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berry-potchy · 10 months

Text

Indulge Me

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x f!reader Rating: Explicit (18+ only please) Word Count: 7,072 Summary: You're a Spiderwoman who has ended up pinned underneath Miguel O'Hara in his lab one too many times. You're not sure what you are to him or what to call your relationship. And that would've been fine until your neediness kicked in and made you catch feelings. Surely, Miguel taking you to his room for the first time means something right? In which your lack of understanding of Spanish and denial of the hints Miguel drops are keeping you from realizing you already have what you want. Tags/warnings: pwp, p in v sex, rough sex, praise + light degradation, multiple orgasms and overstimulation, face sitting/riding, breeding kink, soft dom!Miguel, needy reader, recording, mirror sex adjacent, implied chubby reader, undefined relationship but soft feelings sprinkled in there as a treat, no use of y/n so lots of Spanish nicknames to make up for it, reader does not understand Spanish, brief sexy use of spider webs A/N: this is quite literally just a self-indulgent fic with most of my favorite Miguel x reader flavors. Not beta read but I hope you still enjoy it! (Translations are the end!)

Also on AO3

Edit: turns out some parts got messed up while I was posting here on Tumblr D: it's fine on AO3 though which is weird because I copied from this post instead of my doc because this has the correct spacing. Everything should be fixed now.

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Miguel has you standing in front of him between his parted legs as he sits on the edge of his bed. Even in this position, you were barely any much taller than him, only needing to tilt your head a bit to meet his red eyes. He looks at you from your face, down to the swell of your breast where his eyes are joined by a taloned finger on its journey downwards. You can’t help but let out a soft sigh as the sharp talon cuts through your spandex suit, fully exposing your soft chest to the cold air of his quarters. He would argue that the stretchy translucent mesh with a spiderweb lace design on your chest area didn’t do shit to cover the fullness of your tits anyway so he didn't understand why you even bothered with it. It was for style obviously but riling up Miguel O’Hara was a great bonus. You let out a shaky breath as he continued further down until he stopped right below your navel.

“Que linda,” he says in that low sexy voice of his, very different from the usual grumpy tone he uses to chastise you. He snakes his arms around your hips, bringing you closer to him and his hands find your plush bottom, giving them a rough squeeze. You are getting so worked up by how much attention you are getting from your usually sulky boss. Your heaving chest is right in front of Miguel’s face and his lustful gaze almost feels like it is burning you. The heat spreads from your chest downwards until it pools in the pit of your stomach and between your legs.

“You ruined my suit,” you pout, not really that upset about it. You think it was hot honestly but you just want to tease him “Am I supposed to go on missions with my whole chest out now? Walk around the HQ flashing everyone?”

“Of course not,” he says, rolling his eyes. He continues to take in your figure, hands gently kneading soft flesh on your sides “I’m making you a new suit. Should be done very soon. It'll be the same design but it will offer far more protection than this flimsy thing.”

“Making me a suit just like yours? What so you can control it hm? Deactivate it whenever you want to fuck me?” You laugh, wiping the imaginary tear in your eye until you realize Miguel is silent and looks like he’s been caught red-handed. You lightly slap him on his arm, flustered. “You’re a pervert, you know that?”

Instead of answering you, he brings his head forward to close his lips on a clothed nipple, his tongue flicking the sensitive erect bud. Your mouth opens as you let out a soft gasp at the sensation and you can feel the corner of Miguel’s lips twitch into a slight smirk. He teases your nipple alternating between flicking it with the tip of his tongue and giving it an audible suck. He pulls away for a split second only to give the same attention to your other nipple. You weave your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer to your tits. Your other hand is holding onto his shoulder for support as you urge him to keep going with your whimpers. His hands haven’t stopped exploring your body. His wide hands warm against your hips, ass, thighs, everywhere he can touch, squeezing your softness, committing every curve to memory.

“Migueeeel,” you whine, rubbing your thighs together to try to relieve the ache between your legs. You appreciate the attention to your nipples but your cunt was throbbing with need. You are so close to ripping the rest of your suit and panties off because the way the fabric is sticking to your wet pussy is becoming too uncomfortable.

“Miguel what, muñeca?” He pulls away, licking his lips. Those red eyes are now looking straight into yours and you feel yourself shiver. You try to look away but Miguel grabs your chin to keep you facing him. “Eyes on me. What do you want? Use your words.”

“Please,” your cheeks burn in embarrassment but Miguel just raised an eyebrow at you, unamused. “Stop teasing please.”

“Ah I see okay,” he says, taking his hands off you before standing up and walking to his closet.

“W-wait what are you doing?” you almost trip on your feet, knees feeling weak, as you chase after him. You grab his arm, tugging at it to get his attention as you pathetically look up at him.

“You said stop teasing so I’m getting you a shirt so you can go back to your world and get some rest,” he says as he looks through the neatly folded shirts in his closet. He’s stalling, pretending he was trying to choose one but he’s messing with you. There is no way he would let you go home tonight without getting at least a couple of orgasms wrung out of you. You aren’t leaving until he made sure you were stuffed full and dripping with his cum. You aren’t leaving tonight. Period. He knew you were too far gone with lust to figure that out yourself.

“Miggy, that’s not what I meant please,” you sob, pressing your body against him. Just the thought of being left unsatisfied was painful. “Please, Miggy, I need your mouth. And your cock please”

He finally looks at you and pulls you closer to him by your waist. You run your hands along his still clothed chest, feeling his heart beating with yours. You look up at him with glassy eyes, begging him to finish what he started. He coos at how desperate you were for release.

“You want my mouth and my cock?” he hums, still teasing. He easily lifts you up with one arm supporting your ass to carry you back to his bed. He’s carried you multiple times before but it never ceases to amaze you how he does it so effortlessly. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, hips bucking trying to get some friction against your still unfortunately clothed cunt. “Where do you want them, muñeca? You have to be more specific. Which one do you want first?”

“On my pussy, please. I need your mouth on my pussy. Miggy, I wanna cum on your face” you sobbed against his neck “And then- and then I want you to fuck me. I want you to fill me up with your cock. Only you can fill me up so good, Miggy. I need it.”

“Good girl,” he whispers right next to your ear, making you shudder “Now, was that so hard to do? Was it hard to tell me what you wanted?”

“Yes!” you bite his shoulder and you feel satisfaction when you hear him break character and snort. He shakes his head, smiling fondly while he sets you down on the bed.

"Qué voy a hacer contigo?" he brings his lips to your temple to whisper more softly "Qué haría sin ti?"

Your heart skips a beat at the gentleness of his tone. You’re not sure what he said but the genuine affection is evident. Intimate moments like this with Miguel are slowly becoming more and more frequent and you decide that you don’t mind it. You even crave it now. A satisfied sigh leaves your lips as you lean further toward him.

He pulls away but the fond look on his face doesn’t waver. He slaps your thigh, making the soft fat jiggle just how he likes it, as he moves to get settled in his bed.

“Put those lovely hips and thighs to use and ride my face, conejita.” He lies down, anticipating, patting his chest to encourage you to sit down.

You didn't need to be told twice. You rip off the rest of your suit, your heated skin meeting the cold air of his room making your nipples pebble painfully. You quickly take off your panties and toss them aside with your ruined suit. You squeal as you scramble to get on top of him. You position yourself on top of his waiting mouth, straddling his face but just hovering over his face, hands on the headboard to keep yourself steady. The smell of your arousal is almost too much for Miguel to bear at this proximity. The urge to lock you in his room for the next few days and not let you out until you’re thoroughly fucked and bred is getting hard to ignore. His fangs extend as his animalistic urges surface, yearning to bite you and mark you as his.

“Are you trying to tease me now? How can you ride my face if you don’t sit?” Miguel’s tone is deeper than it was just a second ago. There’s a certain roughness to it, a growl in his voice that makes your hole clench around nothing. He grips your thighs, fingers digging into the soft flesh, waiting for you to sit down or he’ll make you. He’s trying to be patient, turning his head a little to mouth at the fat of your inner thigh. He licks a stray trail of your slick up your thigh, stopping just a breath away from where you both want his mouth to be. You feel him sigh, savoring your taste like he just drank the finest nectar, a promise of what’s to come.

“But Miguel–” you yelp when he suddenly pulls you down by your thighs and you immediately feel his tongue lapping at your aching cunt, his nose bumping deliciously against your swollen clit. He wasn’t going to hear your excuses. The only things he wants to hear coming out of your pretty lips are your moans and whines for more. The way Miguel is sucking and devouring your wetness so eagerly makes your head spin and your grip on the headboard tighten to steady yourself for a moment. He teases your hole, licking around the small opening before plunging in as far as he can, feeling you clench around his tongue. He grows impatient at your lack of movement and starts rocking you back and forth on his face by himself. He flattens his tongue for you to grind your pretty folds onto.

“Miggy, feels so good,” you whine, bending over to look at him from under you. He’s so pretty like this, forehead scrunched up from how focused he is eating you out, and when you get a peak of his nose and his cheeks, they’re shiny from being soaked by a combination of your wetness and his own spit. You take one of your shaking hands off the headboard to brush the hair away from Miguel’s forehead only for him to guide your hand into a fist, grabbing his hair, urging you to use it as leverage to ride his face harder. And who are you to say no to that?

You move your hips to try to match the pace he set for you, your thighs burn but you pay it no mind. Not when you feel that familiar delicious knot forming in your core. Your head lolls to the side and your eyes screwed shut as you immerse in the pleasure, grinding your cunt harder on Miguel’s tongue, nose, chin, anywhere you can get some friction, getting desperate to reach your orgasm.

“‘M gonna cum, Miggy. Gonn’ cum on your face” you whimper. You take your hand off the headboard and bring it to your tits, squeezing them, pinching at rubbing circles on your pebbled nipples. Miguel doesn’t stop lapping hungrily at your pussy, shaking his head from side to side as much as your grip on his hair allows. He groans as he watches in awe as you chase your own pleasure.

So close.

You’re so close you swear you can almost taste it.

Miguel could tell from how your hips stuttered and your pace growing frantic, rougher. He gives your clit another suck and that finally pushes you over the edge.

You feel the sweet release consume you like wildfire, your body tensing, back arching, toes curling. You can’t even hear yourself scream Miguel’s name, curling into yourself as he continues to suck on your oversensitive, pulsating clit. His hands held your shaking thighs steady, not letting you close them. It’s all too much.

“Miggyyy,” you sob pathetically, pawing at his head and his grip on you. You finally manage to pry an eye open only to see him watching you intently “Too much. I can’t-”

He doesn’t stop. He continues to lick stripes at your puffy folds and flick the sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue albeit slower this time. He takes one of his hands away from your thigh and plunges two of his thick fingers knuckle deep inside your needy hole. He manages to find your sweet cushiony spot and puts enough pressure on it to make you see stars. That burning hot coil is back just mere seconds after your climax and if you could think at that moment, you’d think it’s unfair how he seems to know your body too well, knows just where to touch to make you unravel.

He adds another finger into your cunt, stretching you out for his cock, curling them inside you, and hitting your sweet spot over and over again. You know that it’s not enough, that it’s nothing compared to what’s coming for you. No matter how much prep you do it's going to be a tight fit and you can’t wait to be stretched to your limits once more. You stop fighting him, needing to chase after your orgasm, grinding your clit again on his tongue as he pumps his fingers in and out of your slutty hole.

Soon enough, you feel your second orgasm wash over you. You spill over his face, making a mess on his pillows and bedsheets. Your limbs go numb and this time you can’t even form words, just sobbing, babbling nonsense as your body shakes on top of Miguel. You would’ve fallen over if it wasn't for Miguel supporting your back with his free hand. You frantically tap his hand as you hiccup a pathetic “no more.”

Miguel relents and lets you catch your breath for a second. He kisses your puffy cunt one more time before moving you to lie on your back on the bed. He lifts your head to turn over the soiled pillow and fluff it up before getting you settled comfortably. You watch as he catches the dripping wetness from his chin with his equally soaked fingers and sticks them into his mouth, eyes rolling back and moaning at your sweet taste. You feel your cunt throb at the lewd action and you can’t help but let out a needy whimper from the back of your throat. It’s so unfair how much he affects you.

“Ay, pobrecita,” he coos at your flushed face with fat tears running down your cheeks as he nudges your legs apart with his knee and settles between your parted legs. “too much for mi conejita to handle? I know you can take more. Your pussy is so slutty, isn’t she? So needy. I doubt two orgasms is enough.”

He cups your face with one hand, thumb wiping away a tear on your cheek, his other hand brushing your hair away from your face, knowing how much you hate the feeling of it sticking to your skin. Your lower lip is jutting out in an adorable pout that he can’t help but kiss, catching your lip between his teeth. You scrunch up your nose and push his face away as you try to steady your breath.

You can see his naked chest rise and fall faster than usual, his mouth open to catch his own breath. You didn’t even notice when he disabled his suit but your eyes are thankful as you drink in the sight of his warm brown skin, stretching across the expanse of his unfairly defined body. He looks like he was sculpted by the gods themselves, taking extra care to give him the most perfect proportions. How lucky are you to see this masterpiece up close? It would be a sin to not enjoy the view.

Your eyes trail down from his strong broad shoulders to his massive tits, and even further down to see his cock standing up proudly against his navel, the head dripping beads of precum and smearing it against his abs. Pride blooms in your chest as you realize that he’s just as affected as you are.

Your throat suddenly feels so empty. You lick your lips as you tear your eyes off his cock to look up at his face only to find his hungry gaze meeting yours. His eyes glint with danger as he takes in the sight of you in your post-orgasm haze, seemingly plotting his next move.

You didn’t have to wait long because, of course, he can’t keep his hands away from you.

He moves closer, making you spread your legs further. His hands grab at the back of your thighs to push them towards your torso, your knees almost touching your chest. Your dripping cunt twitches as it’s exposed to the cold air. Your hole clenching on nothing, begging to be filled.

“Que rico. Podría acostumbrarme a esto,” he says, his voice deep and rough with lust as his hands rub up and down your thighs, squeezing, feeling you. He drinks up the sight of you, so bare and exposed, all for him to take. “I could watch you like this all day. Maybe take a video of you right now so I can watch your pretty cunt pulsing, crying for me, anytime I want. Or…”

He takes his cock in one hand, running his thumb on the swollen tip to spread the beads of precum around, pumping his shaft with a few languid strokes. You yelp when he slaps his thick, heavy cock against your puffy folds.

“I could tie you up like this and keep you here for my own pleasure.” He starts moving his hips at a torturously slow pace, sliding his length along your wet folds, getting it lubricated by your own slick. He brings his hands back to your thighs and pushes them even further until you’re practically folded in half. “Keep you here to breed. Fill you up with so much cum and you’ll stay like this so it will surely take, yeah?”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Miggy” you hiss as the tip of his cock keeps bumping into your throbbing clit “What’s stopping you from doing so huh? You have your web and your little surveillance bots. Put them to good use.”

“Of course, you’d love that, my pretty little slut,” he chuckles, shaking his head as he lines up the tip of his cock with your hole. Your eyelids flutter as you hold your breath in anticipation, waiting for that delicious stretch of being filled by his massive cock.

“Eyes on me, cariño,” he commands and you obey, looking up at him from under your lashes “That’s it, good girl.”

He starts to slowly press his cock into your greedy hole. Inch by inch, he sinks in, knocking the air out of your lungs. Midway, maybe, you can’t tell, there’s just so much of him, you start to feel a little faint, your shoulders tense and your mouth stuck hanging open. You feel so full of him, almost like he’s going to split you apart.

“Breathe for me,” he coos as he slowly presses more of him into you, filling you up more than what should be possible. He drapes your legs over his shoulders, his chest pressing against the back of your thighs as he uses his now free hands to cradle your face. You suck in a breath as he instructed and try to even out your breathing. “There you go. Keep breathing. Relax for me. Thaaat’s it. My sweet girl. So good for me.”

You preen at his words, warmth flooding your chest and going straight down to your pussy. His hands stay on your cheeks, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your skin as he pushes the last few inches in. You put your hands on top of his as you lean into his touch. He starts to grind his hips slowly, gently, getting you used to his size. The coarse dark curls at the base of his cock tickle your sensitive clit and the head of his cock softly probing at your cervix makes you roll your eyes back and whimper from the fullness.

“Eres tan hermosa. No sabes lo que me haces, cariño,” he leans in to capture your lips into a deep kiss. Soft and gentle until both of you wanted more. One of his hands finds the back of your neck to tilt your head as he pleases as he tries to devour you. His tongue licks into your mouth and his fangs graze your lips with every movement. You hum against his lips as you feel him start to pull his hips back, letting his dick slide halfway out before snapping his hips forward to plunge himself back inside, his balls lewdly smacking against your ass. And he keeps doing it over, and over again making you moan oh so wantonly.

“Estás tan rica. Estás hecha para mí, mi amor,” he whispers against your lips. The breathlessness and the hint of desperation for release in his voice make you shiver. His pace picks up, thrusts growing rougher with it. The wet sounds of him sliding in and out of you and skin slapping against skin echo around his room. The only other sounds you can hear are your combined sounds of pleasure, calling out each other’s names.

You pull on the hand that Miguel has on your cheek to lace your fingers together, his large hand easily dwarfing yours, his talons folded back to not hurt you. Your other hand slips between your bodies, travelling downwards to feel where you two are connected. There’s a deep rumble coming from Miguel’s chest and he presses your sweaty foreheads together, looking at you through half-lidded eyes. Your tight heat is milking his cock so perfectly and at this rate, he’s not going to last long.

“Miggy,” you whine, keeping your eyes on his. His irises seem a little more brown as he looks at you so tenderly, making you feel like you are going to melt into a puddle of goo. He brings your joined hands to his lips to kiss your knuckles and you think you really just might turn into goo.

His thrusts get messier and more frantic You feel the familiar coil building up in your stomach. You lift your hand from between your legs to press firmly against the area below your navel and the sensation is electrifying. You can feel his cock pistoning in and out of you from where you are touching. You can feel him rearranging your insides, molding your pussy to accommodate him and only him, ruining you for anyone else.

“Mi niña hermosa, mi niña linda. Mía. Toda mía.” he moans into your ear, almost whiney and you know he’s near the edge. He starts peppering kisses on your neck, licking, sucking, grazing the sensitive skin with his fangs but not sinking them in yet. He takes the hand you aren’t holding to rest on your hand on your lower stomach. His thumb reaches further down to stroke your clit earning him a shaky whine from you.

“Cum for me again, hermosa,” he lifts his head to look at your flushed face. You’re sure you look like a mess but to him, you’re more beautiful than the brightest twinkling stars on a clear night sky. “Let me see your pretty face when you cum.”

And with that, you’re gone, pushed over the edge, screaming his name, squirting clear liquid up to his chest. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, your hold on his hand tightens, and your legs on his shoulders shake and flail from another intense orgasm. There’s ringing in your ears but you faintly hear him cooing at you, whispering sweet words you can’t quite understand.

Miguel is still fucking into you with messy, frantic thrusts and ragged breaths but it doesn’t take long for him to follow, not when your velvety walls are pulsing, contracting on his dick. He puts a large hand on the space beside your head for support, his claws tearing through the pillowcase, as he drives his hips into yours a few more times before spilling inside you with a deep growl. He paints your insides with his cum as he rides his high with a few more shallow thrusts. You clench around him trying to squeeze as much cum out of him with your tight hole and he whimpers your name.

Both of you pant in unison, trying to catch your breath after that life-altering orgasm together. You turn your head to the side to kiss the inside of Miguel's wrist next to your head. Miguel doesn’t want to move. Everything is too perfect at that moment. You’re perfect.

But he has more plans for you tonight.

He takes your legs off his shoulders to wrap around his waist as he adjusts the both of you so he can lay down comfortably on top of you, putting most of his weight on his elbows on the bed. His dick still plugged in your hole, keeping his seed inside and refusing to part with your tight heat.

“Miggy,” you softly call him, looking at his relaxed face resting on your shoulder, eyes closed.

“Hm?”

“... pull out.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“Fine, but only because I want to,” he grumbles, clearly not wanting to pull out. He gets on his knees again so he can at least watch your sloppy hole fluttering as he slowly pulls out. A thick milky ring of your combined fluid sits at the base of his cock. His eyes darken as he sees your cunt trying to clench at air and his cum starts to drip out of you. He can’t have that. He collects the trail of cum with his fingers so he can stuff them back inside of you.

“Miggy, come back here,” you pull at his hand and when he doesn’t budge, you add “You can just cum inside me more later. I need cuddles.”

That gets him to leave your fucked out hole alone. For now. Miguel kisses your stomach up to the valley between your breasts to your neck and lingers on your lips. He goes back to his earlier position on top of you. You drape your arms around his neck as you hum in contentment against the kiss. He smiles and moves to mouth at your sensitive neck, planting soft kisses, licking and sucking as he moans and pants in your ear.

“Miggy, I’m sleepy now,” you turn to look at him. You know what he’s doing. You know that he’s trying to turn you on again. And it’s working.

“You can do one more, mami. One more for me,” he says. He’s almost pouting, almost begging “You said I can cum in you again.”

“I didn’t mean right away. I just came three times already” you whined wrapping your arms around his broad chest. you want to feel him close.

“Mmm, you can cum four times. Maybe more because you’re such a needy little whore,” he murmurs into your neck, not stopping his ministrations. “My cum slut who loves being bred. We’re not going to end the night without your tummy full of cum I promise you that, cariño.”

You roll your eyes at him but you don't push him away and instead start playing with the short curly hairs at the back of his neck, ignoring the way your pussy shivered at his perverted words. You find comfort in his warmth and weight on top of you. You inhale his familiar deep masculine scent and it almost lulls you to sleep until you feel something wet and hard poking at your thigh.

“How are you hard again?” you say in disbelief as you look down and sure enough, Miguel’s dick is erect and ready to go for another round.

“It’s been a while since we had sex and my hand could only do so much to make up for your absence, cariño,” he huffs as gets up on his knees to turn you over and slap your ass. The sound of his palm meeting the sticky wet skin of your ass is undeniably lewd. “And what about needing to get you pregnant does not make sense to you? Get on your hands and knees for me. That baby is not gonna make itself.”

You plant your knees on the mattress and present your ass to him but you don't bother to lift your upper body from the bed. You keep your face down against the softness of his pillows. You didn't want him to see the giddy smile on your face from hearing that he hasn't slept with anyone else. His cum starts dripping out of your hole, coating your clit with creamy white and Miguel almost cums again on the spot.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” His large hands grab at your ass, kneading them. His thumbs spread your puffy lips apart so he can watch your cunt try to keep his cum inside. You groan as you force your arms to lift you up. “There’s my good girl.”

He smacks your ass which earned him a yelp from you. His lips curl up as he watches the flesh of your ass jiggle from the impact.

“Get on with it,” you whine, wiggling your ass to entice him to move faster. For someone who wanted to stop at the third round, you sure are impatient to be filled again.

“You are going to be the death of me,” he chuckles as he guides his cock back inside your wet heat. “There you go, mami. Back where it belongs.”

You moan loudly as you feel him grinding his hips, driving his dick as deep as he can reach inside you. Your eyes flutter close, as you savor the stretch of your hole around his fat cock once more. You couldn’t agree more with his words.

You hear Miguel from behind you input a command on a device. It beeps obnoxiously like it’s mocking you. It’s the last thing you want to hear while he is balls deep inside you, his girthy cock stretching you deliciously and filling you up so good. You think to yourself what was so important that Miguel can't put his gizmo down and enjoy the feeling of your warm, tight pussy on his dick? Right after insisting you can go for one more round?

You are about to snap at him for being ungrateful until a hologram appears in front of you. It shows a live video feed of his very own bed and a clear view of your fully naked self on your hands and knees getting ur insides rearranged by your boss. Your hair is a mess and your makeup is all smudged from how he made you cry from all the begging and overstimulation earlier. And he looks so big compared to you, having to bend low to align his hips with yours. You didn't even notice the recording devices planted around the room until now from how your brain was so fogged by lust. There seem to be at least three around the room from different angles. Well, it turns out he wasn’t just bluffing when he said he could record you earlier.

You wonder if he always had those set up. You haven’t really been to his room before. The few “encounters” you had with Miguel happened in his laboratory on his silly little platform, both of you too consumed by lust to think about moving to a more private area. It’s rather unlikely that they’re for actual safety reasons when they all just record the same area. You entertain the idea that him taking you to his room tonight is not just a spur-of-the-moment thing, that he might have all of this set up for tonight for when he has you writhing in pleasure on his bed. How thoughtful, you think. It makes you clench around his dick.

"You really are a pervert," you quip to annoy him. Clearly, the urge to mess with him hasn’t been thoroughly fucked out of you yet. You didn't even get to laugh at your own childish remark when Miguel abruptly starts thrusting his hips without warning, harder this time, dragging out a surprised whimper from you. His tip is bullying your cervix, testing the line between pleasure and pain but you love it. Your eyes meet Miguel's intense red glare on the screen.

"You're still talking," he tuts, his head shaking like he's some kind of pet owner trying to reprimand a disobedient pet "Let me fix that, cariño.”

He brings his large calloused hands back on you – where they belong, you think to yourself, echoing Miguel’s words. His left hand is firm on the flesh of your waist, you are sure they are going to bruise once he’s done with you. His other hand fondles your breasts, the sharp talons on his fingertips lightly grazing your soft skin. You know that when you look at yourself in the mirror tomorrow morning you’d look like you barely got away from being mauled by a feral beast, evidence of how Miguel O'Hara had his way with you and how you enjoyed every single second of it.

You cry out his name, chanting it like a prayer. He’s so deep inside you that you can almost feel him in your chest, his thrusts fucking the air out of your lungs.

“Miggy, Mi…. Mig– ah, ah Mi– haaaa –guel ahhh”

Your eyes roll back at the continuous assault on your sweet spot and your cervix with every deep thrust. High-pitched whines come out of your throat as your arms give out from under you, making you fall face-first on the soft mattress. It all feels so good but overwhelming. You think you’re going to pass out.

“Que rico, mami,” he pulls your hair so you can face the screens. “Look at yourself. Beautiful. Taking my cock so well. Don’t worry. I have this all recorded if you’re too cock drunk to watch yourself now, cariño.”

You can't say anything back. You try really hard to come up with something but the only word that comes out of your mouth is “please” over and over again becoming progressively needier each time. He wraps his arm around your waist to pull you closer to him, his chest flushed against your back, allowing him to rock you back against his forceful thrusts.

“Gonn’ make sure I put a baby in you tonight, cariño,” he growls in your ear. “I can’t wait to see your tummy swell in a few months. You’ll look divine, I won't be able to take my hands off you even more.”

His eyes are back to a glowing red as they meet yours that are glazed over by tears and lust. His hand tightens his hold on your hair making you tilt your head further, exposing more of your neck for him to suck bruises on. Your tits are bouncing freely at his aggressive pace. Coupled with the high-pitched moans coming out of your mouth, it’s all so pornographic. It makes you feel like liquid fire is running through your veins and pooling into your stomach.

“You’re gonna cum for me? Let go. Come on. cum for me, mami,”Miguel grunts in your ear, his hand on your hair letting go so he can greedily grab at your tits. “I wanna feel your cunt pulsing on my cock. Can you do that for me? Of course, you can. Going to milk me dry.”

And just like that, you throw your head back on his shoulder, eyes screwing shut as another wave of orgasm crashes down on you. Miguel follows closely, filling you up with more cum that drips down your thighs and on the bedsheets. Your body slumps back against his, too tired to keep yourself upright. You don’t even have the energy to open your eyes, content with feeling Miguel’s warm body against yours.

“I got you,” he says, wrapping his arms around you and moving you to lie down on the bed. You hum in contentment, letting him care for your tired body. He bends down to plant a kiss on your forehead before he pulls away. You miss his touch already.

A beeping sound lets you know that he turned off the monitors. You feel him taking the soiled bedsheets, getting up from the bed to get fresh ones. You have half the mind to reach out to him and tell him he can clean up later so you can cuddle now. Your mouth, however, doesn’t want to move so instead you groan as you blindly reach your hands out.

Miguel chuckles at your antics, walking back with fresh sheets and a damp towel to wipe off the sticky mess from your body. He sits next to you on the bed and brings the towel to your tear-stained cheeks, gently dabbing the area around your eyes to get rid of the messed up traces of mascara and eyeliner. You take your hand to rest on your chest trying to calm your wildly beating heart.

The comfortable silence, unfortunately, doesn’t last long. You hear the unmistakable voice of Lyla cut through the air.

“Heeeey, bossman! Heeeey, girlie!” she drawls and your eyes snap open as you snatch the sheet from Miguel’s hands to cover yourself.

“Ay, coño! I thought I said no alerts tonight,” Miguel looks pissed, rubbing his face in frustration before moving to turn off his watch. “It can wait until tomorrow.”

“Wait, wait! Sorry to interrupt the big night, Miguel, but it’s an emergency. Trust me you’ll want to fix this now,” Lyla raises her hands in surrender before Miguel presses a button. She turns to you, looking apologetic and asking for help “Then you can go back to babymaking, right, dollface?”

“I–” you flush, choking on your own words. You begrudgingly turn to Miguel, your lower lip caught in between your teeth. You lower your eyes as an ugly feeling crawls up your chest.

“It sounds important. You should go,” you whisper, not trusting your voice to speak up any louder. “I’d say I can be back up but I can hardly move so you’re on your own, big guy.”

Miguel sighs and gets up, telling Lyla to send him the information and that it better be worth his time.

You are already sexually satisfied and tired – that’s what four orgasms could do to you – but you are a little upset and sulky that Miguel has to be called in for work right now. Stupid anomaly or whatever it is. It’s probably important and a universe out there might be in grave danger. But you can't help feeling like shit about it though.

You like how soft Miguel gets when he cleans you up after sex. You like it when he picks up your tired form and whispers soft words to you in Spanish. Plus, you were looking forward to cuddles. What’s the use of having sex in his room on his bed if not to cuddle afterward and wake up next to each other the next day? And then, suddenly, in the early morning light, realize that you’ve been madly in love with each other all along. Okay, you are more than just a little upset.

Miguel notices you pouting and your eyes getting glassy with tears as you try to roll off the bed. He shoots his glowing red web at you, trapping you where you are before going back to readjusting his watch.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, walking back to the bed as he makes sure his suit is all good and ready for the mission. He kneels on the bed to drag you to lie on your back.

“What are you doing? I'm going to take a shower,” you sniffle trying to avoid his eyes “I’ll take care of myself. you should go”

He hums as he takes both your wrists in one hand and forces them above your head to secure them together with his webs.

“Miggy?” you look at him and there’s a spark of mischief in his eyes. He darts his tongue across his lower lip and you feel a shiver run up your spine.

He doesn’t respond. He only keeps looking at you like he’s going to devour you once more. He brings your legs up to the position he had in before, knees to your chest, cunt fully exposed to him. You blush and your heart starts pounding in your chest. He shoots out more of his web, making sure you’re comfortable and your legs are securely tied in that position.

“Good?” he whispers and you nod in response “Words, cariño.”

“Perfect,” you moan, your chest heaving with need. He smiles at you fondly, caressing your cheek with a curled finger, and plants chaste kisses on your temple, your nose, and the corner of your mouth until he reaches your lips. He hums in contentment as he savors the feel of your lips against his. Then, he pulls away reluctantly and puts on his mask. He sets his watch to the right coordinates opening up a portal to wherever the universe needs saving.

“I’ll be back as fast as I can. I’ll make sure that anomaly regrets ever being made for interrupting my plans for our night,” he grumbles and gives you one last kiss through his mask for good luck. “And then it’s going to be all about you for the rest of the night, hm? I promise.”

He walks into the portal backwards so he can look at you until it closes and takes him away. Your heart flutters in your chest, anticipating what’s to come as you feel the webs digging deliciously into your soft flesh.

•🕷️────✧˖°˖🕸️˖°˖✧────🕷️•

Translations:

Que linda - how pretty

muñeca - doll

cariño - dear/darling

Qué voy a hacer contigo? - What am I going to do with you?

Qué haría sin ti? - What am I going to do without you?

conejita - little rabbit

pobrecita - poor thing

que rico - “[you] look good” (literal: tastes good)

Podría acostumbrarme a esto - I could get used to this

Eres tan hermosa. No sabes lo que me haces - You're so beautiful. You don't know what you do to me

Estás tan rica. Estás hecha para mí, mi amor - You feel so good. You were made for me, my love

Mi niña hermosa, mi niña linda. Mía. Toda mía. - My beautiful girl, my sweet girl. Mine. All mine.

mami - mommy (as an endearment for a partner)

coño - pussy

A/N: so many thanks to my friend who helped me with translating and giving me tips on some better Spanish terms to use 🙏

#miguel o’hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o'hara headcanons #potchy-writes #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara x female reader #chubby reader

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barefoothighlander · 1 year

Note

The way you write ghost and like a specific reader is so good it has me going insane, on that I just read the cottage one where Simon admits to himself he loves sweet things and would it be possible to get a baker reader x Simon, with him often comming because he's hooked on their desserts but also how fine they are

something sweet

this is possibly one of my FAV tropes, thank you!!

warnings: fluff, gn pronouns, mutual pining, mentions of food throughout, ooc!ghost, kissing, not proofread

People always assumed Ghost ate purely for nutrients, the majority of the meals he consumed on base or in the field involving all four food groups, centred on protein. The truth was he had to stop himself every day from eating entire sleeves of cookies, his favourite being the bourbon biscuits that his mum used to buy.

He had an insatiable sweet tooth, always having loads of sugar in his tea, sneaking into the mess late at night to steal sweets from the kitchen, if you were to search his pockets you’d find wrappers for candy littered throughout them.

He was less restrained when he came home, often buying some sort of treat to pair with his tea when he’d visit a cafe, he’d gone for a walk that morning and decided to explore a few shops, stumbling across a bakery that he’d never been into.

It wasn’t even a question of should he go in, the scent of baked goods wafting from the open door as he looked through the window, trays lined with pastries and cakes, he was practically salivating at the sight of them.

He felt out of place in the cafe, his eyes falling in various couples having coffee together, a few others set up with their laptops as they picked at their food.

“What can I get for you?”

He didn’t intend for the interaction to be awkward, he’d never stumbled over his own words but the sight of you, hair messy, sleeves rolled up, a mess of flour sprinkled over your apron as your wide eyes and bright smile looked back at him had him frozen.

“You look like a tea guy, earl grey?”

How could you possibly know that? He moves closer to the counter, doing his best to make his stride less intimidating as he approaches you.

“How’d you know?”

“Get a lot of customers, I’ve gotten pretty good at knowing what people like”

Heat flushed his cheeks under his balaclava, his eyes nervously moving from your face to the display beside him.

“What do you recommend”

You follow his line of sight, pursing your lips as you think over the options,

“The muffins are good, chocolatines are a favourite, personally I’m partial to the biscuits”

“Which kind?”

“Bourbons are my favourite, the empires are a close second”

He hums in response, “Those are my favourite”

“You have good taste”

He moves his gaze back to you, “I like to think so”

You huff a small laugh, your fingers tapping against the counter as you lose yourself for a moment in his dark eyes.

“So earl grey and some bourbons”

“Sounds perfect”

You swallow a lump in your throat, biting back a smile as you move to collect his order, you toss a few biscuits into the bag, placing the tea bag in a cup before pouring the hot water on top, capping it and handing the pair to him.

“I threw in a few other things I thought you’d like”

“That’s very kind”

His fingers brush against yours as he takes the items from you, the contact making the hairs on your neck stand up. You drop your gaze nervously, smoothing your hair before turning back to him,

“Have a nice day” You stop your sentence abruptly, your eyes squinting slightly at him,

"Simon"

"Have a nice day Simon"

It was less than 24 hours before he was back, strutting through the front doors, oblivious to the various shared glances between other customers, his sights dead set on you.

"Back so soon?"

"How'd you know?"

"Know what?"

"Those extras you gave me yesterday, that raspberry thing and those little chocolates, how'd you know I'd like them"

"I didn't really, just a guess, they're my favourites"

"You have good taste"

"I'd hope so, I'm the one that makes them"

In a moment of realization, he looks around, there's no one else behind the counter, no noises from the kitchen, it really is just you there.

"You own the shop"

"For two years now"

"That's impressive"

You tilt your head down to hide the flush on your cheeks, smiling, "I have something for you"

"You made me something?"

"Was hoping you'd be back"

It's his turn to hide his face, even behind his mask he's scared you'd see the pink tint to his skin, the way his eyes crinkle at the edges, you push a small tray toward him, a cup of tea paired with an assortment of treats.

"I am supposed to stay in shape"

"C'mon, try them" You nudge the tray a little closer

"Only if you eat them with me"

"Deal"

You turn to grab an extra fork, resting your elbows on the table as you portion off a piece of the small pastry in front of you, careful to create the perfect bite,

"Wait, you need to get some of the jam"

"You're telling me how to eat?"

"It has to be perfect"

You use your fork to push some jam onto his piece, nodding to yourself in satisfaction, he takes a quick glance behind him to see if anyone is watching before lifting his mask just slightly, revealing his lips, your eyes linger on them for a little too long, the soft arch of them, their plush pink tint.

"This is amazing"

His praise breaks your trance, your hand covering your mouth as you smile, hiding the food inside it, "I told you"

"You're right, I'll never doubt you again"

You let out a giggle and this time he can't hide his smile, a small dimple forming beside his lips as they curve, you could watch him smile all day.

"This might be strange but, what are you doing later," You ask with a breath of confidence,

"Working off all this sugar you're feeding me"

"What about you skip the workout and meet me here at seven?"

"I'd like that"

You bite back a smile, "Great"

You pack the remaining treats in a small bag, handing it to him before bidding him goodbye, your senses focused solely on him, completely ignorant of the line of customers forming in front of your eyes.

It's a panicked few hours around the cafe, rushing to fill orders, tidying the kitchen, and attempting to find time to fix yourself up before Simon arrived.

The bell atop the door rang at 6:53, apparently, he was insistent on being early, he calls out for you, your voice echoing from the kitchen as he makes his way behind the counter.

"Hey, you're early"

"You're a mess" His eyes scan over your flour-clad form, your hair a mess as your palms dig into a circle of dough.

"Had to get some orders done before tomorrow, wanna help?"

"Not sure how good I'll be"

"Please, I could use your muscles"

"Alright," He rolls his sleeves up his arm, revealing his tattoo before reaching behind him to grab an apron, securing it around his form. You erupt in a fit of laughter as you turn your gaze to him,

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing just, never pictured you in an apron covered in tulips and daisies"

"You saying it looks bad?"

"No, you look perfect," You say, fighting back your laughter, "Okay, grab a piece and start pushing it with your palms, just like this" You demonstrate the move to him, his curious eyes watching intently as you knead the dough, sprinkling bits of flour on it.

"Got it" He places a circle of dough on the table, dropping some flour onto it before digging his palms in, quickly turning to you with worried eyes as his hand forces a hole in the centre.

"Maybe not so tough, try like this" You position yourself next to him, your sides pressing against each other as you rest your hands atop him, guiding them into the dough, your gentle fingers intertwining with his.

"Got it?"

He shakes his head lightly, "I think you need to show me again"

You laugh lightly, the sound warming his chest as you slowly release your touch, urging him to work, "That's better, I have to make some icing so I'll be over there for a minute"

You move from his side, wiping your hands on your apron before standing in front of the large mixer, he watches as you struggle to lift the large bag of powdered sugar, dropping his task to help you. He lifts the bag with ease, watching as you release a small breath of gratitude,

"Wait not all at... once" Your instructions come too late, he dumps the entire bag into the bowl, a cloud of sugar enveloping the room as you drop your head in laughter.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't know"

You raise your hands, palms to the roof as you smile, "It's okay, kinda looks like snow"

"Kind of"

His gaze softens as you close your ears, tilting your neck back and slightly sticking your tongue out, allowing the sugar to settle on the muscle, the sweetness dancing over your tastebuds.

You smile, lifting your head back up and opening your eyes, he's watching you with such adoration in his eyes, his heart swelling out of his chest, he'd never met anyone that maintained such a wonder in themselves, you were so warm, so kind, he'd always been punished for mistakes but the sight of you unknowingly creating a happy memory out of one of his mishaps has his brain rewiring.

He doesn't think, just reaches for you, one hand lifting his mask while the other grabs at your waist, tugging you into him, his lips crash into yours as if his addiction to sweets wasn't enough, you literally tasted like sugar, he couldn't get enough. His free hand moving to cup your jaw, his thumb swiping over the skin as you press yourself into him, your gentle hands settling around his arms as he holds you close.

It's intoxicating, his taste, his scent, tobacco, vanilla, and sugar, you had managed to escape the consequences of a sweet tooth until now, this was a taste you'd never get sick of.

He pulls back with a heavy breath, his chest rising against yours as he rests his forehead against yours, that beautiful smile beaming back at you as your flesh ignites under his touch.

"Kiss me like that again and I'll give you all the baked goods you want"

He lets out a laugh, a genuine laugh, one he hasn't heard in years before pressing his lips to yours again, smiling against your skin as the sugar settles around the two of you, cloaking the room in a soft white dust.

#cod mw x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost cod #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #cod mw2 #simon riley fluff #mw2022 #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x reader

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thehighladywrites · 5 months

Text

— “tell me you’re mine.” “ i’m yours.”

☀︎ — 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

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.

#talkswithamara #acotar #acotar x reader #azriel x reader #a court of thorns and roses #azriel #azriel acotar #acotar imagine #azriel x reader fluff #az x reader #azriel acowar #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acomaf #azriel acofas #azriel spymaster #azriel acosf #azriel x fem reader #azriel x female!reader

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sage-green-matcha · 10 months

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MOON CYCLE - ETHAN LANDRY 🌙

“Now he kissing on the ground that I walk on. Tryna get another taste, but I'm all cramped up” - Melanie Martinez

MINORS DNI!

Content includes: SMUT, sweet Ethan, reader on period

It was always a relief when you got your period. Even if you knew it sucked at least you weren't pregnant. Ethan was also always there for whatever you needed. "You okay, sweet thing?"

"Yea" you didn't want him to see that you were in pain, but he could read you like a book. "Don't lie, it's okay. Do you need anything? A pill? Tea? Water? A snack?" You smiled, shaking your head. "Just lay with me Eth"

His hands were nice and warm, apply light pressure to your stomach, relieving some of the cramps. "You're warm" You wanted to smile at him, but you were always little spoon. "Do you need your socks? Your feet are freezing" he pulled the blanket down some more, piling it atop your feet. "I'm fine, Ethan"

He was always sweet and caring, but he couldn't feel help but feel kinda annoyed at the fact that he couldn't be inside you every night, like before.

"It was just a couple of days Ethan..."

"I know, just miss being inside you" He always went harsher when your period ended, desperate to feel your walls tighten around his cock.

He didn't tease you or made you beg, he just gave you everything you wanted. "Please Eth...please please please" Your core was wet, dripping with saliva and a mix of cum as his head dug in between your thighs.

He'd kiss and suck, digging his nails into your hips. He held your thighs open, making sure you could feel every trick he did with his tongue. "Stay still" The words sounded mean through his teeth. But you knew he only made you want to feel good. Your body squirmed under his touch, grabbing onto his head of curls.

He'd make sure you'd at least finish twice before his cock was anywhere near your cunt, plus the wait made it that much better. "Ready, sweetheart?"

"Mhm," he could tell you were desperate for him, bucking your hips up before he got even close to you. "Don't be impatient, yea?" He leaned down to kiss you, sprinkling them all over your collarbone and bare tits.

His tip was warm as it ran through your folds, making you jolt at the feeling. Ethan slipped out a moan, barely even filling you up. His thrust were always slow at first, applying pressure to your clit while maintaining eye contact.

He knew he could be confident with you. He was obsessed with everything about you, he could never get enough. He didn't have to worry about being embarrassed, especially not when he was balls deep inside your pussy.

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snowsinterlude · 11 days

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˚ ᜔ ࣪ gone girl. 🪽 ͣ ͣ

(coriolanus snow x reader)

summary: coriolanus snow, your dear husband, was the prime suspect ever since you disappeared.

c.w: short, short fic, drama, mentions to cheating, mature content, coriolanus pov, mentions of blood and crime scene.

a/n: i may keep this idea alive if it doesn't flop. this is just the first part of the movie/book and will probably be a looong fic. thank youu

when I think of my wife, I always think of her head. In her shape, first of all. when we first met, it was the back of the head I noticed, and there was something lovely about it, about its angles. like a hard, shiny grain of corn, or a fossil in a riverbed. It was what the victorians would call a beautifully formed head. you could imagine the skull quite easily.

I'd recognize her head anywhere.

and what was inside it. I also think about this: her mind. her brain, all those spirals, and her thoughts darting through those spirals like fast, frantic centipedes. like a child, I imagine myself opening his skull, uncoiling her brain and searching through it, trying to capture and understand her thoughts. what are you thinking, Y/n? the question I asked most often during our marriage, though not out loud, not to the person who could answer. I suppose these questions hang like dark clouds over every marriage: what are you thinking? how are you feeling? who are you? what have we done to each other? what will we do?

standing outside of our home, by the trash cans, i decided to enter our home. asleep, she didn't bother waking up and greeting me, kissing me goodbye. I thanked her for it, for giving me the place to be the caring husband of a tired wife.

making my way to the clothing shop I owned with my cousin, I was forced to move back to the old penthouse in Panem when she called; grandma'am was sick.

“Tigris, I'll come back home. you don't have to take care of everything alone.” I said. she didn't believed me- i could hear her sighing on the other side of the line. “I'm serious, Ti. and why not? there's nothing for me here.

“And Y/N?”

I haven't thought about it. I simply thought that I could wrap my capitol wife with her capitol interests, her capitol pride, push her away from her capitol parents and everything would be fine. it wouldn't. of course it wouldn't.

but would I admit it? of course no.

“Y/N will be fine. she..” I stopped myself before saying that she loved Grandma'am. she didn't. every encounter they had was a shock to both of them. Y/N would spend days dissecting a single conversation they had. “— and what does she mean with…” as if my Grandmother was a stranger to the Capitol, as if she was a beggar who was begging for something that wasn't offered in the first place.

and yet, with her wanting nothing to do with my family, i still thought it was a great idea to bring her to the other side of where we lived on the capitol.

“well, hello, your majesty.” Tigris said, sprinkling water on my face.

“your majesty doesn't like getting wet.” I said.

“yeah, fine. what's up, snowflake?” she asked. I didn't answer.

“i cheated on her.” i blurted out.

“on who- on y/n? coriolanus are you crazy?”

“what- no! i'm not. i was tempted and-”

“and nothing. y/n loves you– or so i think. do you know what women do when they discover something like that?” Tigris looked at me angrily, and for the first time i felt fear- true fear. the more i thought about it, the more i felt dumb. my wife would go through heaven and hell if it meant she could have her vengeance on something that hurt her. “you better pray for her not to find out. we both know y/n is not that simple to deal with.”

🪫

it was our fifth year aniversary when i woke up with my breath warming the pillow this morning. i walked barefoot to the edge of the stairs and listened, playing with my toes on the thick wall-to-wall carpet that y/n hated on principle, as i tried to decide if i was ready to join my wife. y/n was in the kitchen, oblivious to my hesitation. she hummed something melancholic and familiar. i struggled to figure out what it was—a folk song? a lullaby? — and then i realized it was the theme song to virgins suicides. suicide is painless. I went down the stairs.

nothing is happy with her.

y/n spied the crepe sizzling in the pan and licked something off her wrist. she looked triumphant, the typical married woman. if i held her in my arms, i would smell red fruits and powdered sugar.

when she saw me looking at me in my old boxer shorts, my hair standing on end, she leaned on the kitchen counter and said:

“hello, handsome.” fear filled my throat. i thought to myself: okay, go ahead.

💋

i was very late for work. my cousin and I had done a foolish thing when we returned to our grandma'am house. we did what we always said we wanted to do. we opened a bar. we borrowed money from y/n for this, eighty thousand dollars, an amount that had once been nothing to her, but was then almost everything. i swore I would return it, with interest. i wasn't going to be a man who borrowed money from his wife — I could feel my father grimacing at the mere mention of the idea. well, there are all kinds of men, was his most damning sentence, the second half unspoken: and you're the wrong kind.

but it was actually a practical decision, a smart business move. y/n and I needed new careers; that would be mine. she would choose one someday, or not, but in the meantime, it would produce an income, made possible by the rest of the nest egg. just like the ridiculous house I had rented, the bar appeared symbolically in my childhood memories — a place where only adults went, to do whatever adults did. maybe that's why I insisted so much on buying it after being deprived of my livelihood. it was a reminder that I was an adult after all, a grown man, a useful human being, even though I had lost the career that had made me all those things. I wouldn't make that mistake again: the once-vigorous herds of magazine journalists would continue to be slaughtered—by the Internet, by the recession, by the Panem public, who preferred to watch TV, play video games, or electronically inform their friends that, like, rain It sucks! But there was no application for a rush of bourbon on a hot day, in a cool, dark bar. the world will always want a drink.

we called the bar The Bar. “people will think we're ironic rather than creatively bankrupt,” my cousin reasoned.

yes, we thought we were smart in a New Panem way—that the name was a joke that no one else would really get, not like us. don't meta-sack. we imagine the locals turning up their noses: why did you call it The Bar? but our first customer, a gray-haired woman in bifocals and a pink tracksuit, said, “I like the name. like in Breakfast at Tiffany’s, where Audrey Hepburn’s cat is called Puss.”

we felt a lot less superior after that, which was good.

I entered the parking lot. I waited for a strike to sound at the bowling alley—thanks, thanks, friends—and then I got out of the car. I admired the surroundings, not yet bored by the sight: the squat, light-brick post office across the street (now closed on Saturdays), the unassuming beige office building just below (now closed, period). the city was not prosperous, not anymore, not by a long shot. I dared myself to dream about the long-lost dream i had when i was young; dreaming that i'd be the president that would make Panem great again. that was something that had always been stuck to me. with me.

but now, watching the blood of my wife on the floor of our house when i arrived on our fifth anniversary, a chill went up and down through all my body as i searched for her, my eyes didn't even blink while i searched for anything that prooved me that she's alive; that she's there. and that it was just a prank; but she wasn't. the more i looked for her through the house, the more i saw her, but not physically. i saw her in the small things she put there and there when decorating our house, even on my office there were small things that reminded me of her.

i would never escape her. loved her too much to escape.

so, when the police arrived and searched through all the house– now, a crime scene– and determined that I was the prime suspect, i threw up.

#young coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #young president snow #coriolanus snow fanfiction #tbosas smut #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus x you #x reader

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makeitmingi · 6 months

Text

Just A Phone Call Away

Genre: Romance, Angst

Pairing: Hongjoong x Reader (y/n)

Characters: exGirlfriend!Reader, exBoyfriend!Hongjoong

Summary: Your relationship didn't work out, the only thing it did was fill your friendship with awkwardness and regret. But when the other is in need of comforting, you still drop everything and run to each other. After all, you're both just a phone call away.

Word count: 7.1k

Warning(s): lowkey toxic ex-lovers relationship, sprinkles of jealousy, potentially emotional triggers for some. Please read at your own discretion.

[A/N: Hongjoong is just a producer/ song writer in this, not an idol. Ateez isn't an idol group. (y/n) and Hongjoong's friends don't hate each other, they just disagree with the actions of the ex couple. The couple didn't work out for whatever reason. No matter what their lingering feelings are now.]

30th September, Saturday, 9:27pm

Your front door suddenly opened, making you look up from the movie that was playing on the television in front of you. Seeing that it wasn't some stranger entering your house to cause you alarm, you turned back to the movie, simultaneously eating a spoon of rice.

Also, he had called 30 minutes before to tell you he was stopping by. No questions, just a declaration. So you were expecting him.

"Ughhhhhhh." The visitor groaned, falling onto the empty space of the couch next to you. Rolling your eyes, you ignored him but he continued to annoyingly groan.

"Tch. What do you want?" You clicked your tongue. You paused the movie and turned to him.

"Yah..." You tapped his head with the bottom of your bowl.

"How can you just casually eat when I'm in distress?" He asked. You tilted your head, chewing your food before swallowing. You let out a sigh of defeat, reaching to put the bowl down on the table.

"Come here." You spoke softly. He moved immediately, pushing you to lie down and rest his head against your chest.

"Nothing's working out." He mumbled.

"What's not working out?" You probed further, hand coming up to stroke the back of his head.

"I've been camping at the studio for 2 weeks and have not produced a single beat, much less a track or instrumental. I think I've lost my touch." He said. You sighed, his studio work was always something that stressed him out. It was unhealthy for how much of a workaholic he was.

"If you're gonna come here and start speaking bullcrap, I'm kicking you out." You threatened.

"No..." He shook his head, hands coming to squeeze your waist like a child, as if you were really going to kick him out. You hoped he couldn't hear the way your heart lurched.

"Hey, don't sleep yet. Do you want food?" You asked. When you felt him nod, you got up and went to the kitchen.

"What did you cook?" He came up behind you, wrapping his arms around you.

"Fried rice. I was lazy." You explained. You took the remains and scraped them into a new bowl for him. The leftovers were going to be your lunch tomorrow but it's fine.

"Here." You poured flaked seaweed over before handing him the bowl. He sat at the small dining table in the kitchen, eating and watching you clean up. You did the dishes before wiping down the counter and the stove top.

"Your cooking always reminds me of home." He commented. You froze slightly at his words, chewing on your bottom lip. Luckily you were facing away from him that he couldn't see your reaction.

"Don't eat and talk, you'll choke." You forced a chuckle.

"I'm going to shower, can you do the dishes when you're done?" You asked. He nodded, giving you a thumbs up as he shovelled more food into his mouth.

"Slow down, no one is going to take the food away from you." You patted his back.

"Go shower. I'll shower after." He said betwen chews. You hummed and left him in the kitchen, going to have your shower.

Kim Hongjoong, also known as Producer Hongjoong, Songwriter Hongjoong. But before any of those things, you knew him as student Kim Hongjoong, the boy you met during your first year of college. You clicked instantly and became inseparable. He was also the first boy you truly loved.

After a few years of friendship, you both tried dating. It was some of the best moments of your life. One of your best friends was your lover, you practically spent every waking moment with him.

But ultimately, you grew too comfortable with each other, one thing led to another and in the end, you both that it was best for you to part ways.

You regretted acting on your feelings because the relationship only made your friendship awkward and uncomfortable.

If you knew you would end up losing your best friend, you would have kept your feelings to yourself.

When you broke up, you both promised to remain 'friends'. You promised that in times of need, you were both just a phone call away to give the other person some comforting. Hongjoong would come to you, like he did now, and you would go to him.

*KNOCK KNOCK*

"Aein, where's my towel?" You broke out of your train of thought to see Hongjoong's silhouette through the door. One more thing, Hongjoong never got rid of his nickname for you 'sweetheart'.

"Oh, I moved it to be with your clothes. Bottom left drawer of my dresser." You replied.

"Okay, I'll go find it. Thanks!" He walked away. You let out a long sigh, lifting your head to let the shower rain on you, hoping it'll wash away whatever you were feeling. You lightly slapped your cheeks, you needed to pull yourself together.

"Joong, I'm done." You announced as you stepped out, drying your hair with your smaller towel. Hongjoong stood up from the couch. He smiled when he saw you.

"You always look cute in my old shirts. I've always told you that you pull off any style you wear." He complimented.

"I'm literally in pyjamas... Just go shower. I'm going to sleep." You scoffed.

"No! Wait for me!" He protested, running to the shower. You honestly didn't think about it when you pulled the shirt to wear. Most of your closet was curated by Hongjoong anyway, even before you dated.

After doing your skincare, you sat on the bed and scrolled through your social media.

"Ah! That felt good!" Hongjoong came in, tossing his towel aside and diving straight for the bed.

"Joong, you didn't come your hair after you blow dried it. It's gonna be all messy when you wake up tomorrow." You lectured. Hongjoong never combs his hair, you would comb it for him or nag him to do it. Because his hair would get tangled in the morning. He ignore you and laid his head in your lap.

"It'll be fine." He assured, scrolling on his own phone. Your hands habitually came up to pat his head, your fingers combing through his freshly dried hair.

"By the way, did you change your soap?" He asked, still looking at his screen.

"Mhmm, a friend was using it. Some rose and geranium one, I thought it smelt nice so I asked where he got it." You explained.

"He?" He stopped and put his phone down to gaze up at you. You suddenly felt like you were being interrogated, also looking away from your phone to look down and meet his eyes.

"Yeah... Why?"

"What guy uses rose and geranium soap? And how close were you to him that you could smell him?" He asked with a scoff of disbelief.

"To answer your first question, you do. Because you've just used my soap. And for your second question, he was sitting next to me and I noticed. That's all." You replied.

"Right..." Hongjoong frowned slightly, pursing his lips.

"What's the big deal? It's just soap. You didn't complain when you used it." You raised an eyebrow.

"Nothing." He shook his head and turned back to his phone. You stared at the side of his face for a few seconds before going back to your social media scrolling. But Hongjoong's pointed questions and change in tone bothered you slightly. Was he... jealous?

"Joong, you don't have to stress and bother about the studio stuff, alright? I know you'll make it work out, you always do." You spoke softly, wanting to move on from whatever that was.

"You don't know that... My career... is so fickle..." He said with a sigh, putting his phone down.

"You're right, I don't. But forcing yourself to do something for 2 weeks isn't going to help either." You replied.

"What do you think I should do then?" He turned to lay on his back to look at you again. You did the same, putting your phone on the charging dock on your nightstand.

"Take a break." You smiled softly as you let your fingers continue to run through his hair.

"A break?" He tilted his head.

"Yeah. Who knows, you might get struck with inspiration. Don't think about the deadlines, think about the music and let it speak to you." You told him. Hongjoong stayed silent, he was wrong, you did know. You knew everything about the hardships of producing and songwriting because it was one of the things that broke you two up.

"How do you always know what to say, aein?" He smiled softly.

"You'll get out of this rut, just like you always do. Look at all the hits you've produced, I believe in you and your talent. This is just another hurdle you'll jump over." You giggled.

Hongjoong sat up, making you do the same. He laid down on his side of the bed, patting your pillow. You laughed as you laid down beside him.

"Come here." He whispered. You scooched closer, only for him to wrap an arm around your waist and lay his other under your head.

"There. That's better." He chuckled, now practically holding you to his body. Your chest tightened at this closeness.

"How has work been?" He asked, realising he's only been talking about himself the entire evening. Not once had he asked how have you been, even though he crashed your night at home.

"Busy. My company made me take on a new team and it's been grueling onboarding them." You groaned. Hongjoong chuckled, the hand of the arm around your waist opted to lightly brush the exposed skin of your hip with its thumb.

"But I think it's great your company believes in your ability to take on a new team and manage them, alongside your current team." He complimented.

"Thank you." You said.

"There's nothing to thank me for. You're an amazing leader with great work ethic, I've always told you that." He smiled.

"I thought you were just saying it to hype me up." You rolled your eyes, flicking his chest lightly. Of course you didn't do it hard enough to hurt him.

"You're so cute." He laughed and pulled you in to kiss the top of your head. You were both just silent, you were too lost in your head.

"Hongjoong, I-" You looked up to see his sleeping face. You melted slightly, reaching out to hold his cheek gently. Even in his sleep, he instinctively, leaned into your touch.

It took everything in you to carefully remove yourself from him. You tucked his outstretched arm next to him, pulling the blanket up so that it covered him properly. You stared at his sleeping face for a while, lightly patting his side through the blanket. Hongjoong meant so much to you. But what was he to you?

17th October, Tuesday, 4:49pm

It has been about 2 weeks since Hongjoong was at your place. When you woke up the next morning, he was gone. All that was left was a note on the counter in his handwriting.

'Thanks for letting me crash and feeding me so last minute, aein. Have a great day and weekend.

Also, there's iced coffee in the fridge and a bagel sandwich in the paper bag next to the toaster. Heat it up before you eat it!

- Hongjoongie'

Hongjoong was a terrible cook. But he still always tried to make sure you were fed. You were both workaholics so you took it upon yourselves to always remind the other to eat.

According to his one social media post, it seemed like he took your advice, going to the countryside for a few days to get away from the studio. Of course, you knew that he probably still brought equipment there to work but now there was a change in scenary.

"Oh, you're back." Seonghwa walked in after having seen the lights to his best friend's studio on. He had an iced tea on hand, not liking the bitterness of coffee.

"Mhmm." Hongjoong hummed, resting his head on his hand as he looked at the screen before him.

"So..." Seonghwa started.

"What?" Hongjoong stopped, turning to see the taller male who was now seated on the couch. He stood up and went to the mini fridge, grabbing a can of cold coffee to drink.

"What was with the sudden vacation? You don't usually take sch last minute studio leave." Seonghwa asked with suspicion.

"Just needed a breather. Wanted the outdoors. Looking for inspiration." Hongjoong shrugged.

"And did it help?" To which Hongjoong nodded to but then shrugged again, it was iffy. He didn't know for sure if it helped him write new music but it definitely helped him clear his head and forget about the stressors of work for a bit. Just like you said, it helped him focus solely on the music.

"I definitely feel more clarity in my thinking. Overall, it was a good suggestion for me to go." Hongjoong said without thinking. But Seonghwa raised an eyebrow at that.

"Suggestion? Someone suggested for you to go?" He clarified. Hongjoong cleared his throat, not expecting his best friend to pick that up.

"Yeah." He was brief in his answer as he sat back down in his chair and pulled himself back to his desk.

"(y/n) adviced you to go, didn't she?" From the way the shorter male stiffened slightly, Seonghwa knew he hit the nail on the head.

"We're still friends, Hwa. She tried to help me get out of a music rut, that's all." Hongjoong was unnecessarily defensive, especially when Seonghwa hadn't said anything.

"So you went to meet her to seek comfort from her. Just like how she does with you." Seonghwa spoke slowly, hoping Hongjoong would realise how that sounds. But he didn't get what the taller was getting at, nodding in agreement.

"Friends comfort friends." Hongjoong shrugged.

"Right, cause you two are just... normal, everyday friends." Seonghwa scoffed. Hongjoong frowned.

"I need to work. I'll see you at dinner later." He put his headphones on, shutting Seonghwa out. With a sigh, Seonghwa stood up and grabbed his drink before walking out of the studio.

Once the door closed, Hongjoong sighed, plopping his head down onto the desk. He groaned as he sat up, grabbing his phone.

"CHEERS!"

He straightened up when he saw your social media story on his personal, private account. You were out with your friends, Mingi, Wooyoung and San last night. Your posts were a mix of reposts from your friends and your own.

"Wooo!" You had a slightly shaky video with Mingi's arm around your shoulders, holding you to him. He was excitedly jumping up and down, making you jump with him.

"You're making me spill my drink!" You squealed, which only made the mischevious Mingi do it more.

"Ah, you're so cute." Mingi chuckled at your outraged reaction, pressing his forehead against your temple with a smile.

"Hug me!" The next was a video Mingi posted of San, obviously drunk, reaching out for you to hug him. At first, you shook your head, which only made San more whiny.

"Hug me~!" He glued himself to your waist like an attached child to his mother.

"I'd rather let him hug me than a random stranger. Again." You shook your head, taking a sip of your drink as you patted San's back.

"This girl. She always doesn't want to go out with us but when we make her, she has such a good time. Doesn't she?" Wooyoung appeared, giggly and also drunk. He held your chin to make you face him, a teasing smile on his face. You rolled your eyes and slapped his hands away.

"Yah-" Your shouts of protests were cut off as the video cut off and went to the next story. It was a report from a video that Wooyoung had taken in selfie mode.

"She's mine, okay?!" Wooyoung pulled you in, pressing his cheek against yours, squishing your faces together.

"You're mine!" He then proceeded to give you a loud kiss on the cheek.

Hongjoong had to turn his phone off after that. Mingi, Wooyoung and San were your friends a lot longer than he was. But he always felt out of place with them.

Mingi was always flirty with you and Wooyoung was always physically touchy with you. San as well but Wooyoung was more.

Out of respect for your longer friendship, he never mentioned anything to you. He was worried it might upset you or make him seem untrusting and/or insecure. And you never liked clubbing but the trio always convinced you to go with them.

Hongjoong brought it up once, telling you that you shouldn't feel pressured or forced to go. However, you assured him that you didn't feel forced at all and you trusted the 3 to keep you safe.

They weren't bad friends, they made you happy. They were there for you when you and Hongjoong broke up.

They were also the ones, along with Seonghwa, that disapproved of you and Hongjoong's 'arrangement' of continuing to seek comfort from one another.

26th October, Thursday, 8:16pm

"Joong...?"

The moment he heard your saddened voice, he sat up from his bed, pausing his music and putting his laptop aside.

"Yeah, aein? Are you alright?" He asked. It took a while for you to reply, he heard the shaky sigh that escaped you. It was barely audible but he still heard it.

"Ugh... Can I come over?" You seemed hesitant with your question.

"Of course." He replied almost instantly, contrary to your question, without any hesitation. Hongjoong had about 30 minutes to make his place 'presentable' to you. To be honest, he hadn't been home much, always camping at the studio or Seonghwa's place, which was much nearer to the studio.

*BEEP BEEP BEEP*

You still remembered Hongjoong's door passcode. It was his mother's birthday. You trudged in, kicking your shoes to the side as Hongjoong shuffled to you.

"Ugh..." You groaned, leaning against him with your forehead against his chest as he held you up.

"What's wrong, aein? Are you okay? Feeling sick?" Hongjoong asked.

"Work is shit, my parents are shit, life is shit." You complained, like a disgruntled teenager going through puberty. Hongjoong chuckled, guiding you to the couch. He tucked you under his arm.

"Alright, slowly. Tell me what happened?" He coaxed, his other hand coming to stroke your hair.

"Work is always shit, you know that. And my mum keeps trying to set me up on blind dates. The guy tonight was so... he was terrible." You groaned. Hongjoong went quiet. Whether it was on your own accord or not, he had no idea that you were back out in the dating scene.

"What guy ends a date so early? You called me at like 8pm." Hongjoong asked, looking at his watch.

"He didn't end the date. I told him I was leaving and just stood up... walked out of the restaurant..." You mumbled. That made Hongjoong burst out laughing.

"Aein! You walked out on the guy?"

"What? Would you have preferred I stay?" You frowned. Hongjoong stopped laughing at your words.

"Of course not." He hugged you tighter. To cheer you up, Hongjoong ordered you takeout. You weren't going to eat his possibly poisonous cooking. So he ordered rose tteokbokki with cheese.

"Why don't you go shower before the food comes? I've already turned on the heater." Hongjoong suggested. You nodded and pushed yourself to stand up.

"Way to tell me I smell." You scoffed with a playful smile before walking to the bathroom. You already knew your way around his house, just like how he knew his way around yours. But he still followed you, grabbing a clean towel for you while you took one of his hoodies from his closet.

"Thanks, Joong." You kissed his cheek and went into the bathroom. Hongjoong stood there, in the middle of the room, stunned.

"Calm down, Kim Hongjoong." He slapped his cheek before leaving his room. He closed the door behind him to give you some privacy before going back to the living room.

*DING DONG*

"Delivery." There was a muffled voice. Hongjoong went to answer, tipping the delivery guy.

"Thanks." He bowed his head and closed the door. As he got two plates and two sets of cutlery out, he paused for a moment. When was the last time he had someone over? It was probably you.

"Food's here?" Your voice sounded from the room. Hongjoong let out a sound of acknowledgement and you came out.

"Gosh, I'm starving." You said, drying your hair with the towel.

"Did you not eat at all, aein?" Hongjoong chuckled as you slid onto the bar stool, opposite him. You shook your head, accepting the cutlery and plate he handed to you.

"I left after eating two breadsticks, Joong. It was so bad, my parents were already tearing up my phone on the way here so I turned it off." You waved the blank out device, setting it on the table. You and Hongjoong dug into the food.

"You always know what I need, Joong." You giggled, physically melting and letting out sounds of happiness.

"Don't eat so fast, aein. No one is going to take it away for you." He chuckled, reaching out to pat your head with a soft smile on his face. You smiled back.

After eating the food and sharing a can of beer, Hongjoong made you some tea, knowing you always liked to have it after eating things that may cause you to feel bloated in the morning.

"Luckily I still have your full boxes of tea here." He said, handing you the mug.

"Thank you." You received the warm mug and took a sip, you were careful not to spill any on his bed.

"Were you working before I came?" You asked, nodding over to the laptop that had been abandoned at the end of the bed. The screen was still open, showing a chat between him and someone named 'Hyejin'. It was obviously a girl's name, making your stomach sink a little. But you looked away, ignoring it.

"Just some touch up work." He quickly picked it up and closed all the open windows. He tucked the device under his arm, going to charge it at the desk.

"So, who is Hyejin?" You couldn't help but ask in a low voice

"Just a friend I met. Seonghwa introduced us." Hongjoong replied. Internally, he was confused at your change in demeanour.

"Ah, I'm so glad I could take the day off tomorrow." You changed the subject, taking a long sip of tea before putting it on the nightstand beside you. Hongjoong laughed and got under the covers.

"Come." Just like at your house, Hongjoong waved you over. You moved in without hesitation, leaning against his touch. He tucked your head under his chin.

"It'll be okay, hmm? Don't be bothered by work and what your parents do." He rubbed your arm while hugging you.

"Thanks, Joong. I feel like you're the only one that will always believe in me." You closed your eyes.

"You should believe in yourself too, aein." He whispered.

When Hongjoong woke up, he was greeted by your sleeping face. You were calmly and safely tucked against his side, sleeping without a care in the world. Hongjoong smiled softly, stroking your head before getting up to close the curtains properly. You were always annoyed when even a little bit of sunlight came in to wake you.

*RINGGGGGG*

Hongjoong scrambled to get his phone, running out of the room so you wouldn't wake up.

"Hello?" He spoke softly even though he was a good distance away from the bedroom. He was still worried that you may get woken up by the slightest noise.

"Where are you? You're not coming into the studio today?"

"Oh, Hwa. No... I don't think I am." He said, leaning against the wall to look out the window.

"Why? You don't usually forget to cancel studio time unless it's an emergency. Please don't tell me you're going on another spontaneous holiday or something."

"I'm not... I'm just... busy..." Hongjoong scratched his head, not really sure on what to say. Seonghwa was silent on the other side.

"Oh my god. You have someone over, didn't you? Good on you, Hongjoong! Was she good?"

"Please don't speak about her in such a way..." He mumbled, annoyed that you were being mentioned in such a crude way, even if Seonghwa didn't intentionally mean it, not knowing that the person that as over was you.

"The person... It's (y/n)... isn't it...?"

"I-"

"Save it, Hongjoong. You don't have to explain it to me. Please just tell me you didn't do anything stupid that you will both regret."

"No, none of that. She was just having a hard time and I'm returning the favour. I comforted her like how she comforted me when I was struggling. That's all." Hongjoong explained.

6th November, Monday, 10pm

You stood outside of the club. It was closed for a private event but when you showed your card to the bouncer, he opened the velvet rope for you to go in.

"You okay?" A hand came up on your shoulder. You looked over to your plus 1, Jeong Yunho. He offered to come with you so you don't get lost and you didn't want your usual 3 friends to know you're here, they might actually tear the place down. But you were sure Yunho might tell Mingi at some point, they're best friends.

'HAPPY BIRTHDAY HONGJOONG!'

Was displayed everywhere. Yes, this celebration was to ring in Hongjoong's birthday at midnight. Hongjoong had sent you an invite and you asked Yunho to come with you for moral support.

You could have said no but deep down, you knew you couldn't. You didn't want Hongjoong to think there was something wrong.

"Sorry, where are the presents?" You asked someone that was dressed in a server outfit with a nametag.

"Follow me." He waved you over. Yunho walked behind you, guarding you against all the moving bodies. You were sure Seonghwa organised this party for him.

"Wow." Some presents looked huge and some weren't even wrapped, just presented into their luxury label paper bags. Compared to your small present, it seemed like it would get lost somewhere.

"Don't doubt it." Yunho whispered, knowing you. You sighed and placed the paper bag down.

"Shall we get some drinks?" He asked. You knew Yunho would take care of you if you had alcohol. He wasn't drinking, wanting to be sober to take care of you and because he was driving. You went to the bar to order yourself a cocktail.

Meanwhile, you hadn't noticed that Hongjoong was staring at you from the moment you walked in. His eyes narrowed in on Yunho, he wasn't part of your usual trio.

"Hongjoong! Are you enjoying yourself?" Seonghwa came up to him. Hongjoong nodded, making Seonghwa followed his gaze.

"You invited her?!" Seonghwa exclaimed.

"She's still a friend, Hwa." Hongjoong mumbled. Seonghwa face palmed, seeing the male by your side, he knew Hongjoong was going to be preoccupied the whole night.

"Please enjoy your own party." He sighed. Hongjoong took a sip of his drink, turning to his best friend.

"I am enjoying the party, Hwa. Thank you for organising it. I've spent the past two hours greeting people." Hongjoong cringed slightly. He appreciated Seonghwa's efforts but preferred a smaller, quieter, more intimate celebration. When Hongjoong saw you get up and try to head over, he straightened up.

"Go, go." He shooed Seonghwa away as you approached. Seonghwa rolled his eyes and walked away. But he did cross paths with you.

"Hi, Seonghwa." You gave a friendly smile. Seonghwa smiled softly, pulling you in for a hug.

"Hi, (y/n). How have you been?" He asked. Seonghwa didn't hate you or dislike you in anyway, like your own friends, he thought you and Hongjoong continuing as friends like this wasn't healthy.

"I've been good. What about you?" You blinked up at him.

"Great. You know the usual, taking care of Hongjoong." He chuckled. He could feel Hongjoong burning holes into the back of his head.

"I better let you go greet the birthday boy before I'm 6 feet under." Seonghwa patted your head before walking away. You tilted your head in confusion but went to Hongjoong.

"Aein, you made it." Hongjoong smiled softly as you came into view. You were beautiful, as you always were. You were dressed in a black dress with a slit going up the side of your thigh, the bodice hugged your curves nicely.

"Of course. Happy early birthday, Joong." You giggled, wrapping your arms around him. Hongjoong's scent always comforted you.

"Thank you." He closed his eyes, savouring the hug.

"You came with a friend?" Hongjoong asked when you both pulled away. You both wished the hug could last longer but it would just make the whole thing awkward.

"Yeah, just someone to make sure I get home safe in case I go overboard with the drinks." You said shyly, rubbing the back of your neck.

"Aein, I'll always make sure you're safe. You know I won't let you be in any sort of danger." Hongjoong frowned slightly. You didn't need Yunho to take care of you, he could do it, ma

"I know. I... I just want you to enjoy your party, don't worry about me." You said, squeezing his hand with a reassuring smile.

"Hongjoong! Happy soon birthday!" A girl appeared behind you. You blinked in confusion.

"Thanks, Hyejin." He replied. This was Hyejin, the girl that Seonghwa introduced to him. Now you felt out of place, like you were the one that wasn't supposed to be there.

"Enjoy your party." You wished. With another brief hug, you left him, going back to the bar where Yunho was waiting for you. You didn't want to leave his side, Hongjoong didn't want you to go too.

"Whenever you want to leave, just let me know. I'm here only for you." Yunho told you kindly. You nodded with a smile, taking a sip of your drink. Honestly, Yunho also disapproved of you coming but he'd rather come with you than let you come here alone. You insisted you were here to celebrate a friend's birthday, that's all.

"Alright everyone! Let's countdown to the birthday boy's birthday!" Seonghwa said in the mic, standing with everyone on the stage. You saw Hyejin standing beside him with a big smile.

"10... 9... 8... 7..." Everyone counted down with their drinks in hand. Hongjoong looked at you as you counted down with the crowd.

"1! Happy birthday Hongjoong!" Seonghwa yelled into the mic with everyone else raising their glass for the toast.

"Happy birthday Hongjoong!" Hyejin wrapped her arms around Hongjoong, giving him a peck. The crowd cheered at her action while Hongjoong's eyes widened at the action.

"Hyejin..." He was stunned.

His eyes searched for you frantically. You were still there but Hongjoong knew, your genuine smile was gone.

This was your fake, forced smile. Your mask of a smile.

He watched as Yunho leaned in to whisper something to you. You took the last sip of your drink and nodded, placing the empty glass on the counter. Yunho held your hand to help you off the bar stool and led you through the crowd to the exit of the club.

"(y/n)..." Hongjoong whispered.

"Enjoy the rest of the night everyone! Thanks again for coming to celebrate the birthday boy!" Seonghwa said to everyone before getting off the platform.

"Why would you do that?" Hongjoong frowned at Hyejin, who looked stunned at Hongjoong's reaction.

"I... I'm sorry, Hongjoong." She hung her head low.

"We're not dating, Hyejin. We just met! And you just do that in front of all my friends?" Hongjoong hissed. Seonghwa, who watched the exchange, sighed.

Yes, Hyejin shouldn't have done that. But he knew that Hongjoong was more bothered that you saw Hyejin kiss him.

15th December, Friday, 6:02pm

You sighed tiredly, getting up from your desk. There were too many year end wrap ups to do but you wanted to get them done before your Christmas leave started. While Yunho promised he didn't tell the other 3 about what happened at Hongjoong's party, it was suspicious when Wooyoung suddenly suggested a vacation.

It would be good. You wouldn't have to go to your stuffy family Christmas celebration, it was good to get away and you wouldn't be near Hongjoong.

But speaking of, you haven't contacted each other since the night of the party. Maybe it was for the better.

You were not dating, he was only a friend, so you shouldn't feel hurt or bitter. You told yourself that you should be happy for him, you knew he was a good partner, he would make Hyejin happy.

'I'm downstairs. - Yuyu'

'On the way. - (y/n)'

Yunho wanted to take you out to dinner tonight. You were clear in expressing that you were not ready for a relationship, no matter what your feelings were. But he assured you, it was just dinner.

"Yuyu." You called out to him. He straightened from his leaning postured against his car, smiling softly.

"Hi, (y/n). I hope you had a good day at work." He wrapped his arms around you to engulf you in a big bear hug, or what you would call a puppy hug, even rocking you from side to side. You giggled, putting your own arms around him.

"I told you to dress warmer." He tsked, taking the scarf off his neck and wrapping it around you.

"I'm fine." You waved him off. But he shook his head, opening the door to usher you into the warm car. Once you were seated, he closed the door and went to the driver's side.

You didn't notice the car that was parked a little behind Yunho. Hongjoong looked at the exchange between you and Yunho.

"Damn it." He slammed his fist against the steering wheel. He hadn't contacted you, he was scared.

He was scared of what you were going to tell him, he didn't want you to wish him the best. But he couldn't take it anymore so he wanted to speak to you physically.

But after witnessing that, if there was something between you and Yunho, he shouldn't be in the way. He should wish you both the best right?

25th December, Monday, 2:34pm

The boys decided to rent a cabin in a forest village of Kurokawa in Kumamoto, Japan. It was cold like Korea but the forest scenary was beautiful and there were Christmas lights set up everywhere, which was very pretty at night. You were seated next to the heater on the balcony, admiring the view.

*BEEP BEEP*

'Merry Christmas, aein. - Hongjoong'

You stared at the message for a while, chewing on your bottom lip as you decided if you wanted to reply. You knew if you wanted to let go of Hongjoong, you needed to stop contacting him.

'Merry Christmas, Hongjoong. - (y/n)'

When was the last time you called him 'Hongjoong' and not 'Joong'? Even when you broke up, you called him 'Joong'.

"Hey, beautiful. The boys wanna go snowboarding and-" San suddenly appeared. He seemed to have glanced at your phone because he frowned, taking it from your hands.

"Sannie." You tried to take your phone back.

"Come, Mingi wants to build a snowman with you." He said, tucking his phone into his pocket. You nodded, slipping your hand into his and letting him lead you out. Being with the 4, you knew you had to put Hongjoong at the back of your mind and enjoy yourself.

'How's Japa|'

*delete*

'You decided to travel for Christmas? That's gre|'

*delete*

Hongjoong groaned out, tossing his bed on the side. He really wished he was home where his home studio was and he could work. But he came to visit his parents for Christmas, only bringing his laptop.

"Hongjoong ah. Santa Claus can hear your sighs all the way in the North Pole." Mrs Kim clicked her tongue as she came in.

"Santa Claus isn't real, omma." Hongjoong scoffed, sitting up. Mrs Kim laughed and sat beside Hongjoong.

"Whatever it is you're going through, my dear son, you'll get through it. Sometimes, things just aren't to go our way, no matter how bad we want it to. But that doesn't mean it's the end. There's still so much to look forward to, you never know what life will throw at you." Mrs Kim smiled, rubbing Hongjoong's back.

7th January, Sunday, 10:13am

Hongjoong gulped as he stood before your front door. When you had suddenly texted him to meet, he grew nervous. You always called him and instead of asking to go over, you asked him over to yours.

*DING DONG*

Here goes nothing.

"Coming!" You replied, feeling your heart race as you approached your front door. You felt a lump in your throat, one that was too big to swallow. Seeing Hongjoong when you opened the door just made things worse. This was a bad idea.

"Hey, Hongjoong. Thanks for coming so early." You smiled, stepping aside for him to enter your house. There it was, you dropping the nickname and calling him 'Hongjoong' like an acquaintance.

"Hey. No worries, at all. I hope you had a good holiday." He returned the smile, reaching over to hug you briefly.

"I did. It was a nice getaway. What did you do?" You asked as you closed the door.

"Visited my parents for a bit, celebrated Christmas and New Years with extended family." He shrugged, removing his shoes and sitting on the couch. He was so stiff and awkward.

"Oh. That's nice. How are they?"

"Good." Hongjoong replied. You handed him a glass of iced coffee, holding your own tumbler in your hand before sitting down next to him.

You both felt a little deja vu, it was negative, making your stomachs sink and your hearts race. The last time you 'talked' like this, you were in Hongjoong's apartment, sitting down and ultimately ending the conversation in tears and with a break up. You gulped, trying to find the words.

"It's okay. Breathe." Hongjoong said, leaning forward and placing a comforting hand on your knee. It didn't help, you didn't want him to be nice, it only made things harder.

"I think I know what you want to talk about. That our friends were right, weren't they? We couldn't continue as friends like we thought." He spoke.

"Hongjoong... I..." Your bottom lip quivered.

"It's okay." He rubbed your back.

"I still care about you, Hongjoong. I really do... It's just... It's hard. I feel like my heart gets hopeful that we can go back to being something more but we can't." You looked at him, seeing tears in his eyes.

"At least I know I'm not the only one that feels that way. We tried to make it work but we still couldn't." He said.

"I'm sorry." You cried.

"Aein, don't be sorry. There's no one at fault. Unknowingly we've both been holding each other back that the other can't move on." He pulled you into a hug to soothe you.

"We both liked the comfort too much that it became too comfortable, similar to our relationship. Being just a phone call away from each other hurt more than it helped." You said softly. Hongjoong nodded in agreement, wiping his fallen tears.

"I don't want to lose you, Joong." You shook your head, subconsciously using the nickname. Hongjoong felt the same, he had already lost you as a lover, now he was going to lose you forever.

"I don't want to lose you too, aein."

"I shouldn't have confessed my feelings. If I didn't, we would have still been friends. We wouldn't be here." You said.

"No, please... Please don't say that like you regret it. Our time together was the best time of my life, I don't regret it at all. So please don't." He begged you, choking on a sob.

"And if you didn't confess, I would have. My only regret is not cherishing you more when I had the chance." He forced a small smile.

"It's not solely your fault, a relationship needs effort from both sides." You chuckled. You and Hongjoong just stared at each other, sharing a short moment of silence.

"Before I go, I just want to clarify. There's nothing between me and Hyejin. I didn't lie or hide anything from you." He blurted out.

"You don't have to explain it to me, Joong. It's fine. You're free to move on and love whoever you want. I know the girl you end up with is going to be the luckiest girl in the world." You smiled. Deep down, Hongjoong wished that girl was you. He already knew it was going to be a while until he can actually move on.

"Well, I can say the same for you. I wish you and Yunho the best." He said. You didn't correct him that you and Yunho weren't dating because was there a need to now?

"Thank you for everything, Joong. You gave me some of the best memories I've ever had." You pulled him in for a hug.

"Thank you for loving me, no matter how difficult I am, (y/n)." He cried softly and closed his eyes, squeezing you against him. You shook your head.

"Don't cry." You whispered, cupping his cheeks and wiping his tears with your thumbs. Hongjoong smiled tearfully, holding your hands in his. The both of you chuckled through your cries.

"Take care of yourself, hmm?" He said, rubbing the back of your hands. You nodded obediently.

"You too." You smiled softly.

You wanted to tell him, that if he ever needs you, he can always call you. But you said the same thing to him when you broke up, which led to the current predicament that you're both in so you kept quiet.

With that, Hongjoong reluctantly pulled his hands away from yours, walking down the hall with a hunched posture to hide his cries. Looking down at your hands, they suddenly felt cold as Hongjoong took his warmth away with him, as well as his heart.

214 notes · View notes

nogenderbee · 2 months

Text

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ 𝕊𝕙𝕪 𝕘𝕒𝕞𝕖𝕣 ₊˚ˑ༄

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ hi there, blade, jing yuan, welt and dan heng with a teen reader thats like nene kusanagi? :)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Hey hey! And omg yes of course! I love the crossover I get from pjsk and hsr honestly ^^ So hopefully you'll like at least a bit what I wrote!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ platonic

✧ Dan Heng honestly liked your shyness, you were like the only person on the Express who didn't chat that much so he found your presence quite relaxing

✧ but if you fine silences uncomfortable, he won't force moments when you two just sit next to each other silently and relax after long day

✧ bur silence is quickly broke by you playing your games and he realizes he was wrong... you're still not this bad but when your cheering gets louder within every day, it really makes him reconsider his thoughts

✧ it certainly takes him some time but believe me, he can get used and learn how to ignore your cheering, so he's back at finding your presence relaxing

✧ he doesn't mind your sharp tongue at all, in fact he's happy you can stand up for yourself- what do you mean it's only towards people you're comfortable with?!

"Eh... they want vanilla cupcake. What? And with sprinkles... Can't you really say it yourself? You were confident enough to insult someone's whole life in there shooting game of yours."

✧ that certainly surprises him but he realizes that when someone insults you irl, he'll have to be the one to step in...

✧ he doesn't mind your passions but be he's not necessarily interested in trying them out either... he just sort of accepts it like a hobby of any other

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@miya-akane @toyaswif3y - come get your quiet but scary trabilazer!

✧ Welt is definitely trying to be supportive and he doesn't mind your shyness a bit, he finds it adorable and it makes him somehow hopeful you won't cause troubles despite being a teen on express

✧ but once you get comfortable and he hears how emotional you can get during your games? He's on...

✧ you know how parents always say "it's because of your phone"? Yeah it's him... but he just applies that to your mood swings and sharp tongue, and nothing irrelevant like stomach pain!

"Watch tour language. I understand they made you mad but you stiill shouldn't say things like that. How about you take a break? Himeko just made tea."

✧ at some point, he probably tried giving you screen time limit but he can't be too strict... so unless you're troublemaker, you'll get past few additional hours

✧ he finds it curious how your personality switches depending on how comfortable you are, but he figures out why it happens pretty quickly

✧ he'll gladly take you with express on any exploration so you can slowly get more courageful, but if you'll prefer to stay in with PomPom and probably Dan Heng too, he's not gonna force you

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@vodka-glrl - come get your father of the express!

✧ Jing Yuan is pretty interested in your personality and passions if being honest

✧ he didn't mind your shyness and when you started being playfully salty? He saw it as a little gift of seeing your real self after hard work of gaining your trust

✧ he doesn't mind speaking for you, he'll even lens you his ear what you want to say and he'll repeat it

"You know I don't mind you hiding behind me. But I'll have to ask you to not pull my hair, please?"

✧ also, he never takes your remarks too personally, he appreciates the friendly critique and knows that you're just being playful teen

✧ he loves listening about your games, movies and so on! In fact, he even asked you if he could watch or play a bit

✧ he's not great at gaming but with you carrying him, you still rarely loose and both of you have fun because somehow, Jing Yuan finds weirdest buts and easter eggs while wandering around

✧ he knows someone in Xianzhou who may share your passion for games... so he uses that to get you some new friends and hopefully to open up to more people

✧ that's really the only thing he might push you forward to, if you have trouble making friends, he has no problem with helping you find the right people

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@miya-akane - come get your soft general~

✧ at first you were nothing like Silver Wolf to Blade, but after he saw how competitive and honest you can be... he finds so many similiar traits between you two

✧ you mean games made you so salty? What's going on with kids these days...

✧ but in the end, he couldn't care less as long as you worn annoy him

✧ and luckily for him, you're still rather shy so his intense gaze seems enough to make you go away and he'll use that fact

✧ but when you start getting more comfortable around him and Stallaron Hunters... he realizes it's not so easy anymore...

✧ you're not necessarily bothering him but he can hear your insults and remarks on his persona when you talk with Silver

✧ instead of 1 game fanatic who screams, yells and cheers after every victory or death, now he has to deal with 2... great.

"Keep it down you two. Don't forget where you are and what's our mission. Just because we're having a break doesn't mean you should give away our hideout. Because I can promise, I won't save you when enemies come."

✧ he really feels more on neutral end to you tho... you may talk behind his back and cheer and so... but you never tried forcing him into games he didn't like

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@vodka-glrl - come get your cold man!

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babiexiao · 10 months

Text

contains : princess / fem!reader, head knight!gojo, implied secret relationship. this is just... angst i guess with a sprinkle of fluff... overprotective gojo *moans* this is about 1k of brainrot word vomit hhhhhhhhhhhhh :D not proofread cause i'm lazy, pls ignore any mistakes!

time moved by far too slow for satoru. for someone whose day passed in a blink of an eye with all of his responsibilities, today was far too slow. it felt like watching paint dry. it felt like a snail moving across the pavement. it felt like a century had passed before the bright light of the sun finally started to set. dusk slowly turning into night, and as the moon took its place in the night sky, was he able to escape from his duties and finally able to walk to your bedroom, hands held in tight fists by his sides.

"you two may leave. the king wants me to be stationed here for tonight." a lie. but the two guards didn't know any better. why would they ever think their head knight would ever lie to them in the first place.

what they don't know, won't hurt them, was what gojo told himself, watching the two salute him and proceeding to walk down the corridor far away from your bedroom. he waited till they were out of sight first and then listened out for the clunking noises the armour made as they walked down the stairs. when it was finally silent, he opened your door, shutting it behind him quickly.

you almost let out a scream at the sudden intrusion into your space. fear from the attack on your life only a night prior still too fresh in your mind. but the white mop of hair on top of the males head had you sighing in relief, aware that it was not an intruder but in fact satoru. but that relief didn't stay for too long. you were well aware that the king would have placed guards outside your door to keep you safe after what had happened and you could not afford to let your relationship with satoru be revealed just yet.

"satoru, what are you doing here? my father–" your worried whisper was cut short rather abruptly.

"fuck your father." if satoru was in a better mindset than he is now, he never would have spoken of the king, your father, in such a way and he's never been more glad there were no guards standing post outside your bedroom to judge his vulgar use of words towards the monarch either.

"are you hurt? did they touch you?" immediately, he's bombarding you with questions, eyebrows furrowed deeply as his eyes start to dart over your body. inspecting you. "would you let me have a look at you. please?"

you nod slightly, but turn your head to the right side a little, fearing what he'll do when he sees it.

his takes large but quiet strides towards you, hands that shook with fear now reaching out to hold your wrists. he inspects your skin, slowly, letting his hands and eyes travel across your skin, and it all seems fine until he brushes the strands of hair out of your face and finally notices the freshly dried blood on your cheek. it looked deep. no, it was deep. gojo was no stranger to cuts and bruises, even with a simple glance he could tell it was deep. it would leave a scar behind and it would take time to heal.

"i..." he inhales shakily, trying to keep his voice low as he could. an attempt to keep himself calm, to keep himself from lashing out. "i-i should have been there."

"satoru..." you began, only to be cut off again.

"i should have fucking been there." remorse. that's all satoru could feel. remorse for not being by your side like he had promised many moons earlier as you two hid from the maids attempting to prepare you for bed. remorse for not being by your side to keep you from harm. but hidden in that remorse, was also anger. anger that anyone even dared to touch a princess – not just any princess. his princess. the very princess that would become his queen in the future. the very princess that should have everyone in the land bowing to her. the princess he loves and swore to keep out of harms way.

"i should have fucking protected you. shit– i should have been there. i should have been protecting you like i said i would... i'm sor–"

"toru. i'm okay. please look at me." you place a gentle had over his chest, albeit over his armour, you swear you're able to feel how furiously his heart is beating. it doesn't take a genius to see all the emotions swimming in his eyes.

worry. hurt. pain. regret.

"satoru - the strongest knight in the kingdom... my favourite knight - gojo. i am okay. i promise you." the praise earns a brief smile from him before it fades, his thumb brushing the deep cut on your cheek ever so gently but it makes you inhale sharply anyway. it causes gojo to flinch, withdrawing his warm hands immediately but you reach out for his wrist with both hands desperately. "n-no! it... it jus' hurts because it's fresh... please, i just– i just need to feel you, toru. please, don't be afraid to touch me."

it was all gojo needed to hear from you. all he needed was your permission to touch you and he does. he cups your face in his hands, watching as the tension and stress leaves your body, jaw loosening and eyebrows relaxing. he watches as your eyes close for a few seconds before fluttering open. you place a kiss against the palm of his hand. "will you please stay the night with me? i'm... afraid they will come back." gojo watches you tense up at the mention of the men who tried to hurt you last night. his response is immediate.

"of course i will." his thumb finds its way to the wrinkles in the middle of your eyebrows, rubbing the spot a little. "do not frown so much. you will start looking older than you are, princess."

his teasing earns a smile from you, and he's glad when he sees you soften in his hold. the both of you stay silent for a while, finding comfort in the silence and each other. you've always felt safe with satoru, and tonight is no different.

"princess," he begins, pulling you in by your waist ever so slightly, your body pressed up against his armour. "i swear on my life, i will kill any bastard who dares lay so much as a finger on you again. i promise you. i'll execute them myself." you do not bother replying to him, instead sealing the promise he's made by standing on your tippy toes to press your lips against his.

#was supposed to be inspired by that one scene from the glory (iykyk) but it didn't go the way i wanted to this happened instead lmaooo #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo fluff #gojo angst #jjk x reader #jjk angst #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #if this is shit please don't come @ me i've never written straight up fluff / angst before and i'm so nervous abt posting this weeeeeee #going into hiding now #i need to fix my tags but i am far too lazy so sorry about that

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miistymemorii · 1 year

Text

Rock The Boat

pariring: shiv roy x fem!reader

summary: You and Shiv find yourself getting to know each other a little better when the two of you are accidentally stranded at sea.

rating: 18+ (smut smut SMUT, no minors!!!!)

wordcount: 2k

A/N : to say i am a placemat for shiv roy (and sarah snook) to stomp all over is an understatement. happy pride bitches. please enjoy.

It was a beautiful moment. You were perched at the very front of the boat, the soft waves causing the ocean spray to sprinkle your skin, the sun beating down on you as you closed your eyes and took in the sound of the water against the boat. Your hair was down, your shoes off, and for once in your career, you found yourself able to relax.

You had been less than enthusiastic when your boss, Shiv Roy, had told you on very short notice that you were to accompany her in Italy for some business meetings with her family. You were a new hire, and you had not had the pleasure of meeting the rest of Shiv's infamous family. To say you were dreading it was an understatement. Shiv had surprised you, though. She wasn't making you do any real work, instead just allowing you to follow her around like an obedient lapdog, letting you take advantage of the fine cuisine and drinks that were being offered.

You had been the one to suggest the boat ride. You and Shiv had gone to dinner with her family, and the entire time you could see the subtle shifts in her demeanor as her father and brothers refused to take her seriously. You figured she deserved a break from her family, so you coaxed her onto a small boat that you had made sure was loaded with her favorite foods and booze.

You heard Shiv clearing her throat behind you, so you opened your eyes and swiveled, smiling at her. She had her usual smirk on her face, but her eyes were softer than usual. She was cautious about enjoying herself, clearly, but you could tell she was trying. "So, do you do sneaky shit like this for all of your bosses, or am I just special?" Shiv teased, sitting down on the seat across from you.

You gave her a small smile, shaking your head. "No, most of my other bosses were pretty insufferable."

Shiv looked away, pretending to focus on the waves. She took a beat, then said, "You don't think I'm insufferable, then, nice to know." She let out a humorless laugh then added, "I think you might be the only one, actually."

Sure, Shiv could be a bitch. You had seen her get cold and snippy with her family and even her husband, but you had also seen her the way she beat herself up, the emotional toll she was taking on herself as someone who had been clearly resorted to bitterness.

There was a lapse of silence, your eyes on her as she kept her gaze on the waves. Shiv finally turned her gaze to you, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "You know, it would be a shame if we let all that booze go to waste."

You pretended to feign shock. "Should we really be drinking if we're operating a small nautical vessel, Shiv?"

Shiv let out a short laugh and stood up. "Please, y/n. I can operate this boat drunk better than Rome and Ken can sober. C'mon, show me where you stashed them."

You giggled and hopped up, leading her to the small cooler filled with various cans of alcoholic beverages. You pulled out two cans and held out one to Shiv, who looked at it in your hand then laughed. You realized she was used to finer liquor, of course, but she eventually took the can out of your hands and opened it.

"Sorry, I didn't think to bring anything nice-"

She was already downing it, and your mouth hung open slightly in shock. You had seen her drink before, but it was all sipping the priciest drinks from the daintiest glasses. Now, she was greedily drinking from a can of cheap beer, and she looked so... normal. You opened your own can and started sipping, figuring one of you should be more sober if you wanted to get back to shore. Shiv reached down and scooped up some more cans, then wordlessly made her way back to the seated area at the front of the boat.

You went to resume your seat across from her, but Shiv grabbed your wrist and gently tugged you into the seat next to her. You watched with wide eyes as she set off on another can, a few droplets of beer dripping past her lips and running down her chin. Down to her breasts, which were sitting quite nicely in her bathing suit. You looked down at your can, praying the heat in your body wasn't visible to Shiv.

"You know, you're kind of my best friend, y/n." Shiv remarked. You hummed in appreciative agreement, still not able to look her in the eyes. You could tell she was looking at you, which made your blood run even hotter. Shiv gently nudged her shoulder against yours, forcing you to look at her. She had a look on her face, one you had only seen on her brother, Roman, when he was looking at their coworker Gerri. It was the softness in the eyes that comes from being vulnerable, something you knew Shiv wasn't used to being. Shiv continued, "I mean, I can't think of anyone else who would've done something nice like this for me. Maybe Tom, but..." She sighed then switched took another sip from her drink. "Why did you do this, anyways? What's the end game?"

You raised an eyebrow at her. "End game?"

Shiv scoffed, and your heart broke a little as you realized she still didn't completely trust you. What really hurt was that you were fine with it, because she had been betrayed by so many people before. "I mean, you want to take time off? Paid vacation? A raise? You know I already pay you a fuck ton more than anyone else would reasonably pay an assistant-"

You gently put your hand on her shoulder, frowning. "Shiv, no, it's not like that. You seemed stressed, that's all. I wanted to help."

Shiv set her can in the cupholder next to her and crossed her arms, studying you. "You're telling me you did this just... out of the kindness of your little 'ol heart?" When you nodded, she added quietly, "Aren't you a sweetheart?"

You shrugged. "I just know that when my family pisses me off, I like to do something fun and try forget about it. For your family... well, I thought booze would be the best remedy."

Shiv let out a giggle, a genuine giggle, which made your slightly booze-tainted self giggle as well. You nudged her shoulder and added jokingly, "I mean... if you want to give me a raise-"

"Oh, fuck you!" Shiv laughed, reaching over and flicking your nose. The gesture was so small and childish, but the feeling of her touch just barely against your skin lingered. You were sure you were going to burst into flames.

Shiv often asked you questions, mundane ones about the life of a "normal person", as she called you. The two of you continued to drink and talk, Shiv becoming more comfortable as the sunlight burned away. "So much for swimming," you thought, but you didn't mind. Spending time with Shiv was enough for you.

The sun was beginning to set, more time having passed than you had realized. You cleared your throat, wanting to be the reasonable one. "Well, we should probably sail back. We've gotta pack and get on the plane by 8 a.m., and I know how grumpy you get when you don't get enough sleep."

You stood to leave, but Shiv grabbed your wrist, tugging it gently. "No, please stay! I can sleep on the plane."

You shook yourself out of her grasp and Shiv pouted, making you giggle. You shook your head with a grin as you made your way over to the steering wheel, watching Shiv for a moment as she closed her eyes and leaned her head back, a small smile on her face. You turned the key to start the boat back up... but nothing. You frowned a little then tried again, but the boat only offered a weak sputter in return. "Uh... Shiv?"

She was still in a blissful state, soaking in the remaining sunrays. "Hmm?"

You were a little drunk, which made you panic even more. "I don't think the boat will start." You said quietly.

Shiv opened her eyes, her head lolling as she looked at you. "What was that?"

You tried to start the boat again, but the sputtering sound was even louder. Shit. "The, uh... the boat won't start."

Shiv sighed, then shakily got to her feet. She giggled at her own wobbliness, but still made her way over to you. She put her hand on your shoulder for stability, so close next to you that you could smell her expensive perfume and feel her boozy breath on your neck. She reached around you, fiddling with the wheel. "Oh my gosh, y/n, what did you do to the boat?" Shiv teased.

You turned your head and Shiv was right there. You held your breath, trying to get yourself together. You wanted to look away, but you couldn't tear yourself from her gaze. Her eyebrows furrowed a little but you couldn't decipher her expression. Her eyes flittered down to your lips, and you abandoned all your morals and gently pressed your lips to hers.

Your lips lingered against hers for a moment, but something in you snapped you back to reality, and you were the first to pull away.

"Shiv, I'm so-"

"Just-" Shiv held up a finger, a smirk on her lips. "Just kiss me again."

Shiv leaned in to kiss you, but you stopped her by gently pushing her shoulder back. "Shiv, we can't. You're married, and Tom-"

"Fuck Tom, I'll divorce him when we get back to land, whatever." Your eyes widened at her statement, but she shook her head. "I won't but... I don't feel anything for him. Nothing that's real, anyways. But you..." She sighed. Shiv looked down, a mischievous smirk forming on her face. "You're real, and what I feel is real. So just... can you kiss me, please?" She gently took your hands in hers, her thumb tracing over your finger. You shivered, which made her look you in the eyes again. She leaned in and softly pressed her lips to yours, and you couldn't resist. Shiv's fingers were instantly in your hair, holding you in place as your lips moved in sync. No-one had ever kissed you like this before, so passionately but not aggressively. There was feeling behind it, overwhelming you in the best way possible. The taste of her in your mouth was addicting, and you prayed it would linger after this whole affair was done. Your lungs were screaming for you to pull away for a breath, but Shiv removed her lips from yours and attached them to your neck, the hand in your hair tugging back slightly, exposing her ravenous mouth to your neck. Your hands shot behind you to grip the control panel, your knees buckling as Shiv suckled gently into your skin.

Shiv's lips left your skin with a small 'pop', her eyes studying you. Your chest was heaving, desperate to her feel her against you again. You felt pathetic, how badly you wanted more, but you wouldn't dare say it out loud.

Shiv spun the two of you around, landing you in the chair next to the steering wheel. Her hands were on the armrests, her lips diving into yours once again. The angle was a little awkward, but you figured Shiv would be the one in charge, so you were happy to let her do whatever she wanted with you. When Shiv's lips left yours again, you couldn't help the whine that came out, which she laughed at. Your cheeks burned as you felt embarrassed, but her hands moved to your thighs, which let you know she wasn't making fun of you. Shiv kept her eyes on yours as she slowly sunk to her knees, her hands moving up your thighs to the band of your bathing suit bottoms. You shameless lifted your legs slightly, her hands moving in sync to remove your bottoms. The sun had gone down, the air a little chilly, and you shivered again, goosebumps blossoming on your skin.

Shiv used her hands to let your legs be open to her, totally exposed. She bit her lip slightly before saying, "You know, consider this a thank you for the boat ride."

Before you could reply, her mouth was on you. She began at your thighs, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses against your soft skin. You squirmed and you could feel her lips smiling into your skin. She gave you the smallest of licks, her eyes flickering up to yours as you let out a whine at the contact. Your head dropped back in pleasure as she started to suckle on your clit, but you could feel her eyes on you. Shiv moaned against your clit, the vibrations like lightening up your spine. Shiv detached from your clit, and you looked down at her, slightly confused, but she straightened a little and held her hand up, her fingers tracing your lips. You weren't even thinking as you poked your tongue out against her fingers, taking them into your mouth. Shiv smirked and drove her fingers a little deeper, letting the wetness of your mouth soak her fingers. She hummed in contentment and pulled her fingers out, tilting her head up to kiss you on the lips before whispering, "So obedient, as usual."

You were a loss for words, but it didn't matter because her mouth was back on you in an instant, one of her fingers slowly entering you. You gasped and reached out to grab her hair on instinct, tugging slightly which made her moan loudly against you. You became lost in her, the sound of her moans, the feeling of her as she entered another finger into you, her fingers curling up in the most delicious way. Your legs begin to shake as you drowned in the feeling of her, calling to Shiv softly in between whines and moans. You could feel your release building, Shiv's hand speeding up as she watched you try not to unfold against her fingers. She didn't dare speak, but everything she wanted to say you could see in her hungry eyes. The thought of her stopping just to tease you briefly crossed you mind, but it was washed away by the feeling of your orgasm as you clenched down on her fingers. Her tongue lapped at you greedily as she tried to taste every drop of your release. You loudly moaned her name and gripped her hair, abandoning any shame you had left in your body.

Your chest was heaving, your body on fire, your hair sticky to your forehead as you opened your eyes and relaxed your body, looking down at Shiv. She was still kneeling below you, her fingertips making their way out of her mouth as she licked her bottom lip. She gave you a small smile before pressing a gently kiss your inner thigh. "That was pretty fucking amazing."

You blushed, bending forward to kiss her on the cheek. "Oh please, I didn't even do anything." You replied bashfully against her skin.

Shiv delicately shimmied your bathing suit bottoms back up your legs, helping you fix yourself up. "It doesn't matter, y/n, I really, really enjoyed doing that."

The two of you spent a moment in bliss, standing up and kissing each other softly on the lips. The moment was interrupted as you suddenly remembered the predicament with the boat. You pulled back from her lips and pressed your forehead against hers, sighing. "We need to call someone to come get us." You reminded her softly.

Shiv closed her eyes and hummed in agreeance, but her hands were still on your waist, her fingers tracing small patterns into your side. "Didn't you bring a little shirt or whatever to wear in case you got cold?"

"Yeah, I did-"

"Good, you'll need it." Shiv opened her eyes and leaned in impossibly closer to you, her lips so tempting as they just barely moved against yours as she said, "Make that phone call."

Her head dipped down as her lips attached themselves to your neck, and you fought the urge to sink back in the chair and let her have her way with you again, instead reaching behind her to find your phone. Your mind was only on her, but you managed to call Jess, Kendall's assistant, and ask if a boat could come pick you up. You were aware of how hard you were stuttering though the phone call, your tone a little high pitched as Shiv sucked a trail of hickies into your neck and chest. You hung up quickly, your legs opening on instinct as Shiv's fingers trailed to the apex of your thighs.

"Shiv..." you breathed out. "Jess said it'll only be a few minutes; we don't have time..."

Shiv groaned against your skin but pulled herself away, her hands instead going to straighten out your bathing suit top. "It's fine, really... we can continue this tomorrow. She gave your cheek a small pinch before adding, "Get ready to join the mile-high club, honey."

#shiv roy #shiv roy x reader #shiv roy smut #succession #succession fic #succession smut #siobhan roy #smut #x reader #wlw smut #wlw #succession x reader

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refiwrites · 1 year

Note

Hi can I request prompt number 28 with neteyam with a fem reader, thanks 😊

of course, im also a sucker for some neteyam fluff

Touch Prompt Number 28. Feeling for each other in the dark with Neteyam

Pairing: Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan x Fem! Omaticaya! Reader

Word count: 0.7k

Warning/s: neteyam and reader are both 18! slight sad thoughts, fluff with a sprinkle of angst?

GIF is not mine, credits to the owner!

Ever since the Metkayina has taken you in, you still longed for the grass on your feet, the adrenaline you felt when you were swinging on the vines of the Hallelujah Mountains, and climbing up all sorts of trees to get the best view of the sky.

But now all your feet felt was sand.

There were no vines to swing from, and there were no floating mountains.

But nonetheless you appreciated the new environment even if you longed for your home. Well, this was your new home now.

That thought is what has been keeping you awake at this time, your eyes open, staring blankly at the ceiling as Neteyam slept soundly beside you. It was dark, you couldn't even see if he was facing towards you or not.

You didn't even notice the tears brimming your eyes, only when they rolled on the side of your face, to which you hurriedly wiped it with the back of your hand, fearing that Neteyam may see.

You needed to be strong, you made this decision to go with them, and you couldn't be parted from your mate. You also didn't want him to see you like this.

A choked sob was released from you, making you pray that Neteyam didn't hear.

You were about to sit up and go for a walk when the creak of the bed sounded, and something ruffling.

Soon, you felt Neteyam's hand rest on your stomach.

So he was facing you.

It went to your stomach, then to your waist as he felt for you in the dark before pulling you in close to him.

His scent offered somewhat a blanket of comfort over you. He was there. He was there with you.

"Is there something bothering you, my love?"

With the dark, you could still feel his sleepy eyes on you, worried.

You were about to dismiss it, say you were fine but-

"Tell me, there is no need to hide from me." He said. You almost cursed at how good he was at this.

"I just-" You cursed at how your voice sounded, it definitely hinted that you were crying.

You faced him and buried your head under his chin, breathing him in.

This prompted Neteyam to rub soothing circles on your back as he heard your small sobs as your body started to shake. It ate away at his heart.

"I just miss.. Home."

Neteyam did too. He missed everything back in the Omaticaya, he missed going riding with you with his banshee, he missed climbing, he loved exploring the forest with you, and he deeply missed his grandmother.

He continued to rub your back.

"I do too." He responds, looking down and placing a comforting kiss on your forehead.

But he also knew this is what was needed to keep the people from the Omaticaya safe. With his family gone, there was no chance of the RDA finding and hunting them down.

However, something in him wished that things didn't have to end this way.

He feels your arm wrap around him as your legs tangled with one another.

"You know what I know?" He started, hoping that whatever he might say offer you comfort as it did him.

You let out a hum, urging him to continue.

"I know that you are strong. We will get through this. That pain, it is temporary. We will make it, you have me and I have you. We can do this, can we?" He said, hand going over to your face as he moved your face away from his chest so he could get a better look at you, thanks to the light shining from the moon, he could see you faintly.

You nod, gulping down your sobs as you finally calmed down as you focused only on Neteyam. "W-we can do it." You said.

"That's right." Neteyam offers you a sympathetic smile, his thumb stroking your cheek, wiping away any stray tear that found its way there.

"For now, sleep with me. Tomorrow we will do anything you'd like, deal?" He laughs.

You laugh at his deal, pecking his nose before resting your head against his chest again, your arm wrapped around him as he continued stroking your side.

"Deal."

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tonkatsubowl · 8 months

Text

a slice of life. — i

dan heng x fem!reader x blade

✱ modern au. college au.

➽ part two. | part three. | part four. | part five. | ...

a love triangle with a sprinkle of rivalry while dealing with the stress of college. the best sort of thing one should be dealing with. so... your life gets a little more wild.

"alright, listen up everyone!"

professor serval slammed her fist against the wooden surface of the stand as she caught the class' attention. she was probably the best professor anyone could have asked for, especially if you majored in fine arts or something. she was, however, your professor. she mainly offered pre-requisite classes, which was why she holds one of the most students here in her class, and is often defined as one of the best (favored, in other words by other students) professors.

gepard was a criminal arts major, and unfortunately for him, he's stuck in his class for his pre-requisite... for whatever reason. and he's often being embarrassed by his older sister, who often would make public announcements in regards to him. he was also one of your first friends here too, given that you were a transfer student here in university of the nameless. that was the reason why he escorted you into this class to begin with; opening the door for you as you entered, gaining the attention of many.

"this is y/n yang," serval said as she motioned to you, "she is a transfer student over from stellaron university. please treat her kindly, or i'll be in your closet tonight with my guitar... and that is a threat." serval squints at her class before smiling towards your direction, extending an arm towards the large class. "have a seat anywhere you'd like!"

a comical sweat drop rolls down your cheek as you stared at this rather... full-looking classroom. you were unable to find a seat, and your friend gepard was already sitting next to a few people... you looked around, observing the area for a moment...

you see a man with long black hair that covered the left portion of his eyes, who didn't seem to care about the lecture. you could see that you had his attention for a moment, but he was now occupied leaning back against his seat with boredom in his eyes...doing absolutely nothing. he was beautiful, but that was about it. his body language showed that he wasn't to be messed with, and you could tell. he seemed familiar, though... and you couldn't pin why.

further from him, a girl with pink, short hair had waved at you. you recognized her from this morning where she greeted you with enthusiasm. you remembered she introduced herself as "march" when you had asked for directions earlier. she escorted you around, showed you the commissary, the lounge, library... until she was pulled away to rush to her first class. she might be your first friend here too honestly, besides gepard... but unfortunately march was already being seated next to a few people, so you couldn't sit next to her.

serval could see you were awkwardly standing in place, unsure where to really sit. your eyes darted around, searching for a spot as you stood there awkwardly with all the eyes of the class fixated onto you. that was when she pointed towards dan heng's direction, who sat alone in his corner, listening to music as he took notes off of the presentation of serval's prior lecture.

"ah, you can sit next to dan heng over there," she motioned towards him, who wasn't really paying any attention, "sorry, my class can get pretty full, so i apologize miss yang..." the woman sheepishly smiled as you wandered to dan heng, "it's alright," you respond to your new professor as you sit next to the introvert.

dan heng watched as you came over, somewhat ignoring your presence as he looks back to the professor. he twirled his pen in his hand, looking out to the window next to him as he remained silent.

"alright, back to what i was saying..."

... and serval would return to her lecture as you placed your belongings down, shooting a faint smile to dan heng. you didn't say anything, given he was visibly wearing earbuds. it would be rude to say anything to him especially when nobody really wanted to be spoken to if they were listening to music, but hopefully enough the smile should suffice that you said hello to him.

you turn your attention to serval, listening to her (irrelevant and off topic) lectures. while trying to listen, your phone's familiar notification sound pings, catching your attention. your eyes soften, familiarizing with the text saying 'dad' being shown on your notification display.

right, your father was an animator. around this time, he's awake and he's getting prepared to leave for work for the day... and it was always sweet of him to check up on you on your first day of class.

➽ dad: how's your first day of university going so far, y/n?

➽ y/n: um, it's alright... i kind of miss kafka and everyone else.

➽ dad: i know. i'm sorry for the move, too.

➽ y/n: don't apologize, dad. i know work is work which was why we moved, but i'm still happy to be here.

➽ dad: it's still a new environment, so i hope you aren't too anxious. speaking of new environment, did you make any new friends yet?

➽ y/n: um, i think? some girl named march and a guy name gepard.

➽ dad: i see. well, i hope today goes well for you. i gotta get to work, now. love you. be safe. call me if you need anything.

➽ y/n: okay. love you

you then placed your phone down, letting it sit idly by as you tried to lay attention to class once again. however, your eyes linger to dan heng out of boredom, and to the display on his phone... that was when you found something that you recognized from the corner of your eye—the album cover of an artist you always listened to. truthfully, it was rare to find someone who was listening to your favorite artist, hoyo-mix*, and it was like seeing a unicorn in thin air—a rare sight to behold.

you didn't say anything at first... but you felt a little awkward and shy. you wanted to reach out to tap his shoulder to say something, but you decided not to...

...until he caught you staring.

dan heng pulled his earbuds out of his ears, before looking at you with a slight confused look, and seemingly judgemental.

"what? do you want to look at my notes?" he asked, pushing his notebook towards you a bit.

"ah- no, no," you shook your head, pointing at your phone, "i couldn't help but notice, um. you listen to hoyo-mix too?"

dan heng blinked, looking down at his phone. "yeah. i do. i'm assuming you do as well?"

you nod, a bit timidly. "yeah, actually. i didn't realize i'd find someone who listened to the same artist as me. i thought i was the only one."

dan heng handed you his (bluetooth) earbud, "would you like to listen? i'm listening to wildfire right now."

that was when your eyes lit up as you took his earbud with a soft nod. "mm!" placing the earbud in the correct ear, you'd fall silent, immediately vibing to the familiar melody of wildfire. you sat back, unfocused on the lecture that was prominently irrelevant (considering serval was now venting about her drama with another professor named cocolia).

...and before you knew it, class was over. the bell had rung, dismissing all the students.

"alright! don't forget, homework is due next week!" professor serval exclaimed as she placed her paperwork to the side, returning to her seat to finish up any professor-things on her computer.

as you got ready to get up to go to your next class, you hand the earbud back to dan heng, smiling faintly. "thank you." you say with a nod, watching as dan heng got up, putting up his laptop away into his bag and putting his notebook up. he nodded as a response to your gratitude, but as he turned his back to you, you stopped him, "w-wait."

dan heng blinked, turning around to face you.

"what's... what's your name?" you asked, knowing serval already gave you his name, "i'm y/n."

"...dan heng." he responded. "i have calculus next, so i'll be seeing you around... but, uh, what class do you have next? do you need an escort? given that you are new here."

"oh! um," you dug around for your phone, pulling out your schedule, "i have chemistry with... professor herta."

"i see. it's next to my class, so i'll take you there, if that's fine with you."

you shake your head, "i don't mind at all. let's go!"

with a smile, you follow dan heng out of the door.

the university you went to was well-known for its success for students who majored in computer science and law, as well as the aesthetically pleasing exterior and interior design of a medieval-style campus. it was splendid and it was beautiful, and due to your father's close connection with the headmaster—pom-pom—you were able to successfully transfer into the school itself. you had never met pom-pom before, but you hear rumors that pom-pom was a short man who was always hidden in his office...

...but you also hear that his assistant, himeko, was always doing the work for him. rumors are rumors, after all.

as you visually explored through the campus as dan heng took you to your next class, you didn't quite see what was in front of you... so a loud thud! had echoed through the halls. "ack-!"

you stagger back, bowing your head as an apology as you sputtered out, "ah, i'm sorry! are you okay?" shutting your eyes tight, you were frozen in place.

you didn't realize dan heng held you by the shoulder with his hand, seemingly protective... or just preventing you from falling more?

as you slowly raise your head and open your eyes, you find the same man with long, black hair with parts of his left eye covered... he was looking down at you intimidatingly, almost sending you shivers down your spine.

"it was an accident, blade." you could hear dan heng's voice sour up. the two of them would stare at each other for a moment, the atmosphere growing tense until the man who was meant to escort you shattered the silence.

"c'mon, let's go, y/n."

"...hmph. better watch where you're going next time." you could hear blade's voice as he walked away, his mysterious red eyes fixated at you as he exited the fray, hands into his pockets.

dan heng sighed, "sorry about that. are you alright?"

you nod slowly, turning your head to the side to witness the mysterious character known as blade disappear into the distance.

"he's an asshole. don't worry about him." dan heng murmured.

"a-alright. do you two have beef or something?" you asked, dusting yourself off before following after your escort again.

"something like that. i just ignore him when i see him." he sighed, "anyways, we're here. if you need anything, or you need directions,"

he held out his phone to you as the two of you came to a complete stop to large double doors, as though the two of you were standing behind the gates to a world of medieval fantasy itself,

"you can text me. here's my number. don't get lost."

* broke the fourth wall lol

#honkai star rail #hsr #hsr x reader #dan heng #hsr dan heng #honkai star rail blade #hsr blade #blade x reader #honkai star rail dan heng #dan heng x reader

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hivefleet-hellbender · 10 months

Text

Out in the desert, no one can find you... (Hex Tiles 1)

A sharp wind whistles through the desert dunes, bringing no reprieve to the travelers following the thin paths left out in the sand. Don't drink from the river — the plants that grow along its shores contain toxins that could leave a grown man coughing up blood, and chemical spills float through the current. A faraway road carries the rare drone-tank, long abandoned from any sort of human use.

My newest hobby, to distract myself on months when the purse is a bit too tight to be buying plastic crack from Games Workshop, is to build modular hex tiles! It's super easy — I pick up a hundred of these wooden MDF tiles from Amazon for $10 (they're advertised as 2", but they're 1.75" from tip to tip, and each side is 1"), grab any spare craft supplies I have lying around, and get to work! They're super quick (this first batch of one hundred took me around a week) and they open the door to a lot of cool experimentation. A lot of this is inspired by the work of u/Marcus_Machiavelli over on Reddit, who makes these fantastic modular hive city components that I hope to someday be able to emulate.

I'm making these for two purposes, neither of which I've put in practice yet but I'm hoping to get to do at some point. They're for:

Any mass-battle games played at 6mm. This could also work for Adeptus Titanicus or the upcoming Epic reboot that Games Workshop is working on.

Tactical TTRPGs like Lancer that are played with large beings, who can operate on a 6mm scale.

Once I get some games in with them, I'm sure I'll encounter future problems and reassess how I approach them. But for now, this is what I've got!

I Hate Sand

The first set of tiles I made, to serve as the backdrop for the rest of them, are these sand tiles. I chose to make this a desert (and thus make a bunch of sand tiles) because I already had some sand lying around, and because it's really cheap and easy to work with. Be careful though! Anakin was right; sand sucks. Try and pick up a finer grain than what I went with, apply the sand in a more-controlled location than I did, and secure it better than I did too. But here's how I did them:

Coat the surface of the hex with a mix of PVA glue and water.

Sprinkle on a light dusting of gravel or small rocks.

Apply a thick coat of sand on top of the gravel.

Knock off excess sand and recycle it for next time.

Spray with 1-2 layers of varnish. (I would recommend a sealant instead, but I didn't have any at the time)

For the ones with little paths on them, I painted the path on with White before applying the gravel or sand, and it shows through well enough! The paths are unnecessary — they're a fun experiment, but I don't think I'll be making more of them in the future.

The Gurgling Creek

Making the river tiles was a bit more involved, but still pretty easy. The method I came up with I think looks a lot better than just painting on water, and is a lot easier to work with than resin or water effects.

Use some kind of texture gel to build up the riverbanks, trying to have them end around 1/4" on the sides of the tiles where you want your river to connect.

Paint a strip Black where you want the river to flow, running from one edge to another.

Apply sand as before, everywhere except where you painted the black. (If you're worried about fucking this up, you can swap the order)

Varnish (or use sealant) as before.

Take some gloss mod podge and mix it with a light blue paint, and apply in large goopy quantities everywhere you want water to be. Leave overnight to dry. (If you want the river to be less cloudy, apply many thin coats of mod podge instead, letting each layer dry before applying the next)

As an extra, stipple green along the edges of the water and use a dark green wash to create patches of vegetation.

The river pieces are my favorites, and I'm the most proud of them. The tiny bridge was a thin strip of balsa wood, painted white and then washed black. It turned out fine.

I did a solid mix of straight river pieces and curving river pieces. If I was going to do it again I'd make more curving pieces than straight river pieces, because the curving ones make more sense for how rivers work.

The Road To Nowhere

These road tiles turned out really well, perfect for a run-down highway in the middle of nowhere. Here's how I made them:

Take a piece of corkboard and cut it down to be 1.75" long and 1" wide.

Glue it on a hex with the two edges of the corkboard touching two sides of the hex.

Go at the edges with a knife, making it all worn down and busted up.

In some of these spots, I fucked up and glued the corkboard on wrong. To fix that, break off a chunk and reposition it so it'll connect correctly. This will look like a big fat crack in the middle of the road, which is perfect.

Coat in a layer of mod podge or PVA glue. Leave to dry.

Once dry, paint the cork entirely Gray.

Drybrush White onto the corkboard, focusing on the edges and exposed spots.

Paint two thin yellow lines along the middle of the road. (These are optional, but they do a lot to make the 6mm scale convincing)

Apply sand, as before, onto the ground and up the sides of the road, so it looks like the road is emerging from the sand. Maybe apply some sand in a couple spots in the cracks to make it look like the sand has gotten in there.

Varnish and/or sealant, as before.

Apply a Black wash to the road. (There's a lot of tricks here! If you want the yellow stripes to be more vibrant, you can only paint them on after the first black wash. You can also target spots of sand on the road to make it look like it's asphalt runoff, soaking black into the cracks.)

Apply a second Black wash to the road.

The bridge was a bit more complicated, and took some finicky positioning and a trip to Kung-Fu Tea.

Take a boba tea straw and cut it into 1" segments, then cut them in half, gluing them to the middle of the hex as culverts.

Take corkboard and glue it over the culverts, bending it so it meets the two edges you want the bridge to run along. If it breaks, that's okay — this is a crumbling, middle-of-nowhere bridge.

Use texture gel and spare corkboard to fill in the gaps.

Use texture gel to define the steep edges of the river. Apply a little bit in between the culverts.

Do all the road steps to the road part of the bridge, and all the river steps to the river part of the bridge.

I'm exceedingly proud of the bridge hex. It turned out perfectly, and feels very emblematic of what I want this project to be like.

Why You, Too, Should Make 6mm Terrain

6mm terrain is amazing to make. Mistakes look like part of the landscape or the brain smudges them over due to the small size, and small changes look like fascinating little details. It really opens the imaginative space and I absolutely adore working at this scale. Plus I'm developing a ton of experience with various materials I've never worked with before, so I get to enjoy the triumph of carving foam or corkboard. It rules! I might even try to make a 28mm bridge after the success I had making a 6mm one.

My future plans for this project include cliffs, craters, 3D-printed shantytowns, and overpasses. But all that is for a later date — for now I'm gonna rest on my laurels, and spend the rest of the evening reconfiguring various tile combinations and cackling like a mad scientist.

#6mm #epic 40k #terrain #warhammer 40k #terrain building

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cohldhands · 1 year

Text

𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 | 𝘬𝘪𝘣𝘢 𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘻𝘶𝘬𝘢

pairing: bff!kiba x afab!reader word count: 7.9k warnings: nsfw! 18+! minors DNI! | just two best friends helpin' each other out, virgin!reader wants experience and kiba has it, pussydrunk!kiba, praise kink, oral (f! and m!recieving), primal play (kinda? like a sprinkle?), unprotected sex (wrap it up guys), he's down for you and its bad, other characters mentioned, all characters in their early/mid 20s, not thoroughly proofread, no use of y/n author's note: this is 100% based on some thirsting that @tired-biscuit and i did for this man and... well, here we are. i listened to "nayhoo" by chon while writing the first bit of this. i also didn't anticipate it to be this long... 😅 it's my first time in a long ass time writing second-person as well, so just be gentle. there will absolutely be (at least) a part two where shit devolves at ino's new apt. i hope yall enjoy!

you can also read this on AO3 here.

KIBA’s fingers twitch as he watches you place a piece of strawberry into your mouth, your lips encasing your delicate fingertips in a way he knows should be innocent, should be just friends having lunch together, but it’s not. It hasn’t been for a long time.

Dappled sunlight filters in through the full, vibrant trees towering above you, and the incessant hum of cicadas fills the air, mixing with the cadence of rustling leaves in the summer breeze. Loose, thin clothes, skin glazed in a thin layer of humidity and sweat, clammy hands from thrumming heartbeats.

Summer has always been a favorite time for the both of you, ever since the summer you moved to Konoha during your childhood. The summer that changed everything. Sticky sweetness, endless days, sunburnt cheeks. Ever since, you and Kiba have been attached at the hip, having lived in the house just down the street and your mothers working together. Hours of fetch with Akamaru, rock skipping competitions with Shino as referee, hushed conversations with Hinata about Naruto. He accepted you with open arms; they all did.

“Just another one of the pack.”

Kiba hated when you and Hinata would sneak off, however. He’d bribe Shino—or attempt to—just to spy and listen. When Shino would call him out on his reddened ears, his anticipation in finding out the girl talk, his picking at his nails until you would return, he’d tug his hoodie up and change the subject.

“You like her.” Shino would tell him, plainly, a fact of life.

“No!” the brunette would huff. “She’s just a friend.”

Kiba takes a swig from his canteen, a drip of water fumbling from his lip to his chin when he pulls it away. He blinks away the memories of summers, of lifetimes spent under the same blazing sun. Sunburnt chests, laying on Akamaru with bare arms pressed to each other while looking for aliens, small, small clothes.

“That’s what friends are for, Kiba!” You say through the small bite.

“It’s going to be so hot though,” he whines, throwing his head back with his forehead scrunched in irritation. “Who the fuck moves in the middle of July? You know who? Crazy people, that’s who.”

“Whether you like it or not, Ino is moving,” you shake your head at him, a hint of playful irritation on your drawl as you watch his head tilt back, the expanse of his neck exposed. A dare, a first kiss, a summer night. “And we both agreed to help her. Besides, it’ll go by quick with all of us helping. You’ll be okay. ”

“So annoying.” He croaks, but then he lets his head fall forward. His intense, dark eyes settle on yours once more, and he fights the urge to drink you in the way he does when you’re not looking. When you’re fidgeting while you’re trying to beat him at Mario Kart, when your face is scrunched in concentration when you’re aiming a kunai.

He sends a sideways glance at Akamaru—a lifeline, a phone-a-friend— and the white-haired dog lets out the equivalent of a mumble and a shrug.

Kiba throws his hands in the air, exhaling a “Fine! Fine.”

“You’re such a baby.” You laugh, a teasing yet light sound.

A sound that causes a flutter to rampage through his chest, and a restrained tug of a smile spreads across his features in response. But he’s practiced this, practiced suppressing the itch in his hands to reach out, to kiss you, to breathe in that laugh as if it was the air itself he needs.

He already does that with your scent alone.

“Whatever.” He grabs a clump of rice in his chopsticks and eats it.

You can tell there’s a hint of something underneath the surface with Kiba, something that’s hard to pinpoint. Of course, during your girl talks with Hinata, you’d open your heart to her. About how Kiba didn’t scare you, despite his animalistic side, how he just wanted attention, that’s why he acts that way, about how much you had to refrain from squirming when he looked at you as you both got older.

She’d gasp when you would talk that way, but she’d always add her own tidbit of girlish tension in a hushed voice.

“So, uh… w-while we’re talking about favors…” you start, your eyes falling to the bento box in your lap.

“If you’re moving, too, the whole ride-or-die thing goes out of the window.”

“No, fuck no!” Another light laugh, another shake of your head, but this time more at yourself than anything. If only it was just moving...

You’ve been mulling on asking him about this for weeks now. You’d recently met a boy, because you, too, have practiced the art of burying the want to grab him, to feel the ripple of muscles that dance underneath the fishnet material of his shirt, to tangle your fingers in his hair and find out if he likes his hair tugged the way you do, if he doesn’t, moving yourself against him until his desires tumble out of him on their own.

But you’ve met a boy, Jun, who is sweet. Kind. A responsible, gentle Ninja. You’re in no way committed, no title. Your mother adores him, your father respects him. He’s yet to make you uncomfortable, opens doors for you, brings you flowers every time he sees you. You’ve gone on a few dates with him, and you like him—enough to want more than the heavy petting and stale kisses. But then there is a small part of you, small yet persistent enough—

“The way a man feels about you is crystal clear when you bed ‘im,” Ino had told you once during a ‘girl’s night’ at Sakura’s.

“What do you mean?”

“If he truly wants you,” the blonde continued, jabbing her finger in your direction. “He can’t fake that while buried inside.”

“I’m convinced love has its own chakra,” Sakura had added. “It moves between you and the other person. Like a bolt of lightning.”

“Or a burning fire.”

The small part of you that craves to see if he’d do it, and if you’d be able to tell which natural disaster would rage between you—if one at all.

“What’s with the serious-ass face? You’re scaring me…” Kiba continues, his voice pulling you back to the here and now. He leans forward to catch your eyes again, then continues in a whisper. “Do we need to hide a body?”

“Kiba—”

“Oh, wait, it is serious.” He clears his throat and sits up, a different demeanor taking him over. His gaze fixates on you, his position stiffening as he studies you in a fraction of a moment. “‘Kay, sorry. What’s up?”

“It’s about Jun.”

His muscles tighten, and he places his bento box on the blanket you’re both sitting on. The guy who takes you on dates, the guy he can tell you’re not head over heel for. Jun, who fills the time, because Kiba can tell sweet Jun bores you. At least, that’s what Kiba tells himself. “Okay.”

“Uh… I don’t really know how to ask this, so I’m just going to.” You shift in your seat, mustering the gumption to speak clearly, forward, just ask your best friend for a favor. A dare, the childhood magic in special first kisses, adult magic in special first times. Not wanting to look like a dunce to the boy your mother adores, your father respects.

“I want to sleep with Jun, but I’ve never… ya know. And you have, so—”

Ba-dum. A heavy heartbeat, thick in his ears, piercing his palms.

His eyes widen, dark and yet darker, darker still. Heat floods his cheeks, bubbling under his skin and filling his abdomen. The swelling of a storm.

Ba-dum.

“I know it’s weird, a-and you can absolutely say no. You’re my best friend, though, and it’s not like I can just ask anyone. This isn’t like a new development either, I wanted to wait to ask you—n-not that I’ve just been, ya know, thinking about this and you. I just have zero experience, you know that, but I want to be a bit more confident in—”

Ba-dum.

“Do you like him?” Kiba’s voice falls flat, more flat than he anticipates, but the words hang there. Screaming cicadas, colliding tree branches. “Really, truly like him?”

Ba-dum.

“Yeah.” You nod. You’re convincing yourself and lying to him all at the same time. But maybe, just maybe trusting Kiba with this moment, with your first time, with breaking the barrier between fantasy and reality—maybe it won’t be so bad. “I do.”

“Then I’ll do it.” He swallows the solid lump in his throat, convincing himself and lying to you all at the same time. “Besides, that’s what friends are for.”

—

Kiba told you he’d come over later that evening, to do whatever it is that made you most comfortable. Shower, don’t shower. Shave, don’t shave. Wear whatever it is you wanted, to pretend like he was just coming over like he always did, to hang out like you always did.

You couldn’t sit still the moment you got home. You cleaned and showered. Tried to read, tried to scroll through your phone, tried to do any- and everything you could to not get caught up in the motions of it all, fought yourself for ten minutes on if you should even light a candle or not because it’s not like that but damn it—

Yes it is.

But this wouldn’t mean anything, right? Regardless of a candle lit, which made the whole space smell of honeysuckle and lemon, it’s just your best friend, doing you a favor: teaching you how to work a cock by using his.

Oh, god, his cock. What would it look like? Feel like? Would it curve, or would it be veiny? The thought alone causes you to fidget in your seat on the couch, your eyes darting between the clock on your phone and the front door to your apartment. You feel your heartbeat in your ears and in your core, pulsing. Arousal pools in your underwear at the mere thought of him—how did you expect to function?—and you pinch your thighs together.

You still couldn’t believe he had agreed. And Kiba couldn’t either, even as he meandered his way to your door, his eyes steadfast in the direction of your apartment building. What made either of you think this was a good idea? Was his practice paying off? Did he want it to? He had finally, finally been offered the invitation, the “come over” call that he dreamed of. He had hoped, however, that the circumstances would be different, that it would be for him.

Two heavy knocks on the door alert you to his presence, though somehow you’re sure you catch the scent of his body wash before his knuckles meet the wood. You pull the door open. Musk, earth, hazelnut, bergamot. Messy kitchens, ugly, delicious cookies, using his shower and wearing his clothes.

He’s bathed as well, his hair still slightly damp as it hangs above his shoulders. A wide grin flashes over his face, his eyes disappearing into the image, his teeth catching the overhead light. Your face fills with a weighty heat, and your abdomen flutters at the sight of his broad shoulders and his toned arms under the fabric of his shirt.

He’s opted for his usual lounge attire: a t-shirt, joggers, and sneakers. In his hands are takeout—he’s always eating—and drinks for you to share. You felt underdressed somehow in your own home, donning a thin-fabriced, comfortable yet cute t-shirt and shorts combination—something you’d worn around him countless times. Yet, he’d shown up like this countless times, food and a smile in tow, and he somehow seems more prepared than you’d ever seen him. The way he’s standing tall, his chest open to you… had he prepared?

Despite the vanilla-scented body-wash and the floral candle, the moment the door opens, revealing you in your post-shower, pre-coitus flush, he takes in the intoxicating scent of your arousal, of your skin, of you, and he presses his intent further into his smile. Not here, not now, not just past the threshold.

“Brought food. I doubt you ate.”

This motherfu—

“Thanks. I… actually haven’t eaten, now that I think about it.”

The tension is palpable. He’s trying a little too hard not to look at you, to not brush by you and linger. Though, he doesn’t understand why. You’d asked him to come over and help you, to quell the curiosity of experience, to be good for Jun.

The swelling of a violent storm.

You step aside and allow him in, and he does what he always does: makes himself at home, rummages through your cabinets for plates, a fork, two cups. You watch his hands maneuver whatever he’s holding, the muscles in his forearms. He keeps his nose buried in the food, trying to find something, anything to focus on other than you, in all of your totality.

Kiba jokes with you, carries on conversation while he divides out the food, move to the couch, sit just far enough to not touch, yet close enough to still feel each other’s body warmth. He’s talking and talking, rambling about the day you had already heard about, about a new bug Shino had shown him, about the hot springs he wants to go to in the town over. Maybe, just maybe, he’s nervous, too.

He jokes with you, as if he’s not already imagining your velvety throat wrapped around his aching girth, your face contorted in pleasure as he laps his tongue over your sensitive clit, his name tumbling out of your mouth, hitched and squeaked: “Kiba, Kiba—!”

“Ki-ba~!” You wave a hand over his glazed-over eyes as you call his name, sing-song and light, an attempt to bring him back from wherever he disappeared to as he’s stuck, freeze-frame, a cup halfway lifted to his mouth. You lean against the back of the couch toward him, only slightly, with an eyebrow cocked and a grin peeling back the corners of our mouth. “Where did you go, bud?”

There’s a split second, less than a blink of an eye where his hand is holding his drink; the next, it’s wrapped around your wrist, the cup on the table. How did he…?

His grip is tight, steadying, but then it eases by a fraction, and he finds himself studying the palm of your hand, imagining it wrapped around his throbbing, swollen girth, before his eyes flick up to yours, his jaw clenched, tight, teeth grinding as the wheels he’d frozen over long ago begin to turn, churning, yearning—

“Why did you ask me to do this?” His voice is low, hoarse, carried by a held breath, a tight chest.

There’s an underlying shift happening, and you can feel it in the soles of your feet, the palms of your hands. He somehow seems larger, taller, more devious. A full moon, an autumn night, finding out the ride the full moon sent him on before he disappears, unable to show you the animal that wanted to come out and ravage you, the side of Kiba he saves for the girls he will never see again because he can’t ruin you, you’re his best friend, his confidant.

Ba-dum.

He’s close, so close to you that you can see the pulse of his heartbeat in his neck. So close that the burning heat radiating off of him causes your own skin to surge, your heart to lurch, the damned fluttering in your abdomen. His eyes are zeroed in on you, black irises inflamed with dilated pupils. Hungry, restrained. Electricity ignites within your veins under his touch. He’s touched you, many times. A hug, a helping hand, a comforting shoulder. Why does this feel different?

“Because I trust you.”

Ba-dum.

His heart swells, clawing at his ribcage, screaming to be set free. You trust him. With your secrets, with your life, with your body. His gaze flicks on your lips, only for a moment, before his devilish eyes find yours once more.

Ba-dum.

“Have you ever even touched a cock before?” He murmurs, his tone taking on something silken and starved. He pivots his body to turn, his eyebrow cocked, a whisper of a coy smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, and he closes the space between you, the space that’s always between you.

You blink as a prickling heat travels up your spine, his question as well as his shift in energy catching you off-guard. Kiba’s never spoken to you, let alone around you this way, even when joking. Though he told you whenever he brought a girl home, or made out with another, you’re sure the gruesome details of his sexual escapades were dumped on Shino, or maybe even Naruto, if anyone. But you’re familiar with the wild look in Kiba’s eyes, the way he’s looking at you: a predator searching for his prey. The other side of Kiba.

“You’d know if I—” You start, but your words catch in your throat as you attempt to let them spill all over your kitchen counter. Even if it had happened, would you tell him? Would it have been in confidence, to share a story time, or would it have been to get even a chance to see a flicker of jealousy, of rage, of something? “No, I haven’t. N-not, ya know… skin to skin, anyway.”

The sting of embarrassment bubbles in our throat, your voice smaller than you wanted it, and whispers nothing good into your ears, but you maintain your eye contact. You made the first pitch, and now it’s game time.

“And you’re sure you want me to be the first?” He asks before he brings your palm to lips and presses a wet yet tender kiss to it. The notion surprises him, that he allowed himself more than anything, but he knows what it’s doing to you—he can smell it. “I do also have your first kiss, so I’d be two-for-two, bud.”

The feeling of his mouth on you sends coursing fire to your cunt, and you can almost, almost feel his lips against your now-soaked folds. And he’s patronizing you, a playful lilt clinging to the nickname, but you don’t hate it. It’s Kiba, in totality. Him making sure, despite his coy grin and thirsty eyes, only makes you want him more.

“I don’t know if that really counts…” You mutter. It does count, and it’s always counted, but he doesn’t need to know that. A stupid game of truth or dare one adolescent summer, the summer you knew you’d never rid your thoughts of Kiba. A summer initiating the biggest game of make-believe.

“How rude.” He smiles against your hand, and his hot breath and pointed canines brush against your palm. He shrugs, his grip falling from your arm, and then he exhales a dramatic sigh. “I guess I’ll have to make up for it, then. Can’t have meaningless kisses out there.”

Ba-dum.

Lighting cracks inside of you as his large hands splay across your hips and pull you into his lap. Your hands scramble, only for a moment, before one lands on the back of the couch, and the other finds purchase on his shoulder.

The battle within him is raging, a savage and destructive thing. He wants to take you, now, now, but he can’t, he won’t. You’re not the girls he’s given meaningless kisses to. You’re his best friend, and he’s waited this long.

He can wait just a little bit longer.

Ba-dum.

Draping your thighs around his hips, he looks up at you with earnest eyes, a moment of hesitation between you two as he waits for a no, a wait, a maybe we shouldn’t. The pulsing heat of his cock strains against his joggers, pressed firmly against your core as he holds you against him. Though muffled by the thick denim, you feel the aching throb beneath you, the pulsing twitch, the size.

Ba-dum.

When the blockade doesn’t come, and you meet his gaze with an equally intrigued look, his grip on your shirt tightens. He cranes his neck up, and he whispers against your lips, “I have a rule.”

Your heart stutters at the husk in his voice, the low demand for attention. “Okay…”

“If you have questions, ask. And—eh, I guess two rules.” Kiba murmurs against your lips, his face flushed in the dim lighting. “If you want something, tell me.”

Your ears burn, the flush causing your skin to prickle. Your hair hangs at the side of your face, closing you and Kiba into a world of your own, the world you both have always played in. Just the two of you.

“Okay.” You nod, your body ignited in a burning flame. “I will.”

Kiba’s lips collide with yours, rough and excited, then soften, pull back, relax, as his hands tangle the fabric of your shirt in their grasp, and his hips tilt up into yours. A slight movement, one he barely notices himself, but the weight of you on him alone sends a shiver through his body. Another subconscious jerk of his pelvis, reacting to the warmth, the weight, you you you.

The air in your lungs vanishes as his lips bring a reprieve, a cold drink on a hot summer day, lifting the lid before it all boils over, and your grip on his shoulder tightens. Head spinning, a drunken buzz just from his kiss. There’s a small moment that wonders if this is actually a fantasy, something you’ve conjured up in your head, a fever dream.

Your own hips move as you run your tongue along his bottom lip, adding intent as you roll against him, slow, methodical, feeling his entirety through the mere layers of fabric separating the two of you. Always something in the way.

A heavy breath against your lips, he opens his mouth and allows the dance to commence, a slow dance that soon turns into a tango, fervent, impassioned, both of your bodies submitting to what they’ve desired. He tastes of takeout and impulse decisions, sunburnt cheeks, swollen lips, a stupid crush that isn’t a crush but a fact of life. Your hold on the couch releases, and your fingers tangle in his head of dark, thick hair. A grounding grip, a slight tautness against the nape of his neck.

“Fuck…” He huffs before he nips at your bottom lip, his fingers dip underneath your shirt, grazing the flesh of your hips. He takes handfuls of your hips and brings you down against him further, closer, closing more of the space, more of that damned thing always in the fucking way. His lips trail from yours to your neck, the space below your ear, and he runs a flattened tongue along your skin, tasting it, breathing you in before sloppy kisses decorate your neck.

Your eyes fall hooded, and a light pant tumbles out of you at the contact. He sucks at a particular spot, bringing blood to the surface, his canines barred against your flesh.

“Kiba!” You gasp, the hint of a nervousness in your tone, and you detach yourself, only slightly, slightly. “You can’t leave any marks.”

“Sorry, sorry!” He chuckles, and then it hits him, crashes into him that you’re there, he’s here, and he’s supposed to be teaching you and yet, yet, he’s caught in the tidal wave of learning you. His cheeks and ears tinge with a beet red glaze, and he swallows thickly as he stares up at you. “I’ll try to remember.”

“But I want you to.” is what you want to say, but you don’t.

“It’s okay,” you reassure with another light laugh. “I’ll be sure to remind you.”

“I’m happy you did. Don’t ever feel like you can’t speak up with someone, especially if you’re, ya know… If a guy doesn’t listen to you, he—wait, what are you—”

He had started to ramble, stumbling in the moment of stillness. You, however, found the moment to be just when the courage hit to reach a delicate hand down and trace the edge of his joggers.

“I want to see it.” Your eyes flick to his lap, to the strained outline of his still throbbing, stiff cock before finding his gaze again.

Stunned, he stares up at you with wide eyes. Your words echo in his head, over and over, his ears ringing at the sound of your inquiry. When the blockade, the no, the maybe we shouldn't, doesn't come, you peel yourself away from him and lower yourself between his spread knees.

The swelling storm brews inside of him, the savage and violent force of nature. Wait, wait, relax.

“Thank you for telling me.” His eyes don’t leave you as you swallow another weighty lump in your throat, and you pull at the combined bands of his joggers and underwear. He lifts himself up, just enough to help slide the two layers of fabric off of him, watching your reaction.

When his erect member springs up at the sudden relief and twitches, your eyes widen. It’s nothing like the ones you had seen on a screen, but it's like the ones people write about. Thick is an understatement, and two prominent veins run along his length. A pink head, the color of his lips, donned with a dribble of clear slick and wrapped in taut skin. The image of his aching cock sends heat pooling at your core, and you shift in your spot—though it only makes things worse, and your heartbeat thrums in your clit.

He sucks in a breath at your innocent gape, the sight causing his mind to go to dark places where you’re screaming his name, head buried against the mattress, it’s too deep, I’m gonna break, his hand tangled in your mess of hair.

You glance up at him in his flustered state, before you turn your eyes downward and wrap a unsure but willing hand around the base. His hips jerk into your touch, and one of his hands finds purchase on the couch cushion, his knuckles whitening as he keeps himself grounded by his grip. His mind is reeling, a flipbook of the thousand positions he’d kill to see you in, put you in.

“Shit…” He spits through clenched teeth.

“Did I—” You freeze.

“N-no, you’re fine, you can—” He starts, but your slow, fisted movement up and then down his shaft cuts him off. “Yeah, like that…”

“That’s okay?” You ask as you slowly pump your hand around him, your eyes flicking between his length in your hand and his eyes on you.

“Y-Yeah.” Kiba nods, saliva pooling in his mouth as he watches you, dinner and dessert in front of him on a silver platter. He clears his throat, the anticipation making him fidgety. The longer he had to wait, the more the pulsing desperation in his length called to him, begging him for release.

He has to wait a little bit longer.

You nod, and then you sit up on your knees and tighten your grip, just slightly, and increase your pace. His eyebrows pull together as he continues to observe, a face of pleasure, and you feel another wave of heat rush under your skin. Your hand reaches the tip, and the precum allows the smallest bit of lubrication as you twist your hand, up and down.

“You’re doing a good job,” he groans, his voice deeper than before, hoarse, restrained. Hearing him like this, praising you, you’re sure you’ll go insane by the end of the night—if you weren’t already. “You can use your mouth, too.”

“I know!” You quip, embarrassment tingling your cheeks. “I was getting there. Though I don’t know if it’ll fit…” The last bit is more for yourself than anything, said under your breath, but he hears you, and he can’t help but imagine you choking on his fat cock, tears streaming down your face.

Ba-dum.

You lean forward, your eyes crossing as you near your target, and your hand settles at the base. You can do this, you tell yourself, before an unsure yet more than willing tongue licks at his cockhead. He tastes of salt and velvet, and your waiting eyes flick up at him.

“Like that,” he purrs, his deep eyes, dark and yet darkening, narrowed on you by the time you’re looking at him. So intent on watching you, committing the scene to memory.

The encouragement leads you to flatten your tongue and run it along the length of one of the veins. His girth twitches in reaction, accompanied by a breathy curse and a jerk upwards of his hips, though this time intentional.

“Around the tip,” he instructs, his voice trapped somewhere between a groan and a whine. It’s the best he can do to keep himself from fucking into your throat.

You do as he says, swirling your hot tongue around the pink head, collecting his slick in your mouth and finding yourself relishing in the taste.

“Good girl. You’re doing so good.” He pants as his hand, purposefully slow, pushes your hair out of your face and collects it into a loose bunch at the back of your head. His head feels light, like if he doesn’t hold onto you someway, somehow, he’s going to float away.

The two syllables bring your thighs together, a thrum of pressure building in your cunt. You’re soaked already, you can feel it gathering in your underwear, but something about his tone, his dilated eyes downcast, his heedless praise that urges you further, to slowly and messily run glaze his skin with your tongue, circling, up, down. You wanted to hear it more, hear his sounds of pleasure, hear his words of adoration. For him to touch you, everywhere.

And he knows. He senses the shift in your energy, the way you tense up when he encourages you, and he smells it, the collection of wetness just one, two layers away. His grip on your hair tightens, tension gathered at the nape of your neck.

You swirl your tongue once, twice, three times around the tip before you wrap your pretty lips around his cock, sucking at it.

A popsicle, a strawberry at lunchtime, brewing electricity.

“Oh, fuck—” Kiba growls, and his hips buck into the warmth of your mouth as you bob your head, taking small, increasing portions of him each time, little moans vibrating his skin. “Shit, yes, like that. So fucking good.”

A slippery tongue, fingers tangling in hair, flashing lightning.

“Such a good girl. Move your hand while you—yes.” He pants as he watches his cock disappear into your throat, your hand pumping whatever you don’t take in your mouth.

Two gazes met.

Ba-dum.

The crackling roll of thunder.

Within a moment, he scoops you up with a huff of impatience—so fucking fast, how does he do that—and you let out a yelp of surprise.

“Kiba!” You squirm as you’re placed over his shoulder and carried into your bedroom.

He doesn’t answer you verbally; instead, he shrugs you onto the bed, and you land on your back. His erect member is still out, fully exposed, but he doesn't pay any mind to it as he takes fistfuls of your shorts and tugs them off, unwrapping you, a little present, just for him.

“Kiba, what are you—” You start, but your words tangle in your throat when he rids you of your underwear, letting them fall to the floor. Unwrapped, a present, just for him.

“Oh!” You exclaim when he hooks his arms under your thighs and tugs you to the edge of the bed.

He falls to his knees, his intense eyes falling to your glistening folds. You smell even sweeter this way, and his head buzzes, dizzied, intoxicated as he drinks you in. His composure is slipping, and he wastes no time lapping his tongue along your slit, from entrance to clit.

“Oh…!” You purr, and then you muffle yourself with your hand as schlurp sound comes from him kissing your cunt, sloppy and hasty. His tongue is rough against your sensitive skin, and when it catches your swollen bud, your hips jerk under him, moaning against your palm.

“No,” he huffs against you in that hoarse, demanding voice. He laps his tongue along your entirety, and then he suckles at your throbbing clit, his eyes watching, always watching. “I wanna hear you.”

“But what if—ahh, fuck—!” You tremble under his touch, your voice hushed, and you grip the blanket. You, too, feel the weightlessness, the risk of drifting away if you don’t. Your face contorts into bliss as your back arches, pushing yourself against his mouth. It’s like you’re vibrating, hanging in a space between fantasy and reality. This isn’t real, it can’t be, his mouth can’t feel that good, not Kiba’s mouth, not—

His nails press into your skin as he holds on to you, pulling you closer, closer to him as he eats you, his fervent and messy movements building a tension in your abdomen more intense than anything you’ve accomplished by yourself. His tongue teases your entrance, your nectar driving him further. He delves it into you, holding you against him as he fucks his appendage into your sopping cunt.

“Kiba—” You moan into the air, your other hand finally finding purchase on his arm, clinging to him.

His name tumbles from your lips, and for a moment, he swears the world goes silent, a deafening ringing filling his ears as you call out. He feels you tightening around him, a bewildered aura taking him over. He’s now desperate for your release, to feel you squirm and writhe underneath him, to keep calling his name. He trails his tongue back to your clit, flicking, circling as a slender finger finds your entrance. It slips inside, your arousal coating his skin, and it pumps in and out of you, restrained, slow.

“Oh, god,” you exhale, your eyes widening as he adds another finger, his digits curling inside of you. “Oh, that feels so good, fuck.”

“Mmmhh.” He watches you arch off the bed, his nose pressed to your mound, his tongue making quick and heavy work of your pulsing clit, stretching you as he adds another finger, slow, waiting for the blockade, the maybe we shouldn’t.

His pulsing length twitches, a violent motion that calls his attention, but he forces it out of his mind. This is about you, about stretching you and pushing you over the edge, your sweet release. The tightness of your walls tells him it's soon, your body tense.

Instead, his pumping of his slender digits is met with another cry of his name. Three fingers stuffed, his fingertips massaging the sweet spot inside of you. The burn of the stretch pulls your eyebrows together, and yet you roll your hips against him, wanting the friction, craving the release, another explosion of deafening thunder, the swelling thunderstorm that is Kiba.

“Ki-Kiba, I’m gonna—” You can’t even finish your sentence. It hits you, almost out of nowhere. You’re unraveling, your legs shaking, your skin on fire and the swelling storm raging, ravaging your entire body as it caves in. Your juices pour out of you, trickling down his chin, and he drinks you up with another loud schlurp.

“Fuck.” He groans against you, and his lips envelop your clit as he pumps his fingers into back you, his tongue resuming its assault. His fingers move in you with a faster pace, a hardened pressure against the spongy flesh inside of you. “I need you to cum again. To be ready for my cock.”

“Oh, shit!” You sob. “Right there, right there, right there—”

You’re so sensitive, so intoxicated by the way he handles you, the way he looks at you, the way even he smells, tastes, feels.

“That’s it.” He eggs you on, the itch to palm himself, to rut into you, to lose it just out of reach.

You claw at his arm, at the sheets, at anything you can. You’re going to explode, his slippery tongue and fervent fingers bringing you again, closer to ecstasy.

“Cum for me,” he demands, and as if you’d been born to listen, you do on his gruff command, crying out curses as a mind-stopping orgasm bursts through you. You see stars, the entire night sky on your bedroom ceiling.

“Good girl.” He swipes his tongue along your clit before he removes his fingers from you, slow, gentle, and he sucks his fingers clean of your slick, his girth throbbing harder, harder at your taste. Honey glaze, a spark of lightning, crashing branches in the wind.

He steps out of his joggers and tugs off his shirt, his shoes having been left at the door long ago, his blood coursing through his veins, liquid metal, at the sight of your shivering, half naked body beneath him. With another fast motion, he’s hovering over you, his arm wrapped around your waist to bring you back further onto the bed, your head hitting pillows this time. His hands graze from your thighs and up your shirt, his palms brushing the hardened peaks of your nipples before he lifts your shirt off of you. And then he stares down at you, starved yet adoring eyes. Skinny dipping, a lakeside fire, burnt marshmallows.

You meet his gaze as your chest heaves, coming down slowly from your high, studying the angle of his collarbone, the curve of his chest, the dim light highlighting the flesh that you never dared to touch, to learn—until now. You place your hands on his arms, feeling the ripple of muscle as you feel his shoulders, his chest.

A moment, suspended in time between the both of you. Your heavy breathing fills the otherwise quiet room and the low, rhythmic hum of cicadas just outside your window. Your heart is a drum inside of your chest, beating, beating, bursting as he looks down at you, and your heart skips as you feel his cockhead tease your entrance, rubbing against your slick folds and causing a hitched gasp to fall when it grazes over your sensitive clit.

“Are you ready for me?” Kiba inquires in a husky voice, gravely and controlled.

Ba-dum.

“Yes,” you whisper in return, your hands settling on his biceps as you keep your eyes on his.

“Okay,” he nods, swallowing the lump in his throat, and he presses himself into you, slow, achingly slow.

Ba-dum.

Another gasp wracks your chest, and your eyes widen again as you watch his face scrunch in concentration. And then he whines, a short and quiet sound that makes your ears ring. He wants to jerk into you, bottom out, and the self-restraint is slipping out of his grasp like grains of sand.

Ba-dum.

“Relax for me,” he urges you through clenched teeth as your walls remain tight around him.

“S-Sorry. Oh, fuck, Kiba. I-it’s huge.” You stammer as you glance down at his girth disappearing into you, stretching you past anything your fingers, even his, could offer. You feel every inch of him as he spreads you, opening his present, celebrating his own holiday.

“I know, I’m sorry. You’re taking me so well.” He pants, working hard not to split you in two.

Ba-dum.

The pinch of his stretching you is different, much different than his fingers. He pulls himself back before pushing into you again, your slick aiding in his movements. It’s nothing like how you imagined, the awful and bloodied thing that’s rumored to be losing your virginity, but as he loads himself fully into you, pushing past the subtle barrier within, your body tenses up again, and a tinge of pain replaces the pleasure.

“S-sorry, sorry.” He stumbles over his words. For years, he’s wondered what his girth would look like with you donning it, and now it’s here, right here. And it’s beautiful, heavenly. He doesn’t have the words to describe the way you look wrapped around him—the way you look in general, let alone eyebrows upturned, sweat collecting along your hairline, a heaving chest—but worth every fucking minute of waiting.

“Just—gimme a sec, okay?”

Ba-dum.

“Yeah, yes, sure.”

You take in deep breaths, wetness pooling at your entrance, and you ease the tension in your muscles, allowing yourself to acclimate. Relax, relax, but fuck you’re at capacity, at your wits end, wanting to unravel all over again—and he’s barely even moved.

“Okay… we’re good.”

“You sure?”

Ba-dum.

“Yes.” You answer, a strong syllable on your tongue. You’ve never been so sure in your life.

Ba-dum.

And he hears the certainty, feels it reverberate through his bones. He pulls himself back, then into you again, another restrained roll of his hips. You can tell he’s holding back with the way his face is pulled together, with the vein in his neck jutted out.

“Shit.” Kiba mutters, one hand finding purchase on your hip while the other supports him on the bed.

“Fuck, Kiba…” You sigh, your body slowly making room for him.

“My name sounds nice when you moan it,” he purrs, leaning down, his skin desperate for contact with yours.

“Don’t say things like that,” you whisper, a near-plea, your nails digging into his skin as your eyes fall half-hooded. And then he hits that spot, the spot, deep within you, and your back lifts off the bed, pressing your chest to his, another moaned swear falling out of you.

“Why?” He grins, a coy look that almost makes his depraved gaze seem sweet. “It’s true.”

“Idiot…” You respond, your voice hitched.

“Hm?” He cocks his head to the side, a wild look filling his features. He jerks his hips, once, hard, bucking into you before returning to his agonizingly slow pace. “Couldn’t hear you.”

“Fuck!” You cry out, dragging your nails along his skin. It hurts, his abrasiveness, but it hurts in a way you don’t hate, that you almost want again. “Fucking asshole.”

“Asshole?” He chuckles, a guttural sound that isn’t impressed. He ruts into you again, wanting to hear that squeaky little voice, that pitched moan that he’s creating. “Baby girl, that’s not you really mean, is it?”

“Goddamn it, fuck, Kiba!” Your voice carries through the room, sending a prickling heat up his spine at the sound. You’re full, so full, and his resolve is slipping, slipping, gone altogether when you sob out his name again.

“Look at you, taking all of me,” he praises, and he glances down at his work before a growled moan leaves his own lips. “Fuck, you’re doing so good.”

Pleasured tears burn your eyes, and you look up at him before reaching up, without thinking, and tangle your hands in his hair, pulling him fully against you. Another sound of pleasure vibrates his chest, muffled as he presses his lips to yours, another messy, impassioned, needy dance.

Another whine escapes him as the restraint fades away into nothing. Your hips open for him, your legs wrapping around his waist as his movements become heavier, more momentum behind them. He envelops you with his arms, one hooked on your shoulder and the other holding your hip. You’re so close, so close; there is no longer anything in the fucking way.

“The way a man feels about you is crystal clear when you bed ‘im.” Ino’s words weigh on your mind, and you wonder if friends are supposed to cling to each other like this.

Of course they don’t, but you don’t allow the thought to cross your mind. Not here, not now.

“Kiba, Kiba—” You pant against his lips between struggling breaths and fervent kisses.

“You’re fucking heaven,” he huffs in return. He moves again, peeling away from you only to push your legs to your chest before leaning down again.

“Fuck, it’s so fucking deep.”

“That’s it,” he coos, his balls slapping against you as he fucks into you, his mercy and patience wearing thin. “Take it all. Good girl.”

The earth-splitting strike of lightning, the house-shaking rumble of thunder.

You’re spinning, free-falling as his length is buried inside of you, his cockhead brushing against your cervix. It’s deep, too deep, not deep enough. Your nails rake across his shoulder blades. His lips find the curve of your neck, and he sucks at the skin, biting down, keeping you in place.

“Shit, shit—” The bubbling of heat collects in your abdomen, and you grip his hair once more, tight, a grounding grip.

He growls against your flesh as he brings the blood to the surface, but this time he doesn’t stop. He’s marking you, his, his, his.

“Kiba!” You call out, your voice echoing, laced with a warning and pure nirvana.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, licking the skin, before landing on another spot on the other side and repeating himself. “I can’t fucking help it. I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t mean it, and you can tell. The unfortunate part is: neither do you.

He mutters another half-apology as his thrusts become relentless, fucking into you as he did with the girls he gave meaningless kisses to. But you’re not them, you’re you, it’s not meaningless, it never will be.

You sob his name as you cling to him, the wet sounds accompanying the slap of skin. You’re floating away, gone, a fever dream within a fever dream, trembling legs hugging his waist.

“G-Gonna—”

“Fuck, yes, cum for me. Cum all over this fucking cock.”

And you do, hard. A violent, shattering burst of heat and your essence that sends you into orbit, lightheaded, tears of bliss rolling down your cheeks. Your walls clench around him, milking him for everything he has.

He thrusts into you, enough force behind them to rock the bed, to scoot you further into the pillows as his own climax swells. He bottoms out once, twice, each jerk making you cry out before he pulls away from you, a hasty and frantic movement, steadying his member in his hand as ropes of white hot cum land across your stomach in spurts.

You pant for air, chest heaving, your head still reeling by the time he’s wiped you clean of his essence, your body twitching as it works to come down from its nirvana. You hear him in the kitchen before he emerges at the bedside, a glass of water handed to you as he sits next to you.

“Here.” He says gently, his tone now opposite of what it was mere moments ago.

“Thanks.” You sigh, and you sit yourself up, slowly, before taking the glass. After a few sips, you hand it back to him, and he follows your lead, one, two gulps of ice-cold heaven in a glass. Water has never tasted so sweet before.

“You okay?” He asks, looking over your sprawled-out body, a whisper of a laugh in his voice.

“Yeah…” you nod, though you can already tell you’ll be sore, so fucking sore tomorrow. “Yeah, I’m okay. Are you?”

“Never better.” He grins, and then his eyes widen as he catches his practice, his art of suppressing his feelings for you also slipping from his grasp. He clears his throat and looks down at the drink in his hand. You can tell the wheels in his mind are turning, grinding, but you don’t ask.

You don’t have to. That’s what friends are for.

#my writing #kiba inuzuka #kiba inuzuka x reader #x reader fic #kiba smut #kiba inuzuka smut #kiba fanfic #goddamn why cant i write a DRABBLE #inuzuka kiba #inuzuka kiba x reader

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