#i ALREADY feel stingy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

elliesgaythoughts · 3 months

Text

Take it

MDNI

SubEllie x FemaleReader

Warnings: strap e!receiving, fingering, chokehold e! Receiving, fucking Ellie in prone, Ellie passes out(kinda🤷‍♀️), squirting, spit (once), mama kink goes both ways, reader kisses Ellie’s bewty cheek🩷

No plot! Just straight (not really) fucking!

You admire the view of her in front of you, the sight of her auburn head pressed against your white pillow, the porcelain skin on her back that arched perfectly, the light glisten of her slick drooling down her thighs “please” she whispers, her pink lips brushing against her pillow, eyes closed.

You’ve been ogling at her for only a few seconds but for her probably felt like eternity “please” she repeats herself.

“Gimme a second baby, you look so pretty like this”

“For fuck sake” she mutters as she turns her head on the pillow and deepens the arch in her back, trying lure you in.

Your palm lands harshly against her asscheek and you see her shiny clit twitch at the impact “the fuck did you just say?”

“Nothingg” she whines.

“Hmm, that’s what I thought.” Your palm gently massages the sting of your slap and she sighs, relaxing.

The tip of your index finger trails down her ass, down her slit and stops on her clit “you wouldn’t talk back, right?”

She’s pulsing around nothing “n-no never”

You land a stingy slap to her clit causing her to yelp in pain and try to close her legs but your hands land behind her knees pinning them in place and you swear you almost hear a little sob come from the dainty girl “that’s righhht” you coo “because you’re a good girl Ellie” she hums in agreement.

You kiss her cheek and stand straight again, leaning your pelvis forward, your cock resting between her pussy lips and she whimpers.

“Say it” you instruct her sternly.

“Um I-I’m a good girl”

“Mhmm such a good fucking girl” you start sliding your length up and down her pretty pussy and it quickly getting covered in her slick, you slide your tip across her clit then press your tip against her entrance “you want it?”

“Yesss yess” she pleads.

“Of course you do, you fucking slut” you say dismissively, Ellie’s squeak of surprise is cut off when she feels you spit onto her tight little hole.

She realeases a gutteral moan as you barely push your tip in and she loses the arch in her back.

But you weren’t having it you press your hand onto her spine and push her belly to your mattress “Nuh uh, you know how I like you” you say pushing juuust the tip into her entrance, you watch as she restlessly turns her head, laying on her left cheek then right, her nails sinking into your duvet.

“You gonna do whatever I say?”

You’re slowly working your way inside her

“Yess! Please mama”she begs then cries a shattered “please” aww you’ve already broken her and you aren’t even halfway inside her yet.

You push into her deeper just over half way “make yourself cum”

She whines patheticly as she holds her weight on her palms and starts to push her hips onto your cock but you stop her, leaning forward and grabbing both her elbows and pulling them up till they’re right besides her waist, her face falling into the pillow weakly.

“Not like that” you drop them.

She sobs patheticly again, rolling her hips against your length.

“Want you to play with your pussy”

“Mama no-” she’s cut off when both your palms land harshly on each of her asscheeks and start to slide her off your length.

“Waait!” Ellie squeals, as she struggles to lift her hand, bringing it to her lips and weakly spitting on them before reaching down to her clit, sighing in relief as she starts to lazily massage small circles into it “see baby” you coo “just want my pretty girl to feel good”

She nods stupidly, mind in the clouds.

You lean forward causing her to moan at the feel of your tip hitting her sensitive spot “such a good girl” you whisper in her ear and begin kissing down her spine, pulling out more with each peck, all the way till you reach her right ass cheek and peck her there, you look down to see her entrance empty but a line of slick connecting your tip to her throbbing entrance and her fingers still working at her clit desperately.

Without warning you push two of your fingers inside her thrusting gently and curling them down just right to hit that spongy spot inside her.

You lower yourself to your knees, face to face with her perfect cunt admiring how her and your fingers both work to bring her so much pleasure, it’s almost poetic, you close your eyes, still massaging that spongy spot inside your girlfriend and place kisses all down the back of her thigh, feeling the little hairs there tickle against your lips, you’re gone, completely lost in the woman in front of you, thanking whoever or whatever it was that brought her into your life, but she yet again pulls you outta your trance by whispering “so c-close nghh” her walls closing in on your digits confirm it as you pull out of her and she starts to whine in protest but you cut her off “want you to do it yourself, remember?”

“Mhmm” she whines as her fingers glide frantically across her clit.

You lick a strip up the back of her thigh as Ellie chants your name repeatedly, your hands wrap around her legs your fingers digging into the front of her thighs, feeling the muscle there tremble, she’s writhing in front of you as you peck gently at her skin, she mumbles something incoherent, her voice high, her legs shaking as little cute spirts of liquid leave her, you grab her wrist pulling her hand away “that’s enough baby” you take her whole clit into your mouth sucking on her gently, your tongue rolling over the soft skin, broken pleads leaving her lips as a steady stream of her release starts to leave her while she squeals, reaching between her legs trying to push your head away, you slap her hand away and lightly trail your fingertips up and down her outer thighs, feeling the goosebumps there and when you decide you’re done you hum against her clit in satisfaction before placing a kiss on her pearl and pulling away, she just sighs and falls forward.

You silently stand up and scan her body, watching her lay flat, arms beside her loosely as she lays limp on the bed.

You gently climb over her, your arms caging her in as your strap lays against her pussy as you whisper praises into her ear, she slowly grinds against you and your heart melts at how cute she is, you watch as you drag your tip along her folds, finally reaching her leaking hole sliding into her again, she tries to mumble something in response but she’s already too drunk on you to function as you slip into her a bit easier now, her hips are bucking away from you as you continue to stretch her out, your palm on her spine presses her to the bed as you continue to push yourself into her, you know she can handle you, she’s took you countless times before.

She sobs while squeezing her thighs together.

“Aww is it to much baby?”

She just whines into her pillow her face resting in her own drool.

“Yeah it’s too much, you can’t handle it.” You start to pull out but she arches her back hurriedly, trying to take your full length back in squealing at the stretch.

“Oh, you want it baby?”

“Mhmm” she squeeks into the pillow.

You kiss between her shoulder blades “so greedy” you laugh.

You start circling your hips to open her up, slowly easing yourself out at the same time till you’re barely inside her anymore, “love you Ellie” you mutter into her ear as your palm presses into the bottom of her spine to still her again and your forearm wraps around her throat.

You ram your full length into her and she cries out as one of her hands come up to your arm and claws at it “shh, it’s okay mama I got you” you slam into her again, hearing her pussy squelch “mhmm taking me so well angel” you coo as you slowly pick up your pace, slamming into her at a steady rhythm, your pelvis slapping against her ass.

At this point her legs are moving in all directions, her back arching then rounding just trying to get some space in her pussy that’s so full, you only ram into her faster, wet slapping sounds filling the room as you tilt your head and place a kiss onto her neck “doing so well for me mama” you fuck into her firmly with each word in your next sentence “so. so. well.”

Her eyes roll to the back of her head and she squeezes them close, her lashes glistening, you instantly missed her pretty eyes.

“Open your eyes, wanna see you” and you watch as she slowly opens her heavy eyelids, her glossy eyes meeting yours as you pick up your pace even more, your headboard beating against your wall as a cute pout forms on her lips her eyes close again letting cute little tears steam along her blushed cheeks, she’s gasping for air as she stutters out “c-close, so u-uh so so-” her stupid babbling is cut of when you lift your hand from her spine, holding your weight on your other palm as you reach down to rub her clit.

Her body is jerking as she mumbles fuck under her breath over and over. Your movements are met with resistance as her cunt clamps onto you, the base rutting against your clit has you moaning against her neck.

“Fuck fughh fffuck” she’s grunting out as her finger wrap around your wrist as you continue to toy with her clit, her other hands fingernails digging into the back of your hand besides her head “take it, take it, fucking take it” you’re babbling out as she literally sobs beneath you into your pillow, screaming in pleasure and in an instant your fingers are soaked in her release, she squeals as you continue to ram into her, tears still flowing from her eyes as her cum continues to spill out her like a faucet, soaking your sheets and harness.

You eventually slow down, gasping for breath as you lay against her, cock still inside her, your breasts pressed against her back “did so good for me baby” you mutter into the back of her neck. SILENCE. You trace your lips side to side on her skin “Ellie” you whisper. NOTHING. You pick your head up and look down at her face and she’s out, she’s alseep or passed out, you don’t even know at this point as you lean back pulling out her and see her soft features scrunch up and a little whine leave her lips.

You stand off the bed and admire the huge wet spot on your bedding, finally having peace to take in her pretty self as you take your harness off and crawl back onto the bed, laying besides her, tapping her cheek lightly, she only hums in response.

“I gotta change the sheets baby” you coo.

“No” she breathlessly whispers, eyes still close.

“No?” You laugh.

“Mhm” she hums, smiling and snuggling into her pillow.

You sigh crawling behind her and snuggling into her, smiling and placing a kiss on the back of her head, she giggles and wiggles her ass against your crotch as you roll your eyes, blushing and drawing soft circles into her waist, drifting off to sleep with her.

2nd pic cred to @astralnymphh , I found it on her Pinterest, check it out, it’s so cutee🩷(it’s the same name as her account)

@elliemontana @isitadinosaur @nibislily

#ellie williams #abby anderson #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie x y/n #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams smut #ellie smut #ellie the last of us #ellie x black!reader #ellie tlou #abby the last of us

1K notes · View notes

yanderenightmare · 3 months

Text

TW: suggestive nsfw

gn reader

Thinking about how you and your delinquent childhood friend couldn’t be any more different...

And yet you never seem to grow apart…

You’re fresh out of the shower, feeling toasty with a fluffy towel wrapped around your hair – another around your body.

You’re ready to lie down in bed and enjoy the rest of your Saturday night with a cup of tea while catching up with the new releases of that show you’ve been meaning to watch before the spoilers reach you.

The clock ticks about midnight, but it doesn’t really matter because you have the entire Sunday morning to sleep in – so you take your time, letting your chamomile soak before adding honey and a teaspoon of vanilla.

Your feet prickle against the shoddy floorboards – faux wood doesn’t carry heat very well, and the cold is beginning to seep through your soles post-shower – so you walk off to find your slippers.

But just as you’ve slipped them on, there’s a loud banging on your door.

“Oi! Open up!”

There’s no mistaking who it is.

You sigh.

“Go away, you’re drunk…”

There was a party tonight. But you didn’t go.

Though, you bet the boy on the other side of the door had gone and gotten kicked out and has now washed up here – right on your welcome mat.

He doesn’t relent, now kicking the door as well as banging his fist into it.

The pictures on the wall rattle from the force.

“Open the fuckin’ door," He's whining now. "Or I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll blow the whole street to hell!”

You curse under your breath at the sound of him howling, shuffling over to the drunken mood swings, then unlocking the three locks to let him in. Hissing beneath your breath as though the damage isn’t already done, “Shut up, you’re waking the entire block-”

He ignores you, grumbling, “Fuckin’ finally, ‘m freezin’ my balls off out’ere,” while pushing himself inside even when your plan was to tell him to piss off.

“I’m really tired,” You sigh, but he’s not really listening – fully ignoring you with a groggy grin as he looks down at you with lazy eyes and slurred words.

“Tch- look at yah – all wrapped up – lookin’ like a pastry.”

“Wah!” You yelp when he grabs you – lifting you up around his torso while stumbling forward to your bed – crashing down on the mattress with a content murmur – his face cradled in your chest.

“Just what I need right now…”

A little panicked – wearing but a towel you felt slipping from the fall – you try nudging him off, but he has his entire weight on top of you – soaking into your warm skin after having stood out in the chilly night air with nothing but a lousy shirt on.

You jolt with a squeal when he puts his freezing hands beneath your towel – squeezing into the soft, warm flesh of your thighs.

“Mh- you’re warm~” He rumbles in a drawl, traveling higher despite your whine. “Come on- don’t be stingy- m'gonna catch'a cold-”

You realize there’s not much you can do but accept it.

You huff, gritting your teeth. “Fine, you can stay.”

To which he just chuckles, placing his chin in the dip of your ribs while looking up at you with a sly grin. “You’re such a sucker.”

You frown, grimacing at the words wafting into your face.

“Ugh- you’re breath reeks. Go brush your teeth, at least. And take off your shoes.”

He pouts at your strictness, releasing a long, drawn-out sigh like a child.

But ultimately, he drags himself up.

“Mh-kay…” He kicks off his shoes, lets his pants drop into a heap, and wrings off his shirt on his way to the bathroom – calling back over his shoulder before he disappears into the room. “But we’re fucking after.”

You’re cheeks warm at his casualness.

You hear him flip the tap.

You purse your lips while sinking your teeth into the lower one. Smacking them at yourself.

You rubbed your hair dry and your thighs together until the sound of running water was interrupted by his toothbrush clinking against the sink – signaling he was done.

You were also ready and waiting by the time he walked out – your original plans for the evening already long lost in the heat.

But waddling back, he flops right onto the bed, like deadweight – on his stomach, snoring almost just as quickly with drool dribbling down into a blotch on your pillow.

He’s fast asleep.

You gape. Blinking at him. And after realizing it wasn’t a joke, you scoff. “Hello?”

There’s no reply.

You close your mouth and raise your brows. Then sigh with your entire body while shaking your head.

You drape him with the duvet and scooch in beside him. A bit of a frown on your face as you look at him.

There’s toothpaste on his cheek.

You wipe it away with a wet thumb.

“Dumbass.”

BNHA – Bakugou, Dabi

JJK – Sukuna, Gojo, Toji

AOT – Eren

2K notes · View notes

kazvha · 2 months

Note

Hi, I saw your requests were open for the time being. I wanted to ask if you could write some headcanons (or anything really) about isagi, kaiser or noa from blue lock having a crush on gn reader. Like how would they fall for them, deal with their feelings and confess ? Thanks for considering, good day/night.

Summary: Them developing a crush on you

Including: Kaiser, Noa, Isagi

Notes: First time writing for them, sorry if they're ooc. Thanks for requesting!

MICHAEL KAISER

• Kaiser became aware of you for the first time when he bumped into you and didn't even spare you a look. Irritated, you scowled and mentioned how ugly his haircut was

• He only gave you a side glance and went on

• Since then, he began to notice your presence much more on the Bastard München campus

• He saw you when he bought a coffee in the cafeteria, he recognized you standing on the side of the football field while he was warming up; even after his taxing training he noticed you on his way to the dorms

• Kaiser isn't someone who shies away from conversation. When you became the assistant of his physiotherapist he had finally the opportunity to talk with you

• He already forgot about the bumping incident and conversed with you like he did with everybody else, a lot of self-absorbed remarks and snarky comments. And you didn't hesitate to bite back

• He was a bit friendlier with you than with everybody else though because you weren't his opponent on the field

• Eventually you warmed up to each other and the stinginess in your conversations toned down a little. Kaiser found himself looking forward to finding you around campus and agitating you

• He quickly realized that he had formed a crush on you. That's also when every conversation with you took a flirty spin. Kaiser was confident in himself, it would only be a matter of time until you fell for him

• Kaiser addresses you with so many silly pet names like "Süßkartoffel, Schnucki, or Bärchen"* instead of using your name

• He's generally touchy with people, but he became so much more touchy-feely with you after realizing his feelings

• Head resting on your shoulder to look at the document you're reading, hands around your waist just for fun, or even patting your head and messing up your hair :(

• Kaiser tries everything to sweep you off your feet and fluster you. When he's sure that you like him back, he immediately asks you out.

• "You like me right? I caught you staring at me multiple times these last few days," he smiles arrogantly and leans back with his hands behind his head as you stare at him with raised eyebrows. "Good for you that I like you too! Let's go out this weekend."

(* sweet potato, sweetie, little bear)

NOEL NOA

• You were the social media manager of Bastard München and had to talk to Noa multiple times throughout the week since he was the player who got the most likes and views on your posts and videos

• Noa had to do several challenges and Tiktok dances because of you. He thought that most of them were strange, but the rational part of him understood that his cooperation would be good for the team's publicity

• He was so bad at dancing and doing these challenges, you had to teach him every time you shot a new dance video

• Noa was very flustered every time you came up to his side and guided him with your hands on him, but he didn't let it show

• Over time he became used to your ideas and you two grew a little bond. He even developed a little crush on you. The thought of carrying out your ideas wasn't that bad anymore as long as he got to spend time with you

• He tried to reason why he liked you in the first place. Several things came to his mind: His heart beat faster every time you were near him. He had the desire to please you. When he was with you, there was always a slight smile on his lips

• Noa wouldn't say anything and continue like this for a year, to find out if his feelings were fleeting

• He didn't feel the need to be in a romantic relationship right now since his hands were full with football-related things. But if he still decided to pursue one, he wanted to be with the right person

• So when his heart remained unchanged after a year, he tried his luck and asked you out in one of your shootings

• "Let me be frank with you, I caught feelings for you. Could I take you out on a date, if that's okay?"

YOICHI ISAGI

• Isagi fell for you after you interviewed him. You didn't ask him superficial questions like every other reporter, but you understood his plays and asked him about his ambitions

• He was initially stunned by your questions but answered all of them with eagerness in his voice

• He was so giddy when you exchanged your contact info at the end of it

• Also when you texted him, asking him for another interview

• The next one had a more casual vibe to it. You two went out to the park and ate street food while you asked him various questions. You quickly became friends due to his open nature and it almost felt like a date...

• He became a nervous wreck every time before you met up and he asked his mom for advice on how to treat you like a gentleman

• Even when you two texted he probably would delete and rewrite his messages for like five minutes before actually sending them. His friends tease him because of that

• He definitely practiced his whole confession at home in front of the mirror and when the time to confess came, he quickly rattled his whole speech off before he started second-guessing himself

• "Look, I immediately thought there was a connection between us the moment we met. You understand all my plays, but you're not only engrossed in my football journey, you're interested in the real me too! So, yeah it's actually no wonder that I developed a crush on you... Do you think you could accept my feelings?"

617 notes · View notes

lauraneedstochill · 8 months

Text

Confess the longing you are dreaming of

summary: Aemond thinks the woman he has to marry is the most impudent and unsufferable he’s ever met. He’s also never wanted anyone so badly. pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Martell!reader (third person, no mention of Y/N) warnings: bantering and teasing, mentions of unpleasant sexual experience, praise kink (guess who’s got it), a dollop of softness, mild smut (... for starters ;) author’s note: couldn’t get the idea out of my head and spent a few sleepless nights writing this. I imagine her brothers as Pedro Pascal and Oscar Isaac ✨ words: ~8000 song inspo: Hozier — Better love

>>> Aemond isn’t present when the idea is voiced the first time — he has a hunch that his grandsire is to blame for that. No doubt, Otto was the one to plan it out, come up with arguments served with his persuasive tone. He’s always loved to make arrangements and strike deals, each one of them to play into his hands, and Aemond hates the thought of being just another pawn of his.

He is blindsided at the breakfast but it’s made sound carelessly mundane — as Otto puts down his cup, he throws him the proposal, the way one would leniently throw alms to the poor. And Aemond thinks he must’ve heard him wrong.

“Marry me to... Who?” the prince asks, hardly covering his surprise.

His grandsire directs his gaze at him, the old man’s mouth twitching into a condescending smile. Since Otto isn’t keen on idle talk, he tells him plainly:

“You’ve long been of age, Aemond, you know that,” his knife scratches the plate as he cuts the meat, his eyes not moving from the prince. “House Martell holds power, and we’ll be fortunate to have such allies. Besides,” he pauses to take a bite, and Aemond gets annoyed at waiting; Otto chews, then adds, “I’ve only heard good things about your bride-to-be. Wouldn’t you confirm, Ser Criston?”

The mention of the knight is unexpected to them both — Aemond turns his head to meet Ser Criston’s puzzled look. But the brunet effortlessly copes with his emotions:

“We met when she was just a kid. But I knew she’d grow into a fine lady,” he easily agrees. Mayhaps, too easily for Aemond’s liking so he makes a note to talk about it later on.

His grandsire only lets out a pleased hum. “Well, I’m under the impression she will make a good match for our prince,” and Aemond feels that Otto carefully picks each word, “She’s said to be both beautiful and smart, and known for being quite independent,” he’s usually so stingy with his praise, it’s worth its weight in gold.

But that is not what Aemond hears. The choice was made for him, and his rejection of it makes him paint a portrait less alluring — a pompous wayward woman raised in the traditions that are starkly different from his; and yet, it is expected of him to accept it freely. His wounded ego simmers at the thought.

“I’d add another word to that,” Aegon chimes in, half-drunk already, “Everyone knows the Martells to also be promisc—”

“Look who’s talking,” Otto glares at him, and Aegon shuts his mouth.

The word is left unsaid, only the meaning of it isn’t hard to guess, and Aemond feels embarrassment creeping up his cheeks and weighting down his chest. He deems himself an educated man, well-read and eager to put his knowledge to the test, but he has yet to learn of carnal pleasures. A memory is clawing out: him, ten-and-three and plied with wine, laid on a bed that smelled of sweat, a naked woman next to him. Despite her tireless attempts, he wanted none of it, and the repulsion made him sick — and then it made him hate the act itself.

He did go to the brothel through the years, tried watching, touching, looked at bodies of all sorts, only it felt like putting paint over a rotten wall. He felt constrained, and lacking in some way (perhaps, in many), and more so awfully incomplete. Not once he sensed a spark, a pleasure he would crave, and no amount of effort could help him fill the emptiness inside.

He quells the feeling, pushes in indifference instead, and glances briefly at his mother. She meets his eye but only grants him a faint smile, her own gaze lacking any protest.

“Her brothers wrote that they would visit in a fortnight,” Alicent peacefully explains. “It is our duty to ensure a royal welcome.”

“Brothers?” Helaena blithely chirps. “How many does she have?”

“Four but only two of them are coming,” Otto tells her softly, then looks at Aemond, adding in a voice more wily. “I am convinced they really want to see whom their dear sister is about to marry.”

He doesn’t spell it out but the implication can’t be clearer — Aemond must play the part and make a good impression. As if impressing just one stranger wasn’t tedious enough.

As if he isn’t vexed already by how unsuitable he finds her.

>>> Frustration grows in Aemond with each day, takes roots, and clogs up all his thoughts. Some other man would’ve been glad — he often heard that the Martells are quite the lovers. He can’t admit it to himself how much he’s bothered by his own misfortunes on the love field.

He bottles his emotions up and doesn’t utter any word of discontent, nor does he ever speak of the awaited visit. Although he makes just one exception.

“My grandsire mentioned that you knew her,” he reminds Ser Criston one day after training.

The knight nods. “I crossed paths with Quentyn, he’s the oldest. She used to come to watch us train.”

“What was she like?” Aemond carefully wonders.

Ser Criston ponders for a minute, polishing his sword. “She was a quiet little girl, kept to herself. A lot of boys were always chasing after her, and she paid them all no mind,” he smiles at the memory. “But I remember one of them who was... particularly pesky. His charms didn’t work on her so he got offended, rude, followed her around. She tolerated him for over a month. One morning, he was hassling her in the training yard, and she just took a spear laying nearby — and smacked him with no warning,” he shakes his head but it��s apparent that he isn’t judging. “She didn’t use the pointy end but she got him good. And then she told him that next time he would think twice about his actions. She was impressive for a ten-year-old,” he muses and puts the sword away, then turns to Aemond, giving him a wistful stare. “Frankly, I think that you will like her.”

He does, for just a second, as his mind rushes to paint the image of a fearless little girl; and then he mercilessly wipes that image off. Maybe in other circumstances, he could’ve found amusement in that story, but Aemond only huffs and thinks back to the list of all her traits he prematurely made up. He adds “rebellious” to that list, and his self-doubt is a venom that clouds his judgment. He’s in no rush to find a cure.

>>> Their ship arrives a few hours earlier than planned — and after the dock watchers break the news, the bustle begins. Maids, servants, guards all run and faff about the castle, the dining hall gets filled with smells and noises, plates and dishes clanking.

Aemond is not excited in the slightest.

He dresses up reluctantly, each piece of clothes only dampening his mood that’s been already sour for the past two weeks. He all but drags his feet into the dining hall and by the time he reaches it, he looks so grim that one may think the prince’s preparing for his death, no less.

The minutes fly too quickly for his liking — they barely have time to sit, his mother nervously toying with the tablecloth already, and then the guards rush to announce the guests. Surprisingly, she’s not among them. The prince thinks he should be relieved; deep down, there is a splash of worry fizzling in him.

Her brothers walk in calmly in a cloud of servants bearing gifts. Their kinship is immediately clear — both tall, broad-shouldered, and dark-haired, self-confidence subsisting in their every step. The oldest is distinguished by a touch of gray in his short beard, his gaze more focused, a slight smile plastered on his face. The other one shamelessly stares at every maid his eyes can catch.

“Your grace, it is a pleasure to finally meet you,” Quentyn reaches their table first, and Alicent walks down to greet them. He keeps his distance and his smile, his tone is measured. “We were so sad to learn that the King has fallen sick. But I can tell the Kingdom is in great hands. And —”

“Women’s hands do have a healing touch,” Oberyn smoothly interrupts, his accent a bit thicker, his voice honeyed. “I will prefer a Queen over a King at any given day. Unless, of course, your husband can compete with you in beauty... I somehow doubt that.”

A shade of disapproval grazes Quentyn’s face but Alicent is too amazed to notice. The compliment may come off as blunt but she still takes it well, her smile embarrassed yet sincere.

“I hope you will enjoy your stay,” she tells them humbly, then looks over the crowd. “But may I ask where is the lady we’ve been waiting for?”

“She made a stop on our way to catch up with an old friend,” Quentyn answers, ready to explain, “It’s been years since we’ve met Ser —”

“Still can’t believe he is the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard,” Oberyn chuckles. “I think it’s all the armor that makes it look like he poses a threat. But you may reconsider if you see him in the nude.”

This time, the older brother glares at him with warning, and there’s a lull in their conversation, while Aemond’s struggling to hear what made his mother’s cheeks so red, his mind nervously preoccupied with someone else —

her laughter enters first.

It’s bright and joyful, a sound so lovely it might be enough to crack up his restraint. But then he spots her, and it feels like his whole body flares up at the sight.

She’s walking with her hand under Ser Criston’s arm, and Aemond’s never seen a dress that covers so much but hides so little. It’s muted orange, floor-length, made of sumptuous silk, with two long slits along the sides, curves of her thighs beguilingly seen through. Her neck and arms aren’t covered, and the material is intricately stitched around her waist to show a few more glimpses of her sun-kissed skin. The waves of her long hair fall on her shoulders and frame her face, each feature of it striking but her lips stand out the most — full, plump, and reddish. Not once before Aemond found the thought of being kissed so tempting.

She doesn’t even turn her head to look at him. She’s talking to Ser Criston quietly, and he’s engaged in conversation, unusually relaxed. Their difference in age is obvious, and the knight seems like just another relative of hers, but an uneasy feeling still leaves a bite on Aemond’s chest. He can’t imagine her so carefree — so beaming and compliant — by his side. His jealousy tastes bitter like a stale wine.

He hears his brother let out a short laugh. “It’s not like they were fucking,” Aegon carelessly notes. “Please ease your outrage before she runs away.”

“I don’t remember asking for advice,” Aemond snarls.

“You do look like you need it,” the blond comments, then goes back to drinking.

She gracefully approaches them, her voice melodic like a murmur of a river. “Forgive me, your grace, for being late, I haven’t seen Ser Criston in some time,” she tells his mother. “He was once a dear friend of mine.”

“I only helped to shush away a few of your admirers,” the knight cackles, earning a smile from her.

“I hope you are making use of all his talents,” she says to the Queen, making her face flush right away.

She delicately moves on to another topic. “It is a pleasure to have you here, you must be tired from taking such a long trip.”

“We found it quite enjoyable,” Quentyn remarks politely. “The beautiful sights along the way are worth the journey, and your city has some great views too.”

“Can’t say I’ve heard great things about your food,” Oberyn grins. “Hence why we took the liberty to bring some of our own,” he signals to the nearest servant, who runs to open one of the trunks they carried. “The dornish fruits are also my sister’s weak spot.”

“As if you don’t gorge yourself on them!” she jests, letting go of Ser Criston’s arm at last. “My brother is a glutton, your grace, please excuse his manners in advance.”

“You can call me Alicent,” his mother corrects her warmly. “Only seems fair to continue this discussion at the table,” she slightly moves away to let the girl go first.

Aemond unintentionally stiffens and only when he stands up from his chair to greet her, she finally does look at him. In contrast to her countenance, her gaze is dark and piercing, and the prince is staggered by how unreadable it is. Her brothers glance at Aemond briefly — Quentyn is pensive, while Oberyn looks like he wants to bite his head off; neither says a word.

She’s seated to his right, and she leaves behind a trail of scent — apples and plums, and he can’t help but catch the movement of her hips under the flowing dress. The words all mash and fall apart, and he can’t pick a single one to strike up a conversation.

Aegon is sitting next to her, and his patience only lasts a minute. “Never knew Ser Criston was such a ladies' man.”

“I’m sure he succeeded on that front but we are merely good friends,” she answers calmly, keeping her eyes on servants bringing fruits — blood oranges and pomegranates, robust grapes, and ripened cherries.

“You two seemed more than friendly,” Aegon presses, his tone evidently taunting.

She picks a golden apricot and runs her thumb over its fragrant surface. “Maybe it’s the wine that makes you see things,” she rebuts and takes a bite out of the fruit, a drop of juice risking to escape her mouth but she wipes it swiftly with her finger. She catches Aemond looking, and his cheeks heat up.

“We’ve never seen him in the company of a woman,” the older prince points out, filling up his cup once more.

She takes out the kernel and eats up the fruit, her mouth glistens. “Aren’t the knights of the Kingsguard forbidden to marry?”

“Never stopped them from bedding whoever they like,” Aegon remarks crudely, and Aemond is thankful that their mother is too preoccupied with Oberyn’s tireless chatting.

“Maybe some men have the decency to follow orders,” she responds, unbothered, taking a cherry and clasping it with her lips. Aegon doesn’t seem to notice and only gulps the wine and rolls his eyes. Aemond can’t look away.

“Aren’t you Martells known for not following the rules? I thought unruly was in your house’s motto,” Aegon argues, a corner of his mouth curled in a smirk.

She takes another cherry, the third in a row, her lips already stained with juice. “I think you keep getting your facts wrong,” she brushes him off, and Aegon goes to object some more but spills the wine right on his shirt. The displeased cry brings Aemond out of his trance.

“He tends to do that when he’s drunk,” the one-eyed prince coolly interjects.

Her eyes flicker to him, then she fully turns her head. “So you can actually talk,” her teasing comes off soft but her gaze still burns. “It’s good to know.”

“You seemed preoccupied with someone else,” he musters an excuse.

“Do you expect your wife to never speak to other men?” her voice almost betrays her disenchantment.

“No,” Aemond quickly answers, caught unawares by how strained his thinking process is. “She— you are free to choose your friends, of course.”

“I’m flattered,” her tone suggesting otherwise, “Not that I would ask for anyone’s approval,” she reaches for a plum; he closes his eye with a sigh.

Aegon comes to stand in between them on the pretext of needing another carafe of wine: “I didn’t mean to interrupt your friendly bickering, please continue.”

“It seems like Aemond isn’t in the mood for talking,” she doesn’t look at him, the tip of her tongue darting to lick her finger. “And I am never in the mood for begging.”

“My brother’s hospitality leaves much to be desired,” Aegon takes a sip. “So I regret the disappointment you are soon to suffer,” his hand falls on her chair. “But if you ever wish to be... well satisfied, all you have to do is ask me”.

It’s hard to tell if Aegon’s actually that drunk or merely provoking (or if he’s got a death wish, Aemond wonders).

She replies without much thought. “Well, if I ever find myself in need of...,” she trails off with a smile but her gaze gets harsh — her words then follow, “My choice won’t fall on you,” the smirk falls off Aegon’s face, and she glances straight at Aemond, adding, “I like them taller.”

But her straightforwardness is met with his resistance, with the deep-rooted unacceptance of his lurking needs. He adds “indecent” to the list, and they speak no more.

>>> Her boldness doesn’t pose a problem to anyone but him. To his surprise (or more so to his shock), his mother gives in first.

The morning can’t come fast enough for Aemond after he spends the night tossing and turning. A few hours later he rushes to the garden for a walk, overwhelmed by restlessness his training didn’t help him cope with. That’s when he sees it — a spot of yellow shining through the trees. He somehow knows it’s her without further confirmation but still, his feet carry him on.

Her dress is vivid like a field of marigolds, her hair plaited, wrists adorned with golden bracelets. He slackens pace and peers into her — and he wants nothing more than to drink her up, her whole appearance is the sweetest nectar... Until he hears another sound and realizes she is not alone, and it’s his mother sitting by her side, wrapped in her favorite green and, unexpectedly, in glee. He can’t remember when he saw her laugh like this — out loud, giggling, tears at the corners of her eyes are not from sadness but from joy.

“My dear, that is so improper! Did he apologize at least?” Alicent inquires with a smile.

“Oberyn rarely does,” she tells her serenely. “His lover looked way more ashamed. I hope each of your rooms has locks, gods know I don’t want to walk in on him again.”

Unlike his mother who is covered by the shade of trees, she’s bathing in the sun, the soft light caressing her skin, and Aemond’s eye greedily follows every ray. In barely a minute he feels warm all over.

“I hope that Aemond’s chambers got locks too,” she adds all of a sudden, a bit louder, and his chest is splashed with cold.

His eye moves to her face, and she’s already looking at him, direct and daring. He knows he’s hidden by the trees but there’s no hiding from her gaze.

Aemond turns away and steps back in haste, his abashment mixed with grievance at her implication. He believes someone like her would never lust for him, and her jokes at his expense not only hurt but prompt his resentment to grow stronger. He adds “deceptive” to the portrait of her he is so adamantly set on painting.

>>> She wins Helaena’s heart with ease. His sister fondly compliments her brooch — a little poppy made out of gold — and she gifts it to Helaena the same day. The silver-haired princess grabs at chance to show her own collection, and they spend the day looking through the jewels spread over the floor, sitting right there and equally amused.

And that’s how Aemond finds them. He only planned to see his nephews but hearing her voice coming from Helaena’s chambers makes him slow his step.

“... And this one he gave me for my latest name day,” Helaena babbles cheerfully.

“Aemond clearly spoils you,” she laughs without a shade of envy. “As he should!”

“He is very kind at heart,” Helaena eagerly assures her. “You will be happy with him, I am certain of it.”

There is a pause that makes him feel uneasy, makes him sneak up closer to the room.

“I do believe he’s not an evil man,” she finally says, “Maybe he just wasn’t made for marriage.”

Surely she can’t see him through the door but he can swear that he feels her gaze, like a silent challenge, a hidden mocking. He barges in without a knock.

Helaena beams. “We were just talking about you!”

His sister’s dress is milky blue, modestly pretty, and loosely fitted. It’s also treacherously pale compared to the liquid gold the Martell girl is dressed in. She’s sitting with her feet under her thighs, the bending of her back is bare and in plain sight. He should’ve walked away the second he heard the sound of her voice because not looking at her seems impossible.

“Oh, you came to see the twins? They are with Aegon but I can call— No, I will bring them back myself,” Helaena springs to her feet, rosy-cheeked and smiley, and leaves the room before Aemond can protest. And then it’s just the two of them.

He takes a breath and makes an effort, with his jaw tense and his blood rising, to drag his eye away from her. It feels as pointless as ignoring sunlight in an open field on a summer day. Only her beauty is more brazen — and so is her wit.

“I take it, gold isn’t your favorite color,” she speaks up with an impish tone. “Would be a bad idea to wear it on our wedding then.”

She never comes too close, always just a little out of reach, and yet he feels as if her presence grips him, weakening his will. He doesn’t want to be with her until he is — and then he has no wish to leave.

It scares Aemond as much as it spikes his anger.

“Why did you agree to come?” he bristles.

“You are not asking about your sister’s chambers, are you?” she clarifies, and he hears her smiling.

He tells himself he only needs to cast a glance to check.

He does — he meets her gaze — her earrings catch the sunlight and cast a trail of glares — the scattering of specks play on her skin, her neck and collarbones, sneak to her upper chest — his own is heaving. His struggle only lasts a moment but it leaves him short of breath. He isn’t looking anymore, his eye trying to discern the pattern on the drapes behind her.

“Our marriage, how do you benefit from it?” he hates how hard it is to control his voice.

And how she watches him intently without giving him a clue of what’s on her mind.

“I plan on visiting my family a couple of times a year. It will be easier to do on dragon back,” she doesn’t sound spiteful when she says it but her words still sting.

He can’t stop an image flashing through his mind: her on top of Vhagar, lungs full of air, pressed to him. It’s tempting — to have her in his hands, and yet the vision is too intangible to cling to. Instead, he thinks that in just three days she learned to play him like a harp, his years' worth of self-control is merely a sand castle against the tide of her sharp tongue.

He only snickers dryly at her reply, then they both hear the sound of running footsteps. Jaehaera and Jaehaerys rush to greet him — but almost instantly abandon, the kids' attention drawn to the shining golden dress.

He thinks “unruly” suits her better than does “pompous”. He comes up with a fake excuse to leave; the image of her stays with him.

>>> He picks more adjectives as the week goes on — she’s audacious, disobedient, wanton. She moves around the castle as if she owns every room she’s in. She wears less, and even on rare occasions when she doesn’t, her defiance more than compensates for it. She never shies away from a deep neckline, nor does she feel the need to hold back her resounding laughs. Her jewelry clinks, each of her dresses is brighter than the other, but it’s her wicked mouth his eye always falls on first.

More times than not, Aemond can’t tear his gaze away, each meal for him now both a torture and a feast.

He watches as she parts her lips, puts them around a luscious grape, a cherry, or a peach, she swipes her tongue to lick up every running drop, savoring its tang — and keeps eye contact with him. He barely can taste the food he’s eating, and no wine can quench his thirst, his body flooding with a feeling he can’t define, his heart adrift.

He tries to fight it off with all our strength. He scratches off “unruly” to write down “unabashed” instead.

But then the dinner comes, and even though he’s never had a taste for sweets, he thinks he’d eat them from her lips (deep down, he wants to). The lies he tells himself are brittle like the flesh of fruits under her teeth.

>>> He comes to think “insufferable” fits her the best. That thought rings in his head while he is standing in the stable, his eye on anything but her. He was informed she wished to pick a horse, and he begrudgingly agreed to come, only to keep up the pretense.

What turns out to be much harder is for him to keep restraint. The dress she’s wearing might as well be a chemise — it’s just as light and white, and much to his discomfort, it also tirelessly risks hiking up to expose more of her legs.

Discomfort, mayhaps, isn’t the right word for it.

He stays out of her way but, unsurprisingly, he ends up looking — at how she walks, spring in her step, swinging her hips. She gives each horse a piece of apple and feeds them by hand, strokes their muzzles, and then she mounts and rides them, one by one. She grabs the reins, her foot easily finds the stirrup, and as she swings her leg over the saddle, her dress slips up, showing a few inches of her skin.

He swallows thickly, glances more intently — over her dainty ankles, bending of her knees, he notes how smooth her skin is, soaking up the sun. Her dress then billows slightly, and his eye glides higher, hungry, follows up the contour of her thighs that bounce a little as the horse gallops.

He feels it blooming — a sensation with no name that travels from the lower chest down to his very navel, then spreads and tightens all that’s underneath.

He is so deep in his enthrallment, he doesn’t hear the steps approaching until there’s someone standing next to him. Quentyn stays silent for a minute, throwing him a sideways glance.

“My sister’s always been terribly picky,” the man says out of the blue, “And usually it’s hard to meet all of her demands,” — it doesn’t seem like it’s the horses he is talking of. The vagueness of it makes Aemond focus as he takes his eye off her but Quentyn doesn’t elaborate, giving him a smile instead. “I do admit, your patience is commendable. Some other man would’ve already interfered just to wrap the process up.”

“I was under the impression she doesn’t need anyone’s help,” Aemond replies evasively.

“You guessed it right,” Quentyn titters, his tone veiled with the same unclear meaning when he adds, “The only thing left for us all is to accept it,” and with that, he goes to join his sister.

When Aemond — tamely, almost yielding — takes a peek at her, his gaze collides with Oberyn’s who clearly watched them talk. Unlike his older brother, he prefers to stay away, but the mischief in him pairs really well with danger. He grants Aemond a nod, switching attention back to her, his threats unspoken for the meantime.

For just a second, it gives Aemond pause as he finds it odd that no one brings up their wedding, and no announcements have been made ever since she came. He doesn’t mull over it for long because her laughter interrupts his thoughts (or maybe he just yearns for any chance to look at her). She rides around the yard, her hair floating in the wind, a little breathless but breathtaking, her lips enticing and her curves making his throat dry.

He tries to ground himself, to look for explanations, for some reprieve from the entrancing spell he’s under — he’s never been so close to losing reason —

out of the corner of his eye, he sees a couple of guards dropping their gaze in poor attempts to stop themselves from gawking; it reins his passion, bringing back his jealousy instead. He’s way too used to seeing himself unworthy to even entertain the thought of having her, and his denial prickles. He wants to burn his feelings out, and anger helps with that — it breaks out and engulfs him fast, hardening both his heart and gaze.

“Quentyn is the friendliest of the two, and you couldn’t hold a conversation?” Aegon appears out of nowhere, seemingly displeased despite the bottle in his hand. “Must you always be so gruff? I stayed behind in hopes you’d make it work!” he waves at Oberyn then glares at Aemond, waiting for a reply. “Are you pretending to be deaf or...?”

“Must she test my patience?” Aemond mutters, his tone not jealous but exasperated, his eye boring into her, “Putting herself out like that for all the men to see.”

Aegon being speechless is a rare sight. He cannot fathom it at first, looking from Aemond back to her, confusion sobering him up. And then he grins, realization creeping up on him; there are some things he’s always quick to notice.

“It’s funny that you say that,” he leans in to tell him and catches Aemond’s gaze, “Since it’s just you who’s staring,” Aegon pats him on the back and leaves to greet her brothers.

Aemond tries to choke it down — his irritation and his shame combined, but it’s too much for him to handle, his head and heart clearly in conflict. He doesn’t wait for her to make a choice, retiring without sparing her a glance (a fear nibs at him that if he looks at her once more, he will stay rooted to the ground).

He doesn’t leave his chambers for the remainder of the day, dining all alone and fuming all the same. He’s usually good at curbing his emotions but he is having trouble understanding them, wanting nothing more than to erase all memories of her. But even in his solitude, he catches himself thinking — about her cunning smile and swaying hips, her eyes on him, his hands wanting to roam and touch and —

Aemond shoves unwanted thoughts away and goes to bed earlier than usual. He remains steadfast in his resolve to find some peace, he makes a conscious effort to shift his focus to all the boring, random things his mind can come up with until he is too tired to care.

But then he falls asleep, and his subconscious welcomes her. He sees her right before his eye in that obscenely short white dress, there are no people in the yard, her tantalizing moves all meant for him. She hops off her black horse and walks to him without a single word — anticipation makes him drop his guard and hold his breath — and then he feels her lips on his, her body pressing into him, his hunger for her ruining his self-control, the kiss is searing, suffocating, driving him insane, his fingers pulling up her dress —

he wakes up painfully aroused.

He lays in bed, his heartbeat rushing, his breathing ragged, and vision blurred. While he’s still grasping for the remnants of his dream, he sneaks his hand into his breeches, wishing he could rip her dress off and sheath himself inside her, spread her on his bed, and drink every salacious sound she makes... It only takes him a few strokes to spill over his fingers; he can’t remember if he’s ever reached his peak so fast.

And only then, as he comes down from his high, it hits him, like lightning in the dark — in spite of her remarks, her audacity, her dresses, and every cruel adjective he’s found for her, he’s never wanted anyone so badly. Aemond sits up abruptly, his sleep gone, giving way to stubbornness that comes hand in hand with reticence. He persuades himself that he’ll suppress this — the spark, the pleasure that he craves, and he won’t be a slave to his desires.

He’ll rid himself of feelings, of this lust. Inevitably it will wane.

>>> It doesn’t.

Desire is a guest that never leaves, unwanted but demanding space, attention, time. It slips into his thoughts the moment he wakes up, it whispers in his ears, never giving up, it’s layered in between his clothes and his skin. He hides it well from everyone; it lodges deeper into him.

Desire is a cherry in her mouth, each fruit she bites in, savors, drinks the juice from. He doesn’t want to watch — he can’t take his eye off her, caught in his fervor like in undertow, the flavor of her lips the only one he truly yearns for.

Desire bruises more than does a hit, cuts deeper than a blade, and there’s no weapon he can fight it off with. His training brings him no relief, and he can’t sweat it out or wash it off him, and even while he soaking in a bath, it feels like longing only rises back with steam.

Desire waits for him at night, stands by his bed, slides right under the covers with him. He dreams of her, and in those dreams, her body sings under his every touch, trembles from his praise, his hands and mouth paint her with marks and kisses. He wakes up with his chest aflame and out of breath, and then it takes all of his willpower not to crawl to her.

It staggering how much he really wants her, and he hates himself for it.

>>> It’s been three weeks and they have barely shared a word. He does his best to cut down their encounters and avoid her, he doesn’t argue and takes no offense, he hopes that if he pulls back just enough she will give up and let him be.

Aemond spends his evenings in the study, his table piled with books, and for a couple of hours, it does help to take his mind off things. The night already steals in while he’s searching through the shelves for scrolls, too caught up in the process to pick up the creaking of his door.

Her gaze nearly scalds him. He only looks up out of surprise — and then he freezes at the spot, his heart a stone that plummets to his stomach.

Out of everything she’s worn, this dress might be the one to bring him to his knees — the cutting out the front so low, his eye falls in the hollow between her breasts; he envies fervently the golden chain that rests there. He takes in her whole body, bare arms, and flaunting forms, all clad in deep dark green. He’s never seen her pick that color (and he can’t help but think she put it on for him).

He’s brought back from his stupor when their eyes meet — and startled by the determination in her gaze.

“Ser Criston told me that you missed your training,” she stately starts walking toward him, “Quite a few times this week.”

“I found myself preoccupied with other things,” he clears his throat and clasps his hands behind his back, the scrolls forgotten.

“With reading, I assume?” she almost sounds aggrieved (he wants to ask what else she’d rather have him do) but then her tone gets jaunty. “Would you mind if I join?”

“Actually, I would,” Aemond takes his eye off her, his coldness feigned. “I’d like to avoid distractions.”

And more than anything, he would like for her to leave; she’s not the one to give up so easily. “Maybe we can learn some things together?” she nonchalantly insists, and that ambiguity — deliberate or not — leaves his face suffused with pink.

“I highly doubt you take interest in the things I study,” he manages, his crudeness biting his own tongue.

She only sneers, already nearing his table. “You surely rush to judgment.”

“And I am never wrong.” (Although he’s been wrong once before.)

“That’s very humble of you.” (And she’s tenacious with her intent to prove him wrong again.)

“I am surprised you know that word,” he replies too hastily — and instantly regrets his outburst.

And his attempts to get away from her could’ve been valiant, but only left him feeling like a coward.

She’s got enough courage to spare. “Oh, my apologies, did I strike a nerve?” her hip grazes a stack of books. “You sound so displeased with my behavior,” she puts her hands right on his table, her cleavage in full view.

“You interrupted my studies,” he’s looking only at her face.

“Just this one time,” she clears up, her sly smile is a dare, “Sounds like you have quite a few complaints.”

Damned be her dress and the day he laid his eye on her. “It’s clear as day that we have nothing in common,” he hisses, her persistence molding his anger. “From your bawdy humor to your reckless behavior and your...,” he struggles to push the word through his mouth, “vulgar dresses — everything suggests that we will never make a good couple.”

He catches a gleam in her gaze but it’s not threatening nor hurt — and when the corners of her mouth curl up, her face expression actually looks amused. “I didn’t realize my presence tormented you that much,” she crosses arms over her chest, her hands under her breasts; he looks away that very instant. “So will it please you if I take my vulgar dresses and go back home and leave you be?”

He wants to say it will — he’s thought of it for days — but now he isn’t sure. The dreams he has of her will hardly be enough as every image he collected has got nothing on the real form.

“Is there anything that does?” she asks him suddenly and takes a step in his direction, and then another one.

Belatedly, he realizes that he’s backed against the wall. The air in the room heats up, and Aemond moves back to his table, fingers holding to its edge to find some balance. “...Does what?”

“Please you,” she swiftly clarifies, now standing at arm’s length.

“That isn’t any of your concern,” he wants to glance away and yet, his eye is drawn to her.

“I am inclined to disagree,” her lips stretch into a smile. “Shouldn’t a wife know how to make her husband feel good?”

“We are not married yet,” he tries to argue weakly.

“I’d like to learn beforehand,” but her assertiveness works quicker than his doubts.

The time is still, and seconds drag like hours. His heart leaps at the thought of being all alone with her, his concentration crumbling, his self-restraint already hanging by a thread.

“The way you look at me suggests you aren’t averse to the idea,” she tells him in a low voice, her eyes two glowing embers. Aemond gulps, she deftly rounds the table. “You act so cold and so collected,” she muses, coming closer, and he helplessly steps back. “But I am yet to meet a man who would deny himself the pleasure of laying with a woman,” her voice is warm and warming; his legs bump into the chair, prompting him to sit.

He hesitates for barely a moment but his quick reaction fails him because the next thing he knows, she’s standing next to him, her golden chain casting a blinding glint — he blinks — and then she’s straddling him, her thighs on either side of his.

Aemond’s mouth falls slack as he becomes aware: to lift her he will have to touch her. He glances down at her legs that sneaked out through the long slits of her dress, all bare to the very hips before him.

“I wonder if you are too spoiled by the attention of the ladies? Mayhaps you’ve got so satiated, the intimacy doesn’t bring you any joy,” she runs her fingers up his chest.

He only finds it in himself to shake his head. She isn’t satisfied with that reaction. “Or do you simply find it boring and have a taste for something else?”

Objection bubbles in his throat but he gets no chance to voice it — he barely registers a clinking sound before he feels cold steel pressed under his chin, her fingers wrapped around the hilt of his own dagger. He meant to leave it at the training yard but it completely slipped his mind.

“Does this work better? I’ve heard that you Targaryens have peculiar tastes,” her other hand lands on his shoulder, his chest is stirring with emotions he can’t read.

“That’s not— No,” he mumbles, his voice raw, the weight and feeling of her body overwhelming.

She cocks her brow at him in disbelief. “No? So it’s just plain old satiation then?” she makes no attempt to press the blade but her questions do get pushy. “Must be so hard when women throw themselves at you ever since you were... What was it, ten? Twelve years of age?”

He would expect her to sound teasing — instead, he hears disappointment. That’s the reaction he is used to getting.

“My brother took me to a pleasure house when I was ten-and-three. He said it’s time to get it wet,” he forces out, “And it was...,” awful and humiliating, something he wishes to forget, “...Not what you are describing.”

Her face expression changes — first surprised, then splashed with sadness, and her every feature softens. Aemond sees her opening her mouth to speak but he averts his gaze, abasement scrabbling at him. His eye falls closed, and he keeps thinking that now she will get up and leave, and there won’t be any wedding, and he’s got no reason to get so overly upset already, and —

she sheathes his dagger without a word, the unexpected movement making him breathe out.

And then she dips her head down, and her lips fall on his jaw. Aemond inhales sharply. Her mouth feels softer than it was in all his dreams, and she plants kisses down his throat, moving to the part of it the blade was pressed to. He doesn’t know where to put his hands while hers lock nimbly around his neck.

She pulls back slowly, and he dares to look at her again, trying to catch the merest shadow of pretense but there is none.

“I am truly sorry that you had to go through that,” she tells him quietly. “Have you tried some more since then?”

“I did,” his answer comes off hurried, blank, “I... I am aware of how the act is done.”

“How the act is done? Aemond, that doesn’t sound enjoyable at all,” she pouts, then gently caresses his face, her voice a tender whisper when she adds, “But it should be.”

He stiffens, waiting for the discomfort to wake up, for the aversion to coil his guts, to trigger the jarring need to move away. None of that happens. Instead, he feels her fingers running through his hair, a calming motion bringing only comfort, her every touch relieving tightness in his chest.

“You seem too tense... We have to work on that,” she joyfully murmurs. “Unless, of course, my worry causes you distress,” her fingers stop, “Do you want me to leave, my prince?”

“No,” he rasps, he almost pleads, “D-don’t.”

She hums with satisfaction, bringing her hands down to unclasp his leather doublet, knowing she won’t meet any resistance. He should resent her for this but he doesn’t (he didn’t and he won’t). The air lays cold over his shirt, and Aemond shivers; she moves her fingers down his firm chest with an unspoken admiration.

“Tell me how it usually goes,” she inquires, one of her hands finding its way back to his silver locks. “Do you find pleasure in undressing them?”

Her warmth envelopes him, scented with cinnamon and peaches. “They come without much clothes,” Aemond blurts out, earning another hum from her.

“And what about you?” she glances curiously at him.

“I don’t... I don’t like them touching me,” he timidly avows, and saying it to her does bring somewhat of a relief.

With both of her hands, she cradles his face, thumbs gently contouring his cheeks — he all but melts into her palms. “And yet you are so responsive to the touch,” her voice praises, “So pretty.”

She leans in again, leaving a kiss at the hollow of his throat — and then her mouth travels up, ardent and steady, and he squirms in place. Not out of discomfort.

“You are not supposed to rush it if you want it to feel good,” she whispers in his ear and moves back to catch his gaze. “You never rush into fighting so why love making should be any different?”

Astonishment brightens his face, and she chuckles lightly. “I must confess, I did enjoy watching you train, even though you never noticed. The way you move and twirl your sword,” she’s recollecting breathy, “You are so lithe and fast and so resistant... An infatuating sight.”

She holds his gaze and lifts her hand — he follows it, unblinking, until it finds one of the straps — she hooks it with her fingers. “Fairly soon it made me wonder how would your hands feel... on me,” his heart jolts at her words.

Slowly, she moves the strap aside, baring her breast for him; Aemond’s breathing hitches. She takes his hand in hers, planting a kiss over his knuckles — and then lets his fingers graze her naked skin.

“It was so cruel of you to rob me of my pleasure,” she laments, but he can barely hear a thing, his eye wide as he fixes on the soft swell of her breast, on how her nipple peaks so eagerly under his touch.

She guides his hand over her chest, down to her ribs and waist, letting him brush her every curve, placing his fingers firmly on her hip. And then she reaches for his other hand and lowers the other strap; his body trembles. The layers of his reticence are all peeled at once, leaving his desire raw and undisguised, unshackled. He’s drawn to fondle, clutch at her plump breasts but her grip is tight and taunting, not letting his fingers roam free.

Still, when both his hands sink into her hips, he realizes that he’s getting harder by the second.

It doesn’t go unnoticed by her. With a controlled, torturously slow move she drags her clothed core over his straining cock. His mouth stays closed but there’s a sound — a muffled moan caught in his throat.

“Doesn’t this feel good?” she teases, lightly tugging on his hair, her lips reaching the column of his neck. “With how much you read, I hoped you’d be more generous with words,” each of her kisses weightless like a drop of rain but then her mouth finds a spot below his ear and suckles at it, pulling a whimper from his chest.

He thinks he should... his mind goes blank after another movement of her hips, and she picks up the pace, merciless and sensuous. He tries biting down his moans but only hurts his mouth. She notices, her rapt eyes on him, and puts her finger on his lower lip:

“Please, don’t be shy with me,” she coos, her gentle touch soothing his bitten flesh, “Our desires coincide,” she earnestly affirms him — and the spark erupts and drags him into pure bliss.

He feels that his arousal leaks, his breeches way too tight to hide it, his fingers dig into her supple skin, but she gives no complaints. He watches breathlessly through his hooded eyelid as she grinds against him, then looks over her bouncing breasts, her nipples pebbled, and the pressure curls somewhere down his spine. She peppers him with kisses — the angles of his face, neck, everything that she can reach, except for his desirous mouth. And yet the softness of her lips and hands, her skin that’s draped with the redolent scent, the rhythm of her hips all bring him closer to the edge.

Her forehead is pressed to his, their lips an inch away but never fully touching. “Let go for me,” she says against his mouth, “My handsome, fierce dragon.”

That does it for him. He harshly presses her to him, then shudders with a strangled moan and comes undone, his eye squeezed shut as her name quivers in his mouth. The pleasure whirls him in and leaves him drained and stunned, a little bit light-headed.

It takes Aemond a minute to recover before he finds her gaze again — and in another minute he discerns her shallow breaths, her parted lips, brows slightly furrowed. He wants to ask her if she reached her peak, if he can help her with it —

but she pulls back.

She stands up and only briefly grabs his shoulder, steadying herself, then promptly puts the straps back on, fixing her dress. He wants to lend a hand but she moves it away, leaning in to lightly caress his face. “No, you don’t get to have me yet. I want you to admit it first, to say that you want me,” her words are laced with dignity but cooling to his mind.

She steps back, cruelly fast, the only consolation is her naughty tone. “Until then, I have to satisfy myself some other way. But I will think of you while doing it, my dear prince,” she promises, a ghost of a smile on her lips, and then walks out without looking back.

The silence feels unwelcome in the room and hangs over the ceiling like a cloud, but Aemond he is too dazed to move, spent and perplexed to wrap his head around it.

Desire, it seems, has come to stay.

But it’s not the only thing he’s feeling.

✧... YES, there will be a second part, it’s already in the works! ✧ and yes, I didn’t bother to rename Pedro’s character 'cause I adore Oberyn sue me

✧ just to clarify, I usually age Aemond up to 20 (or however old Ewan looks to you ;) ✧ I got inspired after watching the video for ROSALÍA’s “La Fama” (give it a watch, she is soooo 🥵) but I only found it because of this gorgeous gifset so shout-out to OP for giving me inspiration

✧ my recent fic (couples who kill together, stay together 🔥) ✧ my masterlist

thank you @amiraisgoingthruit for letting me tag you in every silly story of mine, hope you’ll like this one (if anyone else wants to be tagged, don’t be shy)

English is not my first language, so feel free to message me if you spot any major mistakes. reblogs and comments are very much appreciated!

2K notes · View notes

genshin-obsessed · 4 months

Text

You smack his butt!! | HSR

This started as a joke between my friend and I but I think I took it too seriously. As you know, our genshin and star rail husbands have the best booties and yanno, I kinda would smack them. So! This is you, doing just that!

Just a short thingie: sorry for the lack of updates, I suffer from chronic headaches and they absolutely ruin my days sometimes. Those days, I can’t do anything and they’ve been lasting longer than usual nowadays. I’m good now!

Characters: Dan Heng, Jing Yuan, Blade, Luka, and Argenti

▻ Dan Heng

He’ll let out a yelp if he didn’t expect it. His eyes widen and they immediately shoot to you.

You just shrug, throw out a comment about his butt looking great today and just walk away like it didn’t happen.

He stands there stunned for a good 2 minutes before he goes on his way.

Doesn’t realize it but he’s just a bit more confident after that. So please, do it again.

▻ Jing Yuan

He has and will do it back. His first reaction is usually “woah!” And then he’ll just laugh at it.

As we have previous discussed, Jing Yuan is a very touchy husband. He will grab your butt every time he gets the chance. It’s his. You’re his. Don’t be stingy.

Jing Yuan actually loves it when you slap his butt. It’s a confidence booster.

Come on. Do it again, you know you wanna.

▻ Bladie

“What the hell!?” His eyes widen and he immediately looks back at you, unsure if he was hallucinating or not.

It’s usually hilarious. So you’ll laugh, apologize and hug him, and gently pat his butt which makes him stiffen.

It’s not that he hates it. Not at all. It’s just so unexpected! Like, you don’t do it every day. It’ll just be a random smack so he’s never expecting it.

No, he likes it. It’s fun. It’s cute. Just make sure it’s in private and not in front of others or it’ll fluster him and he’ll be a little irritated.

▻ Luka

Ahahahaha

It’s ass slapping war now! He will get you back every single time +1 extra. He is a lot more careful, so he doesn’t hurt you. But he’s getting you back.

Luka finds it the cutest thing and will question anyone who questions it. “You let them slap your butt?”/ “duh, it belongs to them. Of course they can.”

Best to do it before a fight, it just makes him feel great. He’ll win even faster after that.

▻ Argenti

Very unexpected but he has to admit, he kinda likes it. You’re already special enough so why not?

Isn’t used to it, unsurprisingly, but does eventually become accustomed. You don’t do it every single day, but he has noticed it becoming more and more common.

He’s taken after you. If he sees a good opportunity, he will give you a gentle smack. Very gentle. More like he grabbed it as he stepped closer to you.

He won’t ever reel his arm back. Never. That would hurt you so he tends to be overly gentle than risking hurting you.

#dan heng x reader #jing yuan x reader #blade x reader #luka x reader #argenti x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #gender neutral reader #🖊─ pocky’s writings

544 notes · View notes

srslyscary · 2 months

Text

things they’ve said // ot8

things bf!skz has said to you

Including: bang chan, changbin, hyunjin, lee know, seungmin, han, felix, jeongin

Bang Chan

; “you’re too cute for this world, Y’know?”

; “don’t doubt yourself babe. you’re amazing in my eyes.”

; “not every day do you get to wake up to a gorgeous gal.”

; “I know it’s late, but check out this track I made— yeah it’s about you, what about it babe?”

; “stain my face with your pretty lips baby, I want everyone to know I belong to you— yeah with that new lipstick you bought, it’s a cute color. perfect for complimenting my face.”

; “i have seven kids and now they’re also YOUR seven kids.. deal with it, hah.”

; “you’re shorter than me, so your love capacity isn’t as strong as mine. it’s physically impossible for you to love me more babe.”

; “I can’t take my eyes off you. you’re just too pretty— I’m not trying to be creepy!— no— Y’know what I just won’t look at you then.. hehe.”

; “you deserve the universe.”

; “it’s kind of hard to unlove you sweetheart.”

; “it’s only been 2 minutes how do you already miss me.”

; “baby all I wanna do is see you. and do you.— just kidding… or am I?”

; “my goal is to keep you happy all the time.”

; “I love you because you’re the best. intellectual wise I REALLY would hate for someone to touch you lovingly like I do.”

; “excuse the fact that we’re locked in for life and you can’t go anywhere without me- HAHA.”

; “I got addicted to you very easily.”

; “I think I’m just in love with everything you do.”

; “I love you. I don’t think I said that enough today.”

Changbin

; “y’know what we should do? go have a picnic and watch the sunset. wouldn’t that be nice?”

; “you’re always pretty jagiya. you’re especially pretty without makeup.”

; “i’m tired. let’s cuddle, kay? I wanna feel you wrapped up in my arms, I’ll know you’re safe with me then.”

; “I literally just can’t have enough of you.”

; “I’ve been looking at pictures of you for the last 30 minutes—“

; “I like you mostest— no I love you. I’m IN love with you.”

; “wanna ft and eat together?”

; “You’re perfect to me. You always will be— it’s not cheesy it’s the truth!— accept my compliments right now!”

; “stop being stingy and give me more kisses! I’ll die if you don’t smother me— it’s true my doctor says so!”

; “your presence heals me.”

; “You’re like my healing wave and my bright sun.”

; “I can’t even describe in words how sexy you are right now- you’re just- WOW.”

; “FOOD DATEEEE! YAYYYY!”

; “I want you in every way that there is to want a person.”

; “You’re sweet, and hot.. good mix in my opinion.”

; “you should stay up.. I wanna keep flirting with you.”

Hyunjin

; “I wanted to talk to you. I miss your voice and your laugh, and your pretty face.”

; “my love, you could be more discreet if you’re trying to scare me— USING MINHO AS A SCARE TACTIC ISN’T FAIR EITHER!”

; “I’ll be as sassy as I want. Now give me a kiss I’m craving them— yes I’m on my period now hand them over or else.”

; “jokes on you, you’re my number one priority right now. the boys can wait a little while longer.”

; “I wanna stay up and talk to you.— What do you mean no?— that’s too bad, you’re not my mom.”

; “you mean more than the world to me.”

; “I don’t care who he was. he was looking at you the way I look at you. and I should be the ONLY person to look at you like that— cmon love.”

; “I’m physically craving your touch right now— I just want to sock you in the face and then kiss it right where it hurts— I’m joking I love you!”

; “I always wanna be by your side angel.”

; “You’re cute when you’re sleepy.”

; “I’m painting you love, what else would I be doing?”

Lee Know

; “you literally captivate me. your eyes especially. I could spend hours looking at your pretty face and never get bored.”

; “one day I’m gonna train my cats to come beat you up.”

; “I’m gonna punch you in the mouth. With my mouth. Softly.— yea I’m going to kiss you.”

; “stop saying things that make me want to kiss the hell out of you. it’s not funny— don’t laugh!”

; “I want your lips, I want your everything. or rather- I want you here so I can hold you.”

; “when I talk to you.. it’s like talking to my best friend. except I love you and I get to kiss you all over and all that cool stuff.”

; “your stubborn ass is never gonna listen— also I love your ass. literally.”

; “I’m really just.. fucking soft when it comes to you.”

; “yeah babe. you’re really pretty. the prettiest.”

; “You’re literally dreaming i didn’t say that— how’s that gaslighting?!”

; “you make me think of a love song every time I look at you.”

; “baby, just kiss me.”

; “Sure, we can get matching outfits.”

Seungmin

; “you look so innocent but I know you’re not— that makes me weak.”

; “I can tell you so many times how pretty you are, because you’re my pretty puppy and no one else’s.”

; “kinda wanna take you out for dinner— what I’m just saying?”

; “relax pretty puppy, I’m all yours.”

; “I wanna see you drunk off my kisses.”

; “I just like whacked Han in the back of the head and he started crying- funniest thing ever.”

; “we look cute together, don’t you agree?”

; “let’s live together, I hate everyone else except you.”

; “you haven’t talked to me since 12:03pm. I’m lonely. talk to me babe.”

; “it’s not like I hate going out. I just hate everyone else gets to see how pretty you are.”

; “didn’t you say you liked these?— yeah I got ‘em for you.”

; “babe, you’re constantly reading that. what is it?”

; “wanna come watch me practice?”

; “that dress is cute babe, you should get it.”

; “You’re so stupidly cute, it’s getting annoying.”

; “babe, I love you— but stop trying to get me to buy you that dog.”

Han

; “BABE GUESS WHAT— I love you!”

; “hi beautiful, I hope you had a good day!”

; “You’re so cute babeeee, you literally make my heart melt.”

; “wake up I miss you.”

; “baby, have I ever told you how pretty you are?— mhm! the prettiest.”

; “You’re all I’ll ever need.”

; “daily reminder that I’m so in love with you-!”

; “I woke up and the first thing I wanted was you.”

; “this pretty face is all mine— mine to kiss and stare at and compliment.”

; “my favorite thing to look at is you of course!!”

; “TODAY REMINDS ME OF YOU— BECAUSE ITS HOT.”

; “I got butterflies when you called me pretty.”

; “I stay up just to talk to you babe.”

; “girl the only side chicks I got are your other personalities.”

; “You’re always on my mind, duh.”

; “honestly my mom would be so proud of me if I brought you home.”

; “you have me on some foreign level of happy.”

; “why is it that birds chirp to communicate? let’s chirp to communicate baby! — IT’S NOT WEIRD IT’S NATURE.”

; “how’s your day going my beautiful future wife?”

; “face time meeee, I’m with the boyssss, they wanna say hi to my girlll!”

; “I want you. Only you.”

; “just kiss me and don’t stop.”

Felix

; “good morning angel. sleep well?”

; “I want all of you forever. you and your perfect face, your perfect body, your perfect personality.”

; “me and chan bought ice cream! wanna share with me?”

; “BABE THERE’S A SPIDER— oh right.. yeah I’ll kill it-“

; “so you’re saying you saw a cat and your first thought was to text me about it?— god I love you.”

; “you just have me so whipped. I’d do anything for you.”

; “sunshine, can I tell the boys about you?”

; “You’re my entire universe, and whatever is beyond that.”

; “such a pretty face, can’t believe I get to kiss you and call you mine.”

; “of course I made you some brownies! why wouldn’t I?”

; “when I kiss you it’s hard for me to stop.”

; “I love you with my heart baby.”

; “don’t get jealous baby you own my heart, I’m all yours.”

; “I wanna marry you already. I want a house, a dog, a weird grocery list, everything baby.”

; “why are you staring at me, huh beautiful?”

; “You’re really cute when you’re nervous.”

; “I’ll be over in five with pizza. Sound good?”

Jeongin

; “I’m so proud of everything you do lovely!”

; “proceed with caution you might burn down the kitchen.”

; “You’re literally my dream girl.”

; “I was just thinking about you— and our future.”

; “the thought of us kissing won’t leave my head-“

; “I miss you, call me?”

; “You’re cute.. we should be cute together!”

; “stay called me a peach.. do you think I’m a peach lovely?”

; “I don’t care what you wear, you’re beautiful either way.”

; “there she is— the girl of my dreams.”

; “I wanna be your every thought, every second of the day.”

; “I text you when I miss you.. which is all the time.”

; “can I tell you something? don’t freak out.— I love you.”

; “Sorry im busy! I’m discussing future wedding plans with your mom!”

; “you hungry lovely?— scratch that I know you’re always hungry, let’s go to that cafe down the street.”

; “send me videos of you— why would I want nudes? — no send me videos of you being silly and singing!”

; “I’m glad I met you too, you’re the best thing to happen to me.”

543 notes · View notes

hon3y-y · 4 months

Text

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆ Sickness and health

Cw; no smut, soft satoru with his sick s/o who he loves so very much, pet names, fem!reader

Enjoy<3

Your sniffles could be heard all day, your skin paling in contrast to its normal liveliness along with the fact you’ve been curled up in a ball since you woke up. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to realize you were sick, and it certainly didn’t get past your loving boyfriend who heard your stuffy voice through the phone and made it his personal duty to take care of you, arriving at your place in record time.

“Open.” His voice is soft, holding out a spoon of warm soup to you, which you reluctantly swallowed. He smiled, mumbling a ‘good girl’ before giving you more.

You sat up, pulling the blanket with you as a shiver shot up your spine. “Babe, you’re too close. You’re gonna get sick—“ cutting yourself off with a Yelp as he shoved another spoonful in your mouth, sushing you gently. “That’s not important right now.” He pushes you to lay back against the pillow, caressing your cheek in his warm hand making you press against his fingers. “Look at you, looking better already, pretty girl!” He gushes, pecking your lips.

You gasped, covering your mouth. “Satoru! You can’t do that,” you huffed, grabbing a tissue to reach up and wipe his lips causing him to dodge it with a pout. “I have the flu, Toru’.” He shrugs, leaning back in to kiss you only to have the tissue meet his lips instead.

“Oh, so now you wanna be stingy?” He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest and turning his head to look away. “Not wanting to get you sick makes me the bad guy? Toru—“ he cut you off, standing abruptly. “Fine, if you don’t love me anymore—”

“Gojo, that’s not what I said.”

He gasped, “Oh. Last names. Cool, just rip my heart out and stomp on it,” you stare at him with a dropped jaw, watching your boyfriend fake distress as he struts to the door as dramatically as possible. “It’s fine, I’ll leave. I know when I’m not wanted!” He glances over his shoulder at you, blue eyes glistening and his glossy lips pulled down.

You can’t help but laugh, forcing your sore body up to stop him. “Cmon babe, you know I’m just saying it because I love you.” you go to stand, your hand immediately reaching out when the room spins. Satoru is by your side in seconds, cooing at you when you immediately crumble into his arms. “Sorry, my head feels dizzy.”

He lays you back down, shaking his head. “No baby, it’s no time for games. I’m sorry my love.” Through the years, you learned him well, quickly taking notice of the guilty look on his face. His attempt to cheer you up working but still stressing your weak body making his heart clench. “Don’t apologize, you meant well.” Your soft eyes made his cheeks flush and he couldn’t help but reach down to give you a sloppy kiss. “That doesn’t mean you can kiss me!” He rolls his eyes, forcing you to move over so he can hold you, your back pressed to his front as he whispers about how “his love will heal all.”

The position was nice until a particularly hot moment, making you let out a groan and shift uncomfortably. “Okay, I get you’re trying to be cute but if you don’t get off of me, I might get violent.” You sniffled, moving to put space between you. Satoru gasped before laying directly on top of you making you squeal, “that’s the point! Gotta sweat out the sickness with love, babe!”

A/n; babes, I’m so sorry for being inactive. I’ve had no writing inspiration and haven’t been on here in a while so here’s some fluff</3 love you all;)

528 notes · View notes

h3avens4ngel · 5 months

Text

◦ 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 ◦

𝟏𝟖+ | 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞 𝐀𝐔 | 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫-𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎'𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: drug use (marijuana), sharing a joint, p in v, unprotected sex, teasing, lots of flirting, pet names, dry humping, mentions of readers ex boyfriend, sloppy make outs, slighty rough Miguel, childish gambiano realness, jealous Miguel, language, praising kink, size kink, breeding kink??

Both you and Miguel were laid on his bed, blunt between his lips as he took a puff of the funky smelling joint.

You met each other your first year in college and now being in your 3rd, you both grew into best friends. It wasn't often the both of you got high but today was a day of celebration.

The both of you passed your finals.

"You wanna play somethin’ different" Miguel calmly asked while passing you the joint. You nodded and reached your hand out to take it out of his hands but he shook his head and motioned for you to lean down and take a hit while he held it up for you.

You chuckled and softly inhaled the warm stingy cloud of the smoke traveling into your system. Miguel's eyes watched you with admiration as you smiled at him while softly coughing.

Moving off the bed, you walked over to his record player and shuffled through his records. You didn't even realize when Miguel sat up and laid on his elbows as he watched you humming to last song that played.

You settled with childish Gambino and inhaled the fresh air as you heard the opening of Me and Your Mama start to play.

You could hear Miguel chuckle behind you as you started swaying to the song.

I'm in love when we are smokin' you mouthed as you plotted down right besides him. "Mmh" he hummed as he turned to face you, both of you now mere inches away from each other as you laid on your sides.

He held out the joint to your lips, allowing you to take the last hit of the joint. His eyes lingering on the way your lips wrapped around the joint and pulled away sensually. He didn't know if it was the drugs in his system or if you were genuinely moving so slowly.

And you were, your body was in one of the most relaxed state it you moving like a cat and rubbing your face into the sheets. "You're so handsome" you muttered, not fully aware that you said it out loud.

"And you're beautiful" he hummed as he raised a finger up to your hair and ran it down to your cheek. You leaned into his touch, the warm feeling in your stomach growing as you began to feel the warmth he was seeming to vibrate.

You leaned into his chest instantly and were met with his arms pulling you in tight. "You're so warm mig" you moaned in relief "oh yeah?" He chuckled as he rested his chin above your head.

Your face was buried in his chest as both of you took in each others scents and warmth. You pulled back from his chest in a sigh and shifted your eyes up to him.

His eyes already trained on you as you glanced at his lips “can I kiss you?” You bravely whisper. You moaned as his lips crashed onto yours, the sudden feeling of the both of you kissing filling your senses.

You and Miguel were needly lapping at each others lips, no words needed as the messy, hot, kiss sunk the both of you deeper into each other as he tucked his hand behind your neck.

Miguel swore you taste like honey and he didn’t want to let go. He pressed you onto him softly as you wrapped a leg around his waist.

Miguel hummed as he held your hip in his hand and pushed himself onto his back, allowing you to sit on his lap and straddle him. “Please”

Miguel smiled as he held you down to his lips “mhm?” He smiled “what do you want sweetheart?” He cooed while grinding you onto his sweats. You knew he had no boxers on, you could feel the prominent curve and veins of his cock through his thin sweats.

The high was making you so overwhelmed by his touch, you felt like he was sinking into you as you began to grind onto him “ah ah, tell me what you want”

You whined as Miguel pinned your body still “tell me” his voice made you shiver as he began to kiss all over your face “you, please mig anything you want I- fuck!” You gasped as he manhandled you onto your back.

“Anything I want? What do you mean by that” he smiled “last I knew you said no one here was fuckble” he teased while he dragged his lips down your neck “am I fuckable now? You want your best friend to make you feel good?”

You could roll your eyes at his tone but instead, you moaned. You’ve always had a crush on Miguel and what was playing out was definitely not something you thought he reciprocated.

“I’ve always been jealous of that one guy you dated, what’s his name?” Miguel sighed “I don’t care about him”

“I know you don’t chula, it’s just I hated seeing him touch you. Seeing him kiss you around campus, pissed me off” he pouted.

You pulled him into a kiss as you now got annoyed at the amount of talking about your ex “I don’t care, I want you, I’ve always have” you muttered. And with that, Miguel let out a moan of satisfaction.

Both of you were pulling at each others clothes, you eagerly pulled his shirt off and salivated at the sight. His toned chest was on full display and you couldn’t help but run your hands down his body and smile.

Miguel hastily unbuttoned your jeans and the moment he saw your panties you swore he whimpered. His lip was tucked between his teeth as he ran his hands up your plump thighs “fuck”

You were squirming under his touch, so overwhelmed by his soft pawing and kneading that you let out a whine as he began to rock onto your clothed cunt “you feel so good” Miguel hissed as he held you by your waist.

Both his hands holding you tight as he took in how amazing you felt. The high was hitting him just as much as you, his body was tingling and the need to fuck you was getting worse.

His fingers curled your panties and in one eager tug, they were on the ground. Miguel was drooling at the sight of your puffy cunt covered in slick “I’ve been working her up too much haven’t I?, my poor baby” he chuckled as your hips began moving on their own.

“Don’t worry” he hummed, two of his fingers running down your cunt “I’ll take good care of you, right chula?” He smiled up at you. You nodded frantically as you rocked onto his thick fingers. “Use your words”

“Yes Miguel yes! I know you will, you’ll fuck me so good, so good please” you were at the point of desperation as you eyes caught a glimpse of his cock straining against his sweats. “Good girl” he whispered before pressing a kiss onto your collar bone.

You watched impatiently as he tugged off his sweats and you almost let out a curse at the sight of his cock. You gawked at his thick cock, questioning how much would fit inside you.

And almost as if he knew what you were thinking Miguel chuckled “don’t worry bunny, I didn’t work you up for nothing. Need to make sure you’ll take me real nice and easy”

His lips latched onto yours as he purposely pressed himself between your folds. Miguel was hiding how much this was driving him crazy, you were so focused on his body in front of you that you didn’t even notice how hard he was gripping the sheets.

He’d been fucking himself to the thought of you for so long that finally getting to do this seemed like a dream.

He fisted his cock and ran it between your folds, seething at the way you coated him. His teeth biting so hard onto his lip he swore it would start to bleed.

“Oh my g-“ you gasped as he pushed inside you. Miguel held himself up with one hand as the other pulled you closer “oh fuc- feel so damn good” he whimpered.

His hands cupped the back of your thighs and pinned them back as he began to pick up his pace. Your eyes rolled back as you felt him stuff you full, the painfully delicious stretch he was giving you was making you dizzy.

It didn’t help that both of you felt like all your senses were heightened as the high hit its peek. You could feel all of him, everywhere at once it was so overwhelming.

You focused on the way his stomach rolled with his thrusts and how loud was moans were getting. Then the sheer pleasure of his cock ramming deep into you had you muttering incoherent nonsense.

Miguel’s eyebrows furrowed as he felt you clench around him, your gushy velvet walls squeezing him tightly “god bunny, making me f- ah- crazy” he seethed.

You couldn’t believe you were getting the best fucking of your life from your best friend, you couldn’t believe how good he felt pounding into you like a madman. Miguel’s hips slammed into yours in bliss, his hands holding you by the waist as he sloppily thrusted into you.

“Mi- fuckkk mig-“ you whined, back arched off the beds as he began to slowly but firmly slam into you. You could feel him curve up into your g-spot as he pushed inside. Your nails scratch down his arms as he chuckled at your reaction“Que bebita? Te gusta?”

You nodded dumbly and hummed at his tone “s- soo good mi- you feel so f- oh-“ you muttered. Miguel felt himself twitch at the sound of your voice go weak, your pretty fucked out tone going on and on about how good his dick felt inside you.

“Yeah chula? Yo se que te gusta, siempre sabía” he cooed. You couldn’t comprehend what he was saying from the amount of pleasure coursing through you. If you did, you would’ve gotten embarrassed.

He always knew you wanted this

“Im- imma- Miguel o- fu” you cried as his tip hit the perfect spot deep inside you, his thick cock continuously ramming into you as your cum began to gush out if you.

Miguel let out a gruntled moan as you came around his cock, your cunt fluttering and getting even more sticky and full as he pumped his loads into you. You were shaking in his arms as your body let out all the built up frustration and stress.

You opened your eyes to see Miguel’s sweaty body twitching as he finally filled you to the brim with his loads. “Oh- oh fuck ah shit! Mha-“ he whined as you continued to clenched around him.

Miguel watched as his cum seeped out and onto his sheets, moaning as he saw himself leaking out of your tight pussy. A chuckle leaving him as he noticed how much he had came “think I might’ve came the most I ever have inside you bunny”

Miguel pulled out with a shiver as he laid beside you, his sweaty body pulling you in as he gave you a sloppy kiss. “Good” You hummed into Miguel as he hugged you onto his chest tightly, palm cupping your cheek as he pecked at your lips.

Both of you knew this was just the beginning.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o hara #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel x you #miguel smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara fanfiction #smut #oscar issac characters

740 notes · View notes