a silent mewl in response to his pretty voice whispering in your ears. He started leaving a trail of wet kisses, beginning from your collarbone all the way down to your hip. "Hee- Hee what are you doing?" You asked, trying to keep your moans in. "Don't worry babe." He smirked up at you. "You'll enjoy this. Just try not to moan so much alright? Don't want the neighbours to know what we're doing do we?" You could only whine in response as Heeseung grabbed the elastic of your panties and ripped them off with his teeth, making your legs shiver, which in turn made Heeseung's cock hard, as to how his innocent girl didn't know what he was about to do. "Hee- Heeseung wha- Oh fuck!" Whatever Heeseung had done to your pussy with those pretty little lips of his was enough to make you scream out in pleasure. The grip on your lilac bedsheets tightened as Heeseung gave kitten kisses to your squirming pussy. "Do you like that baby?" Heeseung smirked up at you. "Does my good girl want this more?" "Heeseung- ngh- please!" You moaned at him, tightening your legs around his head, making him moan with you. He attacked your cunt again with his tongue this time, sweeping fast between your folds, only making you moan louder. Heeseung was in heaven, stuck in the ever tightening grip between your gorgeous legs. He slowly drank up your juices, as you whined, loosening your grip on his hair, now that he had slowed down a bit.

"The way this pussy tastes-" Heeseung panted, wiping his mouth and rising to your level' "-makes me think you aren't really my good girl. Are you my good girl baby?" He had stopped eating you out, like a madman and was now taunting you. If there was one thing Lee Heeseung craved for, it was seeing his good little girl's eyes roll to the back of her pretty head and for incoherent words to stumble out of her pretty mouth. "Want-to be-your good girl Seungie." You mumbled, not having anything in your orgasm-drunk brain except for your boyfriend's (read: future husband) beautiful face dangling above yours.

"Do you want to give your daddy pleasure baby?" He shot you that hot smirk again. "Do you want to pay him back?" "I-I don-dont know how to, daddy." You whimpered, widening your eyes. So fucking innocent, Heeseung internally laughed.

"It's alright baby." He stroked your hair gently and kissed your forehead before plopping onto the bed next to you. "I'll teach you. Get on top of me first." You obeyed his commands, like a lamb obeying a wolf, and swiftly got on top of him, while he took off his belt. You tried not to stare at his cock as he slowly removed his tight fit jeans, and cupped your face in his hands, taking in the way you gently stroked his abs.

"Now-" he growled as you bent down to his mouth. "bend down to my cock and put it in that cute mouth of yours." "Wha-" "Do it." He commanded once again, voice firm and strict and unlike the babying one he usually used with his good girl.

"Now suck my dick baby just like the good girl you always were." Heeseung spread his legs far apart as you shivered a bit and gripped onto the bedsheets.

"Oh fuck baby." Heeseung softly moaned as you lightly kissed his hardening cock. "Ahh fuck ahh shit." Heeseung pulled your hair ever so slightly and shoved your head deeper in almost choking you. Choking kink came in handy right? "You sure you haven't done this before?" Heeseung chuckled and moaned again, tightening his legs around you. You could get intoxicated on the noises coming out of his mouth, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down in his throat and his hands pulling your hair roughly. "Oh fuck I'm gonna cum" Heeseung voice rang out. "Take my cum baby. Swallow my cum like a good girl. That's all you are aren't you? My good girl. My good little girl." Heeseung let out a gasp, as you licked up his juices, and kissed his cock again and again, too drunk on everything happening. All you could see was Heeseung's pleasured face, praising you, and then you were lost in your cock-drunk limbo.

And the night faded away just like that as Heeseung got the best head of his life, as payment for giving you, something that you will beg for again In the coming days. Beg, like a pathetic good girl.

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upsidedownwithsteve · 2 years

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A continuation of Sweet On You and Sugar, Sugar

Steve Harrington x fem!reader [3.8k] best friends to lovers, sofa sex, who doesn't have a praise kink?

Honestly, there was a part of Steve that felt somewhat selfish in how the night was evolving.

He had you, his best friend, in his lap, dress pushed up your thighs, long legs over his and your hands in his hair, telling him how you wanted to touch him. It was a fucking wet dream, if he was honest.

And when you had whispered that you didn’t know what you were doing, lips brushing his, a flush over your skin, lips kiss bitten, he felt like a man unravelled. He had to take a deep breath, maybe two, maybe three before he could talk again, chest burning and god, he was painfully hard underneath you.

He knew you’d slept with other guys, but fucking hell he wanted to slap them all across the back of their heads for not taking their time with you, for not showing you how good all this could be. You looked nervous, like you were worried you’d said something wrong and he wondered if he could ever express to you how far from the truth that was.

He felt like he’d taken a shot of espresso, dived off of the edge of the quarry, ran a red light and ripped out of Hawkins, seatbelt off, one hundred and twenty miles an hour, straight to you.

Steve swallowed, wondering if you knew how nervous you made him, how your hands felt in his hair. He wondered if you knew that when you were both sixteen, you’d walked into his backyard one day with a pitcher of pink lemonade in your hands, a cherry red bikini on and that was it.

You’d wrecked him.

“I could teach you,” he whispered, wondering if it was the right thing to say, if he should’ve stopped altogether and not gone any further. ‘Cause you were his best friend and the idea of losing you was more terrifying than anything he’d ever had to take down with a baseball bat.

But he couldn’t fucking stop himself. Not when your lips parted at his words, interest and something else flickering in the dark of your eyes. He wondered if you knew that you were still moving your hips over him, waist twisting from side to side, just a little, just enough for the friction to burn between you both. Steve felt like he needed to put his fist through a wall, dunk his head under water.

He didn’t know he was holding his breath, waiting for an answer, until you said nodded. It rushed out of him like a tidal wave, heart hammering and feeling like he was sixteen again.

“I’d like that,” you murmured, voice coy and Steve had to close his eyes for a second, stars behind his lids, your quiet laugh filling the space between you both.

Bolstered by how flustered he was, you moved again, hips shifting with pressure as you crowded him, pressing a kiss to his top lip first before moving to his bottom. You let your tongue flick over the curve of it, grinning when he muttered out a string of curses that tasted like vodka and lemonade.

“Can you show me?” You blinked prettily, hand hover over the buckle of his belt, heart in your throat, ‘cause if you hadn’t already crossed the line, you were both about to vault over it now.

Steve chest was heaving, eyes fixed on you as if he was waiting for you to change your mind.

“Y’sure?” He asked, hand over yours, fingers twisted as you tapped a lilac painted fingernail over his metal button.

“Pretty sure, Harrington,” you nodded and suddenly everything was moving again.

A little slower now, anticipation building, the room still cloaked in the dark, the only light coming from the one that was left on in the kitchen, it’s faint flow barely flooding in through the archway. It painted stripes of gold over your thighs, a slither of it across one of the boys eyes, turning chocolate brown to caramel.

Your hand found the hem of Steve’s shirt, his answer to your silent question lying in the small tilt of his head and you lifted it as he stretched out his arms for you and the material fell somewhere behind you both, a dull thump against the coffee table.

Hair mussed, eyes wild, bare chested, you took him in. His hands had a vice grip on your waist, fitting perfectly into the dip there, the silky material of tour dress scrunched messily in his grasp, lifting the hem higher and higher until all he saw was skin.

You mouthed at his jaw, his neck, sucking a little bruise there that you know you’d see in the morning, gathering courage from the things you knew what to do, the things you knew felt good. Your nose nudged his as you moved to lips, mouths brushing, eyes closed in bliss.

“You’re so pretty,” you told him, voice breathy, “the prettiest boy.”

And if Steve had any issue with your choice of words, he didn’t say, his breath just fell a little heavier as his hands wandered, palms flats against your hips until they found their way underneath your dress, smoothing over the curve of your ass. His thumb found the edge of your underwear, filling beneath the lace of it and making himself groan.

He cursed, his words tumbling from his lips in a hiss, stretched out in a moan. He was going insane, he thought, he was dreaming surely. But your hands were back on his belt buckle and this time you tapped, once, twice, against the metal. A silent question that he had to answer.

He pulled back to meet your gaze, eyes darker than you’d ever seen then, lips a little swollen and glossy from where he’d pushed them to yours over and over again. You watched him swallow, throat bobbing and the sight of it all make you wanna press your thighs together.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Steve breathed out, eyes softening a little as he lifted a hand to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. His palm smoothed down your jaw and you hummed as you leaned into it, happy to feel his touch against you. “We really doing this?”

“You told me that if I said it,” you swallowed hard, nerves and anticipation and ten years of friendship tumbling in your stomach. “That you were mine.”

Steve nodded, fingertips dancing along your jawline, fluttering down the line of your neck as if he didn’t know where he wanted to touch you, as if he couldn’t possibly stop touching you.

“I just don’t wanna fuck this up, don’t wanna disappoint you…”

You were already shaking your head at his words, wondering how the boy in front of you - under you - could possibly think he’d be a let down. You were still shifting over him, rocking yourself against the hard length of him in his jeans, little by little.

“You won’t, you couldn’t,” you replied and well, if you sounded a little desperate, it was only because you’d been in love with Steve for far too long and the seam of his denim jeans was hitting up against exactly where you wanted.

You gave a small tug at his belt, watched in awe as his eyes flashed, his jaw tightened. The muscle there jumped and you wanted to bite down on it but Steve hands found their way to your hips again, fingers digging into the flesh there, just enough to make your jaw a little slack. His head was back against the sofa again, as if it was too much effort to keep it up and he looked at you from under his lashes, eyes hooded.

“Say it,” he whispered, “say it, please.”

Your hand stroked over the leather, the metal buckle that was now warm from where you gripped it. You could feel him against your palm, trapped right under his jeans and warm and hard against you. Steve’s hand was on the move, fingertips smoother up your knee, leaving lightning and heat on your leg until they dipped underneath the edge of your underwear, stroking over the soft, sensitive skin on the crease of your thigh.

It was suddenly so much harder to speak.

“I want you,” you murmured and despite what you’d already said, how you’d already pressed your body and mouth against the boy, this felt like letting go of a life long secret and it burned as it left your lips.

You thought that maybe things would go fast from there, at your words, your admission. Like it did in the movies, like it did in the back of seat of Jeremy Richards car, Kyle Mowbrays basement. All fast hands, hard thrusts, loud moaning.

But Steve just let out a breath, like he’d been holding it as he waited for your answer, before he cupped a hand to the back of your neck and brought you into him. His nose bumped at yours, a little playful before he leaned up from where he was reclined, just enough to dust some kisses over your lips, the corner of your mouth. He whispered his own secret into your skin, voice low and rough.

“I want you too.”

You tugged at his belt with no resistance now, his hands tightening on you as if he needed to steel himself for what was about to happen. The leather slapped against itself, the sound echoing in the large room and the buckle clinked prettily as it fell open. Your hand fumbled with the button, your brow creasing and your heart speeding up but you were stopped by the feel of Steve’s hand covering your own.

His mouth found your throat, sucking a small kiss there, stilling your movements, giving you a bruise that would match his.

“You’re good, babe,” he soothed, feeling the way your hands shook under his own, “I got you, here.”

And with that, he popped the button with deft fingers, his hand moving around yours without taking it away. He let you pull at the zip, teeth on your bottom lip as the sound of it crackled through the air. He nodded against you, nose pressed on the line of your throat, encouraging but never pushy.

You reached for him, tagging at his boxers, feeling him hot and hard and heavy in your palm as you pulled the length of him out. Steve’s response was immediate, his body tensing below you, his moan that he pressed into your neck, open mouthed and panting. He shuffled beneath you, let his jeans shuck down his hips a little and you rubbed your thumb over the tip of him experimentally, eyebrows raising when he bucked into your hand.

“I wanna make you feel good,” you told him, eyes full of doubt, heart hammering like you were sixteen again and this was the first time playing anything other than spin the bottle at some kids' basement party.

“Oh, trust me sweetheart,” Steve groaned, eyes clenched shut, head tipped back, “you are.”

“Show me,” you told him, voice a little pleading and Steve was going insane with it, your little hand still wrapped around him, your pretty words sounding like they came straight from his own personal wet dreams.

“Jus’ give me a minute, huh?” He whispered, voice shot as he tried his fucking hardest not to come all over your hand then and there. “You’re too pretty babe, goddamn, you’re too much.“

You flushed at the praise, body warm, eyes shining and you leaned into him, chasing his lips from where his head was resting against the back of the sofa. Your chest met his and you trapped him in your hand, pressed between both your stomachs and Steve’s fingers were tugging at your underwear, both of you panting into the kiss.

“I wanna touch you,” he groaned, impatient and needy, “wanna make you feel good too, fuck, please.”

You nodded, fast and desperate and he caught the whine that left you with his tongue, licking into your mouth a little dirtier now. You felt him twitch in your palm, and it made you throb, made you feel wild.

“I know, shit, I know,” you gasped, the pad of his thumb running over the cotton of your underwear, down the centre of you, pressing into where you were wet. “Steve, please.”

He wanted to tap your leg, tell you to be a good girl and stand up for him so he could drag the material down your legs, so he could flip up the skirt of your pretty dress and press a kiss to where he wanted to. He wondered if you tasted good everywhere, he wondered what sounds you’d made for him, if the feel of you on his tongue alone would be enough to make him fall apart.

He was pretty fucking sure it would.

But your hand was wrapping itself around him tighter now, moving down to the base of him and squeezing. He could tell your movements were still unsure, could feel it in the way you were holding yourself uptight and stiff but he moaned, an almost whimper falling from his mouth and he reached between you both with his other hand, wrapping it around your own fist.

“That’s it, baby,” he encouraged, voice soft and broken, “Atta girl, fuck.”

His hand covered yours, guiding gently as you fisted your own up and down the length of him. The only sounds were your heavy breathing, Steve’s harsh pants that he pressed into your neck, his lips pushing kisses to your throat and shoulders when he could.

He squeezed you, applying a little more pressure and you did, twisting your wrist a little as you got to his head, thumb stroking over him. His hips lifted into you and you couldn’t help but roll your own back down, meeting him halfway, both groaning with desperation.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Steve cried out, head heavy as he dropped it against your shoulder. “You’re gonna make me come.”

The boy would’ve been embarrassed if it had been anyone else, at how quickly he was falling apart from just the touch of your hand, but it was you. You were new but familiar, you felt exciting and like coming home, new places to touch and kiss, the same warm eyes looking up at him.

You felt like his.

His words had you breathless, your hand fisting over him with more confidence now, palm slick from how excited he was and you gasp ripped through you when Steve’s fingers pulled at the cotton of your underwear, dress rucked up messy at your hips so he could watch how he touched you.

He pushed the material to the side, too blissed out to ask you to stand up so he could take them off of you and you found that you didn’t care one bit. Your arms tangled between your bodies, hands moving over the other as you chased the high you were both so desperate to give.

You felt Steve’s thumb part your folds, swiping through the slick that had gathered, and he groaned, low and deep, his kiss bruising. He held the tip of his finger at your entrance, circling slowly, making you whine and gasp out, nodding your head, turning the kiss messy.

“Please, fuck, please Steve, yes,”

“Yeah?” Steve mumbled, and god, he sounded wrecked, asking you a question you didn’t know the answer to. You just nodded, forehead pressed to his cheek as held you to him, his other hand leaving yours and petting over your hair in an attempt to settle the way you were grinding over him. “S’okay, I got you.”

He slipped his finger into you, eyes gazing in awe at the way you fell apart for him, your reaction immediate. You fisted your hand around his length faster in response, a move that had him moaning, you other hand pushed at the hem of your dress, bringing the material higher across your hips and you hooked a finger around the thin material of your underwear, keeping it out of the way so Steve could slip another digit into you, thumbing at your clit and staring, wide eyed.

“Fucking hell, sweetheart, that’s it, good girl.”

His jaw went slack with your actions, bold despite your previous whispers and secrets of not knowing what to do. You were a fucking vixen on his lap, eyes desperate, lips kiss bitten and chest flushed. He watched one of the straps of your dress slip down your shoulder, taunting and teasing.

He pressed a kiss to the skin it revealed, teeth grazing the edge of your collarbone as he sped up his movements, matching the way your fist was twisting over him, up and down. He could feel your hand shifting against his lower stomach, the muscles there tensing at every pass, every brush.

Steve groaned as you tightened around him, fingers slipping in and out of with ease, thighs shaking, sighing and whimpering prettily at every pass of his thumb over your clit.

“M’close,” you stuttered, lips twisted into a pout as you tried to move a little faster, to try and get a little more of him. Steve.

But he nodded, jaw slack, gaze lustful and lazy, leaning back into the couch again to let you move the way you wanted and he let out the most sinful noise as he watched you ride his fingers, hips twisting and rocking.

Steve felt like he was in fucking fire.

But then you pulled your hand away, just for a second, just long enough for you to lick a wet strip across your fingers before you wrapped them back around him, speeding up your efforts with slick renewal.

He swore his eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he was panting, huffing out hot, quick breaths as he flicked his gaze between his fingers inside you, your small hand wrapped around him and the way you were watching him, lashes casting shadows over your cheeks, pink lips parted and pretty, sighing his name.

His free hand grabbed yours, pressing your intertwined fingers to your cheek, cupping you there so he could bring you into him, chests flushed, fingers and hands moving frantic and messy between your bodies and he kissed you as if he’d never get another chance.

Steve couldn’t remember the last time he came that hard. He felt you clench around his fingers, keening into his kiss, legs shaking, bottom lip and wobbling between his as your orgasm hit you. He held you to him, curling his fingers into you to draw out every last moan and gasp he could get, his own body twitching hot underneath you, thighs tightening, liquid heat pooling inside of him.

He came over your hand, hot and messy, your name tumbling from his lips in a low groan, voice wrecked, eyes squeezed shut. You were sure you’d have finger sized bruises on your thighs tomorrow, lilac and rose marks that would match the ones he’d left on your neck.

The room was silent apart from the way you both gasped for air, panting hard into each other, chests heaving and skin a little slick. You both shifted, you underwear snapping back into place and your dress fell back down, pretty across your thighs as Steve slipped his fingers from your carefully.

You closed your eyes at the loss of him, sparks shouting up your spine as he thumbed affectionately over the cotton, humming at how wet the material was. You steadied yourself with a hand on his bare chest, muscles twitching under your touch and before you could lose the bravery you’d gained from his hands on you, you leaned in and caught his lips with yours.

It was a slower kiss, but just as deep, lazy like the night, velvet and sweet. He caught your bottom lip with his, sucked a little, a flick of tongue and teeth as he cupped the back of your head, bringing you closer until your noses were smushed against the others cheek, lips lifting at the corners with a smile.

“I know it’s late,” he murmured, “but we should probably shower, huh?”

His hand caught yours in a way that made your worries fade; the unanswered questions could be said tomorrow, when you were both mussed from sleep, bones lazy, bodies tangled.

Steve was looking at you in a way that told you everything you needed to know.

So you nodded, scrunching your nose at your sticky hands and laughing when he did, but you let him guide you up the stairs with his hand on the small of your back, still burning heat into your skin through your dress. He handed you one of his shirts to wear after your shower, your favourite, his old basketball training shirt, that had his surname printed on the back.

And when you crawled into bed with Steve, skin still damp and smelling like his body wash, he pulled you to his side, arm around you, your head on his chest and the clock was flashing it’s red digits at you, three twenty nine am.

You heard the buzz of cicadas outside, the window open to let in what was left of the summer air, the heat from the afternoon sun still lingering in its breeze and you let it wash over you both, sheets kicked to the bottom of the mattress and limbs intertwined.

“I meant what I said, you know,” Steve whispered, his words soft and pressed into your cheek, just by your ear.

You turned to him, close enough that the tips of your noses almost brushed and you blinked at him sleepily, one hand coming up to smooth the mess of his hair away from his eyes. You urged him to continue with the brush of you lips across his jaw, your head tilted upwards to catch him in an almost kiss.

He closed his eyes at the feel of it, humming prettily at you, his hand soothing circles over your back.

“What I said in the kitchen,” he murmured, voice soft and sleepy, “that I’m yours.”

You pulled back just enough to catch his gaze when he peeked out at you from beneath his lashes. He looked nervous, like everything that happened on the living room couch was a one off, a chance taken between two friends who were fuelled by the leftover effects of cheap beer and weed.

“Don’t want any other girls.”

But you smiled at him, that wide kinda smile that made your lips hurt and your eyes shine. That dimples in your cheeks kinda smile, that heart aching, chest bursting kinda smile.

You twisted your lips to try and hide it, for why you weren’t sure, ‘cause the boy caught it, was looking back at you the same way and you nodded, suddenly coy.

“Good.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington one shot #stranger things fic #stranger things

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eggtartz · 8 months

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✧ 21th October ✧

Ran Haitani // Girth Of An Object (f! girlfriend reader)

kinktober masterlist

warnings : mentions of sex toys, baton play, penetration with baton, slight aftercare, dirty talk

you rummaged through ran's closet because twice a month, you'd agreed to have a cleaning day in the apartment. you opened up the last dusty box as ran dusted the whole place and helping throwing away the trash. "found anything, babe? some memories from the past perhaps?" his voice was muffled as he adjusted the mask over his mouth.

"there's this one box, i think it's your tenjiku stuff" you said, sweating behind your mask. "oh? oh shit, it is" you could hear the smile in his voice as he looked through it. "oh babe, look. it's me and rin! and kakucho! look, mochi's hair looks ridiculous!" he cackled.

"said someone who had braids like annabelle" you snickered as he glared. "shut up, it was cool. i miss my long hair" he ruffled his currently lilac hair. you smiled as you went through more of his things "woah ran! is this your baton? you used to use this?" ran smirked "oh babe.. you don't know my history with this baby"

he took the piece of metal, still clean and not rusty. it had a black and white stripes, a small R.H. carving on the handle. you smiled at the look of the weapon "you know what that oddly looks like?"

"what?"

"my dildo"

ran spat out his spit. "what the hell babe, you horny?" he raised his eyebrow "no! tell me it doesn't look the same" you cackled, reached over your drawer and pulled your pink dildo, the one ran bought for your anniversary. he has done a custom piece, a R.H carving on the tip. "tell me it's not the same!" you compared the objects side to side. "well, the baton has a wide girth i think. wanna test it out?"

again, it was cleaning day so you two were a sweaty mess as you ended up making out on top of each other on the couch. since the mattress is getting dried under the sun. you made small whimpers as ran nudged the head of the baton right at your pussy lips. "let's see.. we're gonna start slow alright, sweetheart? or you're too greedy for that?" he purred againts your ear. "just fuck me with it, ran" you hissed, eyes pleading.

"i knew you were such a greedy one" he chuckled, playing with your clit so you'd be stimulated enough for the metal to pierce through your walls. "that's it, take it in. imagine, it's my cock." he cooed. "you're doing so well, keep it up sweetheart" he gave slight slaps to your oversensitive clit making you writhe under him.

his baton was almost half inside you yet you felt like being split in half. the width of the baton stretched you sooo deliciously, you groaned at the lack of movement since ran's moving so slow. "hurry, ran.. need it inside me, please" you raised your hip, rolling it for any fraction. "oh shit, look at that" ran spat on your pussy "it's so pretty, stuffed and wet" he cooed, one hand caressing your inner thighs. your cunt gushed around the foreign object when ran finally picked up his pace, using the baton to thrust inside.

"ah! oh, it's so much better than the dildo!" you smiled drunkenly as ran smirked "does it now? what a freaky sweet thing you are" he caressed your clit, flicking it softly and gently. he often spat on your pussy to make sure it's lubricated enough despite not needing so since your slick is coating the baton very well.

"ran! oh, i can feel it.." you moaned with a high pitched voice "feel it where? in your tummy? your insides?" he bought himself down to have one tit in his mouth, flicking your nipple with his tongue. you grabbed his hair, as you felt a wave of intense stimulation coming. your pussy convulsed as you came undone, thighs shaking with pleasure. "there we go. you did good" he mumbled, taking your other tit while soothing your clit in circles, taking out the baton slowly from your pussy.

he bought the baton to your mouth as you licked it, tasting yourself as you traced your tongue to clean up your own mess. "there we go, still think this one is better than the dildo?" he raised his eyebrow. "yeah.. much better than the dildo" you smiled.

"but it can't beat this one, can it?" he patted his crotch, a bulge already apparent behind his sweatpants. "oh no, this one is the best" you purred, slowly rubbing him. it's safe to say that on the cleaning day, you two did nothing done.

#tokyo revengers #tokrev #tokyo rev x y/n #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x yn #tokyo revengers smut #ran haitani #ran x reader #ran imagines #ran smut #ran haitani x reader #ran haitani smut #ran haitani imagines #kinktober entry ♡˖

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starshinerart · 4 months

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Some of my Random LMK Headcanons

• Wukong is ambidextrous.

• Pigsy sings like Teddy Swims.

• Mei is a fan of Freedom Planet and she can't decide whether she likes Lilac or Carol more.

• Because he's immortal, Wukong doesn't need to eat or sleep, but still does because he enjoys it. Similar to Amethyst from Steven Universe.

• MK was born during the year of the Monkey.

• MK and Mr. Tang have gone to a few Monkey King conventions in the past and would cosplay as Wukong and the Monk respectively.

• Mei can't sing. She can dance though.

• Wukong CAN sing and dance, but because of his severe stage fright, you never get to hear him. He'll sing privately though (i.e. in the shower).

• MK and Mei are both fans of Sonic The Hedgehog. MK has even gotten Wukong into the series. Now Wukong will sometimes call Macaque "Shadow the Hedgemonkey".

• Macaque's got the abs, but Wukong's got the pecs!

• Sandy has a blog dedicated to Mo.

• Red Son will sometimes just casually snack on some ghost peppers. He also hates ice cream.

• During the Brotherhood, Azure and DBK would sometimes have arm wrestling competitions.

• Wukong and Macaque are both fluent in Mandarin, English, and various other languages that LMK has been dubbed in. However, Wukong still has trouble with spelling.

• Wukong's favorite Disney movie is actually Aladdin, not Mulan (though Mulan is a close second). He loves Abu, can relate to both Aladdin and the Genie in different ways, and even mentions to others that in the original version of the story, Aladdin was Chinese.

• Though they both like Traditional Chinese music, when it comes to modern music, Wukong and Macaque both think that the other monkey's music taste is garbage. Despite that however, the one song that they can agree on liking is "Dance Monkey".

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angronsjewelbeetle · 1 month

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Another one because fuck it it's nearly midnight and these are FUN DAMMIT Lmao floriography interest coming in clutch here

What kind of flowers do (some of) the primarchs gift you ~♡

Includes: Corvus, Magnus, Vulkan, Fulgrim, Jaghatai, Angron, Konrad, Ferrus, Lorgar, Sanguinius, Dorn

Corvus: dark red roses and gloxina. dark red roses symbolise loyalty, love and eternal beauty, and gloxina represents love at first sight.

Magnus: rainbow roses, and glowing primroses. Roses because they're romantic and they're rainbow because "Magnus how did you-" "-I have my ways, my dear. Do you like them?", and primroses symbolise youthful love, a representation of how he feels a little more young when he's with you. How are the primroses glowing. Magnus please tell me they aren't deadly. Please.

Vulkan: pink roses and violets, they're a little singed on some of the petals and stems, but they're still pretty. Pink roses because they symbolise both romantic love and platonic - you are both his best friend and his greatest treasure - the light of his heart, and also sweetness. Violets symbolise faithfulness. Enough said.

Fulgrim: Hibiscus and morning glory. Morning glory symbolise affection and determination and the hibiscus, beauty and happiness - your beauty brings him such a profound sense of happiness, he doesn't know what to do with himself.

Ferrus: White roses and hydrangeas. White roses symbolise new beginnings and wisdom, and hydrangeas thankfulness and understanding.

Lorgar: lilies, phlox and gladiola. Lilies symbolise majesty and virtue, phlox unanmity and harmony. Also I'm pretty sure they're both toxic, and yet, they're beautiful. Gladiolus symbolise strength of character and moral integrity.

Konrad: a handful of Venice mallows with some of the roots still on and a single tuberose with...a...bite? Taken out of it? Venice mallows symbolise delicate, fleeting beauty, and tuberose symbolise dangerous pleasure. Konrad thought the mallows were pretty. The tuberose smelt nice. That's why Konrad ate it. It didn't taste as good as it smelt. Sorry, Konrad.

Khan: hyacinth and peonies. Hyacinths symbolise playfulness and peonies prosperity and compassion.

Sanguinius: bellflowers, sweet Williams and pansies. Bellflowers symbolise gratitude, sweet Williams symbolise gallantry and ask to "grant me a single smile", and pansies symbolise sweet thoughts.

Rogal: amaryllis, asters and false indigo. Amaryllis symbolise determination and creative achievement, asters symbolise elegance and patience - he will wait for you. He will always wait for you. - and false indigo symbolise immersion and intuition. He loves you. He truly does.

Angron: daffodils and lilacs, the stems are crushed, but the flowers themselves are unharmed. You do have to pry them from his hand though. Lilacs symbolise the first emotions of love and daffodils symbolise rebirth and new beginnings. They won't last that long with the mutilated stems, but they're lovely while they do.

#warhammer 40k #wh40k #warhammer x reader #primarch x reader #warhammer headcanon #i fuckin LOVE FLOWRRS WOO #but god am i tired imma go ti sleep now #konrad honey baby sweetiepie dont eat that

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decembermidnight · 10 months

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Cherry Liqueur

Summary: You tease Mando in public, drawing too much attention. He reminds you and everyone else who you belong to.

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: this is pure smut 18+ mdni, no plot - straight to the point, teasing in public, helmet stays on (sort of), oral (f receiving), female edging, semi-public sex, unprotected sex (p in v), possessive!din, dom!din, cumplay, degradation kink... the list goes on

A/N: this is the first time I'm publishing!! So excited for this. This whole thing was inspired by a perfume. Of course I bought it. Also, keep in mind that English is not my first language! Have as much fun reading it as I did writing it!

Masterlist - Read on Ao3

It's the twilight of a hot summer night on some unknown planet in the outer rim, the suns still setting at the horizon are painting the sky with gorgeous shades of dark orange, lilac and blue. The cantina you’re sitting in is slowly getting crowded and is dimly lit by blue, purple and green lights.

The vanilla ice cream you are savoring is slowly melting in the glass cup in front of you and it’s so sweet and cold, you moan in pleasure and close your eyes when you bring the teaspoon into your mouth.

He is sitting in front of you and watches with his arms crossed, silent and unbothered, as always. The lights of the cantina gorgeously reflect on his shiny beskar armor.

"Mando, why don't you get some? It's so good." you tease him, your voice sounding so seductive.

He doesn't reply, but won’t take his eyes off you. You can’t see them, but you can feel them scouting your body.

The cherry liqueur you ordered to go with your dessert is thick and sugary, a slight burn in your throat. It makes you brave.

"I want you to kiss my lips and taste how good this is." you whisper to him, glass in your hand, licking your lips.

"I can't, pretty girl." his voice is firm, and you take that as a challenge. He will taste cherry liqueur from your lips tonight.

You eat the ice cream slowly, not breaking eye contact with the beskar helmet in front of you. You lean on the table on purpose, letting him enjoy the view of your cleavage squeezed in the tight black dress you are wearing, licking the spoon sensually every time, putting on a show for his enjoyment. You know he's watching and loving every single second of it.

You drink your sweet cherry liqueur, intentionally letting one drop spill over your mouth, only to collect it with your finger and spread it all over your plump lips, and only when they’re coated, you bring the fingertip into your mouth to lick it clean. You know how much he loves your lips, especially when they're wrapped around his thick cock.

He watches still, leaning back against the booth where he’s sitting, arms crossed, chest moving regularly, not a sign of distress coming for him, apparently. You love teasing him like this in public. You know he's definitely rock hard under the table, and the thought of it turns you on so much, you can feel you’re already dripping between your legs.

When you are done with your show, you go to the restroom with the excuse to wash your hands and face. You do not realize until you stand up how much the liquor hit you. You're not drunk, just a bit dizzy, but it boosts your confidence, makes you feel like a bombshell and can feel his eyes glued to your hips that are swaying sensually, hugged by the light fabric of the revealing dress you are wearing, subtly inviting him to follow you, hoping he'd understand.

When you hear the door opening behind you, you turn around happily, thinking it's him.

It isn't. It’s an ugly mug who clearly does not know who you belong to, a grin on his face.

He tries to approach you blurting obscenities, but he can't even finish the phrase, the door behind him opens, and Mando enters.

"Is there a problem here?" The cold, intimidating tone of his masculine voice makes your pussy clench. Fuck - you love how badass and protective he is.

The creep grins at you, pissed off at the interruption, and turns around, only to find a fully armored Mandalorian staring at him, his hand on the blaster at his belt, ready to fire. He is always ready. So swift and scary.

"No" he answers, raising his hands "I was just leaving." the other man replies, immediately leaving the room, intimidated by the bounty hunter who just entered.

Can’t explain enough how much you love when he acts possessive towards you. He loves when you wear seductive and revealing clothes around him for everyone to see how hot you are, but when random men even just try to interact with you, he’s quick to assert his dominance and defend his property. You fucking belong to him.

The second the door closes behind him, Mando leans with his arm against the wall behind you, towering you. It’s intimidating and turns you on so much. You sigh in arousal and wrap your arms around his neck.

You feel his erection, rock hard against your lower belly.

'Mando..." You call him in an inviting tone.

"You're such a nasty girl. Teasing me in public in front of everyone. Making me hard." he whispers as he cups your cheek with his other hand. "What do I have to do with you?"

"Kiss me." You say, alcohol suddenly makes you brave. "Here. Now." you challenge him.

He clenches the hand he’s leaning on in a fist, staying still for a few seconds as you look at him, your eyes filled with desire. The music coming from outside fills the silence between you two.

"Close your eyes." he says firmly.

You obey, as you always do when he gives you orders.

He takes his gloves off and tosses them on the sink on his left, then he covers your eyes with one hand. You hear a hiss of air, and then you feel warm lips on yours. A slow, soft kiss that makes your knees weak, your head light and the air escape your lungs, leaving you breathless. You part your lips in a sigh of arousal and he pushes his tongue inside your mouth, tasting you just like you wanted. You let out a moan, he swallows it greedily and bites your lower lip, chuckling.

Your mouth tastes like cherry, vanilla and sin, he wants to taste it all, your lips tickled by his mustache. His other hand is wrapping around your neck, lightly choking you. The Mandalorian is dangerously bending the rules of his creed just to taste you, giving in to lust and desire. What adds even more to the excitement of it, is that he’s doing this in a public place, where anyone could enter at any moment and see him.

For a man who never removes his helmet, his kisses are to die for. Your hands travel to his jawline, masculine and well-defined, covered in a scruffy beard. His skin is so hot to the touch, his heart is racing, you can feel it with your fingers while running them on his neck. He lifted his helmet just enough to kiss you and you can't look at him, but you can feel him. That is more than enough. The more you kiss, the more you want to keep going. You can't stop kissing and moaning into each other's mouth. His body is pressed heavily on yours.

The door opens behind Mando, but he is quick to shut it with a back kick, never leaving your lips, on the contrary, kissing you even harder because he’s getting even more turned on, knowing that someone tried to enter, and keeping his foot on the door to prevent other incidents. His reflex is always so ready, always so alert. Curses from the outside, he won't let anyone in, not now that he is finally giving in and kissing you. It makes you so happy to know that you have him all to yourself.

He bites your lower lip. "You taste so good" growls between his teeth. Every time you hear his real voice, not distorted by a modulator, you get goosebumps. "So fucking good. My pretty girl." His voice is hot and dark, masculine and firm.

You giggle in his mouth and keep kissing him, wrapping one leg around his body, letting him rock his hips against yours and hump against your soaking wet entrance, and groaning in his mouth. He bites your lip grinning, hungry like a starving beast, knowing that you're already so wet and turned on just because of the kisses he's giving you.

You feel the dry humping will make you cum within seconds if it doesn't stop. When you are so close you could feel your heart racing and your face blushing, he suddenly stops and lowers his helmet back on. You whimper as you stop feeling his body on yours and his hand removed from your eyes. When he does, you see the beskar helmet looking at you, towering you as before. Mando then goes on his knees, slowly, you don't take your eyes off each other, he runs his hot hands on your thighs, under your dress, on your hips softly, making you sigh, his gentle touch is making you shudder. He grabs your soaked panties and takes them off, slowly, never interrupting eye contact. You take out one leg, then the other. He spreads your legs with his arms and looks at your swollen, throbbing, needy cunt.

"Mmm - so beautiful" he says, running one finger between your folds and pushing his middle finger inside your entrance, making you arch your back, squeeze your eyes shut and moan loudly. He starts fingering you slowly, but he is quick to speed up the pace.

Your panting and the wet, lewd noises your pussy makes as he fucks you with his finger fill the tiny room, and you're pretty sure people can hear from outside. He takes his finger out, followed by the hissing sound of him lifting his helmet, and then you feel a warm and wet tongue on your clit, making you gasp and groan deeply and way too loud. Everyone out there’s gonna know that the Mandalorian is making you feel so good. You feel so shameless, and you fucking love it.

"F-fuck!" you scream loudly as the Mandalorian grips your thighs and sinks into them with his mouth. You cover your mouth with your hands as he tastes how much you want him, humming in pleasure, the vibrations coming from his throat making your eyes roll over your head in pure ecstasy.

The way he eats you, as if he could never have enough, and keeps doing that for as long as he wants, tasting your sweet juices, taking all the time in the galaxy to reduce you to a whimpering, trembling mess, drives you fucking crazy.

You get so close to your orgasm already, your head gets dizzy, and when you're just there, he suddenly stops licking your clit. The sensation of the pre-orgasm rush leaving your body makes your legs shake in frustration and you desperately rock your hips looking for his mouth, but his iron grip on your thighs prevents you from moving one inch.

“Uh-uh. Not so fast” he whispers. You can feel his hot breath on your clit, just holding there as you tremble desperately.

And then, after a few seconds that seem to last like an eternity, he starts circling around your clit with his tongue, extremely slowly, carefully avoiding it, teasing you. When he feels that your body is calming down, he starts licking your clit once again, and then, when he feels you're getting closer, he fucking stops again, edging you once more. He kisses and bites your inner thigh, completely drenched in your arousal, and laughs sadistically at how much your body is begging for him.

He does that multiple times as a vengeance for teasing him so shamelessly in public. You are on the verge of tears, and your whole body is shaking, especially your legs, but his grip is so firm that it keeps you still and open wide over his mouth at his mercy.

"Please-please-please" you whimper desperately.

"What?" He asks in between slow, light licks around your clit.

"Please Mando make me cum" you cry out.

He does not answer. Only a single, swift lick on your swollen clit that makes your whole body jerk under his touch.

"Please, Mando! I'm begging you!" You sound so pathetic, he loves it. You hear a chuckle as he circles around your clit once again, then his middle finger is back inside your hot entrance, fucking you. Your pussy is so embarrassingly wet, you can feel your juices dripping down your inner thighs.

“You can only cum when I tell you so.” he says in between licks to your clit, the light touch of his lips making you shiver and sigh.

“P-please I c-can’t-” you try to articulate desperately.

“Hold it there.” he just doesn’t care how much you whimper. On the contrary, whimpering will only make this edging torture last longer.

He can hear your panting getting more and more out of control by the second.

“Yeah - hold it there” he loves having all this power on you.

You let out a deep sigh, trying to control the way your body reacts to his, but it’s impossible. You can’t focus on anything else apart from holding in your orgasm but you’re not sure how much further you can resist.

"Yeah mesh'la - cum. Cum for me." you can feel his hot breath against your pussy, and then his tongue is finally back on your clit, there to stay.

He pushes another finger inside and once again you feel the hot sensation of the orgasm building in your pussy, this time begging that he won’t stop.

"F-fuck Mando I-I’m-"

He purrs into your pussy and you finally cum into his mouth, your muscles desperately clenching around his fingers, your hands cover your mouth and muffle the screams of your orgasm, eyes so rolled back over your head, all you can see is pitch black darkness, you’re completely blown away by those few seconds of pure bliss.

By the time you are done, you are completely drained by pleasure and your head is spinning. He is licking dripping juices from your inner thighs, then he bites your soft flesh, humming, knowing he'll leave bruises only he'll be able to see, and finally he stands back up on his feet.

"Open your mouth" he says, you obey. You're still shaking and panting from how mind-blowing that was.

He sticks his two fingers coated in your arousal in your mouth and you sensually wrap them around your lips, pushing them deep in your throat.

"Yeah - like this" he says grinning satisfied as he watches you lick his fingers clean from tips to knuckle, his erection against your belly. He takes his fingers out and grabs your jaw, forcing your mouth open, and then he spits inside of it. You fucking love it, moaning at the feeling of being dominated that way, and swallow his saliva greedily. He slaps your face and chuckles. "What an obedient little slut." says, whispering in your ear, and then his tongue is again inside your mouth.

You can feel his mustache, lips and chin are wet from your arousal, his mouth now tastes like you, a warm and slightly salty taste that you don't mind. "Fuck. My pretty girl. Can’t ever get enough of you."

He kisses you for so long, taking all the time in the galaxy to make you feel like the most worshiped woman of the outer rim, cupping your face with his hands, caressing your cheeks, holding you tight and running his hands all over your body, wanting to feel every inch of you.

He lowers the helmet back on his face, then turns you around and bends you over the sink, in front of the mirror.

“Open your eyes” he orders.

"Fuck" you whisper biting your lip, looking at how he towers over you, gripping your hips, feeling his rock hard erection grinding against your ass as his hips rock into yours.

He takes out his cock and starts sliding it between your folds and you can see fucking everything. You shake in anticipation and gasp. When he slowly inserts his dick inside of your needy, wet cunt you both moan shamelessly loud, not caring that anyone can hear you from outside, and when he starts thrusting into you, you go out of control and can't control how loud you're screaming.

"Quiet. Quiet, pretty girl." He puts one hand on your mouth, panting in your ear.

Your muffled screams seem to excite him even more. He is having fun sliding it in and out of you, painfully slow and groaning in your ear to drive you fucking crazy. He knows how much you love hearing him enjoying himself. The sound your dripping pussy makes when it takes it all in, greedily, desperately clenching around his thick cock, fills the room together with his hips rocking against your ass.

Having you bent like that, in front of the freshener's mirror, your leg on the sink, forced to look at the mess of you, blushing and sweaty, one of his hands on your thigh, the other one on your mouth, begging for the dick of that fully armored bounty hunter that terrified everyone out there, towering over you, turns you on so much and can’t take your eyes off the mirror.

The banging on the door outside, the thought of someone wanting to enter, but it's blocked from Mando's foot planted firmly on the ground against it, knowing there's only a thin door separating your throbbing, needy cunt from the outside, all of those men looking at you earlier, hearing your screams and wishing they were the ones locked inside the bathroom with you, fucking you raw and dirty like the filthy whore that you are, but it's only the Mandalorian that you want, that can make you scream like this.

For a second he lifts his hand from your mouth, wanting to hear your voice.

"M-my - fuck - Mandalorian warrior, fucking me so good."

"Yeah?" You clench around him just by hearing his voice, his hand back on your mouth to muffle how much you are loving being fucked that way.

You take his hand and slide it towards your clit, but he slaps it away. You are so desperate, you want - no, you need - to cum again and start rubbing your clit with your own hand, only for him to take your hand away and cause you to whimper on the verge of tears for stimulation.

"Beg me." He orders, lifting his hand from your mouth so that he can hear you.

"P-please Mando make me cum, please, please" you whimper desperately.

He grins and achingly slowly moves his hand towards your slit, widening your pussy and starting to draw circles around your swollen clit with his middle finger, purposefully avoiding it to tease you.

It makes you shake and whimper desperately. Then he takes the soaked finger and puts it into your mouth.

"Yes, lick it all. Taste how much you want me."

You do, moaning and sucking and licking his finger clean. "Good girl." He slaps your face, then grabs your chin and forces you to lock your very same gaze in the mirror.

"I want you to look. Look at yourself when I make you cum."

His hand reaches your clit, starts rubbing it and you can't avoid arching your back and rolling your eyes in pleasure and letting out a deep moan.

He stops thrusting and massaging you, the hand holding your jaw grips tighter. "Hey. I told you to look." Then slaps you on the clit, making your body jerk and clench around him, making him gasp.

He starts thrusting and rubbing your clit again immediately after scolding you.

"When we're done, I - fuck - don't want you to put your panties back on. I want you to walk with my cum dripping down your legs. Everyone out there has to know that you're fucking mine." He growls between his teeth, his voice raspy through the modulator. That sentence takes you over the edge and you cum so hard, screaming with your mouth closed by his hand, gaze locked on yourself as he commanded. The muffled screaming is so loud, it fills the little room.

"Cyar'ika" he growls as soon as he feels your cunt rhythmically clenching around him. "Do you see how fucking beautiful you are when you cum for me? F-fuck I-I-" he muffles his scream gritting between his teeth as he cums, his cock is pulsing, his seed is spilling hot inside of you, but he keeps riding through both of your orgasms.

He leans on you, panting and holding you tight, his dick still throbbing into your pussy. When he takes it out, you feel his seed slowly dripping from your inner thighs.

"Turn around." He orders, still panting.

You do, and he sits you on the sink and spreads your legs open.

"Fuck. So beautiful." He is mesmerized by the sight of your pussy filled by him, still clenching in waves of aftershock. He runs his fingers on your inner thighs to collect all the drops of seed that escaped and pushes them back into your opening. He has some fun with it, you can tell he is grinning under the helmet, then he brings his fingers to your mouth and you obediently suck them clean, tasting the lust of you both.

When you get out of the bathroom, you feel everyone's eyes on you two. You've never done anything so shameless and nasty in your life, and you fucking loved it. Every second of it.

You walk towards the exit, Mando behind you, his hand wrapped around your hip. You feel his cum dripping down your legs and you wonder if the people looking at you are noticing. Mando's words echo in your head. Everyone out there has to know that you're fucking mine. He definitely made sure of that. You can’t help smiling.

#the mandalorian #mandalorian x you #mandalorian x female reader #mando x reader #mando x you #mandalorian smut #din djarin #din djarin x you #din djarin x female reader #mando smut #mandalorian fanfic #din djarin smut #this is my first fanfic #din x reader #decembermidnight

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lolasimms · 1 year

Note

how do you think abbu would react to being invited to lilas tea party?

Tea parties and mockery

Summary: Abby has a tea party with Lila and Levi, and it ends with her getting taunted by her 4 year old daughter. Reader is away on a work trip.

“Momma, are you going to make us some tea?" Lila comes in the room wearing one of your coats. She says it makes her look classy. The black fabric is hanging to the floor like a dress, but the 4 year old doesn't seem to care.

You were away on a work trip, meaning Abby was at home with the babies for the weekend. She’d left the kids with her dad in the morning and then dropped you off at the airport. After lots of hugs and kisses she’d left you at the front and then made her way back to her dads to get the kids. Levi was taking your absence well but Lila on the other hand was fuming, since you’d promised her a tea party earlier in the week. So here she was, getting the tea party in order for her grumpy daughter and agreeable son.

"Yes, give me a minute, honey." She makes her way into the bathroom, where a newly potty trained Levi is done. He stands up and claps, once he spots his mother. "Good job honey, now let's wash that stinky behind." She calls out, pulling the toddler off the potty.

"Eww, put on your pants Levi," Lila says as she watches her half-naked brother get cleaned up.

Abby finishes cleaning Levi and then proceeds to carry both kids down the stairs to get a start on the tea. It was an expensive lilac tea that Lila had insisted Abby buy for her since it was the plant she was named after. If she was being honest, Abby thought the tea tasted like the smell of air freshener, but she’d do anything Lila wanted. Even if it meant spending $30 at an organic tea shop.

Lila plays with Levi in the living room while Abby prepares the tea. She was told by the vendor at the store that lilac was good for relaxing and digestion. She only hoped that was true, so she could calm the two gremlins down, enough to get them to sleep at-least. She throws the overpriced tea bag into the pot and then pours in the boiled water, she doesn’t add any sugar though. She always tells Lila that real adults don't put sweeteners or sugar in their tea. It's a lie, but she’s not willing to deal with the aftermath of a 4 and 1 year old on a sugar rush.

"Alright kiddos, tea is ready."

"Yaa! Levi the tea is ready.” Lila shouts, attempting to lift up her brother but fails miserably, immediately she sets him back down. Levi loves every minute of it, just looking up in excitement at his big sister. "Okay, momma, you have to carry us." Abby looks at the hot teapot she’s holding and then back to her two kids.

"I can only carry Levi, cause I'm holding your teapot." She explains to Lila.

"Hmmpph." She pouts and crosses her arms across her chest. Abby knows she doesn't stand a chance. She either does what Lila wants, or she'll have a full-blown tantrum.

"Fine, hop on, mommas back." She squats down so Lila can hop on, and she does so happily.

Abby then scoops up Levi with the arm that is not holding the teapot. And by some miracle she manages to get them both upstairs with no falls or third degree burns. If you had been home to witness this, Abby Anderson would have been a dead woman.

Lila serves Abby and Levi the tea. As they’re all sat around a fancy tea table and matching chairs that her grandpa Jerry had gotten her for her birthday. Abby’s bulky figure cant fit in the chair, or else she’d break it. So instead she opts to sit on the floor. Lila’s teapots are white with purple embellishments coated on them, alone with matching cups.

"Momma, don't forget to hold out your pinky."

"Oh yes, baby, I apologise." She points her pinky outward as she takes a sip from the cup.

Levi is quiet as he patiently waits for Lila’s instructions, to tell him what to do. He is so enamored by her, and Abby loves the close knit bond the two of them already have.

"Okay, so momma how was your day?"

"It was nice."

"What did you do?"

"I dropped mommy off to the airport and then spent the day with you two.”

“Is mommy your girlfriend?”

“She’s my wife, and how do you know what that is?”

“Do you and mommy kiss?” Abby’s eyes go wide and she immediately turns red.

Lila starts to jump around the room, hysterically laughing and Levi runs after her laughing as well, copying his sister's actions.

"Momma, kisses mommy" Lila begins to chant, over and over again. Trying to get under Abby’s skin.

“Alright we’re never having another tea party again.” Abby playfully yells over the chanting.

"Momma kisses mommy!!” Lila continues running around her room and screaming. Levi doing the same, and Abby is just perched on the floor, smiling in amazement that she’d be stuck with these two gremlins for the rest of her life. She loved it.

—

abby

can you please come home now???

y/n

what’s wrong love, the babies okay?

abby

your daughter made fun of me because I kiss you

y/n

you poor thing, is our 4 year old giving you a hard time?

abby

yeah :/

y/n

want me to ground her when I get back?

abby

would you actually?

y/n

if she’s bullying my wife then I’ve gotta teach her a lesson :)

#abby anderson x you #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson x female reader #wife abby anderson

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ss-skyearn · 1 year

Text

Sugar Rush

PAIRINGS : Choi Yeonjun x fem!reader

WORD COUNT : 7.8k

GENRE : Angst, Smut, Fluff

WARNINGS/CONTENT : Fantasy au, multiple pov (yeonjun+reader), profanity (mild cursing), yearning, mutual pining (?), any more warnings and the storyline will be spoiled; it'll unravel as you go along. ♡

A/N : First time writing for TXT, so I guess this is my debut into moablr. Happy late Valentine's, lovelies. ♡

Just why are you the manifestation of temptation? Why does he desire you so? When he's never had you before…

Or has he?

Plush.

That's the only way you can describe this. This sensation.

Euphoria.

That's the only word for you to chronicle this. This feeling.

Elation of the unadulterated kind.

Ecstasy of the bonafide variety.

It's a feeling of fullness, of satisfaction, of gratification.

And all of that accomplished, merely by his presence. You can feel it. The heavy exhale of breathe right at the shell of your ear, the slow drag of his fingers along your curves, explorative, accustomed. Like he's done it a million times prior, like he's never done it before. Unlearning. Mastering.

"Play with me, sugar." A sultry whisper, a request, a promise.

It sends a tingle down your spine, back arching, body aching for more. Yet you force your eyes open, trying to make sense of anything that's not him. Given your state, it's not so easy a task.

Yet as your vision clears, you make out a black and amber sweater, the zipper down as far as it'll go, a plane of smooth skin on display. Looking over his shoulder, all you see is a whirlpool of colours. All kinds, vibrant persimmons, holographic blues, iridescent lilac, swirling and blending, converging together somewhere behind him.

It's hypnotic, looking at the whirlwind of hues, but even moreso, his voice.

"You're addictive." Silky smooth, dripping honey.

You zoom in your eyes on him, trying to recognize his features, his eyes, anything really, to know who he is. But all you see is blur, a pixelated mosaic at best.

You can make out everything in perfect clarity, everything except his face. The expanse of pigmented background, the countless variegated butterflies flying about.

Your eyes land on a magenta one, and it flies its way to come rest right on the convex bulge of his clavicle. But just as it makes contact with his creamy skin, it promptly disintegrates, disappearing with a puff, dusting his collars with even more sparkles.

You don't know where it comes from, this urge to lean forward and lick the glitter studs off his skin, but you make good on that impulse nonetheless, slowly dragging your tongue over his collar bone, savouring the taste of him.

He hums out in satisfaction, slender fingers tangling in your hair, not trying to move you around, just holding, feeling.

"Just like that."

You moan against his skin, trying to make out what he tastes like. You've had it before, this flavour of lust. Your tastebuds tell you as much. But you can't remember where.

Where have you tasted this before?

What is this taste, this flavour?

You move to his other beauty bone, and just as you know you're close to finding out what it is, you're shaken awake by a cool tinge on your neck.

Your eyes slowly fan open, and it takes a moment for you to blink through the tears staining your cheeks.

When had you started crying?

What the hell was that dream?

More importantly, where the fuck are you?

Suddenly wide awake, you snap your head around, looking at your surroundings. Grass and greenery abound, you're positively lost.

You remember being on the cruise a while back, but the vast stretch of water in front of you certainly doesn't look like the lido deck you were soaking in mere moments ago.

Were you thrown off the ship or something? As crazy as it sounds, that's the only possible explanation you can think of. But one body scan later, you conclude that couldn't have been the case. You see no surface injury, no indication of anything painful going down. You try standing up, expecting to at least wince a little after having been laying down on the sand in an uncomfortable position.

But nothing. Nothing at all.

One more full body scan and you find traces of dried up blood on your calves, still no sign of any wound.

Is this someone else's blood? But there's no living thing in sight for as far as you can see.

All you see is the vast ocean and the sand, extending as far as your line of sight goes, a row of bushes separating this piece of land from what lies beyond.

There's something eerily nostalgic about this place. It's evident in the way you know the trees are mulberry even before you catch the sweet waft of the ripe berries in the air that breezes past you, in the way you're sure the chameleon resting on the rock near the water will change colour once you touch it.

Intuition has always proven to be on your side, yet for the first time, you find reason to doubt it. So you take the few steps towards the reptile, extending your palm slowly so as to not scare it away. It hops on to your awaiting hand all too eagerly, much to your pleasant surprise. And true to form, the simplest of touches turns the dusky beige of its scaled skin to a wine shade of purple in a matter of seconds.

Your intuition was right.

But you feel no better, feel no sense of security at having confirmed the reliability of your sixth sense. Quite on the contrary, it's unsettling.

You know this place, have been here sometime ago, that's for sure, but have no recollection of it. Indeed, the sea is something you avoid being in the vicinity of at all costs, the water never failing to instil a sense of dread deep within you. It had taken a lot of cajoling- and bribery- on Taylor's part to even get you on the cruise, under the disguise of emotional blackmail.

"It's my Bachelorette."

"Can't you do this much for me?"

"You know it's been my dream since Love Island."

"Just don't go out on the deck and you won't even know you're on water, it'll be like living in a resort."

Endless arguments made, it was only a matter of time before you caved, the joyous squeal she let out more than worth the trouble you knew you would face when the time finally came to climb aboard. A small price to pay for her happiness, you thought back then. If only you knew how it would come back to bite you in the ass.

After pondering over it for a long while, you decide to see it for yourself, just what is it past the shrubs, what is this magnetic pull you're being dealt with.

Curiosity killed the cat, sure, but standing here, near the water in the mid winter freeze isn't doing you any favours, either.

So you move, seeking the gravity of the tug you're experiencing, like the sailor edges nearer to a siren, even with the smell of his demise prominent from kilometres away.

Only, it's not so much a demise that you're smelling. It's something entirely different.

Something mysterious. Something dangerous. Something delicious.

Something you're willing to risk it all for.

Sweet.

That's the only way he can describe this. This taste.

Arousing.

That's the only word for him to chronicle this. This sensation.

Titillating in every sense of the word.

Galvanising in a way he hasn't known before.

It's a sense of security, of safety, of reprieve.

And all of that accomplished, by your mere existence. He can feel your legs trapping his waist, body pressed against his. You slowly drag the zip on his sweater down, eyes fixated on every tract of skin you uncover.

"Come a little closer." Your voice is sweet, much like everything else about you.

His body moves before his mind does, coming impossibly close, the water sloshing about around the two of you.

"Let me help you now." Anaesthetic, that's what your voice is to him.

"Mm?"

You huff out a laugh, clearly knowing the effect you have on him, the power you hold.

Even if you didn't know, he'd never fail to let you know of it himself. How you have him wrapped around your finger, all yours to have.

He doesn't know why he feels the way he does. For all he knows, is that you're a haze. It's not that you're not real, far from it. He can feel your presence in every single one of his neurons, your touch setting his skin on fire, your breath claiming the attention of every one of his muscles.

But even so, he can't see your face, no matter how he squints, wills his head to stop spinning with want.

Your laugh is what breaks him from his reverie, and he gives up trying to figure out just who you are. For now.

"You just made me feel good, didn't you? My turn now."

As if on cue, his taste buds pulsate and almost suddenly, his mouth is filled with a sweetness he tasted moments prior. A sweetness he's never had before, but simultaneously experienced all the time.

He swirls his tongue around, trying to make sense of this absurd taste.

What is it?

Seemingly having noticed what he's upto, you break out into yet another laugh,

"It's okay, darling. You'll get more of me."

His face blooms red, shyness washing over him at having been caught tasting the remnants of you in his mouth. He lets out a squeak, burying his face in the crook of your neck, arms tightening around you.

You chuckle, "Now now," lacing your fingers with his and giving a squeeze. Your way of letting him know it's okay, that he doesn't need to hide, doesn't have reason to fret. He's safe with you. Secure. Free to be vulnerable, to let his boundaries down.

How he knows all of that from a simple squeeze of his hand, he doesn't know. The same way he doesn't know who you are, and why he trusts you with his life.

All he knows is that he does.

And that he doesn't question it. Not when it feels so right.

A sharp pang of gut wrenching pain that he knows all too well is what jolts him awake, stirs him from yet another one of his dreams. Of visions of a being so beautiful, he's never known the likes of. Of a flavour so sweet, he'd die- time and again- for a taste.

He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to calm down the thumping of his heart, the one he can hear all the way up to his ears.

That's when he feels the streams marked on his cheeks, down all the way to his neck.

This is a first.

He's dreamt of her before. He's tasted her in his dreams before.

But never has he cried like this. Never has his heart ached this much.

He swears he was able to taste it this time. This time, he promised himself that he'll remember it. But just like all the other times, it fizzled from his palate the moment he woke up.

It's frustrating, to say the least. He feels denied, deprived of what he deserves.

Soobin won't shut up about craving his lemon sherbet all day. Taehyun won't stop raving about how it's the best sorbet he's ever had the pleasure of tasting.

Beomgyu, Huening; they've all had their share of flavour a billion times over by now.

So why? Why is it that he's the only one that's left behind?

Why is it only him that doesn't know what his person tastes like?

"Good things take time." Is what Mrs. Yeon says. What she's been saying for years now.

But what does she know? Sure, she might be the community elder, the one to have the most wisdom when it comes to anything of the matter. But she's not the one yearning for someone who never comes, wishing upon every fallen star for someone who never shows up, aching for a taste that's not found in anything he tries.

And God, has he tried. The flavour lingers for a little while every time he wakes up, before it disappears from his memory. He's tried committing it to memory, finding it in anything and everything.

Perennials. Botanicals. Herbs. Drugs.

Grapevine is the only thing that comes the closest, but that's honestly downplaying it. It's near insulting to call her taste similar to a mere grapevine but it's a beginning, he supposes.

He almost fell face first into a chronic one-way paralysis trying to make up a concoction by infusing fernflowers with grapevine in an attempt to replicate her flavour.

He's been banned from the Aesculapian Estate ever since, barred from anything relating even remotely to phytomedicine.

But really, is he one to be blamed? He's desperate, rightfully so. Needy in a way he's never been.

Natives call him crazy, fixated, but at the end of the day, they aren't the ones wanting something they can't have. Wanting something they deserve, something their mothers' bedtime stories promised they'd have, something the community elders never failed to mention they would be rewarded with when the time comes.

It's unfair.

It's been years since he came of age. Years since he's been denied his mate. Years and years since he's been seeing everyone around him being paired up and skipping along merrily.

So, why him?

As he lies there, nestled among the outstretched net of tangled roots emerging from the trunk of the Bristlecone Pine tree, he feels it.

Again.

Reluctantly, he gets up and runs to the nearby pond. Aligning himself into the familiar position, hunched over, hands on the edge, he waits for what's to come.

It's violent this time around, the way his stomach squeezes, body convulsing, the breath being knocked out from his lungs.

Retching hasn't ever been something he objectively likes to partake in, but this is excruciating. As painful as it is everytime, it's never this bad. It feels like liquifying all the soft organs he has, coming out in the form of the pink, shining sludge he's seen one too many times before.

After what feels like forever, and for all he knows might as well have been, it stops, the temporary reprieve much welcome. And temporary it is, he knows it to be.

It's what, the sixth time today?

Two is the average, maybe three if the universe is feeling particularly cruel that day, but this is out of the ordinary, even for the level of brutality he's subject to on the daily.

Returning to the previous position against the trunk, he finds a semblance of normality, chest heaving a little slowly, head pounding a little less loudly.

For a reason unknown, the proximity of the evergreens has always had a calming effect on him, being the closest thing to a natural sedative.

He slumps back into the position he was in initially, the drag of bark against his back a welcome comfort, puts an arm over his closed eyes, attempting to even out his breathing.

He's not sure how much more of this he can take.

The further you go, the stronger the pull gets.

It's starting to get dark now and the range of bushes you crossed hours ago is nowhere in sight, lost somewhere in the late evening fog that's beginning to coat the air surrounding you, lacing it with a heaviness, making it a little difficult to breath.

Yet you move in a daze, empowered by this urge, that there's something, someone you're seeking.

You don't know what, or who, just that it's here, somewhere.

A faint whistling catches your attention, coming from somewhere towards the east. Its a sonic you've heard before, a note all too acquainted. It's calming and unnerving at the same time, and you're not particularly fond of the way it fails even your second sight, for you, once again, are doubtful of what is it exactly that's transpiring, every second you venture further into these forsaken woods setting off new alarms within you.

So, much like what you've been doing until now, you follow the unsaid attraction and move towards the sound.

You spot a curtain of string leaves hanging down between two thick tree trunks, violet beams of light peeking through them. Fireflies are buzzing and glowing all around them, seemingly attracted to the luminescence, the night properly pitch dark by now.

You trudge forward, reaching for the leaf garland and drawing it aside and a gasp leaves your lips.

The view you witness is something that puts any fantasy you could ever have to shame.

It's violet all over, everywhere you look. Violet leaves, indigo trunks, prop roots hanging off branches, touching the ground covered with equally purple sand. Thick roots emerge from the tree bases, entwining and curling together, forming a spiderweb on the forest floor. Some leaves shed from their petioles, swirling in the air, filling it with a flowery aroma, twirling and landing on the river. The water has a translucent lavender tinge to it too, moving in small eddies, echoing a gentle hum in the quiet of the night.

That's when you spot it, spot them, someone in the water, submerged save for the head that peakes out. Only the back of the long locks of hair is visible to you, but something within you tightens, and in the same daze, you approach the silhouette without thinking twice about it.

As he hears the sound of the slowly approaching footsteps, he sighs audibly, closing his eyes, getting ready for the blow to land. This is the time of the night when Boemgyu loves to come to him with his stories. Stories of how there's nothing better he's tasted, how much he wishes Yeonjun could have it too.

He knows he comes from a good place, he really does. But listening to him for hours on end, about something that he can't understand, is painful to put it mildly.

But it's through these conversations that he lives vicariously, the closest he gets to knowing what it would be like to finally get to have his mate, the one made just for him, and for whom he was made. It'd all sounded like a fluke the first he heard of it, like the stuff from fairytales; had he not witnessed it firsthand, seen with his very own eyes, he'd still refuse to believe it. He'd been better off not knowing, in all honesty. Sometimes peace of mind comes from being none the wiser, and if this is not the best instance he could apply that faith to, he doesn't know what is.

But the younger native he considers his brother doesn't let him forget it, makes it a point to remind him everyday without fail.

So really, it's a vicious requisite. A masochistic desire.

It hurts him to hear, but is the only salvage he gets to have for now. For however long into the future, until he's shown some mercy.

Even so, as the sound of the footsteps grows, the familiar nausea returns, the bile gurgling up his throat for the seventh time this day, rendering hours of water therapy useless.

He's suddenly on edge.

"Leave me alone, Gyu. I don't want to hear it."

Might be harsh, but he doesn't have it in him to be tactical with his words right now. With how things have been today, he's long given up on being pleasant. That can always wait for another day.

The stomps stop, but don't retreat.

"Leave." He sighs.

Boemgyu knows when not to push him, he knows when to press and when to leave, so the lingering doesn't make any sense. The sheer frustration in his tone would have been reason enough for him to realise that leaving him to his devices was for the best, the best for both of them, and for the tranquillity that envelopes the night. For Yeonjun when mad, is a sight vexatious. He isn't proud of it, but anger control has never been his forte, and considering all the times his anger issues have done him and his community good, he doesn't plan on fixing that aspect of him anytime soon. Sure, it might make him an unpleasant person for many, but it's his shield when needed, his unforgiving armour when other senses fail to be of moment. Beomgyu knows of this, so the stalling about is so unlike him.

Annoyed, he emerges out of the water, whipping around,

"Didn't you hea-"

And promptly stops dead in his tracks.

Gorgeous.

That's the first word that comes to mind.

He's gorgeous.

As you stand there, staring at what you would imagine an angel to look like, your heart thuds the fastest it ever has. A tinge runs down your spine, a feeling akin to a sugar rush coursing through your veins.

Standing in the water, invisible from the waist down, he's the most ethereal being you've ever laid eyes upon.

His jade black hair is wet, crimped and sticking to his forehead, some stray strands getting in his eyes, heavy water drops cascading down his sharp cheekbones, even sharper jawline. So soft, so silken looking.

It's weird how you know the way they would tickle against your inner thighs.

His heart-shaped lips, full and pouty, shining, dripping water. So wet, so inviting.

It's funny how you know what the plump texture would feel against your own.

His flexed biceps, lean and long, skin a fair butter tone. So smooth, so unmarked.

It's uncanny how you know what they would feel like underneath your fingertips.

You've been there, with him. He's been here, with you. Yet it feels as though it were a time no longer valid, or perhaps a time that never was.

He's beauty personified, and you are unwilling to tear your haze away for even a second. He seems to be of a similar mind, for he's been standing there, completely still and gawking up at you, unblinking. His irises restless in their orbits, the way they run in small circles within his pupils is testimony enough to the miles a minute nature of his racing mind.

Then suddenly he frowns, turning about completely, and begins making his way through the splashes, walking towards the shore. And as the water level goes down inch by slow inch, revealing more of his torso, you're a goner.

Body slim yet toned, lean muscles accentuating his morphology at just the right places, his beauty encompasses even itself as he reveals more of himself from under the water. He wears nothing but a thin vest, a poor excuse for clothing, shrinked even more due to being wet, sticking to his sides, honey skin out for you to marvel at. Well technically, not for you to marvel at, but you're going to indulge all the same. He's completely out now, swinging long limbs over the edge of the shore, bending a little, a silver spiked garland necklace clinking and bouncing against his chest. And oh, that chest. Broad and smooth, a far cry from being muscular, but still well defined, clean cuts marking and outlining his pectorals, buds mercifully hidden under the sides of the vest.

The glint from the overshadowing moon catches on the sparkles adorning his body, making him twinkle against the dusk. The gleam only brightens as he comes closer, with you now realising that they embellish his neck too.

Would they come off if you licked them?

Shaking your head, you force your thoughts to come to a halt, their intrusive nature a surprise to your dazed state.

He's a stranger, and by the looks of it, not a normal one. Normal humans don't shine, don't have sparkled necks. No matter how much you feel like you know him, in the grand scheme of things, you don't.

He's standing before you now, soaked cloth clinging to his laterals, figure on display.

One look into his deep chestnut eyes, and the sugar-like rush is back again, albeit stronger this time around.

It's familiar, the way you want to drown in those pools of honey, the way you know the pattern of the golden flecks scattered in his orbs. The kind of knowingness that comes only from years of studying, admiring, loving.

It's well acquainted, the way his plush lips part, the silky tone of his voice,

"Sugar?"

The words are as hesitant as they are shocking, even to himself. It's evident from the way his forehead creases, pouty lips taking on a downward tilt. He's just as baffled as you are, if not more.

"Is that your name? Sugar?"

You meekly shake your head no, even though every impulse is forcing you to agree.

"Oh."

"But it feels like it."

"Oh."

It's deja vu. A familiarity. A recollection.

You know that's not your name. But what you also know is that it belongs to you, the feeling of connection near immediate within your being.

How else would you describe the way your body reacts? The way your ears perk up at the mention, your tongue ready to hum out an affirmative.

It's not your name. But it's meant to be yours.

There's a moment where you both just stare into the other's eyes, standing still, the fireflies flying about, enlightening his face at different angles, casting shadows in different gradients.

But all too soon is the haze broken, and he's averting his eyes, looking at everything but you.

You fight the urge to take his face in your palms and force it back towards you.

He's a stranger, you remind yourself, ignoring every instinct saying otherwise.

A clearing of throat is followed by a quiet question, "What are you doing here?"

"Uh, I don't- know."

That sounds sketchy, you're aware of it yourself, but you genuinely don't know. And for some reason, you can't lie to him, don't wish to.

He doesn't seem fazed, just hums. If you were of a more sane mind, you'd find it odd how that was the first question he wanted the answer to, skipping the essential who are you and how did you get here. No, the wording he used, what are you doing here, as if already aware that your arrival was by your own will and knowledge, something that was expected to happen. If so, he couldn't be more wrong.

You know it's not your place to ask questions, to demand any explanation, but the way your heart is brimming with emotion, this feeling that you know him, you can't help yourself,

"What are you?"

His head snaps to face you, those chestnut eyes boring into you with intensity. Not the good kind. He's tense all of a sudden, almost defensive.

"Something you're not." He snaps.

You're thrown off by the bite, but despite yourself, whisper,

"I beg to differ."

The frown deepens, his gaze near burning.

He arches a perfect brow in question and scoffs, "I'd be careful on the bluntness, little one. You're in my territory, with no knowledge of who I am, or what was it that you said? 'What' I am."

He's trying to intimidate you, back you up in a corner, to seem domineering, but you know him to be none of these things. Despite his razor sharp features and tough exterior, his warm eyes give him away. He can play pretend all he wants, but you can feel the gentleness rolling off of him, and perhaps it's on a spiritual level that you feel it, because there's no other way you would have known that he, in effect, poses no harm, however much may he play the part.

"Wouldn't be so sure of that."

Now he just seems amused, the earlier irritation sublimed. His eyebrows rise again in silent expectation, prompting an answer.

"I think- I think I kno-"

You cut yourself off before the thought is said out loud. You're not sure of his reaction, of what to expect, when in total honesty, your own response to the thought said out loud isn't predictable.

"I think I've seen you somewhere." You settle.

The playful expression drops, eyes almost whimsical for but a moment, before his face takes on the neutral stance you'd found him in.

It's baffling, how quickly he changes expressions, his features almost trained to follow suit. Yet you know of this habit of his to be borne out of the need to protect, to self preserve. You wonder what had to have happened for him to adopt an outlook such as this. If you didn't know any better, you'd simply label him a lunatic with no emotional control, but you do know better- the reason for which still unbeknownst to you- and all it does is make you want to shield him from all that is vile, the sudden urge to protect this Adonis of a man running rampant.

He inhales a deep breath, and you assume it's to possibly calm himself- God knows you need to. Rolling his shoulders until his joints pop, he shoves his hands into his cargo pockets, sighs,

"How can you get back hom-," A pause, "get back where you came from?"

Not entirely sure about the reason for the need he felt to correct himself, you once again let your subconscious do the talking,

"No idea. Guess I'm staying."

Leaving a dumbfounded stranger behind, you've no clue where you get the courage to stroll right past him and towards the lake, comfortably seating on the edge, your legs crossed underneath thighs. You cast a glance over your shoulder and sure enough, the bewildered expression is still very much present, maybe even augmented now.

"You gonna keep standing there?"

He blinks, a gesture oddly endearing on his stone cold shell, titling his head to the side, confusion clear as day.

In the short while you've spent with him today, you've already decoded half of his workings apparently, for he says nothing, quietly making his way over, settling down next to you, as far away as the narrow bank allows. This is the way to tame him, you've concluded. Be unsure and he'll take it upon himself to act condescending, be assertive and he'll act not too different to a puppy, following along as instructed. It all feels too natural, taking the lead with him, not being fooled by his sham.

"So," You begin, partly to break the silence that's uncharacteristically taken over him, but more so because it's been bugging you more than you ever could explain, "who's sugar?"

He cuts his eyes in your direction, the heat back in those orbs, and you've got a snide remark ready at the tip of your tongue, having already predicted a reaction such as this- really, he's too easy to read.

Or maybe you've been reading this genre of his longer than you believe, and this is the past experience coming back in waves.

Or, you're simply reading too much into it.

Nevertheless, just as predicted, he snarls,

"No one."

And just as quickly turns away, bringing knees up to his chest, tucking his chin over them.

He looks not unlike a hurt soul masking under the veil of an arrogant persona, and no matter the displeasure he expresses, you can't find it in yourself to find reason to believe the front he puts up, the urge to 'take care' the only inclination overpowering you.

The dismissal too abrupt to have been a result of a thought-over notion, you don't believe it. Not for a second.

But you suppose you'll let it go this time, if only in favour of your own inner turmoil.

Maybe he's feeling what you're feeling too.

The desire to let your guard down, to let this complete stranger in, said desire engaging in a constant contest against preservation instincts.

"Who are you, then?"

It's delibrate, the reframing to your question, and if the laxing of his face is any indication, he registers it too, appreciates it.

"Yeonjun." He breathes, still not looking at you.

You echo your name too, mulling over whether to extend a polite 'nice to meet you' or something of the sorts, but deciding against it, realising it might come off absurd, what with the nature of your conversations uptill now.

The head he had nestled on his knees snuggles further down, and it's either your ears playing tricks on you or you actually do hear a whimper.

"Hey, you okay?" A tentative arm hovers over his shoulder, and you wonder if he'd really mind the comfort you so badly want to offer. If the roles were reversed, you know you wouldn't.

"Fine." He rasps, voice hoarse, his guttural confirmation more alarming than reassuring.

"But you don-"

You don't get to finish the sentiment, as he's suddenly standing to his feet, making a run for the small pond sitting right by the lake. And what you witness is more than enough to have your blood running cold. It's something all too personal, the way he coughs up a saje coloured semiliquid, the way you can see the energy being drained from his person as he spasms violently.

Without second guessing this time around, you run to the pond yourself, crouch down just behind him, run a soothing hand across the expanse of his back. The halting of his shivering is almost immediate, and it only serves to spur your movements as you begin shallowly massaging the muscles.

He slouches back, covers a hand over his mouth, grumbles,

"Changed fucking colours. Cute."

And yet again, you know what he means.

"Used to be pink, huh?"

This seems to have grabbed his attention, as he slowly turns to look at you. You find it perplexing too, how he could have been going through what you have for longer than you can remember, the retching a part of your daily routine by now. There's something bigger at play here, something tying you and this stranger together, something beyond your simple hunch of familiarity.

And this time when you are met with his big, glassy eyes, you find something you didn't before, something you haven't in years.

Ardour. Sorrow. Oddly together.

Not only is the strange mix of emotions familiar, it's familiar in his hue of chestnut, his champagne orbs, the amalgamation untypically unique.

You've seen this look in these eyes. Irrespective of how miscostructive it sounds, you know you have. You'd swear your life on it.

He seems to have been struck with something similar, for the newfound warmth in his eyes- something you mentally blamed him for hiding- is basically overflowing, his guard visibly dropping.

His lips part, release nothing more than a gasp, waver, then seal back. He's hesitant, not wanting to say it out loud, but you hear it all the same. Hear the unsaid endearment, understand the implicit elucidation to his apprehension.

"Can you say it again?" Your voice is a whisper, afraid to shatter this stolen moment of intimacy.

"Say what again?"

"Say my name again?"

He breathes out your name, eyes averting, a blush adorning the apples of his cheeks.

"No. My name."

He's confused for all of a second before realisation dawns on him, cheekbones burning a deeper shade of crimson.

"You mean-?"

"Just say it."

"But- but you said it wasn't your name."

A sigh of exasperation and eye-squeeze of annoyance is all the incentive he needs it seems, for he's fulfilling your wish all too soon.

"Sugar."

And all too soon is your heart thumping in your ears, the same rush coursing through your veins.

Why your body chooses to react this way is beyond you, but it's intense enough to have a deeper connotation than a response to a mere nickname. It means something more.

You know it does.

Have known all this while.

He turns to look at you, and from this up close, the sparkles catching the moonlight once again, he shines brighter than any star, any constellation, any galaxy.

He's your star. Your constellation. Your galaxy.

Your own escape, your angel.

Wait.

Your eyes trail back to the curve of his shoulders, searching for something you know is missing.

He follows your line of sight. There's a split second where you see the panic in his eyes, which disappears when he looks over his shoulders. If he thinks he's safe, he couldn't be more wrong.

"Show me."

It's not a question. Not a demand either, just a soft request, one he can easily decline, but made with enough conviction that tells him there's no way he's getting out of this one with a lie.

So he just looks at you, eyes drooped in acceptance, a sombre expression on his face,

"How?"

You know what he means, but you don't have an answer for him.

"How do you know?" He reiterates.

"I just do."

"Who are you, really?"

You smile at that, for you know the frustration he feels. You feel it too.

The knowledge that you know him, but don't.

The understanding that you know he has wings, but not sure how.

The awareness that you want him, but have no right to.

"Show me, please?" You disregard his question entirely, and he knows as well as you that it's a pointless one anyway.

So he gingerly stands up, backing away from you a little. You thought you were prepared; you overestimated yourself.

A fluttering sound echoes through the silent forest, and amidst the dead of the night, you experience a sight all too enchanting.

The same whirlwind of colours, of shades blending together, the same kind you witnessed in your dreamland not too long ago, is presented before you. Manifesting in the most beautiful pair of wings. The Blue Morpho doesn't hold a candle in the face of such gorgeousness.

Your dream hadn't been a fluke, you saw him in it. You saw his wings, felt his lips.

Once again, your eyes glaze over, heart splitting in two at the view. He's standing there, with tears of his own and you know why.

As if in a trance, you get up and run off towards him, stopping only when you're inches away, panting, out of breathe. And not out of the exhaustion at having made the spree, really there wasn't more than a few metres between you and him. But the emotion has engulfed you, your breath practically belonging to him in this moment, entering your lungs upon his command and his command only.

Your eyes trace his wings, from the arch at the top to the downward droop at the bottom, eventually trailing to his face, and ultimately to his lips. Those full lips.

You step closer still, hands cautiously reaching for his shoulders, going on your tiptoes to whisper against his plump lips,

"I'm sorry, but I really have to do this."

Strong arms wrapping around your waist is all the consent you need and in the next moment you are lunging for him, taking his lips in an all consuming kiss, even after trying your best to hold back, if only to not freak him out. It's no use now, so you let go, let your body react the way it does, let your subconsciousness take the lead.

His mouth is indeed as addicting as you imagined it to be, knew it to be. Your hands make their way up his shoulders to his nape, where you brush his hair and true to form, they're just as soft as you imagined, as you knew.

He lets out a groan in your mouth, tilting his head more, deepening the kiss. He's licking into your mouth at this point, tongue swirling around, sucking the essence right out of you, drinking it in earnest. It's not a kiss, it's so much more than that. It feels like he's ravishing you, tasting you.

A sudden tickling in your back makes you shudder, a feeling akin to having an ice cube slide down your bare skin. Goosebumps break all over you, and the familiar fluttering sound permeates the air around you two.

You pull back to gasp, shaking your shoulder blades. His wings are still there, the same they had been before, so what in the world was that sound?

You look up at Yeonjun to find him not looking at you, his gaze fixated on something behind your shoulder. You turn your head back yourself, only to be met with a carbon copy of those angelic wings somehow attached to your back.

"Wha- How.. What is happening?"

Contrary to your panicked tone, he's calm, almost delighted. That claim is proven right when he suddenly breakes out into a wistful smile, the tears making their way down his waterline.

"I knew it." He ducks his head, resting it on your chest, hands refusing to let go of your sides.

"Yeonjun, what is going on? I'm getting scared now."

His head snaps up at that, hands finding your cheeks, cupping and cradling your face with gentle care.

"Don't be scared, sugar. You're here now. With me. You're finally here." He chokes out the last words, clearly overwhelmed.

You frown, but don't question him, deciding to be patient.

His thumbs brush against your skin, caressing back and forth,

"Don't you remember me?" He gently whispers.

There it is again, the same question, the same vague feeling. You known him but you'd don't.

"It's okay," He somehow senses what you're experiencing it seems, as he doesn't push it further, "it's okay. Let me help you remember, yeah?"

And with that he's closing the distance between your bodies again, lips moulding against yours, whisking you away in a trance like state once again.

This is it.

This is the taste he's been dying for, time and time again. And to think he already had it before, once upon a time.

It's not a sudden downpour of memories that rains down to him, but a slow sprinkle, a calm drizzling, the kind that comes before a thunder storm.

And then it's a torrent, a gush of water, drenching him whole, making him lose his footing. It makes him dizzy but he'll have it any fucking day if it means he gets to taste you again.

He remembers you, remembers the time when you belonged to him, and he you. The times you spent together, near this very spring, tasting each other for hours on end. The times that he has now come to know of as the most peaceful and fulfilled. He felt content, whole.

Before you were snatched away from him, a you-shaped gaping hole left in his heart. Every single one of the memories you made together wiped, yet the hole never closed, never healed.

He always felt something in his life was missing, a last puzzle piece to complete him, a last drop to fill his glass.

And now, with your wings outsretched behind you, the same ones as his, he has found that piece of puzzle, that drop of nectar.

You taste just as he imagined. Like grapevines with an undertone of fernflowers.

A grapevine left untouched for so long, harbouring yeast on the surface. All he has to do is crush his lips against yours, and the grapes burst open, outer skin tearing, juices squirting out, fermenting with the yeast to form the richest wine to ever grace his palate.

The fernflowers that bloom for a period too short, for him only, his very own summer solstice, being fertile just for him.**

He remembers. And you're here with him. At last.

The only thing that's left, is for you to recall as well. It's going to be no difficult fate.

As he reconnects your lips again, pulling you impossibly closer by your middle, his wings wrap around your bodies, and just like every other time in the past, yours do too. With both your appendages curling over and forming a cocoon around your forms, he feels the security all over again, the one he wanted to revel in forever.

Too bad no one told him forever doesn't last as long as one thinks, but now that he finally has you again, he doesn't plan on letting go anytime soon, if ever.

When he breaks the kiss, your own tears have made their way past your jaw, wet eyes twinkling, reflecting the moon in them. For him, they are the moon themselves.

He softly thumbs them away, smiling through his own tears,

"Welcome back, sugar."

You give him a wistful smile, his own sorrow reflecting on your features. An underlying hope buried somewhere deep within the pain.

"Missed you." You mumble, scrunching your nose in a sniffle. It's something you always did back then, and everytime it made him wonder how it was possible for someone to be so cute, so precious.

Winding his arms around your shoulders, he steps forward, slotting himself against you, his face in your neck.

"I missed you more. I fucking missed you so much."

Hot wet trails run down your neck and you lovingly ruffle his hair, remembering how it always soothed his anxiety.

He stays like that a while, hiccuping and reiterating his saudade for you. After his breath evens out, and tears dry up, he pulls back, looking deep in your eyes.

"You know me, right?"

You huff a little, endeared by his need for confirmation.

"I do. I do know you, darling."

Darling.

That's what you always called him. That's what he's been unknowingly wanting to hear all these years. That's what makes him feel complete again.

"Can I kiss you?" The question is frantic, his excitement leaking through the words.

You don't give him an answer, opting to push at his chest and jump up slightly, wrapping your legs around his lean waist. It's the same, the way you fit over him, legs slipping into the curve of his waist. He knows he'll fit into you in other ways, too.

He can't wait to complete you, to be your last piece of the puzzle.

You lean into him again, sliding your lips with his, the soft sounds of moisture all he hears. As if on autopilot, his legs move of their own accord, side stepping all the hurdles, all while kissing you with his eyes closed, with a practised ease. And when your back hits the same Bristlecone Pine tree trunk he spent all day slumped against, he remembers why this routine feels rehearsed. Because to put it simply, it is. It's something he's done countless times before, carrying the familiar weight of you to this very spot.

Once there, he presses his body into you, his want eminent in the way it digs you in the thigh, his hands kneading the flesh. He feels himself getting lost in the pleasure, a throaty groan escaping him,

"Give me more."

Part 1 | Part 2

Main Masterlist

[The follow-up smut drabble will be posted soon. Send an ask if you wish to be tagged when it drops.♡]

**The fern flower is a magic flower in Baltic, Estonian and Slavic mythology. According to the myth, this flower blooms for a very short time on the eve of the summer solstice, and represents fertility. This theme will be explored more in part two to this piece.

Feedback and reblogs are very highly appreciated. They're what keep the community alive and help content creators stay motivated.

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jelzorz · 10 months

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156.

Villads is kind enough to give them a lift back to Katolis, which is nice, thinks Rayla, because it's quicker and safer and ultimately more convenient, but also horrible, because it's an extra week of sailing, and Rayla's had enough of the nausea and the vomitting and the world bobbing up and down on the waves.

It does give them a lot of downtime though.

It's weird. They had downtime while they were waiting for Ez and Soren and Corvus to come back from their meeting with Domina Profundus too, but it was a different sort of downtime—one fraught with tension and the itch to move, to do something instead of wait for the end of the world. There's a sense of completion this time, which makes sense, supposes Rayla. They have Aaravos' prison and they need to decide on their next move together, which is easier done in the castle after a little rest and recuperation. But until then, they are sailing, and waiting, and the bruises on Callum's face fade with every passing day, and the split in his lip heals little by little until he barely flinches anymore when he eats or smiles.

"It's not that bad," he promises her when she asks. "I reckon I've had worse."

Rayla clucks her tongue at him. "Have you?"

Callum shrugs. "I dunno. But it's what I'm telling myself until something worse does happen." He grins then, but Rayla catches the waver in the corner of his lip, and she knows it stings to put up such a front but can't be mad at him for it because... Well. She'd do the same.

"Forget about it, okay?" His smile softens into something a bit more genuine, and he touches her face, his fingers gentle against her skin. "We're okay now. That's all that matters."

Rayla supposes he's right, but forgetting about it is not as easy as he makes it sound. Twice now, she's woken up frantic and terrified, her hands numb with cold, and her mind filled with images of him, desperate to help her, him drawing his fist back and slamming it into Finnegrin's jaw, him crumpling onto the deck under the force of Elmer's blow. The steady rocking of Sea Legs beneath her doesn't help—if anything, it makes it worse, and she stumbles on her own feet as she gets up, seeking Callum in the dark, just to make sure he's here, and he's safe.

And he is. Of course he is. How could he not be? He's Callum, and he's looked at every challenge so far and laughed in its face. She breathes out when she finds him in the hammock next to her, his breathing steady, his skin warm beneath her fingers, his pulse drumming stubbornly in his wrist.

He stirs under her touch, and Rayla draws back, her breath caught in her throat. She hadn't meant to wake him, but relief floods her anyway when his eyes flicker open and land on hers, green against lilac, his brow furrowed in concern.

"You okay?"

Rayla hesitates, then swallows, then nods. "Yeah," she mumbles. "I—erm—" She coughs. "I just... wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Why would I not be?"

The ship rocks and moonlight flashes over Callum's lip, still swollen, still split. Rayla flinches at the sight of it, the image of him splayed unconscious on the deck suddenly fresh in her mind once more.

"Oh," says Callum.

Rayla looks away.

There's a pause. It's long and it feels like an ocean between them, so many things still unsaid, so many feelings still unaddressed. Callum shifts, finding her fingers in the dark and resting his forehead against hers, his breath warm and comforting against her lips.

"I'd do it again," he mumbled at last. "I'd take it all again if it meant you'd be safe."

"You wouldn't."

"I would."

Another pause. Another breath. And then the press of lips against hers, gentle, tentative, barely passing for a kiss at all, but a kiss all the same. Rayla tastes the metallic tang of blood on his lips, the split not quite healed all the way just yet, and Callum breathes out, his nose against hers, his breath light on her skin. "I'd do anything for you," he murmurs.

Rayla squeezes her eyes shut, her throat tight, her fingers tighter around his. "I know," she says at last. "That's what I'm scared of."

#in anticipation #rayllum #my favourite thing about s5 us the hurt/comfort

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emojellyace08 · 6 months

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A/N: @lxvesickfxxl here's your other spicy request! (The text limit is making me nuts lmao) And I decided to add Gun, and a little bit of Goo, Samuel, and DG because I promised for UI Daniel x Reader and Gun x Reader smut but I still haven't done it yet (well here it is now as an advance Merry Christmas gift you horny mfs LMAO).

Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT🔞! (this post will only be accessed by older audiences), reader and characters featured are 18+ and older (characters have the same age as reader), consensual sex (consent is sexy & hot guys), cunningulus (oral f receiving), fingering, blowjob (oral m receiving), penetration (rough sex on some parts), creampie/breeding kink (reader is on birth control ; everybody use protection in real life when doing it), Danny activating UI mode during the deed, dirty talking/name calling ; slut, darling, honey, daddy (especially on the last part), spanking, use of toys, mentions of masturbation, begging. (I know it's a lot forgive me for being sus ; this post is unedited).

Sex with 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐄𝐋 is always soft and really passionate as he is really clingy to you. Your sight and voice alone is enough to make him worked up. Him jacking off on the shower and whimpering softly making sure to shut himself up since he's really embarrassed if you ever caught him massaging his own dick. Yet the thought of it alone just makes him even more aroused as he now pumps his cock as he felt his orgasm reaching, him waiting for his own finish.

But it's not about him today, it's about making you cry in pleasure as he continued to French-kiss you. You can feel him chuckle on your lips as he continues to roam his tongue into your own warm mouth. He then made his way on the valley of your neck, leaving soft nibbles creating a meadow of lilacs and irises as you continue to purr as Daniel continued to kiss further down south. Sucking at your now aroused bud as he squishes the tender flesh of your breasts making you cry out in surprise as you can feel your own body heating up. Now Daniel is looking up to you with those puppy-eye tactic as he asks permission to continue further. "Babe, is this okay?" him tugging at your black-laced panties as you shyly nodded in approval. He wasted no time in gently pulling down the undergarment. Daniel then spreads your legs to expose your drooling pussy. You gasped as the cold air hits your sensitive and now puffy clit before Daniel licks down on your core making you call for his name. Him continuing to make eye-contact as your cheeks flushed as he sucks at your pearl. Him tasting the sweet juices of your sex drooling down in your hole as you moan when he continues to give you those teasing kitty licks.

"Da-Danny stop teasing." you groaned while pulling his hair down to your sensitive area earning for more friction as you can feel him smirk against your hot and sensitive skin. It was unusual for him to act like this when you're making love all the time. If you pleaded him to eat you whole, he's going to do it without hesitation. But from the looks of it, Daniel may seem to be frustrated as he not only missed doing this. But he also missed you, like a lot since you're both busy with taking down the old man which makes him really agitated. "C'mon darling. It's been a while since I fucked you like this. Don't be pissed off about it." he murmured while rubbing your clit, his warm breath adding up to the familiar yet hooking pleasure as you arched your back when you feel him enter his tongue that your walls wrapped around the wet muscle. Daniel is not the type of guy who wastes everything. So he makes sure that every inch of you is sucked, kissed, tasted, and licked as he moans into your cunt like he's the one being pleasured when your velvety walls would clench around his tongue as he tries to bury his mouth deeper to reach your soft spots. And he doesn't care if he suffocates himself as the musky yet fragrant taste and smell of your pussy is making him insane right now. The tip of his slim nose would bump your now pulsing bud, making you blabber uncoherent nonsense as the bundle of nerves keeps getting stimulated by only his mouth. Your slick drooling down not only down to your pussy but now staining shiny of his mouth and some parts of his captivating face. And you know your vision isn't messing with you when you saw his eyes turning dark when you thought it only activates when he's focused in outside combat.

"Fuuuck! Da-Daniel Oh!" you cried when you're just about to cum but then he stopped. Him going up facing you as you gulped. You can see his silver irises glow and his sclera turn pitch black. Just when you are about to ask him if he's doing well, he pins your arms into the soft mattress as he gives you again another lip-lock. The movements of his tongue is faster than light as you whimper in pleasure at the sudden change of his aura. "Daniel, so good..." you would whisper as he smirks when sucking your neck and down to your nipples again while he bucks his rock-hard dick on your plush thighs. He continued to look up to you like he was again asking for your permission to fuck you up. "It's okay Dan. You have my consent." you softly replied as he gets up and then again spread your legs to expose your heat. The sight of your core even getting wetter makes the blood of his dick rose up as he pumps the base to prepare himself, yet you can see the end turning red as a drop of pre-cum drools down on his dick and even on the couch. Him grinning at your sight staring back at his growing member. He then pushes the tip and his whole member inside quite harshly as you cried feeling satisfied as the sting of pain mixes with the obsessing heat and pressure. Daniel continued to thrust in a quick speed as you continued to mewl and call for his name, your juices from before helps feel better against the building friction. He really likes the way your insides pulsates and tighten when he hits your spots that you yourself can't reach. From this speed, it doesn't take a while for you to feel your approaching orgasm.

"D-Daniel I'm close!" you can barely say as your juices and sweat combines with your entangled bodies and stains his torso. He then buries himself deeper as you shut your eyes as you can almost see the stars when he hits your g-spot. You can feel his dick twitch as he suddenly made you cum for the first time of the day. He's not behind though as after some rough thrusts his dick releases lots of his seed as his jaw clenches as his eyes flutter shut making his long and dark lashes shine adding up to the erotic yet romantic visual . You got to enjoy this side of Daniel, whimpering cutely as he paints your walls white and pulling out, him admiring your hole with the pearly glob of his seed and your own cum while rubbing your clit as he grins at your beautiful face and body. If you're guessing it right he's planning to overstimulate you (again).

"𝐆𝐔𝐍!" you hissed while biting your lip to minimize your sounds of pleasure when the sturdy man unabashedly shoves his slender finger. Your cunt squishes his fingers as he just inserted the third. Your pre-cum coating his knuckles with white cream as his scarred thumb draws circles on your heating clit making your eyes roll back from the sensation. Him chuckling how you look so dumb-fucked. "You kept begging me to stop when you even look more erotic than those women Goo pervs up in those magazines." he commented as you were about to protest that it's the way he fingers you that makes you needier for his touch. Just then the raven-haired male picked up his hand's pace as you moan loudly that you voice starts to get dry and hoarse when he's not even inserting his dick yet.

"Yes.. yes.. YES!" the words shamelessly rolled out of your tongue when Gun keeps pushing and pressing the rough and spongy spot deep inside that makes you feel like you're dancing in Cloud-9. "You keep telling me to insert another finger when you told me that I should hurry up and make you go limp with my cock right now. I can't understand what you really want. Tsk." he glares at your clumping hole as he keep pushing his fingers deep inside that he can probably touch your cervix if he wants to. More, more, and more as you bucked your hips, trying to sync with the lewd movements of his fingers as he chuckles then again with your desperation to cum as quickly as possible. "That's it. Ride my hand like a whore that you are. Good girl." he breathes heavily as he felt your walls release the rope of warm slick. His palms scissoring your pussy as you keep thrusting your hips riding your own orgasm as you closed your eyes as you drowned from the satisfaction.

Good thing that the bastard let you ease up before he slides inside. But despite having a quick break, the sight of your drenched sex from your fingering session earlier makes his enormous dick stand up ready to fuck you and himself. "We haven't even started yet and now you're wetter than before." he commented with a husky voice as you rolled your eyes from his teasing. "It's from before dumbass." you stick your tongue out to annoy Gun but the tactic doesn't seem to work as he just laughs deeply at your mannerism. "Oh yeah? Let's see who's going to beg later on to make this tight pussy cum all over again." he replied in a menacing yet attractive manner as his tip building with pre-cum rubs your vulva and your pearl. He hasn't even inserted the slightest inch of him yet you're already making sounds just by him playing with your outer area. "Hey can you quit it- AH!" you were about to protest from his annoying actions when he inserts his huge member inside your walls. You whimper in delight as you are already getting what you want, you not caring when Jonggun is going fast and quite sloppy right now. In fact the speed that he is going for is the exact way that you want it to be to fill you up.

"Gun! It' feels so good!" you muttered as you wrapped your jelly-like legs on his hips as he bends closer to your face to lean in for a kiss. You sticking out your tongue again as he slid his own into your warm mouth. Your tongues entangling into each other as you can feel him go deeper from your cunt. His dick rubbing your pussy walls as you tighten even more, not wanting him to leave as his tip would pop your cherry. Heavy balls clapping on your ass as he balances his weight, his arms gripping on the mattress just next to your pillow to not crush you out. His mouth devouring yours like a predator hungrily eating it's prey as you felt vulnerable for him. The good way of vulnerable as you felt so loved and pampered by the beast that everyone feared.

"You close?" he asked, pulling away from the kiss as a string of saliva connected from your wet muscles as you can see it on his face that he's closer to reaching his limits. But he wants to make you cum many times. And if you really know Gun well, he can last up into hours by staying in bed and making love with you like this. "So close~" you meowed as you moaned louder when his body would move in a rapid pace as his tip would kiss your cervix. Gun wants to spray his cum inside of you so bad but he's been trying to control himself lately since he didn't want to take care of a toddler yet after 8 months. "Tell me, where do you want me to cum? Should I do it on your mouth or on your tits?" he grinned as he felt so satisfied at your expression. Eyes rolling back on your lids as your tongue was fully out with some drool rolling down of your chin. His thumb cleaning off the spit as you captured his hand to suck it off dry. "Inside! Please inside! Cum inside of me please!" you stuttered as you struggle to speak with his dick making you close to your second orgasm as he pounds into you. "Ahh, so good. You're so fucking good." he hissed as after a few more thrusts he finally made you cum like he promised as he did the same. Your liquids mixing with each other as your legs fell down on the bed from tiredness. If you were not on pill, you're probably be inheriting his bloodline now.

𝐃𝐆 maybe exhausted from work and his endless schedules, but that's no stopping him to breed and fill you up with his cream. Yes, it may not be obvious but the pink-haired lad has the fantasy of spraying his seed into your pussy. He's just really hesitant with going along with it as it has many risks of actually making you pregnant and he doesn't want to clean up the mess. Which resorts to him pumping his thick length especially when you're not together, when he's in the office, or when he's in his own luxury bedroom. He may plan with making a family with you with the future. But he has other businesses to do. It's not only about his idol life and this major crews drama. He gonna make sure that you're having the best time of your life when you're down on the bed, ass up as your two wholes glazed with your own slick is calling for his mouth.

"Hah~ Mhmm James." you lewdly whimpered when his tongue would make contact and swipe at your aching slit. "Sh... I love your moans honey. But don't moan up my name or we would get caught." he scolded yet it has no signs or intention of offense as his tip would tease you as he spreads your ass for him to have access on the bundle of nerves that he's trying to stimulate (which successfully happens right now). You're going for a long hour now since you can't count the times that he made you cum. Him successfully squirting his seed like he wanted. On your tits when he rubs his length between your cleavage and those pretty chest, mouth when you gave him the most amazing blowjob ever, and most especially your tight cunt that squeezes his big cock really well even you have already done this sinful act for countless of times you're with him. With his dick, fingers, or let alone his tongue is enough to quickly finish. You shoving your lower part on his angelic face as you can feel him giggle at your motion, making heat rise up on your face and rose color dust on your cheeks. He continues to ravenously eat you up as he can taste the mixture of his semen and your juices on his tongue. He would travel on your clit that's been crying for his attention. Him capturing the precious and swollen bud as his slim fingers would easily go inside and rub your aching walls. "HAH~ FUCKKKK!" you mewled as you dipped your face on the white and plush pillows as you can almost feel your eyes tear up from the overstimulation.

Anticipation, love, and embarrassment are the feelings that are getting caught up with the obsessing touch of his as his fingers would press down into your G-spot as you continue to whimper and push your ass further into his face. Him spanking your peaches as you let out a cry of shock as the perfect mixture of pain and contentment spreads into your ass as he continues to eat you up like he hasn't eaten dinner and this would be his last.

"Ah, I can't even remember the times when you taste bad. You taste so fucking good for me. Such a good toy for me to release all of my stress~" the idol smirked emphasizing his sharp fangs as he licked his lips tasting his and your essence. His teeth softly nibbling your ass cheeks as you bucked your hips again while he pumps the third finger up in your cunt.

"Fuckkk~!" you mewled when the vibrator would make contact with you swollen clit as you humped on the toy to get the vibration that you want. You can see his lips curl into a shitty grin when he's jacking off in front of your slutty position, your ass was up as he continues to push the other toy in your other hole making you whimper while you can see his veiny cock throb as it needs to be touched, licked, and sucked. Him forcing to stop cumming as he squeezes the base since he wants to nut with you. He's always like this, 𝐆𝐎𝐎 is always a menace to everybody. Especially with you, his girlfriend as it doesn't matter if you're in public or both of you are in bed. Messing up each other not only your bodies, but also your minds as both of your erotic visuals is enough to make each other needy for sex.

"Mhmmm... yeah? You really like that? What a fucking slut you are." he grinned once again as he takes the vibrator off your pussy making you whine from the sudden lost of contact in your heat. "WHY DID YOU TAKE IT AWAY?!" you hissed as he slapped your ass for the third time. The hand marks on your skin is insane, your cheeks swollen as the painful sting surrounds the surface. "And why you're acting like a brat? Isn't this what you really wanted?" he mockingly questioned and you moaned in delight when he finally pushed it in. His veins rubbing your walls the way you wanted it to be, but he's so slow. Super slow that you want to take the matter in your own hands as you really want to ride his cock, if it weren't for his left hand that is strongly restraining your arms to move. "Goo, faster PLEASE!" you begged and sobbed as he chuckles while fixing his dark glasses when he can almost see your eyes tear up from the lack of stimulation that you wanted. Him laughing at your body movements when you would buck your hips to push his member more into you, you falling down in the pit of despair when he disobeys what your body really craved for. And you're sure that he's not letting you dominate him as he thinks it would kill HIS mood.

"You want me to go serious for you? Remember when I did, you can't walk for three fucking days?" the blondie scoffed as you shut your eyes when he goes deeper hitting your spots that begs for attention. But he's still not going rapid, not only because he's worried that you can't make him his coffee in the morning later on. But at some point he's worried that you can't go to work with your legs not functioning properly if he ever goes crazy on you. But you didn't care about it when his member is filling you up. The steady pace with the cavernous penetration makes your mind hazy since it's enough to give you your third orgasm. Your walls squelching as the sound of his balls makes contact with your clit and your liquids staining his torso is enough to make him insane. "Damn, is this really enough to make your legs shake? You want more?" "Yes, want your cum~" you weakly replied as his tip would poke your cervix. You feeling sleepy yet your pussy is still up for another round as your slick would stain your newly washed sheet just after your past bed sessions. "Okay then, if that's what you want." he groaned as he pushed further down as you gasped in shock when your walls would wrap around his cock.

You might need to purchase a wheelchair on Amazon next time :).

"You look so fucking ridiculous right now, can you hear me?" the bulky tattooed man spanked your ass for the hundredth time leaving red colors on your flesh. Him smirking since he's so proud to make you go dumb-fucked as your eyes would close from the overstimulation. Your body was filled with love bites, hickies, and his cum everywhere. His cream is all over your face, your chest, your thighs, and all over your destroyed cunt that you begged him to mess up as you don't care if your co-workers would here you on the office late at night. His semen was all over his work table, and if you're not mistaken some important papers are also stained with his cum all over. And the fact the thought of them hearing the scandalous squelch of his enormous cock pounding deep in your pussy turns you on more as everybody would now that you're only his as he's only for you.

"𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐔𝐄𝐋~" you called for him as he scoffs at your face. You look so ethereal yet pathetic at the same time as he can't help but to think that for a woman like you, you would approve him to have public sex. And most especially in his own company. But the way you screamed and begged for his dick, the way you would perfectly tighten around his immense member, and the countless times you orgasmed just by him using his expert fingers and mouth just boosts his ego making him feel proud of himself. Jake and the other crew members maybe the best and the strongest men in Korea, but can they make a woman cum like this? To make them bend as their holes flutter in excitement just to get properly destroyed? Guess not.

"What is it that you want? C'mon don't be shy~." he purred while massaging your butt cheeks up into your hips while stroking the base of his shaft. Thick veins were growing on the base as the building pre-cum drops on the floor from his now red tip. "Wanna pleasure you~..." you muttered as he raised his eyebrows in slight confusion, but seeing that you're insisting to take the lead makes him a bit hesitant since he's supposed to be the one who will dominate you. The one that who will make you feel good. "Really? How are you going to do that?" he mocks you as a method to even make him feel superior than you. But seeing you smirk and get up using with all of your remaining strength sends him a different kind of butterflies in his stomach as you smooch his pale yet soft lips. Him opening his mouth as you slid your tongue inside of his as your wet muscles danced as he lifts your body and you locking your legs on his hips. With his immeasurable strength, he manages to carries your body to pin you on the marble wall. Him hungrily eating your mouth as if he's a wolf starving for a meal as he pulls you closer to his before he broke the kiss. A string of saliva connects your tongues before you kissed his tattooed neck. Admiring the designs and markings as you nibbled on the stiff flesh and kissing further down south releasing a grunt from Samuel as you made your way into his torso. You pumping the enormous base of his cock as the veins continued to pop up because of his aching erection.

"Hah~ Fucking hell, where did you learned this? Are you so horny that you learned how to eat a dick big like this?" he muttered when you continued to give him those kitty licks with those teasing doe-like eyes. And just when he's about to scold you, you pushed the whole thick and long cock of his on your tight mouth. Him groaning as you bobbed your head up and down and testing your gag reflex while you play with his heavy balls. "That's it... that's right... Fuck so good..." he whimpered while closing his eyes as he pulled your head forcing you to take him whole. Saliva and his pre-cum drooling down on his base as your tongue continue to swirl on his member and his veins and up to suck his tip while your hands plays with his balls and pumping the base. It doesn't take long for him to shoot his load on your throat, you giving pecks on his lower shaft and rolling your tongue on the end of his cock. "You said that I'm weak and can't take your whole thong right? Well look who's crying in pleasure right now." you commented while sucking your fingers clean and swallowing his seed as he scoffed in embarrassment.

A/N: FUCKKKKKKKKkkkkkkkk I"M DONE DOING THIS SHI I HOPE YOU LIKE IT

And Cheonliang arc is coming LETS GO (Lightning Choi might be dead and I don't want James Lee to be Charles' second body WELP)

And another note, which one should I do after the other requests?

#lookism x reader #lookism x y/n #lookism x you #daniel park x reader #lookism fic #samuel seo x reader #gun park x reader #dg x reader #james lee x reader #goo x reader #lookism smut #daniel park smut #park hyungesok x reader smut

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