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#it was so hard keeping up so i apologize for any errors
cozage · 1 day
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hello! Im kinda new to tumblr so i dont really know if im supposed to send requests here so sorry if im supposed to send it somewhere else, but for my request can it be fem! Reader x sanji? Hurt to comfort where he says something mean but then apologizes? And can you pull out the angsty bit a little, but make the ending fluffy? And for the format can it be like a mini fic? If you want you can add other characters but i mainly want sanji! Thats all! Sorry if my request didnt make sense as im new to tumblr😔. Thank youu!
A/N: Hi! You did everything perfectly!! Thank you for the request <3 it was so hard to make Sanji mean even accidentally 😭 I hope this is good! It’s also not edited so please forgive any grammatical errors!  Characters: fem reader x Sanji Cw: Sanji is an idiot and says mean things (and is a little sexist) Total word count: 900
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“I can do it, Sanji.” Your words came out quick and short. Your temper was rising, both at your task at hand and the blonde who was hovering behind you. He didn’t normally come with you on jobs for Franky, but he had been free today.
“It’ll be faster if I do it,” Sanji offered. He reached out for the wrench. 
“I can do it!” you snapped again. You pulled away from the task and glared at him. “Franky asked me to do this, so let me do it!”
“Well, it’s just…” Sanji eyed your clenched fist around the wrench and took a step back. “It’s not really a woman’s job to do this sort of thing, and-”
“What the hell do you mean by that?” you bellowed. “You think I’m not capable of doing this?”
Sanji threw his hands up in a plea. “No my love! It’s not that at all! It’s just…you’re not very good at this.”
It felt as though you had swallowed a stone. “Franky always asks me to do this.”
“And you’re being very helpful!” Sanji said quickly. “But he gives it to you because it’s not exactly a top priority task and…well, it’s really hard to mess up.” 
Sanji gave a weary look back to your workplace as if your handiwork spoke for itself. His pitied gaze and words made you suddenly want to be alone. 
“Fine,” you mumbled, dropping the wrench to the ground. “Fix it for me, then.”
“Of course, darling!” Sanji jumped at the wrench. You were fairly sure he was already starting to explain how he turned the bolt, but you walked out the door without listening further. 
You didn’t see Sanji for a while. That was fine with you, though. You retreated to the back of the ship and perched atop a barrel, staring out at the sea to think. Did Franky always give you useless tasks just to keep you busy? You frequently had to return to the same tasks again and again. What if Franky broke things just to have you fix them? 
The thought brought tears to your eyes. You had been so sure Franky enjoyed your company and valued your help. He had called you “super indispensable” more times than you could count. Was it all just a lie?
“Darling?” 
Sanji’s voice broke through your mental spiral and you quickly wiped the tears from your cheeks. 
“Yeah?” Your voice came out wobbly, but there was no point in hiding from Sanji. 
You turned to face him. You had been ready for him to fuss over you, but you found that he was covered in sweat and grease and plenty of other weird stains and smears. He didn’t even seem to acknowledge your puffy eyes at first. He looked too exhausted. 
“So, this is the part where I apologize,” he said softly. 
He strode over to you in three steps and swept your hair out of your face. His hands were covered in grime, and you could feel the oily substance stick to your face. The feeling made you jerk away from him, but he was already pulling out a clean cloth and wiping it away. 
“I’m sorry I said those things, my love. I know you are very capable of doing anything you put your mind to. Your persistence is one of my favorite things about you. I shouldn’t have tried to take that away from you. You didn’t deserve that, and I’m so sorry I thought I could do something better than you just because of our genders.”
His words made your eyes swell. You had planned on still being mad at him after this. But seeing those crystal blue eyes and hearing his sweet words made you crumble all over again. 
“I forgive you.” You sniffed and wiped the tears from your eyes again. “Just don’t do it again.”
Sanji let out a laugh. “Oh, I will never be taking on a task Franky gives you again. You know how I said it was ‘hard to screw up’? It turns out that was wrong. I broke the whole pipe. Franky was pissed. He said he doesn’t let anyone touch that problem except you and him. Something about the pressure system needing a delicate hand, and only the two of you have the knack for it.”
It took a moment for his words to process, but you could feel your heart swelling. “Franky only lets me do that?”
Sanji nodded, guiding you towards the kitchen. “And a few other tasks. Says you’re the only one he trusts to do it right.” 
“I didn’t know that.” You had a vague feeling that you needed to cry for an entirely different reason now. 
He gave another laugh and sat you at the counter. “Well, you always excel at everything you do. It turns out I have a lot to make up for. What should we start with, chocolate cake or ice cream?”
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lunaeclipse1057-ao3 · 6 months
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Tallulah's Rant, 12/27/2023 Colorized
It is very fucking long so I'm putting it under a thingy :)
Tallulah's Rant: "It's horrible enough dealing with your father being away, people mocking you as if you don't have feelings. I was an extension of him for months, and I was clinging to people on the island because of it. That care, that safety. Everyone had their safe space, but I didn't. I had no purpose and you have still taken me under your wing as your own. Chayanne is your son.
The time I spent in Purgatory, we were separated. Dapper and Ramon had each other's shoulders, and I felt alone.
I learned how to fight until the one-eyed person found us and sent us to the island. ElQuackity spoke to us and he pointed out how my dad doesn't visit us often. And I was alone, and we were trapped.
Then you all came, and no one ran towards me until Tio Tubbo and Tio Charlie looked at my direction. Cucurucho saved us, and we were in a coma. After waking up, I realized everyone had their parents (not leo i think, it was a blur), and the same shit all the time, I was just not impressed anymore.
I can't force you to put me as priority, it's not correct. You are Chayanne's dad. And it is hard for me to fit, I coped with sleeping alone, I kept writing letters and playing songs. It didn't help. I'm tired. I don't want to be a burden.
And I am just done, I feel lost, like I don't have a place. 'I have so much love to offer', not anymore. I'm not the same Tallulah I was months ago. Sorry, I'm trying my best, I'm just sad and bitter."
Phil's Response: "Tallulah, I never want you to think you're a burden. You are just as much my kid as Chayanne is. You have been ever since I started taking care of you. I'm sorry if it doesn't feel that way, I know I'm not good enough. I apologize because it's ultimately my fault."
Tallulah's Response: "That's why it's worse, you are an amazing dad, and I love you, and I want to appreciate you more but I don't know how."
Phil: "You don't have to worry about that, alright? You're just a kid. Everything you wake up, every time we hang out, I appreciate our time together. I feel like... I don't know, I'm always trying my best but I feel like it isn't good enough. For me to not notice you were feeling this way, it makes me feel like shit. I never thought that you would be going through this, I thought you were fine. I knew you'd miss Wil, but eventually see me as your dad."
Tallulah: "It's fine you can't see everything. I know he doesn't have enough time to love me, but I'll keep clinging to people and hope for the best :)"
Phil: "Listen, you don't need to change. You don't need to be impossibly strong, or emotionally unbreakable. You have a heart. You are just as much my kid as Chayanne is. It just feels weird if you don't wake up with him. And it's okay to be selfish sometimes, Tallulah, it's totally fine. You're one of the few eggs who, I feel, has every right to be selfish now and again. You have a unique situation, and you should just be able to live your life. I'll be here every step of the way, through thick and thin. Me and Chayanne. Listen, Wil loves you very much, he tells me every chance he gets, but he is so busy. He's touring the world, playing his sad songs and happy songs to people. But he still loves you. I'm sorry he can't be here as much as I can, but I hope I can fill in the boots. I'm always going to be a shoulder."
Tallulah: (In Spanish) "You are the best father there is, thank you. Don't think otherwise, and I'm sorry for being so stubborn. Everything in it's time."
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osachiyo · 4 months
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EAT IT LIKE YOU MEAN IT ! ✘ 𝐝𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐢, 𝐜𝐡𝐮𝐮𝐲𝐚, 𝐣𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐨 & 𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐩𝐨
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𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 — n/sfw content, headcanons + rating, female reader, cunnilingus, cum eating, squirting, pussy slapping, face-sitting, praise, overstimulation, etc
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — i wrote this while being sick, so don't attack me if this has a lot of spelling mistakes and errors.. and i just wanted to write some silly little headcanons so my apologies if this isn't good lol happy reading as always and i hope you enjoy :3 (yes i did remove fedya from this sorry) NOT PROOFREAD
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 — bsd men and how they eat the 😼
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𝓓𝓪𝔃𝓪𝓲
this man is a MUNCHERRRR. will gladly eat you out any day of the week, any time of the day. he does not care if you're at work — will not hesitate drag you in a storage room of the agency and eat you out there. one time ranpo walked in on dazai giving you the most toe-curling head, and used that as blackmail on you two, demanding he'll keep quiet if you bought him candy for the rest of the week. safe to say that you put a ban on sex at work for a month (spoiler alert: you didn't last).
sit. on. his. face. make a mess on it — drench his face in your juices and he'll thank you. hell, even better if you ride it — he'll cum untouched so fast.
he's skilled in the art of eating pussy — knows all of your weak spots like the back of his hand. don't ask him how many times he's done this — he'll just flash you an innocent looking smile, never actually answering your question.
knows how to make you scream and takes advantage of that — urging you to cum over and over on his silver tongue, saying "just gimme one more, darling," only for it to turn into another, and another until you lose count.
he takes his time when giving you head — tongue tracing your hole all the way up to your clit, savouring the taste of your arousal before he devours you.
KEEPS EYE CONTACT !! works his mouth on your cunt while his big, warm, brown eyes filled with mirth stares at you the entire time, smirking at the beautiful expressions you make — loving how flustered you get from his gaze alone.
likes to use his fingers while eating you out — long digits probing at the rough patch of your g-spot while he sucks on your clit — a deadly combo that has you creaming in his mouth in seconds.
overall a 10/10, knows how to use his tongue and isn't afraid of using it.
𝓒𝓱𝓾𝓾𝔂𝓪
messy eater !! is not afraid of getting filthy, if he's gonna go down on you, might as well do it properly.
he's really into 69 ! not because he gets pleasured as well (though he's definitely not gonna complain about it), it's more of a physiological thing for him. it gets him so impossibly hard when you slobber and struggle to take his cock down your throat just because of the sheer pleasure he's giving you. it's adorable to see, really. also gives him an excuse to shove his cock down your throat himself, groaning something about "him doing all the work," but he wouldn't have it any other way.
as much as he loves pinning you to the bed, holding your hips down while shoving his face between your legs — he'd much rather eat it from the back. what can he say? he loves your ass — spreading it apart to bury his tongue into your hole, occasionally slapping or pinching your cheeks to tease you — it's pure filth.
he knows your limits, of course, but sometimes he can't help but go a little overboard — too lost in the feeling of lapping up your sweetness, circling your clit before dipping his tongue into your hole. it's best not to interrupt him during this — unless you actually want to stop, he's gonna pin you down harder with a low growl before getting back to his meal.
he doesn't use his fingers that often while eating you out — would much rather make you release on his tongue, but wouldn't mind indulging you if you really wanted it. gloved fingers probing at your sweet spot — groaning out praises for being so good for him.
he's a talker !! growling, muttering and even moaning words of encouragement while he eats your pussy — the vibrations of his lust-filled voice making your toes curl and head lull back.
9/10, he's less about technique and more about instinct — and it works.
𝓙𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓸
he's a sadist through and through — very into edging you. likes to hear your heartbeat speed up then suddenly drop when he pulls his face away from your cunt, laughing at your misery like it's the funniest thing in the world. don't get him wrong though — he eventually does let you cum, eventually.
when he's not edging you, he's overstimulating you. sometimes he does it right after edging you, too — didn't you want to cum? he's giving you what you wanted this whole time, you should thank him for it, really.
not afraid of using toys on you during he goes down on you — he loves hearing your desperate whines and and attempts of forcing him away because "it's too much," what nonsense — he thinks, jouno knows your limits, he knows you can take it. now be a good girl for him and let him enjoy his meal.
100% a pussy slapper — he likes hearing you squeal his name, while your neighbors definitely hate you both for that. he's so mean about it too, spreading your pussy lips apart to land a harsh but swift smack on your clit — it has you tearing up and crying out his name so cutely, he can't help but do it again, again and again.
jouno knows exactly which spots make you writhe in pleasure, and he takes advantage of that — relentlessly pounding his fingers into your g-spot while suckling on your clit, it has you seeing stars in mere moments.
did i mention he can make you squirt? he's incredible with his hands and mouth — combine that with the fact that he knows all of your weak spots, it's a killer combination. even if you're not a squirter, he still gives you the best orgasms you've had in your life.
8/10, he knows your limits and knows when to stop — but sometimes he can be a little too… sadistic.
𝓡𝓪𝓷𝓹𝓸
another munch right here — he'll eat you out anytime he wants, and when you want him to, of course !
ranpo gets super whiney while going down on you, his face would be flushed down to his neck — muffled moans of your name escaping his glossy lips, it's an adorable sight.
his glasses would be all fogged up, please take them off for him so they don't get dirty (he'll be whiney after if you don't)
ranpo has 0 experience, might need you to teach him some of the basics at first but he's a quick learner, quickly figures out and memorises which spots make you moan louder and your cunt wetter.
he doesn't care that much about technique, relies on feeling instead.
he doesn't like using his fingers, would rather pleasure you simply with his tongue — but he might cave in if you whined for long enough.
LOVES having you sit on his face — he needs to be drowned in your essence, and what better way to do that than have you ride his face? use him to get off, he might whine and kick his feet at first but he'll give in eventually !
sucks on your clit like it's his favorite candy — at least that's what he tells you. could spend hours and hours between your legs if you'd let him, sucking at licking at your clit before dipping his tongue in your hole, he might like it even better than candy, actually.
7/10, inexperienced but his enthusiasm makes up for it — really messy too.
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note — if you don't agree with the ratings then that's fine, they can eat you out however you want them to lol.
tags ・ @hopefulpain @inkmooon @constant-existential-terror @nda-approval @mellieellie @seiiushi @lynxxyyy @kentopedia
@sorasushik1 @himebwrries @nopethenope @neviex @fyodorisbbg @stygianoir @saharei @x-lunawrites-x @munnaitorei @emyyy007 @dearhoney-31 @the-foreigner @angoisfine @osaemu @honeycombflowers-blog @yuiiasathesilly @kaithegremlin @squigglewigglewoo @cupidszvlvr @ashthemadwriter-archived @bloobewy @mrs-bakugou @hauntedsol @ask-me-or-not @hanakotateyama @kissesmellow21 @dazaichuuya69 @xxsilverjackalxx @gettinshiggywithit @deaths-presence @sugaredpersimmon @rjssierjrie @iheartpieck @angelof-darkness @dazaisimpletmereadfanficspls @hellokitty-4-lele @scinclaitnoir @aly-insanity @kemis-world @bisexuawolfsalt @thateldribitch
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l13 · 1 year
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♡miguel x reader x peter♡
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a part 2 to this drabble
word count: around 3,1k
WARNINGS : NSFW 18+ ONLY, NO use of y/n, f!reader, voyeurism, cheating (peter on mj), HINTS on miguel x peter but nothing actually happens, blowjob (m receiving), masturbation, making out, swearing, spitting?(not really, YOU'LL SEE OK), miguel loves humiliating peter, miguel gets jealous and territorial very easily, lazy writing, also my first time writing anything close to a threesome so please be kind
a/n: SO SORRY this took so fucking long but I hope that y'all will still enjoy reading it<3
English is not my first language so I apologize in advance for any misspells, errors or grammatically incorrect sentences.
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“Fuck, shit, fuck” Peter struggles to pull his pants back up as he turns around swiftly, a hand securely holding on to the front of his sweats as he gulps nervously “Miguel, my man! Fancy seeing you here… look, it’s not what it-”
“Cut the shit, Peter.” Miguel says with crossed arms, “At least have the balls to face the consequences of your… perversions.” he would have looked intimidating if it weren’t for his disheveled look–hair messy, chest rising and falling rapidly (who's he kidding, peter was still scared shitless).
“Wh-huh? I- no, you got it wrong-haha! That’s funny, though! Look- I’m just gonna go-”
“You’re gonna stay where you are.”
“Yup, staying right here.” Peter purses his lips, and he really hopes the outline of his bulge isn't that visible. (it was)
Miguel rolls his eyes, turning around and caressing your cheek as he whispers something against your ear. Peter tries to crane his neck to catch a clearer picture of you despite himself, but with that hunk of a man in front of you, it was a lost call. 
You were nervous. Understandably so. Miguel’s words, when you were too busy cumming around his cock merely minutes ago, echoed in your head.
“Yeah, baby?S good, right? So perfect for me baby, fuck. Seems like you got what you wanted after all.” you had furrowed your eyebrows, confused, barely able to keep your eyes open, but when Miguel pointed his thumb at a nearby monitor with the camera surveillance of the place shining bright, with a figure right in the middle, you'd understood what he meant. And you'd liked it.
You cock your head to the side now, as you come to stand next to Miguel, grinning bashfully at Peter, who was looking at you with a gaping mouth. You’d laugh at the way he failed to cover his bulge with his hand, but you were too nervous to do so, so you decided to ignore the act altogether, even if it made your insides flip, “Hi, Peter.”
Jesus Christ, your voice. “Yellow-he-Hi!” Peter’s mouth was so dry, he doesn’t know how he managed to reply. Was after-sex-glow a thing? Because, fuck, you were glowing. There was this flush covering your cheeks and Peter thinks he wants to kiss you all over. Without even realizing it, his feet begin taking him over to you two. But not even a step in, and he’s very rudely interrupted.
“What are you doing?” Miguel’s tone is calm, and yet gives Peter an eerie sensation at the back of his neck that makes him swallow nervously, stopping in his tracks. “Uh- well, I just thought-”
“You thought wrong.” Miguel says blankly.
Peter flushes, seemingly understanding what Miguel planned to do, and takes multiple steps back till his back hits the wall behind him. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. “I- I don’t-”
“What? You didn’t actually think I was going to let you come anywhere near her?” Miguel’s laugh is cruel, and tears well in Peter’s eyes at the underlying humiliation.
“Don’t be mean,” you mutter against Miguel’s ear, your hands circling around his waist as you hug him, your eyes never leaving Peter’s. Yeah, Peter thought, don’t be mean, bitch.
Miguel softens under your touch, draping his arm over your shoulder to bring you impossibly closer, suddenly very aware of his own still very hard cock. He starts pressing kisses along your forehead, your cheeks, your jaw, and you smile as you nuzzle against him. “Oh baby, you’re still hard, aren’t you? How selfish of me,” you didn’t sound sorry at all. But neither Miguel nor Peter cared. 
Oh yeah, Peter was still very much here. Cock throbbing and all. 
“Stop teasing, bebita,” Miguel hisses, his eyes fluttering as he ruts his hips against you, the smallest of whimpers escaping his lips. Peter would have laughed if Miguel’s voice didn’t make the sound hot. Another fact about Miguel that pissed him off, because when Peter whimpers, it sounds pathetic. 
Peter drops his hand over his bulge, groaning under his breath when he squeezes himself over his pants, finally getting some much needed friction.
To Peter’s utter horror, that was the moment that Miguel remembered that he was still in the room, and Peter froze when Miguel’s eyes met his, goosebumps rising all over his body when Miguel’s gaze dropped to his covered cock. Fuck. “Touch yourself for all I care, but know that this is the first and last time I’m letting you in on this. The next time I catch you creeping on her, I’ll kill you.” Well, that was not at all what Peter expected. How horrible, and assertive. Not at all arousing.
Peter cleared his throat, “Kill me. Yeah. Yup. No, yeah, I got it.”
You laugh softly, your own hand dropping to palm Miguel over his suit, “Don’t worry, he’s all bark and no bite,”
Miguel tries hard to hide the slight tremble in his voice at the slight contact you gave him, “Is that so?”. He dropped his head, breath fanning across your neck, “Wanna test that theory?”. Both men smile when your breath hitches, Peter staring hard, and finally pulling his cock out. He inhales sharply when he wraps his hand around himself, so desperately wanting to close his eyes and fuck his fist till he comes, but keeps them open so as not to miss the show you so generously were putting in front of him. His eyes follow Miguel’s movements, as he bends to lick across your neck, biting down on your skin a second later, both men letting out sounds of appreciation as you moan.
Peter jerks his cock at a slow pace, eyes hooded, matching the tempo at which the tension builds up. He feels sick doing this, but he can’t help but let the pleasure take his mind off of the guilt that’s ready to eat him up, choosing to focus on how your throat bobs as you swallow, your lips forming a pretty 'o' as you lace your fingers through Miguel’s hair, mewling when he grazes his teeth over your collarbones.
Miguel presses the softest of kisses on the spot he’d previously bitten, and says, “On your knees, baby.” Peter is lightheaded by the pure sex dripping from Miguel’s voice, his cock twitching under his palm, and he squeezes his hand around the base of it, slowly bringing it up to circle around his tip, openly panting like a bitch in heat.
Seeing you drop to your knees was a sight Peter never thought he’d ever see, but one that he was very thankful for. From this angle, you gave Peter the perfect view of your profile. You were grinning, your expression a bit hazy, a bit cockdrunk. The tank top you were wearing looked crinkled, and Peter wondered if Miguel had the material bunched up over your tits while he was fucking you.
Peter stares as you grab at Miguel’s thighs over his suit, squeezing the flesh appreciatively as you look up at him expectedly. God, you were begging to get fucked again. Wait- over his suit? Miguel was still wearing his suit, how the fuck- 
As if Peter was voicing his thoughts out loud, the material of Miguel’s suit disappeared slowly, his cock springing up, balls dropping the slightest bit from the secure hold they were being kept up by the tightness of the suit. The start of his thighs and his belly were also exposed, pretty bronze skin a perfect contrast to the deep blue color of his suit.
“What the fuck was that?!” Peter can't help but let out, and Miguel throws him a proud smirk, “Nanotech,” You smile at the small nerdy exchange, too preoccupied to properly join in the conversation. Miguel’s pleasure was above everything else. You wrap your hand around his thick cock, moaning softly as you trace the veins on the side, bending down to kiss and suck on his fat balls. “Makes things easier-ah fuuuck,” Miguel bites on his lower lip roughly, brows furrowing as he bucks into your hand, hand caressing the side of your jaw gently. You looked so fucking beautiful.
Peter drops his other hand to fondle his balls, suddenly jealous, and throws his head back against the wall, groaning as he still keeps his eyes open to watch you.
Five minutes later, Peter was still copying your movements. When you licked at Miguel’s tip, dragging your tongue over the head, and lapping up the precum greedily, Peter made sure he only touched his tip as well, circling and rolling his hand over the head. When you licked the sides of Miguel’s cock, your hand following the same pattern just under your tongue, Peter was jerking his cock in perfect synchronization, mimicking your technique entirely.  He could practically taste the pleasure Miguel was getting.
During all this, Peter couldn’t hold back his voice. He moaned and groaned shamelessly, raising his hips to meet his hand sloppily. Fuck, he was so close to coming.
Miguel was truly no better, he was just better at masking it. He constantly gritted his teeth, hissing at your antics, but the occasional moan would slip, and it always made your pussy throb, as if you could feel it vibrating against you.
You take Miguel’s cock in your mouth with no warning, the tip touching your throat as you swallow around him, nose touching the base of his cock, your eyes tearing up quickly. Both men sputter at the sudden action. Miguel moans loudly, his belly flexing as he bends over you, fingers threading between your hair.
Peter almost comes right then and there, the movement of his hand on his cock so fast and rough, that it was creating a lewd wet sound “S-shit, you look so good, sweet thingmff fuuck. Yeah-like that, Oh my God,”
Both yours and Miguel’s heads snap up, surprised by Peter’s outburst. Miguel raises an eyebrow, his jaw locking. Was this asshole really imagining he was in his place? Well, he couldn’t exactly blame him, but it still pissed him off. When he turned his head to look at you, though, you were looking at Peter curiously and- were you biting your lip?
“Something you wanna say to him, baby?” Miguel’s voice comes out dry, and you can instantly tell he’s mad. You send him a knowing smile, shaking your head softly, “Not really. I just think he sounds sweet.”
“Yeah?” Peter whimpers in reply immediately. I sound sweet, I sound sweet, I sound sweet.
You glance at Peter again, rubbing your thighs together, and Miguel scowls at the movement and tugs at your hair hard, “Keep talking, Peter. Somehow, she seems to be liking your whining.”
“S so good, you’re so good, fuck I wanna feel your mouth on me so bad,” Peter babbles mindlessly and you can't help but watch as he thrusts into his hand needily.
Miguel notices you staring and grinds his teeth together, “What are you looking at him for, huh? Looking at his cock when mine is right in front of you. Am I not enough for you, bebita?” Your head whips around to look at the man in front of you, your eyes widening a fraction as you shake your head softly.
You make sure to put on a show as you run your lips all over Miguel’s cock, spreading his pre-cum all over your mouth and chin as you talk, “You’re everything. Your cock ‘s so pretty, the prettiest ever. Love it s’much..”. Miguel feels satisfaction spread in his veins, making him warm all over. He slaps his cock over your cheek for good measure as he stands taller and huffs out a condescending laugh, glancing at Peter with a dumb smirk on his face. That’ll teach him. 
But what Miguel sees is not at all what he expected. 
Peter’s eyes roll back, the hand on his cock tightening as he moans. Fuck, he wants nothing more than to be at Miguel’s place right now that it’s driving him insane. “Such a good fucking girl, baby, shit.”
Miguel snarls at his reaction before snapping his head back to you, “Open your mouth,” 
You do as you’re told, tongue out as you stare up at him with doe eyes, but he just clicks his tongue, “Wider.” Miguel shoves his hand in your mouth, his thumb on your tongue as the rest of his fingers cradle your jaw. He pumps his cock with his other hand, biting his lip, and mutters “Yeah, just like that.. You gonna be good for me?” You nod, and Miguel's thumb gets coated in your saliva from the movement.
Miguel grins and takes his thumb out, slowly turning his head to lock eyes with Peter. Then, he brings his hand up to his face and closes his mouth around his thumb, hollowing his cheeks prettily as he sucks your spit off his finger, his gaze dropping to Peter's cock.
Peter's jaw slacks, and his hips stutter at the sight in front of him. Miguel's low chuckle falls on deaf ears, Peter being too busy watching your hands squeeze Miguel's ass impatiently, trying to coax him back in your mouth, mewling when he relents and slips his cock inside. Miguel can't help but raise his hips as you bob your head up and down his length.
Peter spits on his cock suddenly, the filthy sound making you glance at him again, and Miguel's jaw ticks “It’s okay, bebita, you can look at him. Look, but know that he could never fuck you like I did. Or did you forget how you creamed around my cock, hm? I bet that pussy’s still wet for me,”
Peter moans approvingly, “Mm I bet it is..” 
Miguel inhales sharply, his eyes falling shut, “Peter.”
“Yeahuh? Fuck. Yeah?”
“Get your ass over here.” Peter nearly falls on his face as he stumbles forward, raising his sweatpants carelessly as he walks over. His hands tremble when he clasps them together in front of him lamely, standing awkwardly near you both.
“Closer, pendejo.” Peter gawks at Miguel's request, shakes his head, and reluctantly takes two steps closer. He made sure to throw a glance towards Miguel to ensure that he wasn’t getting punched anytime soon.
“Hold her hair back.” 
Peter must have died and went to heaven. There was no fucking way this was happening-
“Did you hear what I fucking said-"
Peter jumps when Miguel raises his voice and quickly springs into action. His breath hitches, but he can't help himself- not when he's carefully pulling your hair back, his fingers brushing your cheeks, avoiding touching Miguel's hands as he's still holding your head, practically using your mouth as a fleshlight.
Peter tries not to react when you gargle around Miguel's cock, the popping sound your mouth makes when you pull back to get some air pulling a hiss out of him. You cough messily, and as you do, you turn to look at Peter, in all your tears-running-down-your-cheeks glory. And then you grin at him, and Peter's legs buckle. And despite everything, despite the drool running down your chin, and Miguel's hard cock still in his field of view- Peter says, “Rough day, huh,"
You snort out a laugh, and Miguel's eyes almost roll to the back of his head because- how the fuck is that funny?- and so, he growls, tapping your lips twice with his cock before shoving it back inside your mouth, his head dropping as he moans lowly.
“Oh, fuck.”  Miguel’s head was fuzzy, hypnotized by the way you bobbed your head up and down his cock, your hands fondling his balls with juust the right amount of pressure that made his thighs shake. He touches your jaw with his pointer finger, thumb drawing circles over your cheek in awe. “Baby, you’re gonna make me cum.”
Peter whimpers, “fuck…” and Miguel laughs breathlessly, tongue running over his fangs, “Are you gonna fuck your fist again when you think back to this? Back when she had her pretty lips wrapped around my cock and you watched her take it.. Jesus Christ, you look pathetic. I bet if she told you to hump the fucking floor, you would.”
Peter moans and nods absentmindedly, pulling his cock out hurriedly and starting to jerk his cock sloppily, gaze glued on your fluttering eyes, mascara running down your cheeks prettily. His eyes flicker from your face to your cleavage and he whines. Your tits just look so soft, he can't help himself.
Miguel, ever the perceptive man, notices this, “Be a good girl and pull your shirt up for Peter, baby.” You moan around his cock at the way his voice trembles, and raise your shirt over your boobs, suddenly very aware of your own underwear sticking to your pussy mesilly. Fuck, you were drenched.
“Oh my God,” Peter pants, eyes losing focus, hand on your hair loosening as he moves his hips back and forth, fucking into his hand relentlessly. “I'm gonna cum, gonna cum-”
“Cum on her tits.”
Peter sobs, stepping closer to jerk his cock just over your tits and he jumps when he feels you squeeze his thigh, nails digging into the skin. He feels his balls tighten, and he grasps your shoulder as his knees buckle suddenly. “I'm cumming- Oh fuck I'm-” his cock twitches as he cums, painting your pretty tits white, the jerks of his hand never stopping as he rides out his orgasm.
For a moment, it feels as though only Peter's moans and whimpers can be heard, and fuck, he hopes there's no one outside because he's so fucking loud, and it's so humiliating that he can feel tears running down his cheeks. He feels lightheaded and utterly spent as he pumps his cock, squeezing his hand tight around himself as he watches the last of his cum drip down his length and onto your shirt, turning it a darker shade.
“Oh- fuck. Oh my fucking God.” Peter bites back a whimper and shudders, when you bring your hands to your tits, squeezing them roughly and getting his cum aaall over them.
The ringing in Peter's ears fades away, and he snaps his eyes to Miguel when he hears the state he's in.
Miguel grunts each time he snaps his cock back in your mouth, reveling in your gurgles, feeling the vibration of your moans go straight to his balls, and he. can't. stop. Not when he'd just seen Peter cum all over your tits like that. Not when he'd liked watching him do it.
“Take it. Fuck- take my fuckin' cum baby-shit,” Miguel whimpers and snarls as he snaps his hips one final time, holding your head in place, his thighs shaking as he cums down your throat. He throws his head back when he feels you swallow around his length, muttering incoherently to himself in Spanish as he whimpers and groans.
Miguel stumbles back slightly, cock slipping from your mouth at last, and both men can't help but stare hungrily, their cocks hardening once more as you gather the excess cum that's dripping down your chin in your hands, licking it out of your palms a second later. All three of you are panting hard, letting your actions linger in the air for a moment.
But then you look up at them, a sinful glint in your eyes, and Miguel turns to Peter and says,
“What are you waiting for? Lick her tits clean.”
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2023 © l13 | Do not steal, copy, edit, translate or re-post any of my works.
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love-toxin · 1 year
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MR O’HARA HAS ME ACTING FERAL BOTH OF MY LIPS HAS BEEN DROOLING SINCE I WATCHED ATSV OPENING NIGHT… I NEED HIM TO DESTROY ME
RIGHT??? LIKE--LIKE--
(cws: across the spiderverse spoilers, gn pronouns, smut, rough sex, mating press, size kink, biting/venom, belly bulges, mindbreak(?), breeding mention, a bit of forbidden love trope)
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Like....imagine, if you will, becoming an assistant for the Spider-society after your dimension is destroyed. It's mostly because Miguel took pity on you since you're not a spider-person, you had nothing to do with the unravelling of your world, and/or you were meant to gain your spider-powers but an anomaly in your dimension prevented it. Since there's no place for you in another multiverse, he keeps you on his team both to give you asylum and to keep an eye on you just in case you prove to be an anomaly yourself....but it becomes pretty clear pretty early on that you're not really a threat. Not for violence, at least.
You're just a sweet thing that gets doted on by nearly everyone in the society--you're either a refreshing break from the endless spiderman variants running around or you remind the spiders of their Mary Janes, their Gwen Stacies, their Gayatri Singhs, and being a civilian to boot makes you the perfect candidate to have your things carried for you and be given web-slinging rides around the facility even though you're supposed to be the assistant here.
But even so, even though you're treated so lightly, Miguel really likes you and even--gasp--enjoys your company. It can be hard to tell with him, but the most perceptive of the spiders notice that Miguel keeps you in his good graces always. When he's stressed or in a bad mood, he collects himself before he speaks to you. He never snaps at you, and on the very rare times you get caught in his crosshairs, he apologizes quietly and gently and reiterates that whatever it was about, it wasn't your fault. He gives you so much wiggle room for error to the point that his companions sometimes complain outright that he's such a hardass, but he never berates you when you make a mistake, and without fail Miguel will come up with some reason for it; "That's because they don't screw up as often as you do" or "At least I can trust them to do their job", or he'll just tell whoever's bitching to leave you out of it and he'll dismiss you to discuss the matter privately.
Surprisingly, those incidents don't bother him nearly as much as when the inner circle starts getting closer to you. He feels this deep need to pull you away when Gwen offers to take you on a trip through the dimensions (although that's just plain dangerous), but it also bubbles up when Hobie hangs around and encourages you to join his band, and when Jess asks you questions about your life and is eager to hear about any potential romances you might be getting yourself into--there's a lot of single spider-people out there, and you're not tied to any dimension, so you've got plenty of options!
God, Miguel hates when Jess brings that up. You don't need to go anywhere, your place is here. You can stay here safely, which is something he can't promise in any of those other dimensions the spiders come from. But that's not the real reason, he realizes that when he feels that tingle at the sight of you holding Mayday and playing with her, having been given the task of impromptu babysitter for Peter when he has to rush off and do damage control somewhere.
It's you. He likes having you around, and it's not about letting you venture off into other dimensions, he just doesn't want you to leave him. That's why he loves it when you reply to those people, when you tell them "Oh, but I couldn't leave Mr. O'Hara! He'd lose his head without me." or "I really like this job, actually. I wanna keep working under Mr. Miguel." and especially "Miguel saved my life, I owe him all I can give. I could never leave him all alone." because it just reaffirms that desire for him to keep you as close to his side as possible. When he replays those videos of himself and his daughter, the pain is dulled for a while as he sees your eyes in hers, and envisions a future where you create a new family with him--one that he can properly protect this time.
It's that fantasy that emboldens him to lay hands on you, your body so puny and small in comparison to his massive frame, so fragile as he holds your hips in both hands and waits for you to tell him this isn't really what you want. He's waiting for it, anticipating it, even reminding you that you have the option when you look up at him shell-shocked. He promises that your answer won't affect your position here. It falls on deaf ears, however, because you desperately want to kiss him but you just don't think you can reach.
It's so adorable to see you try. Up on your tiptoes, clutching at his suit, straining to try and reach him where he's at--all it takes is an arm around your waist and he's got you off your feet and in the air, perfectly situated to press your pretty mouth to his own and awaken his instincts that have laid dormant all these long years. The stress of keeping each and every dimension following its intended canon has nearly broken him, it might have done so already if not for your unexpected appearance in his life. It's riled him up so much he doesn't think twice about taking you back to his place, nor gives him second thoughts when you help him peel that tight suit off and he tears through your clothes just as easily--maybe it really doesn't matter. His world is gone and so is yours, but you're both still here and you're begging him for another kiss, for more attention. How sweet could you possibly be? Pleading for something you'll always have and not realizing it's the least you deserve, perfect as you are?
Miguel just can't help himself anymore, he's too far gone and you’re too angelic for him to let down when you want him so badly. You don't seem to mind the rough treatment as he pushes you down either, no, you thrive on his aggressiveness and even encourage it to come out as he clambers over you. That pretty smile and those giggles as he shoves your thighs apart and spits, his venom sending electrifying tingles up and down your spine as he fingers the makeshift lube inside you. He's so bulky you can't even get your legs all the way around him when he lowers himself, forced to let your heels scrabble down his lower back as you struggle to find some kind of purchase on him--to just grab something and let it keep you steady as he slides in and rocks you into oblivion. The toxins loosen you up too, thank god, or else you'd be seriously struggling to take him in when he's practically twice your size. And he doesn't want to force it in, he just wants to ease you into the process before he allows himself to batter your poor body with thrusts that shake the whole bed--it's a little bit of payback for flaunting your pretty self around his office without ever telling him how you actually feel about him. Now you know exactly what you've been missing.
Drooling, hair sticking to your skin, sweat dripping down your chest, body gripping him like a vice yet endlessly slick....you're a total mess and he couldn't be more satisfied. You don't even try to keep yourself together, but that's all that he wants--he wants you to lose yourself in the way he makes you feel so you won't ever want to leave. The taboo is there; you're not from his dimension, he shouldn't be planning any kind of future with someone who doesn't belong in his world. But it makes it all more thrilling in the moment even if he can reason his way around it, it makes his every thrust gain power until he's breaking your willpower down enough to have your eyes rolling back in your head, hips jumping weakly as you try to participate. You don't even know how good you make him feel without lifting a finger.
Gliding through you as if you couldn't be more willing to take him, his position is clear just from a glance down at your stomach--the bulge is obvious, and as sickening as it could be your whines as you brush your fingertips over it sing his praises without a coherent word. You're so wet and stupid and needy on his cock, clearly he should've done this a long time ago when you were so much worse at hiding your pining looks at him from across the room. If he knew it would culminate into this, he would've saved the assistant crap and turned you into his stress relief toy that very first day. If he had, you might've already had a family by now....knowing him, at least.
It's still just as sweet to lick your tears up now, though. You're already drunk on his cock, it doesn't make much more difference for him to sink his fangs into your throat and pump you full of more venom straight from the source, the shock sending you straight into orgasm and dragging it out for so long he fears you might just pass out from the pleasure. It's like he's juicing up a plump little fruit until it's so ripe it could burst. And as if your own ecstasy wasn't enough, you really lose it when Miguel has you pinned and flooding that sore, fluttering little hole with so much seed it burns. Jets of pearly-white cum squirting down your thighs, painting you like a canvas without him even pulling out, because you just can't take him at his peak and you know it. You just have to whine and squirm beneath him as he fills you up, his hot breath puffing over your cheeks as he keeps you barely still enough not to wiggle away. With a shift of your hips you nearly slip off right up to the tip, his cum sloshing about and making everything too slick--but a hand slides up your neck and grips the crown of your head, his biceps flexing as he slowly pushes you back down with vermillion eyes piercing through your heated flesh. Lower, deeper, until he's seated himself up in your guts again and holds you there to milk those last few shots out of him, keep him nice and warm with those precious walls uncontrollably spasming around him. Doesn't stop you from pulling his head down closer, though, and whispering your praises while begging in whimpers in equal measure, urging him not to stop now. You're not ready to let him go.
How convenient is that? Miguel won't ever let you go, and he's known that deep in his chest since the moment you arrived--it couldn't make him any more satisfied to know that you feel the exact same way.
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aemndx · 2 years
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okay…. but imagine having aemond stuff his cum back inside you, loving to press his seed back inside your overstimulated cunt and breed you every day—
— 𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐀𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐃𝐒.
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gif credit.
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© aemvnd 2022. do not plagiarize, translate, modify or post my content on any other platform.
author’s note: y’all betta know…… i just had to write something for this -- my imagination ran absolutely wild with this one. i didn’t wanna write a lot, just somethin mini for myself to get these sinful thoughts outta my head… im sorry in advance. ♡ if you enjoyed – please reblog, comment + leave ur feedback! thank u & happy reading. :)
warnings: minors dni. smut. breeding kink. p in v sex (slight). fingering. cunnilingus. female pronouns. possessive behavior. dark!aemond. wife!reader. overstimulation kink. pain kink. pet names. romance. fluff. any grammatical errors are my own – in advance, i sincerely apologize.
word count: 2,3k.
pairings: aemond targaryen x reader (f).
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♡࿐ bliss.
true, undying bliss overwhelmed you, completely.
“you’re so perfect for me, my sweet girl,” aemond murmured, leaning down to press a loving kiss against your forehead, lingering there and closing his eye for a moment, breathing you in.
pulling back after a few seconds, aemond observed your face closely, feeling a warm sensation tugging at his blackened heart, feeling it crack into a million little pieces, watching you gaze back up at him in awe.
there was a soft look in your doe eyes, wide and innocent and full of love.
love for him, your husband.
aemond would never admit it, but he was almost certain that the very same look graced his face too, softening his sharpened features with equal amounts of–if not more–love.
with a deep groan, aemond thrusted his cock inside your cunt a few more times, feeling your inner walls tightening around him, wanting to keep him inside and milk him dry.
a faint, little mewl escaped your swollen lips, making aemond lean forward again and capture your lips with his, kissing you slowly and passionately. the wet, warm muscle of his tongue slipped out, licking your bottom lip, before tugging it gently with his teeth, causing you to moan.
you wrapped your arms tighter around his neck, pulling him flush against you – his naked, hard chest was pressed against yours, constantly brushing over your sensitive nipples, a whine making its way up your throat.
aemond smirked, reaching one hand up and tangling his fingers into your messy locks of hair, his other hand holding on to your hip to stabilize himself so to not crush you with his body.
“…mmm – gods, you were made to take my cock,” aemond purred against your mouth, slipping his tongue inside, your tongues slowly caressing each other’s sensually, neither of you in any rush.
“i love you,” you whimpered, your mouths molding together as one – perfection.
with one last gentle thrust of the prince’s hips, he squirted his warm cum inside of you, his load entering your womb.
aemond stilled his hips, your fluttering cunt sheathing his cock, making aemond throw his head back with a feral growl.
with his cock still buried to the hilt in your pulsing cunt, aemond squeezed your hip that he was holding, digging his fingertips into the sweaty flesh as he felt his cock twitch inside of you, softening and feeling spent.
immediately, he collapsed on top of you, his face nuzzled into your neck. sleepily, he started leaving little kisses against the salty skin of your neck, sucking on your pulse point, feeling your fingers gently brush through his long hair.
aemond practically purred, the feeling of your nails scratching lightly at his scalp, always a sweet comfort. “sweet girl… ‘m gonna try something,” aemond mumbled, though he did not move for a few more minutes, completely relaxed in the safety of your arms.
however, you did not mind – especially the feeling of his large cock still buried deep inside you, making your insides begin to tingle again, your belly tightening at the thought of his royal seed settling in your womb.
gods be good, you prayed silently for a son of your own to give to your dear husband.
you loved aemond more than anything – more than life itself, all that you wanted was to give him everything he wanted… most importantly, you wanted to give him all the love in the world, including an heir of his own.
suddenly, aemond slowly pulled himself out of you with a sharp hiss, not hearing you wince slightly at the uncomfortable feeling of being empty overcame you. you tried to suppress it, making your face remain neutral.
the prince simply leaned back on his knees between your spread thighs, tilting his head back and releasing a deep sigh of satisfaction. then, his head looked back down towards you, his one eye sharp and observing you, as usual.
aemond always enjoyed watching you, he liked making you feel uncomfortable, especially when around him, watching the way you’d start to overthink everything about yourself, making yourself think – was there something wrong with you?
it amused him greatly, no matter how many times he’d done it to you.
however, no matter how much the prince could be cruel, he’d never intentionally hurt you. releasing a calming sigh, aemond’s large hands moved to grasp both of your thighs, squeezing them and then shaking them a bit, watching them jiggle slightly with a twitch of his lips.
he adored your thighs.
then, his head snapped back up to look at you, his eye piercing and observing your naked figure, admiring it without shame.
the prince looked at the soft delicateness of your pretty face, down to your neck and collarbones that were littered in love bites from him, to both of your breasts which were swollen from him sucking and biting on them earlier, until you cried out his name.
you watched him trail his eye down further until he stopped at your bare cunt, watching it with an amused glint in his violet eye, his seed dribbling out of you slowly.
smirking, the prince seemed to have thought of a idea.
aemond slowly looked back up at your face, the sapphire that rested in the socket of his missing eye sparkled from the massive fireplace – although, you did not look away from him. if you knew anything about your husband, you knew how he loved a challenge, and you were not going to be the first one to look away.
no, not this time.
chuckling softly underneath his breath, aemond clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, before raising an eyebrow at you.
“will you be a good girl for me?” he asked, his tone flat but there was that hint of amusement hiding somewhere underneath.
if you didn’t know any better, you’d think the prince was up to something.
you gulped, nodding your head and started fidgeting with your hands, making him tsk at you, slapping your hands away. instantly, you stopped – nervousness eating away at you as you dropped your arms directly by your sides, waiting.
aemond hummed, nodding once before shifting his body so that he was now laying on his stomach, resting comfortably between your spread, open thighs. your cunt glistened beautifully, making aemond’s eye dilate with need and a feverish lust.
as he laid down, he could feel his cock twitch underneath himself, no doubt hardening once again. he couldn’t control himself when he was around you, you drove him nearly insane with a need to have you – always.
“my pretty little wife..” aemond drawled, his hands creeping up to rub up the outside of your thighs, his hands warm and comforting.
“you’re even pretty here, too,” he murmured, no doubt smirking as he heard you take in a sharp breath, his lips connecting to your mound, peppering kisses along the skin and across your hipbones.
he rubbed his warm, large hands up and down the outside of your thighs, closing his eye as he was merely enjoying himself – kissing, sucking, biting your hot skin into his mouth, moving down until his lips wrapped around your swollen, overstimulated clit.
you cried out into your shared chambers, one of your hands reaching up and grasping hold of one of the many pillows–one that happened to have belonged to aemond, since you loved to lay on it since it smelled like him–fisting your small hand into the soft material.
you immediately wrapped a leg around his head, unconsciously pulling him closer against your cunt, wanting more.
always, always wanting more of him.
aemond had made you come so many times tonight–too many times–that you had lost count.
without warning, aemond removed a hand from massaging the meat of one of your thighs and brushed a finger up your dribbling slit, gathering his cum that was leaking out and stuffing it back inside you.
you whimpered, fisting the pillow and the silk sheets below you, your head thrown back and your eyes rolling into the back of your head, feeling him curl the finger inside of you.
aemond hummed, continuously sucking and sending vibrations through your sensitive, little clit – before adding two more long fingers, stuffing them inside and just leaving them there, not moving.
almost like a plug.
minutes had passed, with just him sucking and flicking your clit back and forth with his hot tongue, though he fingers did not move, only remaining plunged inside of you, causing your walls to tighten and flutter, endlessly.
“aemond..!? what.. w-what are you doing?” you heaved, your chest rising and falling quickly, feeling your belly tighten once again, painfully – your muscles sore and aching now as you could feel yourself about to come again.
“please, aemond – i am going to come again,” you sobbed, sweating profusely and your heart feeling like it was about to explode in your chest.
aemond nodded, not missing a beat, “go on, then.”
“no..! no, no, no – please, aemond.. i cannot. it hurts, it hurts so much…” you sobbed, tears now burning your eyes, falling freely. your throat felt like it was on fire, as well as like it was closing from you gasping in too much air, trying your hardest not to come again.
however, aemond continued his ministrations on your clit, not stopping for a moment and evening wiggling his three fingers that were inside of you–keeping his cum from leaking out of you again–and with his other hand dug his fingers into the meat of your thigh that he was still holding, making you yelp in painful pleasure.
you were exhausted.
“p-please.. please,” you sniffled, shaking your head and begging.
aemond growled, pinching your thigh and then slapping it harshly in punishment, feeling you wiggling around too much.
“be sweet, wife – stop moving and come for me again,” he commanded, his words muffled but you could still understand him.
you choked on your own saliva, “oh, gods..” you whined, feeling your muscles tense and tense and tense, before the band inside of you snapped like a violin string and you let out the most earth shattering screech.
you cried your husband’s name over and over again, feeling aemond quickly squeeze in a fourth finger, beginning to curl all four of them inside of you, feeling your walls clamp down around them.
you were honestly afraid – afraid that he would want to see how much you could take and shove his entire fist inside–(you had heard ladies of the court gossip that their husbands had done that to them, and it was the most painful experience)–you never wanted to find out for yourself.
luckily, for you – even in your blissed out mind, you trusted your husband, knowing he liked pushing you to your limits, but knowing exactly how much you could take.
your thighs were quivering, your orgasm washing over you in tsunami waves of endless pleasure, with aemond continuing to gently lick your clit now, barely applying actual pressure – though his fingers remained.
“so, so perfect for me.. you’d done so well for me, my sweet girl.”
a genuine, dopey smile tugged at your lips, feeling relieved that you had pleased him, again.
once your high had calmed down, aemond pulled his mouth away from your clit, resting the left side of his face on your thigh, glancing up at you with a small smirk on his handsome face, watching you try to keep your eyes open.
“enjoy yourself, did you?”
you giggled, nodding your head yes. “i thought i was going to black out,” you confessed, embarrassment flooding your veins.
aemond lightly chuckled, “wouldn’t be the first time.”
you looked down, pouting and making him laugh harder, giving a sweet kiss to your thigh, before locking his violet eye with yours once more.
gods, how he loved you.
“i’m just teasing, my love.”
your eyebrows furrowed, “no, you are not,” you said, knowing he was speaking the truth – in fact, you had blacked out before while he was fucking you, his love for overstimulating you overwhelmed you.. time and time again.
although, you did not mind so much.
nonetheless, you liked to tease him back and pretend you hated it when he teased you – both of you knowing full well that you secretly adored it, just as much as he.
aemond snorted, before lifting his head and leaning forwards again, giving your clit a kiss, feeling you tense up immediately. “relax,” he said, eyeing your face. “i think you’ve had enough for tonight.”
you flushed, feeling his fingers twitch inside of you, before pulling them out slowly and began observing them.. they were drenched in his cum and yours, practically dripping on to your sheets.
aemond felt the corner of his mouth tug up, before opening his mouth and shoving all four fingers inside, sucking both of your mixed essence right off, swallowing with a low hum of approval.
your eyes widened, but then you licked your lips, watching him suck and work his tongue between each of his digits, his eye locked on yours as he put on a little show for you, smirking playfully.
with a pop of the last finger, he smiled, “delicious.”
you didn’t say anything, you couldn’t – you couldn’t even begin to describe how unbelievably attractive your husband was… and he was all yours.
“i love you,” you blurted out, but meaning it anyways. you were always more of the sentimental one between you two, but you could see the softness settle over aemond’s face every time you told him those three little words.
those three little words held so much meaning to him, especially coming from you.
aemond didn’t respond – instead, he climbed up your body, being careful not to crush you and settled until he was hovering above you, his face only mere centimeters away from yours. “..i love you, my beautiful wife.”
fin
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feel free to send in requests / thots here.
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nonasuch · 2 years
Text
here is a fun little star wars scenario that has been pinging around inside my head like a screensaver:
so let’s say there’s some very zealous, very low-ranking fresh young Imperial officer on duty the day they take the Senator from Alderaan into custody. 
and he is very very nervous because a) he’s been here for like a week and b) none of that week required him to be in a room with Darth Vader. which he now is. so he is trying to focus very very hard on Doing Everything Exactly According To Protocol, as a means of not focusing on the seven-foot evil wizard standing fifteen feet away.
and part of the protocol for processing new prisoners is to make a new file for them in the prisoner database, and enter all their biographical details and vital statistics and a gene sample and their known associates and the nature of their terrible crimes against the Empire and so on. which he does! very meticulously!
except the computer keeps throwing an error message. the stupid thing keeps beeping at him, this awful grating little noise that makes his shoulders ratchet up tighter and tighter every time it honks at him, and he can’t fix it and Darth Vader is right over there—
except oh god oh fuck the beeping noise must be annoying Darth Vader, too, because he’s coming over here and our poor junior officer is convinced he’s going to die before he even lives long enough to send his first paycheck home to his poor widowed mother —
he stammers out an apology. Vader just stares at him. he swears he’ll figure out the problem right away, sir, it’s probably a bug in the system, it’s just that for some silly reason it keeps saying this gene sample doesn’t match the one on file for the Senator so he can’t get her logged as a new prisoner just yet —
“Dismissed,” says Vader. the poor kid flees, gratefully.
Vader considers the matter. in fact, his underling was correct: the gene sample, which he saw taken through his very own helmet lenses, does not match the official record of Senator Leia Organa, heir to the throne of Alderaan. so: perhaps the sample on record was falsified. not impossible, but very, very difficult. and ordinarily a crime attempted by the lowly and desperate. he cannot see any need for it, in the daughter of a queen.
another possibility presents itself. Alderaan has no history of using royal doubles, as some worlds do. but Bail Organa has worked closely with royal houses where the practice is long-established. perhaps he was inspired. perhaps the girl they captured is not Leia Organa at all.
Vader runs the gene sample against the ship’s database. it is woefully incomplete, of course, containing only a fraction of the Empire’s billions of citizens: the ship’s own complement, a selection of known criminals and Rebels they might encounter, high-ranking officials whose identity must be confirmed should the Emperor require their presence. unlikely that this girl, whoever she is, would have a record here, or even a partial match—
the computer beeps at him. it’s a cheerful beep, this time, not the error message that stymied the junior officer. the computer reports that the gene sample is a partial match for Pooja Naberrie, the Senator from Naboo. they are, with eighty-nine percent probability, first cousins.
and Vader just. kind of stands there. for a minute.
when he goes to Leia’s cell, there’s no interrogation droid with him. he goes in. he shuts the door behind him. he stands there, silent, for frankly a worryingly long time, until Leia has run through her entire stockpile of  “how dare you, I’m a member of the Senate on a humanitarian mission” and “whatever you want, you can’t possibly think I would be of any help” and “well, if you’re going to interrogate me, get on with it already” and “are you even listening to me?” and  falls silent herself. 
Vader has been listening to her. he has also been listening to the Force, which seems to think that she’s not lying. obviously the humanitarian mission part is bullshit, that goes without saying. but the “I’m Senator Leia Organa” parts and the “I won’t help you” parts? yeah. he searched his feelings. he knows them to be true. the Force is singing in his head, bright and clear, in a way it hasn’t for nearly twenty years.
there’s still Tarkin to deal with, though. Vader turns and leaves the cell without a word.
Tarkin wants to blow up Alderaan. this is unacceptable, obviously, and Vader forbids it on the grounds that the Queen and the Viceroy possess vital intelligence, not disclosed to their daughter, that must be acquired. said intelligence being, not that he’s saying this out loud, how the fuck Bail got his hands on his daughter, and who else knows about it.
“the fate of the galaxy rests on it,” is what he does say out loud. from the way the Force harmonizes with his words, that might even be true.
so the Death Star just. parks there. in an incredibly threatening orbit around the planet. they issue a demand that the Organas surrender themselves, or else, but apparently the happy couple just left for a low-tech weekend retreat in the mountains, what awful timing, they’re sending someone to fetch them right away. Vader shuts himself up in his quarters, to seethe and watch the surveillance feed from Leia’s cell. he’s not really paying attention to much else. 
and it’s not like a random freighter getting tractored in for being an incredibly obvious smuggling vessel is the kind of thing you’d alert Darth Vader over, anyway. 
so he’s still sitting there, one great big thought filling up his whole entire head, watching Leia take a frustration nap, when her cell door opens. 
and a trooper comes in.
and the trooper takes off his helmet.
and he says, “I’m Luke Skywalker. I’m here to rescue you.”
(continued here)
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requinoesis · 5 months
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A new trio of nerdy sharks appears in NewReef City!🏝️✨
I think I got too immersed in the indie shark band that I started to forget the other important characters in the story I wanted to tell, and the heart of the story lies in these three children.
⭐Hanna (Bonnethead Shark) - is the mediator of the trio, with contagious energy and the ability to adapt to the most unexpected challenges. Their optimistic and cheerful nature makes them an invigorating presence and their outspoken sincerity can hurt unintentionally, but their quest for harmony makes them a reliable friend on lifes journey.
⭐Lucca (Zebra Shark) - is the brains of the trio, always with his feet on the ground, perhaps too much so. Although sometimes hard-headed, they is a reliable friend who brings practical solutions, keeping the group on an even keel. Behind his reserved nature lies a world of deep thoughts.
⭐Macco (Mako Shark) - is the creative soul of the trio, a hyperactive dreamer. His vivid imagination and love of adventure is inspiring, always spotting the unique in the little details that go unnoticed. Although his impulsiveness and occasional lack of focus can lead to unusual situations, in the end it is his empathy that always brings the friends together.
They have this strange coincidence of having repeated letters in their names and faithfully believe that this is a cosmic sign that they were meant to be friends!✨
Originally, the idea for them was born out of the specific artwork I did for Sharktober 2020. It all started with Macco, this little mako shark who loves video games. Over time I ended up creating two friends for them who would be Hanna and Lucca, I changed their design a bit and now everything has expanded to a whole city.
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The idea is that it's a story about the abstract dreams and idols that inspire these three children. Macco wants to be a racing driver and is inspired by a famous driver who is a mako shark, Lucca wants to be a writer and is inspired by a high fantasy writer who is a whale shark, while Hanna wants to get involved in music and is inspired by an indie band, already known here.
But it is through life's adventures that they will discover their true virtues, which are closer than they realize. While other characters' parallel stories are happening and a big mystery will connect everyone to a common event.
At some point, if my chaotic life allows, I'll update the post with more news about them! I hope you enjoy it! 🦈✨
I apologize if there are any English errors in this gigantic text sdfjkgsdfg
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thehighladywrites · 6 months
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— “tell me you’re mine.” “ i’m yours.”
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☀︎ — pairing: azriel x afab!reader
☀︎ — summary: you dream that azriel was cheating on you and now you can’t look at him without being annoyed. It’s not really his fault, but still… azriel reassures you, promising that you’re the only one for him.
☀︎ — warnings: a sprinkle of angst, fluff, a bit of crack, smut, oral (m. receiving), fingering, dirty talk, fluffy smut ngl, mentions of crying, cursing, mentions of hickeys and bruises
☀︎ — amara’s note: i loved writing this, also this is my apology fluff fic for the angst fic. hope you liked it! also english isn’t my first language so if you see any grammar errors, no you didn’t 🫶🏽 i think this is my proudest work🥹
tags: @callmeblaire @rowaelinsdaughter @azrielslightintheshadows @hauntedwitch04
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Azriel’s brows furrowed as you avoided his hug for the second time today and just walked past him, acting like he wasn’t more than a ghost. This whole brushing him off thing had been going on all day and he was genuinely confused. Were you in a bad mood? Was your cycle coming? Azriel knew you were emotional during this time, but you usually stuck to him like glue.
He checked his mental calendar - no, not for another two months.
Did he say something to you? He replayed everything he said and every conversation you had yesterday and today but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
Well, except for the fact that you were flat out ignoring him.
Azriel felt distressed over the fact that you ignored him, and he just wanted to be closer to calm down. Knowing he might have upset you, deeply unsettled him, prompting a strong desire to bridge the emotional gap between you.
Azriel found solace in your presence whenever he felt upset. You'd sprawl on the plush bed, arms open wide, inviting him into your embrace with a soft and tender expression. His head would rest on your chest, settling his weight on you, comforted by the beat of your calming heartbeat. It was a sweet sanctuary he sought when the world felt heavy.
There was nothing calm or sweet about the way you didn't spare him a second look, pouting as you carried on with your day. Occasional dagger stares shot his way, and even though you thought he didn't notice, he did. Of course, he did. The tension in the air was palpable as your silent discontent lingered.
Azriel decided to start small and ask an easy question, not daring to accidentally say something that will set you off.
“So, angel, what have you done while I was gone? Is the book you picked out yesterday any good?”
Sipping on the delightful peppermint tea, you huffed and snorted, keeping your gaze fixed on the window from the comfort of the soft sofa in the sitting room.
“Well, wouldn’t you just love to know?”
His brain was scrambled at this point, desperately attempting to save the clearly and very obviously dying conversation.
“Uh, yes? I’d love to know. If you don’t want to talk about the book then that’s fine but-”
“You’re just giving up so easy, Azriel. Atleast fight a bit. No wonder you cheated on me…”
Huh? What the actual fuck?? Confused and shocked, his brain went haywire, jaw dropping as he struggled to find words. A bewildered look crossed his face as he grappled with the unexpected situation.
He cheated on you? What were you talking about? The mere thought of being near another woman made him nauseous. Really, he didn’t like being around people at all, so the thought of going out of his way to find someone and then invite them to bed was something that made him shiver.
“What are you saying? I would never be unfaithful to you, please let’s just talk.” he dropped to his knees infront of you, panicked, trying to find the words to explain himself and to clear his name of something he didn’t do.
“You cheated on me. Yeah, with some blonde girl. And you seemed to enjoy it, too. Ugh, I’m so pissed, I can’t even look at you.” You put down your teacup a bit too hard as you folded your arms over your chest, glaring out the window in silent anger.
The crackling of the hearth was the only sound as Azriel's face paled. He was at a loss – how did you come to believe he was unfaithful? Where did these thoughts come from? The mystery hung in the air, a palpable tension challenging the warmth of the fireplace.
“If I truly was unfaithful, can you provide details? When did this happen, and where was I with this girl?” You felt his pleading, questioning stare burn into you from where he knelt.
Okay, so maybe you shouldn’t keep this up. He didn’t actually cheat on you. It was a dream but it felt so realistic that when you woke up and saw him besides you, you actually snarled. There you were, struggling to look at him without mentally replaying the scene of some random woman giving Azriel's body a tour. Fucking hell, you had never felt such betrayal and hurt by something that didn’t even happen.
But it felt silly to tell Azriel that you were mad at him for something your subconscious created , a dream you had dreamt. So you simply avoided him instead.
But damn, he was persistent.
Perhaps it was irrational, but you felt a desire to stir up some drama, maybe hoping to shake things up a bit.
“Okay, Azriel, I’ll spill. Yesterday at Rita’s, this blonde woman was all over you, touching everywhere. And you, shamelessly soaked it up like it was a spa. In my dream you also smiled as you held eye contact with me. You totally knew I saw you and did it anyways.” You looked away, breathing deeply as the memories invaded your mind.
Azriel felt a combination of relief and disbelief as you revealed it was all a dream. But he wouldn’t downplay what you imagined since he deep down felt your hurt through the bond. You had already been married for decades but the bond had snapped about 7 months, still new, so he understood that seeing him with someone else was hard. Hell, he’d feel absolutely murderous if he ever dreamt of some male feeling you up and fucking you, even if it was a dream.
He stood up as he dragged you to your feet and tilted his head, assessing if he should approach you or not,
“Sweetheart, you know I'd never do such a thing, right? How could I ever be unfaithful to you, my sweet girl? You're my perfect mate, my loving wife, my everything.”
He stepped closer and closer until his enticing scent enveloped you. Oh, how did you go an entire day without being close to him? Your mate towered over you, gently gripping your chin and tilting your head up. His face mere centimeters away, a magnetic force pulling you into a moment that blurred any lingering doubts.
“ I love you more than anything on this planet. In no universe would I ever stray away from you - you’re my beloved home, my cauldron fated. Over my dead body would I ever entertain another woman. I’ve waited for over half a millennium for you and I’d wait a million more for just a minute with you, sweetheart. I will never allow myself to disrespect you like that ever, I promise.”
Tears welled up in your eyes as he drew closer, his soft lips meeting yours. In that moment, your love for him overwhelmed everything else. His gentle kiss offered reassurance and warmth, the sting of the bargain tattoo fading into the background as he continued, sending shivers down your spine.
Needing one last push of reassurance you beg him for a last sentence. Looking up at him with glossy eyes, you whisper,
“Say you’re mine. Say you belong to me.”
"I'm yours, I belong to you. Just as you're mine, you belong to me."
Tears streamed down as your heart raced, overwhelmed by his sincere devotion to you.
He wiped away your tears gently, his eyes filled with unwavering affection. “No more doubts, my love. We're bound to each other, and I'll spend every moment proving my devotion to you.”
His words hung in the air, creating a comforting embrace that removed any lingering insecurities, even ones in dreamscapes.
You slumped in his arms, finding solace in the embrace of his huge arms. He held you tightly, rocking you gently from side to side, creating a soothing rhythm. Your tears dried, replaced by a sense of calm as the only audible sound became the steady beat of his heart. Inhaling his calming scent, you grounded yourself in the reassurance of your mate's embrace.
Azriel tenderly stroked your hair, his touch a gentle reassurance. In a heartfelt moment, he pressed a soft kiss to your hairline, expressing his love and commitment without the need for words.
Your heart swelled with love, the connection through your bond overflowing with overwhelming warmth. The excess energy and love pulsated between you two, prompting you to contemplate a way to reciprocate the comfort and love to Azriel.
Lifting your head from its resting place on his chest, you stood on your tiptoes and initiated a kiss. Your arms remained cradled by him, your head guiding the motion as you continued to share this affectionate moment with your husband.
Azriel noticed the quickening beat of your heart, your eyes fluttering as the kiss deepened. He knew what you wanted and he couldn’t deny you ever. His lucious lips curving into a smile. You did your best to keep eye contact with him but it was difficult given that Azriels eyes had darkened over with lust, pupils expanding as his lids were slightly lowered.
Staring him dead in the eyes you whispered your desires,
“I want you. I want you everywhere. I want your mouth.”
You placed a kiss on his cheek.
“I want your hands.”
You kissed his other cheek.
“ I want you inside me, mate. “
You gave him a final kiss on the lips, sealing your wishes.
Azriel let his eyes flutter shut, struggling to tame his desires. He knew you inside and out, knew exactly what pace and setting you craved in that moment. Bending down to your level, Azriel picked you up, carrying you to the bedroom.
As Azriel carried you to the bedroom, you couldn't resist planting tender kisses along his neck, sucking and biting as you created bruises. The soft touch of your lips added a playful warmth to the moment and you couldn’t help staring up at him. His handsome features captivated you – the straight nose, sharp jaw, and beautiful eyes. He looked as if The Mother Herself had carefully carved him. His long, dark lashes and perfectly shaped brows added an extra layer to the masterpiece that was Azriel.
A possessive pride swelled within you. As you continued trailing kisses along his neck, you couldn't help but revel at the fact that Azriel was undeniably yours. A sense of exclusivity and fierce protectiveness filled your mind, boasting that no one would ever touch him the way you did, no one would ever love him the way you did.
‘Suck on that you blonde bitch’ was all you could smugly think.
Azriel gently placed you in front of the full-length mirror by your bed, positioning himself behind you. With deliberate care, he bent down, pressing kisses to your head, temple, ear, cheek, and finally, lingering on your neck. Each kiss was an expression of affection, creating a trail of shivers along your spine and arms.
His hands slid down to your waist, giving it a firm yet gentle squeeze. The slow, deliberate touch made the moment feel personal and intimate. You make eye contact with your husband through the mirror and slightly nod, giving him permission to continue.
You step back, making him feel your ass through his pants, grinding against him as his hands travel up to your breasts. Azriel lightly squeezes them before moving to play with your stiffened nipples. His moves elicit a gasp from you as you revel at the feeling of him touching you.
You press against him again, this time harder. Azriel hisses as he lightly grab your neck with one hand, focusing his clouded eyes on yours through the mirror.
“Watch it. This is about you, not me, baby.” He unzips your dress, letting it pool around your feet. Instinctively you bring your hands up to cover yourself up, looking away, and realizing that you’re in fact completely stark naked infront of your fully dressed mate.
Azriel is having none of it. He wants you to see how beautiful you are. Wants you to see how your face twist in pleasure. Wants you to notice your little quirks that you otherwise wouldn’t see. He wants you too see the goddess he’s worshipping every day.
“Eyes open, sweetheart. You have to see how beautiful you look.” His hands envelops yours as he lowers your hands, leaving you bare infront of him. You hear rustling behind you and feel a sudden warmth pressing against your back. Opening your eyes, you see Azriel undressed with his warm chest pressed against your back. He looked massive, wings splayed proudly behind him, big arms flexing as he leaned down. His lips pressed against your ear, and the hot breath sent shivers down your spine.
“You’re my perfect girl. Look at you, all nice and ready for me. Now, imagine I see this everyday, imagine you laying under me, taking me like a good girl. That’s what you are right, a good girl?”
You nod absentmindedly as your mind goes blank. You just wanna make him proud of you, just wanna please him. “Uh-huh ‘m your good girl, Azzie.”
He flashes you a smirk, hands traveling further down as he teases your clit before pushing in his finger. You let out a sound of pleasure as your head slumps back into his chest, his massive hand wrapping around your throat. In and out his fingers go as your pleasure rises, blood heating at the thought of him fucking you on the bed later. Your breathing unevens when he twists his fingers and presses his thumb on your clit, rubbing circles as he pushes in another finger.
Your eyes cross in delight when he curls his fingers and hits that spot that sends electricity through your body, making you grab onto his built forearm. Azriel whispers promises of nasty scenes, promises of ways he’ll fuck you stupid. He’ll make sure you’ll never think he’d stray away from you. He’d prove himself forever if that’s what it took for the thoughts to leave your head forever.
Not sure what the mood is today, you ask him for permission to come. If you normally did it without asking, he’d edge you. And that was just not something you wanted to happen today so better safe than sorry. But before you gather your pleasured mind and ask him, Azriel beats you to it.
“Cum on me. Let go on my fingers, beautiful. It’s okay baby, you deserve it. Don’t you think? After all, my girl gets what she wants.”
As if his words triggered something in you, he pumps once, twice and you let go as you scream out his name. Azriel keeps fingering you through your high, looking you deep into your eyes as he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks on them.
“Delicious.”
Your ears ring, and your vision blur as your knees wobble, nearly falling. Azriel swiftly picks you up, planting a reassuring kiss. He praise you, telling you how good you were and how proud he was. You couldn’t think straight, only wanting more of him.
He placed you gently on the bed, preparing to head to the bathroom for a cloth to clean you up, but you halted him with a request.
“Can I repay you Azzie?”
Your eyes sparkled, and your face glowed with a content smile. With a tilted head and a subtle pout, you hoped he would agree to your request. You were quite tired but you so badly wanted to please him back.
He sensed your exhaustion, and originally he was so supposed to keep going but you were half asleep. He changed his plans and shook his head.
“You’re tired, angel. Rest up, I’ll be fine.”
But you kept resisting, urging and pushing that you weren’t that tired. And since Azriel can’t say no to you, he accepts. You let out a small victorious sound and slither down the bed, making room for Azriel as he settled against the headboard. You moved in closer to him, leaning forward and arching your back. You look up at him once for confirmation and continue when he nods.
Without hesitation, Azriel's hands found their way into your hair, stroking your hair softly before skillfully gathering it into a makeshift ponytail. You fall on your forearms, propping yourself up and obediently await for his words of command.
Azriel gently gripped your chin, his thumb grazing your plump bottom lip. In that moment, words were unnecessary; you already understood what he wanted.
“You’re so beautiful like this.” His words makes you blush.
You look away from his intense eyes and lower your gaze, pulling a chuckle from him. “Baby, stop. You’re making me nervous,” you plead, giving him a cheesy smile you kiss his thigh and move on.
Trying to hide your flustered face, you start out slowly, teasing him with kitten licks all over his tip. Azriel’s hands tightened around your hair making you look up at him with a smirk as he grits out,
“Play later.”
You suck on the head, hollowing your cheeks, before slowly taking in more and more, struggling when you feel him hit the back of your throat. Your mind replays the lessons Azriel taught you, prompting you to inhale through your nose.
His head thrown back against the headboard as his mind swirls with pleasure. He lets out groans and hisses of pleasure, his deep voice letting out praises,
“Fuck, that’s it. Such a good girl.”
“You’re doing so good, keep going.”
“My beautiful, beautiful y/n. You should look like this all the time, mouth full of my cock. Wouldn’t that be something?”
Your mates praise makes your eyes gloss over in submission. There was really no better feeling than being praised and loved by him. Your Azriel.
By the way the muscles in his thighs started tensing you knew he was getting close. You suck your cheeks in more and take him deeper, trying to please him as best as possible. 
The room was filled with obscene noises and gags as he hit the back of your throat, bucking his hips.
Pulling away, you use your hand and twist it around his shaft while sucking on the sensitive head. Determined to make him finish, you throw in a few sentences you know will get him there faster.
“you’re so big Azzie, taste delicious too.”
“does my mouth feel good around your cock, az? you wanna cum?”
“let’s see if my pussy feels better, yeah?”
Before you can put him back around your mouth, he grabs your arms and drags you up so that you’re straddling his lap. Without warning he pushes you down on his cock as you let out a loud moan at the stretch.
“You’re right, your pussy does feel better.”
Your hands automatically grab onto his broad shoulders as you grind and bounce on him. You tighten around him as he brings his fingers down to your clit. Looking down on him, you find him smirking, satisfied that he caught you off guard. He knew you didn’t really plan on riding him but you were not fucking complaining.
Quite the opposite actually. You sounded like some deprived whore, moaning and babbling out in pleasure, licking and biting his neck and lips.
Both of you knew you were close. Azriel breathing quickened as you tightened around him.
“Tell me you’re mine.” A soft whimper escapes you as you gaze down at your man. His sweaty hair sticks to his forehead, a rosy blush adorning his cheeks and neck. In his eyes, full of love and affection, as he whispers for the second time today that he's yours forever.
“I’m yours, forever baby, I’m yours.” Azriel chants as he comes, body trembling as you grind on him,soon falling off your high and slumping against his chest.
“I love you so much, honey,” you whispered.
You looked up at him, tears welling up as Azriel held you close, making you feel overwhelmed by the depth of love. The connection between you was an unbreakable thread, weaving through your souls. In his embrace, every touch and shared moment became a testament to the bond you shared. The room faded away as your love for Azriel became an emotional beacon, each tear carrying the weight of countless cherished memories.
Oh, how you loved him.
In the quiet of the moment, Azriel gently wiped away your tears, his eyes reflecting the same depth of emotion.
“I love you too, sweetheart” he whispered, his voice a soothing balm to your overwhelmed heart.
The reassurance in his words melted away the pain, leaving only the warmth of shared love.
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gyummigon · 2 months
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like when we first met, i hate you and i love you | beomgyu
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beomgyu x fem!reader | playlist
୨୧ word count: 6.8k ୨୧ genre: angst, slight smut ୨୧ warning: non-explicit sex (or so i think), unspecified mental disorders and illnesses, depressive thoughts, thoughts of death, thoughts of loneliness, verbal incitement to suicide, very mild violence (not dating violence), unstable and unhealthy relationship, emotional dependency, mild family strife, and lots and lots of anguish. i don't suggest reading to anyone under 18, in fact don't read it if you are under 18. ୨୧ a/n: writing this was a challenge, but i consider it to be one of the writings i put more of myself into. thank you in advance to the people who are encouraged to read, and i hope i will not disappoint you. my native language is not english, so i apologize for any errors or inconsistencies in the text. have a nice weekend!
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It was easy for Beomgyu to feel trapped in his own mind, to mourn the days that were more than just lost; he swore that he remembered nothing of them, and yet they could bring him down at any moment.
He had spent nearly a quarter of his life living in hospital rooms, moving from one to another, but in the end remaining within the same four plain, pale walls. No matter how many times the morning came to him, or how long the night before, they meant nothing when all he could see was a ceiling that could only be distorted in the recesses of his mind. 
On this particular morning, the ceiling he saw as he lay sprawled on his bed was not the usual one. The sun's rays struck him from a different direction, the comfort of the mattress was not what his body was accustomed to, and the gentle puff of your breath beside him sent his mind wandering to alternatives that would save him from his growing need to flee your uncomfortable presence. 
Your situation was not entirely unfamiliar to you. You knew him too well to have any idea what was going through his mind. The guilt overflowed from the brown of his eyes and hit you almost as hard as the reality of waking up in the same situation again. As you felt the warmth of his body next to yours, you wished bitterly that he was a stranger, that way you could let him go without claiming the warmth you lost the moment nakedness stopped meaning anything.
"Beomgyu," you called him with an uncertain tone. You slid your head from the pillow to his chest and let his heartbeat against your ear flood your mind with fear. You wished you could control it and make it keep beating even if it wasn't for you. "Promise you won't let this happen again."
Beomgyu closed his eyes. The yellow color of your walls was too cheerful and always made him feel depressed. 
"I'll visit you tomorrow," was his answer. He gently put your head back on the pillow and started to get up.
A lump in your throat kept you silent as the raw fragility of his nakedness escaped the sheets. Even as she finished dressing and turned to look at you, you kept your attention on the place farthest from her eyes, afraid to get too close and discover that there were demons lurking there.
You and Beomgyu met in seventh grade, in the fall of 2016, under the rays of a bright sun and the orange hue of the leaves of an old oak tree. He had just transferred to the same school as you, but with his bright and enthusiastic personality, he had no shortage of friends, attention, or the furtive glances your curiosity encouraged you to give him. The first time you spoke to each other was after an embarrassing skateboard fall at school, but a handshake and a few awkward smiles sparked a bond that made you inseparable.
Aside from similar musical tastes and an interest in hiking, you didn't have much in common and were constantly having not-so-serious discussions about your differences. It was this contrast that made Beomgyu so eager to spend time with you. You were the respite from his usual routine, the color that was missing from the memories in his mind; the shade that waited to protect him from the sun, even though you were completely unaware of his difficulties. And things should have stayed there, in an innocent and uncomplicated friendship, but your childish need for romance and his urge for compression turned you from friends to lovers in a matter of months.
It was an inevitable fact from the beginning. He was a young man full of life carrying a heavy secret, and you were a naive young woman who didn't know what she was getting into when he opened the doors of his heart and you walked right in. By now, after six years of relationship, both of your hearts were worn out and the constant barriers that Beomgyu's unstable mental health put between you widened a distance that even monotony could not close. Beomgyu felt his soul heavy and dirty even when he was near you, the color of your life itself made him feel like a gray stain, and the shadow that once comforted him now burned him every time he tried to cling to its coolness.
"If I don't come tomorrow, don't go to the hospital until you've finished your homework, okay?"
The pain hidden in your silence made Beomgyu feel miserable and almost made him give in to your earlier request. Promising you was the right thing to do, but with him being meaningless, purposeless and pretending, how could he control himself not to come back here?
"You'll be all right, won't you?" he heard you say in a weak, languid voice.
He couldn't do anything but look at your grieving body under the sheets. He felt terrible, like a piece of trash. Every time he looked at you, he realized how disgusting he was for coming here and making you do all those things. He wanted to get down on his knees and beg for your forgiveness and at the same time berate you for letting him do it, for giving him your body even though it made you both feel dirty.
"I love you."
He wasn't sure if those words came out of his mouth and reached you, maybe he had buried them, forgetting their meaning and now they were just a broken compass. What day was it, could he go on or back? Was this the end of the story or had it just begun?
He hated himself so much.
A small smile that didn't reach your eyes spread across your face, you pressed the sheet to your body and propped your knees up on the bed so you could touch him. "Will you be okay?" you repeated as you traced the softness of his cheek with your fingers.
In a losing battle against despair, Beomgyu leaned his face into your touch and closed his eyes. He could not stop pretending that you were not the vessel into which he poured his misery. Every word out of his mouth seemed to weigh tons and lying was the only way to be with you more than just physically. 
"I'm trying."
"How long will you keep running away?"
Hearing you, Beomgyu opened his eyes and you sighed as the familiar feeling of fear and uncertainty washed over you as you looked into them. There was a heartbreaking fragility and desperation in them, the same one that was present every time he touched you and made love to you; the same one that remained when his lips moved slightly upward, giving you a faint glimpse of the hidden dimple on his cheek.
"I'm not running away, the hospital doors are always open."
"Beomgyu." You tried to sound stern, but the quiver in your voice at the mention of his name was noticeable.
"Don't worry," he murmured, putting his hands over yours to pull them away from his face. "You have enough burden with school, so avoid distractions and study hard, okay?"
"Then don't come back here, please."
"I'm so sorry." Beomgyu, with his eyes closed and a lump in his throat, placed a hand on your head and pulled you close to him to plant a kiss on your forehead. "Get some sleep before you go to school."
A helpless expression appeared on your face as Beomgyu gently stroked your hair before pulling away. You closed your eyes and bit your lower lip to stifle any more pathetic pleas from your mouth, listening to his every footstep taking him away from you.
An impulse made Beomgyu turn on his heels and look at you again. For some reason, when he saw the way you hugged yourself and closed your eyes tightly, a deep urge to die washed over him from head to toe. He thought he owed it to you after all he had put you through, that there was no other way to give you a chance to escape him.
With a sigh, he took one last look at you and turned his feet toward the exit of your room, offering you the only comfort of his absence and his silence.
And as every time you watched him leave, you felt that he took a piece of your soul with him.
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"You have to stop for a moment." You heard Hanna say as you both walked to your next class.
Walking across campus carried a weight that felt thicker in that moment. The weight of the morning was reflected in every step you took, shuffling your feet with the characteristic reluctance of one who has crossed an already too long college day. 
Your path to your next class is a routine one, but you have never been able to get used to the distance between one classroom and the next. As you made your way along the path of worn bricks and open spaces where the bustle of students mixed with the sound of car engines, you felt overwhelmed and anxious to get home as soon as possible.
"Take a break." Despite the weight of her guitar on her back and the art portfolio occupying her hands, Hanna moved forward beside you with lighter steps, keeping a calm tone in her voice. "You're starting to rub off on me with your negativity, if you're too tired to study then rest."
You sighed and looked at the time on your watch, your class had started five minutes ago and you still had a long way to go to get to the building where the class was. 
"You just don't get it, I rest every day even when I shouldn't," you said as you picked up your pace and Hanna mimicked you without any difficulty. 
"Procrastination is not rest, you have to really relax."
If your breathing hadn't been so fast due to the intensity of the walk, you would have sighed. From your perspective, the situation was more complicated. Your current emotional state was beginning to affect your academic performance, and you hated it. As a student of letters and a lover of reading, you had never fallen so far behind in your academic reading and homework. You were used to reading for school as much as for yourself, but in the last few weeks, it was impossible to even hold a book without being a matter of time or will. You couldn't find the concentration to be yourself anywhere, and you feared that if you didn't overcome the block and regain some focus, you would have to drop out of your classes before you failed. 
  The thought of doing poorly in school made you feel absolutely worthless and nervous.
"I'll try to change, just... don't tell Beomgyu. He's been a little intense lately about the idea that I'm doing well here."
"Why, is he pressuring you or something?"
You paused and thought about all the times Beomgyu told you to stay focused in school, to study hard and get the best grades. It always seemed to you that he said it in a sad rather than a demanding way.
"No, but the situation has been difficult since his relapse," you replied.
Hanna looked at you for a moment with her big, thoughtful eyes before she let out a sigh. "Y/n, since I met you your relationship has been difficult." 
"As long as he was under observation he would study online, but he became an irregular student. I guess that's thwarted his plans a lot and knowing my current situation will probably make him sensitive..." you tried to explain in a hurry, but stopped yourself when you couldn't ignore the little conviction in your words. Hanna gave you a reassuring smile and maneuvered her hands to free one of her arms for a few seconds and wrap it around yours. Both your legs slowed in unison and your body relaxed as you tilted your head and rested it on her shoulder.  "Do you love him?" 
Her question didn't surprise you, but you let a few minutes of silence pass between you before answering. For some reason, it was always difficult to talk about your relationship with Beomgyu; either they didn't understand it at all, or they understood it too much that you started to get the pity treatment. 
"Of course."
"As a boyfriend? I mean, do you love him romantically, not as a person you've known since puberty?"
You turned your head away from Hanna's shoulder and brought your gaze to an imprecise point in front of you. It wasn't always up and down with Beomgyu, the stability you both once had and kept you both so alive was as tentative as the current instability, the love manifested was as strong as the doubts. What did it matter how you loved him now, there was no way to know that it would make a difference. The two of you were bound together by more than love, you had a history with too many loose ends to tie up, words whispered in silence that needed to be heard and answered, wounds deep enough to choose to bleed without trying to close them. Yes, the distance was frightening, but you weren't defeated, you could take what you needed from each other to survive, and that wasn't necessarily wrong.
Except for the fact that neither of you were alive. 
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," Hanna's voice broke through your thoughts and brought you back to reality. You let out a sigh, each question weighing you down with exhaustion. "I just... I want to understand you."
"Does he seem bad to you?" you replied without a hint of anger or concern. 
"No, I like Beomgyu, I just... since I know him, he's kind of scary to me." 
"No, gosh... He's... the nicest, most sensitive guy I've ever met."
"Not that type of scary." 
When you heard these words, you felt frustrated. You didn't understand, even though you were also scared, you didn't understand what it was that Beomgyu reflected when he was with you that you couldn't see; because you were also absolutely terrified and couldn't identify the cause. 
"He's fine, Hanna." 
"And I'm so glad, but what about you?
You wished you could answer that question without your heart trembling with hesitation, but you were at a point where you doubted even your own words. What your mouth was saying and what Hanna could surely read in your eyes were contradictory things. If only you could have at least known which was true...
"I'm fine, okay?"
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Your eyes glided over each word on the page with an almost exaggerated slowness, you had read the same paragraph over and over again in the last few minutes, your head was throbbing and fatigue irritated your eyes, but they were not the reason for your lack of concentration, at least not the main one. 
Beomgyu sat a meter away from your desk, and you could feel his attention on every twitch of your facial muscles, on the movements of your hands, on the restless tapping of your foot on the floor. Those silences were the ones you hated the most to share with him, they made you insecure and any chance to approach him in a way that didn't make you feel suffocated slipped through your fingers. 
You closed the book with a sigh and turned in your chair to look at him. The dark circles under his eyes hardly surprised you, they seemed as dull as the last times you saw him, barely a spark to show they were still screaming inside.
"Are you done?" he asked, slurring his words, but you were sure he already knew the answer.
"I'm tired," you replied instead as you stood up and sought a safer position on your bed, away from his eyes.
"Me too..."
You sighed as you saw him shrink back into the chair and averted your eyes to the floor. You couldn't shake the desire to be silent that came over you every time you saw him, even you couldn't describe the feeling, it made you sick, afraid to say the wrong thing, to push down the hopes he could barely hold in his hands. You were so afraid of breaking him. Despite your caution, you admitted that you were one of those guilty of endangering the stability of the thin rope he was walking, because as long as you were together, you would be the person Beomgyu held his hand and led him to discover the worst ways to sabotage him. It was as if he was testing your criminal mind and inviting you to watch from the front row as he murdered his own dreams and hopes for life.
You snapped out of your thoughts as you felt the weight of his body sink into the mattress. You turned your face in his direction, slightly dazed as you watched him kick off his shoes and curl up into a ball under your sheets. You sighed, not resisting the urge to bring a hand up to his face and caress his cheek, the way you knew he liked it. 
"Lie down," he asked you in his little whisper. 
There he was, like a ghost in the darkness, looking at you with a longing that made your body tremble. Though he was overflowing with an inexhaustible weariness, and his features bore the nostalgia of the stars that once shone, he was heartbreakingly beautiful. His smooth skin had the feel of a misunderstood canvas, his eyes, deep and enigmatic, carried unreadable pleas. It was sadness embodied in the skin of an ethereal being, unable to be torn away. 
Your eyes closed unconsciously as Beomgyu leaned towards you after you obeyed his words, hiding his face in the curve between your neck and shoulder. The warmth of his body was always overwhelming, but his words had the power to slip between the trembling crevices of your heart and freeze its beating at will. 
"I miss you..." he murmured against your skin, the roughness of his fingers clinging to your hips and his nose sliding along your collarbone, enveloping your skin with his breath and stealing layers of your scent. "I miss you so much."
How many times had he said those words to you? You wanted to scream at him that you were here, that you hadn't gone anywhere, that he had you, that nothing would tear you from his side, but even you weren't sure of that anymore. 
"Me too, babe," you replied, lowering your face to his as his eyes sought yours. Damn it, you thought, it will happen again. 
Within minutes, Beomgyu's lips left your neck and traced a path down your belly. Silently, you gave his hands permission to roam beneath your clothes, to trace the curves of your breasts and massage your soft flesh. More than one sigh was stolen from your mouth as his fingers slid to the pointy centre of your breasts, sending a stream of emotion through the gentle pressure. You couldn't explain the emotion that was marked by the trace of his touch on your skin, it wasn't lust, it wasn't need, it wasn't passion, but it was soft and comfortable, just enough to seem like love, just enough to reduce the agony and inappetence of longing to something subtle. 
You whispered his name and cupped his face in your hands to draw him to you. Despite the suffocating emotion in the air, your bodies met in an anxious embrace, seeking solace and a cure for the raw hopelessness they could only express through gestures and silent caresses. The weight of his lips against your forehead made you close your eyes, almost begging him to never let go. Your lips ached with the need that filled them as the cold enveloped your body and replaced your clothes. But he did not kiss your lips, though they cried out in supplication, nor did you kiss his, knowing you would find the bitter taste of apology in them. 
You also helped him get rid of his clothes. You imitated his lack of shame and suppressed any negative emotions that would make you believe that seeing and touching him as you did was wrong. How could it be so wrong when you had Beomgyu in your hands, gentle, vulnerable and intense? Trembling sounds escaped his throat and bound your hands, begging for more. His hands tightened around you, his fingers sliding down each side of your neck and his thumbs pressing against the softest, most vulnerable part of your shoulders. You leaned into his direction, letting his warm breath brush against your ear. 
"My sweet Y/n..." Despite your skepticism that such a thing was possible, the sweetness in his voice made you believe that he really could feel the lost, that your body and voice could soothe his pain.
You kissed his hips with your fingertips, touching the roughness of his bones, holding him close as he wriggled against your touch. He responded just as sharply and slid one hand over your belly and the other between your legs where he pressed his fingers to your most sensitive spot, where pain and pleasure intertwined and sent a tightening sensation to your chest. "Beomgyu..."
"Shhh... it's okay."  He took hold of your knees and, as if he had forgotten his own frailty, he exposed you and adjusted your position for him. Your eyes sought his, eager to hold on to something, to reassure you that it wasn't a stranger touching you; to remind you that all was well, that you were safe. You wanted to find security and familiarity away from this quiet, reserved, sleepy version of himself, you wanted a smile of encouragement, one that would light up the night but not set the moon on fire. 
Beomgyu held your waist, preventing the involuntary, violent jerks of your pelvis. You swallowed saliva, dizzy and anticipating the raw invasion of his being inside you. 
"What's wrong?" you asked as you watched him look at you motionlessly. 
"You're not wet enough."
"It's okay, just do it."
 Beomgyu's lips brushed your cheek, his voice a whisper in your ear as he leaned closer. "I just want you to relax," he said. "Let me take care of everything." 
With a gentle tug around your waist, he sank you deeper into the bed, your head back against the softness of the pillow as he parted his body from yours to give him an open path for his hand to the shy, sensitive place between your legs. His fingers traced the inside of your thighs and slid down to the slit of your crotch, where he made circular motions with his fingertips for a few seconds before penetrating you.  
You closed your eyes and gasped for air. It was as if he was lulling you and slapping you at the same time. Part of you wanted to take it with or without pain because you didn't think you could take it much longer; another part of you, the more disillusioned part of you, wished it was him who gave up and ran away. You tried, you really hoped it would work. For a while, sex had been the relief for this raw ache, but nothing really cured it. No matter how many nights you devoted your body to Beomgyu's desires, there would always be a night when you would lock yourself in your room and cry for all that he lacked, for all that you couldn't give him, for all that you didn't want to give him. And he would know, he always noticed these things, the tears burning under the flesh of your cheeks. But he would not caress your heart as you cried, nor would his hands wrap around you as your mind and soul had done a thousand times with him. For Beomgyu would still be miserable, and neither you nor he was ready for him not to drag you down with him. 
Your body responded to the demands of Beomgyu's fingers and gave him what they were looking for. He clung to you as if he didn't want you to escape. You could feel his muscles tense and tremble, his breath in your ears, his heartbeat and breath on your skin. It was the only thing you could hold on to so that you wouldn't collapse right there. 
Beomgyu slid back, his fingers suddenly far away from the spot between your legs. The feeling of his emptiness inside you was such a familiar pain that you almost reached out for him for a moment, but the caress of his lips on your shoulder and that voice you missed so much brought your focus back to him.
"You're not leaving, are you?" he asked as he slid slowly and carefully inside you.
You didn't answer, you both already knew the answer.
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The silence in the room was overwhelming. You were lying on the bed, minutes had passed since your breathing had returned to normal, and now the only sound in the room was the pattering of the rain against the glass of your window. The sweat had dried on your skin and the sheets; your muscles, now relaxed, felt a slight sense of fatigue that made you want to stay in bed. 
You looked at Beomgyu's back and traced the curve of his posture with the pad of your index finger. The delicate contours of his vertebrae were illuminated under the dim light of your desk lamp, lacking muscular strength, with a fragility palpable in every stroke your finger outlined. 
"Don't come back tomorrow."
"Y/n..." he said in a vague form of protest, but you cut him off before he could say anything else. "I have an exam and I really need to study.
I'll visit you on Friday." There was a minute of silence in which you thought he would try to protest, but he just nodded.
"Well, uhm... Are you hungry?"
"Not really."
"You're thinner."
"Maybe."
"Have they been feeding you well?" He gave you a sideways glance and raised his shoulders reluctantly. "It's hard, I have no appetite."
"Hospital food is terrible, isn't it?"
"I guess."
You sighed and looked at the back of his head as if you could see through it. 
"It's not the kind of food we were made for," you replied, trying to lighten the mood. Beomgyu finally moved, turned around and his head landed right on your chest. You could feel his hands touching your ribs, his lips in your hair, your feet on his. "I could make you some fried rice," you continued. "So you can eat something."
"It's okay, just stay with you. I don't need any-"
Your eyebrows furrowed as he interrupted himself. He had raised his gaze and was now staring at you. 
"What's wrong?"
"You look pretty."
Pretty.
The mood in the room changed when he said those words. You held your breath. Everything around you seemed weaker, as if it would fall apart at the wrong sound. You wanted to speak, but you dared not, out of weakness, your absurd cowardice, to show what you were thinking inside. You didn't feel beautiful. You didn't feel loved. Oh, what a relief it would have been to be able to express it to him at that moment, what a different and less complicated way it would have been not to wait for your surroundings to collapse in order to tell him all that you were hiding inside. Maybe if habit did not keep you silent when misery hovers around you, maybe if darkness was not the only stimulus urging you to seek the light, maybe you would have said it. 
I feel lonely. 
"Let's cook something, you know, like old times, but this time without burning anything. Let's make gimbap, but not just any gimbap. We can look up my grandmother's recipe, remember? I made it once for your birthday, haven't made it since, but I don't think I've lost the touch. The recipe has to be out there somewhere. My mother..."
"Okay," he interrupted, surprising you with a kiss on the cheek. "Forget the gimbap, fried rice is fine."
"Do you... do you want to join me or would you rather stay here and rest?"
"It's okay, your sister could meet me any minute."
"I'll be back in a few minutes."
With an overwhelming hope growing in your chest, you left your room and went to the kitchen. The house was plunged into a terrible silence and you had to fight the urge to return to the room, knowing that you would not find a warmer atmosphere inside. But the silence didn't last long, just as Beomgyu had predicted, Leah, your older sister, closed the front door as you finished descending the last flight of stairs. You were wearing only a plus size t-shirt and your panties, so you weren't surprised by the annoyed look she gave you.
"Looks like the rain caught up with you after work." 
"He's here, isn't it?"
You weren't even surprised that she ignored your attempts to start a conversation away from Beomgyu. You rolled your eyes and headed for the kitchen without looking at her. "Oh, not again, Leah."
"That bastard," you heard her curse as she nipped at your heels. "He thinks he can do whatever he wants to you because of his illness?" 
"He didn't do anything to me."
"That's the problem, y/n. In your opinion, he never does anything."
"Mind your own business, Leah." You told her as you tried your best to look busy, moving your hands around the closet, but the truth was your hands couldn't even remember what they were looking for. You opened one of the cabinets, then another. By the third, you felt a little discouraged, so you opened the fourth. Your hands began to despair, until finally a small package of rice wrapped in plastic caught your eye. You gently picked it up and placed it in your lap as you pulled a wooden stool closer to the side of the counter and sat down.
"I'm minding my own business." She replied, standing behind you for a few moments, a tense silence settling between the two of you, and you didn't dare look her in the eye. You felt a pang of embarrassment.
"Leave me alone."
Leah took one of your hands and forced you to face her. "You know I don't like to keep quiet when it comes to this, I didn't before, I won't now. Even if my words are in vain, even if I don't have the right to tell you what to do, I won't swallow my disapproval of you continuing this story in which you are clearly not a heroine. You are a fool, just like mom, don't you see? You witnessed her long years of misery for what? To repeat history? What is broken only hurts."
"Stop." You pulled her hand hard. "This is between Beomgyu and me, no one else has any part in this. How many times do I have to explain myself to you?
Leah let out a frustrated sigh, she seemed to be debating your words and your back stiffened as you waited for her next attack, but the tension in your body turned to surprise when you felt her hand tugging at the collar of your shirt.
"Leah!" you screamed, but your attempts to push her away faltered as you became aware of what she was looking at with such displeasure. You didn't even remember the purple marks on your collarbone, they were old and therefore barely noticeable, but her sharp eyes hadn't missed them and her expression made it clear that he knew who the culprit was; which was just one more reason to increase her displeasure.
"I'm going to... God, that idiot..." After a few seconds of silence, you heard her sigh and turn away. You felt your stomach sink. "Is he upstairs?" 
"Leah, don't..."
Your reflexes were fast, but not fast enough to catch her before she came out of the kitchen. Less than a meter from the stairs, your fingers clutched at her clothes, perhaps too tightly, perhaps so desperately that it left your sister and you in disbelief. 
You thought of Beomgyu waiting for you in your room, vulnerable and feeble with his own thoughts. Maybe he agreed to let you cook for him because he wanted to be alone, maybe he called you pretty because it was easier than saying anything else. Maybe you loved him and it wasn't right. Maybe you hated him and he knew it. Maybe you took his sadness for granted, or maybe you should have understood that he wasn't worth it. But there was more, something darker than all possible answers, something you suspected but were afraid to admit to yourself, afraid to face it. 
Beomgyu didn't need you, it was you who needed him.
Your hand loosened its grip on Leah's clothes and you stepped back. A tremor went through your body as you looked down at your hands, suddenly afraid of yourself, your own demons. "I'm sorry, just... leave him alone."
For a few seconds you thought she would say something, argue, scream, or just try to move on as if she didn't hear you. She did none of these things, instead she turned back to the stairs and said those words that hit every sensitive nerve in your body. 
"If your disease doesn't kill you soon, you should kill yourself."
At first, her words were like an attack that you couldn't digest for the first few seconds. They hurt, they stole your breath, and you heard the crackling of something weak, something sensitive breaking; but it was only when you saw where the attack was directed that fear and a searing anxiety invaded your body and made your knees fight against a wrenching weakness.
"Leah!" the scream tore at your throat. 
Beomgyu was standing on the stairs when he met your sister's gaze. His jaw was clenched, but his tired expression made him look almost expressionless. But he wasn't. He was shaking, more than you. He was suffering, more than you. He had never looked so small, so fragile, so far away. And you had never felt so helpless, so frightened, so unaware of your impulses.
"How... how can you say such a thing?" Your palms slapped Leah's back, once, twice, three times, as if to force her to spit out an answer. You were distraught, desperate, about to burst into tears. "How can you be a human being and say such a thing? How can you be my sister and..."
"'Whoa, whoa, take it easy... Just calm down..." Beomgyu's arms, who seemed to have rushed down the stairs at full speed at the first of your attacks, wrapped around your waist and pulled you back. You tried to pull him away, even though you had no intention of returning to your sister, but he clung to you tightly. "Come on, outside." 
You didn't resist as he led you outside your house. His hands released you only when he closed the door behind him and you turned to him with a pleading expression. Beomgyu said nothing but shook his head in a gesture you could not decipher and the fear that shook every part of your body could not have been worse.
Silence.
You parted your lips, desperately wanting to say something, anything, but nothing came out. Beomgyu gave you a dejected smile and shrugged his shoulders, a gesture he always made when he wanted to play things down and cheer you up. You had to look away to keep from collapsing. 
The raindrops on the pavement were bright white under the streetlights. The streets were empty, the only sounds being your accelerated breathing, the pattering of the rain, and the rustle of the trees in the wind. The air was tinged with damp bark and earthy moss, a smell that for the first time you found more devastating than comforting. 
"I'm going home, back inside." 
Your breath caught in your lungs and you made an incredible effort to get the words out of your mouth. 'If your disease doesn't kill you soon, you should kill yourself'. These words kept going over and over and over in your mind. How could your sister tell him that, how could she even think about it? Beomgyu, who had lived in a body full of anxiety, instability, impulsiveness, confusion, and paranoia since he was sixteen. Beomgyu, who had to live with an incurable diagnosis and inexhaustible medication. Beomgyu, in whose confused mind, behind a thick layer of emotions, there was only a genuine desire to be loved, accepted and valued by himself and others. Beomgyu, insecure, bright, dull, happy, depressed, who started a new war against himself every day. If your sister had known all this, would she have said those cruel words? If your sister had seen the sharp, cutting impact that melted into Beomgyu like a heavy anchor that prevented any hope from floating, would she really have stayed at home so calmly?
"She doesn't know what she said," you whispered, lifting your gaze from the floor to look deep into his eyes. "She's... selfish, arrogant, completely irrational. She thinks she knows you. They think they know you. But they don't know anything about you! They don't know you like I do, no one...no one..."
"It's okay."
"Nobody does."
"I know." Beomgyu took your face in his hands, his intense eyes never leaving yours. "You know me better than anyone."
"Stay."
Beomgyu shook his head sadly.
"No, I..."
"I love you."
Your interruption seemed to shake the ground beneath Beomgyu's feet. The boy sighed shakily and leaned his forehead against yours. His eyes, now wet and shiny like the concrete of the long avenue, were hidden under his eyelids and closed with the force of something burning to be seen. 
"Do you sometimes... do you sometimes not have the urge to die together? To throw us in a lake and drown? Something like that?"
A sob escaped your throat and your hands cupped his cheeks, almost as if you were holding his heavy soul with the edge of your fingernails to keep him from slipping from your grasp. Nothing was ever more frustrating. "No, God, of course not, how can you say such a thing? I want nothing more than to live by your side, to synchronize your heart with mine, to hear you breathe, to see you smile... I want to calm you down and for you to calm me down. I want to survive with you.
Beomgyu let out a soft snort that resembled an attempt at laughter. "Always giving me the cold shoulder. Go back inside, you'll catch a cold."
Your hands grabbed his clothes. You didn't want to let go, your whole being told you not to, not to let him go, not like that, not with those words still echoing in his head. Beomgyu gently pushed your hands away and you trembled. You were afraid for everything, for him, for yourself, for the future. You feared his departure and that he would become unreachable. For the first time, you feared that you didn't love him. 
Beomgyu's breathing was steady now, only the faint, clear outline of his body pressed against your chest told you that he was still there, still present. "I'm scared," you whispered. 
"Me too."
"Will I see you tomorrow?"
"Friday, I'll see you Friday." 
"You promise?"
"I promise."
Finally, you stepped back, still wanting to say many things, but lacking the right repository of words to get them out. Beomgyu hesitated for a moment, his mouth opened slightly as if he wanted to speak. But he didn't. You took a deep breath and stepped back again, your face blank and your hands hanging limply at your sides. Your lips trembled, but then, almost out of nowhere, you smiled. It wasn't a happy smile, nothing like that, given the situation. It was desperation eating away at your life, the wind hitting your body and telling you how empty your hands were now. It was Beomgyu, tired and in pain, making his way into the distance.  
You smiled even more when the sky began to rain.
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uluvjay · 1 year
Text
Bronco- T. Zegras
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Gif by hard4softthings
Summary: You and your boyfriend get busy in his bronco;)
Trevor zegras x Fem!reader
Warnings?: Smut; oral(m receiving), fingering(f receiving), cursing, this all happens in a car, pet names
A/n: I’m very bad at smut and I apologize for any errors, Do not repost my works as your own
Trevor was waiting outside in his bronco for you to finish getting my things together. He was dropping you off at your friends house for a girls day, which in reality meant you and your friends were spending the day drinking.
You hadn’t seen him all morning since he had to clean his stall out at the arena and then had a bunch of other errands to run today.
Finally finding my clutch I made my way outside in a cute white dress and cowgirl boots that Trevor had bought me, I also sported my small gold chain that had an “11” on it for Trevor.
As I made it to the car I seen Trevor leaned back on his phone, “Hi, sorry I took forever i couldn’t find my clutch” I told him getting in the car.
“It’s okay, I’m not in a rush” he said putting his phone in the cup holder and looking at you, you watched as his eyes scanned you stopping at your neck and then dropped down to your chest where your dress went down into a small v.
“You look cute” he told you with a smirk
“Thank you” you told him leaning over the console to give him a small kiss.
As you pulled back you couldn’t help but check him out as well, he was wearing a white T-shirt with his fresh sleeve on display, joggers, he wasn’t wearing a hat letting his hair breathe, and his glasses.
You cursed yourself as you felt your lower stomach get warm just looking at him, it was rare he wore his glasses and he looked so damn good in them, not to mention that damn sleeve had you going wild since the day he got it done.
“You okay?” He asked, still smirking at you knowing you’d just checked him out
“Yeah, let’s go” you said buckling up
5 minutes into the ride and you were having a hard time keeping your eyes off of him, he had one hand resting on your thigh while his tattooed one was on the steering wheel, and it was driving you crazy.
You didn’t realize you had zoned out while staring at him until he pinched your thigh and said your name.
“Huh? I’m sorry we’re you talking to me? I zoned out” you told him feeling your cheeks warm.
“I told you to take a picture, it’ll last longer” he said as he began to go as the light tuned green.
“Shut up” you said turning your head to look out the window as he laughed.
There was a tension filled silence that took over the car, all that could be heard was the low volume of whatever song was playing through the speakers and the car’s engine.
You were lost in thoughts about your boyfriend again until you felt one of his large hands slip under the skirt of your dress and run over the outside your panties.
You quickly shot your head over to him and seen a small smirk resting on his face as he pulled to another stop behind a car. He looked down at you and spread your thighs enough for his hand to fit into your panties.
“What’re you doing?” You asked with a small whimper as he slowly started moving a finger on your clit.
“Taking care of you” he told you simply.
“Bu-But your driving” you said as he started to speed up his movements
“Stuck in traffic right now though” he told you, smirk never leaving his face.
You couldn’t help the moan you let out as he slipped a finger inside you, you didn’t know what was coming over you as you brought a leg to sit half crisscrossed on the seat to give him more room.
“Always a good girl” he praised, adding another finger
“Trevor!” You moaned and threw your head back against the seat.
You felt the car begin to move a little however it didn’t go maybe more then two inches, you usually hated California traffic but today you we’re thankful for it.
You looked over at Trevor to find him already watching you, he didn’t hesitate to pull you into a kiss his tongue easily slipping in, making you moan even more.
“Feels so good Z” you moaned eyes shut
“Yeah? I’m sure it does you little slut” you couldn’t help the moan that escaped you mouth at the degradation.
Your head was thrown back once again as you felt your lower stomach begin to tighten and your moans grow louder. You gripped his arm trying to warn him you were close, unable to speak due to the pleasure.
“Close?” He asked and all you could do was nod your head, your confirmation made him speed up his fingers even more.
“Ss-so close trev” you were able to get out
“Haven’t heard you ask pretty girl” he told you with a evil smirk.
You looked at him with pleading eyes, just this one time could he not be an ass.
“Bad girls don’t get to cum” he said slowing down his fingers as he began to move forward with the traffic a little.
“No! Please! C-can I cum? Z please” you begged looking him in his eyes.
“Go ahead baby” he told you pulling you into a hard kiss, you came right after he gave you permission, you had to pull away from to kiss to breathe, legs shaking and tears coming out of your eyes.
Trevor slowed his fingers down but still kept them going to work you through your orgasm. You looked back over at him and pulled him into a sloppy kiss.
“Thank you” you said still catching your breath.
“Anytime” he said with a smirk as he pumped his fingers one more time causing you to shoot a hand down and hold onto his wrist, he laughed and pulled out his cum coated fingers only to put them right into his mouth.
He moaned at the taste and closed his eyes for a moment, “you taste so fucking good” he said looking you in your eye.
You giggled before looking out at the horrible traffic you were stuck in.
“How much longer do you think we’ll be stuck in this?” You asked eyeing the bulge in his pants.
“Phone says an estimated forty five minutes to an hour, you should text the girls and let them know you’ll be a little late” he told you.
You just nodded and did just that before grabbing a hair tie that he kept in the center console for you.
“What’re you doing?” He asked as you pulled your hair back and took your boots off.
You unbuckled your seatbelt and grabbed the hoodie that you seen in the back seat to lay over the center console before you leaned on it, you began to pull on the tie of his joggers.
“Taking care of you” you shot his words back at him as he lifted his hips slightly for you to pull his pants and boxers down just enough for his hard length to spring out.
“Oh shit” he whimpered out as you began to leave little kisses on the head of his cock.
“Baby you really don’t have to” he said scared he made you feel pressured to do this.
“Don’t worry I want to” you told him before putting him in your mouth.
He let out a loud groan as he let his head lean back and rest against the headrest, you felt his hand come to rest on the back of your neck as you bobbed your head.
“God, your fucking amazing” he let out praising you pushing you down a little more.
You loved how vocal Trevor was during sex and such, not even just his moans but his dirty talk. He could go from calling you his pretty girl to his nasty whore in seconds and you absolutely lived for it.
You came up for air using your hand for a second, he let out a moan at the different feeling.
“You sound so pretty when you moan Trev” you praised him before going back down.
“Go-gotta move up” he told you before you felt the car move a little and him slip a bit deeper in your throat making him let out a loud moan.
You bobbed your head just how he liked, letting him start to add a little pressure to your head and move his hips.
“Wi-ohh fuck, wish I could fuck your face” he whined out
You know he loved it but being in the car and not wanting to risk his foot slipping and hitting the gas he couldn’t.
You started going a little faster wanting to hear his pretty moans, “fuckk, I’m gettin close baby” he said as he began to push your head down for you.
He let out a loud moan before he held you down on him and thrusted his hips up once before you felt his hot load shoot down your throat.
As you came up you swallowed the gum while looking him right in his eyes, knowing how much he loved watching you swallow his cum.
“Tongue out, let me see” he said gripping your face and smirking as you did as told.
He pulled you into a kiss before a honk from behind you two forced you two to pull away, as you both looked up you seen that you had room to move up a little.
You both laughed as Trevor tucked himself away into his boxers and pulled his pants back up and you settled back in your seat.
“Thanks baby, your mouths just as magical as always” he said kissing you again.
“Shut up you dork” you said laughing and grabbing his hand.
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hey-august · 7 months
Text
Time to wake up | NSFW (Buggy x afab!reader)
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GIF from goodsirs
Description: After a night of partying, Buggy seeks out your attention, only to discover that you're already asleep. Despite his "best" attempts at not waking you, something else is up and ready for some action.
Word count: ~1.9k
A/N: One shot smut with an established relationship. Based on OPLA buggy. Let me know if you see any errors or typos. ♡
Warnings: Not beta read. NC-17. → MDNI ← A moment of dry-humping. PIV, reader on top. Buggy is slightly inebriated but not deeply intoxicated. Buggy is also a whiney and apologetic mess. afab!reader, no use of Y/N. All parties are consenting adults.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
At the end of a long night of celebrations, filled to the brim with drinks, laughter, tall-tales, raunchy shanties, and - everyone’s favorite - arguments that could only be solved with fights, Buggy made his way to his captain’s quarters. He clumsily crawled into the bed where you have been sleeping after slipping out of the party a few hours ago. Although the sheets were full of your body heat, the pirate wanted to get closer the heat source. 
Buggy snuggled against your sleeping form and pulled your back into his bare chest. He rested his head behind yours, enjoying how your hair caressed his face. He found your sweet scent tantalizing and overwhelming. Although he wasn’t drunk, he had enough alcohol coasting through his body to enhance his senses and fuel his imagination. The downside of those effects was the effort it took to process stimulation, and the numerous thoughts made it harder for him to keep his mind organized.
A subtle shift in your resting position nestled you into Buggy’s body, as if you were the first two pieces of a puzzle to fit together. Buggy took advantage of the movement, putting his face into the crook of your neck and pressing his hips against yours. His lips grazed your skin and his brain wrestled with the desire to kiss and nip your neck. Unfortunately for him, the thoughts fought back, bolstered by the swelling happening between his legs.
A few kisses couldn’t hurt, right? He started with pressing his lips against your neck, not really a kiss. When you didn’t stir, he gave in - little pecks, small licks, shaky breaths muffled against your skin. Buggy was so focused on trying to stay in control while tasting as much of you as possible, that he lost track of other sensations his body was seeking. His hips were moving on their own, pressing his hard length into your backside. Small movements, just enough to get pressure. A deep breath from your body, so light it sounded like a sigh, broke his concentration. The pirate clown stilled, afraid he woke you up.
“Bugs, do you want to have sex?” you asked in a voice still coated with sleep. Buggy shook his head against your neck.
“Didn’t mean to wake you,” he murmured, “I was gonna stop.” His voice was slow and heavy from partying and the lust he was trying to downplay.
“Babe, I woke up when you practically fell into the bed.”
“M’sorry, didn’t mean it.” He hugged you closer. It was intended to be a sweet gesture, but once again the sweet whisper of alcohol suggested he put extra pressure on his erection. You didn’t miss how his hard cock twitched against you, begging for more attention.
“I don’t mind, we can have sex,” you offered again, this time upping the ante by pressing against him. 
Buggy’s breath hitched but he didn’t respond. He was stuck in a tornado of different responses, thoughts, and visions, unable to find the one he wanted. You grabbed the arm wrapped around your waist and guided his hand under your sleeping shirt and placed it on your breast. He squeezed. A sign of life. Buggy felt your body melt against his at the sensation and the storm in his mind faded away. 
Buggy finally nodded and muttered another apology while kissing your neck, “M’sorry, wanna fuck you so bad…” This time the kisses were sloppy and heated, interspaced with small nips.
You broke free from his grasp and turned around to face the pirate captain. Under his clownish face paint, Buggy’s eyebrows carried a hint of a scowl, his eyes were dark and glazed with lust, and a blush spread across the unpainted sections of his face. While he didn’t have enough alcohol to get drunk, he was absolutely intoxicated by you. As bad as Buggy felt about waking you up, it was clear that he was so desperately horny that only you would do. 
You captured his lips in an intense kiss and distracted him with your tongue so you could pull off your underwear without his roaming hands interfering. You broke the kiss to pull off your top and directed your captain to take off the only article of clothing he had on, thankful that he only ever slept in his boxers. Buggy obliged dutifully and looked at you with an expectant look, waiting for his next order.
“Let me take care of you,” you said, straddling him. His piercing green eyes watched as you got into position. You could see his feral hunger but there was also another more morose expression. Guilt.
“You sure you want this, Buggy?” The soft expression in your eyes was somehow still strong enough to sting his heart.
“I didn’t wanna wake you…didn’t mean it, m’so sorry.” His face crinkled into a scowl, frustrated with himself. You felt bad that he felt so conflicted, but seeing this man at odds with his love for you and his love for your body had your stomach in knots and your pussy dripping.
“It’s fine, sweetie. Do you want to-?” Despite avoiding your gaze, his strong grip on your hips and bashful nod were affirmation enough. 
You took your cue to lower yourself onto the pirate clown, your heart pounding wildly as the tip made way for the rest of his thick cock. You moved slowly, relying on your slick juices to make the intrusion easier. Buggy’s thickness always stretched you to your limit, creating a delicious burn for you and a plush tight prison for him. 
Through half-lidded eyes, you observed Buggy. His head was tilted back slightly as his body remained tense under your touch, eyes closed and lashes fluttering, all under knitted brows. Under the surface, he was fighting the impulse to slam you down onto his cock and fuck you into oblivion. 
With his previous internal turmoils, the alcohol was his adversary. This time it was on his side. There was no way the pirate could ravage your body the way his unfettered thoughts cried out for. Honestly, Buggy was already closer to the edge than he normally was at this point. He had already been enroute to making a mess in his boxers while humping you from behind.
You began to rock your hips back and forth, feeling Buggy’s fingers dig deeper into your hips. He wasn’t guiding you, just holding on for dear life. You were a buoy and he was afraid of sinking into the murky depths of the ocean alone. 
“Ahhh, fuuuuck, baby…” Buggy groaned in a low voice. “..f-feels s’good,” the words came out strung together with raw ecstasy. He felt your cunt squeeze at the comment, the additional tightness nearly painful. His hips jolted at the increase in pressure as his impatient cock seeked relief.
“Fuck, Buggy!” you gasped, unprepared for his contribution to what you expected to be a solo dance. His movement stuttered at your cry.
“M’sorry, baby, I-I’m so s-sorry,” he whined, “you f-feel so good.” His green eyes looked up at you apologetically while his large hands pawed at your hips, still fighting the battle of keeping his body under control. You held still for a moment, unable to do much but let your cunt squeeze fruitlessly against his throbbing cock. Each contraction caused every bit of his member to massage your sensitive walls, sending tickles of sensation through your body and bringing you closer to climax.
A quiet whimper pulled you back to the bed, a heavy anchor tethering your mind and attention.
 “P-please, m’so close,” Buggy pleaded, shifting his body under yours. Needy hands ran up and down your thighs, having given up on gripping your hips. “W-want you so bad…please wanna come…”
You nodded wordlessly and bounced up and down, wanting nothing more than to give your captain what he wanted. Buggy watched your beautiful form ride his cock, his normally talkative mouth quiet and agape. No matter how many times he’s had this experience, he was always in awe watching your lewd expressions, how your tantalizing cunt accepted his large cock, and the way your hedonistic body moved above him.
Desperate hands returned to their rightful place on your hips. His fingertips dug in deeply, bracing you against the new pace and intensity his hips were going to deliver. Buggy was about to drown in the impending wave building in his body and he couldn’t let you go. As the wave began to crest, slurred words began to pour from Buggy’s cunt-drunk mouth.
“S-so close, please, gonna come…m’sorry b-baby, gonna come. Your cu- unnngh, you f-feel so good. P-please, please, please…” 
Each thrust rubbed his cock against that sweet spot inside you, building pressure through your body until all you could see were the stars flashing in your eyes. Buggy’s movements grew more erratic as his orgasm coursed through his body, from the continued whining flowing from his mouth to the hot streams of cum that began to flood your insides. The throbbing that accompanied each spurt was nearly enough to send you to the stars you were seeing, however, you could feel his eager movements start to ebb away. You rolled your hips, chasing the climax that was only breaths away.
“Oh, f-fuck!” Buggy cried out as the tide in his body retreated and the stimulation from your continued movements increased. His body wiggled helplessly, not in an attempt to get away, but to ease the feeling of overstimulation. The sight of your captain, the fearsome clown pirate, writhing underneath you, muttering and whining words you could no longer pull apart, while still creating bruises on your hips from his man-handling, because he wanted you to finish, was more than enough for you. Buggy feebly attempted to keep your hips moving as you rode through your climax.
You collapsed onto Buggy’s chest as your orgasm teetered out, fighting the twitches that were still lighting up in your body with each beat of your heart. Buggy’s chest heaved under your body, a deep hollow wind accompanied by his own heavy heartbeat. His arms wrapped around you in a tight embrace and he rubbed his chin on the top of your head.
“You’re sooo good, y’feel so good, baby. M’so sorry, had to cum so b-bad. M’sorry, didn’t mean to wake you, just w-wanted you so bad...”
At this point, you weren’t sure if he was talking to you anymore, or if the clown was broken and saying whatever words were left in his empty head. While you wanted to lay on him longer, you made the great effort in rolling off of his body, wincing as his softening member slipped out alongside some of the extra fluid inside you. Laying next to the incoherent clown - whose body was going through a merry-go-round of tension and relaxation as it attempted to come down from all the stimulation you delivered - you tilted his face towards yours.
“Bugs, it’s fine. I’m glad you woke me up for this, okay?” you affirmed in a gentle but straightforward voice. You nodded as you spoke, prompting him to nod back. It was hard to say if he really heard what you were saying, but the calmness that crossed his face was enough for this moment.
Buggy gave another small nod before closing his eyes and allowing his body to fully relax. You kissed his shoulder and basked in the afterglow with him. There was a mess to clean up and you would both need to actually prepare for bed, but you weren’t ready to leave this moment behind yet.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
A/N: there's probably a joke here about a clown shaped alarm cock clock 🤡
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vhagarlovebot · 2 years
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NOT GOOD ENOUGH.
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♡. ── gif credit. ; ( aemond targaryen masterlist. )
pairing: aemond targaryen x fem!reader
summary: you haven't consummated your marriage and your husband is the only one with an answer.
content warnings: +18, smut if you squint, a bit angsty, fluff, aemond being an insecure little baby.
note: if there are any grammatical errors i apologize, english is not my first language! hope you enjoy.
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YOU MARRIED AEMOND TARGWRYEN four moons ago knowing that he had some issues. a lot of them. but the heart wants what it wants and yours has aemond’s name on it.
if you ask someone about aemond’s weakness, they would tell you he does not have one. but those who live in the red keep know that the prince weakness is his lady wife. and you know aemond would not hesitate on burning king’s landing and everyone in it if something happens to you. you’d never question is love for you.
however, you have been feeling sad and unattractive, so undesirable, for some time now. but at this point it’s not even about you.
today you did not see each other all day, not even at dinner. that’s why when your husband enters your chambers, he’s meet with you jumping on him, your lips immediately finding their way to his neck. but while you’re leaving hot and wet kisses on his pale skin, aemond does not know what to do. sure he can surrender to pleasure, but then what? of course he has kiss you before and you two have done other things. things that involve him rutting into you fully clothed, making a mess in his trousers but not letting you help when you happily and still hot volunteer to do it with your mouth.
he grabs you by the waist and pulls away, a hard expression on his face. “i’m not in the mood.” he simply says, walking away to start taking off his clothes for bed.
“don’t you find me attractive?” you fidget, bitting your lip and looking straight to the floor. “i-i mean we never… you never…” you shrug, the words not leaving your mouth even though you have a lot to say.
your husband stays silent and you think you have upset him, until he’s back in front of you, his hands grabbing yours and guiding you with him to the bed.
he sits with you between his legs. his touch soft and gentle goes up your arms, to your neck and stops on your cheeks, making you look directly into his eye. “there’s no more beautiful woman than you, my wife.” but there is no reaction from you and he knows this is all his fault.
the last time he tried to be with a woman, he ran out. to this day his older brother stills makes fun of him.
he sighs, he knows what he has to do and this time he’s not backing away. his right hand goes back to yours, this time guiding it to rest on the bulge between his legs. you blush and try to pull your hand away, but aemond won’t let you.
he’s shaking, his face with that light pink that tells you he’s nervous. and you want to make him feel better but you also want to know what is going on inside that pretty head of his.
you give his cock a light squeeze through his clothes and he groans, his forehead going to rest on your stomach while you jerk him out.
and so he starts talking. and he tells you about that time on his thirteenth name day, his first and last time with a woman. and why he has not been with one since then. all of them scared to see what’s under the eyepatch; scared of the crippled prince. he has heard the ladies talk about how handsome he would be if it were not for his missing eye, disgusted for having to see that thing while he fucks them.
aemond does not want you to go through that, he knows how disgusting he is.
he has tears in his eyes and you don’t know if it is for the pleasure your giving him or the awful things he’s saying. but you keep going, touching him through his trousers, sweet nothings whispered in his ear until he’s a trembling moaning mess clinging to you.
but you don’t stop there. you take your time to undress the both of you, kissing every new spot of skin on him that comes into view. you’re waiting to be stopped at any minute but he let’s you keep going until you’re both presenting yourselves bare in front of the other for the first time.
“i married you, did i not?” you sit on his lap and slowly start moving your hips, a low groan coming from him at that new sensation. "and it was my choice. i could have run away but i stay and you know why?" you swallow a moan by biting your lips, your hands going for his eyepatch. but aemond immediately stops you with the hand that's not in your waist. however, you brush it away and as you remove the last piece of clothing from him, you leave kisses along the scar.
when you look at him without his eyepatch for the first time you think about two things. the first one being wanting to find out who those ladies are, so you can have them remove from court at once. and the second one being how that sapphire suits him so well.
"because i love you as i have never loved anyone until now." you trace his scar, mesmerized by the gem. "and if you let me," reaching between your bodies, you guide his cock to your entrance. a moan escapes your lips as aemond's hips jerk up slighly, his hands gripping your waist. "i would like to show you how much i really love you, my dear husband."
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midnight036 · 13 days
Text
The Craving
Sammary: Nanami's a pervert and he can't deny it any longer. Porn with plot.
Note: English is not my first language, so if there's an error don't doubt on correct me ♡ crossposted on my AO3
WC: 1.9K
✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧
You and Nanami had been working together for a couple of months. Although your interactions were limited, you made an effort to connect with him. He often worked late, rarely mingled with other colleagues, and preferred having lunch alone, so your relationship remained strictly professional. However, since you shared the same workspace, you endeavoured to build some rapport. You would engage him in small talk, bring him coffee when he looked particularly exhausted, and occasionally leave some bread on his desk, knowing he often skipped meals.
And that was it. Yet, Nanami couldn't help but be drawn to you. It wasn’t just for how hard you worked that captivated him; it was also the way you made an effort to build a relationship with him. Also, despite your exhaustion, you always came to work looking impeccable. Like today, that your baby blue blouse revealed just enough, your pencil skirt perfectly hugging your curves and how your ponytail swayed gracefully with each step you took.
The problem was that Nanami was a gentleman who firmly believed in keeping his professional and personal lives separate. But on days like today, he found it impossible not to notice you more. Even the smallest touches sent his heart racing.
He despised it when his desire as a man overshadowed his manners, but he couldn't help but notice the growing bulge in his pants as he watched you work so diligently. He tried to conceal it himself under his desk and using the towers of papers to hide his blushing face. Just as he was beginning to regain his composure, you touched his shoulder, causing him to jump slightly in his chair.
"Sorry for disturbing you, Nanamin!" you said, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, using the nickname you had once heard an intern call him. "Could you help me with something?" you asked, holding some papers in your hands, your eyes meeting his with a soft, expectant look.
Nanami turned to face you, his eyes locking onto yours with a mix of surprise and something you still couldn't put your finger on. His gaze lingered on you a moment too long before he cleared his throat, attempting to regain his composure. "Of course," he said, his voice slightly huskier than usual. "What can I do for you?"
"Could you check this report? I feel like something's wrong, but as an assistant, I'm not entirely sure," you say, placing the documents on his desk and leaning in to point out the issues.
"Of course," Nanami replies, his eyes briefly flickering with appreciation as he notices your exposed cleavage. His breath catches, and he shifts slightly in his seat, now keeping his gaze firmly on the papers in front of him. He maintains his composure, his voice low and steady. "It seems there's a slight discrepancy in the numbers here."
"Oh, but why? Is it an error in the calculation or the writing?" you ask, standing up straight. The subtle scent of your perfume enchants him, and his mind races with indecent thoughts as he struggles to focus on the task at hand.
"I believe there may have been an error in the calculations. I'll need to double-check the figures," he says, trying to regain control of his thoughts and remain professional.
"Sorry for troubling you," you apologize, realizing the task is more complex than you initially thought.
Nanami's eyes flicker up to yours, a small smirk forming on his lips. "No need to apologize. It's my job to ensure everything is accurate."
"Thanks, you're the best," you say, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze before returning to your desk.
Nanami's eyes follow your every movement, his mind filled with indecent thoughts. He adjusts himself awkwardly in his chair, trying to hide the growing bulge in his pants. He hates feeling this way, the sense of being a pervert gnawing at his conscience, yet he can't help but be captivated by you. He couldn't work like this. No matter how hard he tried to focus on the report, he found himself reading the same sentence for the fifth time. Frustrated and distracted, he realized he needed a break. Standing up abruptly, Nanami decided to go to the bathroom to wash his face with cold water. He hoped the brief respite would help clear his mind. With four more hours of work ahead, he knew he couldn't continue in this state of distraction.
Nanami locks the bathroom door behind him, leaning against it for a moment as he takes a deep breath, trying to calm his racing mind. "She's driving me crazy," he mutters to himself before making his way to the sink.
Nanami splashes cold water on his face, letting out a breath as the chill cools his heated thoughts. "What the hell is wrong with me," he groans, shaking his head in frustration.
Just as he opens the door to leave the bathroom, he's startled to find you standing outside. Your eyes dart around to ensure no one is watching, and before he can react, you push him back into the bathroom, your hand firmly on his chest. You turn swiftly to lock the door behind you.
"Y/L, what are you—?" he begins, but his words falter as he sees the determined look in your eyes. The confined space and the intensity of the moment heighten the electricity between you two, making it impossible for him to ignore the pounding of his heart or the heat rising in his body.
"You think I wouldn't notice?" you say, pointing at his chest with your finger, making him back up into the small bathroom. "How you kept looking at me with those beautiful eyes of yours, full of desire? Did you think I wouldn't notice the bulge in your pants?" You grab him by his tie, pulling his face down to your level, your faces mere inches apart.
Nanami's breath hitches, unable to deny the desire coursing through his veins, his body responding to your touch. "You... noticed?" he says, his voice thick with longing.
"Tell me if I'm reading this wrong, Nanami..." you whisper, your eyes searching his for any hesitation, waiting for his response to close the distance between you.
Nanami looks deep into your eyes, his gaze burning with intensity. He slowly nods, closing the distance between you two. "No, you're not reading this wrong," he murmurs, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer. "I want you—" His words are cut off as you throw your arms around his neck and kiss him deeply.
Nanami eagerly returns your kiss, his tongue quickly exploring your mouth with a hunger that matches your own. His hands wander over your body, pulling you even closer as he deepens the kiss. "You have no idea how much I've wanted this..." he murmurs between kisses, his voice low and filled with desire.
Nanami groans in pleasure as you begin to trail wet kisses down his neck. One of your hands gently grips it, giving you more access, while the other roams over his toned body beneath his shirt.
He eagerly assists in loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt, his lips hungrily finding yours again. "God, you're driving me crazy..." he breathes against your lips.
After a few minutes of passionate kissing, your hand moves to his growing bulge, caressing it over the fabric of his pants. Nanami's breath hitches, a low moan escaping his lips as he responds to your touch. His hands tighten around your waist, pulling you even closer, his desire evident in every movement.
His hands travel to your backside, pulling you firmly against him as he grinds his hips into your touch. "You're killing me..." he murmurs, nipping at your bottom lip.
Nanami's eyes widen in surprise and desire as you drop to your knees in front of him. You deftly unbutton his belt and pants, freeing his throbbing erection from its confines. He eagerly assists you, his breath hitching in anticipation.
"Let me make you feel good, Nanami," you say, your voice sultry as you caress his cock. Nanami lets out a low moan as you place small, tantalizing kisses around the tip.
He runs his fingers through your hair, gripping it lightly as he thrusts his hips forward into your hand. "So good..." he breathes out, leaning his head back in pleasure. The sensation of your touch and the sight of you on your knees for him sends waves of ecstasy through his body.
Nanami lets out a low growl as you take him into your mouth, your other hand massaging his balls. The pleasure building inside him is palpable. "Oh god..."
You briefly release him, but continue to stroke his shaft. “Nanami, try to stay silent. You're going to get us caught,” you say with a teasing smile. Nanami nods, struggling to stifle his moans as you continue your ministrations. He bites his lower lip, his eyes fixed on you as he fights to keep quiet.
Nanami's breath hitches as you teasingly run your flat tongue over his length, your eyes locked onto his. He groans softly, "You're such a tease..." Then, with a sudden intensity, he grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling you closer and thrusting his hips forward. Your mouth opens in surprise at the sudden intrusion, and he groans as your lips wrap around him again. "Suck it..." he orders, his voice deep and commanding.
You respond eagerly, taking him deeper into your mouth. Nanami's grip tightens in your hair as he guides your movements, his breathing becoming more ragged. The sensation of your warm mouth and skilled tongue drives him wild. "You're incredible," he mutters between heavy breaths, his body trembling with pleasure.
You obey, stroking his dick hard as he thrusts into your mouth. His other hand tenderly tucks away strands of hair that escape his grip behind your ear, then cups your face, his thumb gently stroking your cheek as he pushes deeper. "You're so good at this..." Nanami leans against the wall for support, his thrusts becoming rougher and more desperate. His hand tightens in your hair, gripping it firmly as he whimpers.
Nanami's thrusts grow faster and more frenzied, his saliva-covered dick hitting the back of your throat with each movement. His breathing becomes ragged, his body trembling with pleasure. He moans loudly as he nears his climax, spilling his seed down your throat. "Ugh... fuck..." he groans, his body shuddering as he reaches the peak of his ecstasy.
Nanami smirks as he watches you swallow his seed and as you clean the saliva that escaped your mouth with your thumb. You brush the dust from your skirt and fix your hair with practiced ease before heading towards the bathroom door. "We'll continue this at my house after work," you declare, leaving no room for argument. It wasn't a question; it was a promise.
You wink at him and step out of the bathroom, leaving him half-naked and breathless as he tries to recover from one of the best experiences he’s ever had. He takes a moment to adjust his clothes, taking deep breaths to calm his racing heart. Just as he is about to leave, he feels a weight in his pocket. Curious, he reaches in and pulls out your panties, smirking as he shakes his head in amusement. “What a fucking tease…” he murmurs, pocketing the panties and heading back to his office, his mind consumed with thoughts of you and what the rest of the day might bring.
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cherrymoon4 · 7 months
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Hear me out! Husband!Nanami coming home from work after having the worst day ever; he sighs deeply as soon as he steps into his home, his muscles and nerves relaxing instantly at the delicious smell coming from the kitchen.
He slowly walks to the kitchen, and the moment he sees you he can’t resist the soft smile spreading across his lips. Just the sight of you in that cute apron he bought you, taking off your mittens and smiling at him makes him forget all about his horrible day at work.
“Hi Ken” you softly greet him as he hugs you from behind, nuzzling his face in your neck and inhaling your sweet scent. “How was work?” you ask, bringing a hand up and gently placing it on his nape, playing with his hair.
The question makes him sigh, and tighten his hold on you. “Bad. But it doesn’t matter anymore” he kisses your cheek.“I missed you, love” he mumbles into your skin, pressing kisses on your neck and shoulder. He brings you closer to him, and you let out a little gasp as you feel his hard bulge pressing against the small of your back.
“K-ken..dinner’s gonna g-get cold” you say, but you don’t stop him as he bends you gently over the table, rubbing the fat of your thighs and ass.
“Mh, but I’m hungry for something else doll. ‘Been thinking about this all day..fuck” he curses as he rubs your pussy through your shorts, already feeling the material get moist by your juices. “Already so wet. Always ready for me aren’t you baby?” he asks while sliding down your shorts and panties, letting out a grunt at the sight of your wet folds glistening in the warm light of the kitchen.
“M-mhm, yes daddy, ‘m always ready for you” you let out a whimper as he spreads the fat of your ass, placing his thumbs on your pussy lips to have a good view of your needy little hole pulsing around nothing.
“Such a good doll for me love, always pleasing me and taking care of me. I don’t know what I did to deserve such an angel..” he kneels behind you, keeping you spread out for him as he places sweet wet kisses all over your soft skin.
“I’m gonna take care of you now baby, ‘kay? Make you feel real good. You just stay there pretty for me, and daddy will give you anything you want”.
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i have such nasty thoughts about this man.. i wanna eat him :o (english is not my first language so i apologize for any misspelling or grammar errors)
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hxltic · 9 months
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Hello! I have a request!
Could you do something where Kenma isn't really giving the female reader any attention because he's busy streaming so the reader sneaks under his desk where the viewer's can't see her and she pleasures him until he eventually cums down her throat?
:) I un-ironically love writing bjs
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The shared house was silent anytime after 5 o’clock. Kuroo had just left— his afternoon business management classes calling him in, and Bokuto’s practice overcrowded his schedule to the point where he went twice a day with some gym sessions in between. That leaves you alone with Kenma in your 4 bedroom home off campus that was supposedly his father’s apology gift.
The bills are mainly kept satisfied with Kenma’s profit as his streaming allows you all to live as you do. Of course, there was a sense of independency by your own jobs regardless. There has probably been twice where everyone was in the living room at once, but it’s like there’s a tacit agreement each of you have your own goals.
You can’t be mad at the man for being busy when his job supports his friends and himself.
Kenma has been your friend, now boyfriend, for the longest out of all of them, next in line being Kuroo. Kenma took computer engineering and coding related classes, despite having already perfected building PC’s just out of pure experience. The work is hard. You’ve seen it.
You’ve witnessed him stress first hand about a single error in a strenuous, long line of codes—and you ask him why he doesn’t stop doing it if it bothers him to the extent it does. His determination has grown for activities he enjoys over the years; 12 year old him would have quit.
Kenma’s way to deal with stress is isolation. The entire day he’s been crammed in his room, and with being the only other person in the house majority of the time, you bring it upon yourself to feed him. He gets focused and forgets to eat.
The reminder has you clicking your Ipad off from whatever distraction show you had playing. It was so boring most of the days, Netflix couldn’t even fulfill you. You toss the covers off yourself, then bounce downstairs into the kitchen.
It was so quiet that your feet patting against the floor filled the air. To cure the ennui you felt, you’d take the time to have fun with this culinary experience.
By the time there was fluffy white flour messily coating the kitchen and dishes stacked like game cards in the sink, your dish was plated for two. Maybe you’d keep him some company?
Careful not to fall up the stairs, you prod at his door in attempt to knock with one hand. Somehow you turn the knob successfully.
The fan cuts through the air, every click of Kenma’s pen accompanied with a glance to the paper beside him. He won’t even look up at the waitress bearing goods.
“Hi Ken,” you grab his attention but his slim eyes only dart up at the smell of cuisine. “Have you eaten?”
You know the answer. His hair is pulled back into a ponytail, so when he shakes his head the usual strands that follow aren’t there. You place the plate on his desk, next to the two cans of some energy drink and a diet Dr. Pepper.
“Thank you,” he speaks softly. There was a hint of edge to the sound, like he hadn’t used his voice all day.
“Mhmm.”
You turn on your heels to his bed, then sit criss cross as it squeaks and dips. “Do you mind if I just stay in here? It gets lonely in the house.”
To be honest, you forget he’s there sometimes.
“I’m kinda busy,” he replies. He loves you, and your presence, but he just knows he won’t be able to focus. “I’ll be done soon.”
The pout you flaunt deepens, “You’ve been stuck in here for almost a week now! Come out; I miss you Ken.”
He refrains himself from turning to look at you because he knows when he weighs his options, you’ll always come out on top. The chances of you getting picked multiply with your pout.
“Soon, I just need to finish this.”
“Please?”
He doesn’t even have a valid response for that, so he forces the spoon into his mouth. You’re actually a great cook, but since you all eat so much takeout, nobody’s at the dinner table at the same time to enjoy it.
You huff and negotiate to just sit in silence, as long as you’re in his presence. As long as you know he’s there.
This only lasts about fifteen minutes before you’re whining for him again. You completely understand the heavy load of schoolwork, and that it has to get done, but he genuinely has been at it for so long it cannot be healthy.
“I’m done,” he announces coincidentally, his soft fingers coming up to brush a tendril of hair back as he gathers his things on the desk into a neat pile.
Your head perks up like a puppy at attention. He arises from his chair after closing the laptop, pulling his rubber band from the hair connected at his nape as he steps towards you laying on his bed. You giggle in expectancy when he smiles gingerly at you, reaches his arms forward around your feet to plant his hands on the duvet, then crawls up your body. The hair tie wraps around his wrist to join all the other colorful bracelets and bands.
He makes you swoon by just giving you attention.
His hands grew into proportion as he aged, so now they were relatively large. Large enough to connect at your hips as he kisses his way up.
Stomach, chest, then an abundance on your chin and around your face, just for his thumb and index finger to hold your cheeks in position for his softer, slower kiss right on your lips.
You wrap your arms around him like he’d just disintegrate any second. You can feel his body slump, leaving you with most of his weight to carry and his head withdrawing from the kiss to between your breasts. With one hand massaging the round muscle, Kenma was in his element.
Black with barely-there blonde crowds your vision. His soft skin felt warm as you two lay intertwined in the still house, and if you were to fall asleep it would greatly help that Kenma never keeps the big light on. He moans in satisfactory below you.
You lift your hand to rest over his face, the bigger part of your thumb gliding gently over his cheek.
“I love you,” he mutters.
“I love you too Ken.”
After a while of Kenma following your heartbeat and breathing, you would’ve guessed he was asleep. He clarifies he isn’t when he groans lowly.
“I have to get up.”
The words rest tensely in the air, and maybe if you pretend you didn’t hear him, he’ll lay there and forget about it.
He attempts to raise himself from you, politely grabbing your hand and locking your fingers when he comes to a hover above. His pink lips come to the corner of yours as you blink open your eyes.
Truthfully, he wants nothing more than to be with you, here, resting—but he hasn’t streamed in a solid week because of school. You were completely his priority though, so he would make sure to give you equal attention as his stream.
He finds the little willpower to come off you and the bed. He was genuinely hoping you’d stay there and sleep peacefully, that way he’ll come back to join you and it will feel like he never left.
He flips a blanket over your body before he strolls to his setup usually beaming with bright lights. He takes a seat, making sure to turn the brightness down of everything, refraining from playing music, and ultimately deciding not to turn on any light not connected to his PC anyway.
As much as you hate that he’s not cuddled up next to you right now, you love the fact that he’s a steamer overall because he looks so damn hot doing it. Especially the way his muscles on his forearm flex as he quickly types or plays. His hair that’s usually up is down, because he isn’t wearing his mic.
Or like the way every now and then he’ll pop a piece of gum in his mouth and manspread in his gaming chair to shoot a quick message or check his feed. Or like the way he’s so attent, making call-outs, or whenever he gets angry his brows furrow the slightest bit and his face displays whatever he’s actually thinking. You find it hilarious when his eyes roll.
At some point, he hears you come up behind him into view, and his head relaxes into your two hands sliding up his neck to his jaw. You crouch into the screen and the chat immediately multiples. It’s too quick to read them all. Knowing his viewers, Kenma takes the responsibility of closing it with the click of a button, so fast that it seems he never even did it.
“Cracked, 130,” he calls.
You stood there for a moment to watch him play. He and his team beat the level, game, you don’t know, but he releases his focus from the screen and mindlessly cracks his knuckles.
A donation comes in that’s read aloud. Kenma tenses, but you’re excited to hear it.
“jump1nnit donates $70. ‘girl to girl, is it big?’”
Kenma’s head drops back in your hands, eyes closing in annoyance.
“Jesus Christ,” he mumbles. Where were his mods?
All you were thinking about was how much Kenma was actually earning. 70 dollars in a single donation? How many of these does he get a day? How much more do people pay that’s over 70 when you aren’t here?
You shake these questions away. You knew he was famous. This was not new information; his fans see you sometimes in the background, and they adore you. It’s why your instagram has so many followers and people saying outrageous things in your comments. Ken begs you not to check them.
You find it amusing honestly. God knows what he’s being sent despite his DM’s or what they’re saying in his chats. You know there’s girls all over the world after him, but he doesn’t entertain them, so you don’t either. You trust him completely.
Brought back to reality, you look down at Kenma.
He starts, “Are you-“
To rile up the scene, you nod at the monitor with a mischievous smirk on your face. You bend and kiss his forehead.
“Can I sit right here?” You ask quickly, already pulling up his desk stool because he has no reason to say no. He takes your momentary absence to mute the computer.
“Yeah. yeah, Definitely.”
The blonde’s tone is a little off, but you chalk it up to what just happened. He was just surprised you’d actually respond. He ignores them so he doesn’t get demonetized.
So you sit next to him on your phone playing games, or watching him, or laying on his shoulder. It made it a little difficult for him to play with the last one, but he doesn’t mind. He places a kiss to your forehead, matching earlier actions, and the way you two looked at each other after will definitely reel in some fan edits.
You return to gaming on your phone until you drop it. It tumbles down and under the PC, into the jungle of wires below.
At least with everything included in the setup, that’s what you expect to see, but they’re all neatly accounted for. The seat moves back against the carpet to accommodate for your body, the space you’ve created to retrieve the device. The problem is, you and Kenma occupy this space. You won’t fit.
Kenma heard your phone drop, so he had an idea why you’re down there. He even chuckled a little. Once you pick up the phone, you use his thigh as leverage to turn yourself around, causing him to flinch, and immediately an idea pops into your head.
You could stay down here.
You press the heart of your palm into him once more, the same reaction procreating ideas like a lightbulb.
His voice from above makes another callout.
The lightness of your fingertips glide across his thigh and up to his waist, slipping past the barrier of the thin shirt he’s wearing. Kenma is not ticklish, but his abdomen turns concave to your touch.
By now he has concluded what is happening, or going to happen, and just the thought has him hardening in front of you. Of course it’s something he’s thought about. He hasn’t asked because it feels unnatural—like you would only do it because he suggested it.
His poker face remains stone cold, but the rest gives him away. With every touch you only got closer. You trail your whole hand up the shirt, running this one along the dips of his pale skin, while the other goes back and forth along his thigh. Inwards, then back out. Your phone was long forgotten.
You run the length of your fingers over his center sneakily before meeting both hands in the middle and fiddling with his waistband. He shivers, but continues to play.
He hadn’t been purposely edging himself, and he definitely knows that you would help him whenever he asked, but with all the schoolwork piled on top of him, it never crossed his mind. It was now though, and sensitivity was at its highest.
“No, why would you do that; that’s stupid,” Kenma replies to what you assume is a donation. The technological voice isn’t there anymore for you to hear.
The tips of your nails dive past every ounce of clothing settled at his hips.
He shifts in his seat, whether to allow you to pull the band down just enough or to calm his nerves, you don’t know, but the opportunity was right in front of your face. Literally.
You don’t even do anything but hold his length before you start the up and down motions. It’s enough to turn him on more, having him grow in your hand. You can’t imagine the faces he’s making while his viewers’ minds were already polluted.
“Keep going, push,” he exclaims. Voice still soft, but with some sense of urgency.
He was not speaking to you, but you listen anyway, and do as he says. Maybe you could play a game: see how long it takes before he realizes you’re taking orders.
With this, you stroke him a little faster, then run your fleshy thumb over his tip. It began dripping, a single bud threatening to fall. After swiping it away, you disperse what little you could, then wrap your plush lips around his head.
He wasn’t expecting it right after your slow pace.
“Ugh, fuck- third party.”
The groan he emitted was covered quickly by a call, as if that’s what “frustrated” him.
You pop off as quickly as you came, spread your saliva, and now slide your enclosed hand down his cock steadily. Silky smooth, it took no energy to glide along him. Your unoccupied hand squeezes his thigh through the cotton.
“Down, he’s under and one shot.”
You jerk him off as his breathing barely picks up, occasionally coming down to wet him some more, but you see a significant difference when your hand consistently twists just the tip. You’d swirl your tongue around the reddening, most sensitive part of him before dropping even farther to take his balls in your mouth.
You tug and pull harmlessly.
“Hmm...”
Despite what was going on, the streamer was clever with how he hid it.
He asks, “Hey, what do y’all want to hear?”
The viewers were astonished they were being asked; Kenma has previously told them he likes his music and would play whatever he felt like hearing. He did a stream for song recommendations and half of it was him hating on their music and the other half was his viewers attempting to find songs he would like.
Regardless, he unmuted the sound on his computer and turned on the playlist, only slightly louder than usual.
You took this opportunity to actually wrap your lips around his cock, not having to worry about the sounds. You start on the slower side but it didn’t take long to get comfortable. Whatever you couldn’t fit, you jerked off.
His abdomen showcased whatever his face wouldn’t, stuttering every now and then with his hips correcting their position. You brought the wet hand to his balls once more, and attempted to fit all of him down your throat. There was a deep sigh above you.
You closed your eyes and went again, trying to go deeper. You didn’t gag, but your throat made sounds that was enough implication of what was going on. That’s okay though. Some random band one of his mods recommended was playing.
Once more, you tried to go deeper, actually sputtering this time, but once you got past the uncomfortableness of it all, you could go the same depth over and over. You did, breathing through your nose. He could hear your throat, but chat couldn’t. If they could, they would be saying something.
“Oh shit, oh shit, he’s on me,” he huffs, “I’m gonna twist around to cover.”
You remove yourself, partially to breathe, and take two hands to twist on top of each other in opposite directions. His belly button caves in with some more muscles, pure evidence of his pleasure.
This was the second he knew what you were doing. What game you were playing.
If you wanted to play, he could too.
“Where is she?” he reads chat calmly. “I think she’s downstairs eating.”
Was it calm enough—you’re not sure, because he was fidgeting excessively in the leaning chair.
The double entendre has you giggling silently. With a deep breath, you’re back down on him again. It’s not long until you sputter.
“Do you want me to tell her to come back up?” You hear him spit out quickly.
You do as he says, but not without the price of your fingers doubling speed at his head.
“Yeah, I’ll tell her. Hold on.”
With quickness, he mutes and turns his camera off.
He was sweating and physically overwhelmed. Pushing back on his heels, his chair rolls from under the table with you following, finally in his sight. He could already imagine how you looked.
Red lips. Glowing face. Glossy eyes, smiling and happy. You were ethereal. Your hands are working him, but now with his cock down your throat too? Oh my god.
He held a soft touch at your cheek and caressed your face with his thumb. Picking up speed, you smile.
The other hand of his would do the same, brushing a loose stand of hair behind your ear. Faster.
“Just like that,” he breathes.
“Mhmm?” you deepthroat him.
His head drops back involuntarily. His mouth does the same. The heavy breaths that he was holding from the stream let loose.
One last look at your flushed features and-
He groans heavily, adam’s apple bobbing and cock tightening. Skin usually pale but red with desire, he stills.
You close your eyes. It was so fulfilling with your throat stretched and his hands on either side of your plush face.
Warmth seeps past your tongue and down the cavern. It causes you to choke but Kenma definitely doesn’t mind. His sounds flow into your ears, plus some faint praise as he soon begins to release from his high.
You couldn’t taste anything as you slowly raise yourself from him, leaving his cock glistening with saliva and pink, but the taste just barely started to form once it caught your tongue on the way down. You swallow anyway—it wasn’t bad.
You use the back of your hand to wipe your eyes and breathe freely. You lay your cheek on the driest part of his pants, even though you’ll have to get up. You just aren’t ready to see the red wilts on your knees.
“You are amazing,” Kenma catches his breath. He looks back down with his eyes glossed over and tired, but he still runs his finger over your wet lip. You softly kiss it.
. .
“Are you getting back on?” You climb into his fluffy bed, throwing the covers back.
Kenma shakes his head and follows after you in a fresh new set. He grabs the covers and returns them over you both, pushing his hair back and holding you close.
©️ hxltic
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